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Shuri's made a few changes to the last version she'd had him test, and has sent him back out with instructions to try smaller things with the new arm this time, as she is looking for fine nuance and haptic feedback results.

As a result, Bucky's decided to settle in the bar at the ends of the worlds for a bit with a good cup of coffee and see what he can figure out to test next.

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"Uh-huh," Zinda says again, looking unconvinced. She's wondering how exactly Steve Rogers fits into this whole thing, too – did he also think he'd been picked? Did he know he was competing against his best friend?

"Well, glad you ironed it all out in the end."

She's got to hope they'd at least managed that, surely?

She doesn't seem entirely convinced, and he spares a moment to hope that whenever she and Sharon run into each other again it'll all be sorted out, somehow.

"We did," he says, with as much certainty as he can put into the words.

She still thinks it sounds like Sharon had been playing both sides against each other, but that's something to take up with her, if they ever meet again, not him.

And anyway, what goes on between the two of them is for the two of them, not her. "Good," she tells him, though it lacks the deep approval she'd given before, and finishes her beer.

"So, this new arm of yours; how've you tested it so far?"

"This is the second round of testing," he tells her, accepting the subject change. Bucky takes another sip of the doctored coffee. "First was basic function, strength testing, things like that. This time I'm supposed to be trying smaller, more finicky things."

Something pert about learning how to knit or crochet rises to her lips, but she doesn't feel much like joking yet.

"How's it goin' so far?" she asks, instead, and sets her empty bottle back on the bar for it to be absorbed. "Seems like you're handlin' that cup just fine."

"I've only broken one so far today," he says, dryly. "But mostly it's going okay."

"Well, hey," she says, encouraging. "That's not so bad. Besides, I bet folks break stuff in here all the time by accident, even without metal hands."

"Around this place? Probably." Bucky finishes his coffee and lays his hand flat on the bartop.

"What was that Sunny told me about? A bowl of beads?" One shimmers into being, with an empty bowl beside it. Carefully, Bucky picks one bead up and drops it into the empty bowl, then gives her a wry look.

"Say, there you go."

She gives him a quick, warm smile. "Once you get good at picking 'em up, you can try sorting them out. That'd be a real good test."

"Wouldn't be the first time." His slight smile is somehow fond. "One of the Council elders has me sorting trade beads a lot."

She grins at him. "Maybe that can be your next stop after this."

He chuckles, and goes for another bead. "Maybe. Either that or chopping up firewood."

"Just don't break the ax or accidentally fling it," she advises, smiling.

"Sounds like you've got your day pretty well planned out."

"Good goals." He smiles back. "No, you're right - today's supposed to be pretty quiet, I think."

"Nothin' wrong with that."

She reaches into her jacket pocket and fishes out a couple of bills that she drops on the bar; they disappear just like her bottle did. "Speakin' of schedules, I oughta get back to the Skipper."

Zinda smiles at him, then gets up and hugs him gently around the neck. "Good to see you, sugar," she murmurs. "You ever need to chat, just drop me a note. I'll be there in a jiff."

He hugs her back without hesitation. "Good to see you too, Zinda," Bucky tells her. "Don't be a stranger, you hear? Next round's on me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Sarge," she says, clicking her heels and tossing him a crisp salute. "And, hey. What I said before? That gal of yours oughta make sure she's puttin' you first, too."

She winks at him. "See you later."

"Hey, wait a second--"

He's up like a shot, leaving the beads forgotten on the bar as he moves to catch her before she can reach the door.

"What do you mean by that?"

When it's clear he's coming after her, she pauses and waits. "Just what I said."

Probably she should have said it in the first place, but she'd thought... well, it hardly matters. "It's a two-way street, you know? You're a great guy. And if she wants to keep you around, I hope she lets you know you're her best guy. That's only fair, ain't it?"

"I mean, sure, that's fair, but why would you think--" Bucky breaks off there and shakes his head. "Listen, I don't want you to have the wrong idea. She's only ever been straight with me. She's always had my back. She gave up damn near everything to help me and Steve - home, ability to see her family, career, all of it."

Isn't that when she kissed your best friend? Zinda doesn't say.

"Look, I don't have all the information, and I'm in no position to judge," she says, despite having clearly made some kind of judgment call. "Just hearin' about all that – it was a hell of a time, clearly, for all y'all. And I can see she gave up a lot."

She sighs, a little. "Just... seems to me like it oughta have been an easy choice. Hell, seems to me there shouldn't have been a choice at all, but people's hearts do funny things. I just hope she's a hundred percent in, now."

Edited 2021-10-13 03:50 (UTC)

There's something soft and a little bit wry about the way his mouth quirks in a sideways smile. "She is. She has been. For months, now. She wasn't jerking me around, Zinda. Or Steve, either. She wouldn't do that."

Zinda sighs and shakes her head. "Okay," she says, opting to take what he says at face value.

She still thinks there's something off about the whole thing, but her expression softens as she looks at him. "Good. Because you deserve the best."

"Look who's talking." She's kind, and worried about him, and he hopes this's cleared everything up because he'd meant what he said a while back.

"Take care of yourself, sky lady. See you soon."

"You too," she tells him, and lifts a hand in a wave. "See you when I see you, Bucky Barnes."

She winks at him again, then turns and vanishes through the door with a flick of golden curls and the half-caught refrain of some old swingy song.

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