1965-05-30 - 'Weight' Right There
Summary: Sam and Bucky hit the weight room and somehow not one another
Related: None
Theme Song: None
falcon bucky 

It's true, what the rumors say. The Winter Soldier's legit part of SHIELD now. So there's Buck himself, working on a heavy bag - one of the super-reinforced ones they created to stand up to Captain Rogers. Beating on it patiently, human hand wrapped, but the metal one bare, wearing only sweats and a tanktop.

Oh ask Sam how happy he was about that. Ask him. Mmhmmm. Smart money was on doubtful to non-plussed. Still it was what it was and for a moment the Master Sergeant just watched Bucky work the bag. In a t-shirt and sweats he finally walked in. "Barnes." Oh yeah. It was going to be a fun day.

Bucky puts out the metal hand to still the bag's swing, looking over warily. His hair's bound back in a low pony tail, and the pale eyes are gauging. "I've heard of you. You're the one who flies," he says, tone neutral.

Falcon just…stared. It wasn't a thing done to impressanything upon anyone but to let one, today Bucky, know that oh yes there was judging. The tone was neutral to a professional point taking in his observations, "Seems to be the case. You're the one that served with Steve." Statement, not a question really. "Settling in?"

He comes forward, offering a hand hastily unwrapped. "Yeah. I served with Captain Rogers during the war," he agrees, essaying a little smile. Maybe the old Barnes charm will ease the possible friction here.

Falcon nodded slowly and while the man didn't seem to warm up Sam's demeanor, he offered conversation. "PJ. Two tours. Hell of a fight you guys were in." The towel was pulled off his shouler and slung on the back of the weight rack as he selected the iron to encumber the bar today. Says your'e from New York?" Someone did research.

"Yep. Grew up with Steve in Brooklyn," Buck offers, easily. He's flushed and sweaty, but he hardly seems blown. Comfortable, even as he goes to get a towel of his own.

Falcon nodded slowly, "Harlem." Small steps, but civil steps. He stayed silent for a long time letting his ideals go to battle without him. Finally he asked, "You got a plan? An outplan? What you are going to do with yourself?" He waved a hand gesturing to teh work room speaking frank, but hodling back on any accusation, "Retire and become a florist?"

Bucky grins at that, unabashed. "Maybe, eventually. Right now, I work for SHIELD, part time. Tend bar the rest of the time. Gotta lotta stuff to deal with." He doesn't look particularly traumatized, or vicious. Not a big guy, not Steve. "Good work for now…"

Falcon considered that with a heaping side of 'we'll see'. Still the summary of his plan was something. Sam nodded a bit and set himself under the bar. "Maybe, eventually. Gonna be really busy around here. And it is good work. It's what we can't lose focus of." Words that could be carried a hundred different ways but had no inflection to them to nudge them off in a definitive direction. For now it was what it was.

The Soldier's content to sit down on a spare bench, willing to talk, rather than hare off for the showers. "Gonna be?" he asks, raising a dark brow. "No doubt it's good work, especially with Director Carter in charge…."

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