1965-08-27 - The Arrangement
Summary: Tony gives Bucky's arm a tune-up, and camping gets discussed.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
bucky tony 


Buck looks relaxed, contented. Not exactly tan, Asgard isn't the kind of climate where you lie around getting a tan. But healthy, with color in his cheeks that hasn't been there for a while. Apparently the puppersitting went well for Steve, and Buck's in a good state. The arm, with its cover, is doing beautifully as well. The surface has held up even to relatively athletic activities, it seems.


Buck looks relaxed, contented. Not exactly tan, Asgard isn't the kind of climate where you lie around getting a tan. But healthy, with color in his cheeks that hasn't been there for a while. Apparently the puppersitting went well for Steve, and Buck's in a good state. The arm, with its cover, is doing beautifully as well. The surface has held up even to relatively athletic activities, it seems.

So now he's sitting on the edge of the table, shirt off, letting Tony inspect the arm and its cover, smiling his little smile.


Tony, as usual, looks like he hasn't slept in a couple days. He's alert, though, caffeinated. He examines the outer casing, first. "This has held up great," he says. "Good job, kid." That for an absent Peter Parker. "The elasticity's good, the look of it's spot on." He looks up at Bucky's face. "How are you doing, performance-wise? Any issues?"


By the glitter in the blue eyes, he's tempted to a ribald reply. But he stifles it. "Doing great," he says, flexing the metal hand. "I mean, I didn't get into combat there, didn't do anything crazy. I've never had a real vacation before, and that's basically what it was," he says. No wonder he looks happy. To go to a place where no one gives a damn that he's the Winter Soldier…


Tony arches an eybrow, then laughs a little and shakes his head. "Not getting into combat's good. Probably for the best, not going to war with Asgard." He reaches for the top of the sleeve and says, "Let's take this off and see what your insides look like."

He peels the sleeve off slowly. After a little finagling, it slides right off. "So what is there to do in Asgard anyway? I can't really picture it."


"Drinking. Outdoor stuff. It's like….the Rockies, times a million. Really beautiful, both the wild parts and the landscaped. I mostly just walked around and gawked, or let Scarlett fly me around and gawked," he says, laughing a little - holding his arm out and letting Tony pull off the sleeve like a woman letting her lover remove an opera glove.


Tony treats the glove with great care. Setting it aside, he gets to business, popping open the plates to expose the inside of Bucky's mechanical arm. "Sounds pretty great," Tony says. "I haven't been to the Rockies in awhile. Might have to go skiing this winter."

He inspects the arm's insides. "That sleeve is keeping this remarkably clean," he says. "A little residue, but nothing we can't clean up." He sits up, reaching for a specialized brush he's made for this. "How were the revels? I hear those people love their revels."


There's a moment or two where Buck's got that weird, inward-turned look. Conferring with the ghost of Winter, that lurker in the abandoned mental architecture that hasn't been wholly pulled down. Then he's back in the present. "I've never been skiing for fun," he says, slowly. "I know how, though. A little." As if he weren't sure of it. Then he smiles up at Tony. "Pretty wild. I mean, they basically drink jet fuel. I had to drink the kiddy version to avoid dying of alcohol poisoning."


"My kind of place," Tony says. "So you walked around, or flew with your girl, reveled. Sounds like a decent vacation. I think I would've been kicked out for taking apart all their 'magic' stuff to see how it really works." His hand is steady as he stars brushing out the interior of the arm, cleaning away the scant dust and debris that has built up. It's a fraction compared to what he's found in previous times. The sleeve is doing a good job keeping the worst of it out.


"I bet you'd'a found someone to talk shop with," Buck speculates. Then he shivers. One of Tony's brushes has hit a 'nerve', it seems. Not painful, but strange - it makeshim chuckle, sheepishly. "When you take a vacation, where do you go?"


"I haven't taken a vacation in years," Tony admits. "I go different places for business, so I see a lot of cool places and do some interesting things, but I can't imagine going somewhere just to be there." He grins at the shiver and murmurs, "Good to know your reflexes are still working. We should check those every once in awhile."


"It kinna tickles," he admits, with a sheepish grin. Then he blinks at Tony. "You should. I get the feeling that you don't really know what to do with yourself when you're not working," he says, bluntly. "C'mon, there's nowhere you wanna see you haven't yet been?" he asks, a curious lilt to hisvoice.


Tony shakes his head slowly and says, "No, not really. I've been skiing in Aspen, there was an Expo. I've dined in Paris, Danced in Milan. I wouldn't mind touring NASA, but I'd want to play with all the toys, not just look at them." He lets his breath out, then admits, "I like to work. It's all I've ever done. It's synonymous with breathing."


Buck looks at him, brow furrowing. "You need to learn to have downtime. You and Steve both," he says, firmly. "Steve never knew how to cut loose. It's like he thinks it's unnatural." He gives Tony a looking-over. "You, I got the feeling you do cut loose, but it's partially to hide from yourself."


Tony's brows lift, and he says, "Do you have me figured out?" He doesn't deny it, though. Instead, he says, "If I'm not working, I'm thinking about working, so it's easier just to work. The parties, the drinking, the women, it's all part of the business. My job has leisure built-in. Not a bad gig if you can get it."


Bucky's lips purse. "I'd hardly say I got you all figured out," he says, slowly. "I'm not so smart as Steve, let alone you. But I know people better'n Steve does - I was an NCO in the war, and when you gotta lead a squad of guys, get 'em to hold together and do what's needed, if you're gonna be a good one you learn a thing or two about people." There's a little, rueful grin. "Leisure's not the same. Do you know how to fish?"


Tony laughs and shakes his head. "No, I've never been fishing." He cleans the arm's pieces in short, brisk sweeps, and he tickles a few more nerves in the process, but it's all part of making sure the arm is reacting properly. "I was never outdoorsy. We're tool-using animals that build shelters for a reason."


"You should give it a try. Might be restful for you," he suggests. "It's very relaxing, just kind of being able to sit and wait. I've managed to get Steve to go fishing a time or two." He snorts. "HEre's a guy claiming to be Captain America and he's never really seen the country except when he did that war bonds tour during the war, and no time for sightseeing then."


"You realize that, within ten minutes of waiting, I will have given up and designed a modernized weir that will not only catch the fish but fillet them and package them for me." He works over the interior of the fingers now, inspecting the job thoroughly. "Tell you what, if you can get Rogers to take a vacation, I will, too."


Tony's seen that look of fond exasperation before, mostly directed at Steve, when it's not at one of the pups. "I'm sure," he says, mildly. "But that's not the *point*. The point is to make your mind be quiet, Tony, without having to resort to something chemical. I've gotten Steve to take one. But I'll do it again. He needs one, after babysitting the kids. You need one, too."


Tony says mildly, "If he goes, I'll go. It can even be the same trip if that'll make it easier for you. I'll tell the papers I'm going overseas so they won't follow us to wherever we go. It'll be, what do you call it, subtle? Private." Because that's another thing he doesn't have a lot of, privacy.

He finishes cleaning out the fingers, the reassembles them. "That sleeve is going to put me out of a job at this rate," he says.


"We should do that," Buck says, firmly. "Boys' trip. Scarlett can watch the kids….or hell, no, we'll bring the kids. They need to run around in the woods. The city life isn't good for them. We can commandeer some old resort up in the Catskills, get a bunch of cabins. Swim, before it's too cold to." As if it's ever too cold for Buck and the Siberians. "Canoe. Have campfires. Walk in the woods. Fish."


"I can get us cabins," Tony offers. "Though this sounds absolutely nightmarish, I hope you're not pulling some elaborate prank. Remember, Rogers has got to agree to it or no deal. You can't bribe him or blackmail him, either. It's got to be a genuine agreement." He slides the arm plates back into place. "There, does that all feel right?"


He makes that familiar little flex and roll gesture that settles all the plates back into place. Like a hawk settling its feathers. "I know Steve Rogers. I'll ge him to agree," he says, with utter confidence. And then, "C'mon, tony. When you were a kid, you had to do things that weren't building things."


"I read a lot," Tony says. "My dad was a busy man, Barnes. He was always working. We didn't really do family vacations. When I wasn't building stuff, I was learning stuff, then I was designing stuff." He shrugs a shoulder. I had a lot of free time just hanging around while my old man was getting stuff done." He takes up the sleeve, folding it down so that, after the hand is put on, it can just be rolled up.


"Then it's time to learn to relax," Buck says, with that maddening assurance. "Uncle Buck and his eight crazy kids, and Steve Rogers. I bet you've never even eaten smores, have you?"


"Some what?" Tony asks. He works the sleeve on, making sure all the fingers are lined up just so. The he begins unrolling it onto the metal arm. "At least the eight crazy kids will be a diversion," he says. "If they don't decide to hunt me for sport. I'll have you know I'm spry for an older man."


Bucky laughs at that, flicking his fingers at Tony. "It'll be good for you, running through the woods," he says. "And smores. Toasted marshmallows, chocolate, graham crackers. You're gonna love 'em. Fresh-caught trout, that, too. It'll be good - they can get to know you, be less afraidof you. Of everyone. They'll watch you a lot."


"I'll bring my chef," Tony says. "For that trout. Maybe a couple bottles of fine Chardonnay. Are we thinking of catching any salmon? I could bring a Pinot Noir." He smooths the sleeve, then nods to himself. Looks good. "I'll bring some vodka for the boys. They'll feel right at home."


Bucky shakes his head. "Nope. Teetotal. The kids don't need to drink, God knows. Hell, I don't. I have real problems when I do," He's firm. Buck has decided, so it shall be. It's his party, etc.


Tony leans back, holding up a hand. "Wait, wait, wait. You want us to go out into the wilderness, where bears live, to fend for ourselves and sit around all day not working on new inventions, and I can't drink? Are you trying to make me go insane?"


Bucky fixes that pale stare on him. "I'm trying to help you learn a new skill - coping without it," he says, bluntly. "That's what. I can see just the idea makes you antsy….and that makes you clear you need it. You don't get to pickle one of the greatest brains currently working, Tony."


"I'm preserving it," Tony says. "It's not the drinking so much, it's not having anything to do in the absence of it. I like my lab. I like getting my hands on things." He wags a finger at Bucky. "If Rogers agrees, and if we do this, when we get back, you get to help me out for a week. You'll see how fulfilling it can be."


He gets another skeptical snort. "That's exactly my point. You can barely stand to be alone with yourself, and i's long past time you learned. Agreed. I'll be your lab rat or Igor for a week."


"I've met me," Tony points out. "Most people can barely stand to be alone with me after the first couple hours. But all right, you're going to be an engineer for a week. We'll work on something simple, like an engine. Anyone can build an engine. I could do it when I was six."


Bucky grins at him. "I'm okay with machines. Have had to be for a while now." He looks at the arm….and for once, there's no bitterness there. It is what it is.


Tony puts away the tools he uses to work on Bucky's arm. They go in their own little case, and he's designed most of them. "Great. We'll be keeping a pretty busy schedule. I hope caffeine does something for you, because we're going to be more or less living on it."


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