For Tony Stark

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[He's been on the run for what feels like decades, but is really only a few months. He knows he's doing a good job at being hidden because ever since the helicarriers fell out of the air there hasn't been a single confirmed sighting of him, and he knows that Steve is looking. Not just Steve, either. He's just not ready to be found yet.

The easiest way to move between countries, he's found, is by stowing away on private chartered flights. They're usually less attended than commercial flights, and if he can get on board then it's fairly easy to avoid the one or two passengers and crew. He has no idea that the flight he's stowed away on is Tony Stark's private jet, and that it's only Tony himself on board.

At least not until he hears a disembodied voice speaking throughout the plane once they're in the air. It's JARVIS, not that he has any idea who that is.]

Sir, scans of the plane show that there's a man crouching in your cargo hold. I wasn't aware you were transporting any men today.

Comments

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Good, then we have a deal.

[A very tentative one that could fall apart at any moment, but a deal nonetheless. He finally moves toward Tony to come out of the cargo hold.]

I don't believe you don't have your tools, or the ability to make a scan, but I don't care as long as you don't use them.

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Sweet talk me some more.

[The smile he gives Barnes as he steps back to let the man out of the hold is dry, but there's a genuine amusement underneath. It's not enough that Tony manages to get overestimated.]

But if you think I'd settle for inferior equipment, you're talking to the wrong guy. Sit anywhere you want.

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[Once they hit the main cabin, Bucky appraises the various seats before he chooses the one that seems to give him the best view of every direction possible. He manages to look both intimidating and intimidated.]

You know, this really wasn't in the plan, running into Iron Man in the air.

[He pulls off his hoodie to display the arm, as promised.]

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No kiddin'?

[It's asked in his best deadpan as Tony waits semi-patiently for Barnes to choose his perch, then drops unceremoniously down next to him. As if the man trying to dig his way out of a plane at altitude hadn't made it abundantly clear exactly what Barnes thinks of his company. Tony might almost be insulted.

He'd much rather focus on the arm coming into view, though.]

I mean, as much as I'd like to think of you going through all this trouble just to meet little old me.

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Better you than some of the others.

[Stark, from what he can tell, is less intensely loyal and truthful to Rogers than some of the rest of the Avengers, which means he's preferable to people like Falcon.]

Where is this plane bound for, anyway?

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That's just what a boy likes to hear. That he's better than the alternative.

[The agreement is both solemn and deadpan as Tony gingerly reaches for Barnes' metal wrist, giving the man ample time to either get away or flip out. Best to get that out of the way quickly.]

Geneva. Why, you want to tag along? I could tell everyone you're my bodyguard, it'd be fun. Well. Boring as hell. But fun for me.

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I don't think you'd be welcome if you brought a wanted terrorist as a bodyguard.

[Geneva's not too bad, there could be worse places for him to land and disappear, lots of options for directions.]

Will the others be there?

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You say that like it'd be hard to disguise you. It's amazing what an actual shower can do.

[He might be thinking a little too much about what Barnes would look like de-hoboed. Time to focus on the arm instead. Not that it's hard to get distracted by that. It's a serious piece of work, and man what he wouldn't give to see the inner workings. Alas.]

By the others, you mean Avengers? Do you see anyone else here?

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[Bucky doesn't twitch if Stark goes for his arm, he did promise to let him examine it and so he's prepared for it.]

Just because they're not here, it doesn't mean they're not meeting you there.

[And he's not even going to dignify that shower comment with a reply.]

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Well, they aren't. Most people find arguing with politicians boring, for some weird reason.

[There were reasons the glad-handing mostly got left to Tony himself. Most of the time he doesn't mind. At the moment, he can't even remember why he would.

He runs his fingers lightly over the lines of plating on Barnes' wrist, like he's trying to track the mechanics of it. Even just the way everything arranged is impressive. Horrifying, yes, but impressive.]

Can I ask questions or are you going to flip out on me?

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You can ask whatever you want.

[It doesn't mean that he's necessarily going to answer the question; either because he doesn't know, or because he just doesn't trust Stark as far as he could throw him. Considerably less, actually, since he can throw him pretty far if he wants to.]

What do you want to know?

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[His eyes flick briefly up to Barnes' face like he's trying to gauge how honest the guy is being. Whatever he sees makes one corner of his mouth tip up slightly before his attention goes right back to the arm.]

What kind of sensation do you get out of this thing? Obviously you've got pretty good motor control, there's got to be some kind of force feedback.

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Pressure, hot, cold, pain.

[He doesn't have anything more than that. He doesn't have nerves that can sense softness, for example, but he can sense extremes in temperature, how hard to grip something, or if something is damaged.]

It's connected to my nerves up through the shoulder.

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Yeah?

[Tony's eyes trace up the metal line of his arm to the shoulder in question before he nods to himself. Okay, so that makes sense. In a kind of brutalist way, but that does seem to be the theme here. He carefully rotates Barnes' wrist in his hands, following the way the joints move.]

Pain as in the whole thing getting jostled or pain as in registering damage?

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Mostly registering damage, I have to be able to report back if any maintenance needs doing.

[Or he did. There's nobody to do maintenance and repairs now, and he's certainly not going to put himself back into the hands of HYDRA to let them do it.]

It's a vibranium alloy, so it's pretty hard to damage badly.

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You'd be surprised.

[But that one's more to himself as Tony's concentration zeroes back in on the arm for a long moment. He stares like he might somehow manage to be able to see through the damn thing, then finally sighs and leans back, carefully letting go of the arm.]

Right, so. Drink?

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Orange juice.

[There's not much point in him having alcohol, the serum stops it from doing anything for him, and he's settled enough by now to not suspect Stark of trying to poison or otherwise harm him.]

...you're not what I thought you'd be.

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[Tony’s eyebrow lifts, but he pushes out of the seat to head over towards the bar. There are mixers, at least, and he finds a container of orange juice.]

What exactly were you expecting?

[He doesn’t look over as he asks, pouring out Barnes’ drink and then starting on his own. One significantly more alcoholic. He can use it at this point.]

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A jerk.

[He's fairly blunt in his assessment. Not because he's intending to be rude, but his social skills are definitely not one of the things that have returned to him yet.]

From what I've read, sounds like you're a real piece of work.

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Oh, I am.

[He flashes a grin a Barnes over his shoulder as he finishes up with the drinks. And gives in to the impulse to drop a maraschino cherry into the orange juice glass, just for the hell of it.]

You're just interesting enough for me to be on good behavior.

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You think I'm interesting?

[That doesn't seem right, he's at least self aware enough to know that he's monosyllabic and bad social company for pretty much anyone these days.]

Or is that just because I stowed away on your plane?

[He'll take the drink with a slightly confused look at the cherry... why?]

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[He gets a wider smile in response, full of teeth, as Tony drops back into the seat across from him.]

You're a puzzle, friend. I've always found those interesting.

[A pause as he takes a long drink, never breaking eye contact.]

And a little because you broke into my plane, yes. If I'm providing unexpected hospitality, the least you can do is entertain me.

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[He pokes at the cherry with one finger before setting the whole drink aside.]

I could've thrown you out and stolen the plane.

[Just pointing that out.]

Might be easier than trying to be entertaining.

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You could have.

[It's an easy agreement as Tony watches him over the rim of his glass.]

Wouldn't have done you much good, but you could have. But then we wouldn't be having this charming conversation.

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[This is the longest conversation he's had with anyone for a very long time, and Stark is utterly befuddling.]

You're awful calm for someone talking to someone like me.