Don’t Make Any Sudden Moves || Bucky & Sam
@wingsonwilson
The car is his rented stolen-- hot-wired from a junkyard upstate, and mercifully doesn’t smell like it’s been sitting rusting to waste for too long.
He’s ditched his civilian clothes for black tac gear-- the bottom half of a uniform that no longer feels like his, a plain black shirt concealing light body armor, and a well-worn leather jacket. He hasn’t donned the uniform in...too long, he thinks. Hasn’t had the right the chance since the Helicarrier crash; no one wants a ‘terrorist’ representing their country’s ideals. Maybe, once this is over, when he can walk away with a level conscience knowing it’d been worth it, he’d be free to make up for lost time-- for the bloodying of his name in an effort to scrub it clean.
He glances at Sam.
( maybe )
In any case, now - parked outside a few houses down from Joe Robard’s home - is definitely not an occasion that calls for patriotic flash, no matter how suited to stealth his uniform may be compared to Steve’s standard.
Bucky’s gaze drops to the bag of assorted, homemade snack food resting in Sam’s lap that’s currently being rifled through (and not offered). He waits a few deadpan, pointed seconds before--
“You gonna’ share or keep that to yourself the whole night?”
