Bucky's eyes blinked open and adjusted to the soft dawn light. At the end of the bed Max sat in her little corner and glanced up when Bucky shifted. She had taken to doing this in past couple days; crawling into the bed and sitting at Bucky's feet when he seemed restless. Just the unconscious knowledge of another presence helped to ground Bucky and remind him of his security. Bucky was fairly certain he had never thanked her outright, but something told him she got the idea. Max smiled and slid off the corner.

"Can't sleep?" She whispered, even though they were the only two people in the apartment.

"How long have you been up?" Bucky countered, sitting up and pushing hair out of his eyes.

"Long enough." Max smiled. The 'watching you sleep' part went without saying. Padding to the door in bare feet with frozen toes Max looked back to wait for Bucky to decide if today was an out of bed morning. Bucky swung his legs out from under the blankets and immediately regretted this decision. It was cold on the hardwood, and after being regularly frozen and thawed the cold wasn't something a Bucky was particularly fond of. He took the time to search for socks, but couldn't remember where they got put away. After opening the third drawer Max cleared her throat. When Bucky glanced over he noticed her tilted head in the direction of the dresser next to the door. Bucky slowly walked over and she gently added, "Second drawer."

With socks to combat the cold Bucky followed Max to the kitchen and watched as she switched on the coffee pot to make a cup for Bucky. She pulled the milk from the fridge and slid the fruit bowl toward Bucky. With careful consideration he picked out an orange, a fruit he was pretty sure he was only recently fond of, and set to work carefully peeling in one continuous piece. There was something satisfying about having a simple task to do with his hands, it helped him to get down the fine motor skills in his left hand that didn't involve fighting or pulling a trigger.

"So, anything you want to talk about? Questions? Concerns?" Max didn't stop preparing her breakfast but looked at Bucky once or twice.

"Not right now." Bucky mumbled, focused on his orange peel.

"Alright." That was one of the things that made Bucky like Max. She would always ask if he wanted to talk, but she would never try to force him. If Bucky wasn't ready, she left it at that. If Bucky ever had a question she did her best to find him an answer. One of the things Bucky appreciated most was when they would lapse into silence and it never felt awkward, or like Max was waiting for something.

"Actually," Bucky began, pausing for Max to hand him his coffee. "I have been wondering something."

"Okay." Max sat down across the counter and reached for a banana.

"It's stupid."

"Is it whether or not the moon is made of cheese?"

"No..."

"Then it isn't stupid." She smiled, giving Bucky just enough confidence to push it out.

"Does Steve still sketch?" There was a long pause where Max seemed stopped in her tracks. After a bit her eyes shifted from Bucky to the counter top, confused. She looked around a bit, thinking, setting down her banana and biting her lip. After about two minutes she looked back up with a very tiny expression and sad eyes.

"I didn't know he ever started." She whispered, and the weight of the world crashed onto her shoulders. "He uh... He doesn't really talk to me about... Before. About his life."

"Oh." Bucky breathed.

"I think... I think it makes him sad." Max said. She pulled her lip into her mouth like there was something she was thinking about saying. "I only ever asked about one thing. You."

Oh... It's not important." Bucky tried to brush it off, for Max. "Don't worry about it, it's not you."

"Sometimes that's hard to believe." Max responded sadly. Bucky felt for her, really he did, but something gave him the indication that there were things Steve wasn't forthcoming about with anybody. Bucky was sure there were things pressed down and compacted in the corners of his mind that Steve would be too pleased if they never came to life. Max broke his thoughts with a question. "Do you remember what it was like?"

"What what was like?" Bucky asked dumbly.

"Life. Before everything became complicated with the war and... Other things." Max looked at him with all this hope, and Bucky felt guilty that he couldn't remember hardly anything. "You don't have to tell me, I just thought two birds one stone. You could practice remembering and I could learn more. I've always wondered, ya know?"

"I don't remember a lot," Bucky admitted, but when he caught sight of Max's amber eyes shimmering at him like sad little stars he added on, "but I guess it's worth a shot. What did Steve mention?"

"Only good things." Max smiled. "He said you were charming."

"Don't believe a word he says." Bucky quipped. "I don't know so much about charming, but I suppose I was popular with the girls. I only wish their interest wasn't so superficial."

"What about Steve? How was his luck with the ladies?" Mac leaned over the counter, rapt.

"It was... Tragic." Bucky admitted, taking the time to recall more. "None of them deserved him, he was too good for most of 'em."

"Most? So there were some?" Max scooted a little closer, and Bucky tried to pick his brain. There was something there, but it was distant, fleeting.

"I think... Yes." Bucky looked at Max with furrowed brow. "Someone."

"Okay." Max settled down, trying not to push her luck. "But I bet he got a lot more attention once Cap hit the scene."

"Yeah." Bucky smiled just a bit, remembering fondly. "Once he beefed up, I was old news. No one wanted a piece of Bucky anymore." Bucky left his hands on the counter but leaned back. After a moment he felt Max's hand over his own.

"I want a piece of Bucky." She admitted quietly. With a growing smile that looked too sweet on her and made part of Bucky's heart soften she went on. "I want all the pieces of you, because I like you."

"I like you too Max." Bucky admitted. They finished their breakfast quietly and planned the days activities. There wasn't a lot to do with Steve out on business, but Max brought up something she had been meaning to do for a while. Incidentally, Max needed to get a haircut which was just the kind of low stress situation that Bucky needed to reacquaint himself with the world. With only a bit of apprehension Bucky got dressed and pulled on a dark hoodie and tied his hair up. Max was waiting next to the door and carefully locked the apartment behind them. They were about halfway down the stairs when Max took his right hand and didn't let go. It felt foreign but strangely comforting and Bucky figured that if nothing else he would do it for Max. He reasoned that maybe she held Steve's hand all the time and it was only natural for her, but in the back of his mind he knew that this was something Max was doing to make him feel better. It worked.

They sat on the bus and Bucky looked around nervously despite Max being pressed into his side. Because of the angle Bucky had to put his arm around her, which wasn't so bad really. It reminded him of nights a long time ago, which nervously prompted him to lean to Max and whisper.

"No one thinks that I'm..."

"Mm-mn." Max responded, eyes glued to the bus schedule. "If anything they might think you're my brother." Truth be told that was comforting.

They hopped onto a few different transports and finally made it to a small shop that looked reputable but moderately priced. Max held Bucky's hand and spoke to the woman at the counter. She seemed nice enough; a few more piercings than Bucky remembered girls having, but pleasant to talk to. Max was taken relatively quickly and Bucky sat in one of the chairs at the front, slumped down and out of direct sight. His thoughts wandered a bit, trying to remember some things. Earlier Max had asked a question and he was positive he knew the answer. There had been someone in Steve's life; a woman. Bucky could picture her but he couldn't remember her name. He couldn't remember much of anything. He sat there, working through the problem, focused entirely on trying to find the answer. He could hear Max chatting away in the background, making conversation as she got her hair done, but Bucky wasn't paying much attention. This problem was taking a long time, and Bucky was consumed by it.

"Bucky!" Max called for the third time. Bucky finally looked up, breaking his thoughts. "How does it look?" Max was all sweetness, standing there with a smile on her face and brand new hair. It was soft brown and complimented her eyes and the springy locks framed her face. Bucky thought she looked just like Carter, Peggy Carter, and the thought took the wind out of him. "What do you think?"

"I think... You look nice." Bucky kept the talking to a minimum. He was sure Steve was going to be surprised, and he wasn't really sure how he was going to explain the situation to him. "Come on squirt." Bucky stood up and opened the door, waiting for Max to smile and wave at the stylist and bounce out of the shop, hair swishing over her shoulders.

"You really like it?" Max asked, walking backwards on the sidewalk to look at Bucky. "What will Steve say? How do you think he'll feel?"

"It looks nice," Bucky assured her. "Steve will... Deal." Max seemed moderately satisfied and fell into step with Bucky. She reached out and grabbed his left hand out of his pocket, surprising Bucky. At first he wanted to pull away, but he didn't. After a few step he worked up the nerve to say something. "Kid, you know you don't HAVE to hold my hand."

"... Okay." Max looked up at him and blinked, but held onto his hand. They walked for a distance more in silence before Max started to bounce again. "I have so much energy now! I could bake, like, a dozen cookies!"

So they swung by the store and picked up some ingredients.

One instructional video and a dozen dirty dishes later Max and Bucky sat at the island nibbling on cookies. Max had done pretty much all the work but she insisted that Bucky helped. She asked him to pull out the cookie sheets once they were baked and actually insisted he use oven mitts. At first Bucky was puzzled but he was flattered she cared about him so much.

Steve walked through the door and looked between the two of them. He noticed a lot of things at first, but had learned a while ago how to approach things. He walked over and grabbed a cookie, glancing at Max and sliding a hand through her hair.

"What happened to Max?" He asked, biting into the cookie. It was soft and still warm, chocolate chips still partially melted and the perfect ratio of chips to dough. It was perfect; it wasn't Max's.

"Max 2.0?" She shrugged. "Do you like it?"

"It, uh... Yeah. It just reminds me..." Steve couldn't find the words.

"Peggy." Bucky supplied. Steve was quiet for a while.

"Who's Peggy?" Max asked.

"The only woman that deserved him."

"Buck, that's not true." Steve spoke up. "You shouldn't say that in front of a pretty dame."

"Max is a girl, she doesn't count." A small grin split his face. "She wouldn't date you anyway; it's a shame since she cooks so well."

"Bucky that's sexist." Max chastised, but her grin and laugh broke the severity of it.

"Yeah she cooks well alright." Steve finished his cookie. "Copies the masters is more like it. Would have been more special to see her real talent."

"You know the only thing I'm talented at is the bugle." Max laughed, but it got Bucky's attention.

"The kid plays the bugle?" His amused expression said everything.

"Yeah, well... She's full of surprises today." Steve admitted, as he nudged Max's cheek affectionately.

Later in the evening Steve was looking over mission reports while Max and Bucky sat watching the sunset. He could hear Max talking excitedly about all the science behind the setting and Bucky listened quietly, interested. After the sunset Max flicked on a lamp and braided Bucky's hair, which he found was strangely relaxing. Sitting on the floor while Max knelt on the couch and talked quietly about what new techniques she was practicing. Bucky said that maybe someday he would teach her some things too, if he ever got well enough to be back in the field.

It got later and later and soon it was dark outside. A soft glow came from the living room and Steve could hear Max getting slower as she spoke and sunk farther into Bucky's shoulder. The sweetest moment was when she actually asked if Bucky was okay with it. Truth be told, her falling asleep against him made Bucky feel more human than any of the therapy ever had.

Somewhere around 10:30 Bucky stood up from the couch carrying Max and passed by Steve who had gotten a glass of water. "I'm gonna take her to bed, alright?"

"Yeah, sure Buck. Thanks." Steve smiled appreciatively and sipped at his water.

"Hey Steve?" Bucky sounded a little nervous now, but Steve just nodded, telling him whatever it was was alright to ask. "Do you ever sketch anymore?"

Steve was a little taken back, but answered nonetheless. "I'm a little out of practice..."

"What's the matter? Not seeing any pictures worth capturing?" Steve looked at Bucky with braided hair, standing there with Max draped over him in the soft lamp light, and he smiled.

"I'm starting to..." Steve whispered.