Bucky spent the majority of the next day dreading this dance date. The only reason he slept at all that night was that Stark put him under general anesthesia and a double dose of elephant tranquilizers. Literally elephant tranquilizers, as he'd informed Bucky. He slept those eight hours without dreams or flashes for the first time since he defected. It was a night of peace. He may have been influenced also by the fact that Stark had put him up for the night in a titanium enforced room that had no windows and a metal door that magnetically sealed from the outside. A man without worries sleeps soundly, apparently.

"Good morning, Mr. Barnes. Can I interest you in an espresso or a cup of hojicha?"

Bucky froze on the bed. He had just been sitting up and shaking off the effects of the tranquilizers when a disembodied British male asked him about… some things Bucky didn't recognize. It took him a second to remember he was in Stark Tower and that Stark had a personal assistant that was a sentient computer. He was also British for some reason.

"Uh… no, thank you?" He didn't know where to look and answer. It was disorienting.

"Very well. Mr. Stark is in the garage if you would like to join him. Otherwise, I may escort you to the kitchen."

Escort? How could a disembodied voice escort him? He was hungry, though. Very hungry.

"The… kitchen, I guess? Please."

"Very well. This way, if you will." The door unsealed with a pop and opened to the hallway.

Bucky scrambled to pull on a fresh set of shirt and pants, which Stark had insisted on buying to replace the set Bucky'd been wearing for several days, and then stepped cautiously out of the door. To his left another door opened leading to an elevator.

"This way, sir."

"Thank you," Bucky muttered and then slipped into the elevator. It started off on its own, giving Bucky the heebie-jeebies. This world was difficult to get accustomed to in many ways, this was one of the worst. There used to be elevator operators. Bucky wondered where all those jobs went.

"The kitchen, sir."

Bucky stepped out and peered around. This wasn't a kitchen, it was an assembly hall full of appliances and marble. He had no idea how to operate half of the machines in there, though a few of them vaguely resembled things he used to use, like ovens and ranges. He couldn't find the refrigerator, though, until he walked into it, trying to leave.

"Holy cow, who needs a refrigerator this big?" He asked no one in particular.

Refrigerator discovered and pantry pointed out by JARVIS, another moment that frightened Bucky to the point of almost going red (the pantry door was his only casualty and Bucky hoped Stark wouldn't be the one to notice its hinges were missing), he was able to scrape together a meal he knew about. He still didn't trust the microwave, something about it being close to the H-bomb frightened him, so he avoided it. But he could use the toaster and the range. He made eggs and toast and sat down, alone in the middle of the enormous room, to enjoy it.

The door opened a few minutes later and Dr. Banner appeared, mug in hand, glasses askew and hair mussed on one side. He was carrying a bunch of papers and one of Stark's book-sized computers.

"Oh, good morning, Bucky." He was surprised to find him there. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Like a dead man," he replied, and not without irony.

"Mmm, good. I figured the anesthetics would do the trick. Any dreams?"

"None at all."

Banner set down all his things across the table from Bucky. "I'll make a note of that. Maybe we can find a way to simulate the full unconsciousness of medicated sleep by monitoring your brain waves tonight and just triggering your neural patterns electrically."

Bucky swallowed slowly. He didn't like the sound of 'electrically' and Banner must have picked up on his hesitation.

"Oh, don't worry. You won't feel it and it won't cause any damage." He nodded as he typed on the screen of the computer and then scribbled in his papers. "I just can't seem to abandon the paper. So silly." He muttered and reached for his mug.

"Did you sleep well, Dr. Banner?"

"Oh, well, no, but it's alright. I just got engaged with some calculations and then I started on this… anyway, I got distracted. I dozed off around five but then I thought of something in that twilight place which woke me up and I just kept working. Would you like some coffee?"

"No, thank you. It doesn't really do anything for me anymore and I never really liked the taste."

"Mmm. So, did you find something to eat?"

"I actually did. Turns out you haven't replaced chickens or wheat yet with your new-fangled bio…stuff. I can cook eggs."

Banner chuckled quietly and sat back down with his mug steaming. "That's good. Good. Are you excited about this evening?"

Bucky didn't want to offend Banner but he also didn't want to lie.

"I'm nervous."

"Oh, that's natural, I think, returning to something you haven't done in a while, but Maria Hill was very interested in you and you know more about this sort of thing than Tony and probably the rest of the people in that dance hall will. You'll be fine."

"Are you sure I couldn't just ask Ms. Romanoff?"

"No. No, that can't happen. She explicitly said that you two cannot interact until you're able to have a flash back and work through it without losing primary consciousness. Besides, she's in deep cover and can't afford to possibly expose herself here, even with the facial hologram."

"Oh." Bucky pushed the last few pieces of his eggs around on the plate and tried not to seem too disappointed.

"Hey!"

Bucky turned to find the whole south wall of the room illuminated with a picture of Stark and a collection of gadgets.

"Are you going to just sit there all morning or are you going to come look at prototypes?"

Bucky turned around to see if there was a camera behind him.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you, Buckleberry Finn. Come on, I want to fabricate tonight while we're out so we can get you into surgery with Lawson tomorrow morning. Oh, Christ. What? You can't just open doors? You have to rip 'em off their hinges?"

Bucky looked around again. How could Stark see the pantry door, too? "But I-I thought you were in the garage."

"Yeah, and in case you haven't noticed, this whole place is full of doors, stairs and elevators. I moved. Get up to the labs, you dinosaur, and try not to destroy anything on your way." The screen turned back into the wall and Bucky looked to Banner.

"Better get up there. He tends to make decisions without consulting others if left alone long enough."

Bucky swung out of the chair and, dropping his dishes in the sink, headed towards the elevator. "I'll wash those later..."

"Not to worry. Oh, and Bucky, try to work through your triggers today if you encounter any. Focus on things like you did last night, dancing and movies and Steve. The faster you're able to overwrite the impulses caused by unpleasant memories with calming reactions from happy ones, the faster you'll be able to confront the things that overlap, like Captain Rogers himself and Natasha."

"Right. Thanks, Dr. Banner."

"Yep, I'll be up there in a while. Don't kill Tony before I get there."

It was a joke but it made Bucky a little nervous. Stark did have a way of instigating him. Fortunately, by the time Bucky got to the labs, Stark was too excited about the prototypes to be dangerously obnoxious.

"There you are! So, I've narrowed us down to two possibilities. The first," Stark swiped his hand across his computer's display and conjured a floating arm in the air. "The first is my personal favorite. It simulates the biomechanics of the human arm precisely, because I've patterned it to be biologically mimetic. So this is the exterior, pretty standard. The skin'll be part yours, from the stem cells of your marrow. It'll give us receptor points for my cyber-nerve system. The other part'll be a silicon netting for strength, flexibility and a medium to house the repair cells. It won't have hair but otherwise it'll look just like your skin. Fingerprints, palm lines, even a flesh color response to heat, cold, and light."

Stark grinned broadly as Bucky wondered at the image. It looked incredible. He tapped the image twice and the schematics of the arm blew apart, skin detached from the arm and exposing the slivery fibers beneath.

"Now, the fun part. Skin's one thing, muscles, ligaments and tendons are another, so this part's all machine but it works like flesh, better than flesh. I've used an alloy similar to what I manufacture my suits from, hard, durable but light. This particular alloy is even lighter and slightly more flexible to allow for mobility. Now, there are about three billion threads of this making up the fibers of the twenty muscle groups. They contract and relax just like organic muscles, each strand bunching together or stretching out. So, you'll have normal, natural range of motion with reactions and reaction time that feels just like your other arm. Unlike your current model, it won't have to switch gears or rev up. Tendons and ligaments are constructed on the same premise, emulating anatomy."

He grinned and tapped again. This time the image left what looked like bones.

"And the skeleton, as literal as I can be when talking about metal. Again, based on the original, retro designs. Alloy bones, this time the exact kind as my suits, harder than the flesh stuff. You're not going to break these bones unless you wind up facing a Norse god or a trash compactor. I don't recommend either. Hollow," he tapped yet again, "inside's my favorite bit. Full diagnostic system and secondary operation unit. The arm responds to neural relays but in case that gets locked out, I've installed an infant AI OS you can initialize with your voice. Only your voice, we don't want you hijacked. This system, when dormant like it normally will be, will run diagnostics and initiate the repairs it can with its micro-bots. Bigger repairs we'll have to do surgically through specific micro access points."

Stark grinned again, a little maniacally and herded the detached pieces together again. They spun and then started moving, periodically separating again to show particular pieces operating. Bucky was so entranced, he didn't even notice Banner pad up beside him.

"Bruce! Look it, behold. It would make the Empire proud, or jealous. Prototype Luke Skywalker. Looks real, wielded by a hero. I thought about Number Six, but her storyline's so conflicted it seemed like bad juju. However, if I fabricated a full body for this jewel, not only would it be sexy as hell-sorry, Buck, wouldn't look like you-but it could reproduce with a human."

"That's disturbing," Bucky said, turning away from watching the metallic triceps contract and relax.

"I agree with Bucky, a little too cyborg apocalypse for my taste." Banner stepped up to the computer to inspect the read out. "Excellent stats, and the test sequences?"

"Ninety-nine percent without glitch."

Banner nodded. "That sounds excellent. What do you think, Bucky?"

"When people touch it will they feel that it's metal?"

Both Banner and Stark sighed deeply.

"On the surface, no. It'll feel like skin in texture and even heat, yeah I programed a body temperature simulator. But, uh, if someone grabs it or does anything applying pressure, yes, they'll be able to feel that it's harder than muscle. We talked about a layer of something spongy to simulate fat and softer flesh but the materials would be too delicate and would impede the arm's function."

Bucky couldn't say that wasn't disappointing, but it didn't take away from all the improvements this unit would offer. "Well, I like it. It'll be nice to feel again, and less staring."

"Copasetic. The next I've dubbed RoboCop and you'll see why. It's the same basic premise as Luke Skywalker, cyber-flesh and nerves so it'll look normal, but it's a little heavier duty inside."

Stark quickly swiped away the exterior of the model to reveal a denser more robotic looking schematic. "So, Luke Skywalker was designed with civilian life in mind, it's made for precision and camouflage. You won't be accidently breaking wine glasses with that one. The delicate construction of the muscle fibers created a design flaw, though, in the strength. It'll match and surpass your super soldier flesh limb by thirty one percent, but it can't reach the sheer power of the model you're wearing now. The muscle fibers are too fine, too true to the original to do that. So, RoboCop's got that raw force but less finesse, for if you want to… go back to being a living weapon."

Bucky cleared his throat but couldn't get the taste of bile out of his mouth. He didn't want that, but it would be rude to interrupt Stark's presentation.

"Don't get me wrong, you could easily still serve with Luke Skywalker. Accuracy and reaction time would be improved and the loss in power could be compensated for with, say, allies, like us good guys have, but with RoboCop you could go at it alone, block bullets with it and shit. You see I had to abandon the one-to-one mimetic muscle fibers with this one and create full muscle blocks. It still follows anatomical physics but macro level. RoboCop's also heavier because of the denser components, but not heavier than 1.0 there and it's got the internal systems like Skywalker."

He collapsed the arm back into one piece and tossed the other model out beside it.

"So, which one do you prefer?"

"The first. Definitely the first."

"Excellent." Stark tossed out of view the second model and enlarged the first, focusing on the shoulder joint. "So, Bruce, where are we with the graft?"

Banner exhaled loudly. "Well I've convinced one of my old colleagues in genetics to accept the samples. He's not a bioengineer but he knows the science, he can execute the grow. It'll be done in two days if he gets the Extremis compound from you, which I have to admit makes me a little nervous."

"What? It's a good piece of tech, why let it go to waste just because it was most recently responsible for creating human bombs? I've worked out the glitches… and the dragons. No more backfires, and I've recoded to not allow for fire-breathing, melting or anything of that sort. The thermo kickback was extraneous."

"Hmm," Banner pursed his lips, conceding but still wary.

"Are you talking about the AIM soldiers?" Bucky asked. "That was strange, but they weren't invincible. You just had to rip their head off."

Stark and Banner slowly turned to him.

"Are you speaking from experience, Adam?"

Bucky and Banner both paused on that one.

"What? No Buffy fans here? Fine… too obscure. Uh… Six million-no, done that one. Darth Vader, yup. Terminator, check, though not actually a cyborg. Gah, fine! You've got me, I don't have another one off the top of my head!" Stark threw his hands over his head. "Well, Bucky, did you rip a man's head off?"

"No."

They breathed a sigh of relief.

"The Winter Soldier ripped six of their heads off. They got in the way of a mission."

Stark's face visibly fell but Banner smiled. "That's good, you're distinguishing your disparate identities!"

"Yeah. Dissociated self only manually decapitated six molten murdersuits. Totally good news."

"Bucky's taking steps towards dealing with his psychological trauma. We shouldn't mock that. How're you doing with that, while we're on the subject? Wormhole's still a trigger word?"

Stark hissed and covered his ears, forehead sheening instantly with sweat and his pupils dilating to pinpricks. "Not cool. Just-just saying it with the word, not even having the courtesy to gently allude to-eh-to it. Hoo!" He was pacing in circles, breathing heavily and erratically.

Bucky recognized the symptoms. Stark was having an episode, but this seemed like fear not loss of self.

"It's an anxiety attack," Banner murmured, sidling over to where Bucky was watching. "It isn't dangerous, just feels like your world's collapsing, maybe a little like your chest'll implode. But he'll be fine. He owes you one, and it was about time he got knocked down a peg. Just breathe through it, Tony! You're doing great."

Stark shook a fist weakly at Banner but maintained his ritual like pace until his breaths came deeper and slower.

"I didn't know I wasn't the only one," Bucky said as Stark leaned over, finally stationary, and rested his hands on his knees.

"You're very far from the only one. PTSD is unfortunately a common condition. It manifests differently depending upon the trauma and the person. Tony has anxiety and occasional panic attacks, some people become violent or cripplingly shy. Yours is intensified by artificial amnesia and concentrates around the dichotomy of your dual identities. But, no. Absolutely not the only one, in fact, I bet there are at least a handful of others in your situation who are recovering from brainwashing."

"That was a real dickhead move, Bruce. Not Science Bro sporting. I'm revoking your lab privileges for the day." Stark was only half-shouting. His voice was still weak.

"Okay, well, just let me take the Extremis, so I can tell Watt it's on its way. Then I'll remove myself from the labs." Banner chuckled lightly as he headed to the other side of the lab.

"He's not going to leave, is he?" Bucky asked as Stark finally rejoined him by the prototype's image.

"Not even a little. So, you agreeing to this model?"

Bucky looked at it again. "Yes."

"You heard him, JARVIS, render Luke Skywalker's internal components and prepare the silicon net for organic material on… Tuesday? Whatever's two days from now. We'll schedule the surgery for the third day. Send a copy of the design to Lawson and tell him it's going to take longer to fabricate than I initially thought."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Buckminster Fuller, you and I have suits to try out. So, move it. We only have four hours and I don't know if that's enough to make you look less gloom and doom. Even with the suits. I look great in all of mine. But you… yeesh. Okay, move it faster." Stark waved at the door but then helped up a hand. "Actually, shower first. JARVIS, show our ragamuffin guest to a shower and get him a razor."

"Yes, sir."

"And hurry, Jack Frost. This isn't a rom-com, you're not going to go from Oliver Twist to Danny Zuko by taking off your glasses to a peppy music montage."

Bucky didn't know what half of that meant but he understood the urgency, so he followed the magically opening doors and tried to keep from feeling as though he'd just been repeatedly offended. He showered and shaved as quickly as he could, and was just pulling on under clothes when the door burst open.

"Hey, are you named after a president?" Stark swaggered inside, holding a martini glass and a bagel. "Oh, don't be so prudish. It's not like I haven't seen another man's junk. I went to college."

Bucky stopped flailing to pull on his robe and stuttered out, "uh, y-yes. James Buchanan, 15th president of our nation. My father liked history."

"Thought so. To name a kid after a president, though, you'd think you'd go big, like Abraham Lincoln or George Washington, but no, your old man went with the only known bachelor president. Strange. Anywho. You ready? You've been in here long enough."

Tony looked up from the small phone he was also carrying and rolled his eyes. "You were in your underwear and you still jumped like a kid caught masturbating. What's the matter with you? Come on. You… grandpa." He grabbed Bucky by the shoulders and dragged him along. "Stop squirming, you're dressed enough."

"But-"

"No one can see anything. You've got an undershirt on as well for god's sake. On the Shore, you'd be considered dressed for business casual. Serving time in the army, you'd think you'd get over this body bashfulness."

"There could be ladies around," Bucky said, checking over his shoulder to make sure no such person was in sight.

"Well, you're not going to embarrass women these days in that. Come on, meet Jenny. She's my buyer." Stark swept Bucky into a large room full of clothing racks and pushed him in front of a young woman in a skirt suit.

She smiled sweetly and held out her hand. "Jenny Todd, personal shopper, Mr. Stark. Happy to meet you, Bucky." She hardly even looked at the unit. Stark must have briefed her.

"Personal shopper, right. Anyway, Jenny's got suits. You've got fashion shortcomings. Go." He sat down on a long leather sofa and tossed back the rest of his martini. "JARVIS, hit me again."

Bucky caught sight of another martini rising from a side table just before he was shooed behind a dressing cubicle's curtain by Ms. Todd. He stepped out a few minutes later almost feeling more exposed than when he was just in his undergarments.

He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, miss, but does it have to be this… tight?"

Stark looked up, "that's how a suit's supposed to fit, when it actually fits."

"I feel… on display. Suits didn't used to be tailored this close. There was room, to move, to breathe."

"I think you look dashing, but this next one's a different cut, if you want to try it." Ms. Todd handed him another hanger and ushered him away again.

"Just make sure you hang that one up, Buck-o!"

"I don't know, Stark. This all seems overdone." He said, stepping out again. He felt like a circus ring-leader in this one.

"You're right, I like the first one better." Stark turned his nose up to Bucky and waved him off. "Next."

Bucky sighed and took the next hanger from Ms. Todd. This was going to be long, painful, and humiliating. Two suits later, Bucky finally stepped out feeling comfortable.

"Now, this is a retro cut. I selected it… well, because of what Mr. Stark told me." Ms. Todd stepped up to Bucky to smooth out the fabric over his shoulders. He even managed not to flinch away when she touched him. Stark appraised him looking moderately satisfied.

"It… suits you. Ha."

Ms. Todd continued, "looser cut in the shoulders and narrow in the waist with a straight leg and slight tapering to the ankle. No vent. Hard seams. Wide notch lapel. Three button closure. I had a waist coat in mind but… I don't think it'll work as well."

Bucky liked it the best so far. It almost felt familiar.

"And to add a modern twist, there's a slight herringbone pattern. Mr. Stark? Thoughts?"

Stark considered Bucky for a second. "I think we need a second opinion. BRUCE!" He shouted, waited four seconds and then shouted again.

"Sir? Shall I call Dr. Banner?" JARVIS interrupted a third attempt.

"Yeah, tell him we need his eye for detail. And to bring a bagel."

Banner stepped inside a few minutes later, with the requested bagel. "You summoned? Oh, Bucky, you look nice."

"Thank you," he replied to his feet.

"So, you like this one? I think we should put on the first and fourth ones as well for Bruce to see."

Bucky sighed.

"Wait, Bucky, do you like this one?"

"Just put the other two back on, Buck."

Bucky didn't wait for the two of them to stop quibbling. He figured it was easier just to do what Stark asked and get it over with. He squeezed back into the first suit and stepped back out.

"See? That one's nice, too. It's a good quality suit."

"Well, he looks like you, Tony. Do you want him to look like you?"

"No…"

"Then, maybe we should let Bucky choose the one he feels most comfortable in, which is clearly not this one."

"Okay, Mom. Put the other one on, Bucky."

Bucky stepped back behind the curtain, shaking his head. Stark was a bully. No wonder he and Steve didn't get along. If he hadn't done so much for him, Bucky'd have given him a piece of his mind.

"And this one's a three piece. Very nice." Stark nodded and then glanced at Banner, who was shrugging. "Oh, alright. Which one do you prefer, Total Recall?"

"The last one, the…" Bucky hesitated, how best to explain his choice...? "The one I'm not... on show in."

Stark rolled his eyes but waved his acceptance.

"I think he needs cufflinks." Banner added, "oh, and a pocket square. And wing-tipped shoes."

Stark rubbed his eyes with the butts of his palms hard, downing the next martini afterwards. "Let's see the ties, Jenny. And then somebody has to do something with his hair."