"Sergeant Buchanan! Fancy a drink?"

Bucky was used to hearing the call fall from the lips of the dames that frequented the lively and crowded bars - no, pubs. That's what they were called here in London, where he and the 101st remained while waiting for final deployment. The fact that it had come from an American voice, and a man's on top of it all, was surprising. Nevertheless, he self-consciously straightened his uniform and strode over to the small table in the back where the voice had come from. He was greeted by a blinding grin from one man and an indifferent glance from the other. It would not be said that Bucky was without manners, and he gave a formal salute to both of the elder soldiers.

"Put your hand down, kid," the one holding a cigar muttered, turning his head away as if it pained him to see the gesture. His companion sighed.

"And they say I'm the dramatic one," he huffed before turning his attention back to Bucky. "Fancy a drink? It's on me."

Although confused at their contradicting behaviors, Bucky nodded and lowered himself into the empty chair at the table. "Sorry, but have we met before?" He wasn't sure how the stranger knew his name, and if he was being honest, is was disconcerting.

"Ah, I had the pleasure of meeting a friend of yours when I was stateside, one Steven Rogers? He showed me a picture of the two of you."

The other man groaned, turning his exasperated gaze towards the ceiling as Bucky's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Now you've done it."

"Who the hell are you?" Bucky sharply asked.

"James Howlett, Jack Harkness," the man he now knew to be Howlett stated bluntly, pointing at himself and his friend in turn. "Take a drink already; it'll help with the annoyance." Howlett nudged the only full glass of beer towards him. Bucky stared at it hesitantly before grabbing it and taking several large gulps of the cool liquid.

"I can introduce myself, James," Harkness complained, rolling his eyes.

Howlett snorted in derision. "No." He returned his cigar to his mouth, finalizing his decision.

Bucky turned back towards Harkness. He wasn't used to not holding the reins of a conversation. "I don't understand. Why would you track me down?"

Harkness smirked in amusement. "Oh, I didn't. Fate's an interesting one sometimes." He nudged Howlett, who looked offended by the intrusion of his personal space. "Saw your pretty face and figured you'd be a nice addition to our little club."

Now this was a direction he could work with. "More to this soldier than just a pretty face, Harkness."

Harkness' smirk stretched into an inviting grin. "I don't doubt it."

"I think I'll leave you ladies to flirt in peace," Howlett interrupted before either of them could continue.

"Honey, you couldn't afford me." Harkness laughed as Howlett raised an eyebrow in response before walking off to the bar.

Bucky surveyed Harkness in amused awe. "Are you always like this?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Harkness shot back with a wink.

"Howlett was right," Bucky replied with a chuckle as he lifted his drink in mock salute. "I was going to need this."

"More where that came from."

"I'll take you up on that."

James sighed heavily once the chipper young sergeant left. "That's the one you're gonna look out for?"

Jack raised his glass in a mock salute. "Triple checked and everything. He's the best mate of a guy I met back in the States." He conveniently left out the fact that Steve Rogers hadn't asked him to specifically keep an eye out for Bucky Barnes, but Jack felt better doing so all the same.

"So now we're glorified babysitters."

Jack shrugged. "You said it, not me." He smirked at the other man's tired growl and reached out to clap him on the shoulder. "Think of it this way: with you helping me, it means I have more time to smuggle you in some more Cuban cigars."

"You drive a hard bargain, Jacqueline."

"And yet you keep me around, Jimmy."

James rolled his eyes as Jack sat back with a smug grin. Just another day for them.