Bucky's POV:

Bucky was just trying to relax on the couch when the lights suddenly started the flicker green.

Now, he had seen a lot of things in his 70-plus year stint as an assassin, but having an angry girl fall out of the fully intact ceiling really took the cake. At a glance, she had dark hair pulled into a side-braid and stormy gray eyes that were glazed over, disoriented but still trying to survey her surroundings. A steel bow was clenched in her hand- not the fancy compound one that Clint used, though; it looked to be the more traditional type of bow, shining a dull silver color.

She was also wearing a suit similar to the ones commissioned by SHIELD, although there were minute differences:

Red highlights outlined the shoulders, and the material was clearly made for practicality. The pant legs were tucked into heavy-duty boots— military-grade by the looks of it— and there were clear marks of abuse on the material. There was also, strangely enough, a pin of what looked like a bird stapled to her collar.

Who was she? Was she a threat? He wasn't sure if asking her first was the best course of action, seeing how tense she was. Her fingers were bleeding white with her grip on the metal, an arrow already knocked and aimed at him, and Bucky had to remind himself that she was most likely just confused and desperate for information.

In any other situation, he would have been shocked into his training as the Winter Soldier and immediately gone in to neutralize the threat, but since living in Stark's tower, he had been desensitized to all sorts of weird happenings. Instead, he had stood from the couch, stance wary and hands facing palm-out, and tried to look as non-threatening as possible…which was probably still fairly threatening…

Her questions confused him though; why would she ask him if he was from D.C.? Who was this 'Peeta' guy she's asking about? Clearly there were some breaks in communication, but when Bucky tried to alleviate the tension it only seemed to make her even angrier.

In all honesty, she was adorable- she was maybe brushing 5 feet tall and had wide Bambi eyes, but it was the fire in her glare that really made him pause. He had seen that look in some of his war-buddies back in the day after they had come back from a battle, fierce and flighty and fracturing. It was a look that had no place on this little girl.

She definitely wasn't part of the military; from what he knew, the age restrictions on enlisting soldiers was even harsher than before, and the girl couldn't even be 18. Perhaps a rebel faction? Maybe even a run-away from Hydra, like himself? Her accent was subtle but there, and he had no idea if he had ever heard it. Wherever she was from, it was obvious that she had gone through hell, and while they had only just met he was determined to make her smile.

When her bow raised up to aim her arrow between his eyes, though, he knew he had one chance to not fuck this up. He wouldn't get shot- his training as the Winter Soldier made him confident of that- but she was trying to establish some control over the situation which he could respect.

"My name is James," he said slowly, hands still raised in as nonthreatening a manner as he could manage. "I don't know any Peeta. You were the only person transported here."

Their eyes locked in an intense staring match, slate against iron, a clash of wills. He refused to look away and, judging by the way she clenched her teeth, she didn't plan to be the first.

"Listen- I have no idea who you are, or where you're from, but right now we're in New York and you're in the Stark Tower. It's the 17th of October, and the year is 2014. My name is James and I have never met Peeta."

He just as slowly lowered his arms, stepping back to take a careful seat on the couch he was previously laying on, making himself smaller to try and ease her mind. She narrowed her eyes at him, a calculating look on her face that spoke of well-deserved wariness.

She nodded once, an almost imperceptible tilt, and withdrew her arrow. She retreated to the back wall that had an unobstructed view of the room and its exits, settling down on her haunches and ready to run at a moments notice.

"…Katniss."

Well, it looked like progress was made after all.