Bucky remained behind in the empty plane, smiling to himself as he remembered moments from the flight home. First, there was Tony removing his helmet, revealing the silver bowl he wore underneath. He looked like Medusa, with tiny micro cables running in all directions attached to the suit. Not laughing proved to be impossible, Sam being the loudest offender.

With Bruce's help, Tony unhooked everything and freed himself from the gold and red suit. Then everyone took turns telling their version of events, everyone had a story of dodging bullets and almost friendly fire. Natasha's account of his arm shooting off the door got a big laugh but they stepped around him gingerly and kept asking him to 'point that thing the other way'. Bruce joked about not being sorry he missed everything and Rhodey had his own share of complaints about being sidelined with Bruce. Wanda remained quiet and once again sending an unspoken signal to Bucky she suspected something.

He hung the Shield back in its regular place above the weapons locker. The helmet came off as soon as the plane reached altitude and now he took the band out of his hair, letting his thick locks flow free. He planned on going straight to Shuri after he checked on Steve. Everything about the arm came from her brilliant mind and she would know why it acted on its own.

Long even strides sounded outside the plane. He recognized them but he must be mistaken. No way...

"Damn, you look good!" Steve smiled, ducking as he entered the plane and reached out for him, enfolding him in a bear hug. His instincts didn't fail him. Steve appeared rested. "Don't get too attached to the uniform, I'll want to use it again."

Buck pulled back but held onto Steve, giving him a once over. "When did you wake up?"

"This morning."

"You ok?"

"Right as rain!" He hugged him again but Bucky held up his good hand as a warning.

"Careful. My arm came alive.."

"So they told me. News travels fast. So everything else go ok?" he asked.

"Textbook. The leaders are in custody and they are dismantling the consortiums even as we speak. After everything we've gone through, they're almost gone... all because of your decision to come here," Bucky said, pulling at his collar. He'd been wearing the uniform too long and needed to get back in regular clothes. "You did the right thing coming here... and I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what?"

"When you disappeared into la-land, I told Sam everything and the rest of the team that I knew. Sam took it better than I did. We haven't told Wanda and Vision, but I think they suspect something..."

"I know. They told me. Don't worry about it. It was going to happen anyway, and it's done," Steve said, going into his thoughtful mood for a moment but snapped back to the present. "Listen, before you head off, I have an idea, A post-mission thing. Why don't you stay up here with me tonight, in my quarters?" Steve asked, reminding Bucky of a little kid begging for candy.

"But I need to..."

"All taken care of. Your friends, neighbors, more than happy to help. We'll go back, tomorrow after the briefing, but stay here, just for tonight." His hand rested on Buck's shoulders. "You've been in a firefight. You need time off to decompress," he said. "They understand."

Bucky hated to admit but Steve's suggestion made sense. He didn't want his little home associated with nightmares. "Sure, ok. Great. First, I need to clean up, to change..."

"Got your clothes, up in the room."

"Shuri..."

"She's waiting."

"So you've taken care of everything?"

"Nothing's too good for The White Wolf of Wakanda," Steve said. He grinned. He made a mock bow as he turned away to make his way back into the complex.

"Shut up!" Bucky called after him, his response automatic, like the old days. Steve threw back his head, laughing at his response. He couldn't remember the last time Steve laughed like that.

Twenty minutes after making himself presentable he was in Shuri's lab, holding his arm up before a scanner. The negative image appeared in the air before them, the machine making harsh beeping noises. Shuri stared at the hologram and with a swipe of her hands turned the image around.

"That should NOT have happened!" She exclaimed. For a half a moment he thought she was scolding him but realized her anger was directed inward. Shuri didn't make mistakes. "I programmed those applications into a sleep mode on purpose. You need intense training before we can activate them. I see now the force of blow you took woke them up and I have no choice but to disable them."

The whole situation annoyed her. He thought of saying something about her youth and how working with a Vibranium arm was a new discipline, but he was smart enough to realize she wouldn't want excuses.

"I'll be honest, that was one lucky shot," he said.

"If there had been casualties, that would be my fault, not yours," she said. So that was what had been bothering her. After tinkering with them for a few minutes with fine instruments she ran the scan again. The hard beeping noises ceased. "It's disabled."

"Thank you," he said.

"Everything else about it works? Comfortable enough?" she asked.

"Fine. There's even sensation," he replied

"Good. You are supposed to feel things," she said. She placed the small instrument down on a table. "Now that you are free to go, I will worry about you," she said, picking up another tiny object and passing it back and forth back and forth between her hands. " I will imagine you out on those dangerous missions. I spent so much time on making you well... only for you to put yourself in danger...this must be the way a doctor feels when her patient insists on ignoring her advice."

"They didn't give me much of a choice..."

"They never do. Now that you and Captain Rogers are friends again and that they have taken the operatives out of action... does this mean you will leave Wakanda?" she asked.

The question surprised him. "I haven't thought so far ahead, but I'm not planning on it."

She smiled for the first time during the meeting. "Good, I'm glad." She turned back to her lab leaving him to ponder her question.

It stayed with him as he walked down the white-tiled halls and up the elevator with the light show and back to Steve's quarters. A large open middle room with a living area and a small kitchen with two bedrooms on either side. Steve was sitting in the living area, reading.

"Get the all clear?" he asked as he looked up.

"All's quiet," Bucky replied, patting his arm. "Nice place you've got here."

"They told me you could stay here all the time if you wanted. You could live like a prince of Wakanda but you stay in that little village..."

"That's where they sent me after they removed the programming. Away from the city, to a quiet place and I ... stayed."

"That's why they like you," Steve said. "I've heard things. Living the simple life gained you respect."

"I thought they liked me because I was Captain America's friend."

"I think it's the other way around," he said. He put his book down and made his way to the small refrigerator in the kitchen, returning with two beers. "So, you want to talk about it?"

"You sound like Sam," Bucky said, taking his seat beside him and accepting a bottle. "But I do." The next thirty minutes was him telling the story. Steve said little, but sat forward in his seat giving him his full intention.

"And the next thing I knew, Natasha was looking at me asking What the hell was that? and there I was just as shocked as everyone else," Bucky ended his story. A short silence followed, broken by laughter.

"I wish I'd seen that…but you got to break the ice with the team. They gave you glowing reviews."

"I was just one small part of the big picture. It's a good story. I might write it down," Bucky said, draining the bottle. The alcohol had no effect, but they still enjoyed going through the motions.

The rest of the evening was quiet, which was ideal. Away from sudden noises and flashing lights and the sounds of running. Sometimes the dreams came after a firefight, sometimes they didn't. Steve made a simple dinner of hot dogs, not quite Coney island but close enough. They talked of the memories they shared and the ones they didn't.

It was late into the night when they finally decided to turn in. Bucky changed and went straight to bed. He slid between the sheets, aware of the sensation of the soft texture against his skin. For a few moments he considered just pulling up stakes and moving up here and living the good life but he dismissed the idea. He needed a purpose, activity and if he lived up here, he might turn into an entitled son of a bitch. Besides, he was growing fond of his neighbors. It was like being back in Brooklyn where everyone knew everyone and they all looked out for each other.

A few minutes later Steve joined him. The bed moved with the extra weight. Bucky started to drift off when he became aware of Steve's touch. His hands moved up and down his metal arm, his fingers like feathers, almost ticklish. It was part of the usual nighttime ritual they had since childhood. Bucky noticed a pleasant scent around Steve.

"You smell good," he murmured.

"Glad you like it," he said. "It's from one of those Wakandan spices, it's called..."

Bucky sat straight up in bed as a realization hit him. "All this, coming up here, it wasn't just about decompression. The talk, the food and now this. This is seduction..."

Steve laughed. "This is romance. And when did I ever have to entice you into bed?" he asked. "It was mostly about decompression, but I admit I had an agenda. Come here," he said, pulling Bucky close. He didn't resist. Something was different.

"And what was this...agenda of yours?"

"I was thinking we could... maybe... try a Paris do-over."

"Do-over? You weren't there." Bucky said, a moment's panic washing over him. The memories of that night resurfaced. He'd go along with whatever Steve wanted but there was this fear it might end the same way it did before, but it was something he didn't completely understand himself.

"That's just it, it wasn't me. but I can imagine what happened. You didn't know then what you know now. This time, we'll do it right. Anything you're not comfortable with, just say so and we'll stop. It's up to you... your choice."

"I love you", Bucky said. Steve's fingers worked their way slowly up his arm, onto his shoulder, to the back of his neck. Bucky was used to Steve's touch but now he was exploring his body in different ways. He liked it. Steve pulled him close and kissed him. They went there. The kiss was delicate, their lips barely touching. A reminder of that other time flashed through his head, of the other Steve, his Steve, how hard he had kissed him, surprising him, giving him little choice.

Steve noticed and pulled away. "Are you ok?" He asked. Bucky closed his eyes and nodded. Steve kissed him again, this time it was real. "Remember, it's up to you. This is your party."

Bucky responded, letting his own hands wander, conscious of the warmth of Steve's skin, the sound of his breathing, the pleasant scent. The kiss became more passionate. Steve's lips on his forehead, his cheek... down his neck. This was different. They broke away, staring into each other's eyes.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked. "This is crossing a line, but things may not go where you want it to go... me being the way I am..."

"I understand... and I don't care."

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