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Steve had spent the drive to the airport in seething silence, ignoring both the questioning glances from Bucky in the back seat and Sam's commentary from the passenger side.
He got out of the car, slamming the door hard enough to make the metal protest, and opened the trunk up to retrieve his suit.
"I am just saying," Sam said, getting out and shutting the door behind him before Bucky could move, "that if you are trying to take the high, dramatic road, it doesn't work when you grind the gears of your busted-up Volkswagen Beetle as you drive off."
"I wasn't being dramatic," Steve said.
"Right," came Bucky's dry response as he unfolded himself from the car. "Because Steve never does that."
Steve huffed out an irritated breath. "When's your guy arriving?" he asked Sam, glancing down at the "A" sewn into his uniform sleeve and swallowing around a lump in his throat. He wasn't breaking up the team. He was prioritizing his people.
( Plotting in the airport parking lot. As you do. )
( And everyone gets banged together like action figures )
He got out of the car, slamming the door hard enough to make the metal protest, and opened the trunk up to retrieve his suit.
"I am just saying," Sam said, getting out and shutting the door behind him before Bucky could move, "that if you are trying to take the high, dramatic road, it doesn't work when you grind the gears of your busted-up Volkswagen Beetle as you drive off."
"I wasn't being dramatic," Steve said.
"Right," came Bucky's dry response as he unfolded himself from the car. "Because Steve never does that."
Steve huffed out an irritated breath. "When's your guy arriving?" he asked Sam, glancing down at the "A" sewn into his uniform sleeve and swallowing around a lump in his throat. He wasn't breaking up the team. He was prioritizing his people.
( Plotting in the airport parking lot. As you do. )
( And everyone gets banged together like action figures )
