“I’m not-- I’m just staking our claim to be able to walk,” Steve said, as if he hadn’t just been found out. Ah, God, poor Bucky. He could almost see his hackles raised. That couldn’t be healthy. At all. Steve tossed his coffee and took Bucky away from him so he could hold his hand properly. They were in the corner between a potted plant and the Auntie Ann’s pretzel line, one little piece of quiet oasis in the jumble of the holiday.

He waited until Bucky actually looked at him before he smiled, comforting and sincere.

“I’m making a game plan, Buck. Like… a strategic operation. Nat likes those yoga pants from Victoria’s Secret with the words written across the butt. That store is on the third floor. There’s a back escalator that we can take to our left but we have to cut across the catwalk to the next one. And once we’re there, we have to make our way to the very back at the store and just pick up anything you see in an extra small. If it looks like it will fit me, it will fit her. Doesn’t matter the color, but she likes red if they’ve got any left. You with me on this?”