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BUCKY BARNES

"So, why didn't you tell me?" Stark asked when everyone was gone.

"When was I meant to tell you, Mr. I-like-holing-myself-in-a-lab?" I replied, not paying attention.

"At dinner? I'm there at dinner- most of the time." 

"Hmm, maybe it will be a good idea to see how the atmosphere is at your 'team-bonding dinner', it would, after all, do me good to know how it is. But then, they won't be, well, my presence there would mean that tension will fill the atmosphere," I hummed.

Stark looked horrified: "You haven't been to dinner, even once?" 

I rolled my eyes, "You're second to the last statement was, and I quote, 'At dinner? I'm always there at dinner- most of the time. So that means you are rarely at the dinner table yourself."

"Stop using my words against me,"  Stark huffed.

"Well, Stark, the answer to your question is that I was scared. I am scared. I'm what? 23 years old biologically. A year older than you. I hate this emotional talk. I killed your parents. To you, I am your parents' murderer. I don't think you would have been too happy to know." (Tony's 22 years old in my fanfic. My fanfic, my rules.)

"Wait a moment, you're 23?"

"Yes." I huffed, rolling my eyes. I went back to humming my favourite tune.

" Oh my freakin' god," Stark mumbled to himself. Then he looked at me.

"What?"

"Ain't gonna give me a 'language' lecture?"

"For freakin'? For sure as hell no. And I think you have it wrong, Stark. The '40s loved swearing." I leaned back a little, "So I don't know what you mean by giving you the 'language lecture'. I don't even know which damn lecture you're talking about."

 "It's just Steve was really angry and all-"

I burst out laughing, "Steve has a mouth worse than a sailor,"

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