Chapter Text
Bucky sits opposite Steve at a table for three in the corner of a bustling coffee shop and lets himself feel a little proud of his progress. Sure, he can't stop checking the exits and Steve ordered his drink for him because Bucky started feeling overwhelmed by the choice, but hey. He's out of the Tower. He hasn't had a panic attack for a week, and Steve's been going on about this place's lattes for a lot longer than that.
He even finds himself smiling at Steve when the blond lowers his cup and has a dab of foam at the corners of his mouth. Steve smiles back, oblivious, and Bucky touches his own top lip as a hint. With his flesh hand, because while he trusts Tony not to screw up the cham-sleeve that covers his metal one, it's October and he's enjoying the lingering warmth of the coffee. Steve's looking down into his napkin, so Bucky sees... her first.
"Hey, fellas."
For a long, horrible moment, Bucky thinks that he's having a flashback that's gone wrong. That his mind has come untethered to bring him the vision of a Howling Commando in a dress and striped tights. He blinks and looks back at Steve, whose smile has something strange in it as he watches Bucky.
"Hey, Rabbit. Would you like to sit down?"
Bucky only jumps a little when Rabbit pulls out the empty chair and creaks down into it. He (She?) reaches for the menu with those familiar slightly-jerky movements, and Steve laughs like he's just heard a great joke. Rabbit smiles too, and Christ. He can't be hallucinating that vividly. It's the same smile, and like it always has it pulls one from Bucky in answer.
"Any opinions on the water they have here?" Rabbit's addressing Bucky - and later he'll figure out why Steve isn't surprised, the scheming jerk - so Bucky forces words from somewhere in him.
"I'd recommend it. They don't overcook it here." An old joke. Older than most of the people in the room.
Steve and Rabbit seem happy enough to carry most of the conversation, so Bucky just looks at the 'bot's faceplate and lets some memories happen to him.