dear_mun | bb!Bucky feels his mun isn't paying enough attention to him. He might be right.

Hey! Mun! Yoo hoo! Over here. Yeah, see me? Come on, I know you see me. How about a litle love, huh? Whats a fella gotta do to get a little attention? You go around claiming I'm your favorite character yet you throw me over for brooding future me? Come on, is it the arm? It is, isn't it.

Well, seeing as how you can give so much love and attention to Mr. Broody McBroody pants, why don't you toss a little my way, huh? Find me a Steve! Or heck, any of the other Invaders for that matter.

Just between you, me and the post, I think I'm so desperate, I'd even take a Subbie right about now. So you know that's desperate. They have these really neat things called 'games' these days. Why don't you find me one of those. Or heck, even toss me on Bakersteet. Something.

You're kinda icing me out, mundane and that hurts me. It really does, right here, see? [Holds a hand over his chest.] So be a doll and throw some attention my way too. I promise you won't regret it. I grow on ya. Kinda like a fungus.

'Sides, you're a sharp kinda dame, I think once you realize how much more fun it is to play me over Mr. Broody, you'll get right with the program.

Love ya!

-James Buchanan Barnes.

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Good lord you're adorable.

Aw, shucks, that's just what a fella wants to hear from a pretty lady. Adorable is the kiss of death. [And Bucky, being the shameless flirt that he was just grinned at Mia playfully.]

Smooth, too. I highly approve of this old-timey flirting, it's too bad this sort of thing goes out of style by the modern era.

Although Lady Blackhawk has a few things to say about some of the less polite dudes of your time. [You get to hear the funnest things when time-displaced WWII ladypilots get drunk and crash on your surrogate father-figure's wife's couch. Wayyyy better than history class.]

Do they really? That's just a cryin' shame if you ask me. [No one was asking you, Bucky.]

They were prolly Nazis if that were the case. You can't trust the Krauts. Not to say some of us American boys can't be rough around the edges but that kinda comes with the territory when you run off to war to protect your sweetheart and country.

[A wild pilot in a miniskirt appears! And immediately goes into War Story Mode.]
Try bein' the sweetheart protectin' the country herself, sugar.
Now, mind you, the Blackhawks weren't exactly part of any country's official military- which is, of course, the only reason I got to fly with them in the first place. But I did fly with 'em, and I assure you, that's an honor only the best of the best pilots could ever lay claim to.

Most of the Allied fellas got the impression I was just a glorified pinup girl. There were recruitment posters that turned into nose art an'.... well I'm sure you're more'n familiar with the sorta things that get passed around an plastered to barracks walls. That's how they knew me, before any of 'em actually saw me fly.

The good ones- and there were a whole lot of them, I assure you- once they know the real story, they were great. Real gentlemen.

But there were some real hard heads, too. Women had no place on the war front, no place flyin' in combat- nevermind the Russians had a whole damn regiment of ladies with enough guts an' skill t'have the Germans shittin' themselves in fear, but that's another [Mun's note: totally true! The Night Witches were BAD ASS!] story entirely.

Anyway, in one day on the ground with the fellas, I could find myself dealin' with anything up to an' includin' a couple marriage proposals, a few poorly-thought-out attempts at groping, a handful of "concerned gentlemen" tellin' me I'd be best servin' the effort on the homefront, to the, thankfully rare experience of the occasional lout who thought I'd best be put in my place in entirely ungentlemanly manners.

None of 'em were anything I couldn't handle, of course. But I can assure you an' the little archer girl, you seem like the cream of the crop.

[Zinda pops open a couple bottles of beer, offers one to Bucky.] So, cheers to that. [And to Mia's inevitable noise of objection to not getting one-] Sorry, kiddo. Dinah'd kill me.

Edited 2012-09-24 16:19 (UTC)

[Slow blink. This dame sure did talk a lot. Which when you consider Bucky was one hell of a chatterbox and when he and Toro got on a tear they could drive the other Invaders up a wall that was saying a lot.] I get what yer sayin' but not all of the guys were like that. You shoulda seen the Invaders or the All Winner's Squad, we'd have proved they weren't all boneheaded idiots.

[Okay so he wasn't twenty-one but the legal drinking age was eighteen over in Europe right? So of course he wasn't going to turn down a beer.] Thank you, ma'am.

[Old enough to serve, old enough to drink, in Zinda's books! And it's so rare she gets to talk to someone from her days, even if it's all crossover-y]

That's my point, kiddo, you're clearly an example of the best of the best. [And now she's all wistful] Like the boys I flew with. Reckon you'd like them.

[A smirk, and she points to Mia] You're just the type'a fella I'd pick for her- unfortunately, they're in short supply these days. [Sad headshake]

Edited 2012-09-24 17:26 (UTC)

[No, no, weird drunk friend of surrogate-mom-type-figure, no playing Yenta to young Arrows!]

Oh, there are so many reasons that is a bad idea.

[Behind the domino mask he was wearing, dark eyes crept upwards.] The name's James Buchanan Barnes, not kiddo. Though most people call me Bucky.

[Full of a young man's pride as well as piss and vinegar, James couldn't stand being reminded he was a kid. Sure, he might have only been twenty years old but he'd been at war for four years and training to be a killer for longer than that! He wasn't a kid by any standards beyond that of biological.]

I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure ladies these days prefer to choose their own fellas. [Don't worry, Mia, Bucky has your back! And doesn't want to face any kind of Yenta-type matchmaking himself.]

My apologies, Bucky. Reckon I'm actually only a couple years older'n you, far as birthdates go. [Muttering, she adds,] Time travel never gets less headache inducin'.

An' I wasn't tryin' t'push anything, just makin' the observation you'd be a catch, is all.

I know better than to ask a dame her age. [This was said with a cheeky little smirk.] Though I'll grant ya time travel is confusing and a general pain in the butt.

No offense taken, ma'am. Just sayin' is all. [And of Bucky's thoughts happened to travel briefly back to Gretchen, could you blame him? He still held a torch for the German Resistance fighter.]

Y'know, I could argue "dame" is about as endearin' as "kiddo," but I've certainly been called worse. [Smirk] Just... not "ma'am", please. I ain't your CO, and any other use of that just makes me feel as old as I oughta be.

Zinda's fine. Lady Blackhawk when I'm in the sky.

And I've been called a heck of a lot worse than 'kiddo' so I guess we're even. [That smirk stretched into an outright grin.] My mama taught me how to address a lady properly. [And he'd never had a female commanding officer, Bucky wondered what that would be like. Sure, there had been Cindy but she hadn't really counted.]

Zinda? That's a helluva name.

bb!Bucky feels his mun isn't paying enough attention to him. He might be right.

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Is it still threadjacking when I'm doing it to myself? Apologies for ramblyness.

<3! It's all cool

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