Sam grimaced. "Barnes, it's no fair when you start making arm jokes, because I can't make the arm jokes without sounding like an asshole and then you win by default." He frowned a little though, eyes flickering towards his shoulder. "It causing you any pain?"
Sam noticed the moment, but he didn't comment, just pulled a pen out from the mug that said "Number One Uncle" on it, and rolled it between his fingers, looking thoughtful. "Rogers."
Sam gave Bucky a long, thoughtful look. "Yeah. I'm the guy. I'm also the guy who tells them when you don't need doped up and to lay the hell off." He sighed. "Do you know why I wanted this job, Barnes? Why I'd spend three years going through training to get the chance to get fobbed off by you guys?"
"Hmmm." Sam knew evasion when he heard it. "Yeah. Okay. How much is not much? Enough that you're blacking out, or just where you're staying in bed every once in a while?"