Bucky laughed. "Yes," he informed Steve. "But the cow thing isn't because of that. It's just ... it's a joke. Because we live in 8 so I made like I didn't know what a cow looked like to Barton once. I was trying to be funny. It's hard to explain, so just trust me and think it's funny, Ace." Bucky flashed the kind of wide, impish grin he didn't get to very often anymore. "And don't hurt her feelings. 'srude to try to tell her what she is. She's a cow. Right, sweetheart, tell him," he told Moo. On cue, she blinked at him and then squeaked a small meow, as if telling him he was an idiot. Bucky grinned at her. "It's Clint's fault - he BROUGHT her. Because he's an asshole." He turned the grin on Clint, winking.
Bucky took in Steve's frowning face and groaned. "Quit with the face. You remember that fucked up Arena opening for the Maximoff girl and how they had food with ... stuff?" Bucky waggled his eyebrows significantly at Steve, but didn't clarify. "There was a lot of kinds. Stuff I got was just this. It made you ... light. Not drunk, not stupid, not sick or seeing things or anything. Just felt GOOD. Like I could dance again, and none of the bullshit bothers you and everything's just ... the good stuff's easier to feel and the bad stuff isn't. It's nice. Peggy found it for me. I promised her I wouldn't sit around high on it all the time, but once in a while - it's nice. Try it. You could get out of your big lump of a head for once too. Barton already knows we're friends, anyway." Bucky waved the tea at him again. "And then hold Moo. 'cept she squirms. She likes to pick where she sits."
Bucky was evidently going to be bossed around by a one-eyed ball of fluff.