Bucky's smile was wry and a shade bitter. "Yeah well - they'd have to redo the whole look or it'd clash," he said, gesturing right-handed toward his arm. Only the silver hand of which was showing, since he still had a jacket on from when he'd walked in. "Be a lot of gold to put on one guy, and it's heavy enough as it is. Might fall over on them if they weight it up more." He wouldn't put it past them though - redo his arm like an accessory if it came up. Make it a color-scheme point. They decorated it sometimes, for events. But it was expensive to swap out, probably. Bucky guessed it would have to be worth it, and the payoff wasn't usually enough with him. He didn't get them much they didn't already have.
Bucky watched Sam for a minute. "Yeah? Who was the first one?" He thought, taking the too-long time to reply that sometimes happened with him. It wasn't losing time, it was just his sense of it and how long it took him to navigate his own head, sometimes it faltered. It wasn't even that noticeable, just a beat too long to be quite comfortable, now and then. "You're a pretty good guy, Wilson," Bucky said finally. "But you're who says if we're too cracked up to be allowed out without getting doped. I know you don't want to say, but you gotta do your job, so if it comes to it - you are keeping tabs, right?"
Bucky shrugged uneasily, since he knew the shift in conversation when he heard it. "Not much anymore," Bucky said. Which was true. And if he'd probably never have said it if his head was caving in from it regularly - didn't have to say that part.