Bucky knew it too, where the interest in Clint had probably come from. But he and Clint had laughed about it once - Tiberius and his stupid swan bed. Barton would probably laugh about the old women too, with their dick-arrow hair and weird obsession. It was better to laugh at it, Bucky guessed. Otherwise it was just silence and brooding. And he'd done that one.
Plus, Petaluna was a fucking stupid name.
Bucky hadn't been thinking in alliances and strategy. He should have been. If he'd been a real mentor, a good one, he would. But Steve didn't want a real mentor, he just wanted a raft to hold onto until the last flood, and a goodbye at the end. He didn't want Bucky to try to think of ways to keep him alive, because there was no way they'd let that happen. Steve and the Maximoff girl - they were the write offs everyone knew for sure weren't going to be allowed to walk out, no matter what. So all of Bucky's tightropes and energy were on a revolution he didn't really have much faith in, and trying to hold that together, and hold himself together until the end. Seeing Natasha, offering an alliance, asking for help again - none of it even crossed his mind. It was just a walk, a reminder of his Games and where they used to be.
"Maybe little more specific," he admitted, shrugging. People knew Clint and Natasha was close. They didn't know what Clint had told Bucky, or how close, Bucky thought. But it was enough for a crazy old bat to be jealous over Barton, he guessed. It made as much sense as the Capitol ever did. He gave her a quizzical look. "Not much to rub in her face?" he said. Since it didn't make much sense. Natasha dying might make her happy, but it meant Clint going in too, and Bucky had the impression she wasn't thrilled about it, supporting him or not.