Bucky smiled at her, setting the knife down and reaching for a dish towel to wipe his hands before extending the right one to her. "I'm Bucky. And, yeah. Survival instinct, mostly. I had a friend who was sick a lot, and since it was the 1930s, well... I know my way around this very kind of kitchen."
He glanced at the stove. "I've got the start of some beef stew going, if you'd like some. It should just be a few minutes until I can get a decent bowl together." He glanced at the dog, lips tugging into a smile. "And there's extra beef if Vlad wants something."
Of course, the stew needed a few hours to really soften and let all the juices and flavors mix, but there was nothing wrong with some beef and vegetable soup to start off.