Sunday Dinner
Bucky hoped that Peg wouldn't string him up for being a little late. He only hoped he wasn't a lot late, and deserve to be strung up. He had told Steve that having the phone kept him from needing a watch, which in theory was true, but it hadn't kept him from running over with getting ready.
He wasn't sure why, exactly, but he'd decided on a suit. It was almost like going to Sunday dinners at Steve's house when they were younger. Except then the suit was ill fitting, the one that he wore today fit him perfectly. There were benefits to being a hopeless flirt, he'd pleaded with the Bosslady to fit his suit to him after she'd said she'd do the same for Steve for the wedding yesterday. It wasn't the tux he'd worn yesterday, but he still knew he looked sharp.
Running a hand through his hair he rapped his fingers against the cottage door. Though Peg had said not to bring anything, he had still managed to stop at Sookie's for a platter of sweets. Set to spoil his best friend, and his 'nephew', as much as he could.