It was slow going as he tried to piece together what was left of his life. Steve Rogers was no longer the only soldier out of time. But unlike Steve, Bucky had been woken from time to time when his skills were required. Until he had started training Natasha, life had been a strict routine. But the stolen moments with the red head, it was a way to grasp at being normal.
As she spoke about his rifle, he glanced at it. "They're far different than the ones we had in the second World War." He glanced down and his eyes drifted to his jacket sleeve. A few days ago he had found a wing patch and with some manipulation had managed to get it to look like the Howling Commando patch he had worn so long ago. "If you ever want, I can teach you how to use a variety of firearms." Seeing Viktoria blush, he smiled more, liking how it looked on her. It suited her very well if he had any say in it.
Taking the offered glass of vodka, he smiled some, his own face tinged red with her compliments. "There's hundreds or more ways to see things," he returned. "No one way is right."