Eliot and Bucky were locked in silence. An intense staring contest between the two men was broken only by the excited conversation between Alec and Sam as they discussed Sam’s precious Red Wing. “Hardison, what exactly am I here for again?” Eliot ground out. “Just, like, arm wrestle, or reminisce about assassinations you were a part of or whatever you do!” Alec waved off, continuing to examine Red Wing with Sam. Bucky and Eliot huff/growled in unison, and then shot suspicious glances at each other. “So,” Bucky said. “So,” Eliot replied. “Nice hair,” Bucky commented reluctantly. “Nice arm,” Eliot said, gesturing at the seamless metal-left arm that was attached to Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky shook out the arm in question and showed Eliot how he could turn it into a huge gun. Eliot grimaced, “I don’t like guns.” A little put off, Bucky leaned away and returned his arm to its normal state. He pulled an Ruger out of his pocket and casually shot at the ground an inch from where Red Wing was lying. Sam yelped and jumped away quickly. “Watch it!” Alec yelled. Eliot let out a barking laugh and reached for the gun. He shot right in between Alec’s boots and grinned mischievously. Bucky raised an eyebrow surprised. “I said I don’t like guns, I never said I couldn’t use them,” Eliot grinned, flipping the Ruger around his finger.