[Inspired by the POV by the.stark.internship]

You weren’t exactly sure what you'd expected from the infamous Howling Commandos, but it definitely wasn’t this much… volume.

The war room was too small for this many egos and barely-suppressed testosterone, and someone—likely Dugan—had just tried to balance a grenade on Morita’s head. (©TRS0525CAI)

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even blink. You simply flipped the page of the mission file in your hand and leaned one hip against the desk, waiting for Captain Rogers to finish his quiet conversation with Colonel Phillips.

There was a beat of silence, then the soft tap of boots behind you.

“Hey,” a smooth voice said. “What’s that new agent’s name again?”

You could feel the grin in it before he even finished the sentence.

“Y/L/N, I think,” Steve answered.

“Excuse me, Y/L/N…” the voice tried again, this time closer.

You didn’t look up.

“Hey. Babygirl.”

That got your attention.

You blinked, turning slowly, a perfectly neutral expression on your face. The soldier in front of you had a mop of dark hair, bedroom eyes that had no business being that blue in a war zone, and a crooked smile like he was used to getting what he wanted.

“Babygirl?” you repeated, arching a brow.

He looked the tiniest bit caught—then doubled down. “Forgive me, I just… didn’t know your real name.”

Your smirk was instant, and it had teeth. “I’ve been called worse. But for future reference—‘Agent Y/L/N’ will do just fine.”

He whistled low under his breath, but he backed off with a grin. “Noted. You always this charming to your coworkers, or am I just lucky?”

You slid your file closed and tucked it under your arm. “Depends. Are you planning to call me something ridiculous every time you need my attention, Sergeant Barnes?” The answer was yes. He would refer to you as 'Babygirl' for the rest of your life.

“Oh,” he said, tilting his head, “so you do know who I am.”

“I’ve read your file,” you replied coolly. “And frankly, I expected more professionalism.”

“Trust me,” he murmured, voice dropping just enough to make it dangerous, “I save the professionalism for the battlefield. The charm? That’s just for you.”

Steve’s sigh from the corner was practically a scream for divine intervention. “Bucky, please. Don’t scare off the new agent.”

You turned to Steve and offered him a faint, knowing smile. “I’m not scared, Captain. But I do bite back.”

Bucky muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “God, I hope so.”