James Barnes had once been called a ‘bionic staring machine’ by Sam Wilson — and never in his life had he believed that statement to be true as much as right now. The vibranium arm so kindly provided by the Wakandians had been acting up for the past few weeks, and with Tony away on a mission, there was little left for him to do.

Fortunately enough, Stark had mentioned something about a really bright mechanic living in southern Manhattan. Although Bucky was highly reluctant about both taking advice from Tony Stark and letting a complete stranger get within a three-meter range from him, he would only be able to live without a second arm for so long.

And against anything he could have believed to be true, the mechanic ended up being a far cry from all the terrible scenarios his head had come up with. You were quick with your words, finding an easy retort to any borderline flirtatious comment he threw your way. You were patient — and despite being the one in charge of fixing the physical representation of his machine-wired body — you had never even thought of treating him as any less than human.

On the days that followed your first encounter, the change in the super soldier’s mood was noticeable. You had suggested for him to visit you every three days to make sure the adjustments you had made were working properly, and Bucky could never complain.

Over your desk lay a few half-burnt wires, and the screen of your computer flashed with blue numbers. Yet another failed experiment. Your frustration was soon cut off by a knock on your door. Bucky’s head peeked through the door — he was dressed in his leather jacket, wearing those black gloves he was so adamant on having whenever he went out. “Hope you’re not too busy for you best client.”