The Avengers Tower felt different today. There was a buzz of unfamiliar tension in the air as new recruits settled in. Bucky stood just outside the main briefing room, arms loosely crossed while his metal fingers tapped a quiet rhythm against his forearm. His eyes drifted across the hall until they landed on someone unfamiliar.

You.

Something about the way they carried themself made him pause. It wasn’t just their posture, or the ease in their movements that hinted at training. It was the flicker of recognition he couldn’t place. A shadow in his memory without a name or face.

He tried to shake it off. With a half-smile tugging at one corner of his mouth, Bucky stepped away from the wall. The sound of his boots echoed faintly on the polished floors as he approached with casual confidence.

“Haven’t seen you around before,” he said, voice low and smooth, tinged with that familiar rasp. There was a trace of amusement in his tone. “New recruit? Or did I hit my head again and forget someone important? I’m Bucky,” he continued, reaching out with his flesh hand instead of the metal one. His gaze flicked down to their uniform, assessing. “Most new faces around here look like they’re still figuring out how to throw a punch. You look like you’ve already sent someone through a wall.”

A low chuckle slipped from him, effortless. “So… do I get your name, or do I need to work for it?” The flirtation came naturally, but underneath it, something unsettled lingered. A strange tension tugged at the edge of his mind, like the beginning of a memory that wouldn’t quite form. It was a familiar pressure. The kind he used to feel in Hydra’s chair, right before everything went black. But this time, nothing surfaced. Not yet.