Steve and Bucky have gone to the library to check out some books, and they've found some that they remember from childhood.
"I remember reading these to my little sisters," Bucky says, picking up a set of Beatrix Potter stories.
"I think you read a few of them to me when I was laid up, Buck. Remember Samuel Whiskers?" Steve asks.
"Is that one about an enormous rat?"
"I want to read that one next then," Bucky says.
"Okay! So, where were we. 'The knife crumpled up and hurt him...'"
"You can't work with inferior tools," Bucky mutters.
"They're in a doll's house, Buck, everything is fake," Steve reminds him.
"Yeah, I get it," Bucky says. "I sure am glad it's not like that for us -- if all our food was fake and everything was just a game ..."
Steve pats Bucky on the leg. "Feels real to me," he says.
"You're only as real as you feel you are," Bucky says, and laughs. "When I was a weapon, I couldn't do this--"
Bucky turns to Steve and takes a kiss, and luxuriates in the feel of Steve's warm lips kissing him back.
"You're nobody's plaything, Bucky," Steve says.
"Maybe yours," Bucky says, with a grin.
"If you want," Steve smiles.
They scoot closer together on the couch and go back to reading. They have all the time in the world.