Bucky's been around enough women to be able to take a hint. But laundry is on the lowest of his priorities list, though he has noticed a slight funky smell to them lately. Alright, so maybe she has a point.

Friends...something he hasn't had in over seventy years...it's a strange feeling. Why would she want to be his friend when they hardly know one another? He was once a popular guy, but now he wants to avoid any kind of limelight. He left that person -- those people -- behind long ago.

But still the man on the bridge, the piercing blue eyes...they nag at him daily.

"If we're friends, does that mean curling each other's hair?"