Watching Barnes fumble with his limp, heavy arm would have been much more entertaining if the guy actually reacted, Tony noted. Gotten flustered, annoyed, anything besides that flat robotic face. It was almost enough to annoy Tony, and he didn't have to shove 20 pounds of metal neural prosthesis into a tiny jacket sleeve. Fortunately, he had several much less petty reasons to be irritated at Barnes.

He watched the soldier leave with casual posture, still touching the mug to his face, but his eyes were sharp. He'd been burned by this guy too many times to not be constantly on his guard. When Rogers spoke, however, he cocked his head at him incredulously.

"Him be careful?" Seriously, Rogers?