Work Text:
Novgorod, 1944
It was all Steve's fault, of course.
They’d ended up in Russia doing things that would never make the newsreels back home, in viciously cold weather and often in the small hours of the morning, and what they all really wanted was to go somewhere warm and dry and sleep for a week.
But apparently a group of Russian officers had been all eager to show the “crazy Americans” how Russians celebrated a victory, and the Commandos’ handler had thought a little international diplomacy was a good idea, so here they were in what was left of a bar with a half-dozen Russians and a dozen beers.
Too bad the only Russian who spoke English had gotten the runs that afternoon.
Their handler had thrown a tattered Russian-English phrasebook at them half an hour before they left, and Bucky had actually read the thing, but otherwise--well, beer was a universal language, right?
Still, both sides seemed to think that some attempt at social niceties was in order.
The Commandos stared at the Russians. The Russians stared at the Commandos.
"Good evening," said one of the Russians, carefully. “I am Mikhail.” He seemed to be the ringleader, but it was hard to tell because they all looked so very young.
Steve opened his mouth. Bucky elbowed him. "I'm the one who's actually read that phrasebook, I can--"
"I got this," said Steve, and then, "я машина."
The Russians stared at Steve. The Commandos stared at the Russians.
Bucky dropped his head onto the table. Why did this sort of thing keep happening? Steve was actually good with languages. The problem was that he knew it, and tended to rush on ahead of his actual skill level, which was how he had managed to insult that pretty French nurse (who was fortunately used to clueless British and American soldiers by that point).
The Russians realized that Steve had, in fact, said what they thought he had said, and burst out laughing.
“What,” said Steve.
"Steve," said Bucky, "you said 'I am the machine.'"
"Machine!" said Mikhail. "Good evening, Machine!" He turned to the other Russians and shouted something, raising his beer.
"I think they're toasting you," said Bucky.
“Oh. Okay. This counts as diplomacy, right?”
Beer was in fact a universal language. So was arm wrestling; Falsworth was seconds from losing spectacularly to a wiry little man, Jones had found a Russian who spoke German and was deep in conversation, Morita and Dernier had managed to set something on fire, and Dugan was--
“You seen Dugan anywhere, Buck?”
“He went outside. To wrestle. In the snow. Left me in charge of his shirt, too.”
Mikhail returned from the bar with two glasses of what was probably vodka and slapped one down in front of Steve. "Drink, Machine?" he said. The other Russians left at the table sat up, suddenly interested.
"Steve, they want to drink us under the table," said Bucky.
"Do they, now."
"They probably think you're a clueless American lightweight."
"Be a shame to leave them wallowing in their ignorance," said Steve, and drained the glass, only wincing a little.
It wasn’t that Steve was drunk, exactly, but he had had a hell of a lot of very strong drink in the past several hours and it was an excuse to act sillier than he had in a long time, and so when Dugan (now fully clothed) burst out with “Beer Barrel Polka” as they all dragged themselves off to bed, he threw an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and started singing.
“Why,” said Bucky, who was definitely drunk, but was far too tired for all of this.
“We’ve got the blues on the run…”
"What would Carter say if she could see you right now?"
"She'd'a been egging me on, and you know it."
"What'd I do to get stuck with the pair of you, anyway?"
"Love you too, Bucky."
Moscow, 2016
Officially, it had been called “a demonstration of support for cooperation in the international intelligence community;” unofficially, as Tony had put it, he was there “to do the Mr. Rogers Is Disappointed In You face, and also to talk smack about HYDRA.” Bucky had volunteered to come too, on the grounds that the international intelligence nerds might need to talk to him, although really because Steve had started learning Russian (he was sick of Bucky and Natasha trolling him) and was liable to start an international incident.
As it turned out, Steve had found out there was an exhibit of contemporary Russian animators at the Moscow Museum of Modern Art and had been mentioning it very casually since the plane landed, in the tone of voice that meant he really really wanted to go but he also didn’t want to bother anyone, but they’d had a free afternoon and Bucky had promised to keep him out of trouble. Steve had spent the afternoon “getting his art nerd on” and Bucky had followed him around, people-watching and occasionally apologizing to the docents for Steve’s horrible Russian.
They’d wandered the grounds looking at the sculpture and were about to get back in the car when they noticed an elderly man hesitantly starting to cross the street to the museum. Bucky greeted him in Russian and offered him his arm, giving Steve a pointed look as if to say see, this is how it’s done, pay attention --
And Steve held the door for him, and fine, that bit of Russian was actually not too bad--
"MACHINE?" said the elderly man, visibly startled.
"What," said Steve.
Bucky blinked--the memory came like a slap to the face--sat down hard, and laughed until he nearly cried.
"What," said Steve again. The elderly man had been talking nonstop and was now starting to wave his arms excitedly.
"Steve," Bucky managed, when he could breathe again, "remember those Russian kids in Novgorod?"
The others found out, of course. They never figured out how, but it had probably been Natasha’s Russian gossip network or Tony’s Avengers news alert--they had shown up on somebody’s Instagram, captioned <my grandfather’s old friends, Yasha and The Machine!>
(in the picture, Mikhail is gesturing wildly to a rapt audience in a tiny, crowded bar, Steve looks both happy and embarrassed, Bucky is translating for Steve, and there are a startling number of glasses on the counter)
--and when they got back to the Tower, it was to find the rest of the Avengers waiting for them, sporting identical flat stares.
“So. We hear you are The Machine.”
(Clint knows a guy who does custom t-shirts. Steve’s says “If found, return to Bucky” in English and Russian. Bucky’s says “I’m with The Machine.”)