"I'll tell you what, princess," Bucky responded without looking at her. "If you get to it first, you're free to put whatever it is down."

As it was, he could scent her clearly. Normally he thought vampires smelled like death. If he was lucky, it was clean death. Not fresh, but peaceful. Most of them smelled like they could never quite clean off all of the kills they made, the tang of turned blood clinging to them. Romanoff, however, had a surprisingly homey scent for someone who looked like her, for a vampire. She did smell clean, and there was no mistaking her for what she was, but it was... soft?

He snorted and rubbed his nose, trying to clear it.

"But since I'm going to be the one finding it, I'm not sure how you think that's going to happen—"

Before Bucky could completely get the words out of his mouth, Fury snarled. It was a very controlled, professional sound, but it still made it clear that he was already sick of their bullshit.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Fury said, glaring at both of them with his one good eye. "I seem to have been under the mistaken assumption I was working with adults in this agency. Am I going to have to get the two of you a babysitter?"