Hey there everybody! It's been a very long time since I last updated this story, but I was really surprised today when I checked in on it and found it with so many followers? What a lovely surprise tbh, not something I was expecting. This story got set aside as I took a break from writing for Marvel movies, stepped into Supernatural, fell out of that, went back and rewrote my first fanfic ever for The Santa Clause, and only just now am I turning an eye back on my old works. Is anybody still interested in this fic? I know that the MCU has changed a LOT since I was writing this story, I'm really not sure if people are even still into the old "Avengers Tower AU" trope that was popular back when I started Little Talks. This is not a hard story for me to get back into if you guys are interested, as the chapters aren't exceptionally long, so I'd be willing to bring it back. I know after Infinity War part 1 a little comfort fiction can be nice, maybe bringing the story up to date with the movies would be worthwhile? Definitely let me know what you think! PM's or comments or whatever you like. My tumblr handle is the same as my username here if you'd like to reach out that way.

In the meantime, here's a little snippet from a future chapter to possibly pique your interest? Enjoy.

The last time Jamie had worn anything of Steve's was also a memorable event.

It was during their European tour that a particularly nasty, wet day in Transylvania –the roads in and out of camp were reduced to mud, and the jeeps had been stuck numerous times on the way in which made dinner three hours late. Bucky had spent the day leading practice drills for the rest of the Commandos, while Steve was indoors planning strategy with Peggy and the rest of the intelligence panel.

It had been a terrible experience. While Steve had been warm and dry in command central, Bucky had been out in the rain with the others for eight hours, drilling on new techniques she'd come up with and had approved by the General. They'd been on the move so often that they hadn't had time to put the new moves into practice, and their next target would require the tactics…so they'd had no choice.

It was freezing, the rain was actually painful the droplets were so large—in fact, most of the time it couldn't even be called droplets; more like sheets of water. Given the variety of the surrounding countryside, they moved over almost every kind of terrain imaginable, barring sand and ice. Jamie lost her second best compass that day, and had cut a slice through her left boot on a particularly sharp bit of shale that allowed plenty of water and who knew what else in.

Not that she'd complained, of course. She was Sergeant Jamie Barnes; and this was the special reserve division of the US Army. Besides, the other Commandos respected her, and not just out of obligation or because she was Steve's best friend—they respected her due to her talent and apt leadership, under the Captain. She was a damn good soldier, thank you very much, and soldiers shouldn't whine about shitty weather—or at least that was her opinion.

The others whined a great deal about it, and Jamie just grinned at their ridiculous complaints—that is, she would have if the drilling rain hadn't been obstructing her view of them, and forcing her eyes to slits from an overload of water and falling debris. They were in the woods at the moment, and the trees were shedding needles.

Of course, Steve hadn't known this. He would have thrown a fit if he had known she was out in the storm, demanding that she let Dugan run the drill instead. But Bucky was stubborn and wanted to be there for the team, so she'd steered away from Steve all day to keep her plans under wraps. She'd even enlisted Peggy's help—but only to change the subject if Steve brought her whereabouts or absence up.

By bedtime, Steve was genuinely concerned. He'd looked for Bucky at dinner but hadn't seen her, so he'd gone back to his room to review some of the plans they'd plotted out for their next mission. Finally, at around nine thirty, Jamie had stumbled into Steve's room with her duffel in hand— and covered, from head to toe, in thick black mud. She was, that is. The duffel was spotlessly clean, except for the handle where she was touching it.

Steve had stared at her, standing in the doorway, for a good five seconds with disbelief. "Buck? What the hell?" he asked.

"Training went long…" Jamie had muttered, spitting out a little mud. "The running water's down in the bunker again and I didn't want to shower with the guys outside."

Steve put on his serious face. "This is where you were today? This is why nobody would talk about you…you were off training in this weather?"

Jamie looked hesitant, and finally up at Steve with tired, yet equally sarcastic deep blue eyes. "That's what it looks like doesn't it?" she replied, too tired to sass properly. A large clump of pine needles and mud slipped off her hair and onto the floor with an indelicate squashing noise.

After a moment, Steve actually began laughing. She looked so comically miserable, he couldn't help himself—even despite her impatient eyeroll and irritated grimace.

"Ha HA. I supposed you want me to say 'you were right'?"

"That would make sense, at this point. Do you always have to prove you're 'one of the boys'?"

"Bite me."

"I would, but you're filthy," Steve replied, stifling his laughter. "Come on, Bucky. You can use my shower—I've got hot water."

Steve had taken her clothes to be washed, and had returned to find a clean Jamie sitting on his bed in a t-shirt and some slacks, dog tags slung around her neck as she combed through her hair with her fingers. It took him a good minute to realize it was one of his old, pre-serum shirts.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked, confused.

Jamie had looked up. "What?"

"The shirt. Where'd you get it."

"Oh." Jamie reddened slightly, a sheepish smile on her lips. "Ah well, you know. I may have filched it outta your dresser, before I shipped out."

Steve smiled softly. "Something to remember me by?"

Jamie frowned, as if saddened by the thought. "I'd never forget you, Steve." She cleared her throat after a long moment, rubbing at the back of her neck. Then she rolled her eyes and flashed an easy grin, snatching a hairbrush out of her duffel. "But ah, yeah. Something like that."