Bucky was doing better. Not one hundred percent, and maybe not coping in the most ideal way, but what was ideal, after all? He was coping, and Steve wasn't his therapist. He technically wasn't even required to be his friend - but that didn't mean he wasn't. The longer Steve spent around Bucky, the more he wanted to be his friend, to do what he could to support him through all of this, past simply doing his job as bodyguard and security. And he couldn't say that he wasn't pleased with Bucky's progress, because even without the perfect coping mechanism, he had come a long, long way.

And he was excited, today - he'd wanted to meet Tony Stark for a long time, and even though Steve and Tony were't exactly best friends, they were friends of a sort, and Steve had been happy to pull whatever strings he could to get Tony out here for a meeting. Tony was, after all, always glad to meet admirers, and when Steve had explained who it was that wanted to meet him… it had clinched the deal. So Tony had set aside the weekend (mostly) and flown out (via private jet, although Steve didn't doubt there was Iron Man armor somewhere close by) to meet them for lunch. In fact, Tony had gotten them reservations at a nice little lunch bistro in DC for this meeting, and even agreed to keep it on the down low from the press - although how likely it was that they wouldn't find out was anybody's guess. Steve had pulled on an old Dodgers cap and was wearing street clothes, although he figured if any one of them was going to draw attention, it would be Bucky Barnes or Tony Stark - not Steve Rogers.

"Great," he grinned, when Bucky emerged from his room. Steve led the way to the garage. "We're right on time."