While he might have been passive or appearing so, he watched her like a hawk, his brown eyes keen and hungry for her reactions even if his expression showed nothing. She was so pure and honest, giving him what he wanted to see, showing him the bits and pieces that he knew made up her person and the steel spine that would allow her to direct him as Hydra never could. Compassion was for her to worry about; he had left compassion behind when he had began his bloody trail through history. He recognized that she could temper his sharpness or set him to her enemies with a single command. A thrill ran through him at the sheer thought, so the real thing would no doubt be much, much better.

"Few would have seen the layers of the messaging in it, but you have always been smart to that sort of thing," he said softly as he stepped away from the plane to bring himself closer to her. He put himself in the open as a sign that he wouldn't hurt her, though he still could if he wanted to. "Hydra is without its fist, and the heads of the beasts are being reduced faster than they an regenerate. Think of a world free of that ideology."

He stepped closer bit by bit until they were within striking distance with fists. He took another larger step forward, staring at her eye-to-eye. "Who is Bucky to you?"