If it was one thing Steve wasn't known for, it was having wild adventures. Well, not on purpose, anyway - they seemed to keep happening to him, but he certainly never went looking for them.

"Well, you've kinda got a mouth on you," Steve responded drily, "he'd certainly appreciate that." He wasn't sure how to explain it to her, but her having Bucky's approval would've meant just as much as getting his mother's. He and Buck had gotten in plenty of fights with each other, they were both too stubborn not to butt heads regularly; but when push came to shove, he knew Bucky was just trying to look out for him. "And it's like you know me, or somethin'." He gave a lopsided, devilish smile. "I was the one who convinced him that rum-running would be the best way to earn some dough. Actually, I had to convince him of that, and then convince him that I could handle being the spotter, and distraction from the G-men if they came sniffin' around."

Steve hadn't yet realized that thinking back to those days and recounting them for her, his accent had thickened, and he'd started using slang he was most familiar with. He'd been raised to be polite and speak properly, but around Bucky and the other boys, he'd been able to shoot the breeze in the common shorthand and code words of the lower class.