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Bucky couldn't remember the last time someone had called him James. He'd been Bucky for so long that sometimes even he forgotten it wasn't his real name. His middle name was Buchanan, after James Buchanan, and his family had taken to calling him "Bucky" since before he could walk. He liked the name as a kid, he thought it made him sound much tougher than James, and figured himself for a real Huck Finn at the time so a name like "Bucky" fit him like a glove. It stuck with him though Camp Lehigh, with Steve, and even the Howling Commandos. Hearing his [i]actual[/i] name was a surprise. An unexpectedly pleasant one.

Smiley was well-spoken and carried himself with a grace that often accompanied Englishmen. Bucky had met his fair share during the war and had always been struck by their ability to keep a "stiff upper lip" in even the most dire of times. Smiley seemed cut from the same cloth.

Bucky slid a hand over his head, pulling his cowl back, as he considered Smiley's thanks. "That's... very kind of you."

It had never occurred to him that someone might thank him for his service. His country had called on him to protect her and those that couldn't protect themselves. To not heed that call would have been anathema to Bucky, Steve, and all the other men that had run towards peril instead of away from it. From the sound of it Smiley's father felt likewise.

"I'm not proud of the things I did back then but they were necessary," Bucky muttered. "We made sacrifices and did things we sometimes didn't want to do so that there might come a time when other people weren't forced to do the same. I've not been awake long but from the looks of things there's still a lot of work to be done."