Well. She wasn’t wrong. A short, surprised laugh at the frankness of it slipped out after the remark, and Bucky dismissed the sudden outburst with a quick shake of his head, amusement clear on his face. Technically he didn’t drown, so that was at least one good thing to take away.

Taking in her words, the soldier nodded idly. Were there stronger imperative for him to truly remove his clothes, say a lack of experience in having been drenched before in his childhood and having survived under far cooler temperatures with a significantly less fit body, he would have thought on the idea more thoroughly. But here, now, his clothing, even wet, held enough of his body heat that stripping would likely only force his temperature to drop more quickly. That and nothing could quite prepare anyone for the metal bound to his flesh.

Smiling politely, he started draping a blanket across his shoulders. “Think I’ll be okay at this point. A lot warmer in here already. With decent company to pass the time with.” His eyes caught hers in a brief glance, and he offered a more genuine smile, surely grateful for her help. “Where are my manners though? Name’s James. Or Bucky, if you’d prefer.”