Couldn't Get to You.

Giving a slow nod, James generally interlinked his fingers with hers. It was a moment of sincerity, out of character for the guise they had agreed on. Clara had no reason to trust him, and he was all too aware of that... But he owed her so much, and it was a honour to know he had gained her trust. "Let's get going then..."

Clara nodded, letting out a breath that she hadn't been aware she was holding in. "Alright, I'm not positive where the best places to shop are in Brooklyn, so I hope you're up for some exploring." She told him as she started down the sidewalk, her fingers still interlinked with his.

"I'm sure we'll be able to find somewhere..." He mused, following her down the sidewalk. It was weird to know that Brooklyn was supposed to be home, but none of it actually felt familiar to him. Granted, it would have changed significantly from the place it was back in the 1940's... But it felt increasingly more frustrating. He had come to New York in search of answers, but it seemed he wasn't the only thing wiped clean of his former life. The city had grown, and changed. Even if he still had some idea who he was, he doubted the city would provide any more information.

Clara nodded. "It just might take a little while longer. It's not like we're in Times Square." She didn't mind it though, she was always up for a challenge, and maybe finding a shop somewhere here in Brooklyn would be the challenge of the day. "Worst comes to worst, we're bound to come across a thrift store or two. We can find something for you there just as easily."

"We could get a taxi..." He suggested, looking down at Clara. It was a slightly uncertain suggestion, considering the fact Clara was going to be the one who had to pay for it all. She was already paying for a lot, including a new 'look' for him... and James didn't want to make her feel like she had to spend anymore money on him than was necessary. "To Times Square, I mean... If it's easier..."

"Are you saying that you don't want to wander around Brooklyn with me, Bucky?" Clara asked, punctuating her words with a raised eyebrow. "I thought that this would be fun for us, but I suppose that only one of us sees it that way." She was obviously only joking. Maybe taking a taxi to Times Square would make things a bit easier. It would be a lot more crowded there than it was here though, and it wasn't like the streets were deserted here either. She just didn't know how he would handle it, that was all.

Truth be told, James probably wouldn't be able to deal with Times Square so easily. Despite sometimes working in a team, he had become an entirely solitary creature. Hydra had kept him isolated, preventing him from making connections that would only provide a distraction to him. He didn't trust people, having had it ingrained in him that they were only there to give him orders, or hurt him. It made it hard to believe anyone would have his best intentions at heart... Except Clara. She felt familiar, and as uneasy as he had made him at first, he was glad. He knew he could trust her. "Hey, you're the one dragging me around... and I'm the one who's going to have to carry all those bags."

"You say that like you didn't already know what you were getting yourself into." Clara retorted, letting out a quiet laugh. She had a feeling that Times Square wasn't the best idea. There would be a lot more people there, and she was sure that it made any normal person not used to huge crowds a bit uneasy. She didn't know what it would do to James. "If we can't find anything around here, we'll try Times Square."

"If you say so, boss." James laughed softly, more than prepared to follow her lead. He didn't really have much of a clue as to what they were supposed to do now they were in New York... He just felt... Lost. Like he didn't really belong anywhere anymore. He was a man out of time, and it had never felt more obvious to him than now. The only thing he was certain of for now, was that he was able to trust Clara... And that he wanted to make sure she stayed safe.

"Boss? So you're admitting that I'm the boss now?" Clara asked, punctuating her words with a raised eyebrows. She knew that this was all a part of their couple act, but she really did find that conversation flowed very easily between them. It was much easier to talk to him than it had been when she first picked him up along the side of the highway. "How about here?" She suggested. It was a thrift shop, but it was the first shop she'd spotted that she assumed sold clothing.

Casting a brief glance down to Clara, James continued to smile. "Don't let that get to your head..." Clara was definitely in charge, simply because James was slowly starting to feel more and more overwhelmed. Even as a highly intelligent being, James couldn't put together the process necessary for their day out in New York. Figuring out wind direction and speed, when was the right time to pull the trigger, the time between firing and hitting a target... Complicated math came to him within an instant. But he didn't have the faintest idea when it came to co-ordinating 'normal' life. "Sure," He shrugged, moving to open the door for Clara. Although he didn't seem too excited, a thrift shop seemed perfect for him. Nothing would be too expensive, nor would any of it draw attention to himself.

"Oh, it's too late for that. It's already gone straight to my head. How unfortunate for you." Clara laughed quietly. She knew that this was at least a little overwhelming for him, and she hoped that making jokes would help relieve him of some of the stress that this whole situation probably gave him. She smiled when he opened the door to the shop for her, stepping inside. She didn't understand why so many people turned up their noses whenever someone mentioned a thrift shop. Little places like this had character and history and culture. She found them quite fascinating. "If you see anything you like, let me know."

"Why? So you can approve of it first?" James smiled before stepping away from Clara. It was slightly odd to think that these clothes had belonged to someone else before they ended up here... He'd never really had anything to call his own, and it made him wonder how the clothes ended up in the store exactly. He wondered if people had given them up simply because they didn't want them anymore, if they had outgrown them, or maybe they were passed on to the store by loved ones... Or scorned loved ones. He wandered around amongst the racks of clothes for a few moments before coming to a pause. Using his right hand, he gently felt the fabric of a dark red plaid shirt. It was soft, nothing like the clothes he wearing now.

"Of course. I'm not letting you buy anything hideous. I do have to be seen out in public with you, remember?" Clara's tone was light and teasing. She figured that they could get quite a bit here for a lot less than what they would have paid in any retail store in Times Square. Plus, little places like this had so much character. It fascinated her. She started looking through the racks herself, managing to find a few clothing items here and there that she figured would fit James.

It was a slower process for James, figuring out what exactly it was that he was looking for. Finding new clothes was taking a larger toll on him than he initially thought it would... It was all part of rediscovering who he was. Truth be told, James had no idea who he was outside of a Hydra weapon, or who he had been before that... He didn't know what clothes he used to wear, or what clothes he even wanted to wear now. Everything had been so limited, and so restricted... Freedom was almost daunting. After a few moments of feeling the fabric between his fingers, he finally took the red shirt from the rack. It looked big enough to fit him. "How about this?" He asked with a sense of quiet uncertainty as he held up the shirt to show Clara.

Clara knew that this all was probably a bit overwhelming for James. She knew that it was a lot to take in all at once, and she hoped that she'd picked a slow enough pace as to not overwhelm and bombard him too much. Walking over when he spoke, she studied the red shirt in his hands for a couple of seconds before nodding in approval. "That should work, especially when it starts getting colder out."

Red stuck out to James for some reason, it just seemed familiar and comfortable to him. He didn't want anything too vibrant, or anything that would draw attention to himself. Red just seemed right, especially when it was the deep tone of the fabric. He paused for a moment, clearly hesitant before he picked it up off of the clothing rail. It was a starting point, somewhere for him to go from there. He didn't care if he looked good, or if it particularly suited him... He just needed something that made him look normal.

"I think we're off to a good start already." Clara said as she continued walking, thumbing through a few of the clothing racks as she did so. The goal was to ensure that James didn't stand out much, if at all, and she had a feeling that, after today, they will have achieved that successfully. "It's relatively warm this time of year, though that will definitely be good as it starts getting cooler in the coming months." It was summer now, but Autumn was right around the corner, and she was certain that it would be here before either of them knew it. She only hoped that they'd still have Hydra off their trail at that point.

Warmth was another thing that appealed to James. It would make a nice difference to the freezing conditions that Hydra liked to keep him in. Warmth, comfort, and plain. With a metal arm, it was going to be hard for him to fade into the background... But he hoped with the right sort of clothes, he'd be able to cover it up somewhat. T-shirt's were out of the question, which would make it difficult to stay cool during the hotter weather. Still, he preferred the ability to blend in. Scanning along the rows in silence again, James paused to pick up a faded red henley shirt. It was light, but the long sleeves appealed to him the most. Once again, he held up the shirt, showing it to Clara for approval.

Clara smiled when he held up another shirt for her to look over. "I think that will do just fine as well." She said. She noted that both shirts he'd picked out were red in color and long-sleeved. It didn't take rocket science to determine at least an assumption as to why he'd be choosing long-sleeved shirts over short-sleeved ones, but the red color of them definitely made her a bit curious. "Is red a favorite color of yours? I can't help noticing that both of the shirts you've picked out so far have been red."