He takes the offered corner, stretching the sheet out as far as he can. If they stay huddled, and move fast, they got enough cover. Mostly. From here, he can see several puddles glistening on the pavement, some shallow, but the others looking a little like they could sink you in ankle-deep. What if just getting splashed by one of them would do even more to him than the rain itself has?

Or worse? Bucky's managing to keep a tight lid on it, but only because he's counting on getting back - quick - to his room and locking himself in for some privacy. Here's to hoping his roommate is out. Here's to hoping he can see Hicks off before he embarrasses himself, 'cause it was bad enough in front of Wanda.

"I already got tagged anyway," Bucky starts, and just because he's stubborn, he makes sure the rolled jacket is tucked nice and secure like a football. The plastic crinkles above them, as he gives it a little nudge; not enough to yank it from Hicks' grip, but enough to telegraph his intention to head out. This way, it says silently. "Watch the puddles, it's a regular minefield out there."