Fight Club
"First rule--" Bucky began, sitting comfortably on the counter for the bar. William, despite his many, many faults, had come through with the deal, and the unlikely trio were now flying across the Atlantic in a private jet. The flight, however, could only go as far as Paris, so their trip was--in Bucky's eyes--unnecessarily prolonged, but at least it gave her time to train her wards.
"We don't talk about Fight Club?" Charlie asked with a giggle.
"I don't understand that reference." Bucky gave Charlie a questioning look. "But the first rule is: don't go looking for a fight. Now if you train with my friend Steve you might get a different story, but, believe me, the best battles are the ones avoided." Bucky's hand involuntarily ghosted to where she had been hit by the sniper just a few days before. It had healed remarkably quickly, due to Bruce's quick handiwork and her own nature. If she had only been more careful. "And the second rule is, unless you know Judo and some other martial arts, never fight anyone bigger than you. They'll either just pin you to the ground, or hit you hard across the head and then you're down. So I'm going to teach you Judo."