In his defense, Bucky's ability to hotwire a car dated back to WWII. He'd had some practice. Really though, it didn't always work; he counted his blessings that this time he'd succeeded.

He smiled widely at Billy, still high on the adrenaline of their escape and ignoring the painful feeling in his own left side and shoulder. It'd heal; he just needed time, and to get that time, they needed to get away. "You're crazy. Could you even imagine me as, I don't know, James Bond? Shaken, not stirred." That last was in his best Sean Connery impression, which left something to be desired — a very big something.

"You okay though?" he asked after a few moments of quiet while driving. "I mean, aside from the magic thing. He didn't hurt you?"