Yep, I expanded it.
James Buchanan Barnes was what his close friends could call a sensible man. Ever since being honorably discharged after the ambush near Kabul, he’d had his life together in a neat little package. He’d been diligent in his physical therapy courses, enough that he was able to compensate for the change in his center of gravity. He’d been back on his rollerblades in a matter of months.
Then his best friend had given him a dog. A ‘certified companion for veterans’, she’d said. Bucky had accepted without hesitation because Bear had been tiny back in the day. A teeny, tiny ball of fluff, trained to help him with his PTSD and night terrors, loving at all times of the day. What could go wrong? Then the little bastard had the audacity to become huge. Two years later, and he was 180 pounds of love who didn’t understand that Bucky’s lap wasn’t that big. Especially when Bear tended to sit on the more delicate parts of his anatomy.
The Archery Range 