Jumping into action at a barked order is more than reflex, it's instinct, one that kept Bucky alive through a war -- mostly. He's up and out of bed before his conscious brain's caught up with the rest of his body, his feet already shoved into dark leather cowboy boots by the time he realizes he ought to still be trying for a restless sleep. His alertness comes in waves; he knows it's Steve on the other side of that door, and he knows that he sounds too cheerful for this to be an emergency. Moreover, had something gone wrong, he wouldn't have taken the care to knock.

Curious and confused, Bucky shuffles towards the door, resting heavily against the frame as he swings it open and takes in the scene in front of him.

"This some kinda joke?"