Spock has never ridden a bicycle. Two-wheeled, self-propelled vehicles were never invented on Vulcan, as the sand is difficult to maneuver through without feet or treads. This fact is revealed when they must conduct an away mission on a planet which primarily uses bicycles for transportation. He finds the humans’ nostalgia over the little wheeled-metal-things to be quite interesting, if illogical. He expects his Vulcan poise, strength, and agility will allow him to easily master bicycle riding–but he is very mistaken. He skins both his knees before the rest of the away team realizes he’s never done this before. They instruct him on what to do, and manage to find one training wheel for him, and Captain Kirk runs alongside him pushing the bike to help him get going. Spock finds the wind in his hair to be surprisingly exhilarating, and when he turns to share this with the Captain he finds Kirk is no longer running beside him. He’s biking all on his own.
When they were kids, Bucky and Steve both wanted bicycles.
No matter that there was hardly anywhere safe to ride them, or a backyard or driveway to learn on. They wanted shiny new bicycles like they saw in advertisements.
One year, after saving from his paper route and his job sweeping the corner pharmacy, Bucky has enough to buy a bicycle. It’s meant to be shared between he and his siblings, but as soon as he can he sneaks it out to show Steve.
And it’s beautiful. A polished forest green work of art with silvery handlebars and a blonde leather seat.
Steve is embarrassed at first because he doesn’t know how to ride a bicycle, and Bucky already does because Bucky just knows things.
In what little free time they have, Bucky teaches Steve how to ride, helping him along in little circles in the alley until he can go in a straight line and stop. Steve slowly masters the bicycle, even though Bucky has to take it home with him every time.
Bucky never calls it anything but “The Bike.” Soon his family catches on and follows suit. It’s never “my bike” or “Bucky’s bike.” Steve notices and it makes him feel a little better. He’ll never be able to afford his own bike, but if anything, sharing one with Bucky is even better.
Even now, when Steve remembers it, he thinks of it as “The Bike,” as if there were only ever one in the world.
It disappeared with most of his worldly possessions when he was declared dead in the war, but if he concentrates he can still remember the sound of the wheels whirring over the asphalt, and the smell of the city in summertime as he rode The Bike to the grocer’s.
He can always hear the way Bucky’s young voice said, “Don’t worry about crashing, Stevie. The Bike’s immortal. It’s gonna live forever, just like us.”
“Sure, Buck,” Steve would say, “you’re gonna live forever.”