12066/Unwind, rewind, drink up

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Unwind, rewind, drink up
Date of Scene: 23 August 2020
Location: The Fireplug, New York.
Synopsis: Three friends meet in a bar to revive an old custom, relax, and realize that pub games may be beyond them.
Cast of Characters: Peggy Carter, Hawkeye (Barton), Winter Soldier




Peggy Carter has posed:
The Fireplug wasn't exactly a popular bar, unless you worked in some sort of service. NYPD, NYFD, veterans, it's been an institution in New York City since 1932 and still is an insitution. There's a long wooden bar that runs the whole way between two sectioned off rooms, the front room full of old wooden tables and green leather lined old chairs with brass rivets on them. The back area has two scuffed old pool tables that have seen better days but still get a lot of love. There's a dart board in the far room and a lot of dim, green glass shaded lights hanging from the cieling.

The walls are lined with decades of service gear. Patches, black and white news paper articles, photos of the NYFD's various yearly picnics. Thank you letters. The wooden floor has years of hard soled boots and scuffs on it, the stairs between the areas worn down to being rounded on the edges. The liquor is as cheap as you can find in lower Manhattan and they only carry 6 beers on draft, but it's the six the cops like to drink. There's a jukebox in the far corner, generally playing oldies. It's a comfortable place where you either fit in, or you don't. Most SHIELD agents fit in.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Packing for the mission is done; the last bits of arms loaded onto the Quin that is to shuttle him up to have been loaded and tagged. Now? It's time to relax, kick back with drinks and good company.

Dressed casually, jeans, t-shirt and a light tan jacket, Clint's pulling the door open and stepping inside. It's a home away from home as well; lots of familiar faces, the bartender as well greets by name. That's when one KNOWS one belongs there.

"Hey.. beer, please.." and the archer moves through the dim to find a likely looking table, nodding to the other regulars in greeting. While names may not be there, faces sure are.

"No darts tonight.." He doesn't feel like beating anyone..

Winter Soldier has posed:
    You know it's a good bar when you can tempt Bucky inside without a single suspicious glance around. But this is the place where he comes to relax, along with so many other agents, and some places are just above suspicion. Some people too. Now combine the two, and you have a very relaxed James Barnes that makes sure to hold out a chair for Peggy. Gentleman to the last.

    "Bourbon." he nods to the bartender, favoring the man with a smile, and knowing for a fact that he'll get his drink just the way he likes it.

    As they're simply socialising, it's unlikely that Bucky has more than two or three weapons hidden about his person, and none of them visible. Slacks, dress shirt, sturdy jacket, gloves... always gloves. Just dressed for a night on the town. "Sure you don't want to see if they have any goat milk?" Yes, he had to. Yes, that's probably going to be the last one for a while.

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is a strange timelessness to this bar, a bar that's been there since before Peggy moved to the city. But also, the purpose of the bar. For her, she's been in dozens of times over the years. Sure, none of the staff would remember her, but it's one of the few places that make her feel like she's not quite so lost in time as she does on the darkest nights. For the ones she's joining? Well, Bucky might recognize the red dress.

It's not exactly the dress she wore at the pub back over in Europe, when all the Howling Commandos went to drink the night before those last missions. But it's pretty close. A 1940s cut with a fitted waist and a low dipping neckline. It'd be considered painfully old fashioned compared to modern styles, but she feels comfortable in it. A set of red T-strap pumps and cuban heeled stockings. That's the most out of era for the war -- no one had stockings left by that point!

She follows the gentlemen into the room, Bucky earning a bit more of a smile and a tilt of her head in thanks as he pulls out the chair for her. "...Pint of Bass... oh. They're not going to carry that any more, are they... Uh... Whatever he's having." She'll trust Clint's taste in ale. She might regret this. She settles into the seat next to Bucky, actually relaxing by a few inches. The goat milk comment gets a deeper smirk but she doesn't follow it up, for poor Clint's sake.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
With Bucky getting the chair for the lady, Clint, at the very least, doesn't sit down until she's seated. Once she's seated, he gracelessly flops into his own, only to reach to grab the peants to start the cracking of the shells one-handed.

"Buck, you ever see the movie, 'The Godfather'?" Brows rise, and his tones are set to a good-natured lilt. "At one point in time, to send a message, a mob boss beheaded a horse and put it in a guy's bed, in warning." Not that he would kill a goat, but!!

"So, buddy.." Clint ends his story with a smirk before popping the shelled nut into his mouth. "Just sayin'."

The drinks don't take long to be delivered, at all. The waitress brings the glasses and sets them down as per the order. Yet another reason why it's a good place- don't even have to jockey and tell who ordered what!

"I think this is the first night out in a long time.. and with you, Bucky? Dogs age."

Winter Soldier has posed:
    "Good movie." Bucky agrees, grinning. Not that he expects a goat's head in his bed, but with Clint you really never know. Fun times.

    When the drink arrives, he pulls it fractionally closer and holds the fingers of his right hand around the glass, starting into it for a moment, and then staring through time. To another bar, very much like this one, but with Vera Lynn on the phonograph, blackout curtains over the windows, and the distant wailing of an air raid siren. Best time to drink, that was, even if it often took a while to find a bottle and the beer was usually long on water and short on actual alcohol. But those were the days.

    For a second, as he looks around, he can see familiar faces that pop up in his dreams every so often, and one by one they fade like wraiths until only one remains. The only one that's actually here.

    Without a word, he raises his glass to Peggy, to Clint, in a silent toast. No words needed...

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh, Barton, after the horse incident of 1974, SHIELD doesn't allow horse or horse parts in the internal areas of the building. You'd have to use a pony, at best." Peggy deadpans, her dry bureaucrat delivery so perfect it might not be entirely clear if she's serious or not, but she cracks a hint of a wry smile a heartbeat later. Legs crossing, she sinks back into her chair and actually looks like she might be letting herself relax. She's trying, at least.

Then she catches sight of that look on Bucky's face. She knows it. She knows it too well. Red nail tipped fingers wrap around her own pint and she raises it quietly, not needing to add anything else verbal to the toast, but she certainly understands. Beneath the table, her knee just lightly brushes against Bucky's. A deliberate motion to give some sort of tenderness, support, without bringing it up verbally. Heck, maybe tonight, she'd even give him that dance.

"I don't think I've been here since... the 70s. I can't believe it's still open. Wise idea, Clint. Before we all go freeze our arses off halfway across the world." While the moment had gone somber, Peggy isn't going to let it stay there. She levels a dark gaze between the two, her familiar smirk returning. "You know, I'm trying to figure out that, between the two of you, which is the biggest troublemaker. And I don't know if I actually can tell... It was always James here, but Clint... Your obsession with these goats..."

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
//You never really know//. That pretty much sums up Barton's life, right there.

Peggy's addition to it actually brings a laugh from the archer, and he nods his head appreciatively. "Okay, pony then. They have those mini-horses now, so..." and there's a sideways eye towards the super soldier. "Can always find a way around the rules."

Another peanut is cracked in a single motion, and the nut is tossed into his mouth, chewed. It's when the toast rises, the silent, it's not a pall, not to Barton. It's a recognizing of those ghosts, of agents past, present and future.

Clint lifts his glass, and keen blue eyes move to one, then the other, and respects are paid in silence. With the three, he takes his first swallow before setting it down again, ending his portion.

Now? All's fair.

"This place'll always be here." He raises his voice, knowing full well the bartender at the very least, caught that. "Right?!"

"Tha's right, Bar'on." Distinct accent.. all New York.

"You know.." Clint leans forward, pushing the shells out of the way to clear the way for arms, and his beer. "You know what that was? I was out in Afghanistan, and I went home with my contact. Family actually killed their damned goat for a meal for me. Then, they gave me a bowl with the thing's eyes.. told me that was a delicacy." So... he had to eat them? Ew.

"Ever since, every time I'm in the area, it's like I'm haunted by the thing."

Winter Soldier has posed:
    With the toast completed, with the feeling of a knee against his, color and sound rushes back into Bucky's awareness, and he's here, in the present, in the bar, and suddenly relaxing. A smile appears on his face as if by magic, and his pale blue eyes have a mischievous cast. The bourbon has a delicious burn down his throat, and for the moment life is good.

    "Seriously? They killed a goat for you? Gilzais or Ghazi? Either way, from there it's a small step for him to offer you to marry his daughter. Must have liked you a whole damned lot." No more jokes now, it seems. That time is past.

    "They're the best friends you'll ever have, and the fiercest enemies. Usually the same guy too, and you'll have about half a second warning before he turns from one to the other. Strange country."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Now it's Peggy's turn to fall quiet. It's been a long time since she was just welcome out with the boys. Directorship creates an entirely different distance between people. But now that's all passed, and she's content to settle into the warmth of the conversation. To being a part of a team again. Her knee remains gently against Bucky's and her beer in her palm. Whatever pint they put in front of her, it seems it's acceptably drinkable.

"...He's got a point, Clint. It might not be the goat that's haunting you. It's your new best friend." Peggy clips out gently, but she doesn't seem to be joking either. She's also still watching both of them, trying to piece out which IS the troublemaker. The faint smile of amusement hasn't left her lips.

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"I passed. She was nine."

Clint lets that hang in the air for a couple of heartbeats, his gaze set with Bucky's before he lifts his glass to take a slow, deliberate swallow of his beer. Once it comes down again, the archer exhales in long sigh before reaching for the basket again. Peanuts are grabbed and he cracks them again, holding the nuts in hand briefly.

"Yeah, I know. He's the reason I'm still alive and sitting at this table." Afghanistan.. so knowing what Peg knows, there's the movements and his contact is //active//. "'Course, there's not a lot I wouldn't do for him, either. Or his family. They deserve it." That almost sounds like an explanation rather than an offhanded, empty comment.

The peanuts are finally eaten, and he smiles a larger smile once more and leans back in his chair, ready to start his evening. "Can we get some wings here, please?"

Winter Soldier has posed:
    Blink. "Well, shit..."

    Blink.

    With deliberate care, looking at nothing and nobody in particular, Bucky raises his glass and takes a sip. "Yup..."

    By the time the glass hits the table, he's ready to let that particular hot potato drop. "So you're going back then? Taking backup this time?" After all, they'd promised Steve they'd make sure he didn't go alone. "Maybe we should keep a jet on standby?"

    Another blink, and then his loses his serious look. "But not with Steve on board. We'd like to get one bird back in one piece for a change, am I right?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
The quiet description of the family, daughter aside, gets a gentle tilt of Peggy's head. A motion of respect and acknowledgement of just how important those contacts in the field are. "...If that family ever needs anything you don't have... You let SHIELD know. We'll take care of them too." Not that it's *really* her decision these days, but she knows this organization. She knows their ideals. And just how important getting a good agent back is to them, much less field contacts. But the tone of Peggy's voice goes deeper than that. It's the acknowledgment of someone who knows how deep it goes when someone saves your life in the field. And that Clint has probably been through the shit out there.

Another deep sip is taken of her beer, a slight chuckle hidden behind the glass, "I wondered how long it'd take us all to get to work. We made it almost seven minutes. I'm proud of us." She's teasing them as she says that, no real complaint behind her tone. "And it seems you haven't told Buck or Steve the assignment you had in mind. Barton has a... particularly good mission for you both." Though, she doesn't explain more here. Dark eyes flicker around the room, questioningly. How much can they REALLY trust this place?

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
"Wild horses couldn't keep me grounded, buddy," Clint returns, and he's got the slight smile going. "Tried a real life, and.." he shakes his head and shrugs, though he takes another swallow of his drink. "Here I am."

"But yeah.. goin' back. Trip is booked, inflight movie is some Disney thing. I dunno. I'm just hoping there's more than just peanuts for the meal." With the word, he cracks another, and moves the emptied shells to his pile and eats the peanuts. "Steve? Well.." Clint shrugs again, "More than one destination on the itinerary."

Peggy's lightly sarcastic remark gains a barked laugh, and emptying his glass, he *thunks* it down and brow-raises. "Well, darts would be boring for me. And I'm sure as hell not gonna offer to armwrestle."

He does nod, and his voice drops, "We'll be chatting. All depends on where the excitement is." Even here, Clint's not willing to go too much further in.

Winter Soldier has posed:
    "I'd have suggested pool..." Bucky begins, ironically just before he finishes his glass, and then grins to Clint. "... but we've got a shark at the table." Peggy gets a quick, furtive glance and wink while he's at it, deciding to help himself to some peanuts while there are some left.

    When the talk goes to business, he glances around and seems to share the misgivings. Sure, he likes the bar. Sure, he trusts everyone in it. No, he doesn't trust it enough to talk shop. "Excitement is good. I'm always up for some excitement. You know me, otherwise I'd just sit around and eat peanuts all day."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg is more interested in her beer than peanuts, but then she has to keep her nails in tact somehow, and her fieldwork certainly isn't a help. "It'll be a nice vacation for everyone. Inflight movies aside. Good to get out of the office, at least." She seems to quickly pick up on the agreement that there's not going to be any details, or even direct hints, about work being talked over here. Still, she knows how to speak in roundabout terms, a life time of spy work being quite good at it. A ghost of a smile crosses her red lips, "... I realize this is my first vacation since the leave of absense. It'll be very nice to get out."

Technically, that's almost 50 years since she's been in the field. She doesn't look worried or scared about it, but more contently musing about it. "...It'll be very nice to not be at a desk for a few days." Bucky might pick up on it more than Clint, but those words ache for some action. Being director never quite suited her, trapped in an office. She gives Bucky a sideways smile, "None of us knew how to handle a real life... so, you're in good company, Barton."

Grant, there's still those wedding rings on her finger. She's not taken them off yet. But it's a quiet echo of something that shows, somewhere, she did try it...

Hawkeye (Barton) has posed:
Finally, the wings arrive, and Clint moves his beer out of the way. It's actually rare that he talks about work outside of work, and he's more than aware of what 'security clearances' mean. Everyone in the place is respectful, of course, and it's really easy to peg anyone who doesn't truly belong in the establishment. Still?

"Another round. My treat. Then my friend here gets to pick up the next," is requested of the server.

"Hope you got your passport, ma'am.. because tourist season is just beginning."

With that, he looks at Bucky and offers a grin before reaching for wings. "I think we're down to tic-tac-toe, then.."

It'll be a good night.. for tomorrow? The flights begin.