14660/Old friends, old habits

Old friends, old habits
Date of Scene:	08 January 2023
Location:	Sailor Pub and Bar, Mutant Town
Synopsis:	Brooklyn buddies, both battle brothers, catch up over beers.
Cast of Characters:	Winter Soldier, Captain America
Tinyplot:	Fortunate Son

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James Barnes has posed:
Bushwick in Brooklyn is one of those places you tend not to go unless you have business there, or happen to live there. Some people even come from there, or so rumor has it, and for reasons all their own choose to stay. And then there are those who are from the area, or at least the general area, who move out, go out, see the world, settle down elsewhere, and then come back from time to time. Because roots are important. Roots, family, and friends. The luckiest few even combine all three.

Although it's not that busy in the bar, a man has chosen to sit at the bar as if all the booths are occupied. That this gives him a perfect view of the surroundings via the mirror behind the bar and the reflections on the polished taps is, potentially, entirely coincidental. There is little to mark him out from a native, except perhaps his tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves even indoors, and the second unopened bottle that sits next to his own.

Lost in thought, Bucky waits, occasionally smiling at something sixty years ago and thousands of miles away. Anything to get his mind off trying to finish the report on the Kentucky mission.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Sailor Pub and Bar.

Been a long minute since Steve has been in here. The rumble and purr of a classic motorcycle is outside. Atop it is a man in a brown leather jacket, beige-colored pants, a blue flannel shirt. He runs his hand through dirty blonde hair, the feeling of a beard covering his face as the doors to the pub open and he makes a straight beeline for one James Buchanon Barnes.

"All quiet on the Western Front?"

Steve's voice, as always, was calm and rational. A still small voice. The friend of Bucky's comes and knocks at the bar next to Bucky, taking a seat next to him. Steve turns his head to look at him, a winning smile on his face as he looks to the bartender. "I'll have what he's having."

James Barnes has posed:
There's few people that get an instant smile from Bucky, and one of them just happened to wander through the door.

As the man sits, Bucky gives him a companionable slap on the back and slides the second bottle of beer Steve's way. As if he was going to let his friend buy the first round... "Been a long time Steve, how are you holding up?"

He gives the beard a sideways glance but doesn't comment. After all, who is he to critique someone else's style choices? Bucky is, of course, clean shaven and his hair is suitably short even if not short enough to pass for military standard. But the leather jacket, the driving gloves, the sturdy boots and the old jeans probably indicate he's the owner of that other motorcycle that's parked out front.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The feeling is mutual.

Steve catche sthe bottle of beer into his hand. "You know, I never got used to it. I always thought when I was a skinny kid that you know, that I would be able to get drunk with the boys. But the metabolism moves so fast I uh...can't." Get drunk. "But at least it tastes good." Some small comfort in that. He brings a hand to his face. "I know, I should shave it. It's growing on me, but it feels...weird."

He grins at Bucky for a moment, returning that pat on the back to him as he looks him in the eyes. "Too long, if you ask me. I'm doing good. Long mission, but happy to be back. How about you? Keeping to yourself or have you been making good company?"

James Barnes has posed:
There's an easy smile at the slap on the back, and Bucky takes a pull from his bottle while contemplating the answer. "Doesn't taste as good as it used to, somehow. Beers in the Winchester were better." But, of course, that place hasn't existed for nearly six decades, having had to make way for a new apartment block. "But it gets the job done."

Another glance at the beard. "Makes you look older, bit more... I dunno... mature. Must have been a really long mission if you didn't have access to a razor all that time." So, yeah, maybe he'll make a slight comment on it. But there's no malice in his tone, just good natured banter between old friends. "There's a few people I met that I think you'll want to meet later on. And of course Fury's still on me for that report from Kentucky."

Rumor around SHIELD was that Bucky had gone after something bigger than he'd been expecting, and came back with an injured agent, a singed Hawkeye, an excited Skye, a Hellboy with a big grin, and two plane loads full of filing cabinets... and was still filling out forms for the loss of a SHIELD vehicle and the accidental destruction of a large Kentucky farm. "There never used to be this much paperwork, how do you get out of it?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Everything tasted better back then. But, things change after sixty years." God, Winchester could make some good drinks. Shame that it got replaced. When Steve first woke up, he asked about it, and /almost/ cried when he heard about it's fate. Oh well.

"I feel like I'm 50." They're both over 100 years old, chronologically. "It was. Had to take a mission for the Avengers. Offworld. Had to tap into the more...diplomatic aspect of my personality." He chuckles. "Hard to overcome a lot of things, especially between two cultures, but the mission was a success."

Captain America, ladies and gents.

"I'm probably going to shave it. But, speaking of that report...I heard a rumor you got up to some big stuff in Kentucky. What got a demon smiling from ear to ear?" He asks, an interested gleam in his eyes. Thee's no malice or even scolding in his tone. He's not a Captain right now. He's shooting the shit with his best friend of over a century.

James Barnes has posed:
"He got blown up by a flame tank and then got to play with HYDRA flame troopers. They didn't realise he was fire proof for... oh, at least two minutes." Bucky admits, nodding silently at the summary of the off world mission. He's been on those, but usually only when they expect trouble, and he knows himself enough that his presence will never improve a delicate diplomatic mission. Except, of course, in a very terminal way.

"But it was a close run, Steve. Three of 'em had a copy of..." hesitant pause "... the little red book. Confiscated it in the end, made sure it accidentally got burned, but they nearly got me. I'm getting old." Says the man who doesn't even look thirty. "And when you've got time, I need to brief you on that mission, because I'm pretty sure we're not done with those guys yet."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"That sounds exciting."

Steve has thought about what he would have to do if Hellboy was ever an enemy. But fire? Fire is the /last possible thing/ he would even (never) consider trying against a demon. "Must've been a bad few minutes for them." He takes a long swig of his drink. "How close are we talking here?" Steve asks, only for Bucky to reveal they had a copy of the red book.

He stares at Bucky for a long time. "Okay." Steve remarks simply. "You're not that old, pal." he tells Bucky, as if to put that as his first statement. "Secondly, do you think they have more copies out there?"

He nods. "I'll make myself available. You're my first stop, Buck. Figure Fury's gonna be excited to put me back to work." He sighs at that.

James Barnes has posed:
"I hope not, but y'know how it is. Probably there's a copy somewhere. Now I know these guys got that kind of connections, they won't get me again." Bucky finishes, both the sentiment and his beer, putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Give it a few days Steve. You gotta take some time to yourself before Fury find something else for you to do. There's plenty of work for us out there, it's not going anywhere." A hundred years, a whole world war, across the glove several times, and still Bucky's looking out for his brother from another mother. Someone has to.

"They say you're as old as you feel, so at least we got them coming and going on that one. Got anything planned for the next few days?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Copy that. We'll keep an eye out for it. Thankfully, you're better trained and skilled. I don't care if we have to plug your ears for a few days, they won't get you while you're on my watch pal."

Seems Steve is gonna look out for Bucky too. Brothers to the end, in the fields of war and in the peace of home. "You know me, Buck. I'm never good at taking days off." Which is probably why he's always overworked. "True, it's not going anywhere, but it's gonna stay there unless it gets done. Besides, You know me. Can't look away." Which is not what Bucky is saying, mind, but Steve is always /on it/.

"This is it, mainly. Till I get folders on my desk." Steve remarks, finishing off his bottle and setting it down on the bar. "Thinking about catching up, otherwise, my book is open."

James Barnes has posed:
"Well, we did sign on to continue until the job was done." Bucky remarks with a smile as he stands, putting a hand on Steve's shoulder. Those were different days, in a different time, and even a different century. But they both did volunteer, and neither would even consider stopping until the job was done. Even if it takes another hundred years.

"Tell you what, see if you can find some time off next weekend. There's a good lake behind my cabin in the Appalachians and I'm telling you, those fish are lining up to bite. Can't say more relaxing than that, can you?" This is, of course, the cabin Bucky goes to when he doesn't want to be found, and which few enough people know about. If he's inviting Steve to join him there, there's something on his mind that he's not willing to talk about in public.

"Some fresh air will do you good."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"That was the mission. There's always the next breach." Steve remarks, watching as Bucky stands and he turns in his seat to face him. The hand on his shoulder, as always, permitted without incident. It reminds him of darker days, but spectacular times for their friendship. There was no border, no army, or legion that could keep these sworn friends from fighting back to back.

The cabin. Steve knows it well. There's something else, something more private. The code speak was not lost on him, and Steve smiles a beaming smile at his oldest friend. "Sure thing, pal. Let me get some packing done and I'll head out that way. I'll try to clear the schedule." He's so old school, he pulls out a notebook and makes a handwritten note. Apparently he doesn't trust his cell phone.

"Agreed. Give my old knees a rest too." Ah, old people jokes.

James Barnes has posed:
Without a word, Bucky pays for the beers and gives Steve's shoulder another squeeze on the way out. If he's being this secretive, something must be going on. And if he's not talking about it in public or even at the Triskellion, who knows what it might be about.

"See you later, Steve." the man waves on his way out, and moments later there's the sound of a bike pulling away from the bar. Ah well, nobody ever accused him of being a man of many words.