002 ✪ audio + action

[redactions]

Who: Jim Barnes
Broadcast: Fleetwide audio.
Action: On the moon.
When: Sept. 20th.

Good morning. This is Captain James Barnes. By now we've assessed the damage to the ships — seems like it only slowed us down some, and whoever the enemy was they don't seem to have followed us. That's not why I'm here.

[ a half-beat of pause, then, ]

We can't guarantee there'll always be shields or weapons aboard our ships at any given time. That doesn't mean we can't work out a system to make sure we're covering for each other in a fight. If we can form groups of two or three ships, at least one with weapons, and coordinate a few flying formations, we stand a much better chance.

As for communications, if they're taken offline like that again we are going to need a solution. We used manual signalling in my War; I'm open to options that don't have us scrambling blind during a crisis like that.

[ a beat ]

We got lucky, this time. We might not be again.

Barnes out.




→ shooting range

[ You know. This is simple. The pistols take getting used to, but it's a matter of practice. Assembly. Disassembly. Ready, aim, fire. One end of the shooting range is devoted entirely to Jim trying out all the variants he can get his hands on. They are laid on the table in front of him neatly. ]

[ All the shots hit the centre ring of the target, if not, damned closed. He's not concentrating too hard or scowling, just seems perfectly placid, and steady. When he feels eyes on him, ]

Sorry, did you want [ gesturing to the row of pistols ] one a'these?

→ some seedy bar

[ This alcohol is completely algae-free and that might be the entire reason he's even bothering with it. This place doesn't look quite as ripe for sudden violence either; but there's still murmuring in the background and a card game that looks like it might be heating up. ]

[ He's sitting alone, in the corner, nursing a glass. Another one sits beside him, completely untouched. It's always been for Steve. ]

Comments

[redactions]

[ But they are one and the same, the outside doesn't match the inside, for both of them. Two winter soldiers, only one named for such. ]

Hey! I can't help perfection!

[ It slips out before he really has a chance to stop it. A brag worthy of Bucky, in his cheekier hours, but Jim doesn't clamp down on his mouth, just sort of looks at her with mild surprise, before he nods briskly and decides that yes, that's exactly what he was going to say. ]

[mucked]

[ she pauses before her final shot. ]

Nor your braggadocio, neither -- [ and peggy smiles. it's the first fully felt smirk since she'd suffered the misfortune of waking with this fleet. and this self-same smirk is the finest accompaniment for the last bullet's sharp report. the round buries itself deep in the target's centre: her one bullseye of the clip.

gently (reverently) she sets the gun aside. something about 'bucky' puts her more at ease than this far-more-staid captain barnes. the smirk still lingers at the edge of her mouth when she turns to face him full-on. ] God, that felt good.

[ a bare sort of line, wiggling like a worm on a hook intended to snare herself another buckyism in the face of so much jim. ]

[redactions]

[ He can only see the side of it from where he's standing, and when she turns the effect is profound. Like drowning, gladly, in familiar waters. The ever-present tension in him has almost completely dissipated: he's unfrozen in time. ]

Oh, I've ways of making it even better.

[ He winks at her, roguishly, and then he dissolves into soft laughter. ]

God, how did you stand me?

[mucked]

Your novelty has yet to wear off.

[ sharp, but delighted. like a well-honed knife slicing through leagues and light-years. if she were to try hard enough, she might even believe herself to be back in europe -- unbroken, still. ]

Give it another week. Two, at most. Make hay while you still can, James.

[ her behaviour isn't quite girlish. instead, it's comradely. it stinks of campfire smoke and burning powder. and perhaps it's injected just enough comfort into the moment that she can face the concept of his metal arm with a lot more compassion and considerably less distance. ]

[redactions]

[ It's a carte blanche; an invitation to keep to the tune that's started to play, and he treasures it deeply. Peggy's gentle, warm, entirely of her own volition and not — pity. Not shared grief. ]

A bouquet wouldn't be out of order. Perhaps a candlelit dinner? I take it you enjoy a slow waltz.

[ The right partner. He's not it, the other Nat has the claim on his heart. But there's no harm in dancing, when it's been a long, long time. ]

[mucked]

[ -- she expects her heart to judder, shake, and skip its beat. she expects an awful lot of awfulness when he takes that one step too far. but in its wake, the word 'waltz' still echoing around her skull, she realizes she'd imagined a greater sting than she realistically felt. yes, the ache is hiding there beneath it all. but the ache never left. and james, as he plays fair and even with her, can only make her feel better. she feels more at home in this single moment than she has in all of nyc since the war's end. ]

Something tells me this isn't a slow-waltzing sort of town. [ but she still dismisses his frippery and jesting with conviction. ] But I'll take that closed door we spoke of earlier.

[redactions]

Happy t'oblige.

[ She seemed almost... happy he went there instead of annoyed or distant. He'll take it. ]

If you want one a'these, we can negotiate with the owner, but between you and me I'd hold out for another stopover.

[mucked]

[ she pauses mid-step, and with her arms crossed over her chest she turns her body just so. peggy levels with a look of skepticism. ]

Why on earth would I want to wait? [ ... ] Think I can get a better price elsewhere?

[ but that still leaves her unarmed in the interim. ]

[redactions]

Well — there's better technology on other planets. If you want to get one here, don't let me stop you.

[mucked]

This technology still works, doesn't it?

[ perhaps she distrusts the more futuristic supplies. or else she likes that witch which she's familiar. ]

[redactions]

It does. You have guns that've been invented that don't need reloading, and instead a'bullets they fire something that cauterises the wound when it meets the target.

[ Cleaner, and less work for a doctor. No wonder it appeals to him. ]

[mucked]

[ her nose crinkles. it isn't that she doesn't see the appeal (because she certainly does -- and the humanitarian in her wastes no time in recognizing what cleaner work such weapons would make) but rather that it's still so hard to swallow. even now. ]

Clever, [ she allows. ] But also considerably more expensive, I would expect. Is that right?

[ convenience always comes with a price. ]

[redactions]

I ain't sure how the credits translate to dollars... [ he half-shrugs, one-shouldered ] but money is the least of your problems here.

[ He seems to have a lot of it, weirdly. Ratings or something. And it's not the Winter Soldier uses any except for necessities. ]

[mucked]

-- Is it? [ the least.

because either no one has explained quite how the credits work, or else peggy doesn't believe herself to be flush with any. she'd had no need to even consider her purchasing power until they'd arrived upon this planet. ]

[redactions]

[ Without hesitation, ]

Yes.

[mucked]

[ god, this is embarrassing. far more embarrassing than his lewd jests or anything else. in a softer, almost hesitant voice: ] Why not? [ ... ] Say I did want to negotiate a price for this gun, [ peggy taps the stock. ] Where do I even begin?

James, I haven't the foggiest about what credits I do have.

[redactions]

[ What he does is point to her communicator and send her a list of text instructions on how to check what she has, and transfer it to other accounts, or use it on a card. ]

Always get a receipt.

[ The paperwork annoys him: you can't do anything without having to run through miles of red tape. Nobody just talks anymore, it's orders, classifications. Nonsense. ]

[mucked]

How tedious.

[ dry. bone-dry. but it doesn't penetrate much deeper than that, for her eyes betray a quick interest as she scans the preliminary lines of information. all of it useful and all of it necessary. ]

And how is it earned?

[redactions]

[ A-ha. That... thing. ]

According to the Atroma, the more entertaining the audience finds you, the more sponsors you have, and the richer you are.

[mucked]

[ her face falls. sternness creeps in. ]

You're joking. [ it's barnes! he's been known to tell a joke or three. ]

[redactions]

Nobody's laughing.

[ Excuse you Peggy he only tells funny jokes!! ]

[mucked]

Presumably someone is. [ 'laughing' ] Or else you'd be making no bank at all.

[ that's almost a joke in its own right, though peggy isn't smiling.

[redactions]

[ Oh. Ha ha. ]

Well, that's a cheery thought. [ he exhales explosively. ] Least we're gettin' paid.

[mucked]

Quite. [ a soft sort of scoff, and then she tilts her head towards the range's exit. away, she thinks. they need a quiet place to talk. ] Although the mind baulks at a financial incentive for drama. [ thin smile. ] Perhaps I'm fated to be penniless.

[ wry, because the truth is that she can't help but find drama and trouble. but also because a spy doesn't like wearing that drama on her sleeve. ]

[redactions]

[ No, the drama's all unnecessary, but they all seem to be terribly dramatic people. Jim lets her walk ahead, content to follow. It's an old habit he hasn't quite registered was even still there — he's used to walking ahead. ]

You could always win some off me at cards.

[ She was always better at poker. ]