gotta get down for a mingle

[redactions]

Who: The crew of the SS Heron and visitors.
Broadcast: nope.
Action: Aboard the SS Heron.
When: After returning to the ship.

[ finally back on the right ship, except the corridors are all mysteriously cold and the ship seems smaller. Thanks, Atroma. New crew, visitors, starters in comments ]

Comments

[enshields]

[He leans one elbow on the arm of his chair, brushes his fingers past his mouth. Then,]

Thought about using a dictation program?

[redactions]

[ He laughs. ]

Yeah. The default program they put in those SHIELD phones. I took one apart just outta curiosity. Too many microchips. Stark would've had a field day with that one.

[ Of course now he knows why, but. ]

So I decided: better to be a little old-fashioned.

[enshields]

[He hehs faintly, the sort of laugh that results in a forcible exhalation of air but not much else.]

Nothing wrong with old-fashioned. Nothing wrong with new, either. Netflix? Fantastic.

[redactions]

You don't gotta tell me. I found this guy -- sellin' old motorcycles? Just googled how to restore it; it's good as new. You know, that Harley we always said we'd get? Black and mandarin red?

[enshields]

[His breath catches. Softly,]

I remember.

[redactions]

[ A smile catches at the corner of Jim's mouth. ]

Yeah. I got it. Sam has one matching. I'm saving up my leave so we can go on a road trip. 'Course, it might be sooner than we think.

[enshields]

Mine's black.

[Just black. He couldn't bring himself to buy one with a red racing stripe along the side, it was too much like saying goodbye to a childhood dream.]

You've known him longer than I have. Sam.

[He loves the man, Sam has saved him from himself in so many awful ways, but while they're good friends he can't imagine owning matching motorcycles.]

[redactions]

[ Jim hmms softly. He can't imagine not getting the same motorcycle — too much like forgetting the past. He could never let go of Steve. ]

Yeah. Around the same time I started working for SHIELD proper. Maybe... three? Four months after the Chitauri invasion.

[ Soft, ] He's a good man. I don't know where I'd be without him.

[enshields]

[He's not sure he wants to be discussing this in front of the Winter Soldier. The last thing he wants him to think is that he'd somehow been replaced, that Steve had moved on. He hadn't. Couldn't. But Sam's been a good friend to him.]

Two years. For me. After everything.

[redactions]

[ Two years is a long time to just be texting, to be making a list of what's on Netflix and going through the motions of being in the brave new world. Jim leans back, against Winter, and meets his eyes briefly. They rarely betray anything; the Soldier possesses an intensity Jim only has sometimes, and never for very long. Right now they're an anchor. There's an avalanche swallowing him and Steve. ]

[ Quietly, ]

And Nat?

[enshields]

[He doesn't like where this conversation is going, his look turns knowing.]

The same.

[redactions]

[ Jim meets it, unflinching. There's a Hell here for all of them of different designs, the emptiness that exists in all of them, and some part of him wonders how he ever could've thought Steve didn't need him. Steve who not minutes ago held Jim like he was desperate not to let go, or thought he might wake up. ]

[ He hopes the man next to him who's quietly eating his dinner has come to the same conclusion: you were missed. He half-turns, to look at Winter. Redirecting, for now. ]

You're gonna love 'em. [ a beat ] Maybe not the jogging. I hate jogging.

[reconstitution]

[ He meets Jim's gaze and nods his head in understanding. He doesn't feel that he's been discarded so much as left behind. There are things that he's missed by being with HYDRA through no fault of his own.

Being in this place is putting those things on hold, but it'll give him a shot at being as close to normal as he can probably get before things turn pear-shaped again.

He shrugs a shoulder, fingers laced on the table where he's pushed his plate away. ]

I don't mind running.

[redactions]

Not the same as liking it, pal.

[ He just prods at the Soldier, affectionately. ]

Obviously we gotta try it before you decide, but just so you know, I need to be bribed first. Pancakes are a start.

[reconstitution]

[ He raises an eyebrow. ]

That's a terrible bribe. You're going to get a stitch when you run.

[redactions]

I didn't say it had to be before -- it was for that week a'running.

[reconstitution]

Oh. Alright.

[redactions]

C'mon. Let's play a game. Friendly wager? You, me'n Steve, hey, what do you say, pal? A little race?

[reconstitution]

Do you wish to lose that badly?

[redactions]

We're technically the same person, so I'd be winning...

[ He grins brightly. ]

[reconstitution]

[ He very gently nudges Jim's side with an elbow. ]

<< Cheater. >>

[redactions]

[ Elbows him gently back, then wraps an arm around his shoulders and ruffles his hair, ]

Still winning.

[reconstitution]

[ He grumbles quietly, but they both know he doesn't mean it. Winter briefly leans into the embrace before straightening again, remembering they have company. ]

Can't argue with the Captain.

[redactions]

[ The corner of his mouth twitches, and he nods at Steve. ]

What do you say, huh?

[enshields]

[It's a little like watching a snake-charmed, and Steve has yet to decide how deeply unsettling he finds it. Part of him is willing to admit it's necessary, lancing an infection, but the other--

He draws a bit of a breath, smooths his hand across the small corner of table he's claimed as his own.]

I'm game.

[He's not. He's really not, but the memory of the hope in James' face and in his voice aren't lost on him. Steve's never backed down from anything in his life, even (especially) when he knew better.]

I'll even make the pancakes myself.