1381/A False Alarm

A False Alarm
Date of Scene:	26 April 2020
Location:	Suite 06: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Steve speaks with Bucky about the wedding-related contents of Janet's fashion binder. Sam stops by as well to check in on his friends and all are subjected to bad bird-related puns.
Cast of Characters:	Steve Rogers, James Barnes, Sam Wilson

---

Steve Rogers has posed:
<<MUST TALK ASAP STOP. SIT REP PERILOUS STOP. INCOMING STOP. >>

Yes, the 'stop's aren't necessary, but Steve chooses to inflict them on his oldest friend in every text he can manage. Barnes knows full well how eloquent Rogers can be with his words. It's hilarious and will never cease to amuse the Captain.

He still arrives at the 'rented' suite at the Triskelion looking a hair wild around the eyes. His hair itself is wind-blown, indicative of a quick zip over on his motorcycle, and he continues wearing his fleece-lined riding jacket as he enters the room and closes the door. Immediately, after the portal shuts, he groans into his hands over his face.

"Buck, think 'm losing it," says Steve even as he drops a palm for the resident German Shepherd to sniff at.

James Barnes has posed:
Lili's off-duty, since they're at home, as it were. No vest, so she goes padding to Steve's side without hesitation. Buck's in jeans and t-shirt and Chucks, and there's genuine concern on his face. "You wanna drink? I got some good local ciders," he offers, that familiar frown stitched between his brows. "What's goin' on?"

This isn't Steve in combat leader mode, or anything like it. "Or just a soda?" Already padding over to get glasses.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Lili cannot be resisted. Dropping to one knee, the super-soldier proceeds to give her the appropriate amount of scritchies in all the best places around her ears and attempts, at least, to tell her sweet things in Gaelic. His smile //almost// fully shows.

"Cider'll do it. Something stronger's tempting, but...still gotta ride home," he explains as he rises up, still distractedly weaving fingertips through Lili's head-fur. Another drag of his hand down his face proceeds a big, big sigh.

"So..." On the vowel goes even as he reaches to rub at the back of his neck. "...I, uh...there's this book that Janet keeps around full of ideas for fashion 'nd stuff 'nd she left it on the couch in my room at the mansion a while back. I moved it 'nd it was...full of..." Gulp. "...fulla things about an upcoming wedding, but thing is...Janet used herself in all of the modeling. She was wearing the designs."

How he stares at his friend. Help.

James Barnes has posed:
Lili is, of course, utterly agog. This is second best human, right? He deserves love, and he gets it. German Shepherd-style, with a lot of licking and tail wagging.

Buck's pulled a pair of bottles out in a clink of glass, and he hands one off. He even manages not to drop it as Steve says that. The frown only deepens, goes almost forbidding. ".....that's what she does, though, right? I mean, she designs clothing, including wedding gear. She knows her own measurements, how things hang, all that. Why're you looking like you've seen a ghost? Are you afraid she's gonna ask you to marry her?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve takes the cider offered to him and immediately sets to working at opening it. It takes a fumbling amount of effort, but his thumbnail pops the cap. This does arcing through the air into a skittering tumble across the floor. He sighs at it as well, as if this too were a source of concern.

"You look all perplexed, Buck, but you know her well enough that she might well do it, ask me herself, 'nd..." His lips pinch. "...'m not ready for that," he admits very, very quietly, eyes downcast as if he's somehow failed utterly in this entire affair.

James Barnes has posed:
Lili goes darting after it, then turns a betrayed look on Steve when it turns out to not be a thrown treat. Buck sighs. "Don't give him that look, girl." There's a dog cookie jar on the counter, in the shape of a big sad yellow hound with droopy eyes. The sound of ceramic scraping makes those big ears perk up, and she trots over, expectant.

"Well, what's your plan if she does?" he says, determinedly prosaic. "And....do you think eventually?" Tone still neutral, as he pops the cap on his own, takes a long pull.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Leaving his chin tucked, the man watches Lili hare off after the cider cap and then return for a proper morsel at the cookie jar. He glances up at Barnes at his question. Something goes ragged behind his eyes before he manages to avert them. Instead, he too takes a long pull rather than immediately answering. His thumb gets slung on his pocket as he stares off into the middle distance for a little before huffing an uncomfortable laugh.

"God, Buck, I...I got no plan," Steve readily admits, looking back to his oldest comrade with a starkly neutral expression. "Didn't think it'd ever even cross her mind, if that's what it is in the idea book, even subconsciously. Maybe I wanted a family before I went under the ice, but now...too much has happened -- is gonna happen. HYDRA was supposed to be gone. World was supposed to be at peace. Suit's in the way of the idea. Can't even think about it because 's'not safe for anybody fool enough to take on my last name." His voice sounds sore.

James Barnes has posed:
A proper morsel she gets - a tiny Milk bone, crunchy and tasty. Then she licks her whiskers elaborately, before going to find her big Nylabone and flop down on her bed and mumble it. Lots of mock growling and huffing.

Buck's leaning against the counter. The pale eyes are very bleak, very tired....that weariness that betrays his real age. "That's what really stinks, isn't it? We died....and they didn't even really win the war while we were gone. Right back out and there they were." He takes a deep breath. "This is....I'm not glad, but I agree with you. It's no life for a husband and father, but you'd never let yourself retire. The world wouldn't, even if you wanted to."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve nods, his lips pinched and eyes again off in the distance over Barnes' shirt sleeve. There's a resigned slump to his broad shoulders now that lifts but a notch in order for him to kill another half volume of the cider from the bottle.

"'s'right. Outta the forces 'nd into another skillet entirely. How'm I supposed to retire anyways?" Not entirely rhetorical, the question. His attention strays to Lili with her Nylabone and the ends of his lips twitch into a faint smile. It fades quickly enough. One boot-toe scuffs the carpet of the room.

"Dunno what 'm gonna tell Janet if she asks, but...'ll think about it. She'll understand. Won't be a deal-breaker." Maybe if he says it enough, it'll be true!

James Barnes has posed:
There's that wry slant of a brow. "Exactly," he says, on a sigh. "Heck, what would I do with myself anyhow?" His grin is thin, humorless. "Let her know why. I don't imagine it will be a deal-breaker, no. Not like she didn't know who you were when she got involved."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"s'true," mumbles the blond into his bottle. A final lift and its contents are gone, sure to barely set Steve's fingertips to tingling. He walks into the kitchen to find the recycle bin for the glass bottle. After putting it away, he wipes what had to be mildly sweaty palms on his pants without thought.

"You'd be m'best man at the wedding 'nd you'd still never get rid of me." He reaches to clap Bucky on the shoulder, now trying for a smile and getting at least half of a dimple. "Couldn't get rid of me back when, can't get rid of me now. 'm like a burr." Briefly, his face takes on the solemn cast again. "Thanks, Buck, for...for everything."

So much conveyed in so few words.

James Barnes has posed:
The whole place is painfully neat. But then, what does he have to do with his spare time, beyond tend Lili and clean? He tries for a smile, too. Nominally the old one....but there's that remote look in his eyes. Winter has his opinions of things, too, after all.

Sam Wilson has posed:
After recovering from the whole... Penguin thing, Sam is still feeling the after-effects of it all. He needed someone to talk to that was a friend. While talking to Morrigan is nice, he hasn't known her as long as he's known Bucky and Steve. And considering that Steve can get really busy, Bucky is the one to visit. Plus, he connects better with him on the combat mission thing.

Knocking on the door, he waits to see if it's opened first before he announces, "Bucky? Hey, it's Sam. You got a moment?"

James Barnes has posed:
"One sec, Sam, I'll be right there. Gotta friend over." His only other friend, let's be honest. Well, human friend.

The door opens, and there's Barnes, as usual. Dressed like a real boy in t-shirt, jeans, and Chucks, as opposed to either SHIELD fatigues or the full on HYDRA assassin gimp suit. And there's Steve, too, in the kitchen. Buck's suite is almost entirely bare of personal touches except for things for the dog - including a dog cookie jar on the kitchen counter, and a crate that functions as a dog toybox. The dog herself, his big German Shepherd, looks up from her bed and thumps her tail. Sam is third best human, after all.

Steve Rogers has posed:
There is, in fact, one really busy Steve currently not really busy. The Captain is wearing his brown fleece-lapeled motorcycle jacket and jeans over his combat boots -- of course, there's no sign of a helmet.

Who wears a helmet anyways?

Leaned against the shallow break of wall between kitchen and living room, he lifts his brows and gives Sam a wry smile. "Oh hey, you finally escaped the Audubon Society's petitions?" quips the Captain even as he steps to return into the living room section of the quarters. He gives Bucky a knowing, significant look even as he goes to sit on the couch tucked to the wall. The AAR on what had happened with the Penguin had been an interesting read.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Yeah, and he's a recent escapee at that. However, he is wearing a Happy Harbor Harbor Seals t-shirt with a pair of blue jeans and sneakers. Sam gives a smirk at Steve's comment and looks amused. "Uh, yeah, about that." He sighs. "You know I've always had a strong rapport with Redwing, like how Bucky is with Lili. It's changed." he rubs the back of his head in thought.

"I can see through his eyes now. I mean literally see through his eyes. And not just his. Like any bird near me. And I can feel their thoughts and just."

"It's weird." he finally decides on.

"So, what's new with you two?"

James Barnes has posed:
"That is weird," Buck agrees without a beat of hesitation. He glances at Lili. "I love her, but I don't wanna see what she sees, to be honest," he adds. Looking at Sam critically, like he might be able to spot the changes.

There's a little indefinite tilt of his head at that question. "Me? Not much." He might as well still be in the ice cube tray, when he's off mission. James seem to live like some sort of monk, safely cloistered away from the modern world.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Definitely," echoes Steve of the Soldier's opinion on avian matters. He too glances over at Lili and briefly muses about what a dog might see. His brows quirk; yeah, that's a bit too out of his range of normalcy. Shifting his shoulders, the Captain then moves his arms to rest one along the back of the couch, one along the couch's arm itself.

Hands up turn as if to shrug in immediate answer to the question. "Busy as always. Stark's got his campaign, Thor's in 'nd out all the time..." He smiles somewhat self-depricatingly. "The world spins on...can't complain about that."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"And you're on everyone else and not telling me about yourself." Sam's seen that from Steve before, as he moves to take a seat. "I decided to take up an offer to do a little counseling at Happy Harbor." he offers to the pair as he settles in and holds out a hand for Lili to sniff if the dog comes over for pets. "And no, Bucky, I didn't grow feathers or the like." Amusement tugs at his features at that.

"If I was interrupting one of them moments of the whole 'we're from the same era and noone can understand us' things, I can gladly duck back out." Sam's amusement becomes something more concerned. "But you two are probably the best friends I have. And I worry and want to make sure that things are adjusting okay. Even if it's been a little while."

James Barnes has posed:
"His sense of self-preservation got shot off by a German sniper somewhere in the Ardennes," Buck says, in his driest voice. "Never has grown back. And it was rudimentary to begin with." Lili gets up to come ambling over to Sam, Nylabone still gripped firmly in her teeth. She's grunting in pleasure.

"Nah, we weren't complaining about how bananas taste like dirt now, not again," he specifies, shooting Steve a look. "Yeah? What kinna counseling they gonna have you doin'?" he wonders.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Scoffing quietly to himself at this long-lost sense of self-preservation, Steve side-eyes Bucky.

"Barnes, you're full of it." Still, the grousing isn't exactly intense even if the squint lingers. He does agree with the addendum about bananas with a nod, looking back to Sam now with a more neutral set of features.

"I did note that I was busy," he says as to the claim of not expanding about himself, " -- which was the truth 'nd then some. Still, what...jogged thirteen miles in thirty minutes this morning. Late start." A wince isn't whole-hearted and the smile glitters in his eyes. He does again lift eyebrows in interest to hear about the counseling gig.

Sam Wilson has posed:
"You want something that tastes like bananas from your time, get a banana Laffy Taffy. It's made from the flavoring of the bananas that no longer exist. Just in case you were really complaining about the bananas." Sam responds to Bucky in a deadpan. "I thought it was going to be counseling kids on their future, but I got to looking at the files, and maybe I missed the briefing, but they got this whole thing with kids than have powers. I think Mo wants me to talk to them about how to be responsible with what they can do. First meeting I had was with the son of an Olympian god that got caught on camera cutting the head off a satyr that was threatening a girl." It might be just a little heavy.

Then Steve goes talking about his running prowess. "Thirty minutes? You're slowing down on me. I can do thirteen miles in... hour and a half. Easy." There's an amused tick to his grin, totally rising to the bait that Steve laid out. "I mean come on, Bucky can do thirteen miles in thirty minutes too, I reckon."

James Barnes has posed:
"I know, I know," Buck says, but he's grinning. A long-standing bone of contention, the changes between 1945 and now. Then the grin fades. "Wow," he says. "Yeah, that's a lot. I mean, God knows, kids that got 'em can use all the help they can get....and you *are* trained....."

Steve gets a roll of his eyes. "I've always been faster'n you. Still am," he says, amused. "That hasn't changed."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve's frown at the news brings a severe shadow to his features. "Helluva start to the job," he commiscerates. "Buck's right though. You've got the knowledge 'nd the applied experience in your corner. Kids'll benefit from it, 'specially with how you know better'n most off the street how it is to balance responsibility with a public image."

He shifts in a rustle of fabric and then takes on an innocent cast. "See, thing is, Buck's also wrong. He's forgetting that while I used to wheeze like a calliope with sore tonsils, that's not the case anymore. Things've changed." Barnes gets a frankly challenging look. "Did thirteen miles in twenty minutes last Tuesday."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"Thanks. I appreciate the vote of confidence." Sam says honestly to the pair. "I know, but I was no more street than the pair of you. Well, street for 1940s." Folding his hands over his knee after giving Lili a quick scruff of the fur on the top of the head of the German Shepherd, "But I'm really glad to have the support."

"And the talk of physical fitness. The national physical fitness test is coming up, and I was actually coming to talk to Bucky to see if he might want to be the guest proctor for it. Get out for a little bit, visit the school, talk to the kids, give them some encouragement."

"And you know, if Steve comes along, you two can pick teams and see who does better at the test." he offers in a coaxing tone. Because who wouldn't want to see the pair of them in action.

James Barnes has posed:
Steve's seen that expression for decades. It's the 'Let me tell you why that's bullshit, Steve' variant of the James Barnes smirk. "I'm still faster than you, Steve," he says, folding his arms over his chest, after setting his bottle down. "Sam, you want a drink? All I got's cider, right now. Local stuff."

A shake of his head for Sam, the smile fading. "Nah," he says, quietly. Unlike Steve, he's staunchly refused to do anything with the public at large since regaining his freedom. As if determined to keep his head so far down the rest of the world will forget he exists.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Gonna have to put your money where your mouth is, Barnes," reminds the target of that expression. "Because I think you're wrong." Steve pats the arm of the couch once as if to stamp his approval on his point. He watches the dark-haired Soldier demur as to the proctoring and very carefully smiles, supportive rather than pitying -- pity has never been the answer to a reaction as this.

His true-blues return to Sam. "I'll take a look at my schedule. Figure it might be best to run the test as is just in case 'nd don't count on either of us being present."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"I can go for a cider, Bucky, thanks." As disheartened as he is with him keeping his head down, Sam isn't about to try force Bucky out of his shell. He's just going to set carrots outside and wait for him to poke his head out. However, he does pause. "If not that, maybe you can help me with something over the summer. No kids, or the like. When I was a kid, I had a roost. I actually had the biggest roost in Harlem." he explains. "I was going to build a new one at the school. Could use an extra pair of hands. No public, just... some work." he shrugs.

He nods to Steve. "It's no pressure and I ain't the type to promise you two to something. Just thought I'd feel you out. If you find the time, though. Let me know." He offers a quick smile to the pair of them, then asks Steve. "How's things with you and Janet? She still miffed about the burger challenge?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Of course. I'll let you know if the schedule opens up." Steve then breaks out into his first real grin since arriving. He rolls his eyes off to one side before shrugging, glancing back as he replies as to the burgers, "Nah, she wasn't miffed to begin with. She was glad to be out with the team. Feel bad for Clint though. He finished last, so he got the monitor duty. Plan on visiting him during the next shift, maybe bring him a sandwich or something to help take the edge off."

He then sighs, his smile softening. "Things're good with me 'nd Janet. Steady. Think she's got another fashion show coming up, so helping her out here 'nd there with it as I can."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"Good to hear. Does that mean we're gonna see the 'All-American' collection in the fall, with Steve Rogers, supermodel?" Sam asks with an amused grin. "I'll bring Clint a burger, I'm sure he'll enjoy it." he offers as he draws in a breath. "I'm glad the two of you are getting settled in." Though he looks to Bucky in concern. "I just hope that he maybe..." There's a shake of his head. He can't make him. He can only make offers.

"I just wanted to check in and make the offer and see if everything was good. If you guys need me for anything, you have my number." he offers to them both.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The idea of acting the part of model present on the catwalks rather than the on and off temporary hanger has Steve smirking and shaking his head to the negative. "Nah, don't think we'll see anything like that. Be a bad model anyways, 'm always having to have inseams fixed or too rough on the clothing."

He still rises to his feet after patting his thighs, bracing them there as he stands. "'ppreciate it, Sam. Your number's always there 'nd that in itself is a help. Now...how're you gonna turn down the Audubon Society's eventual request to be their mascot? I hear it's for the birds."

Bad puns are bad, and this is delivered with a shameless slyness masked by near-theatrical innocence.

Sam Wilson has posed:
"Naw, I think I'm gonna duck outta that faster than Bucky flies from the limelight." Sam isn't backing down from that pun challenge. There's a playful smirk as he chuckles at the comment.

"But you know, I'll keep my ears open for the buzz about you and Janet's next fashion line." With that, he's getting to his feet and giving Steve a quick clasp on the shoulder. "Thanks, Steve." He needed a little bit of levity.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve returns the firm clap on the shoulder to his fellow Avenger. "Sure, Sam. Keep watching like a hawk for any news, though you probably won't spot it without a pair of binoculars."

Rogers is in it to win it, apparently, by his lingering grin.

"Let's get out of here before we get brained for too many bad puns," he adds even as he's walking to depart from Barnes' room. "Take it easy, Buck, I'll text you again. Stop."

Steve goes glance over his shoulder for the off-chance of a projectile, even if it's just a flat look. Safe! For now.