2807/Two Out of Time...

Two Out of Time...
Date of Scene:	06 August 2020
Location:	Food Court: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Peg and Bucky catch up in the SHIELD cafeteria...
Cast of Characters:	James Barnes, Peggy Carter

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James Barnes has posed:
James actually knows how to cook fairly well. Once upon a time, he was even a short-order cook in a diner. But....there are nights when he just can't be bothered, and really, the food here is decent. So he's sort of absently munching his way through a burger and fries, a book propped up against the napkin dispensed before him. Lili's dozing at his feet, head on her forepaws.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Dinner. Now that she's far more active than even she was as director, Peggy's body is fairly good at reminding her it needs fuel. Or perhaps it's the upkeep of the serum and genetic changes. Who knows. But gone are the days of working through dinner and tossing back a sandwich in the middle of the night before crashing out. She's not exactly sulking -- don't call it sulking -- but she is in a mood. She has been since whatever happened earlier in the week. So, she storms into the place, annoyed at all to take time out of her day to do something trivially distracting as eating. Tray grabbed, the first plate of whatever comes up on the hot line put on it, a cup of tea, and she's clicking her high heeled way across to James. She plops down near him without word or permission. "...Keep reading. Just... not sitting alone again tonight." She mutters. His company in silence is preferable to most others.

James Barnes has posed:
With infuriating deliberation, he closes the book gently and looks at her across the table, brows arched. "We don't gotta talk, but I'm not gonna sit here and ignore you," he says, with a rueful little grin. "Though I am curious as to why you've had a bee in your bonnet lately."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Her small nose screws up a bit as he calls her on it all, just sitting right there, out in front of them. "...How very American of you to not just properly ignore emotions and have a simple bit of nosh in proper silence. No, instead, you just bring it up for all the world to see, Bucky. How very forward." And she did not answer his question one little bit. But she's talking to him, at least, as she picks at the roasted potatos on her tray.

James Barnes has posed:
The grin broadens...and for a moment, it's that infuriatingly arrogant smile he used to wear during the war. Cocky as they come, all New Yorker's insouciance. Buck lifts a finger, wags it admonishingly. "Scolding me isn't gonna change the subject," he sing-songs.

Peggy Carter has posed:
He gets a snap of dark eyes and a deeper smirk from still-red lips. Peggy's all sharp business today, the outfit of meetings and briefing tables, not field work. That might further explain her mood. "Once upon a time, you know, you did bother to listen to me. Even followed *orders* when Steve wasn't being a bad influence. ... Or perhaps the other way around." She finally forces herself to eat a potato instead of just playing with them. There, her mouth is busy and she can't respond either.

James Barnes has posed:
"Fair enough," he concedes, lifting his human shoulder in a shrug, letting it fall. "Seriously, though, what's going on? I mean, I get if I don't have the clearance to hear about it, but....be vague." He takes another bite of his burger, chews away, air philosophical. Relaxed, as much as he ever is when out in public.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"No...Hell, James, it's not about clearance. It's just... a... Mash of things and nothing I can do about it." Which is the worst place for Peggy Carter to be. She's done nothing but fix things her entire life but, this matter, it seems she isn't certain she can fix. Her dark eyes drop to her food, not all that interested in the dish or eating, but it was the time. She sighs quietly, "... easier to avoid when you're being mouthy about it. Just looking like that..." She does look back up into his eyes. Just a moment. It's long enough to break whatever final resistance is there. "...Do you remember Lucky Logan? He ran with you boys for a while, the Canadian. Well... you all ... Disappeared. And he didn't. I was that man's... Handler in SHIELD, for want of a better term, for the better part of 40 years. And I was quite certain he was dead. He missed a rather vital appointment in the 80s..." And here's where it hurts. "I was... wrong. Just another friend who was pulled into years of medical torture and experimentation that I failed to save or even know was in trouble..."

James Barnes has posed:
That's a hell of a reply, by the way James stares at her. All that easy assurance banished, pale eyes wide. "Wow," he says, after a long moment. "I do remember him. He was something different even back then, but....ah, God," He shakes his head, not so much as any kind of disagreement as trying to dispel the sheer shock. "That poor guy. Who had him? And, uh......does he know himself?" Because of course, his own first thought would be the stripping of memories.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"He... didn't, for a while. It's been coming back. He recognized me, at least, when he was in for a briefing." Peg gives a bittersweet little laugh through her nose, "He thought I was dead too, so I suppose it's only fair that neither of us visited sooner, but..." Peggy shakes her head, that tired worry that seems almost permanently etched on her face just setting it a little deeper. "I'm not totally sure. I don't think it was HYDRA. He said he's been...handling it. I suppose that means killing them. I don't blame him in that, hell...I'd try to help if I knew more."

James Barnes has posed:
There's that familiar cant to his brows, James confronted with a conundrum. It's got to be strange, at times, with the changes - that bigger, heavier body. The hair down past his shoulders, when he undoes it - but still *him*, vividly so. "I can't blame 'im either," he says. "Hell, if he's killing HYDRA, I'm there for that, any day. But it is depressingly true, their stupid slogan, about how no matter how many you kill, there's always more..."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...I don't know if it's worse if it's another HYDRA cell or...there's other mad scientists out there that like to use military men as medical experiments." There is a momentary look on Peggy's face that isn't exactly guilt, but the weight of sadness. A realization of the words she just said, "... I shouldn't be surprised by now. It's practically tradition. Awful... bloody... tradition." Her fork is put down. Dinner is even less tempting than before. At least she has some milk tea to vaguely soothe it. Tea is always appetizing. Then she looks up to his knotted brows and something softens on her face. The echo of who he was shines through so clearly sometimes. She doesn't mean to be staring, but she probably slightly is.

James Barnes has posed:
"We're tough enough and usually in better shape than most of the population. I remember Zola fuming that they only gave him the guys who were practically at Death's door," he notes, matter of fact. No fading of his appetite, but then it's even odds that he's paying any attention at all to what he's putting in his mouth. "And with Logan being something odd even then, I bet guys like Zola would want him to play with." A beat, and he adds, "It's not on you, Carter."