2972/Old Memories, Old Places

Old Memories, Old Places
Date of Scene:	18 August 2020
Location:	McSorley's
Synopsis:	Old friends meet for drinks in a bar dipped in nostalgia. Logan and Peggy both get deep in the cups. Topics range from clone daughters, daughters of magnetic tyrants, and dreams of killing genocidal Hydra agents in their sleep. Not their first night of drinking and most certainly won't be their last.
Cast of Characters:	Peggy Carter, Logan Howlett

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Peggy Carter has posed:
McSorely's pub is not one of the of the fanicest places in New York City. In fact, it smells like the 80 years of beer it's been crusted in. Some of the walls are still stained from when you were allowed to smoke indoors. Pints have gone from 10 cents to 7 bucks, but there's still a few original menus on the wall. The booths are all small, close together, made for older times and private conversations. It's a place Peggy is horribly fond of and, while she wasn't certain if Logan was still in the city, she sent him a simple message incase he was. 'Going to McSorleys to make a night of it. You're always welcome. -Peg'

She's been here through one pint already, tucked into a far back booth and thankful that it's quiet on a Monday night. She's clearly off work, wearing a 1940s style wrap dress in a deep burgundy instead of her normal high waisted suits or business clothes. Soft vintage waves, her usual red lipstick. In a place like this, she can lose herself in time for just a few minutes. She's also taken over the juke box for at least an hour, mostly having played late 40s and some early bop selections from the 50s. No one in the place is complaining.

Logan Howlett has posed:
When Logan puts in the effort, he is able to polish up a little. His natural bushiness is trimmed into clean lines, which give him a rustic appearance in lieu of looking like some poor guy coming in off the streets. He's forgone his usual outback hat to keep his hair neat. The wardrobe of the day is a red flannel shirt, sleeves unbutton and rolled up his hairy but muscular forearms. Fresh blue jeans and hiking boots give off a stereotypical lumberjack vibe as enters McSorely's.

A single whiff of the air and a quick scan sets his sights on Peggy Carter. He offers a warm smile and wanders to her booth sliding in across from her. An up-nod to the bartender is enough for his usual pint to be ordered. "Thanks for the invite, Peggy. How are you doin'?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
As she sees the door open, dark eyes flit to the side, head tilted in the quiet hopes it's him. He'd probably left the city already, she convinced herself. But then, that familiar face comes into the shadows of the old bar and her smile is immediate. It just grows as she looks him up and down, one brow lofting thoughtfully, "Mm. Logan. You even cleaned up a bit. I'm flattered." She teases him softly, clipped accent warm in his direction.

"I figured this is nicer than back at the office, where I'm still fairly certain either one or both of us are being watched like a hawk. Yes, I used to do it to any number of agents... I still don't like when it's done to me." She wrinkles her nose, scooping up her beer and taking a quite generous gulp of the thing. She drinks like a soldier when she's in the mood.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Ah well, Peggy, you are always so well put together, evenin' out in the middle of a warzone. Figure the least I can do is a little trim. Don't want to cramp your style." He grins and accepts his own pint with gusto. He taps Peggy's glass and takes a long drink.

After he swallows, he frowns just a little. "Yea, not super keen on bein' 'observed' myself. Use to be a lot harder for the spooks to keep tabs on me." He taps his nose. "But.. tiny electronics and satellites have changed the world. Gotta go into the middle of no-where in Canada to disappear these days."

"So, back in the saddle. You whippin' these kids into shape then?" He raises a dark eyebrow and takes another sip of beer.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The commentary about tiny eletronics makes her nose wrinkle just a bit. Even if Peggy was involved in developing several of them, she still doesn't love where they've gone. She clinks glasses with him and happily drains another good gulp with a gusto that says this is going to be a drinking night. Sometimes, they just are. Sometimes you need them.

She chuckles a bit at his commentary of her being put together and, just to show how put together she is, she stretches her legs out and kicks them up onto the seat next to him, neatly crossing at her ankles, but definitely not the most lady like of gestures. It's a night to be comfortable.

"Somewhat...back in the saddle. I think they're still not really certain if I'm *real* so... old rank isn't back. That's fine by me." Not really. She sounds a little lost without it, but she's not going to admit thta. "...Gives me more time to go into the field as I please. Or...semi-retire, I suppose." That sounds like the scariest thing of all.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan chuckles and shakes his head. He glances over to her legs and quips, "Alright Carter. It's just rude to put your weapons out in the open like that. If we were back in the 40's, that'd be an outright scandal."'

He swirls his glass and listens to her plights back in SHIELD. "Well, that's their loss. Mixed feelings about havin' you there. On one side, I don't want them havin' your skills some days. On the other, I want them havin' your heart. In the grand scheme of things, I guess they do more good than harm, so I -guess- I'll let them keep you."

Grunting over his beer, he shakes his head. "Don't you dare retire. You'd be bored off your ass and you know it. If you need to keep busy, help me figure out how to get rid of Magneto."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"... I haven't renewed my concealed carry permit yet, Howlett. Got to make certain it's clear I'm carrying." Peggy winks at him, the old teasing easy to fall back into. It's more reassuring that even the comfortable pub around them. She stretches, sprawling just a bit more in a way that say's she's pretty much experiencing with what it is to NOT be in charge and perfectly poised at all points in time. It's an uncomfortable freedom.

"Let them keep me?" She asks with both arched brows now, her head tilting a bit more curiously to him. "...And where else would I... Ah." As he hits on the Magneto commentary, understanding crosses her features. As quickly as she was relaxing, she sits a bit straighter, all business coming to her eyes again. "I'd wager a good guess that's why you made certain Lorna and I finally met. She's... she's a sharp young lady."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan offers a knowing chuckle and waggles his eyebrows at Peggy in admission to guilt that he may have had something to do with the meeting. "Yes, she is. Sharp with a lot of burdens. Been workin' with her for years, started doin' a bit more trainin' with her directly. Though..."

He drains his pint glass and taps the side of it to signal for another. He sighs deeply and shakes his head. "She's not always the best with her decision-makin'. She's cozyin' up to the sub-mariner."

Drawing a hand over his features, he groans. "I mean don't get me wrong. He's better than Magneto... Mostly." He grumbles a bit, "I'm sure she knows what she's doin'. Maybe flipper has gotten a little better over the years."

Peggy Carter has posed:
They weren't supposed to work tonight, but Peggy can't resist work when it's put in front of her. Especially if it's someone he cares about. She pulls down her legs so she can sit straigher and even ignores her beer for the moment, preferring to keep a clear head as she considers the situation.

"Alright, big guy, you must back up a moment or two here. Who's the sub-mariner? And, if she needs to stand up to her father, is he going to actually be supportive of her... retaining her position in a more permanent fashion?" The look in Peggy's dark eyes is the sort he's seen before. The sort that says she's willing to assassinate or topple dictators in the shadows if she thinks it's good for the world. Apparently, she's deemed Lorna worth conspiratoring on behalf of.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Namor. You know, lives in the ocean, occasionally threatens the rest of us. Was kind of an ally during the second war. Weird wings on his ankles." He gestures in the air with his fresh pint once it arrives.

He offers a grunt, "Ah yea, there's an update to all that. When Magneto got himself free from Brainiac's bottle, he dumped about ninety-nine percent of Genosha on its ass and took his 'believers' up into space. Now he's a maniac floating on an asteroid in orbit."

Resting a hand on his face, he groans. "He hurt a lot of people with that move. People I care about, but I knew he was goin' to hurt them eventually. Never trusted him. Pretty sure she's remainin' Queen of Genosha, because they need her. I may have.. been very blunt when I saw a bunch of them mopin' about bein' dumped. Gave 'em the 'Nations live on, only regimes die with tyrants' speech.  My timin' was probably off. Just... really pissed me off."

He chugs about half his pint and stops himself before wiping his mouth on his forearm, grabbing a napkin from the holder instead.

Peggy Carter has posed:
As Peggy hears that news, and watches him chug the pint, she leans out of the bar just enough to gesture to the bartender -- certainly not their usual from previous times, but a young man with a side shave, an old fashion mustache, and two arms full of tattoos. "...Just get us a pitcher, love? Thank you." She should have done that from the top. She knows what it's like on nights like this.

Then she's back to Logan, a touch more anger pinching at her features as she considers what was done to Lorna. "... I'm glad we didn't have to go in and... handle him. But he really is that much of an insane bastard, isn't he? The poor girl..." She huffs out a quiet breath, staring down into her own pint for a moment. "I know she's not a girl. She's a queen. And she seems incredibly capable. But she's still his daughter and I... will never understand why people waste the gifts they've been given. Especially *children*..."

She then looks back up to him, a bit of a tired smile coming in turn, "And I'm sure your speech was better than you realize. It's the right one for that mess of a moment..."

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Yea, he really is. Don't know why so many people have a blind spot for 'em. Figures one of the people I want to get rid of most can move metal with his mind... And here I am, with a metal skeleton." He snorts at the incredulity of it all and drinks more from his pint glass.

"Lorna said that... Magneto knew enough that he wasn't a suitable person to raise her. Poor is right. I hope she's havin' fun under the sea." He drinks again and shakes his head, "Ugh, children... Some of us don't know what to with them, Peggy. I've got two daughters now. Well, they are clones, but that's a long story in itself. One is a bundle of sunshine, and the other one is just like me. Poor girl."

He laughs, "Ah, well. I got some dirty glances, but at least a few people nodded. It's a real shame. If I could have my way, I think I'd lose a lot of friends, Lorna included amongst them. Because if I got a clean shot on Magneto..." He draws his thumb across his throat then drains his glass just in time to refill it with the newly arrived pitcher.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy just blinks at him as he mentions his daughters. And then she blinks again. Technically, his clones? Peg is staring and trying to process the words that he's just said but they are a... Lot. Finally, she just picks up her beer and takes a drink long enough to drain her glass. Granted, she started before he did, but that's a dump of news to drink to. She slides her glass over for him to refill as he's got the pitcher.

"...I told her much the same when we talked. So, I don't blame you and...if you need ... Back up to handle things, you know where I am now. You just call." She means that, dark eyes searching for his, so he can see that she's dead serious about every word, even if they are talking about murder. Sometimes, it's necessary.

"...Now... back up one minute. You have two ... *Daughters*?? Clones? You don't just drop that in the middle of a conversation and then walk away from the topic like it's a sweater you lost in your closet. ... What??"

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan eyes Peggy long and hard while he refills her pint glass then slides it over toward her. He groans and leans back reaching into his pocket for a cigar before he is reminded 'No Smoking' by a nearby sign. He grumbles and contents himself with another sip from his glass, sucking down the head of foam before taking another chug, adam's apple pumping up and down his throat.

"Well, Peggy.. While you were gone, a lot of things happened. Department H, the Weapon-X Program, Alpha Flight, and now my present affiliation. During all of that, I may have made a name for myself for bein' an outright murder machine. Some folks decided that it might be a good idea to make more of me. So they did.. Thing is, they forgot the part about how damn uncontrollable I am." He cracks a laugh, "And so history repeats itself, now I've got Gabby and Laura. Its honestly, a bit far reaching for me to call them my daughters. They've done a lot to take care of themselves, I didn't even know they existed most of their lives."

He sighs again and shrugs, "I.. try to be nice. Help out when I can. They are now surrounded by good people. People much better then me. So I'm happy for 'em. They'll be just fine."

Peggy Carter has posed:
He can eye her all he wants, Peggy stares right back at him with a look that says she's not going to let him dodge the question. That's a major life change and she's listening. She doesn't even scoop up her freshly filled pint, but all her dark eyed attention is for him. He'd need to drink twice what she did to feel it anyway, so he can work on catching up.

That familiar, protective anger crosses her face for just a moment as he talks about all these programs. Enemy organization she doesn't yet know, but he can practically read the mental notes behind her eyes of who to look up and how to 'handle' them. "Murder machine might be a bit...Much. You've always been... effective. But you've had good reasons behind every kill you made. If they turned you into something else... or tried to, that's on them. Not you." But it still makes her jaw tight. She finally goes for a sip of the fresh beer.

"... Hell. That's... still a lot. I'm glad they're both in a safe, good place. That's all you can want for your... children." That's an easier word than clones. "I suppose. That's still..." She shakes her head quietly. "I could barely handle worrying about every agent in the field, much less someone who is your flesh and blood."

Logan Howlett has posed:
"I cannot begin to explain the conflict of havin' someone steal your damn DNA and make people with it. If I was intendin' to have children, I would have rathered not skipped the fun parts about makin' them. I was angry at first but... Gabby and Laura are people. Good people, with good potential. Laura has her demons, but so do I. For their sakes, I wished they'd be brought into the world differently, but they are here now." He pounds his next pint, he's not near to feeling it. He looks over to the bartender, "Hey, can you get me a few shots of bourbon or hell, ever clear? I've just dropped a few bombshells, so might as well down a few bombs."

He pushes his pint glass aside and folds his arms on the table. "Peggy, I'm glad to have you back, but don't make all my problems your problems. Because I've got one hell of a backlog. I'll take your backup when I really need it, same as I've got your back."

He points a finger at her, "You've got a life to jumpstart. So for the sake of havin' a good night, let me try and turn things more positive. I've met a lot of good people. I've got legitimate family and friends.. of which you are one.. so things are not all doom and gloom for me. Now kick those legs back up, because they don't make 'em like they use to."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The commentary about his problems gets a slight wave of her hand, but she does put her legs back up at his side, stretching out again and happily showing off those gams and the fact that she can just afford (and they are easily made) cuban heeled stockings nowadays. They'd have been a horrible, nearly impossible luxury back in the war. Now she feels almost decadent for wearing them. "Good. I'm glad you decided to play catch up. One more of these and I'll be slightly sauced. I'd hate to be alone."

But her expression goes a touch more serious, even as he's asking her not to take on his problems. "I'm not going to go trying to hunt down every one of your problems. I'd much rather do that at your side. But...SHIELD doesn't need me like it did. In fact, it's moved on without me. Bucky...Steve and I... we're yesteryear. And I know that. I've half a mind to take mostly a leave of absense and dedicate what's left of this life to hunting down every last HYDRA bastard I missed before. Because I need...something to fight, Logan. I can't just...sit here. I don't know how to do it. I'm going half mad waiting for some mission that fits my... outdated skill set... To come up."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan drops a shot into one of his pints after they arrive. He'd visited enough that the staff was acquainted with his ridiculous alcohol tolerance. He chugs the concoction and hums contently. "Take a field trip, Peggy. I know some great people, who are amazing at modern technology, and love to teach. You ain't -that- outdated. Hell, I think you've got an advantage, because you haven't been spoiled by all this damn tech. You know things work without it."

The Canadian takes a long look at those stocking glad gams, because not many women wear those anymore. He's always been a bit of flirt anyway. "If you want to go Hydra huntin', I'll go with you. Sure we can tag a few people on my Weapon-X list while we are at it. I don't have the resources to fix the Magneto problem, but maybe if I get rid of a few of the other distractions. Things will stabilize enough to handle the bigger problems."

He drops another shot glass into his pint and sips this time, "Oh, add a few mutant haters to that list too. Its a... uh.. very long list."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg doesn't bother moving her legs, or even being offended he's looking. She knew how she dressed. Flirting with an old friend and talking work? Well, it couldn't be a better night, really. "There's... a lot of clean up to be done. Not just HYDRA, but I know there's some left. Too many... got passes because the higher ups felt like we could use their minds. We never really got to finish it back then... Now I'm not tied to a desk and it's one of the few things I regret."

She nurses her beer now, letting him catch up in shots even if she'll end up just as tipsy as he after this pint. The outside of her ankle and high heel clad foot just rests lazily against the side of this thigh, a brush of affection without actually needing to say a damn thing about it. "Is it awful of me to think...the most tempting thing in the world is hunting down and killing the lose ends I never managed to in the past? Have I gotten... cruel in my old age?" Not that she looks a day over her 30s.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"The way I look at it, Peggy... 70 years is a long time to tolerate an itch. Part of gettin' old is knowin' when you need to just give things a good 'scratch'." The tips of his claws dart out from the back of his hands just slightly at that. He waggles his eyebrow and reaches down to pat her calf.

"If you really want to tighten those lose ends up, I'll be your knife. Just like the good ole' days. You tell me where they are or bait the trap, and I'll go for the throat." He rolls his empty glass in his palms. "Just don't let any of the boy scouts know we are up to old tricks."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"They were in the fight with us for most of it too. I don't think they'd be... quite as opposed as you think. But I suppose it did get... Messy at the end there." When it was just them. And still, there are a few loose ends. She watches those claws with slightly higher brows, his ability to control them to just being the tips is fascinating. There's no fear on her face -- just curiosity at the metal claws she's never quite seen before.

"...That doesn't... hurt more than the bones did? Are they more... effective?" Her calf slightly flexes under his touch, comfortable old affections just some how deeper after all these years. It meant more, for how long she thought they'd never do this again.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Guess it depends on the monsters we find. Your show, Peg. We go huntin', you bring the crew you want. I just won't apologize for guttin' anyone who deserves it, even it that makes someone like Cap cry." He raises his glass and takes another drink.

"Some good people took care of me, I've got guides now that keep me from piercin' my flesh every damn time. As for more effective..." He chuckles lowly, shaking his head. "Oh Peg, you need to read my file, darlin'. My whole skeleton is coated in adamantium. I've taken a punch to the face from the hulk. I mean.. I flew really far, but I stood up. These claws.. They might be able to cut through Cap's shield for all I know. Rare day when I find somethin' they don't slice clean through."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I read it. I don't think I... entirely comprehended exactly how... Effective it is. You've always been one of the toughest bastards I've ever known. How do you make Lucky Logan even *more* tough?" Peggy admits with a little laugh, though she's only half teasing as it's really starting to set in just how much they messed with him, but also made him a more effective weapon. She finishes off her beer without ever taking her eyes off of him, drinking in just how much she's missed.

Finally, she nods, "I'll find some targets. Team will depend on just how big the nest is. If it's just us, we've proven to be effective before. But Buck... He needs some direction as well. SHIELD doesn't trust him on half the work out there and the poor man can't just... Sit in his apartment with his dog. I trust him on this work and I trust you." Then she goes quiet for several heartbeats, daring to lean forward and pour herself another half beer. Only half this time. She doesn't need to get melancholy. A tired laugh does escape her lips, though.

"...I'm sorry. I did actually ask you out so we could relax, and here I am... Work the only thing on my head. I think I really just gave up being anything but the director of SHIELD towards the end there. Eventually, your work becomes your entire life."

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Don't sweat it, Peggy. I struggle keepin' my head off work most of the time myself. I'm either dwellin' on the past or thinkin' about the people who've done me wrong. You won't get any judgment out of me." He's clearly feeling the alcohol to a degree. He took a lot of beer and an onslaught of hard shots, but he's got a buzz at least.

"And this is relaxin', regardless of the subject. Some friendships are like old gloves. This one is fittin' just right." He clacks her glass. "As much as we groan about the 'work', part of us loves it. Always will."

He grins a little and looks at her glass, "Slowin' down on me, huh? And here I thought I might be able to talk you into a mistake or two before the night was over." He laughs.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh now that's just bloody well not fair. You know I can't avoid a challenge. And whatever infinity serum they put in me when the assassination attempt basically succeeded, well...Most of it's worn off. This is just not playing fair." But she's challenged. And he has caught up (and then some). So, she reaches for the pitcher and pours out more to top of her entire pint glass, cheeks now fairly rosy with the warmth of the evening and the ale in her veins.

Once she's taken a good gulp of it, she looks at him across the rim of the Bass in her hand. Her expression is more amused than anything. "And Logan. Do you think I've ever been known to make a mistake in my life? Maybe once or twice, but I've long put that behind me. Whatever distractions we find... be it in the field or here, they are not mistakes."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan lets off a low whistle. "Atta girl."

Another clink of glasses followed by a long drink and a content sigh continues the conversation. "Ah well, we'll need to figure out the new ratio. I recognize we need a handicap here especially if we are going to ever get back into drinking games. You can't use me as a rounder in bets against other CO's any more, so you'll just have to face me on your own."

He smirks a bit, "Ah, well. You can slap me for this, but I tend to think anytime someone lets me into their life, it's probably a mistake. Though you seem to be one of the women smart enough to survive a friendship with Logan Howlett."

Gazing to her stockings once more, "And considerin' we are no longer mutually employed with 'zero fraternization' clauses. Letting old Hydra agents live might not be the only regrets I want to resolve." He hums and leans back in the booth. "Just uh.. consider that a warnin' shot across the bow if we keep in the drink."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A enigmatic sort of smile crosses her lips, though there is a trace of sadness behind it as well, especially as he mentions letting him into her life being a mistake. She actually pulls her feet down so she can lean slightly across the table and look straight into his eyes. No beer, no teasing right now. Just a dead serious gaze. "Logan. The one mistake I made was assuming you'd left my life and not getting to say good bye. We've known each other... God, 80 years now. I think I understand what kind of mistakes I'm making."

And then she leans a little closer, standing up just enough that she can manage to cross the table and place the lightest kiss at the corner of his mouth. She let's it linger, just a heartbeat or two, before pulling back to sit up straight. Her smile is earnest now, even if there is a touch of drunk wisdom behind her eyes. "But if the first time we let ourselves tell the fraternization rules to sod off is because we are both in our cups enough not to consider the decision... I think that might be something we regret. When... if... we ever do this, it's with clear heads and clear eyes. We owe each other that much." And with that, she reaches over to squeeze the back of his hand and kicks her legs up again. It will be a night of drinking, relaxing, and perhaps the promise of something more on a day not in their cups.