55/The Punching Bag Survived...This Time

The Punching Bag Survived...This Time
Date of Scene:	21 February 2020
Location:	Athletics: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Daniel and Steve discover a connection in the past and Fury won't be ghosted again, damnit!
Cast of Characters:	Daniel Hastings, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury

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Daniel Hastings has posed:
The gym at the Triskelion leaves nothing to spare. It has a pool, sportsball courts, weight lifting.. all the things a growing boy needs. And all of the things an emaciated refugee from another planet would need to get some meat back on his bones. After three square meals and a cot, that leaves Daniel back on the track jogging at a steady pace with a stream of sweat coming down his forehead and a soaked SHIELD tshirt. Nobody ever said getting back into shape was easy.

Steve Rogers has posed:
An itch to get some excess energy out leads Captain Rogers to the section of the Triskelion devoted to athletics and lessons in all sorts of kinesthetic pursuits. In a pair of black standard-op sweatpants, teeth-grittingly white sneakers, and a brick-red t-shirt, he's got a small gym bag slung over one shoulder by its thin drawstrings. The man arrives with little fanfare and some friendly waves to those folks who know him well enough to greet him (or are brave enough to try it, especially with new recruits).

After slipping his bag beneath one of the benches neatly tucked off to the side of the track, the blond super-soldier engages in a few stretches. Arms, legs, core, and he's off at a lazy pace -- for him. Earbuds in his ears prove that he's intending to tune out the world around him as he does his umpteen laps around the track and temporarily leaves his cares in the proverbial dust. It does mean inevitably reaching Daniel on his own jogging foray and passing him, though not without a glance and a polite nod of greeting.

It's on the second lap around that it clicks for Steve. Hmm. That face seemed familiar somehow...but in that vague, annoying way which he's learned means the memory is attached to the past -- maybe a relation of someone he knew? So, as such, he comes around again to jog beside Daniel, not having yet broken a sweat, and plucks an earbud to say, "Know you're in the middle of something, but you got a minute?"

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel was on his seventh lap. He was bound and determined to at least get a quarter marathon in today. He wasn't insane enough to try to complete one after spending five years malnourished on an alien world. So when he was lapped by Captain Rogers.. well.. he stared at the back of the man's shirt until he rounded... and did it again on lap two. He had said he'd wanted to talk to the fellow but he was gasping for air and drowning in his own sweat. By the time Steve comes around for lap three, well, Daniel'd given up. "No no, quite alright there chap." He slowed to a walk with a hand placed to his side to fight the stitch as he regulated his breathing. "It's been a while. Could use the excuse." With a faint smile, Daniel offered his hand across his body to Steve. "Daniel Hastings. Leftenant, Canadian Armed Forces. Doctor. All of that." His grip is that of a tired man whose life was sucked out of him but damnit he's going to give Steve Rogers a firm handshake if it kills him.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Seeing Daniel begin to slow, Steve does the same and plucks the other earbud out of his ear. Away it goes into his pocket and while he shakes the man's offered hand with polite, firm pressure, he flicks the music app on his phone in his pocket away to silence.

"Senior Agent Steve Rogers. Captain, U.S. Army," comes the introduction with a small knowing smile. "Breathers're nothing to be ashamed of. Very familiar with 'em." A wrinkle briefly appears and then melts away from between the Captain's brows as he takes up an easy conversation poise, hands rested on his hips.

"Don't want to be seen as nosy, but I'll be frank. You've got a familiar face 'nd I was wondering if you had a relative in SHIELD before, back during the war."

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel spends a moment or two walking, catching his breath, the usual cool down thing. Once he has his hand away from the stitch in his side, he gestures off the path so they don't impede any of the other runners. "Captain.. what I'm about to tell you is classified six ways from bloody sunday but since you were there.. to hell with regulation." There's a glance about and he moves to the bench where he'd stowed his towel anyway. There he sits. "The last time you and I spoke, it was before the assault on Schmidt's headquarters in the Alps. We'd kitted up your motorcycle with a number of new toys, had tested the effects of the Tessaract weapons on Vibranium again.. just to be sure.. and I toasted your journey with a good Scotch." And there he sits, looking up at Rogers, just.. waiting for it all to sink in before continuing.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Not inclined to clog up the arterial flow of other fellow agents doing their laps, the blond man walks alongside Daniel and remains mindful to not accidentally give the impression of being not winded in the least.

"Regulation's something 'm not too worried about if it applies to me. Gossip's a sin around here," murmurs the Captain as he then pauses before the seated doctor. His arms cross, unconsciously further displaying his build. Daniel gets one of the classical quietly-intense looks, indication that Steve is truly listening, and when the tale comes out?

His eyebrows flick up as they tend to do in blatant surprise -- then follows the squint, wherein the keen intellect hidden beneath that good ol' boy mask slips forth. After a weighty few more seconds of his true-blues searching Daniel's face, he nods slowly. "<<Mo dhia>>," the Avenger sighs in his cradletongue. "That's where I know your face from. Right. You had a clipboard 'nd Stark kept accidentally setting his glass on it." A once-over is followed by another nod. "Whatever kept you around, you don't seem too worse for the wear."

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel Hastings brings his hand up to his forehead as Rogers reminds him of the indignity of working with that man. Brilliant man. Infuriating beyond words. "Yes. That's.. that would be Stark." He sighs long and heavily. "It was why I didn't feel in the least bad about raiding his stock for that drink." And so he looks back up at Rogers with his humor returned. "That.. would all depend on your definition of wear." He's definitely lost a few pounds from when you saw him last. The Doc wasn't scrawny and it looks like someone's stripped the meat off of him. It's the sort of thing Steve would have seen from rescuing prisoners of war or civilians from concentration camps. Only he's at least got his color back. "You know the Tessaract. I presume. Glowing blue square. Lots of energy?" He tries not to get technical. "It was recovered not long after your.. ill fated flight. We spent the next number of years studying it. Myself.. more like three. Then there was an accident. And I.. I was blasted across the universe to the Andromeda galaxy to a world called Kirit in the Kree dominion."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Know the Tesseract? Yes. Steve nods, his frown reappearing to hear of the amazingly-unnerving jewel of the Asgardian treasure-keep. He remembers reading of its recovery as well -- the memory of flipping open a plain beige manila folder while the shadow of Director Fury lingered off to one side passes through his mind. Malleable and expressive as always, the man's brows lift again to hear of the impossible distance traveled at the drop of a hat.

"'m not familiar with that specific planet, but I know the galaxy enough. If you manage to meet Agent Carol Danvers, she's got a wealth of knowledge about the place; not that you want to learn more about, I'd guess." His smile is half a curve, quiet and plain human empathy found in it. "Haven't made it out that far myself. Lemme guess: used their tech to get yourself back? Or did someone sneeze over there while crisscrossing a pair of wires?"

Daniel Hastings has posed:
"A little of both, actually." Daniel replies wanly. "You see.. the Tessaract left something of a mark on me and while I spent a number of years surviving, learning Kree, and figuring out a way off the rock.. I came to understand some of them. I can fold space you see." He let's that bombshell float a moment before continuing. "I lost track of the time.. two years.. five.. their solar cycle wasn't the same as Earth and I wasn't exactly keyed to living on Kree galactic Standard Time living as a vagrant and trying not to be identified as non-Kree." That would have been bad. "So.. one day I'd learned enough. Star charts and the like. Stole a ship. Aimed it for home. Only the Kree defense force doesn't like theft any more than we do so they tried to shoot me down." There's a pause, a deep breath, and he adds, "I've been trying to work out the math but they took the wreckage, SHIELD that is, so I haven't been able to truly decipher their warp drive and how it interacts with the Tessaract energies I seem to be channeling. Suffice to say space-time objected quite strenuously. Instead of arriving in.. oh.. say.. Fifty three.. I arrived a few days ago."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Helluva journey as a whole." Steve blows a sigh, a hand lifting off his hip to rub at the back of his neck. "Wondered where that hunk of wreckage came from over in R&D," he muses almost musically. "Must be your ship. Bet Agent Danvers might take a look at it if they asked her."

The Captain shifts in place and idly glances around the track as a whole. "Probably not the first to say it, but...welcome to the future." He looks back at Daniel, again wearing that knowing, almost rueful faint smile. "Been around for a little myself, getting on four years now. Takes some getting used to. Anything you have questions about?"

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel Hastings tilts his head then leans on his knees. That question. From Steve Rogers. Actually has the man thinking. "First. Where can I get a decent hamburger. This McDonald's everyone raves about is absolute rubbish. Second. Scotch. I'd like a bottle somehow though money seems to still elude me short of signing on with SHIELD again for a paycheck. Where would you recommend finding one? Last." And here he sits up straighter and looks Steve dead in the eye. "Things are.. decidedly more forward now.. ahh.. not that I have issues particularly with women in the work force but this Tinder.. thing.." Oh he has other words for it but they aren't polite. "Is not for me. Suggestions?"

Nick Fury has posed:
"Welcome to the Triskelion, Dr. Hastings," comes the deep, confident tone of the Director. Nick Fury somehow has accomplished what few are able to do (save perhaps Batman), which is to show up on the field without much attention called to him until he chose to be noticed. "And to 2020."

Fury's stance is loose and comfortable, but he is absolutely not dressed to do any manner of athletics. But perhaps he does do his workouts in attire suitable for the Matrix: the man may or may not actually sweat. He's in full black, probably armed, though his long black jacket covers that neatly.

Then, his single eye moves to Rogers. "Captain Rogers," Fury intones, his voice carrying a very clear reprimand in it. Steve will know why. But for the moment it is set aside. "....Set this man up with a date," Fury deadpans, amusement sliding to his tone.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Questions one and two weren't particularly difficult. Steve already has a suggestion in mind for a little burger joint tucked to the border of the Brooklyn and Queens boroughs and while he isn't a drinker, he's hung around Tony enough to know where to find a decent bottle of Scotch. It's the last one that has the Captain's expression morphing into something again rueful and very mildly amused.

However, he doesn't get to replying. Fury does seem to come out of nowhere. Not prone to being jumpy when startled, Steve does quickly glance over as proof of being caught off-guard; his arms unfold as he takes up a stance more militant, not slightly hips-akilter. Back to his hips go his hands. "Sir," comes the curt greeting to the Director.

At first, Steve returns the deadpan 'suggestion' with a neutral mask. Then comes that flick of brows. "See what I can do, sir, though 'm not a mountain of wisdom in that field. I have my sources, however, so if Doctor Hastings's looking for something beyond Tinder, won't be an issue." He nods again towards Daniel, amusement twinkling in his true-blues despite his professionalism.

And his resource is none other than his girlfriend, socialite and fellow Avenger, Janet van Dyne, she of the 'blind date' miracle by mercurial whim.

Daniel Hastings has posed:
Daniel Hastings pushes against his knees as he rises ot his feet. He's a little wobbly but then he's also been pushing himself hard. Squeezing into four days what many might not in a month. "You must be Director Fury. A pleasure to meet you." Wiping a sweaty palm on his jogging shorts, he extends it towards the fellow. "I should thank you for the cot and regular meals. It's gone amiss for a number of years." Now the notion of suddenly having a 'date' has him giving both Nick and Steve a wary eye. He'd honestly proferred the notion as half jest. Perhaps they'd recommend Church or a social group. "Quite." He offers succinctly to the repartee. Then he's looking to Nick, "Director.. I was wondering if you'd seen my blood tests and can confirm certain.. anomalous factors.. that might explain the genesis of my abilities? Also, if I could ask a small favor by way of a ressurection. It would seem the world at large presumes me to be dead."

Nick Fury has posed:
"It sounds like you'll have to delegate, Rogers," Fury replies to Steve evenly, his knowing, sly expression not quite bordering into a smile. It's a tone used when nudging an asset in the right direction: one in this case that Steve already knows. Fury tends to know things.

"There are times when I must, yes," the Director answers Hastings, with a jovial quality, though he has a stark, hard core to him and to his handshake when he greets Hastings. He addresses his concerns in order. "The tests are in progress; we like to confirm and be certain, around here," Fury answers. No concrete result yet. The next part, he can address, though.

"You would prefer to be alive? Yes, we can set that ball in motion. Check in with Deputy Director Hill's office tomorrow morning, sometime after 0700."

Fury then returns his gaze to Steve, and some of that chilly stare returns. Fury has a way of inflicting an unblinking stare that conveys volumes. "Continue to ghost me, Captain, and we may need another resurrection," he says, with a dry 'joke', but also a clear statement of him leaving. Fury begins to move away, with a subtle sound clearly summoning him from the vicinity of his earpiece.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Nothing new there, sir," returns the Captain to Fury with the mildest hint of knowing amusement at delegation. He continues to hold himself with that silent self-confidence as he observes how Hastings interacts with Fury and vice-versa. It's a silent measuring of Hastings, at least; Fury, he's known long enough to have his measure of the man.

When that dead-fish look returns to Steve, he doesn't quite mirror it. Barnes would recognize the outer pane of his poise as something just shy of unruffled saintliness. "Sir, yes sir." There's not an iota of an apology present in tone. It's all plain acknowledgement and subtle proof that whatever Steve was involved in at the time merited, in the Captain's opinion, more attention than the pinging of the Director. He accents his response with a curt nod.

Daniel Hastings has posed:
There's a mild arch of a brow as Hastings shifts his regard between the pair of them. "I think that's my cue." And so he takes up his towel and wipes his face with it before flipping it over his shoulder. "Director, thank you for your time. Captain.. until next time." He smiles gives a curt nod to each. Then.. the air starts to fold in on itself around the edges.. only to suddenly pop back to normalcy. Except that the good doctor is gone. Vanished. Probably back in his room to get a shower. If one is to have a date, one must be presentable after all.

Nick Fury has posed:
Director Fury simply looked at Hastings as he busily headed off. That left a pocket of 'alone time' of Fury with Captain Rogers. "Keep me updated," is what Fury says, in his knowing way. He may or may not be another step ahead of Steve. Hard to know for certain: Fury tends to have secrets about secrets. "When you're /able/ to."