6153/It's Been a Long Time...

It's Been a Long Time...
Date of Scene:	07 May 2021
Location:	Director's Office - Playground
Synopsis:	An unexpected old friend shows up in Peggy's office. She welcomes him back and gives him a book... And a room in the Playground.
Cast of Characters:	James Barnes, Peggy Carter

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James Barnes has posed:
The lights are off, save for the dim glow of a reading lamp on the desk. Mostly concealed in shadow is a figure, seated on the visitor's side of the desk. At first he is little more than an amorphous mass of shadow, but as the eyes adjust so does he gain a little more detail. A man, judging by his outline. Dark hair, cropped relatively short. He's dressed in shades of charcoal, the sort that are not so black as to paradoxically stand out in the dark. Something simple and enough to not draw attention. He's reading something, an old book that is the only thing properly captured in the pool of the lamp's yellowing light. The cover shows the title and author - The Reivers: A Reminiscence by William Faulkner. When he lifts his hand to turn the page, the lamp catches fingers made of silvery steel.

Peggy Carter has posed:
While Peggy was Director of SHIELD for 35 years straight, it's still been a new thing to be the Chief, especially of the one solid home base they have now. Modern day. The first time since she was unfrozen that she's had this much power over such a hallowed space. So, when she opens the door to her office, she isn't thinking anyone unexpected will be in the darkened room. The moment she sees a figure though, she stops. A few heartbeats of analysis -- is this an assassin. Who got through the hallowed, secret halls of the Playground? Then she's considering the profile. One she knows.

After a few more moments, she calmly comes around her desk and turns on the banker's lamp she uses instead of the overhead lights. She looks up to the figure, trying to confirm the face. A small smile cuts across her lips as her suspicion is right. "....You cut your hair. Finally. You Beatnick." She teases him gently before turning to her electric kettle to put on hot water. Enough for both of them. "Glad you found the place."

James Barnes has posed:
"I did," Barnes replies evenly, instinctively reaching up a hand to run it through his cut hair, "Figured it was time for a new look."

He closes the book with a dull thud, dropping it into the open canvas duffle bag that rests on the floor at his feet. He shrugs his shoulders a little at her words, fishing a black gove from his pocket and tugging it on over that metal hand of his. When done, he clutches the arm of the chair he is in and leans forward. Never wholly relaxed, always alert.

"It wasn't easy. It's not like they list it in the yellow pages. Not to mention getting an unchaperoned leave of absence is like pulling teeth. But ... yeah. Found it."

Peggy Carter has posed:
When he mentions an unchaperoned leave of absense, Peggy looks up from the tea cart, staring over him for a few moments of geniune concern. She studies his face, a slightly deeper frown crossing her lips. Then she looks down. No dog at his side. Her frown deepens. It makes her look her 100 years old (as of just a month ago, not even), instead of the 30-something her body seems.

"My burner phone was still good. You could have texted... if you remember how to do that. But..." Peggy breathes out quietly, stepping back to her desk to lean against her chair while she waits for the kettle to finish. "I'm...glad to see you. How bad is it? I suppose it's better if the government still considers you on puppet strings and not... just a rogue criminal like the rest of us."

James Barnes has posed:
"I hate those damn things," he answers with a wave of his hand, "A phone's a phone. All the ... bells and whistles. Just begging to be looked at, all hours. No. No."

He shifts in the seat again, clasping his hands between his spread knees and leveling his blue gaze at Peggy. He watches the tea cart for a moment, as though considering some thought or memory that has ambushed him somewhere in the mental landscape. But she shrugs it off just as quickly.

"I'm officially an 'asset'. They know there's a command string, but they don't know what it is so they have to play ball ... for the most part. It's basically just the old point and shoot, but with a few extra steps."

His eyes follow hers to the vacant spot at his feet that might normally be occupied by a therapy dog.

"He's fine, if that's what you're wondering. Just has a new home now."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A bittersweet but uncomfortably understanding smile comes across Peggy's features as he mentions the dog. She gives a slight nod, "I knew you'd do right by him, still... He was... good." A slight, sad breath escapes her lips, but that's it. Despite the fancy wrap dress she wears and the high heels, it's the sound of an old soldier who understands. She knows they don't get nice things. They don't get comfort, at the end of it all.

As she waits for the water to heat, still hovering near the tea cart, she mutters quietly, "It's still the gunpowder black, just like Russia... I... have nicer things, if you want, but that's what I brew." Parts of her have never left the war, but she doesn't show them to a lot of people. He's one of the few that still gets to see those cracks.

Then she turns more to him, something softening behind her eyes as she studies his face. The changes. The hardness that has returned. Her ever-red lips set into a bit of a line before she asks quietly, "So why come? If you still have that string... this risks what freedom you have. Why come?"

James Barnes has posed:
"I never even drank tea until after I shipped out for the first time," Bucky answers with a wave of his hand, still watching the preparations at the tea cart, "I'm not a connoisseur. Just as long as it doesn't feel like I'm drinking a melted popsicle, I'm sure it'll be fine."

The question seems like one he expected. He raises his eyebrows, looking off into the middle distance with a nod of his head as he briefly tucks his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn't answer straight away, though the words come easily as though they've been waiting in the wings to be said.

"I spent about ... seventy years, give or take, on ice. They're not putting me on ice this time, so I guess I need something to do in all the times when someone isn't pulling the trigger. Steve's got the Avengers, I've got a walkabout. Besides, it gives me time to read. I'm working through all the Pulitzer Prize winners I missed. Hard to get time to read when someone wants to ask you about some Hydra facility in Tselinoyarsk that you spent a week in forty years ago."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Did you finally finish the Silmarillion?... You were so excited and then we hit those storms and the caravan got bombed..." Peggy's words started with teasing. She remembers the book he brought. Tolkien and elves. A few of the boys teased him. She was interested. But when anything gets destroyed, it mattered a lot. And then he was gone. By the end of her statement, it's an honest question. A worried one.

"It's good to see you." The kettle goes off. Or, not quite. She hears the vibrations just before it whistles and she dashes over before the shrill scream starts. She knows the loud, harsh sounds can go wrong. She's sharp enough not to let it happen. She pulls it off the element before that can happen. If he's watching incredibly closely, he'll see an unsteady, unhealthy shake to her hand that wasn't there before. Something is breaking down, but she hands his mug off to him with the gunpowder black steeping before it gets too bad. Before she can spill anything. But something is off. Then she takes her own and settles into the chair across from him. "We cleaned out the rest of HYDRA in SHIELD. Figured it out. Removed them. Cleaned up the rest of their... leavings. It's clear here. I feel like I can breathe in my own home for the first time since they woke me up. But...everywhere else..." She shrugs sadly. She's so tired.

James Barnes has posed:
"I did," he says with a nod and a tight-lipped smile, "I heard there's more, too. One of the, uh, eggheads put them on a ... tablet computer thing for me? But I left it behind, I guess."

He offers a semi-resentful smirk at her rushing to keep the kettle from whistling. He sucks air in through his teeth, hands still gripping together in his lap.

"I'm not a bomb about to go off, you know. You don't need to - " he waves a hand vaguely at the car, though he nevertheless lets himself trail off.

"Yep. I'm sure they looked gone. But from what I've heard, they looked gone just after the War, too."

He sighs, shaking his head and bringing his unaltered arm up to wipe his jaw.

"Sorry, Peggy. I'm - I don't know. I have a hard time believing all's right with the world. No matter how many colorful costumes they have running around."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A bittersweet smile cuts across her features as she sinks back into her chair. Peggy shakes her head quietly. "Nothing is right with the world. Nothing. SHIELD? I have cleaned my back yard. Fifty years too late and too many losses. But this..." She looks back to the halls. "My yard is clean. I cannot speak for the world. Half them think Nazis are the good guys and HYDRA is on their side. I can't scream loud enough, they will lock me away. Nothing... is right... with the world." Peggy looks so tired. But she seems honest as well. She believes it about her yard. Finally.

She then reaches into one of her lower desk drawers and pulls out two thin, old books. There is a thicker one in front of it, unneeded by him it seems. But these have been waiting. She passes them across the table to him, pages dog eared, probably a few notes in the margins. But they are vintage books. She gives him the Ainulindale and Valaquenta, "You probably left off somewhere in here. Enjoy. I... was hoping you'd come visit. I won't ask you to stay. No one else deserves to clean up my messes."

James Barnes has posed:
Bucky reaches out to take the books, clasping one in each hand and looking them over quietly. For a moment there's a genuine smile on his face. Not the wry thing created by scepticism and years of trauma, but something like the young man he was finding something truly pleasant in life. It's gone as soon as it arrives, however, and he tucks both books away into the duffel bag at his feet.

"I mean, what would I do if I stayed anyway? I'm no spymaster. I do damage. Either as a scalpel or as a wrecking ball. I'm sure you've got plenty of both."

Peggy Carter has posed:
Seeing that smile from him breaks something in her. It's a little bit of a good break, the cynicism and hardness of a far too long life that can't remain when she sees the genuine baby James Barnes smile. She rebuilds her shields a few heartbeats later, but she's happy to see it. "Enjoy them. I have the other two, but it means you have to come back and visit me to get them." She firmly shuts that very bottom drawer of her desk. A teasing boundary set.

Then he asks about what to do if he stays. Peggy gives a faint shake of her head, dark eyes dropping away from his gaze. "Sometimes I need damage. I don't want YOU to have to be the one to do it. If you stayed... you'd help sneak me half cigarettes out back and make certain no one puts a bullet between my shoulders. But you deserve a retirement too. Just... come visit, sometimes. Maybe I'll get to be a real person again. Some day."

James Barnes has posed:
"Real people? That sounds ... nice. How about we run away together, Agent Carter? You know, I've always wanted to go to Fiji? Seventy years and they never had a reason to send me there. Now I read this ... " he gestures at the computer terminal before continuing, " ... this thing about how it's sinking. Or flooding. Same thing. Might be nice to see it before it goes."

But as he speaks, it becomes more and more clear that he's joking. The sort of bitter joke full of resentment, clear that such things are never an option. He resigned to the fact that any chances of a normal life plunged into frozen waters and drowned the day he lost his arm. Now it's just a brutal grind towards the end.

"Anyway, returning to reality. I could come by, I guess. You still have any pull at SHIELD?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
The question about SHIELD makes Peggy choke out a laugh as close to a bark as any Brit could ever get. It's not that loud, but it's an abrupt laugh. She motions to the room and then the hallway beyond. "This is SHIELD, James. Welcome to what is left of us. They put me in charge again, probably because they don't want to blame anyone else if we all get drug in by our necks. But... here. I'm SHIELD. Again. We're pulling together as best we can. We'll... redeem ourselves. I hope. But here we are." A bittersweet ghost of a smile crosses her face.

"Maybe we can get off to Fiji. If I wasn't in charge of... here, I'd go already. My husband's back. Did you hear that? I don't know how long. It's some time... fuckery. We need to send him back. But I've got a bit of time with him. So, I'm spending it sitting around manning an ancient base now filled with people considered international criminals. But we're doing our best. You...should go take a vacation for me. Tell me how nice the sand is."

James Barnes has posed:
"Husband?" Barnes' eyebrows raise, and he turns his attention to the floor for a moment, "Hell, sounds to me like you should be the one taking a vacation. Not me. Not sure what I'd do, anyway. Read books in a different small room with no window, probably. Not like I'm getting a salary and there's no army back pay laying around for me. They already checked, apparently."

He sits up once more, looking around the room thoughtfully and nodding his head: "Ah, the new SHIELD. Well, in that case, that means you're the one holding the leash. Sorry, I guess I misplaced the code book."

Those last words take a decidedly bitter tone.

"But if this is where it is then I guess .. I'm here now."

Peggy Carter has posed:
When he asks about the husband, something in Peggy's timeline exhausted brain keys into the fact he wouldn't know. Even Steven didn't. A faint smile echoes across her face, "Yes. Got married 1950. He's... a good man. Actually one of the boys you and Steve brought home out of Eastern Europe. Minus half a leg but... He manages." There's a momentary softness behind her eyes as she says that. Love. She genuinely cares for the man, even as she keeps her guard up. And yet, here she sits in her stiff, old office. "You'd like him in spite of yourself." She mutters with a near grin.

But the grin grows as he mentions if this is SHIELD, he's here. It's an honest smile now. She's happy to see him -- to have him. She tilts her head, double checking the look on his face before giving a brief nod, "Well, Lieutenant Barnes... I've got a room for you already. Here." She stands, moving to the door. "Second hall on your left. Three doors down." She's almost magically appeared a key in her hand, passing it over to him. "

James Barnes has posed:
"I don't like anyone," Barnes answers decisively, shaking his head, "But if you like him, least we can be sure he's not a Hydra spy, right?"

When the key is offered, he takes it and rises to his feet. He hefts the duffle bag up with him, slinging it over one shoulder and taking a few steps towards the door. He nods in response to the directions, already memorizing them. He won't need to be told twice.

"Is there a turn-down service? And my boots could use a shine."

Peggy Carter has posed:
A clear roll comes to her eyes and he's getting the most sarcastic smirk he can get from Margaret Carter. And he's earned more than one of those in his time. She swats at his arm, "Smart arse. Your boot always could use a shine and the moment we'd do it you'd take them back through the mud. Go find some polish yourself and a shower, now that you remembered how to cut your hair. Chester would be proud." She's not really teasing there. It's a tribute to both him and the man long dead -- both whom she respected.

But then, just as he's leaving, her hand rests on his shoulder for a heartbeat. The flesh one, of course, so he can feel it. "It's...good to see you, James. I'm glad you're with us. Get... some rest, if you can. We're here if you need us." She pauses, then corrects, "I'm... here. If you need me." Then she lets him go towards the hall. She watches him, the smile on her face subdued but genuine. She feels better now that he's here.