769/How to say this...

How to say this...
Date of Scene:	26 March 2020
Location:	Shop Classroom - Happy Harbor High School
Synopsis:	A difficult talk, new feelings, and a gift is exchanged. But where, inquiring minds want to know, is Bear?
Cast of Characters:	Samuel Morgan, Damian Wayne

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Samuel Morgan has posed:
    How do you balance a budding friendship, possibly even a relationship, with the absolute need for secrecy? It's a question Sam has been asking himself ever since the mission briefing, and the time to find an answer is growing short. In a few days he's boarding a plane and jumping into the Democratic People's Republic of Korea on a mission of sabotage. And in true Mission Impossible style, his existence will be disavowed if caught...

    Not something that he's ever worried about before. Pretty standard fare on all HYDRA kill-team missions.

    But back in those days, when everything seemed so simple, when the only consideration was his target and the image in his scope, he'd never had to worry about... well, someone else. Someone who might actually give a damn about his survival. At least, not in the way he has started to worry about it now. It's practically unprofessional.

    The text to Damian's phone simply said 'We need to talk. Meet me at the HH Shop. Sam.' short and suitably cryptic should the message be intercepted.

    In the meantime, the teenage mutant is working on his pet project at Happy Harbor, pulling out all the stops now that he doesn't have to break for students coming in and gawking. He has all his time to devote to the Suit... except for training at the Triskellion, of course.

    And fretting. Can't forget fretting.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     The text was plain and simple. Damian didn't care for any extra details, nor did he fret on the issue behind it.

  So, he had a driver bring him to the school, simple as that.

  The black haired teen opens the door, and dressed in what he considered 'casual' clothes, he appeared. The only thing missing from the three piece suit was the blazer. White shirt, black vest, blue tie, and spit-shined black shoes.

  "Sam." He said, his usual greeting.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Damian."

    The reply is immediate, even though Sam is still behind a welding mask and the arc welder is very much spitting sparks in the far corner. Plates galore, many of them looking not just welded up but already sanded and sealed, ready to be bolted onto the framework armor standing in the corner. By itself... plugged into the shop's high voltage outlet, batteries charging. A few more sparks and the teenager flips the mask up, looking somewhat fondly over to his visitor. "Glad you could make it. Can I get you a drink? Choices are mountain dew and mountain dew, I'm afraid."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian looks around the shop, raising a brow to the framed armor in the corner. "I do not drink soda." Yep, that's right. He only made an exception to the punch at the prom.

  "Making a suit of armor?" He says, looking to the plates, then motioning back to the framework.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Water then, a sealed bottle?" Honestly, Sam is just looking for a way to break the ice. As per etiquette, he started by offering a drink, helping himself to two bottles of chilled water from a cooler before booting it shut again. Despite being in working clothes, and his coverall being marred with scorch marks, oil and chemicals, his boots have been shined to mirror perfection. A bottle is offered up, with a raised eyebrow.

    "Yeah, I'm ... not happy being on the sidelines. So I'm building myself some protection for when I inevitably go out again. Clears my head to work on things." Bear is fairly conspicuously absent. "Look, I... I have to ... there's something.... Ah shit, how am I going to say this?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Very well then." He answers, taking the bottle gently as it is offered. The distinct crack of the seal breaking echoes, before he takes a drink.

  "And you do not believe you can hold your own without an exoskeleton?" Only slightly judgey there. "I doubt you needed one before..." He trails off, examining the armor's frame.

  As the blonde haired young man keeps on, Damian's short of glowing green eyes pierce the air between the two. He notes the stance, the vocal intonations. To normal people, this could be seen as growing bored or frustrated, but he merely is observing intensely.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Although he took a bottle of his own, Sam isn't cracking the seal yet. His fingers drum on the plastic side for a moment in an open display of agitation. He seems frustrated, even bewildered, the look of a professional who has just been daunted by something that has always come as easy as breathing. "I can hold my own without a suit of powered armor." he mentions, his look brightening to amusement for a moment. "But I would still like some insurance against the more ... exotic threats. Aliens, Asgardians, that sort of thing. Not to mention, I'm not bullet proof, this thing is."

    The comment momentarily cleared his head, and he breathes out while he finally, at long last, twists the cap on the bottle and breaks the seal. "I might be out of the country for a while. Around the weekend. If things go well, I might not be reachable for a few days, I might not come back until somewhere around Monday. If things don't go well..." And he leaves it at that. They're both professional enough to understand what that means. He hides his apprehension with a gulp of water.

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Then like you said." Damian says, approaching Sam one step at a time. "You" step "hold" step "your" step "own." By the time he was finished, he was right next to Sam. "You know who you are." He says, looking him over. "And you know you are capable."

  The unspoken truth of what he is admitting to had been understood, if Damian knew anything, it was the art of deception. Social cues, not so much, but when someone was avoiding saying something, he knew what was up. His face grew just a little blushed before he acted, but he reached up for Sam's hand.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    By the time Damian is that close to Sam, the teenager is already... blushing? Really?! He's not used to showing real emotions, and this one hits him hard and unexpected. Without hesitation, he takes Damian's hand and smiles, looking into the other teen's bright green eyes.

    "Yessir. I do not have permission not to return, understood." A squeeze and then he tones down the levity, a tad more serious. "I wish I could tell you all about it. But I can't. There's so many things I'm not allowed to tell you and it sucks."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     "Then don't say." Damian said plainly. He did care what would happen to Sam. But he also wasn't going to worry about it. He knew what Scorpio was, and Sam knew what Damian was before this life.

  Damian also knew there was already things he couldn't tell Sam about. He just did not have the guilty conscience telling him is wasn't fair.

  The warmth of their hands clasped together was an unusual feeling for the scion of the Wayne family. He was still not used to the contact, but yet he subconsciously yearned for it.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I won't then. But I'll tell you this much..." And Sam squeezes Damian's hand again, smiling now. His bottle is entirely forgotten, as, it seems, is most of the workshop. With a single step, he closes the last of the distance and pulls his other arm around Damian, holding him as close as he dares without risking a sudden violent reaction. "... I've never had to worry about anyone missing me before. But then... I also never had a reason to come back before."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Not a violent reaction, but there was one. For a split second as Sam wrapped his arm around Damian, he flinched just a bit, stopping himself as his reflex acted.

  He looked down, not ashamed, he lacked that bit of himself, but he knew he did not want to be in assassin mode all the time. He wanted to feel...like they felt at the Prom. "I..." He could talk about others all the time, but talking about himself, was a completely different story. "will be looking forward to your coming back." He finally allows himself to admit.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It's a new sensation for Sam as well, but one that's rapidly becoming a powerful motivator. He sees the flinch, and ignores it, knowing that Damian can see the tension in him as well. This whole posture, this embrace, it leaves him vulnerable. Worse, it leaves him vulnerable /through choice/ and that's something that's supposed to be anathema to their training. But holding that warm hand, feeling Damian so close, Sam doesn't care.

    "I'll try not to keep you waiting."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     Damian stood there, feeling the closeness of Sam. He just wanted to stay there for as long as possible. But he did want to do something for Sam. He pulled back, only long enough to give him the proper room, and to show this was not against Sam.

  He flexed his foot, and from the sole of his shoe, popped a stiletto. It was an old trick, but one that served him well, never be without a weapon. Always keep something on you to get you out of a bad situation.

  A swift tug on the blade, and the tang pops out of the spring lock. He holds the blade, and offers it to Sam, tang towards his friend. "Keep it on you." Yes, it was a twisted gift, but an honest expression of Damian's care.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Space. He gives Damian space when it becomes necessary, and is about to make his apologies when it become apparent that no apologies will be necessary, and a moment later the knife appears. There should be a half grin on Sam's face, some kind of acknowledgement that this kind of thing is fairly absurd in most circles.

    But there's none of that.

    With a smile, he accepts the heartfelt gift, taking the slim blade between his fingers for a moment and then twisting it around in a flurry of motion, the sharp steel disappearing into his sleeve in a display of prestidigitation. "I'll never be without it."

Damian Wayne has posed:
     The black haired boy cracked a small smile, a very overt sign of happiness that didn't come easy for him. "Good." He said, before he joined back for a warm embrace. "Where is Bear anyway?" he asks, finally realizing the dog hadn't been there the whole time.