8107/Ketchup and Catch Up

Ketchup and Catch Up
Date of Scene:	03 October 2021
Location:	Mel's Roadside Diner
Synopsis:	Hellboy and Cap reminisce over lunch...and pancakes.
Cast of Characters:	Hellboy, Steve Rogers

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Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy ducks under the doorway and sidles into the diner. He holds the door open for Steve, since they came together. Hellboy doesn't wear anything identifying him as a SHIELD agent. He has enough people staring for both his demonic appearance and for the fact that he's at least a minor celebrity. Finding an empty booth, the tall, red man slumps down and picks up the menu waiting in the place setting.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The nice thing about Mel's diner-- it's at that spot where it's just close enough to the Triskelion to reach it for lunch, but far enough away that one isn't going to run into legions of uniformed personnel stopping in for a bite to eat.

"Thanks, HB," Steve murmurs. He's dressed in his usual, understated way; SHIELD's navy-blue fatigues, with no sign of rank and 'ROGERS' emblazed over his right breast. His hat's pulled off reflexively once they're indoors.

Any surprised glances shot Hellboy's direction are intercepted with a polite nod and smile, and Steve moves to the same table with a purposefully nonchalant stride. "Gotta say, it's nice to be back in the Triskelion," Steve remarks. His hat's set on the bench next to him. There's a little work needed for the two men to sit at the table, but they get it sorted. Steve's far from petite, but next to Hellboy even he looks on the short side. "I'm getting spoiled by having air conditioning and decent coffee again," he grins.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy lets out a soft 'hmph'. "Soon as Global Warming really gets going, I'm moving to Miami to have the place all to myself." It's just barely beyond deadpan. Hellboy puts down the menu and orders a glass of milk when the waitress comes around. He decides to be a bit more of an old-timey gentleman, standing to take off his huge, nebulous coat before sitting back down. His tight tee-shirt is a bit more revealing than Steve's very professional uniform, but he is doing his best to have manners suitable for company of a man of Steve's generation. Hats and coats came off.
    Once he's sitting again, Hellboy says, "It's nice to have a moment to just be. Couple guys like us--been around a while--getting pancakes." Hellboy shrugs. "Or whatever."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"You've technically been around longer than me, y'know," Steve says, grinning at Hellboy's observation. "I may remember Brumenthold in his twenties, but you've had a lot of years to grow up since then," he points out. The menu's glanced at once, and set down. Force of habit; Steve memorizd it forever the first time he looked at it. He could probably tell you what a similar meal would have cost in 1940, rations and all. "A few years on the front don't seem like they'd stack up to you and the BPRD cleaning house on the unholies for the last fifty-odd years."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy takes everything in stride until Steve mentions the BPRD. He lets that roll and says, "I can never keep track of who knows of my department." He is significantly less intellectual about the menu, of course. He just checked that pancakes were available and that breakfast was served all day. Boom. Done. "Would, uh--" Hellboy looks around a bit, leaning forward. He hesitates. "All I know is I've never been un-sworn to secrecy, so I don't talk about it in public." He lets that sit. He quickly changes the topic, knowing Cap is smarter than he lets on and will definitely get it. "Besides, I have years in between, but knowing you come from as far back as I do, give or take--well, it makes me feel less like I'm surrounded by frail old men and children, you know?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Not sure I'd say that around Peg," Steve tells Hellboy with a grin. "But the point's taken. There aren't a lot of guys from the 107th who are still around besides me an' Bucky. Not a lot of them from The War at all," he admits with a glimpse of sadness. "Seventy years is a long time."

He blinks out of his reverie, focuses on Hellboy. "I guess it's a bit different for me for that reason though," he points out. "I've only been off the ice a few years though. Much as I like playing bridge with the boys at the Veteran's Center, they've got whole lives behind them. Kids, grandkids, great-grandkids, even." He eyes Hellboy. "And at the rate you're gaining wrinkles, I've got a feeling you'll be telling /my/ great-grandkids stories about me someday."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy smirks and grunts out a single laugh from a chuckle. "Here's hoping," he says, lifting his milk as it's set down next to him. He orders just ALL the bloomin' pancakes. "Hey," he says when they're alone, "you think it would be alright if I went with you to hang out with your 107th buddies? They don't know me, and I can't stand bridge, but when they go, at least, you'll have someone to talk to who knew them."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I think some of them would probably put two and two together if they saw you," Steve says with an apologetic grin. "You kind of stand out. Don't forget, the Howling Commandos were officially part of the 107th. So the whole brigade saw a lot during the war. It won't take them long to warm up to you. They're not gonna mob you for autographs or anything, if that's what you're worried about."

He orders a short stack and sausages, and leans back in his seat once the waitress leaves. "You havin' a hard time making friends at SHIELD?" he inquires, and his tone ameliorates any idea that offense is intended. "Government types aren't like soldiers, they can be a bit standoffish."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy smirks. "Me?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "I'm the very definition of charismatic charm." He leans back and gets more serious, though one is hard-pressed to tell with that face of his. "As for your buddies, I figure they'll accept me as easily as iPads and the internet, right?" He shifts his glass, putting a napkin under it. "I'm just trying to be there for you, Cap."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve chuckles, shaking his head. "I appreciate it, HB, I do," he says sincerely. "But don't worry about me. I think I've more or less found my footing. I finally even figured out emojis. Which thrilled Janet to no end, I'm not texting her back with 'what?' every third sentence." He shakes his head ruefully and laughs.

"So..." he gives Hellboy a speculative look, fingers drumming once on the table. "Is that what part of the problem is? Feeling like the people at SHIELD aren't going to respect you?"

Hellboy has posed:
    "Actually," Hellboy says, "SHIELD folks are very professional. They get wary, but there are mutants who make me look normal." He taps the butt of his fork on the table a bit. "With everything going on, as long as I behave, nobody seems to care. Now," he says, "in the wild, I'm a comic book star. That Mythbusters guy replicated Samaritan in his workshop." He moves his glass as the food comes.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve nods approvingly at Hellboy's assessement. "I read a couple of those comics. They're better than the ones they did of me back in the fifties," he grins. "Socking Adolph on the jaw and all. I did that a few times when I was selling war bonds, sure, but if you want stories about Hitler-- well, check the SHIELD archives about how he finally went down. Or, ask Diana," he suggests. "She's the one who got the last word in edgewise where das Fuhrer was concerned." Some men might be jealous of Diana's claim to fame there, but Steve sounds nothing but proud of his friend.

Hellboy has posed:
    "Have I met Diana?" Hellboy says with a nod of acknowledgement and a furrowed brow. He finally shakes his head. "I can't keep track of everyone who's sprung up over the decades." He knocks on the table with his left hand before pointing at Steve. "Just glad we got the chance to pal around. Not gonna be a creeper and ask for an intro. I'd hate to make Lara jealous."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I'm pretty sure you met her, but you were a lot smaller then," Steve says with a crooked grin. "And she's been keeping incognito the last few decades. It's only recently she started calling herself Wonder Woman again."

Steve pushes the last of his sausage through a river of syrup and finishes them off. "Anyway-- Lara, then?" he inquires, shifting topics with a lift of one brow. "She's a firecracker. Glad to hear you two hit it off after the range the other day."

Hellboy has posed:
    "Yeah," Hellboy says with a sly grin. "Gave her flowers. We hung out at her place. Been helping each other with artifact stuff. You know, normal stuff...oh," he adds, "and I got her chocolates. I don't know if we're going steady, but I've done enough that I know I'm not supposed to be hanging out alone with other women." He shrugs. "Unless I'm punching their faces in, I mean."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Don't ask me for advice, I still don't know what I'm doing with Janet half the time," Steve says. Palms uplift in surrender. "But roses, chocolates, and avoiding compromising situations sounds like a good start. But it's good to hear you two are connecting," he assures Hellboy, and grins encouragingly. "Though I've got a feeling she's the sort of gal who's gonna get you into more trouble than you'll pull her into. It's pretty rare to see her going at anything less than full throttle."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy shrugs. "I want to do more stuff with you, but the only thing I can think of is baseball, and I can't stand baseball. It's so slow. Maybe I should talk about relics and stuff. I really am looking to find things to have a new Samaritan-like weapon built. Gonna probably need to destroy a few artifacts to do it, though. You seemed to have your ear to the ground when it came to that type of stuff."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Relics I don't know much about," Steve concedes. "That was always a little out of my wheelhouse. But guns, well, that's part and parcel of being a soldier," he chuckles. "Always interesting to see what the latest and greatest is, and the young guys-- you know, they're just always innovating things and jumping into deep water. Best advice Bucky ever gave me, always know how to talk about common interests, and every soldier loves a football game and a nice rifle."

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy nods, seemingly in agreement. "I can get behind football," he says. "I kind of need something one-handed, firearm-wise," he says. He holds up his Right Hand of Doom, spreading his stony fingers. "I can't even answer my phone with this thing without breaking it." He sets his hand down against the seat next to him. "Samaritan has served me well, but it was made out of relics. I could get by with something mundane, and it probably wouldn't jam as much, but when I'm going toe to toe with a baby-eating hag, I kind of want the extra oomph behind my cold-iron shots."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Bit outside my pay grade there, but I understand the part about 'extra oomph'," Steve assures Hellboy. "Ask the eggheads at the labs, I'm sure they'd be happy to cook something up special for you. Or at least get the old Samaritan running again. Might just have a gremlin or something in it," he grins.

The waitress comes by with the tab; Steve smoothly snakes the ticket, glances at it, and counts out bills from his wallet enough for both meals and gratuity aside. "Keep the change," he tells the waitress with a smile.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy considers for a moment. "Maybe," he says. "It has been a while since I've had it exorcised." He watches Steve pay without even asking. "Is it time to go back to work already?" he asks. "Seems like there's never enough time to just hang out with a pal." Careful word choice, there. Hopefully, his slang isn't TOO old.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Duty never sleeps," Steve agrees, wryly. "But that's why there's the VFW," Steve reminds Hellboy. "First and third Saturday, every month. If you want, I can check the rolls and see if any of the boys from the Commandos are in the area. Not sure if you've kept up with any of them, but I'm sure there's at least one or two of the old gang that kept up with Brumholde over the years. I can see if they'll come out for a game of cards some night," he offers.

Hellboy has posed:
    Hellboy nods. "I appreciate that," he says. He slides out of the booth and drags his coat out until he can shrug it on, the huge thing hanging off him. How does anyone that big 'swim' in any garment? "Not really my thing, though. If they want to talk, we can talk. Otherwise, I was really only asking about the 107th so you'd have someone when one of your buddies kicks the bucket." Hellboy's pocket vibrates. He stuffs his hand into it and pulls it out. He sighs. "Duty texts," he says. A beat. "I gotta head to Mutant Town. Let's catch a movie sometime, huh? You pick."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Well, I appreciate the thought," Steve promises Hellboy. "And a movie-- good times. I'll let you know when I get a day free," he tells the big red guy. "You go save Mutant Town, I'll head back to the Triskelion and make sure the world doesn't end because we're out of printer toner or something." Steve dons a pair of aviator glasses, grinning, and swings a leg over his Indian. The throttle opens, the engine roars, and Steve smoothly accelerates out into the street and back towards the distant building.