milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Fury is sitting at the bar, reading the screen he was offered. It caused a raised eyebrow or two at first, but he read it all the same.

"Thank you," he says to the bar, and carefully makes a selection.

Nothing visible happens.

The ball offers him a drink in a lowball glass, and he sits back and opens the book he brought with him.

(On the tab board, the name 'Mr. Fisher' appears.)

[OOC: I'm out for the night, and will hopefully pick up tags tomorrow.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, this is certainly...festive, in a middle school shop class kind of way.

Forgive Olivia for not paying close attention, though: after dismissing her own screen with a, "No, thank you," Bar gave her a note along with her glass of whiskey. She's frowning deeply as she reads the two sentences over and over, dragging a thumbnail along the edge of one of the Reischmarks.

Fury flicks a quick look at her over the top of his book. He sets his glass down with a barely audible clunk before speaking.

"Good to see you again, Agent Dunham."

She looks up quickly, folding the note closed in the same beat. After another second, she manages an uncertain smile.

"You too, sir," she says. "...It was Nick, wasn't it?"

"It still is," he informs her. "For now, anyways. What's going on?"

She shakes her head, quickly, tucking the note (and coins) into her suit pocket. "Nothing."

Nothing she's fully prepared to talk about, anyway. Especially to a near-stranger.

"How have you been?"

"Busy. But that's pretty usual. And you? You on or off duty?"

He does glance at her suit. She was wearing something very different last time.

She shapes a wry smile, tapping the side of her whiskey glass. "At the moment? Off-duty. It's...been busy enough back home without resuming any side projects here."

"Your 'breaches in reality' acting up again?" Not exactly a comforting thought.

"Need a refill?"

"I might in a bit," she allows. "No, that was..."

Olivia rubs her forehead, a bit fitfully.

"The last time you met me was under much more complex circumstances than usual."

"How so?" He sets down his book this time, picking up his glass to take a sip. She's got his full attention.

A soundless sigh. Olivia retrieves her own glass, but doesn't drink yet.

"The short version," she says, "is I was kidnapped and manipulated into believing I was someone else, while another woman took my place back home."

He stares flatly at her for a moment.

"That's the short version? You definitely need a refill, then."

She huffs out a laugh that doesn't have any humor to it.

"Thanks," she says, no less dry. "So...yeah, the last time I met you, I thought I was an Olivia Dunham from the next universe over. The brainwashing broke after a few weeks, obviously."

The good thing about pocketing that letter: Olivia can't give herself away by glancing down at it right then.

"But you still remember everything. That's good. I'd hate to think I'm forgettable."

Fury leans an elbow on the bar. "So that wasn't really your first time here."

"Not even a little," she says. "I'd actually spent a significant amount of time in here -- done some light research, even told my team about it."

"Really," he says. "If I had my way, no one back home would find out about this place. Much less from me."

Olivia quirks a wan smile.

"My real team might not be as...intense as the other one," she says, "but something like this could still be cause for concern. I thought it'd be better if they knew."

A beat passes, then: "Is that why you advised me not to tell anyone, the last time we met?"

"Place like this, it's better kept off the books. Officially, anyway. A person could get into a shitload of trouble from all sides if an ambitious military organization caught wind of Milliways."

He's silent for a moment, letting that thought sink in.

"You seemed like you had enough trouble."

She inclines her head, accepting the answer -- and the implications behind it -- without a flinch.

"I appreciate the concern," she says. "Especially considering that in this case, it would have added a lot more trouble."

She can't imagine what would happen if the Other Side, still convinced of a need for revenge, came charging into her world via Milliways.

"I liked you," Fury says easily. "You were professional, collected, and relatively at ease despite the situation. I don't see why that should change, even if you weren't yourself at the time."

Olivia smiles, quick but undeniably pleased. "Thank you."

Nick directing all his compliments toward her ability to do her job: even more appreciated than his concern.

A beat passes before she adds, already telegraphing her expectation that he won't give her a straight answer: "So if I asked what your own job usually involves..."

"You can ask," he offers, magnanimous.

He empties his drink.

"Or you can guess, and I'll tell you if you're getting warm."

Wow, comments the corner of her brain still full of Red's sardonic amusement, he must really like you.

She studies him, propping her chin in one hand after a moment's thought. "You debriefed me like the head of my department, the last time I was here," she said. "You had a pretty good idea of what I was talking about -- like you'd encountered it before outside of Milliways. So either you're really good at faking your way through a conversation..."

Not likely, says the undertone to those words.

"...or you're dealing with some of the same unexplained phenomena I am. Either in a military or law enforcement capacity."

"Getting warm," he says. "But I am pretty good at bullshitting."

Dryly amused: "Sometimes it comes with the work, huh."