milliways_bar | (no subject)

Planning's one of the most important parts of any good mission, and this one matters more than most. He'd sent out a few feelers through secret channels, fishing for contacts, fishing for information ... fishing with himself as both the lure and the hidden hook.

Earlier today, someone had finally taken a nibble. He'd taken the intel he needed from the dead body.

Now, his waiting's done. It's time for the next step.

But before he goes, there are a couple of things he needs to do, just in case. Where he's going, he can't count on having ready access to Milliways, and among other things, he's made a promise.

James strolls into the bar dressed like a nondescript civilian - jeans, short-sleeved dark blue t-shirt under a black jacket, black boots - and glances around the room before heading to the bar.

"Coffee," he requests, and sets down a few dollars cash, plus a small envelope. "The note's for Jay. The mechanic. You know him, right?"

Evidently Bar does, for the envelope vanishes into her keeping. James nods his thanks and takes a seat with a good view of the room, keeping an eye out for anyone he might know... or who might know him.

[ooc: open until it scrolls.]

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Steve has been hanging around the bar a lot lately. (Just sort of quietly, in the background.)

There are a few faces he's always happy to see. Bucky's is one of them.

He approaches Bucky with a casual, "Mind if I join you?" as he takes his sketchbook out of his jacket pocket.

He pushes out the next stool over with his foot.

"Sure," he says, just as casually.

"Whatcha drawing tonight?"

"The continuing adventures of the Growling Commandos," Steve says as he opens the sketchbook. "I'm thinking I might put it online anonymously or soemthing, see what people think.

"Chocolate egg cream," he tells the Bar.

The Clint who backs into the bar, opening it with his shoulder, is part-way through eating a doughnut with his left hand and a Styrofoam cup full of instant coffee in his left hand.

Clint leans up against the counter near him, dropping off his coffee to be immediately rewarded with a mug of much better coffee. He grins at James, and raises the mug to him in acknowledgement before taking a grateful sip. "Morning."

At some point, the door to the more nature-filled Outside of Milliways opens, and a familiar redhead and her dog come through. She's wearing her Christmas presents from him, although it's not really cold enough right now to warrant all of them with her jacket.

(It's possible she kinda doesn't like feeling cold right now.

She figures she's earned it.)

"Anonymously, huh?"

James slants a look at him.

"What, you don't want your fame attached to your art?"

"Morning," he says, nodding a hello.

(Hey, if the other guy can be casual, so can he.)

He glances at the doughnut, then back at Clint.

"Breakfast?"

James smiles, sudden and bright.

"Rikki, hi."

"Oddly enough, no," Steve says easily. "I'm hopeful people read it because they like it, not because it's drawn by Captain America."

She grins back at him while Benji trots up to snuffle at his legs. "Hey. How've you been?"

"Not bad," he allows, and reaches down to ruffle the pup behind his ears. "How about you?"

"Guess I can understand that."

He takes a sip of coffee.

"They probably will, though."

"I make a mean waffle, but free doughnuts are free doughnuts."

"I'm okay. I have, you know, usable thumbs again, which is always a plus."

Also a new uniform from Natasha.

"As long as they're not stale," he returns, utterly deadpan.

"That's why I want to do it anonymously, for as long as I can."

He pauses a moment, his pencil darkening a line before he starts drawing something new.

"Fame is weird, Buck. It's even weirder now than it used to be."

"Yeah, that's a real plus."

James pushes out a chair with one booted foot, and glances from it to her in clear invitation.

"Makes getting around easier, for one."

"Yeah?"

James looks at him.

"How so?"

"It's like... It's like people think they own you, somehow. Like they know you, like they think it's okay to tell you what to say and how to act. It's like living in a glass box."

He adds, "Though the people who are protective of me are kind of sweet."

Clint considers this, and half-shrugs as he finishes his doughnut off. He sucks the last bit of glaze off of his thumb philosophically.

"Still free, though." Turning down doughnuts never got anyone ahead in life.

"What, you're living it up with crepes and fancy omelettes?"

His expression darkens, a little.

"Like they own you," he says. "Like you're just -- there for what they want?"

A beat.

"Guess they're out of luck."

James takes a sip of his coffee and studies Clint over the mug for a second.

"I strike you as a fancy omelette kind of guy?"

"Like that, yeah."

He smiles at Bucky. "Guess they are."

He nods back, and manages to smile, a little.

"So. What are the Commandos up to lately?"

"There's weirder things."

Clint's not hiding a smile with his coffee mug. Yeah.

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