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yeah, what's his phone number then. let me ring up an old pal, why not.
[ kidding aside, though: ]
i'm trying to stay retired, but the world can't seem to stop fucking up long enough to let me have my peace. it's fine. what about you? family doing well with the side gigs?
any side gigs?
[ kidding aside, though: ]
i'm trying to stay retired, but the world can't seem to stop fucking up long enough to let me have my peace. it's fine. what about you? family doing well with the side gigs?
any side gigs?
[»]
———
Yelena, true to her word, shows up at Steve’s that evening. She hopes he doesn’t ask why she is there, she isn’t sure how to put it into words. It’s just— he’s one of the few people that really knew her sister. The woman she had become in the years she had been apart from her. It’s complicated, but grief always is, isn’t it?
She's glad he is amenable to the idea at any rate. It’s better, not being alone, when she can afford the luxury of it.
She grabs one of the small throw pillows and hugs it toward her, “We should watch a movie or something,” she suggests, settling in the corner of the couch.
———
Yelena, true to her word, shows up at Steve’s that evening. She hopes he doesn’t ask why she is there, she isn’t sure how to put it into words. It’s just— he’s one of the few people that really knew her sister. The woman she had become in the years she had been apart from her. It’s complicated, but grief always is, isn’t it?
She's glad he is amenable to the idea at any rate. It’s better, not being alone, when she can afford the luxury of it.
She grabs one of the small throw pillows and hugs it toward her, “We should watch a movie or something,” she suggests, settling in the corner of the couch.
Opening up his home to a friend, or the sister of a friend who needed it came natural to Steve. In the world he came from it was only considered simple hospitality. There was no need to question why she was there, or what she needed. He didn't have any reason not to let her use his couch, or come over to spend a little time. Steve was more than happy to oblige.
Most evenings he spent texting Bucky, or diving into the internet for more information on the wealth of things that had changed between when he hit the ice and now. It wasn't easy to catch up. He was doing his best, but he often felt like a stranger, a man out of time. That's one of the reasons why he got along with Natasha so well-- she had her own solid demons, but played it off. She let him in, even when he made mistakes. She accepted him.
When Yelena shows up and makes herself comfortable, Steve grabs a couple of beers and brings them to the couch with a bags of chips and dip. Food is always good with company. "A movie sounds good. Anything you're interested in? Horror, Comedy, Fluffy?"
Most evenings he spent texting Bucky, or diving into the internet for more information on the wealth of things that had changed between when he hit the ice and now. It wasn't easy to catch up. He was doing his best, but he often felt like a stranger, a man out of time. That's one of the reasons why he got along with Natasha so well-- she had her own solid demons, but played it off. She let him in, even when he made mistakes. She accepted him.
When Yelena shows up and makes herself comfortable, Steve grabs a couple of beers and brings them to the couch with a bags of chips and dip. Food is always good with company. "A movie sounds good. Anything you're interested in? Horror, Comedy, Fluffy?"
She appreciates the way he doesn’t press her to talk. The generation she’s a part of is so foreign to her, spilling their guts up online about their lives at every moment. She much prefers the old sensibilities about minding your own business unless someone invited you to be a part of theirs.
Yelena happily accepts the beer that he offered her, opening it for a sip before she said, “Why don’t we watch one of your favorite ones? From when movies were still so new,” she teases with a grin.
“I mean it, though- I like old movies.”
Yelena happily accepts the beer that he offered her, opening it for a sip before she said, “Why don’t we watch one of your favorite ones? From when movies were still so new,” she teases with a grin.
“I mean it, though- I like old movies.”
It would be odd to push someone to talk, especially someone like Yelena. She's from a very different life and Steve knows that her way here hasn't been easy. It wasn't like his friendship with Natasha happened overnight. It took a long time for her to tell him much of anything, and trust came after that.
Steve's from another generation, and he's still out of time and place. It's easier to sit in silence and enjoy a beer and some food with a movie than force out a strange conversation about a nothing topic.
Taking a sip of his own beer, Steve smiles and laughs. "Movies were exactly new, but they were mostly still in black and white. I have been watching mostly newer things, but I do have one of my very favorites from the forties.
Picking up the remote, Steve goes to his movie collection through his computer on the TV, something Clint set up for him and pulls up Casablanca. "A classic so i'm told, and also one of my favorites." He leans back, takes another sip and smiles as the title screen comes up.
Steve's from another generation, and he's still out of time and place. It's easier to sit in silence and enjoy a beer and some food with a movie than force out a strange conversation about a nothing topic.
Taking a sip of his own beer, Steve smiles and laughs. "Movies were exactly new, but they were mostly still in black and white. I have been watching mostly newer things, but I do have one of my very favorites from the forties.
Picking up the remote, Steve goes to his movie collection through his computer on the TV, something Clint set up for him and pulls up Casablanca. "A classic so i'm told, and also one of my favorites." He leans back, takes another sip and smiles as the title screen comes up.
In her time getting to know the people her sister seemed to see as extended family of some kind, Yelena has decided that Steve ranks pretty high on the list. Who can you trust, if not Captain America himself?
“I like Cary Grant- he has some funny ones.” she settles a little more now, sinking a little heavier again the cushions behind her.
Her face lights up just a little when she says abruptly, “Oh! Do you have any popcorn?” She graces at him and scrunches her nose slightly, “You like the taste of beer enough to drink it even though it does not give you any kind of buzz?”
“I like Cary Grant- he has some funny ones.” she settles a little more now, sinking a little heavier again the cushions behind her.
Her face lights up just a little when she says abruptly, “Oh! Do you have any popcorn?” She graces at him and scrunches her nose slightly, “You like the taste of beer enough to drink it even though it does not give you any kind of buzz?”
"Cary Grant was amazing. I love a lot of actors and actresses from my time. I spent enough time watching movies. I was a small man back then, and in Art School. I mean, I went out to bars, but usually got my ass beat up, and tossed out for starting trouble." Steve laughed. He was a patriot all the way back then and always stood up for anything American. He would also drink what he could.
He was too sick to do that much drinking though. Maybe that's why he enjoyed it so much now. Not to mention the guys always had beers after going out on assignment. He sighed and nodded. "I have both popcorn and yes, I do like it enough. It's a habit, and a remembrance to those I lost. I think." He lifts his beer and thinks of the guys, but then takes a sip with a smile and gets up.
Going to the kitchen, he sets to make popcorn. Tapping on the kitchen counter, Steve waits the three minutes then comes back with a bowl full of the stuff. "I can't believe how easy it is to make popcorn now. It really amazes me."
He was too sick to do that much drinking though. Maybe that's why he enjoyed it so much now. Not to mention the guys always had beers after going out on assignment. He sighed and nodded. "I have both popcorn and yes, I do like it enough. It's a habit, and a remembrance to those I lost. I think." He lifts his beer and thinks of the guys, but then takes a sip with a smile and gets up.
Going to the kitchen, he sets to make popcorn. Tapping on the kitchen counter, Steve waits the three minutes then comes back with a bowl full of the stuff. "I can't believe how easy it is to make popcorn now. It really amazes me."
[05. i really don't think "get laid" will solve all of my problems...]
----
Oooh I like the 90 Day Fiance, they are CRAZY on that show
Aaand the 1000-lb Sisters, they are HILARIOUS
Sometimes you just have to have something on for noise, you know? No brainpower required.
----
Oooh I like the 90 Day Fiance, they are CRAZY on that show
Aaand the 1000-lb Sisters, they are HILARIOUS
Sometimes you just have to have something on for noise, you know? No brainpower required.
hey, everyone is allowed to have some dumb fun every once in a while
i actually think i caught berto watching the fiance one once or twice
it did seem to be pretty crazy even by my standards
i actually think i caught berto watching the fiance one once or twice
it did seem to be pretty crazy even by my standards
I agree completely.
Ooh we should compare weird and crazy standards of things because of having very weird, no at all normal lives.
You pick a topic and I’ll give you my answer. Then you say yours and I pick a topic
A slightly more difficult version of word association, sort of
Maybe not really
But you get the idea
Ooh we should compare weird and crazy standards of things because of having very weird, no at all normal lives.
You pick a topic and I’ll give you my answer. Then you say yours and I pick a topic
A slightly more difficult version of word association, sort of
Maybe not really
But you get the idea
[iv. Everybody makes mistakes. Also they let you text in ambulances now.]
–––
It is fine. I will come.
But why are you IN the hospital? What happened?
[And, like- why does anyone think he needs a hospital? Do these people not know he is a super soldier? How bad does it have to get when someone with such accelerated healing needs a whole hospital trip?]
–––
It is fine. I will come.
But why are you IN the hospital? What happened?
[And, like- why does anyone think he needs a hospital? Do these people not know he is a super soldier? How bad does it have to get when someone with such accelerated healing needs a whole hospital trip?]
[5. Details are irrelevant. come bail me out of jail.]
–––
You are really unhelpful for someone asking for my help, you know?
Even if he says anything else, that will be the last text he gets from her because she has to go throw a new outfit on before heading down to the precinct to bail him out. She's always got some kind of bail money set aside because- well- that's just the kind of life she and those closest to her lead, okay? It's just smart planning, at a certain point.
In the kind of way only Yelena can manage, she swans in and charms the absolute hell out of the people dealing with the most boring aspects of this job. She makes a soft enough demand of getting him out on bail that it's almost impossible for them to deny her.
"Who are you in relation to Barnes, anyway, sweetheart?" the man she'd been discussing everything with asks as he taps some information into his computer.
She leans an elbow on the counter and props her chin in her hand, "Can you keep a secret?" she stage-whispers conspiratorily.
"Sure," he says, amused as he glances back up at her. "I'm good at that."
"We're in something of a.... how you say... situationship. Very complicated and messy, but... worth it," she emphasizes those words with a suggestive lift of her eyebrows, "if you know what I mean," she completes the thought with a quick wink sent his way.
He chuckles lightly and nods, "I think I do," he finishes up what he was doing and says, "Officer Robins will take you the rest of the way, ma'am."
–––
You are really unhelpful for someone asking for my help, you know?
Even if he says anything else, that will be the last text he gets from her because she has to go throw a new outfit on before heading down to the precinct to bail him out. She's always got some kind of bail money set aside because- well- that's just the kind of life she and those closest to her lead, okay? It's just smart planning, at a certain point.
In the kind of way only Yelena can manage, she swans in and charms the absolute hell out of the people dealing with the most boring aspects of this job. She makes a soft enough demand of getting him out on bail that it's almost impossible for them to deny her.
"Who are you in relation to Barnes, anyway, sweetheart?" the man she'd been discussing everything with asks as he taps some information into his computer.
She leans an elbow on the counter and props her chin in her hand, "Can you keep a secret?" she stage-whispers conspiratorily.
"Sure," he says, amused as he glances back up at her. "I'm good at that."
"We're in something of a.... how you say... situationship. Very complicated and messy, but... worth it," she emphasizes those words with a suggestive lift of her eyebrows, "if you know what I mean," she completes the thought with a quick wink sent his way.
He chuckles lightly and nods, "I think I do," he finishes up what he was doing and says, "Officer Robins will take you the rest of the way, ma'am."
[ see, these are all smart questions. it's just that bucky is in a very fucking stupid situation right now. ]
i'm undercover. cover's still intact. i'm also not supposed to be here.
[ he's breaking - broken - a bunch of rules included in his conditional pardon, okay. ]
i'm undercover. cover's still intact. i'm also not supposed to be here.
[ he's breaking - broken - a bunch of rules included in his conditional pardon, okay. ]
The sun is already dipping in the western sky, the cafes of Saint-Denis coming alive with evening customers, as a cool elegantly dressed blonde makes her way along the sidewalk, paper bag of groceries in the crook of her arm, stopping outside one of the distinctive Parisian doors to get out her keys.
To her neighbours Anne Darceneaux was just a typical businesswoman, one whose work frequently took her away for long periods of time. Indeed, none of them had seen her for several years, until one day she had turned up again out of the blue, much to the delight of Pierre Thompion in the apartment across from hers who'd lingered on the landing this evening so as to try and flirt with his beautiful neighbour.
Brushing him off gently in fluent French, Anne unlocked her apartment door, hefting the bag of groceries as she closes it behind her, her gaze briefly catching on the mirror by the entrance, a sigh escaping her as she studied the reflection of Anastasia Petrova, a twinge of remorse making her break eye contact with the reflection after only a moment.
Six weeks now, six weeks of living another's life, of waiting in hope that the widow that she'd nearly killed years before might show up. She'd give it another couple of months, maybe tip off some more underworld contacts if that didn't work, but failing that she would be at a dead end.
To her neighbours Anne Darceneaux was just a typical businesswoman, one whose work frequently took her away for long periods of time. Indeed, none of them had seen her for several years, until one day she had turned up again out of the blue, much to the delight of Pierre Thompion in the apartment across from hers who'd lingered on the landing this evening so as to try and flirt with his beautiful neighbour.
Brushing him off gently in fluent French, Anne unlocked her apartment door, hefting the bag of groceries as she closes it behind her, her gaze briefly catching on the mirror by the entrance, a sigh escaping her as she studied the reflection of Anastasia Petrova, a twinge of remorse making her break eye contact with the reflection after only a moment.
Six weeks now, six weeks of living another's life, of waiting in hope that the widow that she'd nearly killed years before might show up. She'd give it another couple of months, maybe tip off some more underworld contacts if that didn't work, but failing that she would be at a dead end.
Edited 2024-06-19 15:18 (UTC)
Finding the other Widows scattered across the globe to hit them with the Red Dust and cure them is… a harrowing job, but a necessary one. It makes her feel closer to her sister in a weird way she can’t quite explain. She doesn’t like thinking about it over much, so she just puts her head down and does her job.
Petrova has been more difficult to place than she had hoped. Yelena hopes it doesn’t mean she has been killed before she could be saved. She would not be the first, nor likely the last, who turned up that way, after all.
But finally, after what felt like forever, she’s tracking movement of her. This has always been the fun part of the job to her. Sure, she likes the fight as much as anyone, but this? It’s where she shines, she thinks.
As Anastasia enters the apartment, distracted by something in the mirror — for a moment, Yelena thinks she’s caught her, but whatever it was, it was brief and did not hold her attention. Nothing immediately seems off, things are still in the places they they are meant to be. Nothing looks particularly ransacked. But there is a heaviness that hangs in the air of the room.
Yelena still waits, hidden well in her spot, refusing to move a single muscle, waiting instead for her target to move closer.
Petrova has been more difficult to place than she had hoped. Yelena hopes it doesn’t mean she has been killed before she could be saved. She would not be the first, nor likely the last, who turned up that way, after all.
But finally, after what felt like forever, she’s tracking movement of her. This has always been the fun part of the job to her. Sure, she likes the fight as much as anyone, but this? It’s where she shines, she thinks.
As Anastasia enters the apartment, distracted by something in the mirror — for a moment, Yelena thinks she’s caught her, but whatever it was, it was brief and did not hold her attention. Nothing immediately seems off, things are still in the places they they are meant to be. Nothing looks particularly ransacked. But there is a heaviness that hangs in the air of the room.
Yelena still waits, hidden well in her spot, refusing to move a single muscle, waiting instead for her target to move closer.
Edited 2024-06-20 01:25 (UTC)
With the door closed Anastasia tosses the keys into a bowl and makes her way across the apartment, paper bag crinkling in the night air, about to take off her shoes before something catches her ear.
Thump, thump, thump...
A heartbeat. One that Anastasia Petrova's ears could not pick up, but which is easily apparent to her own superior hearing. Anticipation instantly replaces boredom, the knowledge of who it must be causing a rising thrill mixed with worry about how this encounter will go down. Will she be forgiven? Was wearing this face a mistake? Questions she'd been asking herself for weeks bubbling up in her mind in a tsunami of anxiety. But there's absolutely no indication in Anastasia's body language that she's noticed anything, and she continues through the apartment into the kitchen, depositing the bag on the kitchen counter, still for a moment before she speaks.
"I know you are there, I do not wish to fight." She says, Anastasia's voice, her true Russian accent readily apparent, is entirely calm, as if discussing the weather over a coffee. Turning her head she looks right at where Yelena has concealed herself, not seeing her yet, but sure of her hiding spot.
"I have pain au chocolat, they are I think very good."
Thump, thump, thump...
A heartbeat. One that Anastasia Petrova's ears could not pick up, but which is easily apparent to her own superior hearing. Anticipation instantly replaces boredom, the knowledge of who it must be causing a rising thrill mixed with worry about how this encounter will go down. Will she be forgiven? Was wearing this face a mistake? Questions she'd been asking herself for weeks bubbling up in her mind in a tsunami of anxiety. But there's absolutely no indication in Anastasia's body language that she's noticed anything, and she continues through the apartment into the kitchen, depositing the bag on the kitchen counter, still for a moment before she speaks.
"I know you are there, I do not wish to fight." She says, Anastasia's voice, her true Russian accent readily apparent, is entirely calm, as if discussing the weather over a coffee. Turning her head she looks right at where Yelena has concealed herself, not seeing her yet, but sure of her hiding spot.
"I have pain au chocolat, they are I think very good."
At the assurance of no fight, Yelena takes her at her word and steps from her hiding place, hands up and visible, not on any of the weapons very clearly on her person. She is who she is, she would never be caught unarmed. “Anna… do you know why I am here?”
She ignores the comment about the pain au chocolat for the moment. Maybe when this is over, though…
Yelena also doesn’t trust how calm she is being. It’s a stark difference from how the others before her reacted to Yelena’s sudden presence in their lives. She is still on guard, hackles raised, and ready to spring into action the second it’s necessary.
She ignores the comment about the pain au chocolat for the moment. Maybe when this is over, though…
Yelena also doesn’t trust how calm she is being. It’s a stark difference from how the others before her reacted to Yelena’s sudden presence in their lives. She is still on guard, hackles raised, and ready to spring into action the second it’s necessary.
Anastasia Petrova would almost certainly have a gun in the paper bag. She also might have an idea about why Yelena Belova was on the trail of other widows. Gemini de Mille had no need for the first, and little about the second, the knowledge of Yelena's activities more important than the 'why' when she'd started looking for her.
"I'm sorry but Anna is dead, she has been for six years." She held up her hands to show she meant no harm, her expression sorrowful and apologetic. Perhaos it wasn't the best thing to lead with but she wanted to be honest, even at the cost of potentially getting attacked. It's not hard to miss the whipchord readiness in Yelena's posture, and keeps her own entirely relaxed and unthreatening,
"Please, I'm just here to talk."
"I'm sorry but Anna is dead, she has been for six years." She held up her hands to show she meant no harm, her expression sorrowful and apologetic. Perhaos it wasn't the best thing to lead with but she wanted to be honest, even at the cost of potentially getting attacked. It's not hard to miss the whipchord readiness in Yelena's posture, and keeps her own entirely relaxed and unthreatening,
"Please, I'm just here to talk."
Well, that certainly gets a reaction out of her.
She pulls a gun from a holster at her hip and aims it at the woman in front of her. "Who are you, if you are not Anastasia?" And how the fuck does she look exactly like how Yelena remembers her? She's not attacking, not yet, but she's definitely much more guarded suddenly.
She pulls a gun from a holster at her hip and aims it at the woman in front of her. "Who are you, if you are not Anastasia?" And how the fuck does she look exactly like how Yelena remembers her? She's not attacking, not yet, but she's definitely much more guarded suddenly.
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