elnysa | Text -|- un: nunya

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Text -|- un: nunya

Looking for work. Previous Experience: phone operator, temporary office assistant, fast food worker, college bartender, sandwich board holder, private investigator, professional asshole. Skills: owns own camera, capable of tolerating other assholes, not too up my own ass to do dirty work. Special Skills: Specifics given upon request if I damn well feel like it. Contact with offers. Anything related to strip clubs will result in learning how quickly I can track you down and hurt you with my special skills.

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The Invaders. Not "Captain Sexpants and his brigade." [ He feels obligated to correct you, Jessica, even if here he happens to be wrong. Anyway: ]

He knows who I am.

... No. It'd be the Howling Commandos, actually, but I think that just clarifies my... past or whatever isn't the same as yours. Sucks that Tony Stark's in both of them. Asshole.

So... What do you want me to do?

Oh, yeah, I know who they are too. [ His tone is non-committal. He's had a lot of team-ups. ]

I just— I wanna figure out what's wrong with him. Or at least make sure he isn't gonna hurt nobody. [ Because people do. He's seen it go south a dozen times before. And if his other self is anything like him, well, he'd be very good at hurting people. ]

Look... I'm not a shrink. I can only tell you what I see him do, not what he's thinking or what happened. You want to know that shit? Ask him. Because if you want me to find out, that's exactly what's going to happen. 'Yo, Bucky. Other you wants to know if you're a homicidal rage monkey.'

[ There's a level on which he knows you're right, Jessica, but on a level deeper than that he's too scared to ask. And another part of him thinks: ]

Well, maybe he wouldn't tell it to me.

[ Not exactly an argument for, buddy. ]

And what makes you think he'd tell it to me? Maybe he'll get the whole 'Don't want to travel down the same road' bullshit. I don't know. This is a bit out of my wheelhouse.

I mean, you can hire me to follow him if you want, but I can guarantee you right now, I'm not going to be able to tell you what you want to know.

That's why you mount an attack on multiple fronts.

[ Basic strategy. Right? He takes another sip of his drink— he's just about done with it. And it hasn't steeled his nerves any, or made him more sure of nothing. ]

Except this isn't a war. This is a personal matter involving you and... fuck, yourself. Whatever bullshit you think may have happened is clearly not going to happen on a planet in another goddamn reality - [She lowered her voice and hissed that, eyes skipping around to make sure there was no one near enough to hear that.] - so try again. I'm a PI. I track people. I find information. I do not sit down and find out if someone is having warm fuzzies or cold pricklies over something. You want to know that? Grow a pair and ask him yourself.

If it were me, and let's just be happy it's not, I'd be more pissed someone hired someone to spy on me to find out something they could ask.

Yeah, of course. [ He hasn't not thought of that. ] That's why you hire someone discreet.

[ Bucky isn't exactly a spy, but he sure grows up to be one. His sense of privacy is all warped from the years of military service.

Still, he appreciates that this was a bad idea. ]

You're wrong about the other thing, though. They can send us back.

Look, kid, whatever you're worried about growing up to be, talk to your older self. Consider that a solid piece of advice from an adult.

[She finished her drink and waved for another.]

I'd heard that. I also know they've got someone I give a shit about up there, and I'm not looking to screw her over more than she's already been.

I'm not a kid.

[ He tries to put some weight into it, something sharp and brassy, but this far in, all that comes out is tired. ]

And I'm not lookin' to get you or anyone else in trouble. Whatever they are, that's above my pay grade. I'm just saying, s'all. [ He is pretty sure they could put him or anyone else back where he came from any time they wanted. Who knows how it works. How can he have been to the future if the world ended in 1945? These are all things a person learns not to think about too hard. ]

[Her look said it all. 'Sure you're not', it said, Jessica leaning back as the server came to take her empty glass and set a fresh one in front of her.]

So talk to him. You're complicating an already tricky situation when you can just grow a pair and deal with it to his face.

[ In Bucky's estimation, he hasn't been a kid since he was 16 years old, and he got shipped off to Europe. He polishes off the rest of glass and stares at the bottom, glumly, unsure if he wants another. Part of being a grown-up is not getting drunk, even though he could. ]

I heard you the first four times. [ He doesn't have a response that's appropriate for a lady's ears. ]

It's a crack-up, though. If you can pick from everywhere, why in Sam Hill would you pick two of me? I'm nobody special.

It's better than two of me. And who knows, maybe there's more. You could always ask the assholes above, if you're that worried.

[Jessica was more into the direct approach than the subtle one. Just getting up in someone's face would usually get her answers better than beating around the bush.]

Oh really? 'Cause it seems like you've got it all figured out.

[ He'd asked the Nathans his one favor already, though of course, he'd thought about asking more. Still, his experience was: ]

Command's never gonna answer any questions it doesn't have to. I'm pretty sure it's like that in every universe.

Please. I don't have shit figured out. I'm just willing to admit it.

[She sipped at her drink, thinking she might change to something harder soon. This conversation was giving her a headache.]

Command. Jesus, kid. You make it sound like we all signed up for this and agreed to any of this shit. I didn't. Only reason I'm not up there now is because they have someone to hold over my head.

[ He tilts his head. ]

You think everyone who's in the Army volunteered? [ He sure did, but there had been a draft. ]

Hell no, but they don't have the draft in my day. And this isn't the army. This isn't even Earth. So screw that idea.

[ He squints. ]

What idea?

Of being conscripted into someone's war. This isn't even a war. This is... orbital babysitting.

We're all conscripted into something, sister. [ The way of the world. It's like FDR said— some generations, much was expected. ] You're going along with 'em too, so don't act like you're above it.

[ Or below it, maybe. He couldn't quite get a read there. ]

But you're right. This isn't war. Not yet.

The hell we are.

[She scowled, slumping down in her seat. Jessica fought, but she fought against having to be a part of anything. Of being used. That was her purpose in life.]

I'm not doing shit. I'm surviving. That's not following any goddamn rules, buddy.

[Yeah, now someone was rubbing her the wrong way.]

[ He's clearly touched a nerve, but he doesn't understand what about. Bucky had grown up in a time and at a moment where everyone was expected to be part of something— a country, the service, the homefront— and it wasn't your fault or your doing, but everyone did their part anyway. It was never something he'd questioned, or been inclined to question.

So, he thinks about it, and decides: ]

Buddy is better than kid.

[Don't worry, Bucky. Jessica just had a lot of issues, some of them related to being dragged into things that had nothing to do with her. This was just another instance of that, and she hated it. She was not a team player. She didn't belong anywhere anymore and she didn't like being forced into fighting for something she didn't believe in or agree with. Or belong to. Fuck that.]

Kid it is.

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