[Bucky's a more than occasional visitor to the Shuttle Bay, having offered to lend a hand in return for training with the previous CFO. This is the first time in a while he's been back, though, and the view out's as distracting as ever. Maybe more.

He's standing in front of the windows, looking out at the rolling cloud.]

Kind of foggy out, isn't it. Pretty enough, though. Makes you wonder what could be out there, just out of sight.

[He turns, then, engine grease on his jumpsuit and streaking his face. He could almost have walked right out of a Brooklyn autoshop.]

I've been thinking about what I've missed back home. Christmas, Easter, maybe a birthday or two, or two thousand with the way time goes up here. I always did like holidays - they let you know where you are, where you've been. Even with the war on... well, I guess people needed the excuse to smile at each other. Now it feels like I've lost track of something important.

[He shrugs one shoulder, though. That's a little too much looking inward.]

So I'm wondering, what do you all celebrate, where you're from? And what do you picture might be out there, past the clouds?