ataraxion | voice;

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voice;

[There a click on, and the clear sound that someone is there, but there's a pause, like maybe someone is making sure.]

Is this broadcast going through?

I think I got it-

Hello, Tranquility, my name is Steve Rogers.

I'd like to be directed to whoever is in charge of Security, if that's not too much trouble. And I'd like to know if it's possible to see out into space. Are there any windows on board?

[Annnnd a pause, and a fumble.]

Is it off?

[And then another pause.]

Sorry, excuse me-

[And NOW it's off.]

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Hang on, hold up.

[Someone who's been listening to all this from behind the screen has finally gotten frustrated with playing the observer, especially when nobody seems to say anything round here without sounding like they're holding something else back.

Which is why he's pulled the screen down and peered over the top of it and hi, Melinda, have some dark curls and upside down blue eyes far too close to the monitor.]

What you mean is he's their ally because, believe me, we know who our allies are, and the names aren't familiar this end.

[And then he walks round, shoves Steve up to make room like it's nothing.]

May I ask you a question? It's the 'what's the last thing you remember' one, except all I need to know's the year.

[Offscreen, Melinda can hear - hey, don't you got any respect left? and isn't it odd to hear Steve lapse into a slightly more working class way of speaking.]

[And Steve's allowed halfway back into view.]

I'm plenty respectful, I'm just interested.

[And back to Melinda.]

Ma'am.

[Her limited answers have little or nothing to do with the present locale. She withholds occupationally. Bucky's contribution makes her jaw set firm. It looks, for a couple of seconds, like she's sucking her teeth. She doesn't raise any objection to his point. She's unimpressed, not offended. It fades over the course of Steve and Bucky's brief exchange.

It's jarring, hearing Steve go full Brooklyn. This could be how her teammates feel when—before tai chi, first thing in the morning—she gripes to herself in Cantonese. She's not much of a talker. For all that happened, she was asked a simple question and it has a simple answer.]

2014.

[It's blood from a stone, wrenching conversation out of her:] Not "ma'am", if you can help it.

[Bucky slides a look across at Steve, and in the space of that most of the cockiness goes out of him (and all she's doing is confirming something that, in the pit of his stomach, he thinks he already knows).]

Sorry, you'll need to fill me in on the respectful term.

[He manages something like a smile but it's a flicker and then it's gone.]

These allies, they from around then, too?

Edited 2014-04-19 21:54 (UTC)

That is respectful, but I don't need it.

[That's transparently directed at both of them.]

Use my name.

[She could live to regret assuming they'll pick the right half of her name. On the other subject, she hums a confirming noise.]

And yes, they are. Give or take.

[As far as she knows. Some of them might've been more honest than others about their personal histories.]

[Bucky huffs a laugh, as sharp as his smile, just one breath. The next thing's directed to Steve but he doesn't try to lower his voice so much she can't hear.]

Those are your allies, Steve. 2014. Guess you must hold up well for pushing the century mark.

[And it's not that it's such a painful thing to think of, not really, it's just.]

Thanks, Agent May. Sargent James Barnes.

[It's just he's not expecting the same recognition for his name.]

Bucky.

The oldest soldier in existence.

[No, but she's wrong. He can't possibly be alive, not when he knows that he crashed the Valkyrie into the ice.]

[May's not doing much to elevate the mood. She's being dry, but they won't get the joke.]

You really haven't met Thor.

[She looks back to Bucky with less humor and more purpose. If she'd arrived on this ship from any other team, led by any other man, he'd be right to think she wouldn't know his name. It's a different recognition, sure, but there is some. She doesn't falter. She does pause, assessing his tone.]

Sgt. Barnes, of the Howling Commandos. That right?

Edited 2014-04-19 23:44 (UTC)

[And it's his turn to do something like a double take, only he's really looking at her now in a way he hadn't before.]

Yeah, that's right.

[There's no way he's making it to the next century. Hell, some days he's not so sure he'll make it out of the war.]

But Bucky's all I need.

[She doesn't know the full story behind every name on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Wall of Valor. Seems like she ought to, by now. It's a guilty admission in the privacy of her thoughts. She looks impassive under any level of scrutiny.]

Joining Security?

[Only half a question, not tough to figure out.]

Considering it.

Might want to look at Gunnery, too.

[Gunnery - Oh.]

And which one'd we find you in? [Sweetheart.]

[Thing about that, not everyone goes down to shuttle bay for the view.

Her tone's flat; comprehending yet unresponsive.]

Flight Crew.

[And right about there's where he decides that one day he'll work a smile out of you, Melinda May. The patience of angels might be the only saintly thing he has.

Right now he just tips his head like that makes sense to him.]

I'd sooner fly with a WASP girl anyday.

[Muttered, under his breath, oh, here we go.]

[Can she sign somewhere to deflect this over to Romanoff? Natasha's used to it. She probably likes it... On second thought, probably not. It isn't saintly patience of her own, exactly, that makes her skip right over with a small exhale.]

Any other questions?

[Hey no reason he can't try the same on this Agent Romanoff, too. It makes him feel like himself, for a minute.

But he defers any questions over to Steve with a glance.]

Not at the moment, no, Agent May.

[He is going to take his device back from his idiot friend now]

[Well, Bucky, it should really be all Natasha, all the time. Or Natasha and women who respond to "sweetheart" without frenzied stabbing. Better, right?

Steve knows exactly when to confiscate a communication device.]

Good.

[Spoken with intended finality; brusque when she's not professional.]

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