nysalogs | the sky was made of amethyst ( & open )

Why would I tell her? You're not bleeding to death.

[ Right, Peggy? Jim finishes the last of the whiskey that's still in his glass, and makes a kind of 'oh!' noise. ]

In case you ever are-- [ he gets up, and then has to pause. ] Shit, that hit me harder than I thought.

[ Yikes. Anyway, he shakes it off, and goes to his backpack, which has seen better centuries. He digs out a slim black nylon sleeve, and returns to the table, pulling it apart to fish something inside of it out. ]

I was actually thinking about Claire, with these. It smells bad because I'm the worst chemist, but here. [ He holds out a silver packet. ] It's skin glue. Really, really durable skin glue.

[ She raises her brows in lieu of a shrug to his first comment, then watches him get up with some measure of curiosity. She reaches one hand out to steady him, just in case, but then he moves on and she simply chuckles under her breath. She doesn't feel the whiskey much but that may be more a remark on the long nights spent in a pub with the Commandos or boys from the office than anything else.

She does knock back the last slip of liquor in her glass when Jim returns, though. ]

Skin glue, [ she repeats, flicking her gaze from the packet to his face. ] To use in place of stitches? You invented this?

[ 20 year old Jim is ashamed of his rollercoaster tolerance these days, but he'll acclimate yet.

Anyhoo. Jim frowns. ] Invented? No, this is old, one of the stop-gap precursors to muscle and dermal regeneraters. It's questionable 'cadet chemistry' they make us learn in the command track when we're dumped on a blistering asteroid covered in oxygen-depleting space lobsters for two weeks in a survival course armed with a pack of bandaids and a fork.

[ He mentioned his job was nuts, right.

Jim sits back down-- ] I gave the formula to Dr Watson, because the mysterious and enigmatic Alan Foster told me he'd be able to cook it up better than I can, but he's no longer present. So it's just me and Spooky trying not to burn our eyebrows off in the jungle.

[ She's familiar with outrageous survival courses, although the wilderness of the Scottish Highlands and instructors posing as Nazi officers have nothing on the perils of space travel. Different times and all that. ]

Your 'old' is my 'new,' [ she remarks wryly before moving on. The mention of John earns a pang she hasn't quite allowed herself to address — another one of her first friends here — and she reaches to fiddle with what he's laid out between them amongst the plates and glasses. ] This is remarkable. I suppose it has its basis in the cyanoacrylates scientists were cooking up in labs during the war, but I doubt anyone considered using it for treatment in the field. More's the pity. Now that you've said it, it seems so obvious.

It's a protein-modified octyl cyanoacrylate, in fact, [ he confirms. Good eye for space goop, Peggy. ] I dunno, given how super glue works - [ of course they still have super glue in the 23rd century ] - I'm not totally surprised it took people a while to think about putting it on open wounds. You know, on purpose, anyway.

[ Who hasn't wrapped a wound with space duct tape?? ]

Maybe someday I'll troubleshoot how to make it better. Or one of my science officers will wake up.

[ She smiles a little at that, shaking her head. ]

I expect it's miles better than what any of us could hope for out here, just short of Lysa's potions or magic we don't quite understand. I'd trust this over that any day. [ She takes a moment then huffs out a breath, tossing the packet back onto the table between them. ] I'd offer to let you use it on my leg, but I'm not sure it's the kind of injury that could be knit back together so neatly.

[ Maybe if she'd been in Eggsy Unwin's place and grappled with sword-wielding robots instead of the mechanical monstrosity firing at her with shotgun slugs. The graze isn't shallow, it couldn't even be stitched up. ]

I assume you've already tested it?

Edited 2018-06-17 17:54 (UTC)

I like the potions over stitches, [ he says, wrinkling his nose. The dark ages, Peggy!! Anyway, he gives her a look, as if looking at her over the rim of invisible glasses, like hey we're not talking about your mystery accident, I thought, unless you want to spill all the beans we just set aside in the name of trust and friendship.

(It's a little bit teasing.) ]

Of course I tested it. [ What do you take him for. ] And I'm allergic to like almost every medicine binder in the galaxy, so if my limbs didn't fall off, nobody's will.

[ She shakes her head with an almost sheepish smile, an elegant flick of her wrist, at the look he shoots her way. What? it seems to say. It seems absurd to skim over it even if he hasn't asked any questions — although at this point, comfortably warm from whiskey and good company, she may very well say she'd been shot. It's not incriminating. She's in the Guard.

Right? ]

That's about as reassuring as it can get, I suppose. The medic assigned to your unit — [ for lack of a better phrase ] — must be thrilled. And I use the word loosely, most I've met have as much good humour as a pin cushion.

[ R i g h t. ]

Oh, my chief medical officer is my best friend! [ Jim exclaims cheerfully. ] He hates me. He puked on me an hour after we met, the day we both got hustled to enroll in the academy. You'd love him.

[ He sounds so earnest and sincere, it all can't be anything but true. ]

[ He sounds so earnest and sincere she bursts out laughing. ]

Is that so? Because I have sneaking suspicion the feeling might not be entirely mutual. [ Peggy raises her brows at him, leaning one elbow on the table as she says, quite pointedly, ] Given how well the two of us get along.

Yeah, you'd drive him nuts, [ Jim agrees, still grinning. ] He secretly loves it, though. He'd be so bored otherwise, sitting around somewhere on a planet with his medical genius uninterrupted by hostile forces and my penchant for going into anaphylactic shock.

[ Jim is a terrible friend, but so is Bones, and that's why they work so well. ]

[ You'd drive him nuts. She wonders what makes him say so beyond the example she'd cited, but it doesn't take a genius — the secrecy, likely, and the hints of something more. Jim hasn't seen her in action on the field and only ever the aftermath, but that's likely more than enough. Maybe one day. ]

Then I hope he rejoins you soon, if only to keep you out of trouble. [ She smiles, glances pointedly at his gear in the corner. ] Especially since it seems as though you intend to get into more of it.

[ Pot, kettle. ]

[ Bones would see her shadow of a limp and know exactly what was injured, what caused it, how long ago - and inform her, loudly. He'd see her hanging out with Jim and just know.

Man, he misses him. ]

Getting into trouble is what we're all about on this rock, [ he says. ] Nobody'd know anything otherwise.

[ Look, a shotgun slug tore a chunk out of her thigh. It's fine. In fact, it's getting a little stiff just sitting here and while standing is marvellously wretched, it's starting to ache and she shifts in her seat to sit sideways so she can stretch it out with a slow exhale. ]

I was about to say some of us are here to start a new, honest life, [ she continues, leaning back against the wall with a flicker of a grimace. Then she smiles again. ] But that doesn't mean one is exempt from trouble, whether it's causing it or getting into it. Sometimes both at the same time. I'd say we fall into both if we continue looking into what's happened upstairs and right here on the surface.

That makes it sound like we voluntarily picked up a moved, [ he points out. ] We really are refugees, at the end of the day.

[ On a massive, awful scale. Jim watches her shift around, but doesn't comment. Something really did a number on her, but she seems alright, just healing. ]

I mean, we can't not. I can't just sit around.

You don't have to explain yourself to me, captain.

[ It's obviously teasingly said and all in good humour. She gestures broadly to how they're sitting now. ]

This is just a brief respite before we inevitably go launching ourselves at the next crisis. We're clearly cut from the same cloth. But I never saw myself as suited to the quiet life; in fact, when I had a shot at it, I ran in the opposite direction.

[ With a nudge from her late brother, of course. But she still went. ]

[ He laughs quietly, because she's right. He'll be right back up to Thesa after he sleeps this off, and he knows she'll be back to-- well, hopefully back to nothing tomorrow, besides sitting with her feet up, but he doubts it'll last. ]

I'm not sure I know what a quiet life would look like, for me. [ An administrator and defense strategist on a starbase? Even that's kind of nuts, but Jim couldn't make himself do it in the end. ]

You've got a bit of it here, though, right? At least when you shut the doors at night. [ Her and her Captain Rogers, buying her shampoo. ]

[ She would have been married to a nice, respectable British officer, had his children, attend luncheons, be a proper lady. The life she lead — and continues to lead — feels more like her truest self, even if it isn't always easy. She wouldn't change it for the world, especially now that she gets to have her cake and eat it too on account of Steve being back from the dead.

Speaking of — ]

Meaning what? [ She knows she's spoken of Steve in the past with Jim, mostly in passing. But she has no reason to believe he's aware of the details of their relationship. ] I mean, I suppose. [ Is that a smile? It's helpless, and just a hint, but it's there. ] Haven't we all?

[ Jim grins, his smile crinkling up the corners of his eyes. ] I got a 'hey baby we're out of shampoo' phone call meant for you, a couple weeks back.

[ And he'd answered in kind, tormenting his accidental domestic friend - politely ignoring the Promise I won't get kidnapped again portion of it (also not mentioning that now, either) - until he'd introduced himself.

Anyway Steve Rogers probably didn't say hey baby but, whatever. ]

[ Blame the whiskey, but there's no denying the hint of colour that washes across Peggy's cheeks at that little jab. It's easy, for a moment, to let the sweeter and simpler memories fill the space between the words; a slip of the finger on a keyboard, maybe, and Steve calls Jim instead of her. So innocuous. ]

Oh, is that all?

[ But then there's that cold touch of reality that brushes up against the warmth because more recently, Steve learned that she hasn't been entirely honest with him. (For good reason, but the fact remains.) Their relationship will survive that particular hurdle, she knows. It's still hard. But her smile doesn't flicker. ]

How positively scandalous. I imagine hearing about the shopping was especially titillating.

Edited 2018-06-19 21:12 (UTC)

[ He's pleased to be right, even more so to see her reaction, subtle as it might be. It's clear as day that Jim is happy to know she's got that-- in whatever capacity it might exist. He's not a romantic, personally, and he knows he'll never be anyone's dedicated partner, but it's just really nice to know his friends have that joy and support. ]

I got an offer of coffee out of it, but it didn't sound very enthusiastic. [ Embarrassed, more likely, which Jim is well aware he exacerbated with his teasing. Oh well. ]

[ She looks over at him and laughs softly, not embarrassed but immensely touched that he seems so pleased. It's sweet. ]

I'm sure Steve — Captain Rogers, [ she amends automatically, ] meant every word. I imagine he was just a little flustered.

[ Peggy reaches up to fiddle with her pearl earring, an absentminded gesture, but perhaps a little bit of a tell, too. She's a private enough person without her job coming into the picture, and the nature of what she has with Steve is wonderfully intimate. When they're together, it's impossible to miss. It's no secret. But even so. ]

Yes, you could say I've got a bit of the quiet life here, which I never... [ She thought that life went into the Arctic with Steve. ] Well. It isn't perfect; we're both part of the Royal Guard so you can imagine what that must be like. But we've been luckier than most and I don't let myself forget that.

[ D'aw, she's cute. Jim resolves not to poke her too much further about it, because they're both private people in a way, but a little alcohol and fondness for his friend makes it feel alright for a few minutes. ]

I was gentle, [ he assures her, half-laughing. ]

I'm glad, and -- [ a slightly apologetic salute with the empty glass. ] Sorry for prying, if it came off that way.

[ Her smile softens with amusement and she lowers her hand, fingers fluttering a little at him in lieu of a shake of her head. ]

Not at all. I did say you could ask; I just never specified after what. [ And specifics matter to a woman like her. ] We speak enough about work as it is; we may as well know a little more about each other beyond that.

[ Peggy eyes his empty glass and her own then reaches over to pour them both a splash more of whiskey, a hint of mischief in the way her eyes crinkle at the corners. ]

So... what about you, Captain Kirk?

Edited 2018-06-21 08:22 (UTC)

[ He grins at the refill. They may have different domestic objectives, but she's not wrong; they're the same sort of person, beneath. ]

Ah, I'm married to the 'Fleet, [ Jim says with a shrug. It doesn't sound like prevarication - he is what he is, and that's someone unsuited to romantic commitment, for a laundry list of reasons. ] There are fraternization rules given my rank, anyway.

[ Largely unenforced 'common sense' ones that no one would begrudge Captain Kirk flouting in the face of his isolated position, but it's a helpful wall to put off dealing with his reluctance to open himself up to real intimacy. (What would he do with Bones, besides ruin what they have? What would he do with Eurydice, who trusts him with her daughter, but finds herself in trouble every time they're in proximity? No. He's grateful for what he has, and doesn't need more.) ]

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