nysalogs | closed; a man walks into a bar

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closed; a man walks into a bar

Who: TJ Johansen (

stargatemedic) & Brock Rumlow (

ukase)
What: Drinking and dares (maybe)
When: Several days after their first bar meeting
Where: The Frosty Tap Cantina
Warning(s): TBD

It was easier for TJ to tell herself that she was following up on a patient than it was to admit that she'd had enough of New and Exciting™ and needed a bit of a break. Where 'following up on a patient' didn't usually entail going to a bar, she felt justified in the fact that his bones had fallen out of his body at the bar, so she could reexamine his hand at the bar.

Maybe it was better to get a drink in her before she started talking dares or anything else.

Despite it being a night out, TJ had still dressed in something resembling her former uniform; absent the pants, she'd pulled on jeans instead, but the Air Force shirt remained. Hair stayed up and she'd even brought her small medkit, just in case anything inside it was needed.

Finding a (relatively) quiet table in the corner nearest the excitement, something that hadn't clearly started up just yet, she ordered something that appeared tame and waited for her new acquaintance to arrive.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"My skill set is rather particular," he clarified but gave no more detail than that. There was plenty to do here, but it was mostly playing house, doing missions for their overlords and trying not to get killed by resistances against their being there. He had no team, no job, and she might be the closest thing to a friend that he had.

"A person who is now back in cryostasis full time challenged me to find and see a dragon. It's the only thing I have left of her," he said, his expression momentarily flickering with discomfort. A ruse really because at this point, finding a dragon would be the most entertaining part of it all.

"I did help in the clinic before, but I doubt I'm welcome there."

For the briefest moment, TJ wants to ask. It's the way he says that it's the only thing he has left of her - clearly he misses her, whoever she is, a lot - and then she wavers on whether or not she should. And because of it, she doesn't offer to help him find a dragon; if it was something that he and this woman had talked about, she definitely doesn't want to intrude on the memory.

Instead, she tries to focus on what he'd said regarding the clinic, her curiosity getting the better of her there.

"Why wouldn't you be welcome in a clinic, of all places?"

He was perfectly capable of finding his own dragon, just as he was perfectly capable of operating alone. It wasn't perfect, but he had done it before many times. It was very strange to him to not have a purpose, an over-reaching mission that he could drive his hands into and take up the charge of. So, he thought finding a dragon would at least give him a distraction for a few days, maybe a couple of weeks if they were so elusive.

He chuckled and drank down the rest of the water in his glass, leaning back into it as he regarded her. "Friends choosing sides I imagine," he said with a shrug. "I treated someone as I would treat all my soldiers when wounded, and they took offense like I was being sexist."

Everyone's perfectly capable of operating alone; whether it's good for them in the long run is another story and she doesn't advise it, as a medical professional, simply because it's not good for one's mind or soul. Not for too long, anyway.

It's curiosity that has her looking at him when he talks about sexism and soldiers and she makes a guess. "You gave an order and they didn't like it?" TJ furrows her brow. "What happened?"

She wants to know how that affects his being at the clinic.

Rumlow wasn't one to talk about his personal problems or his personal life or his secrets or his childhood or, or, or. He kept to himself, generally putting himself out there so that people revealed themselves to him rather than the other way around. The way he had been brought up was a lot of doing it for oneself and then HYDRA had been about doing it for the greater good.

He set his arm across the back of his chair, looking casual and he nodded his head before shrugging. He shrugged a lot when he wanted to play not caring very much. "Mission with hostages, and a groups of people were sent to find them. I was invited by this person, so I went and we were all wounded in some capacity, some worse than others. It was a bad op with little information and even less ability to work our way through it in a timely fashion because the hostages were in danger. So, we took our knocks."

He rubbed his chin with his palm, looking beyond TJ's shoulder at nothing in particular. "This person was hurt, probably broken ribs and they wavered when standing. However this person's lover wasn't with the group we found, so I originally suggested we go and join another group. Once I realized how hurt they were, I told this person to stand down, that I would go and they should see to their wounds. They didn't take kindly to being told what they could or couldn't do, but it was a risk to the op. I stood my ground, treated them with the same respect I would treat all my people." He shrugged his shoulders. Again. "We haven't spoken since, and they are good friends with Claire, so I know how that situation goes."

Being stuck on a ship with the same seventy people - more than half of them military types -for two years, TJ has gotten to learn and understand body language more than she'd ever thought she'd get to. Being ordered by Colonel Young to perform psych evals on a crew of people she barely knew had forced her to up that knowledge quickly and she's trained herself to notice new tells quickly. The shrugging and forced nonchalance is something that she's familiar with, but not knowing Rumlow very well, she's certainly not about to call him on it.

Instead, she focuses on the story he tells, well aware of how dangerous missions can go awry quickly. She's also very aware how people react when they think the people they care about are in danger and she nods as he explains the reaction of the person he's talking about.

"I've been in situations where people, especially people who are trained to take orders, stop doing so when they think those they worry about most are in compromising positions," TJ says. "It's hard to admit that you're not the right person to take care of those you care about. Giving up that control is difficult." She takes a breath. "It's still not an excuse to disobey an order."

If Rumlow was in charge, he should have been listened to. Military to her core in that kind of setting, she understands. "I'm sorry to hear that you lost that relationship." Friendship? Whatever it was. "When I'm at the clinic, you can come see me and I won't let anyone say different." Fight her on it, she dares anyone.

Well, Rumlow did come from a place where certain types of people thought that they could disobey orders and often times they were strong enough and skilled enough to make the difference in a tight situation. That was the rule they played by, but in general, he respected those that kept the order unless it was going to cost way more lives than it should. Then he would question the order. He had a right to know why he was throwing his life down.

"This person was someone I considered my equal, but apparently, they likely never saw it that way," he replied and leaned his cheek on his hand, looking as casual as ever about the whole story. It bothered him though. Carter had been someone that he had automatically respected and that was difficult for him. Hell, he respected her more than he respected Rogers.

"It wasn't meant to be. I'm used to it; my manner isn't easy for some people to swallow and I get it." He considered helping out with the clinic, offer to be the muscle again and assist with some aspects of patient care, but it was likely to cause a scene and he wasn't interested in that.

As much as TJ suspects he doesn't like rehashing this particular situation because it bothers him more than he wants to admit, she prefers not to press the issue when it's clearly bothering him - even if he won't admit it. Instead, she chooses to tease a little, because he laughed the last time she (tried to) lighten the conversation.

"Your manner isn't easy for some people to swallow?" Her eyes go wide as if this is absolutely untrue and she looks him over, suddenly enthralled. "This brusque, no-nonsense military type might rub people the wrong way?" She sits back, her grin sly. "I have no idea what might give you that idea." Mock seriously, she leans close. "I guess this is the point where I say something about your hidden soft side and promise not to tell anyone?"

Does he have one? She's not sure, but he'd been nice to her and, despite the story he'd just told, TJ had a feeling that he might not be all hard ass all the time.

Edited 2018-08-22 03:07 (UTC)

Rumlow didn't hesitate to allow the topic of conversation to shift, to lighten, and to reflect more on them. He even smirked when she mocked him because it was true, and she might be one of the few that could understand that his attitude was out of drive and being beaten into shape with the military rather than because he had grown up an asshole (which he had).

"I don't have a hidden soft side," he replied, running his finger over the top of his glass. "So there are no secrets to keep on that end. I'm all stone over here." His smirk remained.

"After all, I'm not a medic. They're the ones with the soft sides."

"I can tell."

Maybe her sarcasm game isn't as on point as his is, but TJ likes the smirk and tilts her head to watch him, still deciding whether or not he actually has a soft side before turning her head and motioning for a refill.

She's just in time to roll her eyes at his comment about medics and soft sides, focusing her gaze on his as she shakes her head once. "Is that what you think, medics have soft sides? I'm only here because your bones came out of your hand and I wanted to see if they'd do it again."

TJ doesn't blink as she says it and neither do her lips twitch. Soft side, maybe, but she's also soldier. Tough is not new to her... but neither is having a soft side.

Rumlow had done way too many terrible things to be considered having a soft side, and he was friendly at best to some people. He wasn't about to let his guard slip on him now, not with her sarcastic scrutiny either. Maybe she couldn't decide if he had one. Good, people could be less disappointed that way.

"You have to, what you helping men and women hold their guts in and tying off arteries in the field. You guys are tough as Hell, but you've got your head bent to keeping other soldiers alive." He leaned forward towards her, raising his eyebrows as he waited to see if she would contest him on that point.

"Do you want me to start punching the table to see if we can keep your professional interest?"

TJ certainly isn't there to judge him on whether or not he has a soft side - past or present. If asked outright, she'll give him her professional opinion on him and likely be wrong. That said, she absolutely understood keeping people at a distance for their benefit. It was safer that way.

"There's nothing soft about holding onto someone's insides or watching them bleed out. Anyone can fake comfort."

Only then does she lean in. "Since my interest is only professional, you don't have to worry about it, but please don't." She winks at him. "I'd rather not get kicked out."

"No, there isn't, but you do it anyway," he reminded. And yeah, anyone could comfort, but the medics were down there trying to clean up the war wounds while the rest of them held hands and talked the guy through it. Sometimes preventing suicide. "What you do is real, we're the ones that fake comfort."

He flexed his hand pointedly because he definitely was willing to entertain her by banging his hand on the table. "Why would you get kicked out? We're just drinking and then an accident happened!"

"I'll concede."

He was right and while she could continue to argue the finer points and nitpick with him, she really didn't want to. It would bring up memories that she didn't want to explore on a night out when she could be having fun.

Her eyebrows went up when he flexed his hand and she watched him for a moment before she lifted her gaze to his again. Her amusement was obvious, and she goes for a healthy swallow of her new drink.

"Not if you start banging on the table. If we get rowdy, they're definitely going to kick us out."

Probably not, actually, given what she'd seen the last time, but she wasn't sure she was sober enough to pick pieces out of his skin again. She was, however, on the verge of laughter.

"I knew you'd have to eventually." That was said on the cheeky side.

He knew that neither of them particularly wanted to deal with bones, blood or whatever else to come flying out of his body at this point. It might spoil the evening and so far it had been pleasant. A part of him was curious what her reaction would be to an up close and personal encounter with this strange ability he may or may not be developing.

"They definitely won't. You remember how we met, right? I was banging my hand on the table to encourage a dare." He grinned. It wasn't worth the risk all the same. He preferred to keep his bones in his body.

For his cheek he got another slow shake of her head and she stares at him while she takes a drink. At this point, she's going to let the alcohol hit and deal with whatever happens later. Honestly, bones and clinics and all of it is too much work for the night and she's still going to laugh about it later. She's not even sure how they got side tracked into it.

"I'm pretty sure I'm never going to forget how we met," she said, eyeing his hand critically. "I was pretty sure that you were going to need surgery. " A pause. "And the dares--" She looked around the bar and then at him. "Okay, you first. I dare you to confess something no one else knows."

There was no way to know if he was going to tell the truth, tell her something everyone knew, or even play by the rules, but it was something.

He smirked when she resorted to returning to drinking. He actually ordered a drink for himself, aware it would probably taste like garbage but was willing to indulge a bit now that they had apparently moved through the meat of their conversation. So now they could just have a good time, shoot the shit and enjoy the common company of a fellow soldier.

"I was pretty certain I was going to need surgery too," he said with a chuckle. "But I guess we just dodged that bullet. I mean, we can push our luck. I'm not afraid to take a risk."

He squinted at her for the request and then sat back in his seat as he contemplated something that no one else knew. On matters such as that, he had no problem being honest. There were aspects of his past which he knew was screwed up. "Okay, but no tears: when I was a kid, I found my mother's body after she committed suicide."

TJ is all for pushing luck if it means small surgery. Sewing his hand shut, maybe. She doesn't want to be the one to explain to an actual doctor that she was the one to encourage him to take risks that actually get him hurt. She just... wants to experiment a little.

And, as she's nodding along, taking a drink from her drink, she waits expectantly for whatever secret he's going to impart. It's a very good thing that she's swallowed and is merely waiting for him to speak because he takes her off guard with what he says. She knows for a fact that he says it specifically to shock her and the 'no tears' warning had barely settled before he finished his sentence but still.

Damn. She blinks, nods once, then clears her throat.

"That's something no one else knows?" How could that be if he was a kid? What kind of horrible circumstances...? She was trying to work through it and, because it's still a night out with drinking and supposed fun, she says, "I'm sorry."

He figured that they would get drunk, probably test what his bones would do and then try to figure out how to figure it out. He also doubted that it would go well, but likely they would have a good laugh about it. She better have top notch skills if he managed to do something as stupid as he would have as a boy.

He shrugged his shoulders, delaying his response because his drink arrived and he took a sip from it. It was purple and fizzed something fierce, but it wasn't as bad as it could be. "Yeah," he said simply. "When I realized what happened, I ran away and never told anyone." He probably should have called emergency services, but he had been shocked and frightened, so he had run. "I came home after paramedics showed up and given the news like I had never seen."

He had gotten over it, and besides, that was just the start of a down slide on the rest of his childhood. He had grown up very fast after that. He waved a hand in the air. "I don't need apologies. It was a long time ago, and I'm over it."

Another drink or two and she'll probably do anything for a laugh at this point. It's not fair to admit it, but the apology wasn't for what happened but for asking a question that made him feel like he had to answer that way. It wasn't in TJ's nature to cause another person harm that hadn't been agreed upon beforehand - like his previous injuries - so it was a little out of her league.

"Then I won't mention it again."

And she wouldn't. What she was going to do instead was finish her drink instead. It would be several minutes before she ordered another one, but that verbal misstep was on her. Honestly, dares were foreign to her, so she wasn't surprised it went badly. Changing the subject from dares to his body seemed like a better idea. "When do you want to see what your body can do?"

"No worries. Like I said, I'm over it. You asked for something, and I told you," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "It was my choice to tell you after all. I could have made something up." And maybe with anyone else, he likely would have. TJ just sort of had him on a similar level, even if they came from wildly different backgrounds and worlds. In the end, they were still soldiers and she treated him like one, and he liked to think he treated her as one.

He sipped his drink and then smirked at her. "How about a few more drinks in and we'll start? Won't be scientific, but damn if it won't at least be entertaining, right?" It wouldn't be the first time he might be sutured by a drunken medic before. He was game.

"A few more drinks in and I can't promise that I'll be able to fix whatever you do to yourself," she told him with a wry grin. "Maybe I'll put it on hold and let you catch up."

Truth be told, no matter what he'd said, it wouldn't have lowered the amount of respect she had for him. He was clearly good at what he did, and, despite any work related issues he'd had in the past with people in the area, she couldn't imagine it reflecting badly on him.

"Let me go back to what you said about dragons," and not necessarily why or who in his case, "and ask where you're supposed to see one."

"I trust in your abilities, even while intoxicated," he replied with a grin. "As long as you promise me that we won't go off in the middle of the night a get a terrible tattoo. That crosses the line for me." He didn't think she was the type, and he knew he wasn't the type to agree. Worst was they stumbled around laughing in the snow trying to remember where they were staying he figured.

He shook his head and took another sip from his drink. "I'll have you know that I have a very time-honoured reputation of being a cheap drunk, so don't wait for me. I'll be three-sheets to the wind in no time." It was due to him not drinking much.

"God, I have no idea. Where do dragons even live? Maybe somewhere around Wyver. It's the dragon city or something."

"One terrible tattoo is enough for me," she assures him with a laugh and shakes her head as she does so. "And no, you can't see it, know what it is, anything."

She even holds up a hand to stave off that line of questioning. It wasn't while she was drunk, it was while she was young, and the answer is just 'no'. It's not anything anyone sees unless she's wearing too few clothes to care, so she's not worried about it, but still. She's definitely not talking someone else into a tattoo they might regret. Unless he won't.

Eyebrows go up as he talks about getting drunk easy and she adds, "This'll be something to see. We can get drunk and go dragon hunting."

He looked positively scandalized! "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you can't just dangle that in front of me and snatch it away! That's unbearably cruel!" Now he was endlessly curious of what kind of tattoo she would have which she just wouldn't share. He thought they were friends! "Is it in a scandalous place? Come on, give, give, give!"

He was confident that he could get the information - even a tidbit - out of her over time, but he would have to work for it. She seemed like she wouldn't give up information easily after all, but damn! His eyes dropped to scan her and despite all the clothing they had to wear in the cold, he was trying to find out a good place for an embarrassingly bad tattoo.

"...you realize it's unlikely here. We'll just freeze to death," he remarked. "And I'm only getting drunk with and for you if I get to know more about this tattoo."

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