Apology Alcohol

February 13, 2018:

The former Heralds of the Demon Bear, as part of the apology tour, check in with Emery and Owen. There is alcohol and a significant amount of awkwardness.

Not Luke's Bar :(

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Matt Murdock, Kinsey Sheridan, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The peace after the rampage of the Demon Bear was a well-earned peace. Well, absent a few mop-up operations that needed to happen immediately after the whole ordeal wrapped, like Matt Murdock's girlfriend having an evil AI in her, and Jessica being stuck in a soul gem. Still, on the whole, things have returned mostly to normal.

Jane has been a flurry of furious, guilty activity, but Bucky's natural inclination when in a horrific guilt spiral is 1) to hide and brood 2) to go on a spree of ill-advised violence. Being that the culprit for 'mind controlling him and using his skills for evil' is already dead this time, though, there hasn't been a lot of outlet for #2.

Which left him mostly with #1. So he's hidden from everyone they know ever since the Bear was slain. Or tried to — Jane knew better than to let him.

Such it was that she eventually stole his phone, got a certain Emery Papsworth's number out of it, and made some calls about drinks and apologies owed. The initial location suggested was Luke's bar.

…which, well, didn't pan out, and was kind of awkward. But backup plans were arranged!

It took some effort on Jane's part to get Bucky pried out of his corner and kicked out the door, but once he started moving it was easier to keep him moving, sort of like a snowball rolling down a hill. They're on their way to the spot in question, Bucky already complaining. "I need to change the security on my phone," he grumbles. "You little shit."


To most, Emery is just that 'Irish Butler' or 'That single dad with the 5 year old'. or 'That dude that headbutts and bites monsters. Tonight, he is 'that Irish dude that paid alot of money in cash to rent out the bar they agreed to meet at. Why? Just in case, in his words to Owen, 'they are now possesed by evil father christmas or some shite like that'

He wears a comfortable pair of fitted designer jeans…dark blue of course and a fitted cream colored henley that matches the cream colored beanie that keeps his long hair from falling into his face. The pub is Irish, duh, and the bar is fully stocked and the Irishman can be currently standing on a table, unlit cigarette tucked behind his ear and a half-drunk glass pint of beer sloshing dangerously.

"Alright…try to get it in me mouth this time." There are goodies at the bar, but he's referring to the bowl of cheese balls and another of maltese…or maybe the strawberry tarts who know, with lips parted. He believes in Owen. Or someting.


Owen Mercer's hastily constructed second chance at life is falling apart. The bar where he worked is a now smoldering pile of ashes. He managed to make it through one encounter with the bat folks without outright picking a fight with them. He started using heroin again, something he swore he was done with in this new life. He is seeing an occasional supervillain of the Gotham variety, whom he is secretly spying on for the government and he just nearly got in a physical fight with her. His clean start is officially dead, time of death let's be judicious and say February 2018.

But in spite of all that Owen has been in Manhattan for the day trying to do some good. He met with the lawyer, Murdock, to try and figure out a way to help Luke. He managed to stay relatively clean for the day. The relative there being that he hasn't touched anything harder than some whiskey in his coffee throughout the day. Owen likes to think of sobriety as relative.

The text indicator on his phone fills him with dread at first. Is it her? Does he want it to be? After a few pointed minutes of ignoring it, Owen opens it and finds a text from Emery to his great relief. The reply is then immediate, positive and full of emojis and a drunk Ron Swanson dancing reaction gif.

And smash cut to Owen at the bar, his left hand covering his eyes and his right arm making slow back and forth motions before perfectly lofting a cheeseball to Emery's mouth. He has cleaned up quite a bit from the last time Emery saw him. His face has healed, his clothes are clean and his hair is not a total wreck. He has a beer on the table in front of him and a cigarette hanging from his lips, unlit as well.

"Seriously, I'm not going to miss … for another 5 or 6 drinks anyway."


Seconds before entering the bar, Jane Foster lingers. Absolutely not because she's nervous, not because it's a mite nerve-wracking to meet relative strangers when your poor first impression was a prior attempt to calculate their free will away.

Definitely not that, and instead the absolute nonsense spouting out of Bucky Barnes's mouth, like changing security to keep her out of his phone. "Ha!" she says. She laughs sharply, freely, then slants him up a look when he's not laughing along with.

"Oh, you're serious." Jane pauses. She laughs again, hard enough it jumps her shoulders. Sure. "Conquer snapchat first and get back to me, old man."

It's not often she gets to rib him, so she does it well, bumping his side, before Bucky no doubt does his old world chivalry thing and gets the door for them both.

Inside is — emptier than she expects. It hits Jane foremost, in a wash of anxiety and relief both — they're friends of Dani of Jessica, they're trusted, it's not like this is some orchestrated maneuver to corner the former-heralds and administer some revenge, right? — but she holds in her nervousness because Bucky is surely feeling it, himself, hundred-fold. It's up to her to maintain normalcy.

And to trust back. Trust and enjoy that, hey, the quiet means less people who will be here, gawking, definitely recognizing Bucky, most likely recognizing her — the last thing she needs.

So here stands the former songbird-herald of the Demon Bear, no longer soulless, no longer possessed, no longer swathed with demonic magic. Devoid of all that, Jane Foster is just… a woman, five feet and not even a hundred pounds, preppy in her jeans and bomber and pink scarf, and looking a little shy to behold Emery and Owen both. She recognizes and remembers them both. Remembers hurting them. Awkward. How do you even start?

"Uh… hi," she begins. Smooth, Jane. Very smooth. "It's really nice to see you guys. After…. um. I'm Jane. You both probably do this. This is Bucky. Probably know that too. This is weird. This place is nice. Oh, is that beer?"


Since her return Dani has kept herself quite busy. Checking in on people, apologizing, making sure everyone is okay, apologizing more, and also pushing out the idea of whether people would willingly join a loose coalition to fight world-shaking-magical-threats. Between that and her responsibilities to SHIELD and Xavier's Mansion, Dani has kept herself pretty well occupied.

However, that doesn't mean she's ignoring her friends. New or old. She's not. She's just making sure she doesn't have too much free time to think. Thinking can be dangerous, especially after the whole saga of the Demon Bear.

As such, when her phone buzzed with a message from Jane about drinks the woman sent an easy text back. - I'm down for beer. -

Because who isn't?

So, here comes Dani, bringing up the rear behind Bucky and Jane. Their banter is heard and it causes the black-haired woman grin, before her brown eyes flick to the room at large. It's easy enough to spot the boys (Emery and Owen) and as soon as everyone is within speaking distance, Dani says, "Evening."

Both men are given a smile, though Dani's smile shows a touch of strain when she looks to Owen. After all, this is the first time she's seen the man since the their last encounter.


As usual, Bucky Barnes is taking his ribbing about being Such An Old Man with ill grace. The steps of this dance are a little more rusty than usual — that weary sadness still dogs at the edges of his eyes — but at least he meets her in them. That's a good sign.

"I know how to Snap & Chat," Bucky grumps, "young lady."

Nonetheless, he too seems relieved at the relative emptiness of the bar — probably due to the earlier hour — which makes it easy to pick out the two they're here to meet. "Good to see you again, under better circumstances," he says to Emery, his eyes tracking wryly upwards to where the Irishman stands on a table. "…and in good spirits." He ushers himself and Jane closer, towards the bar, where he leans towards the bartender and pushes his card over. "Keep it open."

That squared, he turns his gaze towards Owen. "I don't think we've had the pleasure to formally meet. Uh. Under normal circumstances. I, uh — "

Jane helpfully introduces them both while he's dithering. She's Jane. He's Bucky. Oh, is that beer?

Oh, is that beer?

Behind Jane, Bucky palms his face and just… scrubs. "Evening, Danielle," he says, muffled through his fingers.


Fists pump in the air as Emery crunches down on the puff of cheese flavored preservatives with relish. "Well, when ye start missin' then I'll know its time to try to talk to ye about serious tings and get ye back to babysittin' trustworthiness." Then the Irishman spins smoothly on the table towards the entrance, taking a swig from his large glass and raising it towards the people who are entering.

The fact that his free hand twitches slightly and hovers near his hips is the only sign that he's on edge or on guard as he notes each person's entrance with a quirk of an eyebrow. He does hop down off of the table though with a sweeping arm of a flourish. "I can now see why they jimmied ye with the Gothic Tweety bird ting, voice as perky and trilling a song bird's." There's a flash of a dimpled grin.

He does head towards the bar though, pausing to offer Dani a wink and a hint of a bow. "And you are lookin' as lovely as ever Miss Dani." And a look over to Bucky. He just stares. Slow blink. Thoughtful pursing of his lips. A look to Owen. Ten back to Bucky. Slow sip of his drink.

He just slips the cigarette from behind is ear and palms his lighter from a pocket to offer towards the man. "It probably wasn't as good for ye as it was for me, and ye probably don't remember it but…ye were a wee bit of a biter mate. I still might need a cigarette though, I've already smoked mine."


Owen is of course not surprised at all that he made the shot, but he celebrates anyway. He is two fists in the air mid-spin when the new arrivals come. He keeps his hands in the air for perhaps an ill advised amount of time while looking at them. He looks at them a bit confused for a minute before saying "Jane! Bucky! Get a drink!" He would pour, but the bartenders get annoyed when Owen jumps behind the bar. Not to say that won't happen before midnight, because that is totally going to happen.

When Dani comes in though, his confused smile gets an even more forced twinge to it. It's reaching full on crazy unhinged. Grreat! This is exactly who he wanted to drink with. Really. Fan. Tas. Tic.

Quietly to Emery he whispers "You left a shit ton of details out of that text limerick dick."

Recovering, he slaps on fake grin and lights up his cigarette in the bar, thankful that Emery has the kind of money that lets him act like the terrible person he is. "Dani. Glad you could make it…" Yea, that sounds a lot like Why are you here? "Grab a drink."


With a double-take over her shoulder, Jane veers a look back at Bucky Barnes's elborate and entirely unnecessary gesture to her deep and meaningful questions on the world and intelligent remarks on its facts.

"What!" she says at him, affecting huffy, though there's no heat in her voice, neither in her face; she's quietly thrilled to see him loosening up already. She might not be able to chase all the darkness from his eyes, but she'll sure as hell try. It's a start. Better than him sitting alone in their dark apartment.

Of course, her interrogation distracts to see a new arrival.

"Dani," Jane greets with transparent surprised, pleased to glance back over her shoulder and see the once-bear in attendance. Heralds, represent! "Glad you see you again. How's Brightwind?" A beat. "He's not outside in the cold, right? There might be room for him to… get snuck in —"

Bucky probably won't be a fan of that idea. But Jane is a girl, and girls love horses.

Never went to horse camp though. Only math camp.

Shrugging off her winter coat, she opts to start small — because Jane IS small — and politely asks for a pint of hard cider from the tender. The easy reception fron Emery and Owen both seem to gentle her by the moment, if not disspell a large part of her early anxiety. Perhaps not as awkward as intended. Taking a seat, pretending not to notice Owen's lacklustre — half-a-lustre? — reaction towards Dani, slightly awkward, Jane finds herself back in the brief trajectory of Hurrican Emery.

His charm makes her flush up at the corners, awful with any sort of compliment. "Well, I," she says, before the BITER comment aimed Bucky's way makes her cough, a sudden laugh escaping her. "So, since — there wasn't really proper introductions amidst all the biting, you should tell us what you two do. Aside from fighting evil versions of James, Dani, and me."


Bucky and Jane get a nod from Dani, as well as a greeting, "Hey you two. Thanks for the invite." She adds, before her expression lightens at Jane's evident worry upon Brightwind's behalf. With a grin, the woman shakes her head, "Nah, he's okay. He actually flew back to the barn. When I'm ready he'll just fly on back. He's fast like that."

Then it's over to Owen and Emery. One has to wonder if the awkwardness will ever leave and if words will ever come naturally again.

She's sure they will, but for today, for this particular evening, it's all about the vague feeling of unease that can be felt.

Emery's description of Jane earns an amused look from Dani. In fact, when her brown eyes slide over to the Irishman she can't quite stop the wry, "Smooth.", from being said, before she properly greets the man. "And same can be said to you - you look quite dashing, as always."

Now it's to Owen and this is where Dani's gaze darkens slightly. Where a note of uncomfortable silence might be found from her. Still, it's only a moment before manners kick in. "Owen. Glad to see you too. What're you drinking? I'll get you another, it's the least I can do." And while Bucky slid his own credit card over, Dani likewise pushes a small wad of bills to the bartender. "For the two over there." Indicating Owen and Emery, and then she's likewise getting a drink. A beer. She turns around with the bottle in hand just in time for Emery's words about biting. That pulls a sharp snort of amusement from Dani, though she doesn't add anything yet, not with Jane's question asked.

Evil versions, indeed. Dani can't quite stop the wince that twitches briefly across her expression.


What?! Jane huffs. Bucky peers at her from between his fingers. "You gonna tell us water's wet, next?"

He does take pity on her afterwards, though, letting his hand drop and fishing instead for his pack of cigarettes. Everyone else is doing it, so Jane can excuse him an indulgence this once. Lighting up, he snorts as he overhears Jane asking after the health of the HORSE, of all things. "Whoever heard of a horse in a bar?" he grumbles. "Much less that unholy creature."

As they approach, Bucky's eyes flick tellingly towards that slight movement of Emery's free hand. He notices it, but he says nothing and does not react beyond that. He understands the gesture, and moreover accepts it is deserved. His eyes avert, his gaze briefly bleak, and he distracts himself with ordering a drink at the bar.

Beyond that, however, both Emery and Owen seem rather… well, relaxed, all told, in both their greetings and their demeanor. Their treatment of the situation as eminently normal (other than Owen's awkwardness around Dani, which Bucky doesn't even try to get into), is a breath of fresh air Bucky didn't even know he needed, one that helps alleviate some of the guilt and fear. Yes — he had feared this, as he had feared facing anyone that he had encountered while under the influence of the demon.

…Not precisely for the reason Emery soon enumerates, though. He stares a moment as Emery refers to him as a biter. He blinks slowly. "I remember," he eventually says, taking the cigarette from his mouth after a deep inhale. "You oughta be flattered, I don't bite just anybody."

Jane asks for some more proper introductions as to what they do, in between biting. Bucky's smirk widens a little. His glass of bourbon arrives a moment later, a welcome sight. Bucky pauses, waiting until the bartender's back is turned, before he stealthily fishes a flask out of his pocket and starts adding something to it. Brightwind isn't here to take his mead.


Emery just returns Owen's whisper with a quiet aside of, "Like feck I was going to meet them here by meself ye dopey arse. I know I'm crazy but I'm not that mad." A pause before he's tugging his phone out of a pocket and his thumb is working over time to send the mesage: And she has a flyin' horse, okay. A flyin' horse. I have a 5 year old girl. This is not a connection I can afford to have you fecking up. Calm your tits and stay charmin' or so help me god I'll tell Kennis ye be willin' to take her to the 'Porcelein Pretties Princess' convention. Hours and hours of dolls and tiny girls if poofy dresses and glitter."

Then he's leaning over to pat the bar and place his pint glass back on the surface. "Start grabbin' those top shelf items and fill 'er up if ye please."

And Jane is adorable and not creepy and Dani is being sweet and the Butler is using Irish Charm to compensate for 'ahaha these jokers tried to kill me multiple times' awkwardness. "Oh right. They are totally not evil anymore, teh coma I was in for those couple of days and why I left teh texts about Kennis's breakfast cereal preferences was…cuz of all the shite it took to pull them from the tight grasp of Ursa Major's anus."

His shoulders roll tough at the question, head tilting to the side thoughtfully. What does he do? What does…he do? He tilts his head back as he tosses a maltese into the air and catches it in his mouth. A one moment finger is held up as he take a sip of his refilled pint and then hops up to sit on the bar, crossing his ankles and swinging his legs. "Emery Papsworth, Professional Butler and Certified Personal Assistant at yer service." Yep. No superhero street cred here. He slides a look over to Bucky and crosses his legs. "That baby face and those twinkling eyes are a /dangerous/ combination. Aren't they? They warned us about those American soldiers…" He tsks and quirks an eyebrow.


Evil versions. Right. It's a lot easier to disassociate the giant wolf and tiny shadow bird from the two people standing in front of him, than it is to differentiate evil Danielle from … this very similar looking Danielle that Owen guesses isn't all that evil looking? When she makes an effort, he smiles. Not like the nice, aww, all is forgiven smiles though. Nope.

"Emery rented out the place. He's buyin' tonight. But thanks for the offer."

He makes a finger motion at the bartender, one pointer finger and then again, sign for a 1 and 1. Okay that felt pretty darn good. He's warming up to her. Or at least warming up. At Jane's question about him, he smiles and says "I'm Owen. I'm a bartender. And I'm Captain Boomerang."

At that moment his shot of whiskey and pint of beer arrive perfectly so he can slam the shot for emphasis. With that done he takes a long drag of his cigarette and laughs maybe a touch too loud and says "God I love the sheer what the fuckery of telling people that. It really doesn't get old."


That wince from Moonstar isn't missed. Perceptive as Jane is, sometimes she can't rein in her own rambling until it's far too late. Or her even more-awkward sense of humour.

Determined to take it all way down a notch, she cements that private decision with a long, apologetic drink of her cider, draining half the pint in one go.

Probably not the best of plans, but she needs this. She really needs this.

And who needs this even more? Jane keeps half-an-eye on Bucky at all times, attentive but not hovering, but more than ready to arrest him mid-brood. At one point, he seems to drift into an unwieldy silence for half-a-beat to long, and she bumps comfortably into his closest arm and passes him her drink to try. Cider is amazing. He needs to taste things before he dulls them all, anyway, with his Asgardian mead.

Otherwise, pushing her dark hair behind one ear, Jane settles in for the easy conversation. And first off? "A butler?" she says to Emery, with equal parts surprise and amusement. "No wonder your cooking was phenomenal. Which — I definitely remember." If things are not awkward enough, soulless versions have crystal-clear memories. It's a moment enough to break up even her own good spirits, but the woman is nothing but emotionally-hardy.

There's obvious much unsaid about Mr. Papsworth, because — everyone in this room has witnessed it, but Jane seems to have no desire to chase anyone of their secrets. Circumstance divulged of enough already.

Owen, however, says it straight. Captain Boomerang. The name pauses her for a beat, the sheer incongruity with everything else, and she shares a momentary glance with Bucky. But Jane adapts easily, and with genuine interest. "So you're one of those vigilante heroes? Like Daredevil? Or one of the Titans?"

Meanwhile, Bucky and Emery keep making passes at each other. "Do I need to leave you two alone?" Jane asks dubiously, unable to conceal her amusement.


Unholy creature. That brings Dani's gaze to Bucky a moment. Amusement might be seen from her, perhaps because Brightwind has had similar things to say - or think, rather, about the Winter Soldier.

Emery's antics, because she knows some of this is for show, bring forth another smile from Dani - American Soldiers. That smile is mostly hidden, however, as she takes a drink of her own beer.

And when Bucky pours that Asgardian Mead into his own drink somewhere, in a barn, miles and miles away, a winged-horses raises his head upwards. He cocks his head to the side attentively listening, as something brushes against his magical senses. It brings a thought of home - of Asgard. So faint, but there.

Much like Jane, Dani's gaze turns to Owen when he admits so readily to who he is. Captain Boomerang. It's enough to bring a vague straightening from the woman as she now considers Owen in another light. "Well, being attacked with boomerangs now make much better sense to me. It's not often you see someone wielding those as their preferred weaponry. Especially explosive boomerangs…"

And while she could bring up the fact she's SHIELD, she doesn't. This is neither the time nor place and besides, she owes Owen. That's something in Dani's books.


The awkwardness is palpable. The former Winter Soldier also has hearing that is many times sharper than a normal man's. He doesn't catch words, but he catches enough tone that he knows: both men were — still are — wary of them. Briefly, he feels immensely tired. He cannot remember the last time he was trusted. Perhaps he is not something that should ever be trusted. The last time he thought he was safe —

His thoughts drift as he notices Jane, drinking determinedly of her cider to quell her own awkwardness. If there was one thing that could always reliably distract him from his own unhappiness, it is the knowledge that someone he loves needs him. For many years it was Steve Rogers, and without pause or question Bucky put aside his own fears, subsequent to his first capture by Hydra, to follow him in silent support. Nowadays it's Jane… and he's letting her cheer herself up by allowing her to drive his own dark mood away.

He leans into her as she bumps against him, and when she offers some of her drink, he accepts.

Emery's response is, as one might expect, circumspect. Bucky doesn't say anything of what the Winter Soldier saw of the man. He merely drinks his mead-spiked whiskey — only to cough on it when Emery escalates the flirting a few steps past what Bucky was strictly prepared to tank. He was an inveterate flirt in his youth, certainly — but with women. Worse, Jane starts to take notice. "No!" he says, a little too hastily to her question.

Fortunately, Owen distracts everyone with his declaration of profession.

Bucky looks at Jane. He looks at Owen. He blinks. "I guess that explains the boomerangs," he agrees, after a pause, letting Jane and her endless curiosity field the questions.


The Butler gives Owen a 'this is why we can't have nice things' face when he divulges that people really didn't have to pay the bartender. He rolls his eyes and takes another healthy swing of his drink. "Because, Master Mercer, as I keep tellin' ye. It sounds like the name of an Australian Male Stripper. Ye introduce yerself and I'm reflexively reaching for me wallet to see if I have any ones." He drawls with the fond antagonism that signifies an Irish person sees you almost as family.

So much love.

Then to Jane he just nods slowly. "Aye, a Butler." He repeats softly, a flicker of wariness and acceptance in his dark gaze as he does indeed realize they do remember everything that was happening on the dark side. "I'm glad ye liked the soup. I'll have to make you some more one day." He waves a hand vaguely before offering softly. "Hey, look at me luv. Sometimes when we lose tings it hits us harder because we don't realize how precious or important they were. Now that ye 'ave once more what was missing?" He looks from Dani to Jane and to Bucky and even to Owen before looking back at the others. "Learn from who you are without somethin' to ground ye and speak to your heart, and live better now than ye ever did before. Okay?"

He slaps his knee. "Okay then." Then there's a wry grin as he looks between Bucky and Jane. "Dun worry, I've had me fill of American Soldiers and Nurses alike. They were alllll the rage with those uniforms and god they'd get all dandied up. A good leave left ye with lipstick stains on your collar, hickeys in hidden places and the occasional request to use your pomade. That cocky swagger and voice ye only usually heard on the radio before…ye knew you were in for a good time."

He winks and shrugs a shoulder, taking another swig of his drink. "Granted ye could only really talk about the lasses, but. Ya know." Then he points between Dani and Owen. "Dun fluff his ego or he'll never shut up about his perfectly aerodynamic exploding razor sharp curved destructildos…"


Jane's comment about him being a hero gets almost a full spit take. Thankfully it's off to the side and not actually on anyone. He throws his head back after to laugh properly and wipes even a fake tear from his eye at the thought of being a Titan. Oh God, Red Robin's face if he applied.. when he applies now because that is just so horrific it must happen.

"No. Not really. I'm … just startin out on this hero thing. I think defendin Stark towers was my coming out party." Yes, he is obviously baiting Emery with that phrase.

He smiles graciously at Dani and is about to explain (very briefly) when Emery ever so helpfully chimes in. The comment might scandalize others but Owen just wants to clarify, "I have never weaponized a sex toy. Fruit, sure. Baked goods, obviously. And one pigeon. But no sex toys… " You can almost see the wheels turning. "Yet."


The very emphatic 'no!' from Bucky's direction has Jane dissolving into her own light laughter, already helped along by the alcohol in her blood.

She leans over to nudge her chin briefly to her poor boyfriend's shoulder, if only to help gird his fractured old world heterosexuality. Though Emery speaking of having fill of American soldiers?

"We should introduce Emery here to Steve," Jane conspires to Bucky aloud, the mental image of that meeting already playing along her lips. The butler might reconsider the No American Soldiers policy.

The woman seems apt to finish her cider on that — when Emery begins to speak somewhat more seriously and more meaningfully: the gentle call of his voice to her gives her pause, and beyond politeness, she finds herself listening. And —

Jane wasn't expecting this. Guardedness, maybe. Awkwardness, definitely. An emptiness over a table between groups of people with nothing to bind them than the fact that three people here nearly killed the other two. But this?

It's short, and sweet, and absolutely beautiful. And something she only realizes now some deep, damaged part of her soul was desperately needing. A dangerous shine comes to Jane's eyes — she's an easy, effortless crier, and it might just happen here — and she swallows back a rush of emotion. One of her hands slips into the crook of Bucky's arm, suddenly needy for contact.

"Thank you," she says, voice a little too-thin. Then, with a slightly shaky laugh, answers Emery's proposal with a: "Deal. It's the least I can do."

Thankfully, Owen's reaction to Potential Titan Membership is enough to pull Jane out of her almost-tears, nice as they are, and she laughs far more steadily.

A beat. "Actually, maybe I can do more. I'm an astrophyscist and consultant on the books. Off the books, I've found myself helping a lot of people like — well, vigilantes. Weapons. Armor. I can design and build things, no sweat. Owen, Emery. Either of you ever need anything in any capacity… pleasure's mine. We owe you two."


Poor Bucky. Poor Steve for that matter!

That's all Dani can briefly think, before she too listens to all the Butler has to say. His words cause her to look away, off to the side of the room, as the advice he gives.

And while Dani was right there with Emery - right there - for all of what he said. ALL OF IT. That last sentence of his pulls a reaction from Danielle Moonstar. Specifically that last WORD which causes Dani's beer bottle to pause midway to her mouth. She stares now at Emery, it just can't be helped, but thankfully her stare doesn't last long.

"Ha." Is what Dani eventually says, her head shaking with both amusement and astonishment. Only Emery. Only he could get away with saying something like that.

Though Owen is definitely a close second behind the Butler. So very close.

Jane's offer to build Owen better weaponry is met with a slight side-eye from the ex-Herald, but perhaps that's something to be said later. Out of earshot of Owen. For now, however, the black-haired woman says, "I think it's time for another round." And with that said Danielle Moonstar, SHIELD agent, and friend, turns to the bartender to get a round for everyone within their group.

Conversations like this definitely need all the alcohol. All of it.

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