The Metropolis Dork Squad, Captain America, and the Falcon in... Angst, Death, and Taxes

[stands_for_hope]

[continued from here]

The day had arrived. The trap had been set.

They'd gone to Lois's apartment the day before and made their intentions clear, hoping that with a short period of time, the HYDRA forces wouldn't be able to pull together anything that was too hard to handle.

Jim's paycheck had come in, so he'd treated a rather delicious dinner for the three of them, which had been followed up with some surveillance work, a couple of flights over the various buildings to scout for good positions (both to look for snipers and to drop Lois), and a watching of The Incredibles since there weren't any good games on.

Lois hadn't quite gotten Jim into a french braid with flowers, but she had managed to twist up a few smaller braids and tuck the remainder into a pony tail to keep the worst of it out of his face. If Lois was happy about it as much for it's utility as to give Jim a firm, physical reminder of the people who cared about him... well, she wasn't about to say it out loud.

Clark was with them until roughly half an hour before and informed them just before he left that Captain America was on the ground, apparently sketching one of the ruined and as yet unrepaired buildings on a bench nearby with large 'easel case' while the Falcon was half a mile away on a rooftop. Thankfully, while a good portion of the surrounding area had been destroyed during the attack on Metropolis, this neighborhood was semi-functional (if largely empty during the weekend) so he wasn't entirely out of place.

That just left Lois, her HYDRA pin tucked in place at her collar, and Jim in the empty office room, doing their best to psych themselves into believing this would work.

...and Clark going to investigate the singular figure hiding out on one of the higher rooftops nearby.

Comments

[kolodnoykovki]

But he shook his head. "I think," he said, "that I should... be alone for a little while. I'll get back soon enough. I mean." He nodded toward his left shoulder. "Bring on a mugger or something."

[stands_for_hope]

"Don't snap him into two many pieces. They get messy," Lois said, but the little smile said other things.

"See you at home, Uncle Jim."

Clark just nodded. They'd see him at home when he got there.

[kolodnoykovki]

"Don't forget to give him my phone number. I said he could have it." Then, looking to Sam, he said, "Sorry for breaking your wings and trying to kill you."

And then he closed the door behind him, starting on the way home.

It was a decently long walk, and that was fine. He needed the length. Needed the time. He didn't even have his eyes open for some of it and, thankfully, he wasn't challenged. It looked like people were loathe to mess with a man with one sleeve on and enough stubble to look rough.

He felt rough, so it was appropriate.

[stands_for_hope]

When he got there, Clark was there, TV on for background noise since nothing in particular seemed to be on. He had a beer in his hand and he was flopped out on the couch with his glasses on the coffee table and his hair back to the rough tumble it tended towards when he wasn't playing a role. He rose a hand in greeting when Jim walked in.

"I'm picking up Lois in a little bit. She couldn't quite miss out on the chance for an interview with three superheroes in the room."

If Jim looked, he'd see the bushel of bananas hanging from the banana hook in the kitchen and the carton for a fresh six pack of beer in the garbage. Clark wasn't asking, but it was clear that Jim could have his attention if he wanted it. Or if he needed it.

[kolodnoykovki]

"Guess she can interview me eventually," Jim said, going into the kitchen and getting both a banana and a beer. Weird combination, but right then, it was what he wanted. "Since I'm officially not on Hydra's side now."

He dropped onto the other end of the couch, drink and banana left on his lap while he pulled down the sleeve that covered the shine of his metal arm and then tossed it onto the table beside Clark's glasses. "My middle name's gonna be William."

[stands_for_hope]

"She already got me," he said conversationally as he took in the beer and the banana and smiled a little at the oddity of the pairing.

"William? Any reason for William?"

[kolodnoykovki]

"It's got 'am' in it," Jim answered, glancing over. "And nobody I know has the name. That's pretty much all."

[stands_for_hope]

"Sounds good to me," he agreed before sipping on his beer and leaning into the couch a little further.

"Any muggers?"

[kolodnoykovki]

"Nope. Apparently I look too threatening for muggers. Even when I'm moping." He shrugged. "Go figure."

[stands_for_hope]

"I wasn't going to call it moping," he pointed out with a firm point of one finger.

"But you can be kind of intimidating. You know. For most people."

[kolodnoykovki]

He snorted. "I'm fine with that. Means my wallet stays mine."

[stands_for_hope]

"I just tend to melt their shoes to the pavement," he admitted with a shrug and a sip of beer.

"Cause my 'cover' doesn't work so well for that."

[kolodnoykovki]

"No, Lois was right on that one," Jim admitted, popping the beer cap off with a metal ridge on his left hand. It was good for that, anyway. "You're a marshmallow."

Then, a moment later, he glanced at his arm, patted it with his right hand-- "Getting a little warm. Past time to take the sleeve off."

[stands_for_hope]

Clark made a face like a disgruntled cat.

"I'm not that much of a marshmallow."

[kolodnoykovki]

He raised an eyebrow in Clark's direction. "You radiate nice like the sun radiates heat."

[stands_for_hope]

He raised an eyebrow back.

"I just like to try and do what I can. I'm not always nice. Besides, you're biased."

[kolodnoykovki]

"Yeah, probably." And he wasn't going to deny it. Like he'd told Steve, he wasn't anything more than a hired gun and, now, a construction worker.

[stands_for_hope]

"I get grumpy," he noted, sounding more like a pout than any kind of genuine grumpiness, "it's not my fault you and Lois are good roommates. The asshole I had in college..."

He shook his head and took a long pull on his beer.

"There's a reason I only did one year at Kansas State. That guy was going to drive me to something unpleasant. And his girlfriend kept groping me when she 'accidentally' tripped on his mess."

[kolodnoykovki]

"When I was--" Your age. No. "When I went out with girls, I would've enjoyed that. But college." He shook his head. "Lucky ass."

[stands_for_hope]

"Went on a scholarship," he said with a shrug, "academic, since I wasn't allowed to do all that well in sports."

He glanced over at Jim.

"And there is nothing pleasant about getting two inch nails constantly diving at your crotch."

[kolodnoykovki]

"Two-inch, what the hell?" Jim blurted. "How can a girl even have nails that long and do anything? That'd get in the way all the time!"

[stands_for_hope]

"It's a style! It's not one I like, but it was popular then."

He shrugged and sipped at his beer.

"Besides, I had a girlfriend."

[kolodnoykovki]

"'Course you did. You're not a bad looking guy." Jim shrugged, taking a drink. "And you're a marshmallow."

[stands_for_hope]

"Marshmallows don't shove a truck full of lumber through the truck," he said with a little snort before finishing off his beer. He glanced at the bottle for a moment before checking Jim's.

"You want another one?"

[kolodnoykovki]

"Not yet. I'm not sure that getting drunk, or trying to, would be the greatest idea tonight. Thanks for the bananas, though." He'd consider that a good thing. And the paint on his arm.