Steve's reaction to the touch against his neck is gratifying. He's halfway to his feet, but he stills and his eyelids half-lower, like some kind of instinct is telling him to get as much of that as he can while they have a quiet moment. It's stabilizing--not stabilizing enough, perhaps, but helpful--and he gives Tony a flicker of a smile, straightening when he lets go.
Tony's right, though. Steve has been operating under a driving need to get everything settled and handled right the hell now, like he expects them to have to leave right after they deal with the Tesseract. Like he's trying to get his goddamn affairs in order. Again, that's probably something instinctual, or maybe psychological damage, but Stark's promise that they have time comes as a minor revelation. They have nothing but time.
There's a single-cup coffee pot on the counter, and Steve sets it up while Tony talks, trying to examine his own assumptions. He wants Bucky out of Hydra's clutches yesterday. There are few things that torture him more than remembering how wrecked he was when Steve plucked him off Zola's experimental table the first time, and imagining that times seventy-plus years.
But they have to be utilitarian, here; attend to the mission at hand first, before the window of opportunity closes. And he's not being tortured while he's in cryostasis. Any time they get him before the Lemurian Star hijacking is a net gain. Steve pushes it out of his mind, for now, devotes himself to the problem at hand, and the man at hand, once again.
This time his smile is grim. "Yeah, eidetic memory. I wish I could forget some things. But I could tell you what the other me is having for breakfast today, how long his morning run is, and what time he'll be heading for the local cafe to sketch..."
He peers at the nearest alarm clock, which displays the date as well as time. "Church is a good idea. He'll be there from about eleven-thirty until two or so before he heads back to the gym to punch things."
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Date: 2018-07-10 03:00 am (UTC)Tony's right, though. Steve has been operating under a driving need to get everything settled and handled right the hell now, like he expects them to have to leave right after they deal with the Tesseract. Like he's trying to get his goddamn affairs in order. Again, that's probably something instinctual, or maybe psychological damage, but Stark's promise that they have time comes as a minor revelation. They have nothing but time.
There's a single-cup coffee pot on the counter, and Steve sets it up while Tony talks, trying to examine his own assumptions. He wants Bucky out of Hydra's clutches yesterday. There are few things that torture him more than remembering how wrecked he was when Steve plucked him off Zola's experimental table the first time, and imagining that times seventy-plus years.
But they have to be utilitarian, here; attend to the mission at hand first, before the window of opportunity closes. And he's not being tortured while he's in cryostasis. Any time they get him before the Lemurian Star hijacking is a net gain. Steve pushes it out of his mind, for now, devotes himself to the problem at hand, and the man at hand, once again.
This time his smile is grim. "Yeah, eidetic memory. I wish I could forget some things. But I could tell you what the other me is having for breakfast today, how long his morning run is, and what time he'll be heading for the local cafe to sketch..."
He peers at the nearest alarm clock, which displays the date as well as time. "Church is a good idea. He'll be there from about eleven-thirty until two or so before he heads back to the gym to punch things."