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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/1Yi6EA7:
This never went anywhere, but it was going to be in the Full of Grace series somewhere. Maybe I’ll use it?
In the meantime, here’s some outsider-perspective Bucky characterization. 1400 words, corny jokes.
“Oh, hey, you’re new,” Ben Greene said, glancing over at his co-pilot as the man swung into the seat and buckled himself in efficiently. He was a white man, dark-haired, strong-jawed, with longish hair, in the standard uniform. “I didn’t notice anybody new on the roster.”
“Last-minute availability swap,” the man said, and fished out— what? His official SHIELD badge, like Ben was gonna ask to see it or something. He glanced over. “You really ought to check that, you know.”
“You couldn’t’ve got in here if you weren’t authorized,” Ben said, laughing, but he obediently looked at it. “James Buck.” Recent enrollment date, but long enough ago to have been through relevant training. And from the look of the guy, he was nobody’s green rookie.
“And I know you’re Greene,” Buck said. “I had a chance to look over the roster and all.”
“Watch who you’re callin’ green, rookie,” Ben said.
Buck gave him an impressively-deadpan stare. “Great,” he said. “A wise guy. I’ll buckle in.”
“I’m not quite up to comin’ up with a pun on Buck and buckle yet,” Ben said, “but rest assured, I’m workin’ on it.”
“That’s fuckin’ great,” Buck said. “Puns. Well, it takes some of the suspense outta wondering what’s gonna go wrong on this mission.”
“You sound pretty experienced,” Greene said.
“I was in the Army for like eighty years,” Buck said, “this ain’t my first rodeo.”
“Oh, the Army, eh?” Greene said. “What was your MOS?”
Buck gave him a sidelong look. “SF,” he said. “Sniper.”
“Really,” Greene said. “And you got a pilot cert now?”
“Well,” Buck said, “you know I got the eyes for it.”
“And the hands,” Greene said. “You make any real impressive kill shots?”
Buck shrugged. “Mostly I did urban stuff,” he said, “so, my distances aren’t anything to write your mom about, but I mean, I was pretty good at it,” he said.
“Like my whole family was military,” Greene said, “and I hadda be the black sheep.” Buck nodded, and Greene reached over and thwacked the back of his hand against Buck’s knee. “Get it! Black sheep!”
Buck gave him a completely flat stare.
“I’ll make you crack up before this mission’s over,” Greene vowed. “I get everybody.”
“I’ll crack up, all right,” Buck said, resigned. He pulled his flight helmet on and grabbed the clipboard to start working his way down it with perhaps a little more intent focus than was customary.
“How many hours you got in one of these?” Greene asked.
“Enough,” Buck said. He glanced over. “If it tells you anything, I’ve done more landings than takeoffs.”
“So you’ve seen action in ‘em,” Greene concluded.
“There ain’t really a kind of action I ain’t seen, in these or out of ‘em,” Buck said.
“Well,” Greene said, “if you were in the Army for eighty years.”
“Give or take,” Buck conceded.
“You done a few with SHIELD?” Greene asked.
Buck shrugged. “Done backup for the Widow,” he said. “I figure that’s a baptism by fire.”
“I hear she’s challenging,” Greene said.
“I won’t hear a word against her,” Buck said.
“You know, I heard she was bangin’ the Hulk,” Greene said, “and if that don’t tell you somethin’ about a woman—“
“I said,” Buck said, “I won’t hear a word against her, and I did mean that.”
“Oh,” Greene said, “I wasn’t figurin’ that was a word against her.”
“The Black Widow is not cheap meat,” Buck said. “Have some respect. It was an honor to hand her ammunition. One time she even touched my hand. I’ve never washed it since.”
Greene glanced over but Buck was still going stone-faced through his checklist. The guy was pretty clearly fucking with him, though. Yesss. This might be okay after all. “Which hand, just for reference?”
“Left,” Buck said, glancing over. He had gloves on, of course.
“I know not to touch that one then,” Greene said.
“Yeah, I had to switch to using that one for, you know,” Buck said. “I wouldn’t touch it either, if I weren’t me.” He went unconcernedly back to his checklist. “I think all my stuff is go over here, you got any special shit you want me to confirm?”
“Nah, I run a pretty normal ship,” Greene said. And flipped on the sound system. Buck stared in dismay at the display. “What, not a fan of the Eagles?”
“Classic rock?” Buck asked.
“A brother can like classic rock,” Greene said.
Buck let his breath out slowly. “It’s fine,” he said, “this is fine.”
Greene snorted. “Why, what are you a fan of?”
“Literally,” Buck said, “anything else, but this is okay.”
“I figured there wasn’t anybody in the world who didn’t at least ignore the Eagles,” Greene said.
“And like everybody ever old enough to pick the music on any mission I was ever on always fucking picked this kind of shit,” Buck said, “or occasionally, fucking, Metallica, so I got some hardcore associations with gory fucking death.”
“Shit,” Greene said, “I don’t wanna give you flashbacks.”
Buck snorted. “I didn’t say flashbacks,” he said. “I said associations. I’m subclinical on all that shit, bro, so don’t you worry your pretty little head. You can check out anytime you like but you can never leave.”
“Ready for boarding?” a chipper voice said over the headsets, Steve Rogers crackling bright as sunshine. He was like that sometimes, and Greene just loved that.
“We sure are, Cap,” Greene said, and punched the button to lower the rear hatch.
Buck shot him a look. “You didn’t ask for his auth code,” he said.
“Cap’s auth code,” Greene said. “In the middle of a secure facility. What, you some kinda stickler?”
“You don’t need a stick shoved up your ass to just adhere to fucking protocol,” Buck groused. “Christ.” He fitted his goggles on, like a tight-ass, and turned to glance back at the people filing on.
“You think that fuckin’ Dorito on legs there could be anybody but Cap,” Greene said. “Man, I worked with some real rule bound Army tightasses before but you’re in line to take the cake. I figured SF would make you a little more flexible.”
“It just makes you more paranoid,” Buck said. “I tell you what there’s nothing worse than takin’ a shortcut and losin’ guys to it, okay? I’m a tightass because I’ve seen every one of those fuckin’ rules get ignored and guys die from it. So yeah I want an auth code and I want to see a fuckin’ badge because you know what, I don’t know who’s on the gate today and a secure facility is only as secure as the dumbest fuckin’ idiot who works there.”
“Hey, Greene,” Cap said, which never failed to be thrilling. “Who’s the new guy?”
“James Buck,” Greene said. “Army alum. He’s a tightass, Cap.”
“My favorite kind,” Cap said. He couldn’t possibly have meant that as it sounded. He leaned in the doorway, and held out a hand. “Nice ta meetcha, Buck.”
“Same,” Buck said, shaking his hand efficiently. “You like it when people follow rules, huh Cap?”
“I do,” Cap said, “I do. It soothes my soul.”
“I wanted an auth code from you to open that rear hatch,” Buck said. “And Greene here says that’s ridiculous, but I figure, why we got ‘em if nobody’s gonna use ‘em?”
“Fair point,” Cap said. “He’s got a point, Greene. Nothin’ like a little healthy paranoia in your mission backup.”
“Not much healthy about my paranoia,” Buck said, “but it’s got me through and Psych cleared me, so, at least it’s not debilitating.”
The Black Widow curled an arm around Cap, and smacked his ass, which made him jump. “Hey now,” Cap said.
“Hey fellas,” the Widow said. “Oh! James! I remember you.”
“Hello, ma’am,’ Buck said, sitting up straighter.
“You didn’t cut your hair, did you?” she asked, nearly purring. She was a damn fine-lookin’ woman, but Greene wasn’t fool enough even to look.
“No, ma’am,” Buck said, gazing at her raptly.
“Good,” she said. “Well, I feel better knowing we’ve got a good shot on this mission.”
“Oh, oh, that hurts,” Greene said.
“Aw don’t take it personally, Greene,” she said. “It’s just that James is very good.” She most often was cool and professional, and it was sort of better when she was; the current sweetness was maybe a little too rich for Greene’s tastes.
“I guess I’ll have to see it to believe it,” Greene said.
“Let’s hope you don’t, actually,” Cap said. “This is supposed to be a quiet one, but I’ve learned not to trust milk runs.”
Buck, unexpectedly, crossed himself. “Don’t even jinx us,” he said.
This never went anywhere, but it was going to be in the Full of Grace series somewhere. Maybe I’ll use it?
In the meantime, here’s some outsider-perspective Bucky characterization. 1400 words, corny jokes.
“Oh, hey, you’re new,” Ben Greene said, glancing over at his co-pilot as the man swung into the seat and buckled himself in efficiently. He was a white man, dark-haired, strong-jawed, with longish hair, in the standard uniform. “I didn’t notice anybody new on the roster.”
“Last-minute availability swap,” the man said, and fished out— what? His official SHIELD badge, like Ben was gonna ask to see it or something. He glanced over. “You really ought to check that, you know.”
“You couldn’t’ve got in here if you weren’t authorized,” Ben said, laughing, but he obediently looked at it. “James Buck.” Recent enrollment date, but long enough ago to have been through relevant training. And from the look of the guy, he was nobody’s green rookie.
“And I know you’re Greene,” Buck said. “I had a chance to look over the roster and all.”
“Watch who you’re callin’ green, rookie,” Ben said.
Buck gave him an impressively-deadpan stare. “Great,” he said. “A wise guy. I’ll buckle in.”
“I’m not quite up to comin’ up with a pun on Buck and buckle yet,” Ben said, “but rest assured, I’m workin’ on it.”
“That’s fuckin’ great,” Buck said. “Puns. Well, it takes some of the suspense outta wondering what’s gonna go wrong on this mission.”
“You sound pretty experienced,” Greene said.
“I was in the Army for like eighty years,” Buck said, “this ain’t my first rodeo.”
“Oh, the Army, eh?” Greene said. “What was your MOS?”
Buck gave him a sidelong look. “SF,” he said. “Sniper.”
“Really,” Greene said. “And you got a pilot cert now?”
“Well,” Buck said, “you know I got the eyes for it.”
“And the hands,” Greene said. “You make any real impressive kill shots?”
Buck shrugged. “Mostly I did urban stuff,” he said, “so, my distances aren’t anything to write your mom about, but I mean, I was pretty good at it,” he said.
“Like my whole family was military,” Greene said, “and I hadda be the black sheep.” Buck nodded, and Greene reached over and thwacked the back of his hand against Buck’s knee. “Get it! Black sheep!”
Buck gave him a completely flat stare.
“I’ll make you crack up before this mission’s over,” Greene vowed. “I get everybody.”
“I’ll crack up, all right,” Buck said, resigned. He pulled his flight helmet on and grabbed the clipboard to start working his way down it with perhaps a little more intent focus than was customary.
“How many hours you got in one of these?” Greene asked.
“Enough,” Buck said. He glanced over. “If it tells you anything, I’ve done more landings than takeoffs.”
“So you’ve seen action in ‘em,” Greene concluded.
“There ain’t really a kind of action I ain’t seen, in these or out of ‘em,” Buck said.
“Well,” Greene said, “if you were in the Army for eighty years.”
“Give or take,” Buck conceded.
“You done a few with SHIELD?” Greene asked.
Buck shrugged. “Done backup for the Widow,” he said. “I figure that’s a baptism by fire.”
“I hear she’s challenging,” Greene said.
“I won’t hear a word against her,” Buck said.
“You know, I heard she was bangin’ the Hulk,” Greene said, “and if that don’t tell you somethin’ about a woman—“
“I said,” Buck said, “I won’t hear a word against her, and I did mean that.”
“Oh,” Greene said, “I wasn’t figurin’ that was a word against her.”
“The Black Widow is not cheap meat,” Buck said. “Have some respect. It was an honor to hand her ammunition. One time she even touched my hand. I’ve never washed it since.”
Greene glanced over but Buck was still going stone-faced through his checklist. The guy was pretty clearly fucking with him, though. Yesss. This might be okay after all. “Which hand, just for reference?”
“Left,” Buck said, glancing over. He had gloves on, of course.
“I know not to touch that one then,” Greene said.
“Yeah, I had to switch to using that one for, you know,” Buck said. “I wouldn’t touch it either, if I weren’t me.” He went unconcernedly back to his checklist. “I think all my stuff is go over here, you got any special shit you want me to confirm?”
“Nah, I run a pretty normal ship,” Greene said. And flipped on the sound system. Buck stared in dismay at the display. “What, not a fan of the Eagles?”
“Classic rock?” Buck asked.
“A brother can like classic rock,” Greene said.
Buck let his breath out slowly. “It’s fine,” he said, “this is fine.”
Greene snorted. “Why, what are you a fan of?”
“Literally,” Buck said, “anything else, but this is okay.”
“I figured there wasn’t anybody in the world who didn’t at least ignore the Eagles,” Greene said.
“And like everybody ever old enough to pick the music on any mission I was ever on always fucking picked this kind of shit,” Buck said, “or occasionally, fucking, Metallica, so I got some hardcore associations with gory fucking death.”
“Shit,” Greene said, “I don’t wanna give you flashbacks.”
Buck snorted. “I didn’t say flashbacks,” he said. “I said associations. I’m subclinical on all that shit, bro, so don’t you worry your pretty little head. You can check out anytime you like but you can never leave.”
“Ready for boarding?” a chipper voice said over the headsets, Steve Rogers crackling bright as sunshine. He was like that sometimes, and Greene just loved that.
“We sure are, Cap,” Greene said, and punched the button to lower the rear hatch.
Buck shot him a look. “You didn’t ask for his auth code,” he said.
“Cap’s auth code,” Greene said. “In the middle of a secure facility. What, you some kinda stickler?”
“You don’t need a stick shoved up your ass to just adhere to fucking protocol,” Buck groused. “Christ.” He fitted his goggles on, like a tight-ass, and turned to glance back at the people filing on.
“You think that fuckin’ Dorito on legs there could be anybody but Cap,” Greene said. “Man, I worked with some real rule bound Army tightasses before but you’re in line to take the cake. I figured SF would make you a little more flexible.”
“It just makes you more paranoid,” Buck said. “I tell you what there’s nothing worse than takin’ a shortcut and losin’ guys to it, okay? I’m a tightass because I’ve seen every one of those fuckin’ rules get ignored and guys die from it. So yeah I want an auth code and I want to see a fuckin’ badge because you know what, I don’t know who’s on the gate today and a secure facility is only as secure as the dumbest fuckin’ idiot who works there.”
“Hey, Greene,” Cap said, which never failed to be thrilling. “Who’s the new guy?”
“James Buck,” Greene said. “Army alum. He’s a tightass, Cap.”
“My favorite kind,” Cap said. He couldn’t possibly have meant that as it sounded. He leaned in the doorway, and held out a hand. “Nice ta meetcha, Buck.”
“Same,” Buck said, shaking his hand efficiently. “You like it when people follow rules, huh Cap?”
“I do,” Cap said, “I do. It soothes my soul.”
“I wanted an auth code from you to open that rear hatch,” Buck said. “And Greene here says that’s ridiculous, but I figure, why we got ‘em if nobody’s gonna use ‘em?”
“Fair point,” Cap said. “He’s got a point, Greene. Nothin’ like a little healthy paranoia in your mission backup.”
“Not much healthy about my paranoia,” Buck said, “but it’s got me through and Psych cleared me, so, at least it’s not debilitating.”
The Black Widow curled an arm around Cap, and smacked his ass, which made him jump. “Hey now,” Cap said.
“Hey fellas,” the Widow said. “Oh! James! I remember you.”
“Hello, ma’am,’ Buck said, sitting up straighter.
“You didn’t cut your hair, did you?” she asked, nearly purring. She was a damn fine-lookin’ woman, but Greene wasn’t fool enough even to look.
“No, ma’am,” Buck said, gazing at her raptly.
“Good,” she said. “Well, I feel better knowing we’ve got a good shot on this mission.”
“Oh, oh, that hurts,” Greene said.
“Aw don’t take it personally, Greene,” she said. “It’s just that James is very good.” She most often was cool and professional, and it was sort of better when she was; the current sweetness was maybe a little too rich for Greene’s tastes.
“I guess I’ll have to see it to believe it,” Greene said.
“Let’s hope you don’t, actually,” Cap said. “This is supposed to be a quiet one, but I’ve learned not to trust milk runs.”
Buck, unexpectedly, crossed himself. “Don’t even jinx us,” he said.
