this isn't what you think

BOBBI MORSE Smartass. SHIELD agent. Patron saint of dumpster boys. || 616 & MCUestablished April/2015 | retired May/2019

[agent0019]

doesntlikebullies​:

Steve hummed as he thought about that, and, in some sense, it held credence. She was there throughout the years, and even with time passing as it had, he felt as though they were going to continuously end up in this dance. Not such a bad thing, if you asked him. “Daytime coffee sounds nice, though I’ll take mine as is; Irish won’t do me much good.” 

Glancing down at her arm, he hesitated for a moment, forgetting what it was like to be touched in the most simplest form. So much of what he endured had been in combat–no room for sympathy nor gentleness–that it felt foreign to him. He reached up and took her hand, maneuvering so she was on the inside of the sidewalk and he was on the street-side. “Lead the way.”

“Oh, I see.”  Bobbi smiled as she settled in next to Steve, pulling his arm close against her side.  “Your master plan is revealed.  You walk me back to my place to make sure I return safely, I invite you in, we talk all night, we fall asleep on the couch because you’re a gentleman, and then you take me back out for the daytime coffee?  To make up for me waking up with a crick in my neck?”  She nodded.  “I understand.”

She knew absolutely none of this was planned, but that’s what made teasing him such an amusing pastime.

“After you sort that out, tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself since we last saw each other.”

[natgeofound]

Neon signs blur the night scene as marines walk on the street in San Diego, California, July 1969.Photograph by James L. Amos, National Geographic

[agent0019]

[out of cider]

who wants to be talked at about san diego because

she just loves it so much

[agent0019]

doesntlikebullies​:

Steve followed along to the tomato-y downfall of Bobbi’s acting career without cracking any sort of smile, doing his best to remain composed so as not to upset her while she opened up about such a horrible ordeal. “Sounds like a true Shakespearean tragedy if you ask me.” He replied, finally smirking just a smidge.

“I don’t know, red might be a nice color on you. Maybe you should seek professional help to get you past the tomato episode of your past. Otherwise it might be your tragic flaw.” He mused as their food arrived soon after, the night being rather slow.

“Just make sure you take your time with that; don’t get yourself sick.”

Good lord, he was stoic.  What did a girl have to do to get a laugh?  Clint would’ve - but she had to stop that train of thought short, for at least the third time.  It had been running away from her all night.

“Sir.”  Bobbi looked down to her fries, selecting one, shaking her head.  “Mr. Rogers.  Stevie G.  You’re supposed to laugh when I make up nonsense.  It’s the entire reason for the nonsense in the first place.”

She reached for the ketchup and shook it once.  “I do look great in red, but if that story was real, it would end with me cracking the guy over the head with said halberd and getting suspended into eternity.”

[agent0019]

‘ i made coffee. ’

i had a feeling it would get a response.

She woke the moment she felt him leaving the bed.  She lay still, processing the light (dim, early morning) and the man (Rogers, Steve) in the room.  The former did not yet merit getting up - “no sunlight, no Bobbi” was the general rule.  The latter, she wasn’t sure.  She stayed where she was, and listened.  Heard him moving quietly, leaving the room, water running.  Cupboards?  Faint rattle of beans.  She smiled slightly and drifted back to sleep.  What a good boy, not leaving.

*

Bobbi rolled onto her side, squinted toward the voice in the doorway.  A smile spread across her face.  “Damn, what a hero,” she observed, her voice rasping with sleep.  She shifted to prop herself against the pillows and rubbed her eyes.

“You got up early?  I heard you, I didn’t notice the time.”

[agent0019]

‘ where are you off to? ’

i had a feeling it would get a response.

Kicking through the pile of clothing, Bobbi glanced over her shoulder and grinned.  What a doll, all rolled up in rumpled sheets.  Los Angeles Lucifer, now with bedhead!  Seduction suit sold separately.

“Just to get a drink, don’t worry.”  Her foot found underwear, a t-shirt, and she pulled them on, raked her hand through her hair.  “You want anything?”

[agent0019]

doesntlikebullies

"That would be a waste, ma'am."

true enough, i’m glad i didn’t.  laptop is preserved and i have acquired additional beer.

[agent0019]

@doesntlikebullies

sir

i almost spat guinness on my keyboard

[agent0019]

doesntlikebullies​:

“Alright, you got it.” Steve replied, flagging down the barkeep to place their orders. He got the largest sizes available–one, because he needed high amounts of calories, and two, because she obviously needed it. “Not much for tomatoes, huh? What’d they ever do to you?” He asked teasingly.

He met her stare and smiled, nodding almost cheekily in response.

Bobbi’s eyes narrowed and she glared at Steve for a long moment.  “They need commit no sin to be banished to a fruitarian’s purgatory.

“However.”  She straightened and picked up her water glass, took a lengthy slurp through the straw.  “I was once in a school play when I was, I dunno, fourteenish.  Outdoor thing.  One of those updated Shakespearian businesses.  I’m up there, doing my best as guard number three, about to skewer this punk rocker with my halberd, when bam.”  Bobbi clapped her hands abruptly.  “Tomato to the face.  Some jackass in the wings had a vicious grudge against our lead, wanted the part, wanted the girl, whatever, launched a salad at him, old school.  Completely missed and hit me.”

[agent0019]

doesntlikebullies​:

Steve smiled solemnly and glanced away, his head dipping as he tried to formulate some response to that. None came, but he returned his attention to Bobbi and let the memories come flooding back. “I’m just…getting by, I suppose. Strange that even after all these years, I’m still bumping into you. Small world, right?” 

He had only been in this foreign world for about a decade and so much had happened that it felt like the change would never stop rushing in. He was not prepared to grapple with that, so he merely kept the vigil and did his job, but what happened when there was little to no job left? Was he to hang up his shield and fade away like all old soldiers? He didn’t know.

“How long were you going to be in town for?”

Strange.  Strange that he would stay in one spot?  Strange that she would return to the same spot and find him still there?  Hiding her smile, Bobbi shook her head.  It felt like a parable she couldn’t remember.  

“Small world, but not strange.  I’m probably the most consistent thing in your life.”  It occurred to her it was true after she said it.  “I’m only here for a couple more days, but I’ll let you buy me a daytime coffee, if you like.  Whiskey optional.”

On an impulse, she reached out, rested her hand on his arm.  Almost pulled him closer, but not quite.

[thenobelexperiment]

Driving south on the 101 from Del Mar towards Torrey Pines State Reserve.

San Diego, Ca 1961

[horrorempathya]

morning after starters.

‘  i  made  coffee.  ’ ‘  come  back  to  bed.  ’ ‘  where  are  you  off  to? ’ ‘  that  was  amazing.  ’ ‘  you  were  amazing.  ’ ‘  don’t  go.  ’ ‘  i  have  to  go  to  work.  ’ ‘  call  me  later?  ’ ‘  you  were  my  first.  ’ ‘  what  do  you  want  for  breakfast?  ’ ‘  i  need  to  let  the  dog  out.  ’ ‘  i  hope  you  aren’t  busy…  ’ ‘  babe?  ’ ‘  i’m  just  going  to  the  bathroom.  ’ ‘  i’m  not  going  anywhere.  ’ ‘  so,  how  long  are  we  going  to  stay  in  bed  today?  ’ ‘  are  you  okay?  ’

[agent0019]

doesntlikebullies​:

Steve didn’t even know how to grace Bobbi with a response and instead simply listened, nodded, and patted her on the back. “That it does.” He agreed, relating to at least one fact in that entire history lesson.

He peeked into the basket and then pulled out his wallet, nodding. “Sure, what do you want? Let me guess: two burgers.” He knew that she was no regular dame and would go for the foodie throat if the opportunity presented itself. “I’ll cover whatever it is.”

Foraging for chip crumbs, Bobbi frowned.  A margarita and burger was just - wrong.  But protein was necessary and her glass was, technically, empty.  “Eh, fine.  Cheese, please, and bacon.  And you can have my tomato.”

She let the basket fall and propped her chin on her hand to look at Steve.  “You just nod and smile at most of what I say, don’t you?”

[agent0019]

havesomesympathy​:

“Well, I stick with Morningstar because that is in fact who I am, darling. I started the whole fad!” He complained, gesturing at himself. “I’m the Devil.”

Lucifer studied her in return and had more rustled feathers than a cockfight in that particular moment. He frowned momentarily and shook his head. “Where else would you expect the Devil to reside? Philly? Come now, Los Angeles is the perfect setting for me and you know it.”

“I never said it wasn’t, I said it was generic.  Sin is incredibly common.  I bet you’d do well in D.C., too.”  Bobbi cracked a grin.  She didn’t miss the place.

“All right, say I allow you’re the devil.  Sorry, devil, capital D, superscript TM.”  She squinted upward, drawing her words in the air with a vague gesture.  “Now what, what’s your play?  Carnal delight?”

[agent0019]

doesntlikebullies​:

Steve could not resist a small snort at that one, though it was certainly suppressed. “Some things never change.” He commented.

Pure chance, indeed. Pure chance that Steve Rogers and Bobbi Morse would cross paths once more; not even he would have taken that bet. He found that the familiar faces of times past comforted him, and to still have someone around? Well, it felt good.

“Maybe it did.” He nodded, looking down as he took a deep breath. “That was a nice change of pace.” He agreed, though he still didn’t enjoy being behind the lens of a camera. “Define happy, Hoot.”

Bobbi’s face fell as she studied Steve in the glow of streetlights and storefronts.  Still?  After all this time.  She shifted her weight, shook her head.

“Honey, if I have to define it for you, I don’t think you are.”  Her tone was dry, and she added a smile in case she was wrong.  We have always had different definitions of things.  Just about everything.  Maybe...  But her gut said that was just her optimism talking.

[agent0019]

havesomesympathy​:

“They do now; it’s all the rage.” Lucifer reassured, though he wasn’t one hundred percent certain the line had stuck. Yet. “Well, if you lack imagination, I suppose…” He shrugged that off and grinned wickedly at her question, raising his brow as if it was the first time he heard the line.

“Both, actually.” He answered nonchalantly, though there was a hint of something else there–something beneath the superficially flippant façade he wore. “It was rather painful, yes, and then I slaved away under my Dear Old Dad’s™ employment. Feel free to ask any other Biblically inclined pick-up lines; I’m all horns.” 

“Booooo.”  Bobbi reached for her pint.  “If you’re going to stick with this Lucifer Morningwood thing, you have to be better at it.  Being horny and resenting your father is wildly generic, we’re in L.A.”

Studying him as she drank, she allowed he was mildly entertaining, but honestly.  Keeping the accent?  He’d have to work to make it past pretentious.  At this rate, she’d be heading back to the people she came with, and they were - somewhere.

[agent0019]

doesntlikebullies​:

“On my first, actually.” Steve corrected and couldn’t help but crack a smile.

He leaned on one elbow, trying to appear suave and collected, but in reality, he had no idea what he was doing. He just sipped his Sam Adams and listened in on the–well, frankly quite insulting bluntness of Bobbi Morse. He shrugged it off gracefully though. “Yeah, right alongside Columbus and the like.” He nodded, humming thoughtfully. “You can’t remember it right now because you’ve had a few too many–I’m willing to bet.”

He glanced at his arms and then back at Bobbi. “And? The conclusion you’ve reached? I thought you had your amendment privately passed? Seems you’ve got competition in the form of one congressman.”

Bobbi waved the theoretical congressman away with a dismissive hand.  “You should be honored to go to school with Columbus.  I know, everyone hates him now, but people are terrible, anyway, and someone has to discover things.”  She swirled the ice in her margarita and drank, set the glass down with a thunk.  “It takes guts to sail into the unknown with a bunch of smelly sailors and horrible hardtack.  He should get credit for that.”  

Reaching for the basket between them, she tipped it onto its side and frowned at the lack of chips.  “Are you gonna get anything to eat?”