[It's really closer to eight by the time Barnes is in the bar in the lobby, in a corner with his back to the wall and good sight-lines and whatever a Rusty Nail is. He doesn't drink much, the Asset hadn't exactly been a barfly, but the mission briefing had downloaded a memory of the Bucky-person enjoying a Rusty Nail, and the bartender here hadn't seemed thrown when he'd asked for one. Neat.]
[ Spooner was lying by the pool when her got the message so it takes him a few minutes to get back to his room, shower quickly and change into a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. He walks into the lobby bar about fifteen minutes later, orders a beer then goes to sit down across from the guy he'd been talking to on the app. ]
Del Spooner [ He holds his hand out to shake, not missing the guy's metal army. Funny enough, underneath the stuff that looks and feels like skin on his left side, his arm, shoulder, hand and first three ribs looks much the same way.]
[So it's pretty much impossible for Barnes not to extrapolate way too much information about people when he sees them, but he tries not to let that interfere with the social stuff, like shaking hands, which he does.]
James Barnes. Call me Barnes. You kinda walk like a cop, you a cop?
[What. Inquiring about professions, that's a conversational opener, right?]
[Hey, no. Del does it too. Maybe it's part of being a cop? Or part
of being in security. Or, at least, a product of the life they lead. Once
he shakes Barnes' hand, he sits down. ]
Back home. I'm a homicide detective. You can call me Spooner. You've gotta
be law enforcement of some kind to pick that up though.
I know about law enforcement, yeah. Sorta from. The other side. Retired, though. You know there's a drink called a Rusty Nail? Sounds awful but it's pretty good.
[Can they talk about weird drinks now and gloss over the 'from the other side of law enforcement' part because that is an awkward way to make a new friend, probably.]
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Yeah, but what's actually normal? Right? Also, normal is overrated.
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Thumbs up to you too.
That depends on your version of normal. Spooner. What's your name?
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I'm Addy. Or Addison. Whatever floats your boat cause I answer to both.
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Still better than robots, least in my opinion. You want to actually meet up somewhere? Continue the conversation in person?
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But, uhm... how about in the lobby coffee shop? [ Not too far from Beth or too far of a walk. ] Twenty minutes?
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Yeah? Which one does your Gramma call you? I'm guessing Addison.
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What does your Gramma call you?
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Easy guess. It's a Gramma thing.
Sugar or Del when she's angry at me.
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Ooo I like Sugar. It sounds very Southern.
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She is. Grew up in Alabama, but she moved to Chicago before I was ever born.
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[Bars are easy. Good for surveillance. Probably also good for meeting people in.]
And it's hard to type on this thing.
[Because metal hands aren't made for texting.]
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I'll meet you at the bar in the lobby?
[ He could use a drink and a friend. ]
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[It's really closer to eight by the time Barnes is in the bar in the lobby, in a corner with his back to the wall and good sight-lines and whatever a Rusty Nail is. He doesn't drink much, the Asset hadn't exactly been a barfly, but the mission briefing had downloaded a memory of the Bucky-person enjoying a Rusty Nail, and the bartender here hadn't seemed thrown when he'd asked for one. Neat.]
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[ Spooner was lying by the pool when her got the message so it takes him a few minutes to get back to his room, shower quickly and change into a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. He walks into the lobby bar about fifteen minutes later, orders a beer then goes to sit down across from the guy he'd been talking to on the app. ]
Del Spooner [ He holds his hand out to shake, not missing the guy's metal army. Funny enough, underneath the stuff that looks and feels like skin on his left side, his arm, shoulder, hand and first three ribs looks much the same way.]
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James Barnes. Call me Barnes. You kinda walk like a cop, you a cop?
[What. Inquiring about professions, that's a conversational opener, right?]
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[Hey, no. Del does it too. Maybe it's part of being a cop? Or part of being in security. Or, at least, a product of the life they lead. Once he shakes Barnes' hand, he sits down. ]
Back home. I'm a homicide detective. You can call me Spooner. You've gotta be law enforcement of some kind to pick that up though.
[ It works in this place. ]
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[Can they talk about weird drinks now and gloss over the 'from the other side of law enforcement' part because that is an awkward way to make a new friend, probably.]
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Yeah? I usually stick with beer. Might give it a shot though. What do you usually drink?
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Usually don't. But I, um. Remember a time when I liked these.
[Close enough.]
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[ Del is willing to let it go because he's on vacation so he simply nods, but looks a bit wary. ]
Yeah? I remember a time I used to like this nasty cheap ass beer too. Can't stand the shit now.
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Now he grins, almost a smirk as he holds up his glass and wiggles it a little.]
Oughta try something new then.