[Oh, is that a challenge? That's definitely a challenge. John looks down at his new gun and worries his lip for a moment. Going out after dark always makes him uneasy, but he's got better about it over the many months he's been stuck here. The doors won't lock, a blizzard won't suddenly drop on them. It's probably fine.]
Let me just get dressed. I'll be right back.
[He sets the gun down carefully and hurries to his room to get changed into some warm clothes. Really, this is stupid and they should just wait for morning, but it's a chance to test out the night scope on this thing, and he hasn't gone hunting at all. A part of him still can't help grabbing his pack as he heads out. It's pre-packed. It's just a precaution. There's nothing wrong with taking it.]
Should we head to the lake? Should be open enough, and I want to make sure we're well away from Aletheia's place.
[He notices the hesitation, but he's not going to embarrass John by retracting his offer now. He's spent most of his nights out in the open, even now the snow is thick on the ground, so he's got over his fear of lockdown a long time since.
It's probably time that John did the same.]
Sure, do you hunt often around the lake?
[He doesn't go there that often himself, he's not sure what game there is to hunt at the water's edge.]
Yeah, it's one of my usual spots. Elk come down around there along with the boar.
[He shoulders his pack and then the rifle before motioning for Bucky to follow. The frigid night air takes the breath out of his lungs for a moment as John locks the door behind them and pulls out a torch to start heading toward the forest.]
Any particular reason you came by in the middle of the night, by the by? Trouble sleeping?
[He shrugs, wondering if there's any answer that he could give which won't earn him a disapproving doctor stare. Probably not, and he's not the best at lying anyway.]
It's not safe to sleep more than a couple of hours at a time in this weather, I needed to get moving for a while.
Better than the previous model, it's a good one for a small tripod and really long range.
[He thinks that John will be more than capable of handling it, he's sort of looking forward to getting a proper read on the other man's skills. Not just out of friendship, but for that niggling whisper of paranoia that's always there that wants to know just how dangerous the people around him are.]
[John's brow furrows at the odd request. He can't help sounding a little awkward. It's flattering to have that be asked for as a gift, but at the same time, it makes him feel intensely self-conscious. Does he have any good photos off-hand? Is Bucky asking him to be a model for something?]
Um... okay. Like, framed, or something? Or did you want to take the picture?
[It's either going to become more of less awkward when he explains, but he's made his choice and he's not backing down.]
Not framed, just-- a photo. You have your book of cases, right? I have a book too, started making it back home and I had it in Norfinbury, not that I added much there, and I've got it here. It's got pictures and memories in it, pieces as I got them back. But I also have stuff in there in case I forget again, to remind me, and I don't have a picture of you.
[It's still very awkward, but it's also incredibly heartwarming, too. John ducks his head, glancing away. He wants to wrap the other man in a hug for that, but he's got a pack and a giant gun in his hands. Not ideal. His voice is softer, touched.]
Oh... right. Right.
[John licks his lips and clears his throat, trying to regain his metaphorical footing in the conversation.]
Yeah, I can get you a photo for that. You sure you don't want it with you in it, too?
[Do you want a friend selfie for your scrapbook, Bucky?]
[At least John doesn't seem to think that he's creepy for wanting something like that. He's just scared of forgetting again, he wants reminders of everything that matters.]
I'm not very photogenic.
[He's trying to lighten the mood from awkward again.]
You are unfairly handsome. You've got that tall, dark, and handsome thing, which is, I assure you, extremely photogenic.
[Just saying. The doctor huffs lightly, trying to shake himself out of it.]
I have got photos. That one with one of the Sisters from my colors write-up. Or other things from back home. If you want something from here, I'll have to get back to you. Maybe I could do one with the gun?
[He glances down at the rifle speculatively as they move through the trees, along the path.]
[That's... awkward. But not quite as awkward as having to explain to John that he doesn't want a picture of them together, in case he ever looks at it and sees the Soldier standing at his handler's shoulder. It's why he doesn't want a picture of John with the gun either.
He's not about to explain all of that, so he just shrugs easily.]
Any of the ones from home are probably fine, I doubt you look much different from back then?
Well, no... [Not really. John's kept the same 'look' for a while now.] All right. I can have you take a look at the ones on my laptop when we get back or tomorrow, if you'd like. Have a couple of nice ones from when I was visiting one of my mates in New Zealand.
[He suddenly gets an image in his head of a photo of John in dumb swimwear on holiday stuck in his book of generally serious things, and it makes him smile very abruptly.]
Whatever, any picture is good. Don't overthink it, long as it shows your face, it's fine.
[John huffs. Apparently he'll just have to get someone else to help him pick out nice photos. Maybe Stephen. Would that be strange? Meulin. Meulin might be a better option. Or Alice? They're safer bets than another bloke.]
All right. I'll get you something by Christmas.
[They've arrived at the edge of the forest where it opens up onto the lake John motions for Bucky and goes to set up a watch point downwind of anything that might be wandering along. He comes to a stop and holds the rifle up briefly just to get a look at the night-vision capabilities on the scope.]
Almost makes it too easy, really. What did people do before night-vision?
Learn to listen real carefully? I think a lot of wars stopped at nightfall in the past, not much sense fighting when you might kill your own men by mistake.
[He has never gone without night vision technology, it was invented before he went to war and the Commandos always got the best equipment available.]
Mm... [They're always inventing better and more efficient ways of killing each other. John hunkers down into a comfortable position he can hold for several hours if he needs to. With any luck, they won't need to wait that long for prey to appear. The rest of the world begins to fade out as John focuses in on the task, methodically sweeping his view over the far shore. He's alert to any sounds immediately around him, but Bucky is categorized as 'safe' and the rest of the noise--branches creaking, the wind, the sounds of nature--is tuned to something lower in his head.
The only thing that matters now is the sound and sight of what he's hunting.]
Bucky hasn't seen what can John do, not what he can really do with the skills that he's specialised in, and he's looking forward to seeing it. It's fairly easy for him to settle into a similarly still stance, something every sniper knows how to maintain, though his focus shifts periodically between John and the far shore of the lake.
[It's a good twenty minutes passed in silence between the two of them. The cold settles in around them, but John dismisses it. The nights in the desert were frigid, not to mention Norfinbury's days and nights were far worse. He has a purpose here that keeps him from locking up or shivering.
A dark blue elk steps out of the trees on the far shore, not that John can particularly tell what color it is in the scope. It's a young buck, and it's alert, pausing to look around and flick its ears before taking a few more tentative steps out from the treeline.
John breathes deep and lines up the shot, anticipating the crack of the gun, the way it will make the elk startle. A part of him wants to show off. A part of him knows that headshots are more challenging, and he might just embarrass himself, as well. It's been a long time since he's bothered with one-shot kills on something that big. Most of his prey is smaller. Just easier to manage.
But he's feeling lucky tonight. John waits for the elk to paw at the snow and lower its head to go after... something. As soon as it's preoccupied, he pulls the trigger. There's not even a sound from the animal, it just drops. The doctor lowers the rifle. His voice is very calm when he speaks.]
I didn't actually think about dragging that thing back home.
Although he'd known John was good from the brief snippets of information he's gleaned, he didn't imagine that he'd be this good. But that's the reflexes, aim, and calm of a seasoned and expert sniper.
He gives John an approving sort of look when he finally lowers the rifle, producing a hunting knife.]
I can probably carry it back.
[The metal arm is strong, he's swung motorcycles around over his head before, he can probably lift an elk with some effort.]
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[It's a light challenge, mostly because he can see how excited John is to try it out and that's something he wants to see as well.]
Pretty big handicap for a sniper.
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Let me just get dressed. I'll be right back.
[He sets the gun down carefully and hurries to his room to get changed into some warm clothes. Really, this is stupid and they should just wait for morning, but it's a chance to test out the night scope on this thing, and he hasn't gone hunting at all. A part of him still can't help grabbing his pack as he heads out. It's pre-packed. It's just a precaution. There's nothing wrong with taking it.]
Should we head to the lake? Should be open enough, and I want to make sure we're well away from Aletheia's place.
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It's probably time that John did the same.]
Sure, do you hunt often around the lake?
[He doesn't go there that often himself, he's not sure what game there is to hunt at the water's edge.]
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[He shoulders his pack and then the rifle before motioning for Bucky to follow. The frigid night air takes the breath out of his lungs for a moment as John locks the door behind them and pulls out a torch to start heading toward the forest.]
Any particular reason you came by in the middle of the night, by the by? Trouble sleeping?
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It's not safe to sleep more than a couple of hours at a time in this weather, I needed to get moving for a while.
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Bucky, you really should be sleeping inside, or at least in the jungle. That's a bit warmer.
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I'll bear that in mind.
[Bear it in mind and completely ignore it. He has his reasons for where he chooses to sleep, most of which he'd rather not go into or argue about.]
You use one of these before? Or was it a different model when you were in the army?
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Different model. Same principle, I reckon, unless you've got any particular tips on it. How's the recoil?
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[He thinks that John will be more than capable of handling it, he's sort of looking forward to getting a proper read on the other man's skills. Not just out of friendship, but for that niggling whisper of paranoia that's always there that wants to know just how dangerous the people around him are.]
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[There they can go for miles. John's looking forward to this, massively.]
So, you got me the gun. What d'you want for Christmas, Buck?
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A photo.
[He's aware this might be a weird request, but it is what it is.]
Of you.
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Um... okay. Like, framed, or something? Or did you want to take the picture?
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Not framed, just-- a photo. You have your book of cases, right? I have a book too, started making it back home and I had it in Norfinbury, not that I added much there, and I've got it here. It's got pictures and memories in it, pieces as I got them back. But I also have stuff in there in case I forget again, to remind me, and I don't have a picture of you.
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Oh... right. Right.
[John licks his lips and clears his throat, trying to regain his metaphorical footing in the conversation.]
Yeah, I can get you a photo for that. You sure you don't want it with you in it, too?
[Do you want a friend selfie for your scrapbook, Bucky?]
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I'm not very photogenic.
[He's trying to lighten the mood from awkward again.]
Just you is fine. You don't have any already?
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You are unfairly handsome. You've got that tall, dark, and handsome thing, which is, I assure you, extremely photogenic.
[Just saying. The doctor huffs lightly, trying to shake himself out of it.]
I have got photos. That one with one of the Sisters from my colors write-up. Or other things from back home. If you want something from here, I'll have to get back to you. Maybe I could do one with the gun?
[He glances down at the rifle speculatively as they move through the trees, along the path.]
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He's not about to explain all of that, so he just shrugs easily.]
Any of the ones from home are probably fine, I doubt you look much different from back then?
[Bit thinner and scruffier, perhaps.]
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Whatever, any picture is good. Don't overthink it, long as it shows your face, it's fine.
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All right. I'll get you something by Christmas.
[They've arrived at the edge of the forest where it opens up onto the lake John motions for Bucky and goes to set up a watch point downwind of anything that might be wandering along. He comes to a stop and holds the rifle up briefly just to get a look at the night-vision capabilities on the scope.]
Almost makes it too easy, really. What did people do before night-vision?
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[He has never gone without night vision technology, it was invented before he went to war and the Commandos always got the best equipment available.]
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The only thing that matters now is the sound and sight of what he's hunting.]
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Bucky hasn't seen what can John do, not what he can really do with the skills that he's specialised in, and he's looking forward to seeing it. It's fairly easy for him to settle into a similarly still stance, something every sniper knows how to maintain, though his focus shifts periodically between John and the far shore of the lake.
He can sit like that as long as he needs.]
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A dark blue elk steps out of the trees on the far shore, not that John can particularly tell what color it is in the scope. It's a young buck, and it's alert, pausing to look around and flick its ears before taking a few more tentative steps out from the treeline.
John breathes deep and lines up the shot, anticipating the crack of the gun, the way it will make the elk startle. A part of him wants to show off. A part of him knows that headshots are more challenging, and he might just embarrass himself, as well. It's been a long time since he's bothered with one-shot kills on something that big. Most of his prey is smaller. Just easier to manage.
But he's feeling lucky tonight. John waits for the elk to paw at the snow and lower its head to go after... something. As soon as it's preoccupied, he pulls the trigger. There's not even a sound from the animal, it just drops. The doctor lowers the rifle. His voice is very calm when he speaks.]
I didn't actually think about dragging that thing back home.
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Although he'd known John was good from the brief snippets of information he's gleaned, he didn't imagine that he'd be this good. But that's the reflexes, aim, and calm of a seasoned and expert sniper.
He gives John an approving sort of look when he finally lowers the rifle, producing a hunting knife.]
I can probably carry it back.
[The metal arm is strong, he's swung motorcycles around over his head before, he can probably lift an elk with some effort.]
That was a real good shot.
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