[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.]
[John smiles faintly, pleased with the kill, even if it's going to be a slog to get the elk back home... or to the slaughterhouse is where it should probably go. He's not going to be able to get it sorted out in the kitchen. Bucky's offer and the compliment draw the doctor back to the present moment.]
Thanks. Good to know I haven't lost my touch at night. Are you sure about carrying it, though? It's a hike. We can bury it in the snow, too, and I can come back for it in the morning with a sled.
There's other animals out here that might dig it up, especially now that Zephyr's made them more-- wild.
[He takes a step out onto the lake itself, testing the thickness of the ice carefully to see if it can take his weight. It'll just be faster than going around the outside.]
Seems a shame to waste such a good kill. You can feed a lot of people with that, or salt it and keep it through the winter.
[Luckily, the lake ice is very thick, and with the snow over most of it, they won't be in danger of slipping. John puts the safety back on his rifle and shoulders it along with his pack so that he can follow after Bucky.]
I can probably use it for the Christmas party I'm gonna be putting together. Nice big pot of elk stew.
[That sounds like a plan. He'll have to work quickly on getting the thing skinned and butchered tomorrow.]
Thanks again for the rifle, mate. It's gonna be great for hunting. Wish I'd had it on some of my cases back home. [He snorts.] Easier than shooting someone with a handgun in the middle of the night, anyway.
Yeah, I got that. A lot of people don't seem to be. Alphonse turned up, did you see? The kid in the metal suit from back in Norfinbury. Met up with him in the Void and he didn't seem to like my shotgun much.
[And Sherlock doesn't like guns. John sighs.]
Think I'll probably have to keep this at your place with the other one. Sherlock doesn't like guns in the house. We worked out something for my handgun, but I don't want to push it.
[He noticed the new house and scouted it long enough to see who it was, but he never interacted with Al in Norfinbury and he doesn't have much interest in changing that here either.]
It's for hunting, and it's a gift, he can get over it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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.]
no subject
no subject
Whatever, any picture is good. Don't overthink it, long as it shows your face, it's fine.
no subject
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?
no subject
[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.]
no subject
The only thing that matters now is the sound and sight of what he's hunting.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
Thanks. Good to know I haven't lost my touch at night. Are you sure about carrying it, though? It's a hike. We can bury it in the snow, too, and I can come back for it in the morning with a sled.
[And hope nothing's got to it by then.]
no subject
[He takes a step out onto the lake itself, testing the thickness of the ice carefully to see if it can take his weight. It'll just be faster than going around the outside.]
Seems a shame to waste such a good kill. You can feed a lot of people with that, or salt it and keep it through the winter.
no subject
I can probably use it for the Christmas party I'm gonna be putting together. Nice big pot of elk stew.
[That sounds like a plan. He'll have to work quickly on getting the thing skinned and butchered tomorrow.]
Thanks again for the rifle, mate. It's gonna be great for hunting. Wish I'd had it on some of my cases back home. [He snorts.] Easier than shooting someone with a handgun in the middle of the night, anyway.
no subject
[It's a pleasure to give a gift to a friend, a small sort of celebration of how far he's come from what he was before.]
Just maybe don't use it in front of Renart, she's not a fan.
no subject
[And Sherlock doesn't like guns. John sighs.]
Think I'll probably have to keep this at your place with the other one. Sherlock doesn't like guns in the house. We worked out something for my handgun, but I don't want to push it.
no subject
It's for hunting, and it's a gift, he can get over it.
[Have some backbone, John.]
It's your place too, not just his.
no subject
He has panic attacks, Bucky. That's not something you just get over, really.