Logs:Challenging Proposition

Challenging Proposition
Dramatis Personae Steve, Fury
In Absentia	2020-10-23 "I'm not asking for the power to challenge you. I'm telling you I will."
Location <NYC> SHIELD HQ - Times Square
This corner office is big, bright and airy, which is not cheap to come by in midtown Manhattan. On one side, a huge glass desk sits in front of the floor-to-ceiling window looking out over Times Square. The far corner has a leather couch, a coffee table, a liquor cabinet and a sideboard, but the rest of the floor space is left open between bookshelves. Steve marching in here like he owns the place has become something of a running joke among the agents at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, though today he actually has an appointment for a change. Though it's much like what he usually wears, his casual dress today feels like a statement, somehow: a brown leather jacket over a sky blue t-shirt with a fierce winged wolf crushing a thick length of chain in its snarling jaws, one of its paws pinning down the broken chain, bracketed by the words '107th, Howling Commandos' and 'Vérité sans Peur', perfectly tailored blue jeans, and polished combat boots, his great round shield slung across his back. No matter how often he reassures himself there's not likely any immediate danger, his thoughts are tense and darting, his senses keyed up with hypervigilance as he enters the director's office and closes the door behind him. "Good day, Colonel Fury," his greeting comes only a touch stiff. << For heaven's sake, Rogers, just act naturally! (But what will he care if I don't?) >> His posture relaxes a little as he coasts to a stop across the desk from Fury. "I have a proposition for you." Nick Fury is seated in the high-backed chair behind his desk, reading from a tablet, his near-perpetual frown deeper than usual. << ...some motherfucking science fiction bullshit -- >> The thought cuts off when his eyes lift at Steve's entrance. "Captain Rogers," his greeting sounds perfectly natural. "I am honored by your visit and ready to hear your proposition. But before we get to that I'd like to offer my condolences -- I understand you and Mister Allred were close." << Goddamn shame, and this mess keeps getting bigger. >> He rises and goes to his sideboard. "Cognac?" Steve's gaze drops at the offer of condolences. << Of course, they've been watching us. >> A chill runs through him, then a wave of misery, at a series of rapid-fire recollections -- all the indiscreet places he and Dawson fell into each other in breathless passion. Color rises to his cheeks, but when he says "Thank you" it comes out steadily enough. "Yes, please. His murder was a travesty that diminishes us all, and that must be avenged." Fury pours two snifters of brandy and hands one to Steve. "Look. You may not believe this of me, but I agree." << Maybe not for the reasons you'd like. You got your way, I got mine. >> He sits down on the edge of his desk, not exactly facing Steve but keeping him on the side of his good eye, at least. "You can sit if you like, but I'm not fussed either way." One of his shoulders shrugs and he takes a sip of his cognac. << Gotta appeal to his sense of forthrightness. >> "We're old soldiers. Let's talk candidly. Why're you here, Cap?" Steve guffaws. "I don't believe you. If you agree, you should put your money where your mouth is." << ...why, I'd like to punch him in his smug mouth... >> He takes a long swallow of his drink, appreciation humming reluctantly through him. "I'm not old," he says wearily. "I'm twenty-six -- give or take. And I'm here to accept your job offer, if it's still open." He takes a deep breath. "But, I've got conditions." Fury does not appear much troubled (and in fact is not) by Steve's disbelief. "I'm not gonna torment that metaphor, and I doubt it's worth our time for me to try convincing you I am doing my best." << Be a lot more convincing if your goddamned friends haven't been filling your head with horror stories. >> He gazes down into his glass abstractly, but for only a moment. "Alright, then, let's play hardball." << I asked for it... >> "I'm not gonna act coy, we want you working with us and I'm willing to be flexible, but I've got limits." Steve's eyes narrow, but he doesn't argue. He subsumes the urge to punch into a long exhale, his right hand clenching painfully and then relaxing. "I suspect you already know this, but I've never been keen on following orders." << He must know, and he must mean to lie to me about anything I'd object to. >> "I can believe this is important work, but I'll not go against my conscience. Not for the law, not for public opinion, and not for you." << If he knows anything about me, he wouldn't believe anything less than this. >> He sips his cognac. "I'm not asking for the power to challenge you. I'm telling you I will." "I knew," Fury agrees. << He is gonna be a pain in my ass. >> Almost immediately, he echoes this thought aloud, "You are gonna be a pain in my ass, Rogers." He gives a tight smile. "That's why I want you with us. My people are loyal to me, and many think too highly of me." He doesn't actually think this is a problem, but his next words are nevertheless broadly honest. "I don't trust them to challenge me, and a man with as much power as I've got? Needs to be challenged. So yeah." He sweeps a hand expansively. "I'll give you a lot of rein. If you think I've made the wrong call, you come to me." << Tie it together a bit. Something hopeful. >> "Maybe between us we can save the world without turning it into a place that ain't worth saving." Steve just stares at Fury for a long moment. << Gosh, he's good. >> He's conflicted now, his deep-seated distrust of the man warring with a distant hope that he might -- even if only in part -- be sincere. "Alright." He drains his glass. "I'll see you on Monday, then. You know my contact information if you need to send me any prep materials. Thank you for your time." << He said what I wanted to hear. His actions will speak louder. >> He sets the empty snifter with a gentle click down on Fury's desk. Starts to turn to go, but pauses. "Oh, and one more thing. The man you sent to help Dawson? I want him on my team."