Logs:Passing

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Passing
Dramatis Personae

Lucien, Steve

2020-12-01


"{I imagine you'd rather be attending to your family.}" (followed by bargaining with matt.)

Location

<NYC> NYPD 121st Precinct - Staten Island


The 121st Precinct station house is one of the newest in the borough, its unique top-heavy outline eyecatching where it perches at the top of its hill. There are no police officers in sight now, though, nor any cruisers out front, though some remain in the actual parking lot in back. There are instead quite a number of commercial vans (Strategic Pest Control and Mold Remediation, they read, beside an incredibly generic geometric logo) parked in the circular driveway, and workers in coveralls coming and going at regular intervals.

Steve has been pulling fewer all-nighters since Sam joined the team, but he's still probably spending more time at the rift site than is altogether healthy. He looks harried and tired as he peels himself away from a knot of S.H.I.E.L.D. security personnel, dressed today in his tactical uniform and looking eminently Captain America-like with his iconic shield slung across his back. He's heading back toward the rift proper and all of the myriad equipment brought in to monitor it, rubbing at his temples as he goes, the furrow of his brows bespeaking pain.

There's a very familiar figure making his way through the station, currently dressed in an impeccably tailored gray herringbone blazer over a fine green rollneck sweater, thin wale cream corduroy trousers, and black hazel loafers. His casual stroll hitches to a brief halt when he catches sight of Steve, just the faintest widening to Lucien's green eyes. It's only a half-beat before he recovers, head dipping. "{Goodness,}" his voice is quiet, "{you look halfway to your grave, when did you last sleep?}" It seems an idle enough pleasantry; he's continuing the way he came, path aimed past Steve and toward the front of the building.

Something in Steve's posture eases visibly when he spots Lucien. "Hey," says, his smile weary but warm. "{I slept last night, but -- not enough, I think.}" His French is accented with a startling mélange of Brooklyn, Provence, and Montréal. "Oh!" He turns as they pass each other. Takes a step back level to him. "{Are you in a hurry? Some of the comms fel -- people wanted to talk to you about some rift-related social media trends they've been monitoring. Didn't sound like it'd take long, but I know you're keeping a lot of balls in the air, on top of...}" His lips compress, and he reaches out to clap a hand to Lucien's shoulder. "{I'm sorry to have pulled you into this at a such a time.}"

Lucien pauses again as Steve turns; he turns, himself, pivoting on one heel to look at the other man with eyebrow quirked. "Ah --" is as far as he gets in answer before Steve is continuing on to business. His shoulder tenses briefly at the clap of hand before the corner of his mouth quirks just a hair. There's a quiet amusement in his soft exhale. "{If you know of a good time for --}" One hand turns elegantly upward, tipping out toward the station around them. "{I'd be deeply interested to hear of it.}"

Steve's own chuckle is dry but not altogether devoid of humor. "{I guess there really isn't a good time. It's just -- I imagine you'd rather be attending to your family.}" He bows his head slightly. "{I hope Matt is holding up alright. At Thanksgiving he seemed...}" His head shakes quickly. "{May I come by later this week? I'll understand if you'd rather not entertain, but -- it doesn't need to be a whole production.}"

"{Thankfully,}" Lucien replies mildly, "{I excel at multitasking.}" His head tilts just slightly, eyes fixing on Steve a moment. "{He usually manages.}" He tips his head down again, takes a small step back. "{It would be nice, wouldn't it? To just --}" Here there's a slight pause. His eyes flick up to Steve, and then away. "{You know you're always welcome,}" he finishes instead. "{Apologies, but I do have someone to meet. The comms team has my email, no?}"

"{I should know better, by now, than to doubt you.}" Steve sounds just a touch abashed. "{Either of you.}" His smile softens. "{But yes, it would be nice, I think.}" He runs a hand through his hair. "{Oh, surely they have it! They only ask because half of them are infatuated with you, but I'm sure they'll learn to live with disappointment. So sorry to keep you. See you later, my friend -- I'll text you.}"

Lucien inclines his head, two fingers touching to his forehead in a lazy-casual kind of salute. "{I look forward to it.}" His eyes linger a moment longer on Steve before he turns to leave, only a touch more speed in his pace as he heads for the exit.