We should do something. Birthdays are important and I want to celebrate the day you were born, even if it was a really long time ago.
[ Does she put a comical amount of emphasis on that last part? Yep, she absolutely does. They need to lighten the mood and joking about his age is a safe space for them. She's already contemplating all the ways she could possibly emphasize his being among the elderly for said birthday celebrations. ]
[ This is safer territory. And it's not like they're running away from it — she's still curled up against him, after all — but it's more like finding steady footing again, a less perilous foundation to stand on rather than the heavier subjects before. ]
Hmm. What do people do in the 2020s to mark their birthdays?
[ Daisy snorts out a very unladylike laugh and doesn't care one bit. ]
You're asking the wrong person. I've never done the big party thing, it's usually just dinner with cake if a mission doesn't come up.
[ She doesn't mention that she hadn't had any birthday parties growing up because she hadn't known her real birthday. That's back into the heavy stuff and a whole other kind of trauma.]
Dinner with cake sounds nice, honestly. I could invite Sam, if you wanted to meet him. I'm— not really one for the big party thing either.
[ A beat, a near-misstep before he tilts his left shoulder into a sheepish shrug. ]
I'm not a fan of crowds, but my invite list would be the saddest thing anyway. Even any acquaintances I know are scattered around the world instead of based here. Barton's in the midwest, Lang's on the west coast, Wanda's over in Europe, even the Asgardians are in Norway, I think Sharon's in DC... there's not much left of anyone I know.
[ Damn, the team really had scattered to the wind, hadn't they? Everyone was off living their own lives and here was Bucky, just trying to figure out how to have one again. ]
Well, it's the quality of friends that counts for things like this, not the quantity. So absolutely invite Sam. He can join me in giving you a whole lot of shit for being an old geezer.
[ Daisy grins suddenly, very pleased with the thought she's just had. ]
[ Oh, she will fight for her share of cake, he doesn't need to worry one bit about that. Food is a very good motivator for one Daisy Johnson. ]
Of course, we can make it ice cream cake. What flavor do you want? Or flavors, I'm pretty sure you can get just about any combo these days.
[ And if he wants something weird, she'll find a place to make it, even if she has to go to the other side of the city. He deserves a good birthday after everything he's been through. ]
[ Oh, the fun she is going to have planning this birthday celebration. He has so much time to make up for and she is now determined to give him some good memories to help counter all the bad.
Her expression shifts from delighted excitement to peaceful happiness. Once upon a time, that question was a devastating one, but not anymore. ]
[ 1988. Oh god, she's a baby. Well— no, she's actually around the same age as what his body ought to be, but the number still feels strange. She was born 71 years after him. Don't think about it for too long, Barnes.
So instead, he just casts a thoughtful look to the ceiling and goes for an astrology joke, from the vaguest thing he can recall of summer signs. Amused: ]
[ If she's not over here feeling weird about him being born in 1917, he can get over her being born in 1988. Their lives are weird, just deal with it, Barnes. ]
A Cancer, I think? Is that the crab? [ Trying to recall a chart she once studied, she scrunches her nose for a moment, then shrugs her good shoulder. ] Astrology's never really been my thing. Probably because I didn't know my actual birthday until I was 26, so I didn't really have a reason to care.
[ She's still feeling good, her mood calm and happy again because of the turn of the conversation. (And also possibly because of the pain meds.) ]
Well, then it's probably a good thing I fed you this morning, huh?
[ He can tell she's already blurring again, getting lightly punchdrunk and loose on her painkillers; an echo of last night. Bucky readjusts his position with a sigh, stretching out so there's less pressure on his ribs.
He's not particularly eager to get into the outside world again — not yet. Not when they're both injured and Daisy, especially, could do with the recovery time. She needs the rest. ]
You wanna nap a bit before heading back into SHIELD? [ He crinkles his nose fondly; remembers an episode of Friends. ] The One With The Nap Partners.
[ Through the thickening blissful fog of painkillers, Daisy recognizes that he's made a reference to something, the phrasing is too particular, but she doesn't know what the reference is to. Mentally, she makes a note to ask him about it later, though she probably won't remember. ]
A nap sounds good... [ She murmurs the words and is out not even ten seconds later, her eyes closing as soon as he suggested the idea. All she needed was permission to drift off; her last thought is of how she wishes it could always be like this. ]
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[ Does she put a comical amount of emphasis on that last part? Yep, she absolutely does. They need to lighten the mood and joking about his age is a safe space for them. She's already contemplating all the ways she could possibly emphasize his being among the elderly for said birthday celebrations. ]
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Hmm. What do people do in the 2020s to mark their birthdays?
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You're asking the wrong person. I've never done the big party thing, it's usually just dinner with cake if a mission doesn't come up.
[ She doesn't mention that she hadn't had any birthday parties growing up because she hadn't known her real birthday. That's back into the heavy stuff and a whole other kind of trauma.]
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[ A beat, a near-misstep before he tilts his left shoulder into a sheepish shrug. ]
I'm not a fan of crowds, but my invite list would be the saddest thing anyway. Even any acquaintances I know are scattered around the world instead of based here. Barton's in the midwest, Lang's on the west coast, Wanda's over in Europe, even the Asgardians are in Norway, I think Sharon's in DC... there's not much left of anyone I know.
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Well, it's the quality of friends that counts for things like this, not the quantity. So absolutely invite Sam. He can join me in giving you a whole lot of shit for being an old geezer.
[ Daisy grins suddenly, very pleased with the thought she's just had. ]
Besides, fewer people means more cake for me.
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He eats like a pig and so do I, so you'll have to stay on your toes.
[ A beat. ]
Can we make it ice cream cake?
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Of course, we can make it ice cream cake. What flavor do you want? Or flavors, I'm pretty sure you can get just about any combo these days.
[ And if he wants something weird, she'll find a place to make it, even if she has to go to the other side of the city. He deserves a good birthday after everything he's been through. ]
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[ As if she hasn't already, continually, all the time, surprised him. ]
When's your birthday?
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Her expression shifts from delighted excitement to peaceful happiness. Once upon a time, that question was a devastating one, but not anymore. ]
July 2, 1988.
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So instead, he just casts a thoughtful look to the ceiling and goes for an astrology joke, from the vaguest thing he can recall of summer signs. Amused: ]
July 2nd? So what does that make you, a... Leo?
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A Cancer, I think? Is that the crab? [ Trying to recall a chart she once studied, she scrunches her nose for a moment, then shrugs her good shoulder. ] Astrology's never really been my thing. Probably because I didn't know my actual birthday until I was 26, so I didn't really have a reason to care.
[ She's still feeling good, her mood calm and happy again because of the turn of the conversation. (And also possibly because of the pain meds.) ]
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[ He flashes her a grin; a cheesy pun, a cheesy joke, incorrigible as always. ]
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You might feel differently once you've seen me when I'm sleep-deprived and hangry.
[ Not that she's never not sleep-deprived, but add in hunger at the end of a very long day and she's not always her usual charming self. ]
yrs to wrap?
[ He can tell she's already blurring again, getting lightly punchdrunk and loose on her painkillers; an echo of last night. Bucky readjusts his position with a sigh, stretching out so there's less pressure on his ribs.
He's not particularly eager to get into the outside world again — not yet. Not when they're both injured and Daisy, especially, could do with the recovery time. She needs the rest. ]
You wanna nap a bit before heading back into SHIELD? [ He crinkles his nose fondly; remembers an episode of Friends. ] The One With The Nap Partners.
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A nap sounds good... [ She murmurs the words and is out not even ten seconds later, her eyes closing as soon as he suggested the idea. All she needed was permission to drift off; her last thought is of how she wishes it could always be like this. ]