[ 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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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.
no subject
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. ]