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[nostalgiabomb]

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[twelveoclock]

No idea. But we knew that whatever it was, it was best kept outa certain people's hands.

[nostalgiabomb]

Like the Deadwoods? [ will he ever get that right. ] Or someone else?

[twelveoclock]

[ McCree nearly corrects him again, but stops himself. At this point, he could be messing it up on purpose ]

Mostly them, considerin' you landed in their turf.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He gives an acknowledging hum, pausing to think this over for a second or two.

Then, ] I thought folks from shadowy organizations were supposed to wear more black?

[twelveoclock]

Black's not really my color.

But I oughta make that call. The sooner we get ya to Winston and Doc Ziegler, the sooner you can reunite with your team.

[nostalgiabomb]

Ziegler? [ That's a new name, and he frowns. Part of him assumed that this Winston guy was all they needed to meet. ]

Go on, then. Not like I'm goin' anywhere.

[twelveoclock]

Closest thing to a literal angel I've ever met. She'll get ya patched up.

She ain't gonna take no for an answer, either.

[ But he stands, fishing a phone out of his pocket and dredging up a cigar from somewhere. ]

Won't be a minute.

[ With that, he steps outside. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ w e l p. Peter's pretty sure the guy stepped outside for privacy, but fuck that.

He carefully moves to the door, and while his first inclination is to press his ear against it, he also knows that's a rookie mistake. Easier to get caught there, as logical as the position is for eavesdropping. Instead, he presses his back against the wall besides the door, trying to listen in. ]

[twelveoclock]

[ This ain't McCree's first rodeo, so to speak. He's moved away from the door, leaning against the back of the Jeep and keeping his tone low as he chats with Winston. Peter will have to really strain to catch snippets of this conversation, but it's all pretty standard stuff. He relays what happened in the crater. He relays what Peter said about his team. He arranges a ride out of there for the next day.

Winston has a few things to say to him, as well, and he mostly responds with quiet "uh-huhs".

He's about to hang up when he pauses, and says softly, ] Hey, Winston? Do me a favor and have Athena run a search for the name "Peter Quill" and send me the results.

[ Yeah, he's having the Overwatch AI dig up dirt on Peter. Sorry bro.

He snuffs out his cigar and heads back into the room. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ wow rude

Peter frowns as he focuses, but he only manages to get bits and pieces. Nothing that manages to catch his attention. He thinks he hears his name, but doesn't think much of it – he offered that up freely, after all, and there was surely no way that could possibly bite him in the ass.

As McCree is saying his goodbyes, Peter moves away from the door, carefully lying back in bed, ankles crossed and one hand behind his head. When the door opens, he quirks an eyebrow. ]

All good?

[twelveoclock]

[ He saunters back in and tucks his phone away in his pocket. ] For the most part.

Winston tells me somethin' crashed into the moon. You wouldn't know anything about that, would ya?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He feigns a look of annoyance. ]

What, you think all aliens know what's going on outside of Earth? I'm pretty sure that's discrimination.

[twelveoclock]

Figured ya might at least have an idea. There’s an old research facility up there, and whatever it was came mighty close to takin’ it out.

But I guess if it don’t pose any kinda threat, it doesn’t matter. [ He meanders over to the closet and pulls out a folded up roll-away cot. He wheels it over to the foot of the bed and begins setting it up ]. Might wanna make good on that nap a’ yours. We’re leavin’ first thing in the mornin’.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Circumstances being what they are, Peter does not feel guilty in the slightest for claiming the bed and watches McCree setup the roll-away impassively.

He also does not make good on that nap of his, deciding to frown instead. ]

Since when was there a research facility on the moon?

[twelveoclock]

[ He shrugs, taking a seat on the edge of the cot and kicking off his boots. ] Been there for a while. It’s where Winston’s from.

… Ah, oughta warn ya. Winston’s a gorilla.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Flatly, ] Winston’s a what now.

[twelveoclock]

A gorilla. Or are you askin’ ‘cause you don’t know what that is?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He waves a hand dismissively. ] I know what it is.

You’re taking me to see a scientist gorilla from the moon. [ A pause. ] What.

[twelveoclock]

We got robots vyin’ for civil rights– [ he waves a hand towards the TV ] –and that’s the part you’re havin’ trouble with?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He shrugs a shoulder. ] Eh. I saw Blade Runner. Robots becoming self-aware is kind of old hat.

[twelveoclock]

[ Flatly, ] You saw Blade Runner. What, the last time you were here?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter quirks an eyebrow, the look he offers one part challenging, two parts smug. ] You work with a gorilla from the moon who’s a scientist, and me seeing a movie once upon a time is what you’re having trouble with?

[twelveoclock]

[ They have a staring contest for a couple of seconds; McCree breaks it first, rolling his eyes. ] Beginin’ to wish I’d just left you in that crater.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Peter flashes him a winning smile. ]

Aww, thanks. I’m starting to warm up to you, too.

[twelveoclock]

[ McCree’s not truly annoyed- it takes a lot to rile him- but he scrunches his nose up all the same. ]

Hooray.

[ He eases himself off the cot, going about the business of getting ready for bed– mostly he just takes off his gun belt and drapes it over the chair with his hat and serape, within easy reach. He flips off the lights, leaving only the one on the bedside table on. ]

I’m serious about gettin’ some shut-eye. We got a long trip ahead of us.