open post;

[nostalgiabomb]

( x )

Comments

[twelveoclock]

Yer a menace all right.

But, hypothetically speakin', what kinda bad guys would we be dealin' with?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Another pause. ]

Well. The guys I ran into were a bunch of dickwads with laser guns and plans for bigger and badder weapons. Terrorists, I guess. A splinter group that may or may not have splattered themselves on the moon.

[twelveoclock]

[ Now there's a group of guys that would get on famously with the deadlocks ]

So that stuff you been totin' around would be, what--?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ His eyes flit over to the case, sitting at the foot of the couch; somehow it made its way to the cabin while he was busy being treated. When his gaze returns to McCree, his expression turns wary. ]

Data. Plans. [ For those weapons he mentioned specifically. ] Information on where they'd be going next.

[twelveoclock]

[ He catches that expression and holds his hands up ] Just tryin' to get a feelin' for what you n' your team do.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ It takes a few seconds, but Peter lets his wariness drop away. ]

So long as that's all you're doing, then we're fine.

[twelveoclock]

You are a mighty suspicious person, you know that?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He shrugs both shoulders, looking unperturbed. ]

Force of habit.

[twelveoclock]

Uh-huh. Not like we could arrest ya or somethin' even if we wanted to. We don't exist anymore, remember?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ A derisive little snort. ]

Sure, sure. [ He gestures, encompassing the cabin with a wave of his hand. ] For an organization that doesn't exist, you guys seem to be doing okay.

[twelveoclock]

We used t'be kinda a big deal. Got a few leftovers from those days.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. ]

So what makes you guys stick around? Seems kinda counterproductive to stay aboard an already sunken ship.

[twelveoclock]

[ He shrugs ]

Just 'cause the Omnic Crisis is over don't mean that there ain't wrongs in this world that need rightin'.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ His head tilts a little. ]

So, what, that makes you guys like the A-Team or something?

[twelveoclock]

I like to think we got better aim, but it ain't too bad a comparison.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He laughs a little. ]

Fair enough.

[ He glances out the window again, clearing his throat – clearly working up to something. Then, ]

... So. Earlier. [ A pause. ] I guess I should've thanked you for fishing me out of the desert.

[twelveoclock]

[ Well, a thank you was certainly not what he was expecting after all that build-up, but he’ll take it. ]

Just doin’ my job.

[nostalgiabomb]

Yeah, well, job or not, I guess I owe you one. And I repay my debts, so long as they're only mildly inconvenient for me.

[twelveoclock]

I'll be damned. I didn't know you were such a saint.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He gives a quick salute. ]

That's me. Pure angel, through and through.

[twelveoclock]

Careful. This plane comes with a bullshit detector, and you're liable to break it at this point.

Anyway, got another few hours left before we land. You're welcome t' put a movie on if ya want.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He settles back in his seat. ]

If it's all the same, I think I'm just gonna pass out, considering you woke me up at ass o'clock this morning.

[twelveoclock]

It wasn't that bad.

[ But he still motions to the empty space next to him ]

You want the couch? I can move.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He gives the couch a considering look, then, ]

Nah. I'm good. I'm alright here.

[twelveoclock]

[ He shrugs, standing up from his spot on the couch anyway. ] Suit yerself. I'm gonna go talk to the doc.