(no subject)

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

I'm here. Reporting for duty, sir.

Comments

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

[And, as usual, he has to try not to laugh. The kid's misconceptions about military life are really quite endearing.] Alright, then. First stop: Cost Cutters. Second stop: forest.

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

[Now that he's committed to this, he's taking his attitude towards Mr. Barnes totally seriously. He was making referring to him by his honorific a habit before; now, it's a fixture.] Why Cost Cutters? What's there, sir?

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

A haircut. You said you wanted one.

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

... Oh. [He runs his left hand through his hair nervously.]

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

[He smirks.] What? Havin' second thoughts?

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

[He shakes his head emphatically.] No... no, sir!

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

[Dear lord, this kid has Bucky in permanent "trying not to laugh" mode right now.] Alright, then, load up the trunk.

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

[And even now, David doesn't notice - he's too busy trying to keep his face from showing any of the doubt or anxiety he's feeling.] Yes, sir! [He nods quickly and runs back into the apartment to grab the duffels Mr. Barnes told him to pack for the trip.]

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

[He goes outside to unlock the car and open the trunk, then returns to put on his jacket and gloves.] Alright, go load up, kid.

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

Yes, sir. [He pops the trunk and begins loading the duffels in, one by one. They're heavy, and some he strains with, but he doesn't complain once. When he'd done he closes the trunk and wipes his brow before coming back over to stand in front of Mr. Barnes.] Trunk's loaded and ready to go, sir.

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

Alright, then, let's go. [He locks the apartment door and gets in the car.]

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

[David slides into the passenger seat and buckles up, casting nervous glances over at Mr. Barnes when he thinks he isn't looking.] Uh... Mr. Barnes, sir? Is it okay if I ask you a question? I mean, Permission to ask you a question, sir?"

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

Of course. [He starts driving them to Cost Cutters.]

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

[And, as usual, he has to try not to laugh. The kid's misconceptions about military life are really quite endearing.] Alright, then. First stop: Cost Cutters. Second stop: forest.

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

[Now that he's committed to this, he's taking his attitude towards Mr. Barnes totally seriously. He was making referring to him by his honorific a habit before; now, it's a fixture.] Why Cost Cutters? What's there, sir?

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

A haircut. You said you wanted one.

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

... Oh. [He runs his left hand through his hair nervously.]

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

[He smirks.] What? Havin' second thoughts?

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

[He shakes his head emphatically.] No... no, sir!

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

[Dear lord, this kid has Bucky in permanent "trying not to laugh" mode right now.] Alright, then, load up the trunk.

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

[And even now, David doesn't notice - he's too busy trying to keep his face from showing any of the doubt or anxiety he's feeling.] Yes, sir! [He nods quickly and runs back into the apartment to grab the duffels Mr. Barnes told him to pack for the trip.]

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

[He goes outside to unlock the car and open the trunk, then returns to put on his jacket and gloves.] Alright, go load up, kid.

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

Yes, sir. [He pops the trunk and begins loading the duffels in, one by one. They're heavy, and some he strains with, but he doesn't complain once. When he'd done he closes the trunk and wipes his brow before coming back over to stand in front of Mr. Barnes.] Trunk's loaded and ready to go, sir.

[iced-soldier.livejournal.com]

Alright, then, let's go. [He locks the apartment door and gets in the car.]

[sixthanimorph.livejournal.com]

[David slides into the passenger seat and buckles up, casting nervous glances over at Mr. Barnes when he thinks he isn't looking.] Uh... Mr. Barnes, sir? Is it okay if I ask you a question? I mean, Permission to ask you a question, sir?"