Silver Death

Machine Retrieval

The machine is here. Lovely. Guess who won't be sleeping well tonight knowing that it's in the same building?

That's right! Me!

After the supper and the worry over Winter killing Peter, I wander back down to the abandoned floor.

It's dust covered and should be rather disturbing, my footprints have left tracks in the dust, showing everywhere that I have wondered before and after Winter and Steve came to find me.

One trail, obvious with the heels I am wearing currently trek to the kitchen, from the elevator and then to the socializing area then to where I am now, the bar.

Oddly enough the floor seems rather familiar, weather it looks like another floor or why it seems like I should know it I am not sure.

The dance floor separating the lounging area and the bar. The kitchen is closed off from this area by hidden doors.

Guess this is the party floor, only used every so often. Even though Tony seems to be the partying type.

Stretching my legs, I stand and move across the floor with a random spin in the middle of it. Up on my toes, one leg far out behind me. Arms spread wide, chin up and eyes shut. Just like a ballet dancer, just like training.

Smiling my shoes come off, now only in bare feet I dance. Melodic and fluent. Legs stretched out, arms close then spread widely. Legs stiff but relaxing with every twirl, step or jump. Feet pointed while in the air, and raised onto the toes while not.

The dance moves me towards the couches, the backs of my knees tip into the arm rest. I let myself fall, face up with my feet dangling over the rest.

My eyes shut, head flopped over to the side. I don't hear the elevator door open, or James shuffle to the bar.

I only notice him when the glasses on the shelf clink together, and the booze starts pouring into the half closed cylinder.

Sitting up and moving my feet I look at him, "if you can't get drunk what's the point?"

A gun is pointed in my direction, and slowly brought down. "You should know better than to scare me."
"I don't care. But what's the point?"
"Can't sleep. May as well drink."
"Bring me a double."

Without a respond he grabs a second glass, picks up the title plus a second one and makes his way over.

"You do the pouring, I like the heavy hand."
"Shut up."

He laughs and I fill my own glass. Swirling it around before taking a sip. It's a chestnut like taste, but with a bit of a tinge to it. I can't feel any alcohol getting to me. It's probably weak.

Picking up the bottle I check the back. "Only 20%?"
"Yah. Why?"
"Weak."

We sit in silence for quite awhile, before he asked if I remember the last time we were on this floor. "No. Fill in my memory?"
"We were having a party celebrating you being back with us, HYDRA infiltrated through the caterers."
"That's why I was wearing heels."
"What?"
"Oh, a memory surfaced awhile ago, I was on a plane with Anatoly and the third Soldier. I think his name was like, Alex or something like that. They were father and son, I kicked one while wearing heels. It's all I can remember of him."

James shakes his head at me and downs the last contents for his glass, setting it down and nodding his nose to it, asking me to pour him a glass. I...comply.