Reality in Motion

drunk thoughts, sober words

His door was suddenly thrown open – slamming against the wall with a bang, followed by her voice which excitedly yelled out, "BAR TOUR!"

He looked over to see her standing in the doorway: a wide smile stretched across her face, arms raised up triumphantly, and holding a piece of paper. A laugh escaped from him as she shut the door behind her and walked over to where he was standing by the dining table. The paper in her hand was slapped down on the table, showing him what was written on it - or rather, mapped out on it.

"I worked on this for the past three days and I think I finally figured out the perfect, quintessential DC Bar Tour." she explained, looking over at him, "Plus, it makes a smiley face." she grinned at him and he smiled back at her.

The bar tour had been her idea. Somehow during one of their talks, he had mentioned the bar he and the rest of the Howling Commandos had gone to. She took that as an opportunity to schedule a night for them to go out to some of the bars in DC. He wasn't complaining; he liked drinking, but the serum caused him not to be affected by alcohol in the same way he once was. Not that he ever drank before the serum - one drink and he would be on the floor or puking in the alley as Bucky carried him home. It would be nice to go out with Q and not have to worry about any of that happening.

"Okay, come on, get ready. We should get going before the bars get too busy." she waved her hands at him, urging him to move. His brow furrowed and he glanced down at his clothes before looking back at her,

"I am ready." he answered her. She stared at him for a moment before a barely concealed laugh came out of her. She clasped her hands over her mouth and stuffed it back down, but he still noticed how her eyes seemed to light up a bit. Then she dropped her hand from her mouth and shook her head,

"No, no, you're not wearing that." she continued to shake her head.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, looking back down at his outfit to make sure there weren't any stains or any holes.

"You have to change." she responded, not actually giving him an answer.

"Why? Why don't you have to change?" he asked, gesturing to her outfit.

It was different than her usual business suit. Sure, she had her usual button up shirt, but it was half tucked into the front of her black tight pants - the back hanging out and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. A pair of white Converse sneakers were on her feet and she had her hair up in a messy bun, strands already falling out around her face. He wasn't sure if that was on purpose or not.

She didn't answer him just put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around, pushing him gently toward his bedroom.

"You look like my dad." she explained, clearly that was a bad thing.

"I'm old enough to be your dad." he quipped back as he looked over his shoulder at her.

"You're old enough to be my grandpa." she corrected him, giving him a look and crossing her arms over her chest, "Go change. And no plaid!" she held up a finger, making a point. He sighed, but did as she asked.

In his bedroom, he shut the door with one hand and unbuttoned his plaid shirt with the other. Pulling it off, he hung it back up in his closet and swiped through the rest of the shirts that were hanging up. The ones he wore regularly were in the center, but there were a lot of others on each end that he hadn't touched. Q had filled up his closet for every occasion, but he stuck with what he knew. Back in his day, it was a lot of button ups and plaid with slacks and a pair of nice shoes. These days, he saw a lot of men wearing tees and jeans, which weren't uncommon back in his day, but were more for those working in the factories. Still, he figured he might as well dress as the rest did, so he grabbed a plain white tee and a pair of dark wash jeans with a pair of boots. He pulled on his outfit and then opened his bedroom door, seeing her sitting on the arm of his couch, waiting for him.