"I can do this all day," you heard coming from the alley by the theater. There was a thud, the sound of someone smashing into a trashcan (a sound you were all too familiar with). A man stood over a slight figure, and you grabbed the man's arm.
"Hey!" you said sternly, pulling the man away. "Pick on somebody your own size."
The man threw a punch at you, but you managed to dodge it and sock the man in the jaw. The man doubled over, and you gave him a swift kick in the rear for good measure to send him off. The man ran off, and you turned to walk over to the little guy... to Steve... as your childhood friend climbed up from the garbage.
"Sometimes, I think you like getting punched," you told Steve, exasperated.
"I had him on the ropes," Steve muttered, brushing himself off. You leans down to pick up something Steve dropped.
"How many times is this?" you asked as you unfolds the paper. Sure enough, it's another failed attempt by Steve to enlist. 4F, the paper proclaims. Registrant not acceptable for military service. Then you notices something else. "Oh, you're from Paramus now? You know it's illegal to lie on your enlistment form? And seriously, Jersey?"
Steve looks like he's about to respond... then he notices your uniform. "You get your orders?"
You tilted your head. "The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow." You weren't exactly thrilled with it, but you couldn't change it, either.
Steve huffs, looks down. "I should be going."
You looked at Steve, not saying anything for a moment. Then you grinned, putting your arm around Steve. "Come on, man. It's my last night. Better get you cleaned up."
"Why, where are we going?" Steve asked.
You jerks the newspaper you'd been holding towards Steve, handing it to him. "The future."
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"Where are we going?" "The future."
Date: 2016-07-10 03:44 am (UTC)"Hey!" you said sternly, pulling the man away. "Pick on somebody your own size."
The man threw a punch at you, but you managed to dodge it and sock the man in the jaw. The man doubled over, and you gave him a swift kick in the rear for good measure to send him off. The man ran off, and you turned to walk over to the little guy... to Steve... as your childhood friend climbed up from the garbage.
"Sometimes, I think you like getting punched," you told Steve, exasperated.
"I had him on the ropes," Steve muttered, brushing himself off. You leans down to pick up something Steve dropped.
"How many times is this?" you asked as you unfolds the paper. Sure enough, it's another failed attempt by Steve to enlist. 4F, the paper proclaims. Registrant not acceptable for military service. Then you notices something else. "Oh, you're from Paramus now? You know it's illegal to lie on your enlistment form? And seriously, Jersey?"
Steve looks like he's about to respond... then he notices your uniform. "You get your orders?"
You tilted your head. "The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow." You weren't exactly thrilled with it, but you couldn't change it, either.
Steve huffs, looks down. "I should be going."
You looked at Steve, not saying anything for a moment. Then you grinned, putting your arm around Steve. "Come on, man. It's my last night. Better get you cleaned up."
"Why, where are we going?" Steve asked.
You jerks the newspaper you'd been holding towards Steve, handing it to him. "The future."
World Exposition of Tomorrow, 1943.