Can somebody please just tie me down- Characters: Nick and Jessica Setting: A bar Content: Nothing questionable Summary: Nick and Jess need to work out this weird stuff between them
Ask anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. where to find Nick Fury after hours and they'd direct you not to Nick's apartment, but to a nearby bar. It was a small joint, named after the proprietor, and only one of many that had sprung up in the populated areas of the Sphere since the migration. If there was one thing you needed after the world ended, it was a stiff drink. Everyone knew Nick here, he was a regular among regulars, with his own spot at the end of the bar that was kept empty for him most nights. That was where Jessica found him, on his usual stool, throwing back some approximation of a whiskey (synthesis of alcohol came first, of course, and all those bars followed), with his ugly cat curled around his shoulders. Bart was as much a regular now as Fury was, and the pair of them were here more often lately.
Too much, probably, but Nick didn't want to think too hard about it. Everybody had their way of coping, and this was becoming his. To say a lot of things were going to shit was an understatement. Alien refugees and keeping up with political bullshit, the mutant thing, threats from within and without, some mysterious scary sickness popping up. It was one thing after another and Fury was always able to deal, that's what he did, when no one else wanted to or could. Nick Fury could get shit done, but lately it felt like the stakes had changed. Somehow, without the Earth, with S.H.I.E.L.D. only a shadow of what it had been, he felt like things were slipping out of control. Fury fucking hated that feeling, and even more he hated the idea of admitting that he felt it, so he turned off his comm device for a few hours every night and told it to the bottom of a glass. Fuck it, he'd figure it out. He always did.
When Jessica approached him, he only seemed faintly surprised to see her. Nick nodded, warily, wondering when the last time they'd exchanged more than a couple words outside of a crisis situation. The place was mostly empty tonight, which was just as well, it meant there was an empty stool beside his. Hooking it with his foot, Nick pulled it out for her and then picked up his glass. With a swift tilt of his head that made Bart give a disgruntled meow, Fury tossed back the rest of his drink and then caught the bartender's eye and held up two fingers, ordering a fresh drink for himself and one for Jess. A peace offering.