|preston rawlings, psychic accountant (clerk) wrote in rooms,|
@ 2014-04-01 20:14:00
|Entry tags:||!hotel, *log, bucky barnes, natasha romanoff, peggy carter, preston rawlings, shae o'malley, steve rogers|
[Marvel Spies Meet n' Greet. The Hotel.]
[After his conversation with Steve, Natasha, and Bucky, Preston agreed to meet in the hotel as a sort of unofficial representative of the new arrivals. Most of the new arrivals were not at all interested in being represented, but Preston, being Preston, and a secret optimistic bureaucrat at heart, wanted everyone to avoid outright antagonism if at all possible.
It being Captain America coming to the meet played a big part in the reality of him standing there, looking so much the Boring Official White Guy in a Suit that it hurt, and trying not to imagine all the ways this could go wrong depend on which version of these people were here. But Preston had the advantage of remembering Tony's opinions on Steve, if not really Natasha and Bucky, and despite the complete catastrophe of the threats of file-pulling and dossiers, he was willing to go on faith.
A little faith. The rest of him was all non-faith, and non-faith was experience, cynicism, and maybe a dash of recent trauma thanks to the last attempt on his life, which happened only hours before he ended up in the hotel for good. He thought about Saint as he rounded the corner, grateful that the guy isn't going to be around on this date. The non-faith is taking the form of Gwen in his ear and watching from his lapel, and probably a couple more spies lurking around the lobby just in case things went bad. Preston would have preferred everyone stayed safely anonymous, but he wasn't about to order people around if they wanted to show up.
He glanced around nervously, hoping Reece wasn't waiting around feeling trigger-happy, conflicted about whether he wanted to see Shae, who he didn't really know that well. On the one hand more faces meant less alone. On the other hand more faces could get shot (or, more likely 'brought in for questioning') if this was a bad idea.
Preston sighed, shook out his jacket, and sat on one of the dusty cushions in the hotel lobby.]