Re: Bar: Janus/Steve
Jeffrey Allen had been a traitorous hippie too. But then he got his marching orders, and too everyone's surprise, took them. His dissent hadn't been for religious reasons or even strictly political ones, and he didn't feel like it was making his point if he skipped to Canada. The reverse: he wanted to better his country, the one he had been born to, the one that made mistakes and took its power for granted. The free love stuff had been something of a plus. Remembering it was like remembering a game you played as a child, it seemed that distant. That feeling of being part of something bigger... that was gone.
Janus figured out quickly that Steve wasn't going to push him about the alive thing or the young thing or even the new name thing, and he gave him something of a grateful smile, close-mouthed and not nearly as attractive or beguiling as the bright one he used so often as a shield.
He chuckled, glancing down and back up again to catch the arrival of his drink, though not the indication to the bartender to add it to the tab. No solider who fought with the captain would let the man buy the round without putting up a fight. He was that kind of man, McRory. Janus gathered the glass up for himself and took a deep drink. He hadn't entirely been kidding about being shaken, obviously, and it would take him a minute to get back into the mind of who he was now. "Sure, why not? I like a chat with the neighbors." He smiled at Steve.