Re: Bar: Janus/Steve
Politics had been divisive in Steve's lifetime—even before it had been paused and extended. The New Deal, the War and the serum. He didn't trust politics or agendas, so much as ethics. After all, there were laws on the books against interracial marriage, laws that kept slavery legal and women from voting for a long time—what was legal or not had little bearing on what was right. The Captain's politics aligned only with that.—He wasn't thinking about any of that now. He wasn't reflecting on himself so much as watching Allen, smiling in response to his smile, obvious in his pleasure of the (somewhat) familiar.
Fair eyebrows rose at the admission that Allen hated his job, not in judgment so much as surprise. For some reason, the other man had never struck Steve as someone who took what life gave him, whether it was doing what you had to do or not. He appreciated the fact that he could very well be wrong or that Allen could very well have changed. Invariably, he had. The amount of time between Then and Now made changing an inevitability. Steve sucked whiskey from his own lips. "How'd you end up there? Driving a bus?" He thought a second. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I can't say I love every day of my job either." His glass found the bar empty, and Steve, with posture surprisingly bad, leaned into his elbows. "Weird people." A repetition tied to a thought. "What qualities earn someone that title? Is that too philosophical?"
He gave a small laugh at the glance shot sideways. "I am. It's just by the highway." He gestured vaguely over one rolled shoulder. His hands folded together in the air. He smiled at Janus. "Why? Should I not be?"