"Which boy scout?" Beverly asked. "I was thinking Clint's husband." She didn't know Bucky well, but had heard a lot about him from Clint during archery lessons (she was getting pretty good, by the way - working those arm and shoulder muscles, she wasn't as noodley as she looked, she could heft a bow and a quiver of arrows just fine).
But no doubt they'd find some good stuff - things for their little community that would put a twinkle in someone's eye or a spring in someone's step. Plus, getting to soak in a piece of history - New York City during an era where Bev hadn't even been close to being alive - was kind of nifty too. Hoorah.
She snorted a laugh, sipping on her drink. "It's going slow because the ones in charge are idiots?" was her best guess. Stan was having some kind of existential crisis, according to Richie, and Eddie - well, Eddie had been upset ever since he found out about Richie's Psychic Problems secondhand. "I feel like I should just do it myself, Jesus."