Who: Conor & Cathleen What: Post-mission twin time When: August 15th, 3 a.m. Where: Cathleen's flat Warnings: Language, probably? IDK
Conor hit the streets outside of the London HQ, earbuds jammed firmly in his ears. He'd had them on since the flight back from Siberia, where they'd been dispatched to take down a cheap HYDRA knockoff. Apparently they'd seen one too many movies and thought they could make a real life Winter Soldier. And on the way back, the rest of the team hadn't stopped bitching about how cold it had been. Conor had had a great time, though. He'd shed his boots and jacket almost as soon as they'd touched down. Apart from the 'fighting a terribly organized evil organization', it wasn't too bad.
But now he was in that in-between state, where he really wanted to collapse and go to sleep, but his brain refused to let him. So in his mind, the best option, of course, was to go see Cathleen. Her flatmates were used to him just randomly turning up by now, and the only reaction he got was a head poking out of a bedroom. Probably to check who the hell was rattling around at this time of night. Conor waved, the girl yawned and waved back, and she disappeared back into her room.
Conor headed down the hall and let himself into Cathleen's room, letting himself fall face-first onto the bed. "God, beds are great," he said, by way of greeting.