WHO:The Winter Soldier, Jefferson, and Wonder Woman WHERE: Heading to the grocery store WHEN: Early evening on August 29 WHAT: Bucky makes friends ♥ WARNINGS: Gonna be some violence up in here STATUS: Complete
Assets do not.. This thought had been heavy in Agent Barnes' mind; there was a list long enough to surround the Kremlin of things assets did not. They did not talk back. They did not refuse. There was only one thing assets did: follow orders. This was what Agent Barnes was doing. That Barton and the Russian bitch didn't was unnerving; if they had no handlers, who controlled them?
These thoughts did not sit comfortably, and Agent Barnes found himself growing more and more agitated as the conversation with his handler and the incompetent agent--no, incompetent asset--carried on. Eventually, he'd just switched the little device's screen off and shoved it back in its holster. He'd discovered that it fit nicely in the top derringer holster. No alteration necessary.
That had been about the time that Jefferson had left the tailor's shop, heading toward the grocery shop. Agent Barnes dropped off the roof, boots hitting the ground hard. He caught up to his handler a moment later, keeping a slight distance behind him.
His handler wanted to fix him; for good or ill there would be more programming. At least Agent Jefferson was really a handler. And at least he'd been given his privacy for most of the day, left to stew about the bird and the spider.
The fury was... a flaw. It would be repaired when his programming was updated, which would appear to be happening soon. So he didn't quite think it needed to be reported. It was incidental fury at best; it did not, so far as he could tell, spread beyond the bird and the spider.
His flaws were relatively minor compared to the Widow's gaping errors. But he supposed that it was important to focus the effort on the asset that yielded the best results--clearly, in this case, Agent Barnes. This thought relaxed him considerably, enough that he could reach out and provide what he assumed Agent Jefferson wanted: conversation that showed initiative or interest of some sort.
"What are we having for dinner?" he asked. He looked ahead of them, gauging the townspeople and visitors who filled the pathways. Always searching for a threat, lest Agent Jefferson be in danger. He marked a tall woman with dark hair; she seemed more physically capable than the shorter people surrounding her. He would have put her height close to his and Jefferson's; within two or three inches, perhaps. He let a hand move to one of his Glocks. Better to be prepared than not, he supposed.