pineslog | I can't help it, man! I'm all about stupid!

Entry tags:

I can't help it, man! I'm all about stupid!

Who: Kenzi Malikov and EVERYONE?!
Where: The nail salon, Rumlow's gym, Steve/Nat/Bucky's house, Main Street
When: April 1st to 5th
What: Catch all log for shenanigans, bonding, mischief, and conspiracy theories
Warnings: Will update as needed.
[Open]

I will match your tag style, prose or action! Either is fine!

Getcho nails did

Work for a living? Does she look like a chump?

...Apparently the answer is yes, because she DOES have a job. She doesn't remember ever applying, but she also definitely remembers working here and doing peoples nails and actually having fun most of the time. It's a creative outlet and it gets her off the couch and out of the house. Working doesn't give her time to mourn the loss of video games she thought she had and ... a person she just can't quite remember. Plus, she's got actual bills to pay now. She's not squatting in a crack shack with--... SOMEONE! Who is it?

It's fine. It's probably not important. She's got a life to worry about. A fresh start. Who needs to steal and con when you can apply rhinestones to peoples fingernails for eight hours a day? Hard work. Honest... work.

Whatever. It's fine. Come on in, sit down at her station, and let her rescue your cuticles. Damn.

He's never coming out.

Kenzi is starting to think she married a workaholic. Which is honestly hilarious considering she is the exact opposite. Of course, it's not all work for Rumlow. He gets to do pretty much his favourite thing ever, which for some reason is lifting weights and getting sweaty and teaching other people how to lift weights and get sweaty until everyone is just lifting things for HOURS! It smells like gym class in there. Probably because... it's a gym. A gym that is open FOREVER which means he leaves the house early and doesn't come back until late.

Eventually, it occurs to Kenzi that she actually misses her husband when he's not home, and that leads to her either visiting him while he's at work and she's on lunch or waiting outside until he's done work so they can head home together.

Watching people get buff gets boring after a while. Seriously, there's only so much ogling a girl can do before she starts to get antsy. Rumlow's busy. There's no way she's gonna touch the equipment when she could just be sitting around instead. The railing out front is a good a spot as any. Fresh air, peace and quiet, lot's of-- UGH, it's boring out here TOO! Someone please talk to her before her eyes roll out of her skull.

How do you even neighbour?

Knock Knock! Now that everyone's no longer dying, Kenzi finally got to bake a fresh batch of cookies to deliver to her neighbours. Okay, mostly they're for Steve, but she knows Bucky's probably going to inhale a few and she'd be super stoked if Nat had some. She hasn't actually talked to Steve since the "accident" and she hasn't seen Bucky or Nat since the party.

Enough of her memory is back that she's... conflicted... about things. Some stuff just doesn't add up, some stuff feels too real to not be true! It's hard to sort out. Kinda makes her head hurt. What she does know is that Steve was super freaking nice to her and she didn't even recognize him and she needs to do something nice to apologize/pay him back. She also knows that she really does care about Bucky, even if he's mad at her for a stupid reason.

Even if he might not actually... be...

No. Nope. Don't go there. Shake it off, Kenzi. Smile.

She continues to wait patiently with the container of cookies in her hands.

Choose your own adventure!

Not feeling any of the above? Hit me up with something else!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hey!" She beams, turning her head to demand a REAL kiss instead of just settling for that adorable one on her cheek. "Nah, not too long. Just forever."

She could wait inside the gym, but the weather really is getting nicer and and she likes to people watch. As much as she complains dramatically and loudly about most things in life, she's actually pretty content. Especially when Rumlow is finally done for the day.

"Help me out a sec, I think my butt has fused to the railing. There's some kind of permanent indent in there now." She gets her arm around him and uses him to steady herself as she gets down, stiff and a little sore from sitting there so long. It's her own damn fault. She knows this. "How was work?" God, they're so domestic. It's so WEIRD!

... But kind of nice?

Of course his wife gets a real kiss, pressing against her without letting her fall. He snorts at her hyperbole, arm coming off her shoulders to take hers and help her poor, fused butt off the railing. He glances back and lets out a low whistle.

"Look at that dent you left," he remarks, completely teasing. She melds to him and he enjoys the feel of her body against his. He hums at the question, taking the light punch she offers in her revenge. "Work was fine. Thinking about pushing some flyers around town to increase customers or something."

The problem with a small town. Not everyone's into boxing, and the majority of their clientele is men. Which Rumlow doesn't really mind, but it might be nice to have some girls for variety -- maybe keep Kenzi company instead of ogling her like that one guy he had to chew out today.

"How about you?" he asks as they start to set off back home.

What an ACTUAL JERK! But he's her jerk and she's still smiling up at him because he's terrible and she loves it.

Having some girls in the gym might make Kenzi want to actually spend more time there. You know, physically inside the building possibly even working out instead of just... visiting Rumlow and waiting around for him to come home. Also she likes the idea of more customers meaning more cash and a car and maybe diamond encrusted taxidermy crows for the entryway or silk thongs or something. Dream big, Kenzi.

"It was a pretty chill day. Had a couple of cool clients, one insanely polished lady that was just like... wow, the most put together person I have ever seen. Awh, and there was this kid that let me do his nails with some blue glitter, we bonded over our gothness." Working isn't actually terrible? Kenzi's shocked. She likes going to the salon and she likes interacting with customers and making people happy. Some of them are total bitches, but even that is something to talk about later.

"I could put a few flyers up at the shop if you want? Maybe have a stack by the register or something." Increase traffic, increase money, doesn't involve walking around town and physically handing them out! Perfect plan. Perfect life? Too perfect.

Kenzi frowns as they walk, hanging onto Rumlow's shirt a little tighter.

"What, you mean someone actually Stepford to match the town?" Rumlow asks with a huff of a laugh. It sounds like a joke. It's not. At least she's finding other guys to paint the nails of. His own are chipped (again) and Rumlow shoves his hand in his pocket while the other sits at her waist. She always insists on starting from scratch, so that means she's gotta wipe off the old before she can put on the new. He's patient enough for it, hence letting her do it in the first place, and it's not like anyone's around to point out regulations.

"That'd be great though, Kenzi. Though, I dunno how many people getting their nails done are gonna wanna learn how to beat people up, but who knows. Might be a niche market waiting to be tapped."

He looks down to smile at her when he notes the frown on her face. He nudges his hip against hers, brows set in a similar fashion.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, still walking to keep from anything being conspicuous. It's something he just does around here, sort of on default. It just seems like a smart move, considering the all too obvious vibe of the place.

Hey, it's a bonding ritual, okay? They get to hang out and watch TV and she does his nails and it's super chill. She loves that he lets her do this shit with him. He's actually man enough to let his wife paint his nails and she loves that about him. She loves a lot of things about him.

"Hey, I'd love to learn to beat people up. You've literally never offered to teach me. Probably because you're scared I'd kick your ass." Ha. A joke. The only tough guy she can actually take is Bucky and that's because she's been doing it since they were kids...

Since-- ... I mean...

Kenzi sighs, keeping up with him as they walk. She knows people are watching and listening and she quickly glances up to see if she can actually pick out any camera nearby. As long as they keep their heads down, they probably can't see what they're saying.

"I just-- ... I kinda want this to be real? Is that bad? Because I know it's not. I know I'm supposed to be someone else, and I lived a completely different life than the one that's in my head, but-- ..." She looks up at him with a strained smile, "I like this one more?"

"You mean like when you decide you want to spoon me, but you can't lift your leg up over my hip and just end up smacking your foot into my ass? That the kind of ass-kicking you're talking about?"

Really though, Rumlow doesn't think for a second she isn't capable of fighting. The way things are here, he's coming to realize -- nothing is what it seems. This life at the gym, this marriage. It's a cover. A damn good one too, must have put him through some paces to get him to believe this story. He remembers more than he did at the start, little by little. Snippets of memory of training, fighting in SHIELD operations. It feels far more real than coaching at a gym, their faces are so much crisper than the vague notions he sometimes gets from this place.

He thinks Kenzi's coming to terms with the same. She talks and Rumlow's brows furrow deeper. Not from anger, but this sort of empathy like he knows better than he ought to how she feels. It stirs within him and he pulls her closer, tipping his head down to kiss the top of hers. He notes her glance too, knows it's not just some strange bird she's listening and looking for.

"It's simpler. But there is something real here."

"Pffff, shut up." No, that is not the ass-kicking she's talking about. That is the fault of all their blankets and sheets and being half asleep and there being so much of him that she can't get him in her guard. See? She pays attention sometimes. Sometimes.

It's been three months and there are still things she doesn't remember entirely. That's not the case for most of the other people she's talked to about this. Kenzi's theory on that, one of many theories that she can't voice for fear of breaking these insane rules posted around town, is that she doesn't have them all back because she doesn't want them back. She's rejecting it. If you knew you were a thief living on the streets and crashing in condemned houses, constantly getting into trouble, would you want to embrace that shit when the alternative was so much better?

Not to mention, there's... parts that can't be real. Parts that she's not sure if she's made up or hallucinated and they make her seem crazy. A woman sucking some dude's face until he dies? A guy that can whistle until your brain pops? Police turning into wolves? That's not real. That's like what happens when you fall asleep with a movie on and your brain can't tell if it's a dream or not.

Rumlow kisses her and the smile becomes less strained. This is real. He's right. Maybe not all of it, but enough of it for her to want to hold on.

"You mean you aren't just hanging around for my hot bod and our insane, magnetic, sexual attraction of epicness?" She isn't. That's PART of it, obviously, but it's not the whole reason. "I wish we could just... talk. For real. But--"

Another glance upwards. Another sweep of the area. He must know by now, too. He's level headed. Blends in. An upstanding citizen. But there's an edge to Rumlow. She knows he's too smart to not see what this place is. He's not exactly one of those people that just willingly submits to this kind of shit.

...Is he?

He has to smile at that. Kenzi really isn't wrong -- she's downright feisty in the sack. Fucking amazing, but no. That's not the only reason he's still here. Rumlow gets the impression that he's supposed to be. Why else give a cover as a married couple? He just wishes he remembered the mission. His lips press together at her looking about.

She's not wrong there, either. Worst part is, he doesn't know how paranoid to be. It must be why they were trained so intensely for this role. To blend in that much better, in case they really were never allowed to lower their guard. There are still pieces missing in the puzzle, but Rumlow thinks he's starting to get the big picture. He only wishes, like Kenzi, there were an easier way to talk.

"Might be able to," Rumlow says, glancing towards the edge of town. "Long as we keep our voices low and our body language neutral."

His voice dips down, quieter, though his demeanor appears casual. He smiles at Kenzi, reassuring her that they can talk, as long as they play it cool. As they approach a street, Rumlow hangs a right, steering Kenzi to come along with.

"Let's take he scenic route."

See? How the fuck is he so smart? Knowing about low voices and neutral body language. Must be a military thing. Except that's not real? Unless it is. FUCK! It's so hard to tell! There's no way he's like her, though. Actual street-kid thief only knowing how to not draw attention to herself because it's necessary for survival. She doesn't want to have to fess up to that and have him think any less of her.

Not that she gives a shit what people think! Except she does now-- well... when it comes to Rumlow she does-- God, this is giving her a headache. Two conflicting lives in one brain.

Scenic route it is. Kenzi puts on a smile and it's the perfect picture of a married couple on a romantic stroll! She ducks her head a little when she speaks, masking her words with the guise of staring up into Brock's eyes and resting her chin on his shoulder as they walk.

"So we're not really married. There's no green card. This part isn't real." But it's the part she wants to hold onto the most? Which is weird because ew, commitment. Ew marriage. Ew domestic bullshit! She'd been so scared of it before, so freaked at the prospect of trusting someone else so completely. Now? It's not so bad.

"I'm not sure how thorough they were," Rumlow replies easily, his expression betraying nothing of their discussion. He doesn't know how extensive the surveillance is here, but logic dictates they can't have as much coverage with microphones as they do cameras. He's already checked his clothes (in the blind spot he discovered back home) and Kenzi's. They're clean.

"Whatever program we went through to cement our backstories seems pretty rigorous, so it stands to reason they might've made things legit."

Rumlow expects the marriage to be annulled or something afterwards, but a paper trail is important for the sake of a mission, depending on how deep the cover goes. What he's still wondering is why they sent him. He's a combat specialist, and though all SHIELD agents are de facto spies, it's not his default role, at least not how he remembers it. So, maybe it's just his compatibility with Kenzi that got him here. Probably means they shouldn't be fucking, but really if they went the marriage route, they sort of asked for that.

"I think whatever 'accident' we went through is the real problem because I don't actually remember what the mission is."

"They?" Does he mean... the hospital? Or whoever is watching behind the cameras? It makes sense. Covering up whatever memory voodoo they did with a trauma, injury, whatever the accident was. She's still not sure if it's some kind of brain implant out of a sci-fi movie or... magic? Magic's not real. It might be? No. That's more of the weird memory shit surfacing, fake stuff about magical creatures and humans that can do weird things and might not actually be human. Aliens maybe? See, this is why it's hard to keep things straight!

Kenzi looks even more confused when Rumlow starts talking about programs and missions. It's hard to keep her expression neutral like his, her brows knit together and her lips form a pout that she can't easily mask. She covers it by wiping at her face with her hand and shaking her head to try and clear it.

"Nooooot following, babe. You lost me." The closest thing to missions she can remember are illegal operations. Theft, cons, auto part distribution. In...investigating? She does remember investigating. Remembers going undercover with a dark haired woman. Brown eyes-- or were they blue? "I can't sort this shit out. Mentally, I mean... it's an actual hot mess up there. Why would we be on a mission?"

Rumlow looks to Kenzi, expression practiced and impassive, in spite of her confusion. There are a few alternatives here, he thinks. Either she's playing dumb to preserve her cover (which could mean she's from a different organization), her memories really are still that faulty (from the accident or the cover conditioning), or she's not an agent at all. Rumlow doesn't want the believe the last one -- it makes the least amount of sense regarding their arrangement together and he knows she's clever, enough to know they're being monitored. Civilians just don't have that kind of situational awareness.

"Because we're agents," he says simply, voice still quiet. Of what, he won't say just yet. Best let her absorb one thing at a time, to keep her from emoting too much more than she already is. He tightens his arm around her, trying for reassuring.

"We'll walk it through. Figure out how to get around your brain blocks."

Or at least, he hopes they can. And without any overreactions. Rumlow figures if its anything like the bathroom incident, he can try and roll with it and play at it being some big news relevant to their lives here. He's just got to keep on his toes.

Agents? Like insurance agents? Or... the... secret kind? Because if it's that last one, she's gotta be the most amazingly skilled, super secretive agent that ever lived if even SHE didn't know about it. It's not even like she can rule it out! Not remembering something doesn't necessarily mean it's not real. At least, not here. She does remember working some shady jobs for her Russian fam back home. But those were just for a quick payout!

His arm does give off that reassuring vibe and she winds up circling both of her arms around his waist and squeezing him back as they walk. Maybe she could have forgotten. Maybe he's just mistaken, but there's really no way to tell for sure and no easy way to lay it all out with eyes and ears in unknown places. Anything could be the truth. She has NO idea who she really is right now.

Also shut up about the bathroom incident, SHE WAS SHOCKED!

"I kinda feel like we should just compare notes. You know, like, write out all the shit we remember as of right now and trade papers and see what matches up?" It's the best she can come up with. "I mean, what if I'm NOT actually allergic to peanuts and it's just been a cover this whole time and I've been depriving myself of peanut butter cups for literally no reason?"

"I don't think it would be wise to write where things can be seen," Rumlow replies, but he gets the sentiment. If her memories are having a harder time catching up, that's an easy way to see what's missing. Might even trigger a few into coming back. Hers or his, he'd be grateful for either.

It's a little awkward to walk like this, he notes, as Kenzi wraps around him and he slows, smiling down at her as if fond of her affections. He tips her face up and gives her a soft kiss. (He likes it, but they have to keep up pretenses.)

"Might be best to believe the peanut allergy until we find a doctor who'll actually answer questions instead of dodge them," he says, sweeping a hand through her hair.

"But we should be out of earshot here. If you wanna list things, go ahead." Might be best for her to start, since she's the one bereft of the most, so maybe he can work off of what she does know to build reasoning for his theory.

It's not awkward to walk like this, it's cute as fuck! Also cute as fuck is the kiss-- ... Which Kenzi immediately questions. Is it a fake kiss? Is the kiss literally just for keeping up appearances? Because she liked it. It felt super 'in the moment'. His hand in her hair calms some of her doubts, but there's still that nagging feeling in the back of her skull.

She hides it well, however. Better than some of her other reactions as of late. This is serious. If they ARE on some kind of mission, they need to focus and keep their heads above water. Even if it's just Rumlow that's the agent, she doesn't want to be a liability or blow his cover or any of that shit. Saying the wrong thing to someone could end up with him dead or them getting separated and neither of those options are okay with her.

"There's a lot, lately. Like I remember my childhood and shit that conflicts with the memories I have of summers with Bucky, but that still feels real. I remember leaving home real young. Like, reaaaaaal young. Living on the streets. Stealing. Working for another cousin, Dima. I lifted wallets, hustled pool, I can-- I can hot wire a car. Pick locks?" That's thief shit. It's not secret agent mission stuff. She doesn't have a cool laser pen like James Bond or anything!

"I was living with someone... in this house. Condemned crack shack. It was-- after that a lot of it stops making sense and I don't--" Know how sane I am. She doesn't say it out loud. She can't. He's already got Jefferson's instability to deal with. "It just doesn't work out right, the rest of it. Oh, also? Not a nail technician. High school dropout. So. You really know how to pick 'em."

Somehow Kenzi telling Rumlow her story has him feeling familiarity. He doesn't show it save a brief twitch of his brows, letting her finish before he adds his two cents. The last part sure doesn't sound like an agent, unless she's remembering a cover job, like this one. High school drop out isn't a red flag or anything, all kinds get hired for their practical skills rather than their educational ones.

He hums in thought, staring out at the treeline, scrubbing at the stubble on his cheeks. He's still missing huge gaps in his childhood, but he remembers a few things. The streets of New York, fights, picking up a gun for the first time. There's other stuff too, but it feels too off to be right. Things that go against SHIELD. Rumlow shakes his head.

"Stuff from your childhood might be real. Because the stuff with Bucky can't be," he says, knowing this is about to throw Kenzi for a loop. Hell, it still throws him. "Your cousin was in the military, right? That's how he knows me." Though Rumlow doesn't know if that's the truth -- the source of Bucky's enmity towards him is largely a mystery.

Great. Awesome. The only good part of her childhood isn't real. That's just FREAKING WONDERFUL! She figured as much, honestly. Literally too good to be true. Not recognizing Steve at first, despite apparently tagging along behind all three of them. It's crafted. Fictional. She laughs, humourless and a little spiteful at her own damn optimism. So much for having family she actually likes.

"Yeah. That's how I remember it. Him and Steve, and then he introduced us and..." The rest is fake history. They both know what happened after that. "What makes you so sure it can't be?"

If Rumlow's found the trick to knowing what's real and what's not, she needs to know. If he's just got info that fills in the gaps, she wants that, too. It's driving her crazy, all this conflicting information floating around in her head. Also this place, the people, all the lies and the blatantly obvious cover up procedure they have posted around the actual town? It's ridiculous. Seriously, it's bullshit. Makes her want to revolt.

Makes her want to start some shit.

"I'm sorry, Kenzi," Rumlow says. He wishes that she could have something nice to remember, having a distinct sensation that a rotten childhood sucks. Maybe it applies to him, but Rumlow can't be sure. He's just got to go with his gut. He strokes her hair again, reassured at least that his gut tells her that this affection he has for her feels real at least. That's why he thinks they must have something shared beyond this life here.

"James Buchanan Barnes is, or rather, was a member of an elite squad fighting Nazis back in World War II. Rogers... was their leader. He's kinda complicated." Understatement. "I work with him, when I'm not... here."

It's Bucky's apparent hatred of him that keeps Rumlow away from Steve, even if he knows the guy is around somewhere. If he goes with his theory that everyone's memories have been jacked with somehow, or are at least playing a cover, he doesn't want to risk either exposing Steve or antagonizing him somehow -- whatever he doesn't know, he'll let come to light with time.

"Anyway, Bucky was supposed to have died back during World War II. I honestly have no idea how he's around. But there's no way it isn't him. He's identical, goes by the same name, and unless there's some kind of... cloning or something even freakier than the surveillance going on here, it's got to be him."

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!?

Kenzi's jaw drops. She's really tanking the attempt to be subtle here. This is bullshit. This is way too unbelievable. This is like the shit in her head about sword-wielding dudes with severed heads and plunging the severed head into a fire. You know, things you can only dream up!

"Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Hold the fuck up. You're trying to tell me that Bucky, my Bucky, was in World War II? Fighting Nazis. And Steve was there, too, but then also works with you? Were you fighting Nazis? Because, like... I mean, I knew you were old, but that's insane!!" She can't process this. There is no way. Maybe Rumlow's brains are just as scrambled as the rest of them! Even the smartest, most cool, calm, collected dude she knows is batshit and they're all doomed!

"Brock, who even are you?" She has no idea anymore. And they're MARRIED!

Moving in close to obscure Kenzi's face from any lurking cameras, Rumlow's hand comes down to press at the small of her back. Keeps her close, reminds her of where they are. He hopes she can reel it in, despite the incredulity of his claim. He knows it's a big bomb to drop, but unless he starts tearing up the surveillance equipment in the house, this is the only place he can do it.

"No, I'm -- look. Remember when you told me about the 'joke,' on Bucky's cake? 100 years old? That's because he was born in 1917."

He's good with numbers, and he knows his SSR history. It's sort of ingrained in every agent when they join SHIELD, since they were its predecessors. Of course, that year doesn't add up with the current year for him, but he's not going into details, the point still stands. It's about the only 'proof' he really has anyway.

"You said you remembered Rogers when he was little, right? Skinny dude, totally looked like he could break if the wind blew too hard?" Rumlow knows this from the SSR too. As if this didn't already sound insane, it's about to get worse. "Reason he's so big now ain't puberty. He stuck himself into an experiment way back in the 40s to fight in the war. Long story short, he got himself frozen in a block of ice for 70 years and was recently thawed a few years back. That's when he joined up with my team in SHIELD."

Rumlow pauses, sliding his hands up Kenzi's arms, as if they're talking about something intimate rather than secrets they'd likely get arrested for.

"It's an international peacekeeping organization, I'm lead of the spec ops team within the group. Rogers is acting commander when he's needed."

"That joke was a joke!" How the fuck could he have been born in 1917? Even if all the memories of growing up with him were fake, he couldn't be 100 years old. There's no way. It's just not possible.

... Just like people turning into animals isn't possible. Just like vampires aren't real. Sirens don't wear stupid hats. Hot bartenders don't eat dudes' faces in elevators.

Frozen in a block of ice sounds an awful lot like some kind of fairy tale or weird plot device in an action movie. If Rumlow wasn't soothing her with his hand on her back or rubbing her arms, she'd probably be having some kind of mental breakdown on the ground trying to fit all this shit together and pick out anything with a shred of truth to it. It's not so much that it's jarring or shattering her entire world, because that's been fragmented since the accident. It's just that there's so much to process. So many conflicting scenarios and too much information and she doesn't know if she can rely on any of it.

She clings to the hem of Rumlow's shirt, trying to get her expression back to some sort of neutrality. She ends up staring at her hands, at his chest, anything but his face or the lens of a camera. She's pensive, at least. Not floored anymore.

"So you're not military. You're... the UN on steroids?" An agent. Like the kind that handle things before they get ugly. The ones you don't see in the news. Spy movie shit. And Steve's part of that? Where does Bucky fit in? Where does she fit in?

There really isn't more that Rumlow can say to convince her, not without finding some kind of photographic evidence. If she can't believe Bucky isn't her cousin, or that he's a World War II veteran, then he'll let that lie. He doesn't have an explanation on how he's alive now anyway. At least Rogers has an excuse.

It must be rough for Kenzi, Rumlow knows. Having so many solid truths just pulled out from beneath you. At least he remembers enough of his former life and that it's just extreme enough for him to accept stranger concepts, such as super soldier serums and being frozen in ice. Kenzi's got no such advantage though, and he's not about to get impatient with her because her brain's having a hard time wrapping around it. He keeps giving her physical comfort because that's about all he can do.

"Well, the UN does have military forces, but sorta. There's just a whole lot less red tape than them. And we deal with shit that's more intense than insurgents with AKs."

Which is about the gist of it, if he doesn't want to get into details like the Avengers Initiative or the attack on New York. Stick to a little bit at a time.

More intense? How do you get more intense than that? It's not that she doubts him, quite the opposite, actually. It makes more sense than him owning a boxing gym. He is way too badass for that. The Bucky and Steve shiz, well, she'll just have to grill them at some point. Feel it out. Bucky not being related is believable enough. Why should she get to keep anything good in her life? Fuck you, universe.

Even this... Her and Brock, it's fragile. Temporary. Held together by mutual affection but not much else. She doesn't want to lose him. She doesn't want this to just be a cover or a fluke, but it doesn't make sense any other way.

"There's... some other stuff." One more thing she has to tell him while she still can. Something she's not sure he's going to believe, but after hearing all that stuff about dudes frozen in ice for decades, he might take it pretty well. "I remember seeing-- being around and seeing and... fighting? People that could... do stuff. You know? Stuff they shouldn't be able to do."

How the fuck is she supposed to explain this and not sound insane?

Rumlow tilts his head, listening attentively to her. He recalls hearing something about enhanced people in the past, but there's nothing concrete in his memories to rely on. Maybe Kenzi can shed some light on it, because that's sure what it sounds like she's describing.

"Well, I was just telling you about a guy we know being frozen for 70 years, so shoot."

It's not like she can really surprise him that much. Rumlow likes to think of himself as pretty open-minded. Sure, there's a healthy dose of skepticism, but it's been more directed towards this town than anything else -- save Bucky. He's still a mystery.

"Okay, you asked for it." He's got a point, but this shit is a little more whacked out than ice cube people. "There's these two guys, and they're cops but also not cops. They have like. I don't know, magic? Powers? Not straight up comic book shit, but something close to it. The one guy turns into a wolf, but I think we're friends?"

Definitely friends. She's more sure of that when she thinks about it, focuses on it. She's been trying to block a lot of this shit out because thinking about it is acknowledging that it could be real and that's just impossible. Right?

"The other guy does stuff with his voice. Like sings... stuff... and it's painful. Or alluring." He's done it to her. She remembers that. Locked in a house with... with a spider? And a girl-- ... that brown eyed, blue eyed girl.

"... Bo." Her name is Bo. Kenzi's chest suddenly feels like it's going to burst or cave in, there's this crushing, painful feeling in her heart and it shakes her to her core. Tears silently stream down her face and she doesn't even notice until her cheeks feel wet.

"I forgot about Bo."

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