1964-11-08 - Hidin' Away
Summary: A quiet dinner at Harry's Hideaway
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
thea logan 

Logan invited Thea to Harry's for a quiet dinner, in a relatively cozy setting where he's comfortable enough to show up with his sleeves rolled up and not worry too much about anybody getting snooty with him. Plus, he knows his steak will be cooked the way he likes it and they won't bitch about his cigars.

When he sees Thea arrive, he comes around and pulls out the chair on the other side of the table, gesturing for her to have a seat, "Waited fer ya before I ordered," he says, "May've gotten a coupla beers in, but ain't nothin' I'm gonna be feelin' with my constitution. How you been, darlin'?"

Blonde hair is loose, and the dress and heels deep green and nothing too showy. She leans to kiss his cheek in that European fashion, smiling even as she winks at him. She will move to sit in the pulled out chair, murmuring a thank you with a mischievious expression. "Like I would lecture you about drinking. Me. Who brings you exotic liquors." She laughs, glancing around the place.

"I've been all right. Trying to settle into a new… position." There's another quick glance around. "Hoping this one will put me to more use than the Avengers." She knows speaking low.. well, Logan can still hear her. "What do you recommend?"

Logan nods, "It can be tough findin' the best use for yer talents. Still kinda workin' out my own role, even after all these years,' he says. He glances her up and down appreciatively before she settles in, every inch the man, his own simple flannel, undershirt and jeans dressed down but appropriate. It looks like he might've tried to comb his hair, with relatively limited success.

"Harry's menu's pretty straightforward. Steak, ribs, chicken, all good. Mashed taters got enough butter to swim in," he says. "Tell me 'bout the job."

"Carol sort of put my name in." Thea murmurs, hand up to push blonde curls behind her shoulder. She'd cleaned up for him, nice but not too nice. Logan wasn't the sort of guy she wore her evening gowns out with, and that was more than okay by her. Her hand reaches out to just touch his, a hint of a smile. "They do a good rare steak? If they can't do it rare, I'm not interested. And that's exactly how I like my potatoes. They have wine, or should I stick to coca-cola? "

"Goverment set up. British chick interviewed me." There's a glance of brown eyes to his. "Wanted to make sure I wasn't tangled up with a certain school, and I told her I had made no pledges of loyalty to Xavier."

Logan nods, "Wouldn't have it any other way. Harry knows his way around a piece o' meat an' not just cause I think he did a few years upstate," he says with a chuckle. "I ain't never tried the wine, but I think I saw a bottle with somethin' French on it once," he says.

"Chuck ain't never been the type to expect pledges anyhow. He earns his loyalty the ol' fashioned way," he says. "Just be careful gettin' too tied up with them government types. I'm on the salary for SHIELD, but under the table-like. The British gal's probably Peggy Carter, am I right? She an' I go way back," he says.

"I'll stick with the soda." Thea decides, smiling at him again. "Steak, rare, mashed potatoes swimming in butter. Sounds good to me." There's another wink, before she sighs. "Somehow, just SOMEHOW I figured you probably knew the group, if not the woman. I swear, Logan, you get around more than a fast handed politician."

Logan grins and shrugs, "I got the benefit o' a few extra years to make connections," he says. "An' yeah, I stick my nose where it don't belong plenty," he says.

"Spy outfits are complicated. In some ways, they're a bunch of bitchy little girls - constantly backstabbin', playin' politics, lookin' for leverage. But there's lotsa people in the service workin' to do the right thing and doin' it without gettin' any credit, mostly. Soldiers get medals and parades. Spies get buried an' denied," he says.

Thea rolls her eyes at the mention of a few extra years, even as she reaches out to touch his hand again. She couldn't say why she's doing it, exactly.

Then comes the eyebrow arch at the mention of 'bitchy little girls'. "I do not back stab, play politics, or have to look for leverage. I'll kill you to your face, tell you to kiss my… ahem. I don't need leverage when I speak several languages and can do what I do. The only question is.. do you think this outfit can actually put me to good use, and really let me do what I can do?"

Logan isn't about to complain about a pretty lady touching his hand. He may have his share of demons, but he's not so self-loathing as to sabotage that.

"SHIELD's the top spy outfit there is, nowadays. At least in the West. I'm sure they can find some damn good uses fer that talent of yours, although not all of 'em might be savory," he says. "But sometimes unsavory gets the job done."

Thea smirks at him, fingers toying with his. Maybe it's that.. energy of his, that only someone like her can see. After a day of helping sick, hurt, and dying.. it might be a bit like a moth to a flame situation.

That smirk edges into a grin. "That was more along the lines of what I meant. Carol pointed out to me that I could have.. an interesting career path.. if I got the right opportunities. And after some things going on well.. I don't want to be the white hat strictly anymore."

Logan nods, "Yeah, I hear that. Don't get me wrong, I like doin' good around the school, but I ain't exactly a schoolmarm," he says. "I'm always gonna get my hands bloody, one way or another. I'm just tryin' not to splash back too much their way," he says.

"I can see you workin' yer way up the ladder there. Yer smart enough, you got the power and yer used to the kind of maneuverin' they do. Long as you watch your back, you oughtta do just fine."

"You mean I grew up in a world of politics so I can be pretty and polished, and still turn around and be normal?" She smirks at him, just resting her hand on his. "You know I much prefer being able to just be who I am, in a place like this, with you, versus all the pretty dress up and going to some fancy fundraiser, right?" Her head tilts, just a little bit. "I'm not so sure how high Miss Carter will let me work up that ladder. She's.. hard to read. She's not sure about.. me."

Logan grins, "I ain't never gonna be sure why you wanna spend time wit' me, but that's awright, I ain't complainin' about it none. I'm the one who benefits, after all," he says, giving her a wink as the waitress takes their order promptly.

"Peggy's been through the wars, literally. She's earned her skepticism," he says. "Her trust ain't easy to earn. Once you earned it, though, ain't nobody more loyal or more dedicated. She's one of the good ones. That don't always make her easy to get along with, though, especially if she's yer boss. She gives every bit she's got an' expects the same o' others. Probably got it from Cap. He and she used to be close, once upon a moon," he says.

"Because I don't have to mind my manners." She teases, giving him a grin as fingers stroke over the back of his hand. "How is it you benefit, exactly?" She asks, smirking.

"It's not that. She's very upright, properly British. I.. for me, it was more how she said a certain word." She blinks. "Her and Cap? Huh." She shrugs, a touch surprised but not thinking on it much.

Logan laughs, "Hey, Harry's is a family place, I ain't gonna go into too much detail," he says. "Wouldn't wanna corrupt any innocent types," he says, although the other people don't seem exactly rapt on his conversation, few as there are tonight.

"What word is that?" he says. "Yeah, well, they were both plenty younger. Well, she was anyway. I guess he kinda got freeze dried or whatever, so it was probably practically yesterday to him. Must be kind of a mindfuck," he says.

Thea laughs, her head tipping back with amusement, fingers curling around the edge of his hand. "You're just going to corrupt me?" She winks at him. "I figured it was before he was.. thawed out and all that stuff." She will lean in to kiss his cheek. "Steve's..unusual, himself."

Logan leans into the kiss, then sits back again as the food arrives, "Think I'm gonna need some fuel," he says, beginning to dig into his food with relish.

"Cap's different than just about anybody I ever known," he says. "I dunno how a man gets that…pure. We were talkin' about corruption? Cap's only guy I ever met I'd say can't be corrupted. Just ain't in the man to do wrong," he says. "'bout as rare as it comes, really. Even more rare than a beautiful girl in a little dive bar," he winks.

Thea laughs, even as she sits back lets go of his hand. There's a long sniff of the hot steak and potatoes, and a throaty sound is made. "Food is good." She remarks.

Brown eyes glance up at Cap being pure. "He's a good man.. but I don't think there's any man out there that can't be corrupted. Even Rogers. Maybe I just see him from a different angle than you do." She shrugs. "Man like that might let the idea he can't be corrupted take him further than he should go." She blushes.

Logan finishes his steak in record time - well, for most people. For Logan, it's probably a pretty typical speed. He's not the type to linger over his food.

"Maybe," he says. "I can see how it could go to yer head. Ain't seen no sign of it, but I suppose everybody's human. Worth rememberin'." he says. "God knows I fucked up plenty in my life," he grins.

Thea works on her own steak, she's not exactly dawdling, and her mother would be horrified to see her swipe a bite of steak now and then through the potatoes or butter. She washes it down with soda, watching him. "Or someone like that thinking he's right, got the purest motives.. and well." She shrugs.

Logan nods, "I think it has to do with him knowing how lucky he got. Cap wasn't meant to be…Cap. He was a victim, his whole life, the kinda guy nobody took seriously. And then all that changed an' he became this…guy," he says. "More'n a guy, a whole damn flag," he laughs.

"He takes it seriously an' he tries to live up to it. Again, not sayin' he's an angel, but he's a better man than me, I can tell ya that much. Not that it's a huge compliment, I can be pretty rotten," he winks.

"Oh, I've heard the story. But you know that sort of thing is /why/ he's Cap, I think. And no, none of us are Angels. Not even Angel." There's a hint of a bitterness to her voice there. "But I don't really come hang out with you to talk about Cap."

Logan snorts, "Even Angel ain't no angel anymore, that's for sure. Kid's had a rough time of it, no doubt. Honest truth, he's kind of a dick, but I guess I can't blame him none," he says. "An' yeah, I know, darlin'. But a man's gotta pretend to be civilized, least a little bit, when he takes a lady out," he says.

"That's another man we don't need to talk about. I.. I can't relate to him anymore, but I feel responsible all at the same time and.." She shrugs, just a bit. "I'm sure we can talk about other things. You know, other than the uncorruptable that we'll never be, and the guy I used to date."

Logan nods, "I wish I had more to me," he says. "Most o' what I do is fish an' read an' listen to ol' records and carve wood. An' kill folks," he says. "Much as I try to pretend I ain't a killer, I ain't good for much else, t' the rest o' the world. If it weren't for Chuck an' Jeannie, I'd probably be a hermit, back up in Canada, scarin' folks who went too deep in the woods,' he says.

There's a strange look given his way. "More to you? How many wars have you been in? How many battles did you fight? How many have you saved?" She lifts her eyebrows. "You're more than fishing and woodcarving. You've got.. a lot to you. You're more than a hermit killer." There may be just a little bit of that Greek temper in her eyes.

Logan takes a long sip of his beer, "Maybe," he says. "Sometimes. You remember the bodies you leave behind more than the ones you save," he says. "They build up over the years. Weigh a man down," he says. "I didn't bring ya hear to get all morose an' sad either, though. You don't need my tales o' woe. Plenty got it worse than me, the dead most o' all," he says.

"Gotta do your livin' while ya can, after all. Ain't nobody gonna do it for ya," he says, signalling for the check. "My treat, yer on the government dime now, gotta save yer shekels."

"Don't give me some sort of lecture. Do I look morose or down to you? And you need to remember the ones you save as much as the ones you lose." Oh Logan, don't you know not to piss off the women who aren't scared of you? "I'm doing my living, Logan. I choose to let you be a part of it." There's a snort. "You do know better, don't you?" She won't argue with him paying, not if he really wants to.

Logan raises his eyebrows at the vehemence, "I was agreein' with ya, darlin'. Sometimes I get down on myself too much. I stay up late and drink Scotch and read Hemingway. Ernie's ain't never been much fer the human condition," he says. "Can almost drink me under the table, too."

"I didn't mean t'lecture. Just an old man runnin' his mouth, no harm meant."

"Hemingway is an asshole, when it comes to writing a decent woman in his stories." Her voice is flat and annoyed, and it's clear Thea is not a fan. "You could just call me, rather than reading and drinking too damn much."

Logan nods, "Yeah, he ain't exactly the sensitive sort," he says. "I still like his way with words, though. And I like drinkin' and readin'. But I like you, too," he says.

"Talking and drinking with me, at least, is less depressing than that nonsense." There may be a hand out to touch him. "Too much time in the dark isn't good for anyone, Logan."

Logan looks at the hand on his and says softly, "Man gets used to the dark after a while. Starts to think that's where he belongs," he says. "Whaddya say you an' me split this popsicle stand, darlin'?" he says, paying in cash with a generous tip. "I got better booze back at my place."

"Then maybe I need to come around with a flashlight more often." Thea counters, rising to brush down her dress."Lead the way." There's a smile.

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