(no subject)

[jink]

Morning, ladies, gentlemen, those who aren't.

[In slacks and a plain shirt, Samantha is Ms. Wilson today, having foregone the goggles and wings that characterize her alter-ego, the Falcon, which is a name nobody besides herself (and occasionally Rogers, to humor her) (Romanoff also, for a different take on humor) actually makes use of. She props her elbows on the podium and flashes a smile.]

This question's partly professional. I work at the VA counseling center, so booze and weird spycraft is off-limits.

What makes self-disclosure easier for you? Of personal problems, especially?

Comments

[mordantwit]

Veteran Affairs? [Charles is immediately intrigued, and quietly appreciative.] In my experience, the first thing a solider must accept is that there's no shame in needing help. [Aid on the battlefield is one thing; camaraderie is welcomed, necessary. You watch each others' back, you tend to each others' wounds.

Emotional damage, that's another thing entirely. It's gotten better, in the decades since he fought, but not by enough. Not nearly.]

[jink]

That's right, [Sam confirms.] Veteran's Affairs. Are you speaking of your own experience, sir?

[A beat.

She isn't sure exactly why she sirred him. Does being old and British and ex-mil automatically make you a former officer? As stereotypes go, it could probably be worse.]