ToS and Backwater Nexus. S.H.I.E.L.D. Base and the Black Dog. Sisters Reunited Part 1

[dens_extra_pups]

Tracks: *follows Denver through the door to her quarters, looking over his shoulder* Oh hurry, or those barbarians will have bought them all.

Denver: Ah'm 'urreh'n'. *digging through her footlocker for her wallet now* *really wants to get some of those nuka pickles this time*

Tracks: *turns back toward Denver, but then pauses as he notices a photo standing on her night table. Picks it up carefully and studies the faces of the two skinny little black-haired girls in the image* Denver? Who are these children?

Denver: Huh? *wallet in hand, looks to see what Tracks is... Oh* ... *quietly* Me 'n mah twin sistah, Elyria... Th't w's rahght b'f're Ely disappeahed. *will move to take the picture from you, Tracks*

Tracks: *gives her a look that is surprised and confused* You have a twin?

Denver: *as she moves to put the picture back on the night table, face down* 'Ad a twin. She 'n Ma were 'n a cah crash 'un day wh'n a truckah fell 'sleep behahnd th' wheel... Ma's arm nevah did 'eal rahght... We nevah found Ely.

Tracks: *handsome face crumples slightly, as though he's going to cry* I'm sorry.

Denver: *quietly* 'T w's a long tahm 'go... *squares shoulders* We sh'ld git goin' 'r all th' pickles'll be gone 'gain.

Tracks: *slowly, as he turns toward the door* Yes...

Denver: *doing her best to keep her sadness at old memories and hurts being brought back to light off of her face as she moves to usher Tracks out to the hallway* Th'nk we'll git t' see Bluestreak make moah funneh faces t'day? *yes, she's changing the subject, but darnit, Bluestreak pulls epic faces at meal times when she's trying new food!*

Tracks: *hesitantly* Er... If I get some of the pickles, you'll see me make funny faces.

Denver: *blink blink* Y'u make funneh faces? *surprised*

Tracks: Yeees. *cheeks darken slightly as he looks at the floor* I'm surprised Jazz hasn't told you about it.

Denver: Naw, 'e w's usualleh too buseh playin' wit' 'is food, 'r drownin' 't 'n sriracha.

Tracks: Ah. Still, with the amount of chatter that he usually puts out... *pauses and looks up as he and Denver reach the mess and are met by a large metal foot* Yes, Optimus?

Denver: *also looks up, saluting on reflex*

Optimus: *goes down into his floor-hugging routine* Tracks, Denver, will you go to the Backwater and run an errand for me? I need people who won't be distracted by the fighting tournament after-party.

Tracks: *sniff*

Denver: Yessir.

Tracks: You've no need of me being distracted by such hoodlumism, Optimus.

Optimus: Good. *offers his credit card* Please buy enough nuka pickles for everyone to have a portion.

Tracks: *surprised expression as he reaches for the card* Oh. Yes, sir.

Denver: *grin just starting to creep onto her face*

Optimus: *frowns slightly as he sees that grin, suspecting mischief* Denver?

Denver: We w're gonna trah 'n bah s'me 'f th' nuka pickles fr'm th' person who brought 'em 'n t'day.

Optimus: I bought them all and am holding them till there's enough for everyone.

Tracks: *soft snort of fond amusement*

Denver: *small nod, still smiling at the prospect of being able to have a nice treat*

Optimus: *rises up slightly and pushes a rowdy soldier back with one hand, then turns back to Denver and Tracks* You'd better go.

Denver: *another nod* Yessir. *salute*

Tracks: *attention diverted from smirking at the pickle demander* Yes, Optimus. *to Denver* Shall we go?

Denver: Yeah.

Tracks: *leads the way out of the mess and around a corner, then turns and gives her an expectant look as he braces himself*

Denver: *reaches for his hand, is already fishing the smartphone-styled PINpoint out of her pocket*

Tracks: *looks down so she can't see him biting his lip as she takes his hand*

Denver: *will bring Tracks to the Backwater Nexus*

Tracks: *head up as someone bellows gleefully at the moment of their arrival* ...That sounded like an Ordnance.

Denver: *snorts* Le's go git th' pickles 'n git back.

Tracks: What is that atrocious noise?

Denver: *looking around and trying to pinpoint the source of the noise* Dunno... Almost sounds lahk music.

Tracks: *walks out from under the big bench to go look through the door. Slams into a slender form who is just darting out* *grabs the person by the arm* Watch where you're going!

person: *wide blue eyes in a baby face show terror as they gaze at Tracks. The person is a beautiful young man with strawberry blond locks and a white linen kilt* Master!

Denver: *soothingly, as she moves to keep things from turning into a situation* Easeh, we c'me 'n peace.

young man: *squeaks and stares at her, shivering with confusion* You... changed clothes? Wait... your hair's long. *face crumples with renewed terror*

Tracks: What are you babbling about, you...?

Denver: ... *confused and concerned* Ah've got no ahdeah wh't y'u're talkin' 'bout...

Tracks: Oh. He must know one of your alternates, Denver. I...

female voice: *hard and stern* That's MINE. Let go of him.

Tracks: *looks, and then hurriedly averts his eyes*

Denver: *startles and looks to the source of the voice* Bhuh?

woman: *is the spitting image of Denver, save the short-cropped hair and the metal bikini that adorns her tanned, muscular, and scarred body* *eyes narrow* Let go of my slave.

Denver: ... *doesn't realize her expression is mirroring the woman's now* Who th' *bleep* 're y'u?

young man: *darts to hide behind the woman as Tracks drops his arm*

woman: *accent unidentifiable, and beneath the translator, some of her words don't seem to be English* The name's Denver MacKenzie. *gently shoulders the young man's hand away* Stay back, Lance.

Denver: *so much frown and tensing. Doesn't realize she's triggered her PINpoint's scan mode*

woman: *startles as the little device beeps, but doesn't take her eyes away from Tracks and Denver*

Denver: *also startles and looks to the PINpoint* ... Th' *beep*?

Tracks: *still watching the other woman* What is it, Denver?

Denver: ... Th'se're th' coordinates f'r our realiteh. *so confused*

Tracks: That's not possible, you're... *gasp as his eyes widen* Ely!

Denver: ... *eyes widen* *to the woman* D' y'u 'ave a mahk 'n th' back 'f y'ur rahght leg?

woman: *eyes narrow a little more* What if I do?

Denver: *deep, shaky breath* 'T looks lahk a bird, rahght? *moving to unzip the left leg of her pants at the knee*

woman: A bird? *scowls slightly as she watches the unzipping*

Denver: Kahnda looks lahk a duck? *will remove the pants leg once it's fully unzipped, then she'll turn and straighten her leg, revealing a birthmark on the back of her knee... that looks like a duck*

Lance: It's on the wrong side.

woman: *scowling more deeply now. Looks like she's thinking*

Denver: *quietly* Y'ur's 's th' same, 'sn't 't? *looking over her shoulder now*

Lance: It looks just like that, only it's here. *points but doesn't touch his master*

Tracks: *nobody saw him wipe his eyes!*

Denver: *quietly* Y'ur name ain't Denver Annette MacKenzie... *quieter* 'T's Elyria Swansea MacKenzie.

woman: *deep scowl* The *beep* are you talking about?

Denver: Ah'm y'ur twin sistah... Ah w's born a minute 'head'a y'u, 'n we w're bot' named f'r Denver, Colorado... Y'u vanished wh'n we w're fahve yeah's ol', wh'n th' cah y'u 'n Ma w're 'n got crashed int'. *nearly in tears by this point*

woman: *scowl deepens even further as the thinking expression returns* *absently pulls Lance close and rests her cheek against him as she visibly searches her memory*

Denver: We used t' gang up 'n Dallas, 'n put tadpoles 'n 'is 'aiuh f'r stealin' our dolls.

woman: *arm around Lance tightens slightly* I don't remember anythin' like that.

Denver: Y'u don' remembah sitt'n 'n a biggah kid, wit' red 'aiuh? 'R visitin' Gran'Ma Hattie?

woman: *shakes her head, and then turns it to show a bare scar cutting through her short hair* All I remember is a face in a mirror 'n the name "Denver".

Tracks: *quietly* It wasn't in a mirror.

woman: *scowls at him*

Denver: *soft sound when she sees the scar* We looked f'r y'u f'r ages... Y'u weren't 'n th' cah wit' Ma, but y'ur seatbelt w'sn't broke....

woman: *scowl turns to Denver* What's wrong with your eyes? Is something living in you? *ready to push Lance behind her and protect him*

Denver: Mah ahs? *confused* *and a bit spooked now*

Tracks: *looks at her* *softly* It's alright. She's not possessed. That's only the side effect of a medical treatment that saved her life.

woman: *hand to her arm as the scowl becomes a frown*

Denver: *doesn't realize that she's trembling slightly*

woman: So... that memory is you?

Denver: *nods. Wants to hug you so badly, Elyria, but she's not sure that wouldn't end badly*

woman: ...You're Denver.

Lance: But you made that name famous, Master.

Denver: *quietly* Ah 'm. Ah'm Denver Annette MacKenzie. 'N y'u're Elyria Swansea MacKenzie. We 'ad a youngah brothah...

Elyria: ...I don't remember that name.

Denver: *still quiet* 'F y'u 'it y'r 'ead, th'n Ah ain't surprahsed.

Elyria: *absent hand to the scar on her head* *then looks up* "Had" a younger brother?

Denver: *small nod* *quietly* 'E dahed 'n th' battle f'r Chicago.

Elyria: *face goes slightly blank, but her voice is steady* He was a soldier?

Denver: 'E w's Aiuh Force... Ah w's active duteh Marine, 'til Ah caught shrapnel 'n mah face 'n all down mah bodeh, durin' th't same battle...

Tracks: *brows lift with surprise* Is that why your hair was long in front?

Denver: *small nod* Yeah... T' keep fr'm makin' people uncomfortable wh'n th'y looked 't me.

Elyria: *watches the exchange, and then catches her sister's gaze* *nods at Tracks* Yours?

Denver: *blink* Mah... *confused*

Lance: You know. For *mrrph!*

Elyria: *hand over his mouth* Husband?

Denver: *blink!* Oh! Naw... *bit of a blush going on now* We's friends...

Tracks: *face is redder than Denver's, but he's turned it away to try and hide it*

Elyria: *slight frown as her eyes flick between them*

Lance: *pulls hand down* I'm hers. Our baby will show soon.

Elyria: *hand back over the mouth*

Denver: *blink* Y'u're gonna be a mama? *bit of a grin starting*

Elyria: *as Lance tries to nod* Yeah. I came here so the baby'd be safe.

Denver: Y'all sh'ld c'me back wit' Tracks 'n me... We's got a doctor...

Elyria: You have enough room? *hand away from Lance's mouth and then returning with a smack before she wipes it on him*

Lance: *plainly regrets nothing*

Denver: We's got moah th'n 'nough room.

Tracks: You'll be very welcome.

Elyria: *looks at him* You live with her?

Denver: 'E lives jes' down th' 'all fr'm mah quarters.

Elyria: *eyes back to sister* Quarters?

Denver: We live 'n work fr'm a government faciliteh. We's wit' S.H.I.E.L.D.

Tracks: *as he sees Denver's twin working this over in her mind* Special forces soldiers.

Elyria: *brow clears slightly before she frowns at him*

Denver: We fahght t' protect innocent people.

Lance: ...But we're supposed to be going somewhere safe for our baby.

Denver: Th're're civvehs liv'n 'n base.

Tracks: The base is safe. *startles and puts a hand to his head* Oh, of course, Optimus.

Elyria: *dots at him*

Denver: *attention going to Tracks* ... We f'rget s'emth'n?

Tracks: The pickles. *turns to go inside* I'll be right back.

Denver: ... *startled realization* Oh! Th' cahd! *will offer it to Tracks*

Tracks: *pauses to take it* Right. Thanks. *jogs into the bar*

Denver: *sigh* Cain't believe we f'rgot 'bout gettin' pickles.

Lance: You came here to buy pickles? *expression shows his opinion of pickles*

Denver: Nuka pickles. Th'y's realleh popular back 'ome.

Elyria: Those are good. *turns and looks inside* I didn't realize they had them here.

Lance: *inadvertent :p*

Denver: Y'u c'n get jes' 'bout anehth'n' 'n th' Black Dog. *small grin* 'Cludin' slimy keeny.

Elyria: *nose wrinkles just slightly* What's that?

Lance: *looks like he doesn't want to know*

Denver: *so much grin* Pickles.

Elyria: Why's it called slimy?

Denver: 'Cause 't 's.

Elyria: *again the wrinkle* Slimy pickles?

Denver: Lahk chia seeds.

Elyria: *doesn't know that name, but the translation field just told her something she does recognize* That ain't bad.

Lance: Xp

Elyria: *looks at him* At least it's not gasfish.

Lance: *runs away down the steps and winds up half buried in D'Coda's hedge*

Elyria: *turns back to her sister*

Denver: ... Gasfish?

Elyria: They put it in a barrel and then ship it inland while it ferments. If the lid's not on right it'll blow off.

Denver: ... Th't sounds lahk s'meth'n' back 'ome.

Elyria: *slight smirk* Some worlds I've been, they bury the oily fish on the beach, and then come dig them up later.

Denver: ... Th't sounds worse th'n lutfisk.

Elyria: That one actually doesn't taste that bad. The salmon layered in the crock with cabbage is best, though.

Denver: ... Th't sounds good.

Elyria: *looks into the bar again* I wonder if they've got it here.

Denver: Th'y maght.

Elyria: I've got gold. *hesitant glance* Want to see?

Denver: Le's go. *grin* *pause* Sh'ld we grab Lance first?

Elyria: He'll stop puking when he realizes no one cares.

Denver: *snerk* Le's go, th'n.

((Written with random_xtras))

Continued here