Poppies

Colin James: So how did you meet Emma? What did you think of her? When did you fall in love with her?

Steve Rogers: In the jungle, where she made my shield, that she was prettier and tougher than I was expecting, and that last is a little hard to pin down. (pause.) Can this be off the record?

CJ: Sure. It'll give me insight, but I won't quote you here.

SR: Thanks. She was interesting to begin with, then pretty amazing, then captivating. It was just a nudge from that to realizing that I loved her. I've never felt more inadequate.

CJ: Wait. Why would you feel inadequate? You're Captain freaking America.

SR: That. Captain America is a suit with padded shoulders. Steve Rogers is a nobody from Brooklyn who finally found a way to serve. Emma Harrington is skilled and accomplished and beautiful and charismatic and tougher than I'll ever be. She's had to be. She hasn't always fared too well with me or the Avengers.

(Silence spools out on the recording.)

CJ: I hate to break it to you, but your shoulders are pretty big. It's not all the suit.

SR: (snorts a laugh)

CJ: So tell me what happened.

Steve checked the GPS monitor on his phone and sighed. It felt like he'd been pushing through the jungle for half his life already, and frankly, he was too much of a city boy to really like all the nature. He was sick of the humidity, the bugs, the afternoon rains, the dirt, the snakes... He was grateful for the smartphone, though. T'Challa had promised him that the signal was untraceable, and he trusted the king enough to leave Bucky with him, so accepting his word about the phone was easy.

Seeing Bucky go into cryo had hurt, even if it was Bucky's choice this time. He couldn't argue with his reasons and the solution was very sensible, but it just about broke his heart. To see Bucky so diminished was... difficult. Steve had always looked up to him. He was taller, stronger, popular with both boys and girls, athletically gifted, and Steve probably could have been snapped like a twig if the wind was strong enough. Then when he'd found out that he hadn't died in the fall from the train, Bucky was still strong and skilled and the best at what he did. There was the problem that he was kind of crazy, homicidal, and a cyborg (that was the right word, right? Modern vocabulary was a bitch.) But he'd also still been Bucky, deep down inside, and Bucky'd saved his life--again--when he pulled Steve out of the Potomac. And then to finally have found him again, only to lose him again because of Tony. Damn Tony, sometimes, Steve though moodily as he tripped over a tree root. He wouldn't see reason, not about Bucky, not about the Accords, it was just all about him. His remorse, his fears, his hurt. Well, Steve was hurting too. Been hurting most of his life, but always trying to be the bigger man, to overlook and forgive the kids who made his life a living hell when he was a kid, the women who saw his scrawny exterior and not the dreams and ambitions inside, everybody who was condescending or overlooked him, the other guys his age who saw him as a drag and unsophisticated, at least as much as they understood the word. And he supposed he was. The only place he'd really felt at home was in art school and with Bucky.

The exterior had changed quite a lot as a result of his desperation to do his part for the war. He'd agreed to trial a new procedure. Try to become a "super soldier." He'd gone in as that scrawny kid and emerged a whole different man. The scientists had been awed, and pretty Peggy Carter hadn't been able to resist touching him. Everybody had wanted to touch him then, having gained almost a foot in height as well as an absurd amount of muscle. He had to admit, to himself, that it had been flattering to be admired, and having an outside that matched the strength of his desire to make a difference had felt like a vindication. For about five minutes, until he learned he could be poked and prodded in New Mexico in a highly secured lab or be a bond salesman. He was still underestimated.

Then, finally, a chance to show what he could do. And what he could do was pretty amazing, frankly. He'd rescued the 107th from slave labor singlehanded and saved Bucky from experimentation. Not exactly a damsel in distress, but more important, on a personal level, to be able to finally pay him back, just a little, for his friendship and kindness. It had been because he wanted to protect the men who followed him that he worked hard to hone skills and leadership abilities he'd never known he had. Never had anybody to lead, anyway. After Bucky's loss, he'd just kind of phoned in the rest of the war. He'd been engaged and paid attention to the details, because he still had men who depended on him, but his heart had gone out of the fight. He could have ditched the Valkyrie, jumped out, been picked up, seen the end of the war and maybe had a future with Peggy. But now, older and wiser, he knew he'd taken the easy way out. Except that it hadn't worked, and he'd woken up in a strange new world. Maybe he could have understood what he was getting into when he woke up in a simulation of the New York he'd left, only to find out that it was a lie. Coming to grips with a new century, everything he'd missed, was harder than he could have imagined. The language had shifted, technology had advanced at a rate he'd not thought was possible, the culture was, frankly, weird and unseemly, a lot. Newspapers were an endangered species, fashions were ridiculous--the dichotomy between skinny jeans on women and the trousers bagging around young men's knees was baffling, and what the hell was a hipster?--and sex was just everywhere. For a reticent virgin who'd grown up in a much more repressed time, it was uncomfortable.

'Come join the Avengers!' Nick Fury had proposed, and he'd done it because he didn't know what else he could do. He'd thought that he was on the same side with his new team. But the more he learned, the murkier it had all felt, until he'd found that HYDRA had essentially been using SHIELD as, well, a shield. Fury had imposed an order on the Avengers, even if it was manipulative as hell, and once he'd faded into the shadows, it was just the Avengers, and the faultlines started to show early on. Tony was even more brilliant than his father and was willing to bankroll the operation, but he was insecure and could be a two-year old brat when thwarted. Howard had had his flaws, but he'd known the value of teamwork. Too bad he'd ignored his offspring and not taught him those skills.

And Tony... Steve shook his head and paused for a drink of warm water. Yuck. Another thing to hate about the jungle. They'd formed a friendship, but Tony's personal instabilities created stress, partly because it wasn't Steve's nature to be changeable or volatile. He was himself, with his core values that he just wasn't willing to compromise. Tony was a butterfly in a lot of ways; he'd not had a purpose until the Avengers, but once he'd found his purpose, he clung to it with both hands and a lot of technology. But for all his very real skills, he was immature in many ways, having grown up with almost limitless resources and inadequate, hands-off parenting. So once again, Steve had been the mature, thoughtful one. And he'd tried hard, sublimating his desires and ambitions for the good of the team. But Tony had impulsively taken the opportunity to create Ultron, and what a disaster that had been. Their very own corps of jack-booted thugs out to exterminate at least a big chunk of humanity, if not all of it. And another op that ended up having important consequences. Yes, people had been killed, and he regretted each and every soul. But by capturing the bioweapon, they'd managed to save a lot more. People never looked for offsetting good anymore, he brooded. They focused on the bad, politicians using them for their own ends. And he wasn't trying to avoid responsibility for his mistakes, but he did expect a fair and balanced review of their actions. Which they never got. When the reckoning had come, Tony'd been more eager than a puppy to roll over and show his belly. He wasn't seeing even forest or trees, just some undefined threat, like the Ents tearing down Eisengard. And he'd happily been ok with turning everybody, including Wanda, who was just a kid, over to the government. And not even the US government, which was a lot less trustworthy than he'd thought, but the UN. The UN was a great idea, but in practice, it had its share of flaws. And fundamentally, he was an American. He could put up with orders from generals or from the security apparatus as long as it was in the best interest of his country. But the US was part of the UN, not the sole deciding voice. And US officials, who should have been acting responsibly on behalf of US citizens, had tried to have Bucky killed in Romania. No trial, just execution by the police of a foreign country. They wouldn't even let him have a lawyer when he'd been captured. The rule of law was breaking down. It hadn't been that hard to turn away from Tony in Siberia, all in all. Stark'd just kept pushing, not willing to bend, to consider anybody else's feelings or perspective, and Steve's patience had finally snapped; he'd taken out all his frustrations on Tony. He'd said once he didn't trust anybody without a dark side. Well, he'd seen more of Steve's that day than he thought possible. And the thing with the shield had been a cheap shot. Or a last-ditch effort to manipulate him again. And he'd just been done.

Well, he'd done the best he could for Bucky, he'd broken his teammates out of that godforsaken high-security prison in the ocean--and somebody was going to answer, sooner or later, for Wanda's treatment. She'd been drugged, put in a shock collar and a straightjacket. That was not ok. For the first time in his life, he was free. He'd mostly forgiven Tony and extended an olive branch; it remained to be seen whether he'd take it. So now he was wandering the world like a nomad, trying to find a purpose or peace of mind. But goddamn it, he felt naked without his shield, and although it was a pretty big risk, he wanted another one. He'd heard about a mechanic somewhere in the middle of the jungle who could do just about anything. He remembered that Howard had made his shield on a lathe, and felt confident that a competent metalworker could do the same. It wouldn't be vibranium, but he could work with steel, too. The problem was with payment. As soon as he accessed his bank account, the authorities would know where he was.

He slapped at a bug. Hopefully this mechanic would be easy to work with and he could maybe barter for the shield, or give an IOU if trust could be established. Then he could get out of this moist hell hole and go someplace drier, with a more reasonable climate. He frowned and halted. He could hear music. What's more, it was familiar music. He hadn't heard the Andrews Sisters in ages. Literally. They were on his to-purchase list, but he'd been trying to get up to date on music before revisiting all of his old favorites. And, too, he couldn't exactly carry records with him on the lam from justice. He followed the sound of the music, supplemented with odd clanging noises, and came to a clearing. "Hello? Anybody here?" he shouted.

Then something tightened around his ankles and he was jerked skyward. He didn't struggle, wanting to establish from the beginning that he wasn't a threat. And waited. He cleared his throat. "I don't suppose you could let me down? I'm not here to cause trouble." There's a pause, and he was lowered gently. He did a handspring when he was released and ended on his feet, looking around alertly. The only person he saw was a woman, shorter than he was, dressed in a tank top and loose trousers that tied at the waist. A shock of long silver hair was tied back in a pony tail. She looked both lovely and formidable, her tank top showing well-developed muscles in her shoulders and arms. She was a little sweaty, which looked good on her and caused the fabric of her top to cling gently to a defined abdomen and small but assertive breasts. Quickwitted, too; she recognized him without making it obvious, and agreed to barter terms immediately. And kind. She offered him a place to stay and protected him from her neighbors' notice.

Her process was hugely different from Howard's, he learned quickly. He felt like he'd earned something important when she let down her guard enough to tell him what had happened, and he immediately understood her, somebody else who'd tangled with Tony Stark and suffered the consequences. He felt a kinship with her based on that, and wanted to pound on Stark again, just because. She didn't ask for his pity or condemnation, or anything, actually, even understanding. It seemed like she was relieved just to be able to tell her story to someone who wouldn't judge her. She only gave him the broad outlines and he suspected that the real core of how she felt, why she felt the need to isolate herself, the true cost of the damage was kept inside, safe from comment or advice. He understood why she'd hole up in an isolated place to recover. Unlike him, she hadn't volunteered for experimentation. He felt a little envious. The changes she'd gotten from her chemical treatment were a lot more useful than his. He was basically a strongman who healed fast. She could make things and fix things, limited only by her knowledge and imagination, which seemed pretty vast compared to his. Her competence, the way she was so obviously at home in her skin was sexy, but he was too intimidated by her to do anything about it, plus there was that little thing about being an international fugitive and he didn't want any harm to come to her as a result of this.

He wished he knew where Nat was. She'd laugh, but she'd give him good advice about how maybe to get her attention as something more than a scruffy refugee.

He also respected her abilities; she managed to keep him fed and cared for while eluding the notice of her neighbors and while crafting something that was beyond his understanding. She never made him feel stupid, though, or like a charity case, although he was. His streak of bad luck followed him, though, and suspicion for harboring him fell on her. She had to abandon her home when her neighbors came for a fight. He'd followed her, just to make sure she wasn't harmed, he told himself. She said she wanted to go to Asia, start over. Dear god, the jungles in Asia would be even worse. He counteroffered with Wakanda. T'Challa would, he knew, be delighted to employ her, she'd be safe, it was incredibly civilized there, infrastructure, the works. And he could visit there, keeping an eye on both her and Bucky. He'd managed to convince her, so once she got them down the river safely, they could find a ship and go from there. But he'd been overconfident, wanting to demonstrate competency somehow, and he didn't like to think about what might have happened if Thor hadn't saved his ass.

Asgard had been nicer than he'd anticipated, and he'd thought that maybe he could spend some time with her in this less-stressful situation, but Thor needed his help. The problems he was encountering keeping peace in the Nine Realms were all-consuming, and Steve had done his best to help his teammate. He'd liked the new armor he'd been given, the people were polite, and he could rest easy knowing that Emma was being taken care of. So he'd focused his attentions on the battles and the planning. There were a couple of parties that the Asgardians seemed to think were necessary for relaxation, and the women had been very attentive. He'd been content, until one night when he'd seen her in the dining hall. She stood out, being so small and dainty compared to the Asgardians, shabby in the clothes she'd brought from Earth. Hadn't anybody equipped her? He suddenly felt absurd in the armor and cape that had been fitted to him. And why did she have a guard watching her? He knew with a cursory glance that he was watching her, not providing protection for her. He'd gone up to her and seen immediately that she was quite unhappy; she asked him to speak to Thor about returning her to Earth. The thinly veiled pleading in her voice bothered him, and after realizing that Thor had forgotten about her, he promised to see what he could do. He didn't really want her to leave, he still had hope he could carve out time to spend with her. But when he talked to Thor, he realized that the work was just ramping up, and yes, Thor had completely forgotten about her. He was completely dismissive about her and hadn't bothered to even learn her name. Heimdall joined him in persuading Thor, who didn't want to deal with anything else right then, and he had the feeling that she'd done some work for Heimdall, but he didn't seem altogether clear on her name either, which pissed him off. Heimdall smoothly manipulated his king into getting him to agree to send her away and not return. Thor agreed irritably, and it was set. The next morning he went to the observatory to say goodbye, but he arrived too late. Heimdall had turned off the Bifrost, and Steve slumped. Heimdall looked into him and told him that she had fixed the Bifrost and it was better that she was gone; she hadn't been allowed to go anywhere or given other work. Steve swore, heartfelt. Heimdall had seemed embarrassed by the quality of the hospitality and tried to conceal an attraction to her, which made him feel better. He wasn't the only jackass. Heimdall did say he'd given her a task, which she could do or not, and that he'd given her some items for her journey as well as a source of funds. He had to be content with that.

After things had settled down in the Nine Realms and Odin had revived, Thor wanted to reconcile the Avengers and had shown up in his chambers one morning with Steve's normal clothes. He had Heimdall put them down close to where she was, feeling that she owed him for the hospitality of Asgard. Steve didn't have time to argue. Then he found her in another mess, what with echoes from the past and current interest in the super soldier serum. She'd agreed to help, he suspected, so she could get rid of them faster, but that had also ended badly in her deportation. Things had worked out legally for him and the other outlaws from the Accords, and they were all allowed back into the States. He was suspicious when Tony tracked her to Seattle, but it was a lucky accident. They were going bicoastal, and that meant that maybe he could see her when he was on the West Coast. He didn't plan on the others wanting to keep an eye on her and he wasn't in favor of getting her to join them in any capacity. They were a mess, and he didn't want her in the middle of it. Plus, the way that Tony was acting about her made him very nervous. And it blew up at what should have been a nice lunch. Their history was more extensive than he'd realized, and a lot more horrifying.

Colin James: So what do you think about Emma Harrington?

Tony Stark (slurring his words some) Gorgeous woman. Decent brain.

CJ: Did you ever date her?

TS: Not for lack of trying. We could have done amazing things together, but she's always seen through me to my hollow core.

CJ: How do you feel about her?

TS: Love her. Always have. Tried to impress her, but blew it. Being an asshole, I took it out on her. I'm lucky she even talks to me, the times I've fucked her over. Then Cap swept her off her feet. Lucky bastard. He's fucked her over too, but somehow she keeps going back to him. Don't know why. He doesn't deserve her either. (Silence, broken by a small snore.)

CJ: Shit. I can't use any of that. He's not going to remember this in the morning.

But she'd ended up joining, what with a few suspicious events, and things had gone pretty well until Bucky came out of cryo and Steve wanted to bring him on board. Stark couldn't get past how the Winter Soldier had killed his parents. Emma took the news of Howard Stark's assassination badly, but with typical thoroughness researched brainwashing and other related psychological issues, and ended up not just agreeing he could come, but proposed a compromise and funded his psychiatric care and recovery. And she'd made Bucky's replacement arm.

Colin James: What were your first impressions of Emma Harrington?

"Bucky" Barnes: She was a ray of sunlight. Her eyes smiled when she met me. She was so eager to show me what she made, and I was amazed at what she created. And she did this funny little dance after the arm worked like it was supposed to. I didn't know what to make of her, actually. And she was polite and respectful, which I couldn't really wrap my head around. Didn't she know what I'd done? And she had this great house that she was letting me live in, found a psychiatrist who would treat me, gave me money for therapy and everything. Never asked for even a thank you. I can't ever repay her.

CJ: Ever consider dating her?

BB: Off the record?

CJ: Sure.

BB: Yeah. She's one of only a few people who don't think I'm a psycho. She's amazing and lovely. But I could tell that Steve really liked her, and I owe him too much. She's too good for me, anyway. She deserves better.

Then there was the trip to the Yucatan to collect Night Terror. What a fuckup that was. With the storm and everything, nothing worked the way it should, then everything went to hell on the actual op. Steve had triggered the landslide that buried him because he wasn't being careful enough, and everybody had had to divert from their own activities to help him. It had been their undoing; the hillside had been mined with bioagents to take them out. Emma had found him and realized when they got back that he was getting sicker. The information she collected like a hoarder had provided his salvation in the very strange form of Dr Strange and his weirdo cloak. Steve remembered waking up, panicked, not understanding where he was or what was happening to him, only to see her in a space suit, soothing him. She looked tired, and the doctors took her to task when they finally showed up. She left. He didn't want her to go he wanted her to stay, to know she was close, caring about him. But he got better fast once his healing ability was able to get on top of it, and he heard about what she'd done for him, making her contributions, bringing in Bucky, seeing to everybody else. She'd also broken a lot of rules, bringing the wrath of the doctors down on her, which he'd thought was unfair. And then he'd felt threatened, because she'd shown her impressive leadership skills.

Steve Rogers: I can be such an ass.

Colin James: (laughs)

She was tired and run ragged at the meeting where they discussed the mission. Everybody had made mistakes, and had sought to deflect attention by pointing out somebody else's mistakes. It turned into a piling on for what she'd done, which wasn't actually bad especially in comparison to others' mistakes, and she'd snapped and quit. That night they bickered among themselves; Tony was the one who'd come up with the plan to get her working again, and she'd had everybody over for Christmas. She'd been so stubborn, refusing to rejoin the Avengers, even though everybody wanted her to. Steve had taken her insistence that she wasn't a hero personally. She'd proved to everybody that she was when they'd been attacked at the visitor's center. He and she had been on the outs due to his temper tantrum when she wouldn't come back, but she still put herself in between him and the bullets. Her rebirth as Paladin.

Steve Rogers: I liked designing her costumes. The ones that Costuming came up with pissed her off because they were always trying to push her into a mold. Be a bosomy superheroine with a scanty costume. I always tried to show her that she was beautiful and desirable in other ways, highlighting her other excellent qualities. Her costumes for Comic Con were kind of a love letter to her. They showed off her beautiful shoulders and arms, her slender figure, the graceful column of her throat. She looked ethereal. I was always glad that Promotions had assigned her blue for her official color. I liked having that in common with her.

Colin James: Those costumes are legendary now. If I ask fans what their most vivid image of the Avengers is, about half the time they'll say seeing pictures of that Hall H appearance with you guys and Joss Whedon. It totally blew away your fan base.

SR: What about the other half?

CJ: Three of five will say the Chitauri invasion, and the last two will be either a personal memory of an encounter with an Avenger or they'll mention that photoshoot in Versailles. Specifically, the picture of that kiss. But for sheer impact, you can't beat Comic Con. Do you still have the sketches you made?

SR: Oh, yeah. I've lost count of how many sketchbooks I've filled up. Emma is my muse.

CJ: I'd like to see them.

SR: (slightly panicking) Uh... I couldn't let you just go through them. I could show you a few drawings, though.

CJ: Have you drawn her like you did your French girls?

SR: (primly) I don't get that reference.

CJ: (laughs harder) So tell me about the kiss.

SR: Some fans were pursuing me, and I ran into Emma by accident. She was kind of laughing at me, so I just acted on impulse. It was amazing. Her hair is so soft. The kiss was just electric. I could have kissed her forever. And then I didn't quite know what to do next. I mean, I know what I WANTED to do next, but we were in public. Then afterward, Promotions was making a fuss, and she was so irritated that I backed off. Then after the photoshoot in France, I went to her house and told her how I felt.

CJ: What did you think about France?

SR: It's a lot nicer now that the Germans aren't occupying it. It's a very romantic place.

CJ: Then what happened?

SR: We were together, then I started to flail around with the PTSD and pushed her away. Right after that we went on an op to find Ms Smith, who'd hired Night Terror . She was really badly hurt by a guy who had a grudge against me, a HYDRA operative. She took a leave of absence to recover physically and mentally, and when she got back she wanted nothing to do with me. I understood, eventually. (eye roll) I'm a little slow. But I worked to show her that I knew I was wrong, but it wasn't until after she found Odin and we went on the rescue mission to find Thor and Hulk that I was able to convince her to marry me.

CJ: Did you really ask her to marry you when you were in the Arena?

SR: I'm categorizing that more as a declaration of intent. I asked her later, with a ring and all, more romantically, when we got back.

CJ: She's got a good sense of humor.

SR: Fortunately.

CJ: So you had a nice wedding, great honeymoon, then you come back, and a few months later, the bad news.

SR: The worst. The serum was breaking down or something.

While it would be nice to blame Tony for the whole mess, Steve was eager to buy what he was selling. He hadn't lost his reason yet, and his desperation for a quick and easy solution to his crisis led to a rather poorly considered decision that was supported by everyone who found out about it. When he was successfully revived, it was a triumph. Except that his memory was holier than Swiss cheese. And he forgot who his wife was.

She disappeared, which should have been a surprise to exactly no one, but this was a team not quite in touch with reality. No one heard a word from her aside from Loki and Peter, and Peter was so furious with all of them that he refused to speak with them. She sent letters to Loki, sometimes with a small, fragrant flower or herb. He didn't share the letters, and Nick delivered them personally so that post marks could not be examined. He figured out that she was hiking, and monitored the route so that he could provide discreet assistance if necessary. It wasn't. He started monitoring Breckenridge after seeing how broken she looked on some security feeds, and listened with no comment when Tony and Steve tried to find her.

Colin James: How did you finally remember your wife?

Steve Rogers: I was unpacking the last of my boxes in February and found a crumpled up flannel shirt. Bucky glanced at it and said Emma had loved me in it, he'd seen her once crying into it. And I caught a whiff of perfume. It triggered my memory. It was like living without water and being hit by a tidal wave. I had a panic attack. Buck had to call the clinic for advice. (Silence) When we found her, she looked at me with such loathing. She was really suffering. Her dogs had been taken back, and they were a huge support to her. She wouldn't speak to me, wouldn't listen. I was desperate, but you can't blame her.

CJ: Wasn't gonna, actually.

SR: Bucky asked for her help with his arm and she agreed. By that time, what I'd done had strained our friendship almost to the breaking point. He wouldn't tell us when it was scheduled, but we got T'Challa to. He didn't know the full extent of what we'd done or he wouldn't have. Then Thor brought her dogs back and arranged for his brother to be her roommate. He made it sound like she'd be doing him a favor, but it was a way to be sure she was ok. Thor was really worried about her, and Loki would have done anything to help. Thor and Bucky finally said where she was when she got the subway virus and had to have medical treatment. She almost died. A lot of doctors and ERs won't treat supers with physical enhancements. It can be dangerous, or they just don't have the equipment. And everybody knew not to even suggest that she be taken to the clinic in the tower.

CJ: And that was the beginning of the reconciliation.

SR: I worked really hard to show her that I was sorry. I didn't expect to get her back. I don't really deserve her.

CJ: Do you worry about heroing? It's dangerous, and she's been very badly injured a few times.

SR: Of course. But if I go down, I want her to be happy. Ideally with Buck. They'd be good for each other. If she goes down... fuck. I don't know what I'd do. I've never handled her brushes with death well before.

CJ: You've really got a potty mouth. I thought you were all about clean language and clean living.

SR: (smiling slightly) It's disrespectful to swear around women, but sometimes a curse is very expressive. (shrugs slyly) And while I can't get intoxicated anymore, there are other ways to be a wild man. (booming laugh) I just keep that sort of thing private. An enhanced physiology has to be good for something, right?

CJ: You're a surprising guy, Cap. (laughing)

SR: Well, nobody likes to be too predictable. (Winks) If we're done, I've got a date with my wife. I did tell you that she asked me, the second time, right? Just want to brag about that again.

CJ: (laughs) You may have mentioned that before. (They say goodbye. The door closes behind Cap. Colin laughs.) This is going to be one hell of a book. Be better if I could use everything off the record, though. These guys. What a bunch of goofballs.