Title: Concerning Dairy
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Characters: Jacques Dernier, Dum Dum Dugan, James Falsworth, Jim Morita, Gabe Jones, Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes
Word Count: 651
Rating: T
Summary: Jacques tells a story about cows around the campfire. The Howlies come to an unspoken agreement about livestock (it's not about livestock). Steve and Bucky are oblivious idiots who excel at metaphorical mooing.
“My father grew cows,” Jacques says one evening apropos of nothing.
“Farmed cows,” Gabe breaks in. “You grow plants but farm animals.”
“Ah, merci.” Jacques leans in towards the fire and slices another piece off one of the rabbits Bucky shot earlier.
Bucky, who shot the rabbits and skinned them and then didn’t join them for supper.
“So, my father farmed cows,” Jacques starts again, ignoring Dum Dum’s impatient huff. “Dairy cows. We milked them.”
“Cows that make milk, who’d’a thought.” Jim snorts and thumps Gabe on the back when he chokes. “Hey, buddy, this leading anywhere?”
Jacques raises a finger. “Most of the cows produced good milk, but there were two who were different.”
Monty, sitting next to the stump they’d saved for Cap where Cap’s not sitting, says ‘ah’ under his breath and lights his pipe.
“These cows produced milk that was-sour, eh? It tasted strange. My father thought to butcher them. But my mother had the idea to use their milk to make cheese, and it turned out the cheese was delicious.”
No one looks at the empty stump on Monty’s left or the bare patch of dirt on Dum Dum’s right. It is so obvious that everyone’s not looking that the silence after Jacques’ words lengthens and grows awkward.
“And I think, even if their cheese had not been delicious, they were-they were fine cows.” Jacques takes a bite and chews slowly, as if he’s having trouble finding the precise words in English that he’s looking for. “They mooed as well as any other cow, yes? You could not tell from the outside that the cows were strange, and who are we to judge the milk of a cow, which is or is not sour, we know not, if all that we require of the cow is that it moos?”
“Absolutely,” Jim says.
“Fine creatures, cows,” Monty supplies. “Every one of them. Noble beasts.”
“Don’t see how it’s any of our business,” from Gabe.
“If a damn cow mooed well enough to save a hundred men from HYDRA, that’s all I’d need to know ‘bout it,” is Dum Dum’s contribution. He gives a satisfied nod and gnaws some meat off a tiny bone.
“Mind you,” Monty says after a few minutes of silence which is less awkward and more relieved, “Those, err, those two cows of your father’s, it’s possible they didn’t even know they made queer milk.”
“Or they knew they made it, but they didn’t think the other cow did too, and thought they were alone, with their sour milk.” Jim purses his lips. “Not that I’ve seen anything. Or heard anything on the radios. About cows. And their ridiculous milk.”
“Cows are rather stupid animals, when you think of it,” Jacques admits.
Gabe barks out a laugh. “Thick-headed.”
“You can say that again,” Dum Dum says, and then, cocking his head at a stray thought. “You know, my second cousin, Angus, got trampled by a cow. Broke both his legs, and the week before his wedding, too.”
“No shit. He still get married?”
“Had their first babe nine months later.”
They’ve moved in natural progression from the topic of weddings and babies to drunken birthday brawls they’ve taken part in by the time Steve joins them a quarter hour later, looking mildly disapproving at their stories but laughing all the same.
Bucky slips in some time after that, sidling in next to Dum Dum, his hair and jacket in perfect order. He watches Steve with wide eyes full of longing when he thinks Steve isn’t watching, and Steve watches him much the same in turn.
The Howlies do not watch them as they did not watch their empty spaces round the fire before, carefully and never so either of the two idiots will notice.
It seems unlikely that they ever would, of course, but the courtesy of circumspection is due them all the same.