Scenes From a Homecoming, Part the First
Jul. 7th, 2008 09:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
screwyoumarvelJuly Fourth, The Nine O'Clock News
“And, in national news tonight, is it a miracle or just more trouble as a man claiming to be Steve Rogers–-that’s right, folks, Captain America–-was found wandering around Arlington National Cemetery today. Tony Stark has withheld comment, but other friends of the hero, including James Buchanan Barnes, just recently returned from the dead himself, believe he’s the real deal. Rogers was, of course, assassinated on the steps of the New York City Courthouse just over three months ago on the way to be arraigned for his resistance to the since struck-down Superhuman Registration Act. Legal specialists have confirmed that if this is indeed him, his posthumous pardon will stand. Now on to a heroic kitten in Seattle...”
***
July 7, The Office of Bernadette Rosenthal, Attorney at Law
“It’s not him.”
Bernadette Rosenthal folded her arms across her chest, pushed her glasses up her nose, and said simply, “Prove it.”
“He’s a Skrull.”
“That is a statement of opinion, Mr. Stark. It’s not proof. We’ve had the grave at Arlington exhumed. It’s empty.”
“That’s because I didn’t–” Tony stopped himself.
“You didn’t what?”
“He’s not buried at Arlington. I had him put back in the Arctic Ocean.”
One of Bernie’s eyebrows shot up. “My client’s will specifically stated he was to be buried at Arlington. The plot had been picked out since 2000.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“No, of course, I was only engaged to him that one time, and I’m only his legal counsel. I don’t know him or his wishes at all. Do you have coordinates for where you put his supposed corpse back in the place that traumatized him so horribly, so that I can check your story?”
“Check with Namor. He was supposed to guard the. Body.”
“Of course. Thank you, Mr. Stark, for your cooperation, and have a nice day. My assistant will show you out.” Bucky stood up and went to open the door. Bernie made a note on her legal pad to contact the ruler of Atlantis about producing the drone body–or rather, verifying it was a drone and then not producing it, since they were going with, “It’s a not at all suspiciously well-timed miracle!”
Once Stark was out of the room, she said, "Why is that man always throwing a wrench in my plans? Don't answer that," then picked up the phone and dialed the contact number Bucky had given her in case of emergency. “You want me to handle that?” Bucky asked.
“I got it. You may be needed for verification purposes–-yes, hello, this is Bernadette Rosenthal, calling on behalf of James Buchanan Barnes. I need you to put me through to someone who can put me in contact with your king. Yes, I’ll hold.”
“That’s not going to work.”
“Yes, it is.”
He looked doubtful. “I could seriously handle that.”
“I got it. It’s best to let legal counsel handle these things, and also I can be meaner to him than to Stark.” It was cathartic. She put on her earpiece and went back to answering frantic e-mails from concerned superhumans, and suck up-y e-mails from the press. About twenty minutes later she got off hold, and said in that same calm voice, “Yes, I’m only going to say this once, so listen very carefully. I am calling for Bucky Barnes of the Invaders, concerning Steve Rogers. It’s a matter of life and death. Put Namor on the goddamn phone.”
That did it.
“And, in national news tonight, is it a miracle or just more trouble as a man claiming to be Steve Rogers–-that’s right, folks, Captain America–-was found wandering around Arlington National Cemetery today. Tony Stark has withheld comment, but other friends of the hero, including James Buchanan Barnes, just recently returned from the dead himself, believe he’s the real deal. Rogers was, of course, assassinated on the steps of the New York City Courthouse just over three months ago on the way to be arraigned for his resistance to the since struck-down Superhuman Registration Act. Legal specialists have confirmed that if this is indeed him, his posthumous pardon will stand. Now on to a heroic kitten in Seattle...”
***
July 7, The Office of Bernadette Rosenthal, Attorney at Law
“It’s not him.”
Bernadette Rosenthal folded her arms across her chest, pushed her glasses up her nose, and said simply, “Prove it.”
“He’s a Skrull.”
“That is a statement of opinion, Mr. Stark. It’s not proof. We’ve had the grave at Arlington exhumed. It’s empty.”
“That’s because I didn’t–” Tony stopped himself.
“You didn’t what?”
“He’s not buried at Arlington. I had him put back in the Arctic Ocean.”
One of Bernie’s eyebrows shot up. “My client’s will specifically stated he was to be buried at Arlington. The plot had been picked out since 2000.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“No, of course, I was only engaged to him that one time, and I’m only his legal counsel. I don’t know him or his wishes at all. Do you have coordinates for where you put his supposed corpse back in the place that traumatized him so horribly, so that I can check your story?”
“Check with Namor. He was supposed to guard the. Body.”
“Of course. Thank you, Mr. Stark, for your cooperation, and have a nice day. My assistant will show you out.” Bucky stood up and went to open the door. Bernie made a note on her legal pad to contact the ruler of Atlantis about producing the drone body–or rather, verifying it was a drone and then not producing it, since they were going with, “It’s a not at all suspiciously well-timed miracle!”
Once Stark was out of the room, she said, "Why is that man always throwing a wrench in my plans? Don't answer that," then picked up the phone and dialed the contact number Bucky had given her in case of emergency. “You want me to handle that?” Bucky asked.
“I got it. You may be needed for verification purposes–-yes, hello, this is Bernadette Rosenthal, calling on behalf of James Buchanan Barnes. I need you to put me through to someone who can put me in contact with your king. Yes, I’ll hold.”
“That’s not going to work.”
“Yes, it is.”
He looked doubtful. “I could seriously handle that.”
“I got it. It’s best to let legal counsel handle these things, and also I can be meaner to him than to Stark.” It was cathartic. She put on her earpiece and went back to answering frantic e-mails from concerned superhumans, and suck up-y e-mails from the press. About twenty minutes later she got off hold, and said in that same calm voice, “Yes, I’m only going to say this once, so listen very carefully. I am calling for Bucky Barnes of the Invaders, concerning Steve Rogers. It’s a matter of life and death. Put Namor on the goddamn phone.”
That did it.
