governmentninja | Need to Know Basis...

Need to Know Basis...

Finding a bar in the nexus wasn't too difficult, as there were a lot of them around. It was a bit of a dive, which likely made Leon and the newly clean cut Kevin look out of place, but it didn't seem to bother Leon none. He walked up to the bar and ordered a couple of beers, which were promptly placed on the bar for them.

"So, since when do 'responsible' and 'Kevin Ryman' belong in the same sentence?"

He really can't wait to hear this story.

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Kevin, grateful to be out of Chris' direct eyeshot, finally loosens his collar and un-tucks the shirt from his pants before settling onto a stool. He pounds back almost half of his beer at a go, belches quietly, then shakes his head.

"You're not gonna believe me."

He seems mildly disgusted with himself.

There's an amused chuckle at the sudden change to more normal-ish Kevin behavior.

"Try me."

Kevin's completely still for a moment, this drink more pensive and almost pained. He peers at Leon sidelong, then sighs.

"Yoko's been sick lately. Becky ran some medical battery to see what was shakin', and. Well, turns out she..." he gestures with his beer bottle, then shakes his head and sighs, eyes straight ahead, "...we're expectin'. I guess."

The bartender stops, and he and Kevin share a long look. A pitcher of beer is filled post haste, and set down in front of them with a mumble of "on the house".

Yeah, it was that kind of a week.

...

"...wow."

Leon ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know what to expect, but Yoko having a kid wasn't it.

"...um, man. Congratulations... but..."

His mind will gel around that in a few more seconds.

Kevin winces and takes another drink. Yeah, that "but" is exactly how he feels about the whole thing.

"Yeah. Keep it under your hat, for now."

Leon takes a drink while the news settles into a brain.

Kevin and Yoko are having a kid.

"Um, yeah." He could certainly keep a secret. "No wonder you asking about responsibility back that. This is big."

He glanced over to Kevin.

"At least you're not freaking out about it."

"All freaked out, man," he says, "haven't slept in about a day and a half. Crashin' off the panic right now. I'm not even thinkin' straight right now." He rubs his eyes. "I ain't cut out for this shit and I know it."

That last sentiment sobers Leon a bit. Granted, he never thought of Kevin as someone who would ever settle down and have kids, doesn't mean he'll be horrible at raising them.

"What are you talkin' about? You'll do alright as a dad."

Kevin doesn't seem convinced. He's sober, too! Well, emotionally.

"...did I ever tell you 'bout my parents?"

That catches him a little off guard.

"No... Don't think you've ever mentioned them, now that I think about it."

Kevin nods, measuring the beer left in his bottle by eye. Not enough.

"Real bigots," he says, "racist, sexist, real nice Southern-Baptist folk all across the board. 'Course, they don't talk about this in front of anyone they could hurt by it. Needless to say, they ain't met nor heard of Yoko yet."

"Doesn't mean I'm ashamed or afraid of it, or needin' their permission... but I dunno how someone raised by people like that could give the kids what they need." A little, dry laugh, "Then there's explainin' why they only have one set'a grandparents, 'cause fuck if I'm putting them through that shit."

Honestly? He never would've guessed. Which says a lot about Kevin, actually.

"You should give yourself more credit. You didn't turn out half-bad with parents like that."

Kevin raises his eyebrows and chugs down some more beer, as if to say that was nice but it doesn't help him now.

"Thanks. It just... it's gonna make life hard on the kid, and on both of us. At least where my family's concerned."

"Some problems," he had to admit, and down more beer. "But you still have a lot to offer a kid.

"Someone has to teach 'em how to handle a rifle."

Kevin looks hopeful, then sardonic.

"Thanks, you prick." He has more beer, too, then on a whim orders some whiskey, as really, this situation calls for nothing less than complete drunkenness.

"Off the topic of me completely fuckin' up my life for a minute, how is Claire?"

"You're welcome, asshat."

There's a smirk, which fades a little at the mention of Claire.

"She's fine," he was about to throw out the words 'very much not pregnant', but decided to take some pity on Kevin.

"But she and I have both been so busy that we don't get to spend as much time together as I would like."

Kevin peers at Leon sidelong, pausing just before a drink.

"...'s everything okay between you?"

He nods his head.

"Yeah, everything fine."

Thinking about it, he can definitely say that nothing is wrong.

Kevin watches him a moment longer, then makes a face that says "okay, if you say so".

"We been pretty busy with this Italy thing, but everyone else seems to be gettin' downtime."

Pause.

"She does work pretty hard, I guess." Slug.

"You guys might be getting downtime. My whole Department went batshit over this." He shook his head, then took a drink. He did not want to think about that whole mess right now.

"Yeah, she does. She was kinda nervous about it in the beginning, but I think she's settled in."

He took another drink.

"What about you, enjoying finally making STARS?"

Kevin pauses a moment.

"It's a lot of responsibility, I'll give it that." He reaches over to horde some pretzels from a nearby basket. "Not what I thought it would be."

"What do you mean, 'batshit'?"

There was a pause. He hated that he has to think of how to phrase this.

"STRATCOM likes to keep an eye on everything. They like to know what's coming.

"No one saw this coming. Which means they don't know what's coming after. They haven't been this caught off guard since Ashley got kidnapped.

"And even worse? It all happened on foreign soil. Out of our direct jurisdiction, so now Italy can use Birkin as leverage in some kind of international political power play."

Leon downed more of his beer.

"So, yeah, batshit, while the people up above try to figure out how to get the situation back under their control."

Kevin just about blanks out. Politics fucking suck at the best of times.

"That's some complicated shit, man." He scratches an eyebrow. "How's your position in the agency going? Open for promotion sometime soon? They work you like a fucking dog."

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Need to Know Basis...

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