Steve turns his head and smiles sloppily at his friend. "I love dreams like this. When yer you. I don't get'em that much 'nymore..."

He starts reaching around for his wallet and is patting around his Driftfleet uniform for a pocket before forgetting entirely how people pay here. Credits, right? No...no, his account is low. It's hard to be popular when you're doing nothing but drinking and feeling sorry for yourself. He pulls out a few rectangles of Chips and slams them on the table. He's overpaid by a bit, but math is beyond his mental fortitude at the moment.

"C'n we get ta Brooklyn from here? 's my dream. I'd rather be in Brooklyn even if it does have a draft..."

He tries to stand and leans heavily on Bucky in the failed process. His hand connects with the shield and he frowns.

"Why ya got that? No fightin' in dreams. 'sides, it's mine. Or...Tony's. I dunno 'nymore..."