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| My Shoes Keep Walking Back To You; 05/24-afternoon-(Steve, Sharon, James) | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 10 2014, 08:01 PM (571 Views) | |
| Steve Rogers | Nov 19 2014, 09:37 PM Post #16 |
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The Man Behind the Shield
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Stronger than he looked? Steve didn’t doubt that about the little boy who was his son, though he also couldn’t help but remember that that was more than anyone could have ever said about James’ father at that age. But then, hereditary could surprise you, couldn’t it? For instance, James at four and a half already seemed able to take suggestions better than his mother had at any age. It did seem worth mentioning out loud. If only because Sharon currently happened to be out of reach of anything that might do too much damage to a wall if she threw it at him. And because he’d missed the way her eyebrows lifted like that when she was trying to cover up indignance. ”I’ve never had a problem taking suggestions," she countered, lips twitching up at the corners. Smirking, in fact. “You just didn't like that I wouldn't always use them.” He’d always rather liked that expression on her too. And the way she had of twisting things to suit her view. And the way she’d always found a way to surprise him, whether she listened to him or not. And the way she was covertly sizing up that pillow, as if assessing her odds with it. With all of that in mind, and a smile that seemed to be easier by the moment on his face, Steve decided to forbear with countering with an observation that what she described didn’t really count as taking suggestions, so much as ‘kidnapping suggestions and stuffing them in a lockbox, never to be seen again’. Right now, it was more than enough just to grin at her. He had a feeling she’d remember the rest of those conversations just as well as he did, and that was… good. For now, that would be enough, because their son was there, waiting for his promised ‘secret trick’, and he couldn’t delay that - he wouldn’t ever want to. Even though there was nothing of a trick about it. Little enough in actual instruction either, Steve soon discovered. A demonstration, a few words. The same few words he might have given any pupil, though he couldn’t really remember any that drank them in so intently. There was a focused gleam in James’ eye that any teacher (or any father, but that went without saying, didn’t it?) would have been proud to seebefore executing the parry again with a precision that looked almost as though his body could have been remembering it, rather than learning it anew. Yes! There was a feeling of pride swallowing his chest that took Steve by surprise with its fierceness, but turning toward Sharon to share a smile with her- that felt like the most natural thing he could have ever found himself doing. Their son. Had he felt the difference? Yes, Steve decided a moment later, though he was convinced more by the focused expression on his son’s face than the preoccupied nearly-verbal answer he got to the question. James was already working through the sequence of movements again, breaking them down more slowly. His son. His, and Sharon’s. He’d never really imagined that it was possible to feel this way. Or that was how he was thinking, up until he turned back toward Sharon and knew, the moment he saw her again, that there was nothing new at all about this feeling. It belonged anywhere she was, with anything that was a part of her, and it always had. The way the light caught her hair and her eyes. The way she smiled, as he turned his toward her. The way she was still Sharon, five years or not. “He gets that from you, too," she told him quietly, with a hitch in her voice he would have liked to have known how to smooth away, even while he knew that maybe it had to be there. And her words - was that what she saw when she looked at that little boy? Because what he saw watching James, was her fierce determination, and the drive she’d always had. Ready to do whatever she had to to prove herself, and to keep doing it, until she had. “Mom, did you see?” Steve could hear the excited smile in their son’s voice even before the little boy turned around to treat him to that same question. “Did you? That was awesome!” “Very,” Steve agreed whole-heartedly, smiling back at him, with one eye on Sharon as she drew nearer to the little boy again. “I saw," Sharon told her son, moving back in closer to run her hand over his hair again affectionately. "You were great," she assured him with a still soft smile, "You'll have to show that to Uncle Wraith later.” Uncle…Wraith? John Wraith? “I need more practice," James replied, though he did nod, as though the suggestion had been nothing out of the ordinary. Even knowing this couldn’t be the time where explanations would happen, Steve couldn’t quite keep his eyebrows from lifting. Or keep something he didn’t like to put a name to from tugging at his heart. John Wraith. He knew the man, a little. Trusted him, of course. He’d always seemed like a good man, however he made the rules by which he lived his life. But the grizzled teleporter as an uncle to his son? How- how had that possibly come to happen? Where was Sam? The hand Sharon laid on his arm didn’t completely stop those thoughts, but it did help to slow them, to let give him give himself enough time to corral them, set them aside. In a place he could return to them later, but for now - for now, Sharon was here. Steve turned his forearm over, palm up, just in time to catch the tips of her fingers as she withdrew her touch again. She was here. Their son was here. He could focus on that. “He’ll do this all day if you'll let him, you know," she told him, turning her face up to his. Proudly, Steve thought, even if there was tolerant amusement there too. She’d earned it, though. ”Watch this," Sharon added, then whirled and without any warning brought her fist around and down straight toward her son. Fast. Just the right speed to be not quite fast enough. He knew that move. And as Steve watched, waiting to see what his son would do with the surprise attack, he found that his hands, his shoulders, and his feet were twitching. Hovering on the edge of the sequence of movements that would allow the localization, the spin, and the block to come and- do just what James had managed, intercepting the feinted punch (just this side of feinted, at that) with the shield. Catching it squarely in the center. “Good!” he didn’t even need to stop to think before crying out, as the little boy relaxed his frown of concentration into a grin that made the world seem like an easier place all over again. “Now I have to start over again.” In spite of the sincere seriousness, Steve couldn’t help but smile, looking from the little boy to Sharon. This was life. This was… home. This was… everything he’d never quite dared himself to think of wanting. This was a family. His family. How long had he wanted this without knowing that he did? “Before you do, son-“ Steve moved quickly, stepping in to stand in front of James before the little boy had had time to return to his practice. He knelt then, so he could look his son in the eye, on the same level (that felt important). “Can I have a moment of your time?” James looked… nervous, maybe. Perhaps he hadn’t thought through how he ought to phrase that well enough. Perhaps because he hadn’t really thought through it at all, but that didn’t matter, because it felt right, in a way that Steve Rogers knew better than to even consider doubting. It was right. He waited, watching as the little blonde boy swallowed, then nodded, hurriedly but silently, as if he was too curious (or possibly anxious. Hopefully not, though) to find words. Steve thought he might know just how his son felt right now. But he needed to find the words, so find them he did, starting with his name. “James,” he said, swallowing once - nervously. Yes, it definitely was nervously for him, too - before he could continue. “I’d like to ask for your permission to ask your mother if she’d like to marry me,” he explained to the boy. |
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| Sharon Carter | Nov 20 2014, 09:20 PM Post #17 |
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He Who Hesitates Is Toast
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He got that from Steve, too. That focus, that need to get it just right and the ability to put his mind to it and do it. Believe that he could do it that she wouldn't have ever associated with a little boy his age. Until she'd seen it in her son, almost from the time he was born. Just as sure as his father had ever been of what he wanted to do and what he wanted to be. He took her breath away, put a catch in her voice as she spoke. A smile on her face as he turned to her, then his father, all happy excitement that he wanted to share as he declared it 'awesome'. “Very,” Steve agreed wholeheartedly, smiling back at him as she moved back to where they stood. Her son and his father. Steve, crashing into her life again with a speed that still made her feel dizzy. Like she was lagging half a second behind it all. Turning it upside down the way he always had, the way she'd missed more than she'd ever imagine or could ever admit. Knowing he probably felt that and more was some consolation, Sharon guessed, as she ran her hand over James' blonde head of hair and assured their son that, yes, she'd seen and it was great and he'd have to show it off to John later. So he could tell James he was doing 'pretty good' (high praise from John Wraith) and make his day that little bit more. But she did still wish she could've made it all a little easier for Steve somehow. Eased him into it all a little more. How, she didn't have any damned idea. There'd been all of a few hours notice before it was happening and her focus had to be on getting him out alive, getting him back. That didn't mean he didn't deserve better. Better than the look on his face as James announced that he needed to practice more. The lift of his eyebrows and the shadows that crossed behind his eyes, and Sharon knew he was putting a few more of the pieces together. Starting to see the holes as her hand went to his arm. Not here, not now. This wasn't something she could do with their son in the room. Or something she thought he'd want to do with James here. Felt the brush of his fingertips reaching out to brush against hers as she put those things aside again. For later. Now, there was James, who'd do this all day if they let him. As she turned her face up to Steve's, pride and amusement and something she hadn't felt in so long it took her a second to name it (home - this man and this little boy, they were home, her home and her family) there in her expression when she couldn't resist showing him a taste of just how extraordinary their son was. It was a move she'd used for years. It might've even been one she'd gotten from Steve. Simple but effective. One she was prepared to pull up short in case James happened, for once, to miss the cues in all the excitement. Sharon didn't think he would and he didn't. Quick movements, determinedly narrowed eyes, and her fist impacted that shield dead center. Perfect. “Good!” Steve exclaimed as James grinned, turned her name into a familiar protest and - looking so pleased with himself that she wanted to just hug him - informed her that she was making him have to start allll over again. Of course she was. Steve was smiling. So was she. It was as easy, as effortless, as slipping her hand into a familiar, well worn glove. “Before you do, son-“ Steve moved quickly, stepping in to stand in front of James before the little boy had had time to return to his practice. He knelt then, so he could look his son in the eye, on the same level (that felt important). “Can I have a moment of your time?” Sharon's smile melted slowly in to a frown, more curious than concerned. What was he doing? James was apprehensive, suddenly just an unsure little not-quite-five-year-old-boy again. Swallowing hard, like he thought he might be in trouble. She couldn't not have reached out to their son, hand stroking lightly, reassuringly, over his hair again as he nodded. "It's alright," she assured him softly and with a smile again as his eyes flickered briefly her way. Whatever Steve had in mind, she knew that was true. “James,” he said, swallowing once - nervously and she went back to frowning again. What- “I’d like to ask for your permission to ask your mother if she’d like to marry me,” he explained as Sharon felt her eyes go wide. He what? Sharon stared at him. James was frowning, nervousness melted away as he looked considerately from his father to her then back again. "You didn't already?" he asked, like he was trying to figure out why that might be. God, what the hell was Steve doing? "James," she started to say, in an effort to head this off, eyes darting from her son to his father. This..no, this wasn't...he couldn't just- Their little boy was already nodding. Solemnly, and looking back at his father. "I think you should," James told Steve, then looked at her again before turning back and leaned in to 'whisper' - it wasn't actually any more of an actual whisper than he managed last night - to confide, "It's not good when she starts to look like that." Had he...did Steve Rogers just make some kind of end run around her with their four year old? Her heart was thudding in her chest triple time as Sharon turned back toward Steve. She should be furious. She halfway wanted to...maybe punch him again, and lock herself in the bathroom until she could decide how to deal with this. She didn't want the lump that was suddenly in her throat again that she had to swallow around or the sudden rush of emotion that felt too overwhelming. Five years ago, she'd thought about this. Wondered. Knew it would probably be important to him, once he knew she was pregnant. Those 1940's sensibilities of his. Then she'd put all that away. Locked it up with the rest of what had been her life, then. God, she loved him, always had, but she wasn't sure she could do this. What the hell was he thinking? What the hell was she supposed to say? "You don't-" she began, haltingly, trying to find the words again. "Steve, you don't have to do this right now," Sharon finally got out, voice soft but a little tight as she met his eyes. A little more helpless than she'd have liked. "I'm not going anywhere. We're not going anywhere," she added, eyes flickering back briefly to their son, then settling on Steve again. He had to know that, didn't he? Not that she didn't want it, but that she didn't need a proposal, and she wouldn't be an obligation to some outdated sense of responsibility. And he'd just spent five years in some kind of hell and they hadn't had more than five minutes to just talk. "That's not what you're supposed to say," James leaned over a little to inform her in another 'whisper' and Sharon sighed inwardly, torn between laughing and crying. Of course she was outnumbered. |
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| Steve Rogers | Nov 24 2014, 08:58 PM Post #18 |
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The Man Behind the Shield
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He’d moved quickly. Maybe some of that was tactics; you had to move quickly with Sharon, or before you knew it, she’d ducked back out of your reach and wouldn’t give you another opening. But that consideration, while important, was only secondary to the the fact that Steve was running ahead of himself by pure instinct, trusting to what felt right. Nothing had felt more right that he could remember. Certainly not in a very long time. But it couldn’t be denied that he’d moved so quickly that he might have scared his son, and that definitely hadn’t been his intention. This was harder than people could make it seem, wasn’t it? Sharon had her hand on their little boy’s head, stroking gently, as he swallowed and gave one brave little nod to assent to giving him time. “It’s alright,” she assured James. Steve hoped she’d remember saying that once he was through. And that- -well, it seemed there was no way for him to avoid being every bit as nervous as their son, but he wouldn’t let that stop him. He had a question - or rather two questions, but the one that was James’ to answer took precedence, even though it did inevitably carry the second question within it, the one that was Sharon’s. First things first, though - before he asked Sharon to marry him, he needed her son’s permission. And there it was. Out there, and as the words hung in the air, Steve realized that every piece of tactical insight he’d ever had must have deserted him, because he had no idea - really, no idea - what was going to happen next. Standing where she was, just behind James, Steve could see Sharon go still, but told himself not to look up. Not yet. Don’t risk it yet, because whether it was bad or good, the first decision here was James’. So instead, Steve watched his son’s eyes track up toward Sharon, then back to him, and tried to tell himself not to feel more hopeful that the boy’s nervousness seemed to be melting away. ”You didn't already?" he asked, like it was the most puzzling part about this. Well… come to think of it, James really wasn’t wrong about that. At all. Sharon might protest - she did protest, in fact, using their son’s name like a warning flag, but there was no need for that. There had never been a need for that, and almost as quickly, Steve shook his head, smile widening just a little as he looked back at his son. “No, but I should have,” he replied seriously. “A long time ago.” Years ago. Far more years than James had been alive, in truth. How stupid did they seem now, all those reasons he’d had why it might not be a good idea to do this? That it might expose Sharon to more danger? That he might risk losing her, if she didn’t want it? Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything about all the time they’d lost, but… maybe it would have. “I think you should," James told Steve, causing another, broader grin to spread across his father’s face. Hurdle one, then. It might have been the easier one to navigate, but no less important for that. His son’s approval - but his son had looked upward once more, and now he’d glanced back, meeting Steve’s gaze with a little added urgency. “It’s not good when she starts to look like that.” And Steve Rogers looked up, guessing at the expression that he’d see on the face of the love of his life, and not being disappointed in the slightest to see that their son hadn’t exaggerated even a little as she turned to look at him at the same time. “It isn’t, is it?” he asked, mostly rhetorically, not taking his eyes off her for even a moment. Maybe not actually angry. Was that something? He wasn’t even sure. He wasn’t really sure about anything at the moment, in point of fact - except for the fact that he knew he was doing exactly what he wanted to be doing. He was still on his knees. Was that right? Traditional, maybe, but he thought he’d like to be on his feet to do this, so Steve stood again, reaching upright just as Sharon found her voice. “You don't-" she began, haltingly, trying to find the words again. "Steve, you don't have to do this right now," Sharon finally got out, voice soft but a little tight as she met his eyes. She sounded lost. Scared. That was the last thing he ever wanted, but maybe it was still better than he had any right to expect, doing this to her now. This soon. She hadn’t run. She was still standing right there, looking at him, and Steve didn’t stop his hand from reaching out to hers, to take hold of it if she’d let him. “I want to,” he told her. Just that. Maybe he wasn’t doing this right (he’d never done these moments right when they’d happened to him, though now he was here he wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to do them right, because they hadn’t been with Sharon). He wasn’t following an approved script - but then they never had done that, had they? Sharon still wasn’t running, at least. But she wasn’t done protesting either. ”I’m not going anywhere. We're not going anywhere," she added, eyes flickering back briefly to their son, then settling on Steve again. “That’s not what you're supposed to say,” James piped up. Taking a moment, Steve broke away from looking at Sharon to glance down at their little boy, and shook his head. “No, Son,” he told him gently, resting his free hand on James’ shoulder for a moment, “there’s no ‘supposed to’ in this.” However understandably it might seem that way to a small boy who clearly wanted it to happen as much - well, almost as much - as he did himself. “It’s up to your mom, and what she wants to choose,” Steve added, glancing back to Sharon for a moment before he returned his eyes to her son. “I’m going to be right here, no matter what she decides.” No matter what Sharon wanted from him, right now, or in the future, that was still going to be true. James considered that for a moment. “Promise?” “Promise,” Steve assured him, and squeezed his shoulder one more time before letting it go, and turning his gaze - along with every last piece of his attention - to the woman who had all of his hopes (and all of his heart), in her keeping. The same way she always had. “But I’ve loved you since the day I met you, Sharon Carter,” Steve declared, as simply and directly as he could, watching her blue eyes and daring to hope that he’d see the answer there, “and I want our lives to be together.” Not just next to each other, running alongside and intersecting. Together. “I’d like to marry you,” Steve told her, and found he had to remind himself to breathe before he could finish that thought, “and I’d like it very, very much if that was what you want too.” |
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| Sharon Carter | Nov 26 2014, 09:33 PM Post #19 |
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He Who Hesitates Is Toast
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James didn't look nervous anymore. Only puzzled. Puzzled over why his father wouldn't have proposed by now. What the hell was Steve doing? It felt like she was moving a step or two behind, a second off timing, what was happening in front of her. Trying to catch up, get ahead of it. And falling flat on her face. The inside of her head was a sudden, chaotic place full of conflicting emotions and sheer disbelief. By the time she managed to get James' name past all that, Sharon knew it was too late to do any good. Steve was already shaking his head, smile going wider and she didn't know how she felt about that, either. “No, but I should have,” he replied seriously. “A long time ago.” Hadn't so much of their time together been full of those? All those 'should haves' and 'might haves', but she couldn't...this wasn't- Of course James thought he should, that wasn't a surprise. He wasn't quite even five years old and he just wanted his mother and his father, the father he thought he'd never get to meet. He wanted them together, so he could feel like they'd keep being there and he wouldn't lose that again. And he'd have that - god knew she wanted him to have that and she didn't have to guess whether or not Steve did, too, she knew he would - but this...this was so much more complicated than he could understand. However she looked, and Sharon didn't even want to guess, it was because she felt like the floor had vanished from under her feet. “It isn’t, is it?” said the man who'd managed to do that the way no one else ever could or had. Looking up at her as she turned her eyes his way. Wanting to be furious with him for this, for putting her in this kind of position, again, in front of their son, not even half an hour since he walked into the room. Not two hours since he walked back into her life. Not even a day since she knew that was even a possibility. Wanting to bolt for the door, or the bathroom, the way she'd wanted to turn around in DC and march herself back to the helicarrier and not have to figure out how to deal with...something like this. But James was there and she couldn't do that. Didn't think she could've even if he wasn't, with her heart trying to thud it's way through her chest and Steve there on his knees with their little boy, but looking up at her intently. Nervous? Was that what she was seeing? Or was that just her? He didn't...this wasn't something he needed to do. Was he thinking straight at all, with as much as he'd already been through and so much else waiting at the fringes of all this? They needed to talk, they need time, they needed- Oh god, she didn't know. She'd watched this man jump out of planes, out of flying cars, run into automatic weapons fire outnumbered fifty to one with nothing but a round piece of metal and his wits. Rushed in with him more often than not, trusting that he knew what he was doing (even if it hadn't kept her from arguing with him at the same time) and he usually did. But this...this felt like- Like everything she'd set aside five years ago was suddenly right in front of her again. Steve, gaining his feet again with that easy grace he'd always had as she tried find the words to tell him this wasn't something he had to do, especially right now. Sure as hell not something she expected him to do, or knew how to deal with when it was coming at her like this. Steve's fingers brushed hers and there was that one heartbeat's hesitation - out of that feeling that it was just all too damned much again - but that was all, before she slipped her hand into his as he said, “I want to,” and that was all. Not leaving her anywhere to go with that, in that way of his that drove her nuts, except to wonder if even Steve Rogers could possibly know what he wanted right now? For god's sake, this wasn't something he needed to run headfirst into. They weren't going anywhere. Not her, not James. If that's what he was worried about, he didn't need to be this time. It was too much for James, though, and he piped up to point out she was going off script. Outnumbered. Outnumbered by the men in her life so fast it made her head spin. Maybe it would've been funny if she still didn't feel like she was in a high altitude free-fall with no parachute. With a shake of his head, Steve looked from her to their son. “No, Son,” he told him gently, resting his free hand on James’ shoulder for a moment, “there’s no ‘supposed to’ in this.” James thought there should be, though, didn't he? She could see it on his face, disappointment starting to gather in his eyes as they turned her way briefly. Confused and questioning and making her wish again they could've done this without him in the room. “It’s up to your mom, and what she wants to choose,” Steve added, glancing back to her, too, before returning his attention to their son and her fingers tightened on his of their own accord. “I’m going to be right here, no matter what she decides.” Didn't he know she'd made that decision, the only one that really mattered, years ago? Maybe he didn't, she hadn't always been good at showing it. Including today. “Promise?” James asked seriously, after thinking it over and looking too much like his father as he did it. “Promise,” Steve assured him, and squeezed his shoulder one more time, seeming to satisfy James, for now at least, before he turned back to her and all the trepidation Sharon was busy trying to convince herself didn't exist sprang up full force. “But I’ve loved you since the day I met you, Sharon Carter,” Steve declared, as simply and directly as he did so many things, “and I want our lives to be together.” There was hope on his face and nerves of his own and her fingers squeezed against his again as she looked into Steve's sky blue eyes. Together. That felt right in a way nothing had in five years. Face to face, hand in hand, the way that had always felt right. Even during the times when she'd hated that it still did, when she'd tried to forget that, tell herself she didn't miss him. Didn't still love him. Even when they'd been on opposite sides of a war. "Do you really think I don't?" she asked quietly, eyes still on his as the words slipped out, caught between frustration because she couldn't strangle him in front of their son for this stunt, and resignation, and all the things she'd always felt for him, with him. This wouldn't change that or make it any more possible. Couldn't they wait, until their heads were clearer and- “I’d like to marry you,” Steve told her, stopping the jumble of her thoughts in their tracks. Frustrated her even more and took her breath. Reminded her how much of her life and her heart had been and still was his, “and I’d like it very, very much if that was what you want too.” How in the world was she supposed to know what she wanted right now, when she barely knew which way was up and she still thought a strategic retreat to lock herself in the bathroom sounded pretty damned good? She did know, though, didn't she? From the second Steve walked into the room. No, a long, long time before that. Before James, before today in DC, before they'd lost years of their lives together to one crisis or another. "We're both insane," Sharon muttered under her breath, blonde hair spilling around her shoulders as she shook her head and reached for Steve's free hand with her other one. "I can't believe you're doing this now," she semi-accused him without any real heat behind the words , but with a lingering hint of dwindling exasperation, as she gave up fighting a battle she couldn't win. If not particularly gracefully, then at least with a steadiness she hadn't expected. Maybe she should've. "I've been in love with you for so long," Sharon began, still looking up into his eyes, half-aware that James was watching them like his favorite cricket team in a...well, whatever you called a close match in that. She never had learned how that worked, exactly. "I never stopped loving you," she added, following that with another shake of her head, "but I won't marry Captain America." The words hung there just long enough for her to take a breath, get a solid grip on that unexpected steadiness to try to make sure it wasn't going anywhere, but not any longer than it took for the corners of her mouth to curve upward in the beginnings of a smile. "I'd like very much to marry Steve Rogers, though." Their son would be confused, she knew, but Steve wouldn't. Or she didn't think he would. It had always been the man she wanted, not the icon. Even though it was as much a part of him as Agent 13, the operative, was for her it wasn't all of who they were and they had son who needed parents at least a little more than he needed super-heroes. |
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| Steve Rogers | Dec 1 2014, 11:24 PM Post #20 |
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The Man Behind the Shield
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Too much? Too soon? The answer must have been there in Sharon’s eyes, somewhere, but Steve couldn’t seem to read it. Was he just keeping himself from seeing it there? The possibility occurred, and couldn’t be entirely dismissed. If he’d cornered her - if he’d made her feel like she’d been cornered; if he’d misread all of this; if he’d just missed some important fact of the life she’d had to make for herself and their son without him, moving this quickly. It was easy, at least by comparison, to reassure James, even while looking to readjust his expectations. There wasn’t a narrative here, or not one that ‘supposed to’ had any business belonging. That was up to Sharon, and as for the part that he suspected was the source of their little boy’s worries, that lacked even the shadow of question. Whatever happened, he’d be right here. Right there, for his son. Sharon didn’t need to marry him for that to be true, which she knew - he knew she knew it, even before the squeeze of her fingers said it for her. Hopefully now James would too. It took a promise, but that was a promise Steve was happy to give, before he looked back to Sharon, and told her how he felt. How he’d always felt about her, and what that feeling meant. In practical terms, it was very simple. The rest of their lives, together. That was what he wanted. Slim fingers pressed tight against his, but he almost didn’t dare to take hope from that. Her eyes - it would be so, so easy to read everything he wanted in the steady, clear-eyed gaze she fixed on his. The love, the clear-sighted dream of what it could be. What they could be. What they were. His heart was hitting his ribcage like it had come straight from the midst of a battle. He was sure his palms must be starting to sweat; she’d notice that, wouldn’t she? She looked… frustrated. A hundred different things, but one of them was frustrated, he knew that look. And then she spoke. “Do you really think I don't?" she asked quietly. No real accusation there, though the frustration peeked through the midst of it. Not the only thing she was feeling, but the easiest of all the mulit-layered emotions to make out, certainly. “I think that’s for you to say. Not me,” Steve told her, mastering the thudding of his heart enough to keep his voice steady, and his words calm. He wouldn’t put words into her mouth. Not now. Not ever, but not now, and not with this. All he could tell her was what was true for him, and what it was that he felt. Those were simple enough. No layers, and - in this - no confusion at all. He would like to marry her. He’d like it if that was what she wanted too. He’d like it very, very much. “We’re both insane," Sharon muttered under her breath, which didn’t tell him much - nothing he didn’t know, and nothing about what she might be thinking behind that not-quite frozen look she had. But she took his other hand in her own, and that was more than enough to hold onto hope. “I can't believe you're doing this now.” “I know,” said Steve, sincerely. “It’s at least eleven years late.” Which was only a fraction of everything he wanted to tell her, but she looked calmer now - or more centered, ready to speak - and so he caught his tongue, and his breath, and waited for her. “I’ve been in love with you for so long," Sharon began, still looking up into his eyes, making another slow smile steal its way across his face. She was. She did. Everything he felt, and its answer was there, in the two blue eyes that turned up to his. “I never stopped loving you," she added, but then she shook her head. She shook her head. “ut I won't marry Captain America.” Steve’s breath caught, and twisted in his throat, hard. Too tight even to swallow. He was stuck, still, for a moment that seemed to be much, much, longer than it could possibly have been. All of this. All of everything that they’d been through, together and apart. And now, after all of it… she was going to be the one who let his uniform come between them? He should speak. He knew that he should. To tell her… to tell her that it was alright. That it was okay. That he understood, even if he didn’t. Perhaps he would in time, and for now what was more important was showing his son - their son - that he’d meant what he’d told him. That it was Sharon’s decision, and that she’d made it. Steve had only got as far as begin to open his mouth though, when he saw the start of a smile on her face. He stopped. Breathed again. Hoped again. Waited. “I’d like very much to marry Steve Rogers, though,” she said, and then he smiled. Still smiling, he looked at her, and then dropped his eyes, looking down between them. “I don’t see a uniform here,” he told her. SHIELD-issue sweats and a plain white t-shirt. No flag. No shield. Just a man, who loved a woman called Sharon Carter. “It’s Steve who’s asking.” It was an assurance. No, it wasn’t. It was just the truth, and that was how he said it, bringing their hands together, all four joined in one neat cluster between them, then stepping in. A little closer. “So is that a yes?” Steve Rogers asked Sharon Carter. |
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| Sharon Carter | Dec 2 2014, 10:06 PM Post #21 |
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He Who Hesitates Is Toast
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For her to say. Of course. Of course that's what Steve would say, right now when she didn't know what to say or what to think or how this had gone...here. So fast it made her head spin, pulled the floor from under her and made her feel like running again. Frustrated her out of her mind. When she was trying to tell him this was a choice she'd already made, years ago. He had...could he possibly not know that, even now? Infuriating. Infuriating, frustrating man whose voice was steady while his palms had gone clammy and she could see the uncertainty on his face. Who Sharon wanted to be completely furious with for putting her in this position. For maneuvering her here, now, in front of James. Who was so damned sincere and genuine that it didn't leave room for her to be anything but in love with him, the way she'd always been in love with him. They were both insane, for even considering this, even talking about this, right now. She still couldn't believe he was asking this now, of all times. Maybe there was room for at least a little exasperation in there after all, because she felt the fading edges of it, still, as she looked up at him. He had an answer for that, too. Of course he did. “I know,” said Steve, sincerely. “It’s at least eleven years late.” Sharon sighed, the sound carrying the last of that exasperation. Let it evaporate it away to be replaced by a steadiness she hadn't expected to find as she stood there with both hands in his now. Feeling something she hadn't felt in the five years without him. It felt right, the way this - them - had always felt right. Because she did love him - had been in love with him for so long. She'd never stopped, even when she told herself that she wished she could. Sharon watched the smile spread over his face then, saw all those feelings mirrored back to her in Steve's eyes and in his. Then watched that smile fade as she shook her head and finished the rest of that sentence. Maybe she should've felt more than a prick of conscience for the way that wiped all the hope out of his expression like an eraser running across a chalkboard. Replaced it with something stunned and stricken. To tell the truth, she did feel some regret, but not enough to keep from thinking a little taste of being broadsided himself served him right. It wasn't like she left him hanging long. Not longer than it took to take a breath, squeeze his hand, and smile again. Make sure she had a firm hold on that certainty. No, she wouldn't marry Captain America, but she'd like marry Steve Rogers. She'd like that very much. Steve smiled again and something inside her felt suddenly...light. Weightless. It wasn't a feeling she was used to but it was one she liked, the former operative decided, as the man she wanted to marry dropped his eyes downward and hers followed briefly. “I don’t see a uniform here,” he told her and neither did she, other than her own. There was just Steve, in a t-shirt and sweats. Like those all to rare times in her memory, when they hadn't been running off to the next disaster or potential disaster and had a little time to themselves. “It’s Steve who’s asking.” He stepped in, gathering their hands together in one knot of fingers and palms as she turned her eyes back up to his, thumb running lightly back and forth over his skin. This was the father of her son, the man she wanted, the man she loved. Always had been, always would be. Maybe it was too fast, too soon. Maybe none of this had been what she'd expected or planned, but it still felt right. They felt right. “So is that a yes?” Steve Rogers asked Sharon Carter and the smile widened, and she still felt steady, and certain. "Say yes," James urged her in another of those whispers that didn't quite qualify, apparently not able to help himself anymore and looking a little abashed, like he'd belatedly thought better of it, after blurting it out. But she didn't need her son's insistence or urging. Though she did pause just long enough to turn her smile his way, to reassure him, before she gave her full attention back to his father again, lifting one brow just a little. Like son, like father. "That, Captain Rogers, is a yes," Sharon assured him, taking her own step in closer, eyes still on his, "So," she added, "are you planning on kissing me again?" This time, if he was, she was reasonably sure she could give him a 'no punching' guarantee. |
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| Steve Rogers | Dec 6 2014, 06:48 PM Post #22 |
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The Man Behind the Shield
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Breath returned. Hope returned, or welled up from the parts of his heart where it had never quite stopped lingering, even before she spoke the words out loud. Him. She’d like to marry him. Steve Rogers. That was what he’d wanted. That was what he’d wanted to hear, because there was no uniform in front of her, just a man who thought his heart might swell to bursting before he got the words of explanation out. He was asking. Steve Rogers was asking Sharon Carter to marry him. If that was a yes, anyway. He’d quite like to hear her say that word out loud, even if that smile was nearly all the answer he could have ever hoped for. “Say yes,” their son’s small, boyish voice piped up from beside them. Steve watched Sharon turn her head to look at James, loving the light he saw in her eyes when she smiled at her boy. A new side of her, at least to him, but it was just as natural, just as much a part of her as all the others that he’d known and loved for longer. “I agree,” he offered, unable to take his eyes off her right now, even to look to their son. Not until she looked up again, raising her eyes back to his. Lifting one eyebrow too, the way she did when she thought he was being more than usually dense. “That, Captain Rogers, is a yes," Sharon assured him, taking her own step in closer, eyes still on his, "So," she added, "are you planning on kissing me again?” Steve quirked the corners of his lips up a little higher. Did she think she could scare him off that with only a single bruise to the jaw? “Whenever you’ll let me, Agent Carter.” And kiss her he did, tilting his face down to meet hers, then slowly letting their hands disentangle from the knot they’d made between their bodies. Moving his arms, one to the back of her neck, the other circling her waist, the way he’d dreamed of, all the times he’d tried not to. Kissing her still. Kissing her until there were no trace of nerves left in the pounding of his heart, just the knowledge of how much he loved her. How much he’d always loved her. Finally, Steve pulled back, and turned a little, bending down to pick up his son, then hoisting the little boy up toward shoulder height with a half-twirl as he straightened. Not quite tossing him the air - there wasn’t room here, however much he felt like he might want to right now - but letting him ‘fly’ for a second, legs free and pointing nearly toward the ceiling. Perhaps he should have given some warning, but James didn’t look scared for a second. Rather he was grinning, almost as widely as Steve knew he himself must be right now. “She’s going to marry me, son,” he told James, not caring for a moment whether it was unnecessary, because he wanted to hear it out loud again. “Yup,” the blonde boy agreed, grinning right back at him, and twisting neatly as his flight came to an end, so that it was the simplest thing in the world for Steve to settle him against his shoulder, one hand lightly supporting him to help him balance. “Best day, ever.” The best day ever. For a moment, it almost truly did feel that way, and Steve kept his smile, though it lost some of its focus as he looked past his little boy again, his eyes going back to Sharon. Thinking of that boy - Justice - lying on the Mall, and of Jess’ face as she cradled Peter Parker. Everything he’d seen there, and in the cold of the Helicarrier’s morgue. He didn’t say anything, just shifted his hand, reaching up to his son’s head. Lightly stroking James’ hair, while he slipped his other arm around Sharon and drew her back to him, all in silence. Dropped his head and laid a kiss lightly on her forehead, still holding her close. One second, two, three. He had his family, and he wouldn’t let what he’d seen, and whatever more he hadn’t rob them of all of the comfort that came with that. “Let’s see what comes next together,” Steve said softly. |
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| Sharon Carter | Dec 7 2014, 05:46 PM Post #23 |
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He Who Hesitates Is Toast
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Say yes. Their little boy - her son, and Steve's son - standing there next to them. Wide-eyed and excited as he watched them. A little abashed, from blurting that out when he couldn't quite keep it all contained. James wanted her to say yes. So did his father. “I agree,” Steve offered, those familiar, warm blue eyes still fixed on her when Sharon turned back. More importantly, as much as she loved them both, she wanted to say yes. It was a certainty, a surety, a steadiness of conviction in her heart and in her mind as she quirked an blonde brow at Steve, still smiling. For Captain Rogers, that was a yes. Then a step closer, their hands still clasped together between them, and a question for him. Was he going to kiss her again? Maybe after DC, he'd rather take his chances with a handshake? Not Steve Rogers. No, he wouldn't let a little thing like a punch to the jaw slow him down and the upward twitch at the corners of his mouth told her that was still true. “Whenever you’ll let me, Agent Carter.” Head tilting toward hers, he did just that as her eyes slipped closed, face tilting up to meet him without hesitation. No moment of surprise. No nerves or panic, only that familiar flutter in the pit of her stomach. The one he'd always put there. Hands slipping apart, they slid up, arms circling his. Steve's strong, steady arm slipping around her waist, gathering her in. Other hand at the back of her neck as she returned that kiss. The way she should've in Washington, the way she had in her memories and in five years of her dreams. With her whole heart, because he'd always had that. With everything she felt for him, and no trace of the panic and confusion from before. Steve was home to her and he always would be in a way that no one else ever could. He was the man she loved, the man she was going to marry (whether she still thought they might both be crazy or not), and she intended to spend the rest of her life letting him kiss her. Wanting him to. Smiling, heart beating a rapid, happy staccato in her chest as he pulled back, turned and scooped up their little boy. Hoisted a grinning James gently into the air, as much as he could in the low ceiling-ed room. Watched with a catch in her throat and her chest at a sight she knew she'd never, ever forget as long as she lived because it was on Sharon hadn't imagined she'd ever see. James and Steve, together and smiling and happy. “She’s going to marry me, son,” he told their little boy who looked like he was about to burst with it all. Had she ever seen him quite this happy before? “Yup,” the blonde boy agreed, grinning right back at him, and twisting neatly as his flight came to an end, so that it was the simplest thing in the world for Steve to settle him against his shoulder, one hand lightly supporting him to help him balance. “Best day, ever.” And for that little four year old boy, Sharon knew it was. Steve's eyes shifted her way, though, with that smile still on his face but she'd known him a long time. The thoughts running through his head were practically transparent. Washington, Sentinels, the state of the country. The people they'd lost and the ones they might still lose. All the things he'd know were waiting. The ones he couldn't suspect, yet, and the ones he'd have to by now, waiting to be confirmed. He didn't say any of that and neither did she as he reached up to brush his hand over their son's blonde hair. So much like his and, god, there was so much of his father in James. He reached out and slid his arm around her again and Sharon moved back in against his side, slipped her arm behind him, hand resting against the middle of his back. Smiling up at him in silent understanding as his lips pressed against her forehead and her fingers tightened against his shirt, pressing against him a little. It was all still out there, it wasn't going away, and they'd deal with it. But the former Agent 13 didn't think anyone would begrudge a little boy his Best Day, Ever when he finally got to meet his father. Or begrudge them a few minutes of their own. “Let’s see what comes next together,” Steve said softly and she leaned her head over against his shoulder, lifting her free hand up to James and taking his hand. That small little hand that seemed to get bigger every day. He was still so little, but he was growing so fast. "That's the idea," Sharon answered equally as softly and with a smile for James before turning that smile on the man next to her. "We were always pretty good at that, tackling things together," she reminded him, though he probably hadn't forgotten any more than she had. Sometimes it had been easy, sometimes they'd fought their way through it with each other as much as whatever or whoever else they were facing. But, when she'd let them be, they'd always done it together, "We've just expanded the team a little." "That's me, right?" James asked hopefully, and definitely excitedly, and she let out a soft laugh, fingers squeezing his smaller ones. "The expanded?" "Yes," she confirmed with something closer to a grin. "That's you." Their team, because they'd always been that, hadn't they? More importantly their family, for all the things that would come next. |
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| Steve Rogers | Dec 11 2014, 01:06 AM Post #24 |
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The Man Behind the Shield
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That was a kiss worth waiting for. Maybe even worth taking a punch to the jaw for, though Steve certainly wasn’t about to complain when this one didn’t receive that same kind of premature termination. There was only Sharon, and she’d agreed to marry him, and the kiss that sealed that agreement was everything. But it still ended, and when it did, there was more again. It wasn’t only them, after all - there was their son to share this moment too, and Steve didn’t pause, but turned to scoop him up into his part in this moment. The best day ever. Well, he wasn’t sure if he knew everything he was feeling right now, thinking about this day, but the parts that he was sure about still included the quiet certainty that in this room, united with Sharon and their son, there was a truth to that. James bright hair, and his smile, Sharon slipping in to stand with them, hand at his back, holding on to him every bit as tightly as he was holding her. Whatever else, he had a family. His family. And so they could see what happened next together. Sharon leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder, but taking hold of James’ hand, completing their circle. “That’s the idea,” she answered, looking from her son up to him as Steve met her smile with one of his own. He’d thought he remembered every single line and inch of her face, but she was even more beautiful than the image that had been in his memory all these years. “We were always pretty good at that, tackling things together," she reminded him. “We were,” Steve agreed, smiling just a little more before he had to add, “when you let me.” But here she was, and she wasn’t running. “We’ve just expanded the team a little,” Sharon added, which had the boy at his shoulder perking up all over again. “That’s me, right?" James asked hopefully, and definitely excitedly, and she let out a soft laugh, fingers squeezing his smaller ones. Steve grinned, pulling them both in a little closer to him, as his son made sure of that detail, ”The expanded?” “Yes,” [Sharon] confirmed with something closer to a grin. "That's you.” Steve nodded in agreement. “You-“ he was just beginning to tell the little boy when a short, uneven knock sounded at the door, cutting him short. “Hey- um. Sharon? It’s me,” said a voice from the other side. Female, and unfamiliar, but sounding… scattered, might be the word. Tired, and certainly nothing like happy. “I guess I fucked up and couldn’t remember whether I was coming to you,” the woman’s voice continued, as Steve paused, giving Sharon a look of query, “but- um. Yeah. Here now, for kidlet time. Yeah.” “Aunt Bacon!” Before Steve had managed to figure out what was going on, James had twisted neatly out of his hold, leaping from his shoulder (and making an impressively neat landing on the floor) and dashing toward the door to usher this new visitor into the room. “Aunt Bacon, you were right!” he repeated, full of excitement. ‘Aunt Bacon’ turned out to be a brown-haired woman a little younger than Sharon, with red-rimmed eyes and a puffiness to her cheeks that suggested she might have been scrubbing away tears very recently. Steve didn’t know her, or he didn’t think he did, but there was something… almost familiar. As though perhaps he should have. She didn’t seem to look further into the room than James, but leaned down toward him when he neared, slowing as he drew closer. “…are you okay?” the little boy asked, losing his excitement momentarily and giving over to earnest concern. |
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| Jessica Jones | Dec 12 2014, 01:24 AM Post #25 |
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Original Coma Girl
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Where were you when you found out that Peter Parker died? That was going to be the question, wasn’t it? It was that kind of question. Jessica was already pretty sure she was failing it, though. She… wasn’t sure. Only a few fucking minutes, it couldn’t have been more than that, and already, she wasn’t even fucking sure. She’d been with Natasha, in the brig, after they’d heard about Tandy and Ty. Locking up Tony Stark, and watching the Black Widow and what passed as a reaction to that. She’d… …Pepper must have told her. Or Candy. Someone must have told her, but that part was one thick fog, except that she’d remembered she’d agreed to look after James for Sharon, so she’d gotten up, and she’d walked out, and that was what she was going to do now. She’d do that job, while Sharon did her best to figure out some way to tell Steve Rogers about everything that had happened in five years. Including his posthumous out-of-wedlock son. Division of labor. Usefulness. All those things. Peter was dead. Peter was fucking dead. That wasn’t supposed to happen. That had never actually happened, had it? Useful, though. She was going to be useful, because people needed her to be useful. James probably needed her to be useful, or at least Sharon definitely did. So there, there’s her door, Jessica Jones. You’re going to knock on it. You’re going to pull your shit together, and you’re going to knock on it - no, you’re going to rub all the tears off your face again, just to be sure you got them all, then you’re going to knock on it, and announce yourself. There. like that. “Hey- um. Sharon? It’s me,” she said, forgetting to name herself, but fuck it. It was probably obvious all the same. “I guess I fucked up and couldn’t remember whether I was coming to you,” or how that had been supposed to work, “but- um. Yeah. Here now, for kidlet time. Yeah.” And yeah, maybe it wouldn’t sound like it right this instant, but she’d pull herself together for that. That was just what was going to happen. “Aunt Bacon!” The door slid open, and most of what Jessica saw (through eyes that weren’t really feeling like noticing anything right now) was James darting across the room toward her. Grinning like a kid who’d just found that Christmas and Halloween had got bundled together to save space. “Aunt Bacon, you were right!” he repeated, full of excitement. Oh god, thought Jessica Jones, bending down as Sharon’s little boy got nearer. What the fuck had she been right about? And what the hell could she have been right about that would make someone, even James, smile like that? Not that she was going to complain, because you’d have to be a fucking tool - more of a fucking tool - to complain about being in the crosspath of a smile like that. Even if it was fading, the nearer James got to her, turning over to a worried look she wished like hell had been unfamiliar from that little boy. “…are you okay?” James was already right next to her, putting one little hand on her forearm, then not even waiting for an answer, but hugging her carefully. Jessica hugged him back, quickly, then drew back. “Better for that, Kid,” she told him. “Thanks.” And yeah. It was about right then that she looked up properly, and finally realized that Captain America was standing in the middle of the room, staring at her. In workout gear, and with his arms around Sharon, yes. But… Captain America. In the middle of the room. Staring at her, while she looked like a crazy person, hugging his son. ….had he already met his son? What the fuck was she doing here? “Oh fuck,” said Jessica, trying to make herself stop looking at him. Looking around him, at Sharon. That was what she was doing. “Sorry. I can… leave. Fuck. Thing. You know. Not be here.” Oh fucking god. She’d just fucking walked in on Sharon’s fucking reunion with Steve. And Captain America was standing there in trackpants. Oh god. Even by her own incredibly low standards… oh fucking god. |
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| Sharon Carter | Dec 12 2014, 06:31 PM Post #26 |
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He Who Hesitates Is Toast
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Together. A team. They'd always been a good one, hadn't they? Agent Carter and Captain America. Steve and Sharon. Fighting next to him, being by his side, that was something she'd dreamed about, remembered, even in the darkest days. When she'd shed her idealism, what innocence she'd had left, like a worn out skin. As a matter of survival. That had still been what she'd held onto when she let everything else go. Through all the time she'd been sure she hadn't meant to him what he'd meant to her. That she never had, because he'd left her there. Hadn't come to her rescue when SHIELD cut her loose. When she'd finally let him in again, stopped running and let down the walls of ice she's built up to freeze everything out, especially him. In the days and months after she'd lost him, and knew she'd have to have something to hold onto while she tried to navigate a completely different life. One with this tiny, amazing, terrifying little person who was completely and utterly dependent on her. “We were,” Steve agreed, smiling just a little more before he had to add, “when you let me.” Blonde brows lifted slightly but she was still smiling. When she let him. No, no matter how much she loved him, it still wasn't always easy. Today was proof enough. But they were here, and their son was here, and this was what she wanted. This expanded team and, yes, James was the expanded part. Sharon assured him of that as she squeezed their little boy's hand and he smiled happily from his father's shoulder and Steve grinned in a way that made her miss all that lost time all over again. Her family. Their family. Steve was quick to nod his own agreement. “You-“ he was just beginning to say, cut off by a quick knock at the door. Who-? “Hey- um. Sharon? It’s me,” JJ called from the other side of the door. JJ, god, she'd been waiting on her to bring James, hadn't she? “I guess I fucked up and couldn’t remember whether I was coming to you,” the woman’s voice continued, as Steve gave her a questioning look, “but- um. Yeah. Here now, for kidlet time. Yeah.” She sounded a little harried, but no wonder. James didn't waste any time in answering with an enthusiastic, "Aunt Bacon!", not giving her a chance as he jumped down and ran for the door, pulling it open. “Aunt Bacon, you were right!” he repeated, full of excitement as Sharon put her own apologies on hold to turn toward Steve again. "I was supposed to take James down to her," she explained, smile amused and a little wry. "She was going to watch him, while we did all this." Or that'd been the plan. One of many she'd made today that'd gone completely off the rails. "JJ, god, I'm sorry-" the former agent turned to apologize, words cutting off as her brows knit into a frown of concern for her friend. Who'd been crying. Even if it hadn't been for the red eyes and slight puffiness, JJ was never as good at hiding that as she'd have liked to have been. “…are you okay?” James asked, spotting the tell tale signs, too, and not waiting for an answer before he started hugging her. JJ gave him a return hug, then pulled back. “Better for that, Kid,” she told him. “Thanks.” James nodded, reaching for her hand and still looking concerned. "You're welcome, Aunt Bacon." "Jessica?" Sharon began, her own concern showing through for her friend, even if she had nearly had to run her over with a flying car not that long ago. Then JJ looked up and apparently realized there was an extra person in the room. “Oh fuck,” said Jessica, tearing her eyes away from Steve and planting them on her. Funny how many times she'd seen that reaction over all the years she'd known Steve, but usually he was at least wearing the uniform. “Sorry. I can… leave. Fuck. Thing. You know. Not be here.” Sharon shook her head, waving it away with a quick, negligent wave of her free hand and an apology of her own. "I know, but you're fine." Or she wasn't, but she knew JJ and it wouldn't be anything she'd want to talk to in front of Steve, "My fault, I'm sorry. I was about to bring him down when we got distracted." Her head jerked Steve's way and she turned a slightly wry smile his way briefly. "He's my dad," James informed her, with a return of at least some of his enthusiasm, face turned up to JJ's and smiling so happily and brightly Sharon was surprised he didn't glow. "JJ, Steve Rogers," Sharon began, using that as a spring board for introductions, or re-introductions, as she looked from the brown haired woman then back to SteveJ. "Steve, Jessica Jones. I think you've met before." It'd been a while and she knew JJ probably wouldn't think he'd remember, and god knew she'd just turn and bolt down the hall if she gave her half a chance. She knew that look. |
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| Steve Rogers | Dec 14 2014, 12:45 AM Post #27 |
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The Man Behind the Shield
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Okay. His son was calling a woman Aunt Bacon. No one seemed to be batting an eyelid, including the thus designated ‘Aunt Bacon’ herself, who (Steve was at least a little surprised to discover) turned out to be a young, brown-haired woman whose face bore the unmistakeable marks of tears very recently scrubbed away. That was… not exactly what he’d expected. “I was supposed to take James down to her,” Sharon ‘explained’ when he turned to look at her, which was an answer to the question ‘Aunt Bacon’ (that couldn’t really be her name - could it?) had been asking from the other side of the door, but still left a lot of his own lingering. “She was going to watch him, while we did all this.” Oh. Yes. That… was that why she’d looked so surprised, when he’d first walked in on her and James here? “JJ, god, I'm sorry-“ Sharon had started to say, when their son interrupted, laying his little hand right on the brown-haired woman’s forearm. “…are you okay?” Steve watched the little boy not wait for an answer, feeling confusion rapidly being replaced by a surge of pride in seeing his son not hesitate to give a hug that was very clearly much-needed. Aunt Bacon (it really couldn’t be her name) returned that hug, before pulling back. “Better for that, Kid,” she told him. She did look a little steadier, Steve thought. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome, Aunt Bacon.” Steve had to work to keep his smile from being too obvious. Sharon had raised an amazing boy, though clearly this wasn’t the time to mention it. Not with… Aunt Bac- “Jessica?” Sharon began, sounding worried herself, though she was taking a minor weight off Steve’s mind with the knowledge that there was a name for this brown-haired, tear-stained woman other than the one that James seemed so fixed on. Jessica. Jessica. It didn’t really ring any bells - was he imagining that she seemed almost familiar? Or was it just the horrified, raccoon-in-headlights look that she was giving him, now that she seemed to have stopped her focus on James and noticed him in the room? It was an expression Steve had wished more than once that he could have been a little less familiar with. Though maybe, after what he’d been for five years he should definitely excuse people - even people who were clearly friends of Sharon - from looking at him like an unexpected ghost had come walking in their world. “Oh fuck,” said Jessica, looking around him in a way that almost had Steve looking down, just to check that he hadn’t happened to lose his clothes entirely, or something else to cause that kind of averted gaze, “Sorry. I can… leave. Fuck. Thing. You know. Not be here.” Alright… clearly he was going to have to do a little work again at getting used to the idea of women who swore like five-star-generals, Steve noted, turning to look toward Sharon, since hers was very clearly the opinion on this that ‘Jessica’ (Jessica Bacon? He hoped not) was seeking. She was shaking her head though, looking not at all surprised by this turn of events - or phrase. Did ‘Aunt Bacon’ always speak like that around James? Even Patton had made some effort if he couldn’t avoid being in the presence of children… though yes, it was a different world, as he’d learned more than once. “I know, but you're fine.” That was rather obviously a polite fiction, but it seemed to Steve that it made Jessica a little easier in herself, so that was probably a good thing. “My fault, I'm sorry. I was about to bring him down when we got distracted.” “I have been told I can be that,” Steve murmured quietly, as he met the half smile Sharon had turned his way. She was going to marry him. He’d nearly forgotten that, with the events of the last minute, but now it came back, tilting up the corners of his mouth into a smile of his own. This time he’d managed to distract her into marrying him. That had been a very good thing. “He’s my dad," James informed Jessica while that was happening, and as Steve looked back, he couldn’t help but notice how much more natural she seemed when her attention went back tot he little boy. “You know, I can see that,” she informed James, and it looked like maybe there was the very barest hint of a smile hovering there on her lips as she added, straight-faced in the face of his beaming smile, “You ever been told you look just like him?” To Steve’s bemusement (maybe not that. He couldn’t find a word for the feeling that came along with hearing that) James beamed a little more to hear that, before nodding earnestly. “Uhuh. You know that too.” But as Steve watched the brown-haired woman’s lip start to quiver, his son seemed to catch on, leaning up to look at her more closely. “Was that a joke, Aunt Bacon?” he demanded, then after she nodded, a slightly deflated, “Oh. Okay.” Jessica put her arm around his shoulders then, ruffling his hair. “You do though, Kid. Promise.” “JJ, Steve Rogers," Sharon began, taking what seemed to be the opportunity the presented to slip an introduction in before James and Jessi- JJ? could go on again, “Steve, Jessica Jones. I think you've met before.” Jessica Jones. Steve frowned for a moment, mostly in reflex to the suddenly wary look that had come into the brown-haired woman’s eyes at that last comment. Jessica Jones. Jessica… oh, he knew she’d looked familiar. Picture the hair the color that Rachel’s had been, and… “I remember you,” he said, trying to smile a little to put her at her ease. It didn’t seem to work. In fact, if anything, it seemed to make Jessica look more wary. Still, he’d placed her now. The one who’d been caught up in mind control, who’d ended up having to recover from being on the wrong end of a punch from Thor before that had been sorted out. Carol’s friend. Yes, he was sure that was her. Her codename had been… “…Jewel, right?” Remembering that didn’t seem to break any ice either. “Not anymore,” the brown-haired woman said quickly. Odd… you would have thought she’d prefer that to Aunt Bacon, but he could take a hint, and this one had been quite clear, so Steve only nodded, as she relaxed enough to add, “Jessica’s fine. JJ, I guess, if you want to fit in with the crowd.” There was another look hovering at the end of that sentence. The kind of hesitation people got into when they were mentally debating whether or not they needed to call him Sir. “Steve,” he said quickly, hoping to forestall that with Jessica, at least. He’d definitely had more of that than he really would have liked from Blowfly today. No more, if he could avoid it. |
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| Jessica Jones | Dec 14 2014, 11:16 PM Post #28 |
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Original Coma Girl
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Fuck. Fucking fuck. Fucking-Captain-America-in-fucking-sweatpants-fuckfuckfuck. And she’d just barged on in and started a conversation with his surprise secret kid while he was standing there. Fuck. Fuck. “Jessica?” Sharon began, sounding worried, probably because right now she must look like she’d had some sort of fucking stroke. Jessica actually wasn’t sure that she hadn’t. Slurred speech, that was what you had to watch out for, right? If starty, stoppy, incomplete sentences and inability to remember words counted for that? Yeah. Stroke. It might actually be this time. Hello, Coma #3. Please come now, and get her out of this, stumbling over her words while trying to apologize for barging in while trying to will herself to be a teleporter while Captain America was standing there, staring (politely, but still staring) at her. In sweatpants. Somehow, that made it worse. And Sharon was just standing there, looking calm and in-stride-taking, waving her hand like this somehow wasn’t a think. “I know, but you're fine.” Fine? Fine? Fine for her, and her… her… gah, even in her head, the words were failing now. Even there. “My fault, I'm sorry. I was about to bring him down when we got distracted.” Oh god. Oh god, she was giving a significant look, like there was any possible doubt of what she could have meant. And she was calling Captain America a distraction. Was this how Sharon was when she was happy? “I have been told I can be that,” he said, but Jessica tried to block that out. This was so above her clearance. Her own personal mental clearance. So above. So above. “He’s my dad," James informed her though, grinning like he’d huffed something really really good, and thank god, giving her something she could actually cope with focusing on. Jessica quirked one eyebrow just a little, pretending to scrutinize the upturned little face. “You know, I can see that,” she told him, and god, wasn’t that the fucking understatement of the century? Now she’d seen them in the same room (the same room that she should never have fucking been in, because she had no business, no business being here, especially with her head where it was right now, but no panicking, because this was James, and she could at least manage to hold most of her shit together for that little boy), there was no fucking doubt. Except maybe whether Sharon had been lying about those clone questions after all. God. Fuck. Look at him. (James, that was.) Sweetest, happiest little kid ever. He was asking to be teased, wasn’t he? “You ever been told you look just like him?” Jessica asked, feeling - beyond all fucking belief though it was - a smile that she had to hide while she looked at him, trying to make it look like a real question. Only every single day of his life. But it made him grin even wider for a second (well, couldn’t blame him for that. What little boy wouldn’t want to hear he looked just like Captain America?). “Uhuh. You know that too,” he informed her, as if he was concerned she might have forgotten hearing ‘Aunt Jacqui’ fifteen times a day. Jessica did her best to keep her face straight through that, but the smile snuck in a little too much, and then James gave way to a little bit of four year old suspicion. “Was that a joke, Aunt Bacon?” Game up. She nodded, then felt bad for all of it when he deflated a little. “Oh. Okay.” Jessica put her arm around his shoulders then, ruffling his hair. “You do though, Kid. Promise.” Cloning. Seriously. They were going to talk about it later, she and Agent Carter. Yes they were. Sometime when the original version wasn’t standing there in sweatpants. Being… alive. “JJ, Steve Rogers," Sharon began, which signalled that the time of being able to get away with pretending that James was actually the only one in the room was over again, didn’t it? Fuck. “Steve, Jessica Jones. I think you've met before.” Jessica tried to shoot her a Look. Not very successfully though, because it was hard to send a covert look around someone who was standing right in front of you, and right next to your covertee. Met before? Yeah, they’d met before, but he wasn’t going to remember… “I remember you,” he said, smiling an All-American smile, and looking genuine. He was lying, right? Politely lying, because that was what you had to say when someone told you you’d remember things. Oh god, no… he seemed to be actually trying to remember something. Oh god, no. No. Fuck. He did remember, didn’t he? He was standing right there, Captain America in sweat-pants, and he was looking at her, and he was thinking of her as Coma Girl. Again. “…Jewel, right?” Jessica felt her whole body go tense, but did her best to hide it. “Not anymore.” Get that right out there. Right out there. She was not still trying to be that person. That person he was remembering as a complete fucking disaster failure who hadn’t even tried. No, okay, that part was her, that was her crazy. Put that piece of crazy away girl, and try to be a normal human being. Even you can manage that for a whole ten seconds, right? “Jessica’s fine,” she managed to say. Managed to say without it being completely stiff and robotic, so that was something. “JJ, I guess, if you want to fit in with the crowd.” Even if she hated it. She’d lost that battle years ago. Might as well cede it ahead of time now. And he… did he want her to say something else? Fuck, should she have added a Sir on that? “Steve,” he prompted. Right. Yeah. Okay. “…Steve,” Jessica repeated, kind of making it into a nod of greeting, before she moved into the more comfortable ground of looking at Sharon. Who still didn’t seem to have pulled a gun on her for having interrupted. Was she feeling okay? “Seriously. You want me to come back later?” Jessica asked, eyes darting from her friend to the door, before more reluctantly going back to Sharon again. “I can get out of your hair.” Then go and start smacking herself in the forehead some more for all of this. Fuck. |
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| Sharon Carter | Dec 15 2014, 06:13 PM Post #29 |
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He Who Hesitates Is Toast
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Of course he'd been told that. She'd told him that, Sharon was positive, many more times than just once. The former Agent 13's smile softened at the edge all the same when Steve turned her way. He was alive. Steve was alive, standing next to her as if he'd never left. She was going to marry him. And they were making JJ uncomfortable, weren't they? This whole thing was making JJ definitely uncomfortable and Sharon did her best not to roll her eyes at her friend, and to hide her amusement (it was Steve, she knew he'd be showing up; hadn't she been the one telling her to go an get him? All of it? Now she was surprised that she'd listened?), while James picked up the slack. Announcing that that was his father. Proudly. Happily. It brought a different sort of smile to Sharon's face. Had her tightening the arm still at Steve's back a little more as she turned her head toward slightly toward him again. To see what he made of it. Of JJ and James, as Jessica teased their son and he fell for it the way he almost always did. Sweetly and sincerely. Had he realized yet what an exceptional little boy they'd made together?. He'd get used to the swearing from JJ (yes, she knew he'd noticed; he was Steve Rogers, he couldn't not notice). JJ would get used to Captain America and maybe stop looking at him that way. Maybe. That look? That was exactly why she'd volunteered to be Steve's SHIELD liason, despite the fact they'd barely been on speaking terms at the time. He hadn't needed one that looked at him that way. Then, just so JJ didn't get too comfortable and before she could grab James and run back out the door like Sharon knew her friend wanted to do, she hustled them into introductions. They'd met before and, yes, she was ignoring that look that was directed at her, too. Completely. She was smiling in complete unconcern at that look. She might think Steve wouldn't remember. Actually, knowing JJ, she would probably hope he didn't, but then she didn't know him that well. He frowned thoughtfully for a few seconds while JJ probably tried to will him not to remember. “I remember you,” he said, right on cue. “…Jewel, right?” Oh god. Alright, maybe she hadn't counted on him remembering that Well, she'd apologize to JJ later. Trying to run her over with a flying car was enough for one day, so she owed her that much. “Jessica’s fine,” she managed to say without flailing all over the place after being hit with the 'Jewel' thing out of the blue twice in one day. “JJ, I guess, if you want to fit in with the crowd.” There was a leading pause and...oh good god, she wasn't. JJ, her friend, was not about to start calling him 'sir' was she? That she'd seen hundreds of times, too, but really? JJ? Sharon shot her a 'don't even think about doing that' look this time, pursed her lips and tried not to facepalm. This time, she couldn't quite stop the eyeroll, though. God. “Steve,” he prompted, thank god, even if JJ still seemed to be stumbling over that idea. Maybe she should make sure the other woman was actually as okay as she was trying to be before she let her take off again. “…Steve,” Jessica repeated, with a nod before her friend turned her attention back to her, at least looking more like JJ was supposed to look when she did that. “Seriously. You want me to come back later?” Jessica asked, eyes darting from her friend to the door, before more reluctantly going back to Sharon again. “I can get out of your hair.” Briefly, Sharon turned her eyes questioningly to Steve again. As much as she knew he probably wanted more time with James, and vice versa, there was a lot more they needed to talk about, without their son in the room. It'd be easier for both of them, she thought, to go ahead and deal with all the things hovering on the sidelines. She knew Steve well enough that she thought they'd be of the same mind about that. It might not be quite duty before everything else anymore, but the duty was still there. They both understood that and, yes, she knew Steve well enough and for long enough to know he couldn't keep it all at bay forever. "No, we've had time to work some things out," Sharon answered, turning back to her friend with that reassurance and sliding her palm lightly over Steve's back once before slipping away, at least briefly, to cross to James and JJ. "If you're up to it," she added, more of a question as she looked the brown haired woman in the eyes seriously and still with some concern. She'd definitely been crying. Was it just a bad patch in the middle of all of this? Something else? "I think it'd be better for James to go with you for a while. We've got other things to go over." Things Steve would need some space to deal with without having to worry about James watching from the sidelines. James, who was frowning now and looking more than a little torn between wanting to stay here, with the father he was just getting to know, and going with his Aunt Bacon, who could probably use his company if she her guess was on the mark. "We'll come get you later," Sharon assured her son, smiling down at him and crouching down so they were more eye level. Always such a good little boy, he just nodded. Maybe a little reluctantly, but he wasn't going to argue. "Dad'll still be here?" he asked, those blue eyes so much like Steve's flickering to his father for a second. Still unsure he'd get to keep what he wanted so much. God, how long would it take before he wouldn't worry about that? "He'll still be here. We both will," she promised him, then drew him in for a tight hug, those familiar little arms slipping around her neck and hugging her back just as tight. Held onto him as long as he'd let her before he squirmed back, smiling again now. "Can I tell Aunt Bacon?" he asked excitedly and Sharon didn't have to ask what he meant. It was pretty easy to guess as she glanced back over her shoulder and sent an amused smile to Steve, then nodded at their son. "You can tell her, it's not a secret, I don't think." Not when there was an excited almost five year old running around, bursting at the seams. He was so good about so many things, including the secrets he'd had to keep all these years, but he was still a little boy, and some things were just too much to expect him to keep to himself. James flashed her as big a grin as she'd ever seen on his face, then darted around her and raced over to his father to say his temporary goodbyes. Sharon stood again, looking back to JJ. "Not one damned thing went the way I planned," Sharon told her friend with no small amount of bemusement. "But I only punched Steve once, so it could've been worse." |
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| Steve Rogers | Dec 16 2014, 09:48 PM Post #30 |
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The Man Behind the Shield
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He might only get one chance at this. Timing was essential, of course, and - definitely an overlooked factor in many battles - luck too. Hitting on just the right combination of factors. Only one thing to do, and that was to take the offensive, as quickly as possible, stepping out in front of it. Thankfully, though, Steve had the benefit practice on his side in this fight. He’d learned to smell a Sir coming from seconds away, and he saw it forming on Jessica’s lips - maybe even before she’d thought of it herself. He managed to get in there himself in time, putting forward his name, before she had time to use the unearned title. Steve. He’d be Steve. That was all he needed to be. Then came the inevitable seconds of waiting, trying to see whether the gambit had paid off. Trying not to look as though he’d noticed the faces Sharon was making beside him, since he didn’t imagine that it would help if he did. Though if this went on much longer… “…Steve,” Jessica [finally] repeated, which was better than he’d been starting to expect. She even went as far as to give something that might have been a polite nod before apparently retreating into giving Sharon all her focus. “Seriously. You want me to come back later?” Jessica asked, eyes darting from her friend to the door, before more reluctantly going back to Sharon again. “I can get out of your hair.” Hard to tell if she meant that as a coded offer to take James as per whatever original arrangement she’d made with Sharon, or just a request (only a few shades from panicked) for permission to bolt out of the room. Steve found it hard, anyway, and as it rather obviously hadn’t been his opinion the brown-haired woman was seeking, he turned to Sharon. And found her looking at him, eyes raised in question. She, at least, he could still read. More easily, anyway - especially because he’d seen this look on her. Torn between her feelings and her duty. Debriefing him, like she’d promised to do when she’d shown him to the room where he’d showered, or keeping this time to be with their son. He’d seen enough - both in DC, and in the holes in what accounts he’d gotten so far - to know that those two things had to be mutually exclusive. Things she’d rather not speak of in front of a four year old. Duty, or feelings. Not the first time they’d had to delay the latter an account of the former. Not even the fiftieth. And better to do it now, instead of keeping stumbling through a half-dark of partial information. All of that was true, and so - though it was harder, even harder than he’d expected it to be - Steve nodded briefly, holding her eyes. They had the rest of their lives to be together, and to be a family. The rest of their lives, he reminded himself - that, too, took more effort than part of him thought it should have, as another part tried its damnedest to pull him into digging in and refusing to part with a moment of happiness in case it disappeared again. No. No. He wouldn’t let the time in the rooms with the white walls make him think like that. He wouldn’t give in to that kind of fear and half-life. There would be time. They would make sure of it. “No, we've had time to work some things out," Sharon answered, turning back to her friend with that reassurance, her hand a warm presence at his back, reassuring in its solidity, even though she moved away then, walking to join James and Jessica near the door. “If you're up to it," she added, more of a question as she looked the brown haired woman in the eyes seriously. "I think it'd be better for James to go with you for a while. We've got other things to go over.” Was this woman up to it? If Steve had been asked to judge on nothing but a stillshot of her appearance, he would have said there was no way, but she seemed, though not exactly composed, at least steady as she met Sharon’s gaze. “Yeah, can do,” she replied in a bland voice that wasn’t exactly encouraging. Though there did seem to be a little more animation - self-deprecating, but life - as she continued, “Holding my shit together is Item Zero on the afternoon agenda Pepper gave me. Not fucking her around on that, I know better.” Then he thought she mouthed something to Sharon - a single word, maybe - but whatever it was, Steve couldn’t see enough to catch its meaning. Moving from that, Sharon went to their son. Their son, and their son’s frown, in which Steve thought he was reading threads of conflictedness, and some worry. ”We’ll come get you later," Sharon assured the little boy, crouching down in front of him and offering a smile which had always made Steve feel like the luckiest man on earth when it had been turned on him (it wasn’t one that all that many people got to see). It turned out, it felt even luckier than that to witness her showing that smile on his son. Their son. “Dad’ll still be here?" he asked, glancing across the room to where Steve was still standing, fixed to the spot by a lingering failure of decision. Where it came to that question though, he didn’t hesitate, nodding firmly. “He’ll still be here. We both will," [Sharon] promised him, for both of them, then hugged him. Tightly, Steve could tell. Tightly, and as long as she could before James was ready to be released and wriggling away. “Can I tell Aunt Bacon?” This time, Sharon sent her smile his way. Steve didn’t have to think to return it. That was simply an automatic reflex. She… she’d said yes. She’d said she’d marry him. And she was nodding now, to James. “You can tell her, it's not a secret, I don't think.” “Tell me what?” asked Jessica Jones (who he would do his best not to think of as Jewel, if it she was as averse to that as she’d seemed). But James, to whom that question had been directed, wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he darted away, coming at Steve, who crouched down to greet him as he drew near, a determined look in his eyes. “You are going to be here, right? You promise?” “I’m not going anywhere without the two of you. You and your mother.” Steve held his arms out, inviting the little boy to step in to a hug that he was pleased beyond measure to find returned without delay, two small arms not quite flinging themselves around his neck and closing fiercely. He raised one hand to James’ head, stroking the blonde hair, while hugging him close with the other. “I promise, son.” And he would do everything he had to make sure he kept that promise. Now that he knew… it would be everything. “Now, do you think you might be able to do something for me?” Steve asked a moment later, carefully pulling back (or doing his best - Sharon hadn’t been exaggerating that the little boy was stronger than he looked), till he could see the gleam of excited curiosity in his son’s eyes. “It’s a mission. I left something in the room across the hallway,” Steve continued, lowering his voice a little into something that might sound just a little conspiratorial, “but I think I might be here for a little while. Do you think you and Aunt… Jessica-“ Bacon was a little too much to manage, while keeping a straight face, “-could go secure it, and be sure to look after it for me until your Mom and I are ready to come find you again?” He’d caught James’ attention. And his curiosity. There was no question of that, but the little boy looked a little puzzled, too, as he tilted his head to one side. “What is it?” “It’s my shield,” Steve told him, and was rewarded by the sight of a pair of blue eyes that grew even wider, turning big with enthusiasm as excitement replaced curiosity. The little boy started to move away almost instantly, but then he paused, turning back to Steve and hugging him tightly again before he moved away once and for all, practically sprinting the short distance across the room to Jessica and Sharon. |
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3:32 AM Jul 11