The White Queen (S.Rogers)

Chapter 13

The water boiling was what caused him to allow her to pull away. He could have remained like that, with her in his arms, until the sun burned out. Steve ended up leaning against the counter again, with his arms folded across his chest, smiling like a damn fool, watching as she dumped the noodles into the boiling water, while preheating the oven. He reminded her to stir the noodles, so they didn't clump together, before she turned to him with a small frown.

"What?" He asked, shifting his weight.

"I don't like 'Doll'" She answered, reaching around him for the cutting board and the knife, putting both in the kitchen sink.

"Not 'Doll'." He nodded. "Got it."

"And not 'Baby Girl'." She said firmly.

He scrunched his forehead in confusion. "I've never called you that."

"No." She agreed. "But that's... It's Papa's..." Her voice was soft.

Steve felt his mouth open slightly, in realization. "He called you that."

Brooklyn gave him a sad smile. "If it's all the same to you, according to Sam and Marcus, what we are going to do is going to be weird enough for some people. I would rather not muddy the waters further, by you using his name for me."

Steve shook his head, holding his hands up. "No, no. I agree. It's okay. 'Baby girl' is off the list."

"You have a LIST?" she asked, incredulously. "How can you have a list?"

He smirked leaning over, so that his lips were near her ear. Lowering his voice, mindful of Juliana in the living room, watching TV, he responded, "You have no idea what type of lists I have. Or what's on those lists. But you will. Eventually."

Brooklyn eyed him. "Why does everyone think you are all sweetness and apple pie?"

He gave her the cockiest smile he could conjure up. "It's all an act. How else were they going to let me have my own squad during the war, and get away with some of the shit we pulled?"

Still eyeing him, she threw the premade garlic bread in the oven, hitting the timer. "So, it's all an act? You aren't the sweetheart of Brooklyn?"

Shrugging, Steve leaned forward again, meeting her eyes. "I guess it remains to be seen. Am I your sweetheart, Brooklyn?"

She started laughing. "Oh, okay, that was cheesy!"

He nodded. "Yeah, not my best work."

They fell into companionable silence again as she puttered about the kitchen, pulling out plates, grabbing silverware. Brooklyn bent down and rummaged through a cupboard for a moment, before pulling out a wine bottle. Setting it on the counter, she went rummaging through her drawers again, before pulling out a corkscrew.

Handing it to him, she nodded towards the wine bottle. "You want to do the honors?"

"Are you working tonight?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She snorted. "Nope. Not that the wine would have any effect on me. You gonna open the wine or not, Rogers?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He took the bottle and made short work of opening it. "Glasses?"

Brooklyn waved at one of the cupboards. "Top shelf."

Steve poured them both a glass, as she began testing the noodles. Sipping it, he watched while she pulled one out, and after blowing on it briefly, put it in her mouth. "As long as it's not crunchy, I think its safe to call it done." He advised, sipping the red wine.

She sent him a frustrated look over her shoulder but reached out to pull the pot off the stove, moving towards the colander she had already set up in the sink. He stood ready to step in, as she drained the water, reaching out to snag one of the hot noodles that steamed in the sink. Popping it in his mouth, he nodded. "Pretty damn close." He praised.