The White Queen (S.Rogers)

Chapter 51

*Trigger warning: Yeah, you know that warning Ive been giving for blood and violence and stuff like that? Here's one of many reasons why.*

Steve was pouring her a glass of wine, while she finished up her homework, when her phone started to ring. He frowned at it, looking at the time above the stove, before bringing it, and the wine glass over to her. She gave him an apologetic smile, but answered the phone anyway.

"Hello?"

"Queenie, I'm sending a car. Be ready in fifteen." Junior told her, before hanging up.

"Well, stink." She sighed, setting the phone down.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, resting a hand on her shoulder. "And you've gotten number twenty three wrong."
She looked down at the papers of problems she had been working on, scowling. "Goddammit. How the hell did I do that?"

"Orders of operations." Steve tapped the paper. "What was the phone call about?"

"Car is being sent." She stood up. "I've got fifteen minutes to get ready."

Steve sighed, following her as she went into the bedroom, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, mouth pursed in thought, as she knelt by the bed, reaching under for the plastic container she kept her gear in. It wasn't ideal, really, but she didn't have the space or the resources to get a cool set up like Steve must have, at the Tower. Pulling the box out, she put it on the bed, before opening it. Pulling out everything she laid it on the bed, before standing up and going over to the dresser. She opened the top drawer, pulling out a sports bra and a pair of black cotton underwear. It was easier to move in, more comfortable, then the lacy things she normally wore on a daily basis. She changed quickly, pulling on everything with efficient movements, feeling Steve watching her.

"What's up, Buttercup?" She asked, lightly, trying to keep things calm.

"They didn't tell you why they were picking you up?" He asked, shifting his weight.

She shook her head, as she began to put on the body armor. Stark did have a knack, she would grant him. But at the same time, she felt her lip curl at the thought that the billionaire had inadvertently made something to protect her. It left a bad taste in her mouth. But it made Steve incredibly happy to know that she was well protected. She fumbled with the unfamiliar zipper on the side, before it hooked, and she was able to pull it up. Lifting the long sleeved black shirt over her head, she worked the tight material down her body, before slipping her thumbs into the holes at the cuffs. "Steve, I'm sure it's just another meeting. Nothing big has happened in awhile."

"Still." He sighed, bringing up a hand to rub his face. "Make sure you have the button."

"I have the button." She assured him, bending over to poke at the wooden box she had picked up to hold the knives, batons and the panic button that Steve insisted she carry. With the exception of the one time it had been set off by one of Stelluto's men, she had never used it. But it still made him happier to know she carried it with her. "You wanna grab my boots out of the closet for me? As well as the jacket?"

Steve nodded, coming over to kiss the side of her head as he passed her, opening the closet. "You remember your rules?"

"Yes, Steven." She groaned. "I remember my rules. No killing, come home, and leave as much to the authorities as possible. Which is kinda hard, Baby, when you haven't found me someone to trust in said category of 'authority'."

"I'm working on it. Its harder than I thought. Especially finding someone who is willing to work with both the Mafia and someone who technically doesn't exist." He sighed, coming out of the closet, holding her combat boots and her jacket. "This isn't going to be warm enough."