The White Queen (S.Rogers)

Chapter 64

Brooklyn sat on Steve's bed, watching the twinkling lights of New York through the window. She had the dress still on, but had taken off her shoes and pulled her hair down, running her fingers through it to ease the ache in her head that she hadn't even known was there, until she released it. The moment she had stepped onto his private floor, she had relaxed. Now, she was waiting for him to return.

She held her phone loosely in one hand, her arms wrapped around her pulled up knees. Her toes tapped against the thick comforter of his bed, occasionally cracking when she moved them. That was something people often forgot, when wearing heels. The amount of time on the ball of your foot could cause your toes to react. In her case, she often felt the need to crack her toes afterwards.

Steve should be back by now, she figured. The Gala was supposed to wrap up about an hour after she left. It had been more than that since she had arrived. Her book, carefully wrapped in it's box and plastic, was currently sitting on the coffee table in the living room area. She wanted to open it, to hold it. But she had a nagging suspicion that would be considered improper.

"Ms. Bianchi, Captain Rogers has instructed me to inform you that he is ten minutes away from arriving at the tower. He expects you to be ready." JARVIS spoke, from out of no where.

Jumping, she looked up at the ceiling, startled. "Dammit, JARVIS! You can't do that!"

"Ms?" JARVIS asked.

"You can't just jump out at me, like that!" She exclaimed, standing up. "You are going to give me a heart attack."

"Your heart rate is fine, Ms. Bianchi." JARVIS informed her. "And I cannot physically jump out of any where."

"Uh huh." Brooklyn snorted, shaking her head. The UI installed in the Tower was cheeky. And as someone who was not used to hearing it, it was a shock to her. How did Steve handle it? The constant knowledge that, at any time, JARVIS would speak to you?

She began to wander around the room a bit, anticipation hitting her. Steve was coming, and she knew that they had not left each other's company on solid footing, at the gala. For all her excuses, she knew he would have something to say about why she demanded he keep his hands to himself. There had been a bit of it that overflowed, in that changing room. Maybe being able to tell him the plan, explaining to him why she needed to play that part a bit longer, had helped, but she was sure there was still going to be fall out from his anger.

She wasn't afraid of Steve's anger. There wasn't anything physically he could do to her that she could either stop, or avoid, or even heal from. It was the knowledge that he would later regret anything he did in that moment that worried her. Her Steve was too emotional sometimes. He reacted, then felt the aftermath. It was one of the things she had come to love about him. His passion for everything in his life. It spilled over into all aspects of everything he did.

The goal now was to calm him down physically, so she could deal with his emotions.

That was one of the reasons why she hadn't already stripped out of the dress. It was a big portion of his anger, right now. That she had worn something so open, to parade herself in front of the men who had attempted to buy and sell her like she was a piece of art, with the price tag to match. It had been fitting, she reflected, that the deal had been made at a silent auction. The biggest auction had been held at a table in the back of the room, by players looked down on by the majority of the rest of the population at the gala. Because God knew, that her price tag far exceeded that of any other object sold in that room that night.

She rubbed her hands together, ignoring the pull of the chains on them, before reaching back and griping her neck, rolling her head until she felt something give in the back of her neck. The resulting relief was welcome. People really didn't know how much holding your body in a certain position or even being chained up like she was, put strain on the body itself.