Marvel One-Shots

Staron (Steve + Sharon)

Title: A Date With Technology

Steve Rogers stood in his apartment, staring intently at his smartphone as if it were a foreign object—which, to him, it kind of was.

"Okay, so I just tap this little pizza icon, and it brings pizza to the door?" he mumbled to himself.

"Talking to your phone again, Steve?" Sharon Carter's voice chimed from behind him as she let herself in.

Steve spun around, almost dropping the device. "Sharon! I didn't hear you come in."

She smiled. "Super-soldier hearing failing you?"

"Only when I'm concentrating," he grinned sheepishly. "I was trying to order dinner. Thought I'd give this 'app' thing a try."

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "You know, we could just call them. Or better yet, go out?"

"I wanted to surprise you," Steve admitted. "Last time we went out, I think I accidentally insulted the waiter by asking for a 'soda pop.'"

She laughed. "Well, at least you didn't ask for sarsaparilla."

Steve chuckled. "I'm not that outdated."

He looked back at his phone, which now displayed an array of confusing options. "What's the difference between 'Deep Dish' and 'Stuffed Crust'? And why are there pineapples involved? Oh, it’s here. Got it."

Sharon walked over. "Finally" she sighed in relief.

As they settled on the couch, Steve picked up a remote control with far too many buttons. "Mind if we watch some TV?"

"Go ahead."

He pressed a button, and the room was suddenly filled with the booming voice of a televangelist passionately preaching. Steve jumped.

Sharon stifled a laugh. "Unless you're in the mood for a sermon, you might want to change the channel."

Steve frowned, pressing another button. The screen switched to an infomercial about a revolutionary mop.

"Or maybe you're considering a career in housecleaning?" she teased.

He sighed. "Why are there so many channels? Back in my day, we had—"

"Three channels, I know," she finished for him, grinning.

He handed her the remote. "Maybe you should drive."

She took it and effortlessly switched to a popular sitcom. "See? Easy."

Steve shook his head in amazement. "You handle modern technology like it's nothing."

"Well, I didn't spend 70 years in ice," she winked.

He smiled softly. "Sometimes I feel like a relic."

Sharon placed a hand on his. "You're doing fine. Besides, I think it's charming."

"Charming, huh? Wait till you see me try to use the coffee maker tomorrow morning."

She laughed. "Now that I'd pay to see."

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"That must be the pizza," Steve said, standing up.

He opened the door to find a bewildered delivery guy holding five boxes. "Uh, order for Steve?"

Steve nodded. "That's me. But I think there's a mistake—I only wanted one pizza."

The delivery guy checked his receipt. "Says here you ordered one of every type of pizza, plus extra breadsticks."

Sharon peeked over his shoulder. "Hungry, are we?"

Steve's face turned a slight shade of red. "I must have pressed the wrong buttons."

She laughed. "Guess we're having leftovers."

As they brought the mountain of food inside, Sharon couldn't help but tease him. "You know, for someone who led missions to save the world, you really struggle with simple tasks."

He shrugged, opening a pizza box. "Give me an alien invasion over online ordering any day."

They settled back on the couch, plates full of an unintended pizza buffet.

"You know," Sharon began, "it's these little quirks that make time with you so interesting."

"Glad to keep you entertained," he replied sarcastically.

She nudged him playfully. "In all seriousness, you bring a bit of old-school charm to this crazy modern world."

He looked at her appreciatively. "And you make this modern world feel a lot less overwhelming."

They shared a comfortable silence, the glow of the TV illuminating their faces.

"Besides," she added, holding up a slice of pineapple-topped pizza, "I was curious about the pineapple."

He grimaced. "That's one modern invention I can't get behind."

She took a bite and shrugged. "Your loss."

He watched her with a smirk. "Next time, I'm picking the toppings."

"Next time, I'm teaching you how to use the app properly."

"Deal," he agreed, lifting his soda can. "To mastering modern technology—eventually."

She clinked her can against his. "I'll drink to that."

As they settled in to watch the sitcom, Steve felt a little more at ease. Maybe the future wasn't so bad after all—especially with Sharon by his side.