Steve and Red

The Day He Met Her

The first thing that hit Steve Rogers as he walked into the machine shop was the amount of chaos that seemed to be flying everywhere. The sound of drills running, sparks fizzing as they hit the concrete, the mechanics yelling over each other as they revved engines and swore loudly. It was beautiful.

He carefully wheeled his motorcycle through a maze of tools and pools of oil to the welcoming desk. The man behind it gave him a cursory glance and then returned to watching his phone.

"Excuse me," Steve said quietly, trying to mask his irritation. The man grunted. Steve rolled his eyes and said, "Have a little respect, will you? Mister..." he glanced at the man's shirt to read his name tag, "Murray?" The man named Murray grumbled something and looked up, annoyed.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"Tony Stark sent me," Steve said calmly, though his eyes were narrowed slightly in anger. "He said you guys could help me with my bike." Murray's eyes roamed over the antique motorbike and then back up to Steve's face.

"We don't do antiques, and we ain't doin' Mr. Stark any favors," he said hotly. Steve took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He glared at Murray for a few moments, but the other man refused to be cowed. Finally Steve growled, "Mr. Stark also told me that if you didn't help me, I was suppose to ask for a Rusty Red?"

The mechanic's eyes grew wide.

"Rusty Red?" he gulped. Steve nodded.

"Yes," he said. "That's right." Murray gave Steve another quick once over and finally seemed to recognize him. With a muted gasp of panic he scrambled for the microphone to the PA system.

"Rusty Red, customer at the desk!" he cried nervously. "Rusty Red, there's a customer for you!" He clicked the microphone back into place and then jumped to his feet. "So sorry, Captain, I didn't realize that-,"

"What's all this about?" a young, feminine voice said behind Steve. The man in front of him turned a shade of green. Wordless, he gestured towards Rogers before letting out a half squeal of terror and running for the bathroom.

"Trying to get some service around here," Steve said, watching Murray make his escape. He turned and added "But I was sure that..." he trailed off as he came face to face with a pretty young woman wearing smudged jeans and a greasy gray t-shirt with 'Stark Industries' written on it. Her red-orange hair was pulled back into a French braid, and her cheeks were smudged with car oil. He blinked, completely taken aback. She cracked a smile, lighting up icy gray-blue eyes.

"So, you're Captain America?" she asked, crossing her arms and giving him a good look up and down. He could only nod, at a loss for any type of speech. She laughed. "Tony said he would send you down to see me one of these days. What's the excuse?" She eyed the motorcycle and then looked up at Steve, eyebrow raised in question.

"I...uh..." he stuttered, and then quickly recovering said, "I think it needs a good tune up, is all, and Tony said you were the best...person...in the business..." he was finding it hard to concentrate, watching her as she began to circle him and the bike; she reminded him a lot of Peggy Carter, her step full of confidence, her shoulders set straight. She laughed a little and he snapped a look at her; she was smirking at him.

"Oh, did he?" she said coyly. "What else did he tell you about me?" Steve swallowed nervously and muttered, "Nothing, really. Just that you could help me." Her smile got wider.

"Nervous, Cap?" she laughed. He didn't deign to reply, shrugging off her question instead.

"So can you help?" he asked. She took another look at the bike, then at him.