Rhiley hadn't planned on spending a year at Steve Rogers' place. Really.
It just... happened.
One month turned into three. Three turned into twelve. The guest room slowly morphed into hers — thrift-store record player, tower of books, photos taped to the mirror, a reading chair she claimed like a dragon hoarding treasure. For the first time in her long, chaotic life, she wasn't running. She wasn't hiding. She wasn't saving the world.
She was just living.
Steve kept up his S.H.I.E.L.D. duties. Rhiley kept up her extremely serious position as "freeloader roommate with vibes." A role she excelled at. Tony visited when he could — family bonding was still weird, considering her nephew was technically older than her and also Iron Man — but it was good. Solid.
Stable.
And stable was... nice.
Until Steve decided stability meant exercise.
Which was how Rhiley found herself on a quiet morning in D.C., sitting under a tree with a smoothie while Steve sprinted laps like a patriotic gazelle.
He blew past another runner. "On your left!"
"Don't— don't say it!" the man wheezed.
"On your left!" Steve called cheerfully, lapping him again.
Rhiley sipped her smoothie, delighted. The poor guy staggered to a stop nearby, hands on knees, lungs clearly resigning.
"You think this is funny?" he gasped.
"Extremely."
Steve jogged up, barely winded. "You need a medic?"
"I need a new set of lungs," the guy gasped. "Dude, you just ran, what, thirteen miles in half an hour?"
"Amateur time," Rhiley chimed, deadpan.
The guy looked between her and Steve. "Oh really?"
"I got a late start," Steve added with a modest shrug.
"You should be ashamed," the guy said. "You should take another lap, actually." He paused, then pointed. "Wait—did you just take it? I'm assuming you just took it."
Rhiley laughed.
Steve extended his hand. "What unit you in?"
"Fifty-eight. Pararescue. These days I'm working at the VA." He shook Steve's hand. "Sam Wilson."
"Steve Rogers," Steve replied.
"Yeah," Sam said with a grin, "I kinda put that together. Coming home after everything is probably a strange adjustment, isn't it?"
Steve offered a polite smile. "Yeah, yeah, it is."
Then Sam looked her way.
Rhiley tilted her smoothie in greeting. "Rhiley. Professional avoider of cardiovascular activity."
Sam squinted at her. "So what, you're just moral support?"
"No," Steve said, deadpan. "She's heckling."
Rhiley saluted him with her straw. "It's called balance."
The conversation flowed easily. Sam joked about sleeping on rocks overseas, Steve complained about beds being too soft, and Rhiley sat in the grass like a gremlin queen.
Steve's phone buzzed. He winced.
"Duty?" Rhiley asked.
He gave her a look. Come with me?
YOU ARE READING
Radioactive | Bucky Barnes
Fiksi Penggemar"I want to go back to the time you first told me your name." Rhiley, the twin sister of Howard Stark, finds herself wrapped up with the one and only James Barnes. The next time she sees him is on her new assignment with the 107th Infantry Regiment...
