Monster

Seven

I bought my house right after I got the job with SHIELD and had more money than I knew what to do with. I thought it was what adults were supposed to do. I thought it would be cheaper than renting. In reality, I just didn't understand how to survive in a civilian world. I was a soldier, and before that, I was just a kid. I'd never been given lessons about what to do with my life, and whatever college would have taught me–well, I skipped that. Clara seemed to have a decent grasp of adulthood, but I'd gone off to the army and learned how to identify wounds and hit moving targets with knives.

The SHIELD recruitment was supposed to be my lucky break. I was referred by my Commanding Officer and was one of many to apply. I took pride in having a boringly average government job. I filed paperwork and wrote up reports, despite being trained in medicine. I knew how to shoot a gun, despite not being able to turn it on someone. I knew how to care for weapons, and it did bring me a little thrill when I went in for weekly practice. I could still hit a target on the mark every time. But shooting paper figures was different. I felt sick to my stomach every time I thought about having to use it on a living person. Even to save my own life.

The house was a split-moment decision. Well, as split-moment as it could be to apply for a loan, meet with a realtor, and sign the paperwork. I thought it was the next step I was supposed to take after getting a real job. It was what my parents had done when they finished school. Clara still rented, but that was in New York, and it just made sense for her lifestyle. So I bought a small starter home and lived on my own with no pets or dates or even close acquaintances.

That was the main reason Romanoff and Hill thought it would be best to keep my house. That, and the fact that they no longer had the SHIELD funding, and people might question why I suddenly left my house for no good reason. I'd already established a life there. My neighbors were used to me and never asked questions. I doubted anyone would even notice if Steve walked down the street in his star-spangled uniform.

Thankfully, he wasn't in uniform. Instead, he was sitting at the kitchen table, picking at the wood grains stained by years of regular coffee spills. I stood across the kitchen, leaning against the counter. I watched him for a while. He hadn't spoken much since I handed over the water. I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. My mother always made sure every guest had a drink in their hand.

I'd only seen Steve a few times since he came to work in the Capital. I saw him stalking around the Triskelion from time to time. We just never had a reason to meet before our introduction the week before. This was the first time we'd been alone together.

"So," I said slowly as I gripped the counter behind me and tried to appear more comfortable. Just in case someone was peeking in through the kitchen window. Although I doubted they were close enough to see how awkward we both were with each other. He had his back to the wall in the seat I usually took for myself. He wasn't the least bit relaxed. Like he expected Barnes to come barging in at any moment. "Did I pass Wilson's inspection?" He gave me a short laugh. Some of the tension seemed to drain from him for a moment. He was relieved I'd broken the ice.

"You passed just fine," he replied.

"Am I projecting the gentle energy I'm supposed to? What was it Romanoff called me? Fairy princess?"

"You're doing fine."

"It was a joke, Rogers. Sorry, Steve. I'm not used to being on a first-name basis with Captain America."

"Unfortunately, we'll have to get used to it. Bucky will see right through it if you keep calling me Rogers."

"We can pretend it's a cute pet name." He only smiled.

"What do you prefer to be called? Jo? Jo-hanna? Jo-anna? Or is it Yo-honna? Yo-hanna?"

"You don't have to overthink it. I've been called all of those things, and it doesn't bother me. My family pronounces it Yo-honna, but they're the only ones. Romanoff settled on Jo."