ACCIDENT | STEVE ROGERS

chapter four ; triumphant belief

The June sun was not forgiving. Ginny enjoyed it for the first couple days, the notion of working in the great outdoors still a novelty. But then the heavy wool uniform became a burden and her poker face grew weaker as the days went on.

The heat did nothing to slow the camp down. Peggy was currently yelling at the platoon across the field, pretending not to enjoy the relentless physical training she got to put them through. Her and Ginny had spent three hour last night gossiping like schoolgirls about how horrendous most of the men were.

Fitzpatrick and Ginny were the only staff members still in their Jeep, having been banished to two hours of paperwork. By their fourth day of working together they'd established themselves as a duo with a knack for being pains in their colleague's asses. The exact words floating around were along the lines of, "like mischievous children, but too useful to be kicked out." Ginny was pleased that her fake identity had been given that honour.

Her legs were propped up on the dashboard of the car and her head lolled over the door. The clipboard that had been attached to her arm for the past week served as an effective tool to fan herself. She'd woken up earlier than the trumpet and snuck in a lengthier makeup routine that morning. As beads of sweat grew on her forehead, she deeply regretted her decision.

"When are we needed?" She said, too comfortable to turn and face Fitzpatrick. The makeshift fan had caught the right angle and the cool breeze was more than welcoming.

"In half an hour. I think we have one more shift of laundry duty left." Fitzpatrick said with an air of nonchalance.

"Wasn't my fault we crashed into the soap cartons." Ginny grumbled.

Fitzpatrick loudly scoffed. "It was your fault for not tightening the canopy before I started to drive."

Ginny lifted her head and flipped him off, to which he grinned. He grabbed her legs and manoeuvred them to rest in his lap, popping his clipboard on top of them. They fell back into their comfortable silence, Ginny humming as she filled out form after form.

"What song is that?" He asked after a moment. She stared at him with narrowed eyes, trying to gauge whether or not he was making fun of her.

"Just something from Swan Lake." She said slowly and tentatively.

Their eyes held contact as he broke into a gentle smile. Slightly crooked and reached all the way to his eyes. "It's nice."

Ginny felt a sensation in her chest and realised it was her heart skipping a beat. She didn't want to look away first. From the way his smile softened, he didn't want to either. Then a booming voice echoed across the fields.

"Grenade!"

Ginny's body twisted so fast it should have snapped in half. She tried to leap forward, but was blocked by two hands stretching around her. Her chest pressed uncomfortably against the car door as Fitzpatrick pinned his body over hers. All she could do is watch helplessly and pray for minimal impact.

She was about to scream when she saw Steve leaping onto the grenade. Her heart flew to her throat as she writhed in Fitzpatrick's arms. She waited for the explosion, but it never came. She waited for the explosion so that she could breathe again.

"It's just a dummy." Fitzpatrick said. He sighed into her ear after the longest minute of her life. He still hovered above her and sounded more relieved than anything else. His chin sat on her shoulder and one hand moved towards her trembling fingers. He slowly retracted himself from her as the world returned to normal, waiting until she settled back against the seat.

Ginny's eyes were unmoving from Steve, who slowly sat up as he realised he hadn't been blown to smithereens. Her heart pounded in her ears as she watched him, blinking rapidly to check that he was still in one piece.