Man Out of Time - A Captain America / Avengers Fanfiction

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Steve wiped the steam off the mirror and stared at his own reflection.

"What are you doing?"

The reflection didn't answer.

"You're being polite, that's what you're doing. The girl just gave up her Saturday morning to bring you something you had no right to ask her for. The least you can do is buy her a cup of coffee!"

Steve combed his hair and checked his chin for razor stubble. It had only been several hours since he had last showered and shaved. He had no excuse for delaying. It felt as though he had a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. He hadn't felt this jittery around a woman since … since …

"Who am I kidding?" Steve told the reflection. "You asked her for coffee because all you've been doing is thinking about her ever since her grandmother died."

The reflection was kind enough not to remind him he'd also dreamed about Bernice the last three nights in a row. Which was why he'd been shocked to come flying off the still rings he'd been showboating on and find Bernice standing there, watching him. Not that there had been anything … inappropriate … about the dreams. They'd just been … dreams.

'I feel shorter,' Bucky said as a woman gave him a disdainful glare and walked away. He grabbed the beer they'd just both ordered. 'Now I know what it feels like to be you.'

'I don't know,' Steve said. 'It was a lot easier being me when I was still … me.'

'Tell that to THEM,' Bucky said. He nodded towards several dames eyeballing Steve as though he were a piece of meat. Big band music played in the background, GI's from all over the world tearing up the dance floor with the British girls, but there was now an earthy undertone to the music, a sixth band member playing the drums.

A commotion at the entrance to the Stork Club drew their attention. A striking black-haired woman wearing a fitted black tee-shirt and ripped jeans walked in, her attire in stark contrast to the way the other patrons were dressed. She looked lost. Several men approached and asked her to dance, but she waved them off, clutching her art portfolio to her chest as though it were a shield.

'Ex-excuse me,' Bernice asked. 'I'm looking for someone.'

'Well you just found him,' Bucky said, moving into his classic dame-schmoozing pose. 'Can I buy you a drink?'

Bernice gave Bucky a sweet smile. Steve felt a stab of jealousy.

'No thank you,' Bernice said. 'I'm looking for someone special. I was told I could find him here.'

'No one here but me,' Bucky said. 'Would you like to dance?'

'No thank you,' Bernice said. She turned and looked at Steve as though she could see straight into his soul. 'I'm waiting for the right guy.'

Steve's breath hitched in his throat. Her eyes were as dark as the arctic waters he'd been imprisoned in for 67 years, and yet there was warmth. How he wished to crawl back into that dark, quiet place and pretend the drumbeat marring the perfection of the big band, the strange moves the dancing couples added to their jitterbugs, did not exist. These were not Peggy's eyes. They were someone else's entirely. But for the first time in his life, it occurred to him they were a bridge between his time and the strange dance taking place in front of him.

Bernice turned back to Bucky.

'If you find him, will you please tell him that I'm looking for him?'