An introverted waitress stumbles into Captain America during Loki's attack on New York. After taking a bullet for him, he lets her go, wondering. She's on the run, but he can't know that. When she meets the Avengers again, escape is all but impossib...
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AMERICA'S POV
Seven o'clock. I have to be ready for eight. I wish Fury would give us more notice with some of these missions. But I can get ready faster than average, at least.
Tonight Steve and I are going to try to find the leader of a big gang in Brooklyn. They've been selling guns under the table for weeks now. If we get him, the whole operation goes down. Fury's been pairing us on missions since I returned as an official member of the team. We work well together for obvious reasons. Tony's too flamboyant for undercover missions, Thor's in Asgard, Bruce is too risky, Clint went home to who-knows-where, and Natasha's always on other missions. It shouldn't be too hard, but we're going to a restaurant and need to blend in. I glance at my reflection.
My dark hair is curled and pinned away from my face with silver clips. I've applied my makeup classically, with bold red lipstick and winged eyeliner. My burgundy dress fits perfectly around my curves and falls to my knees. One might think I'm just out for a night on the town, but I have three knives hidden in my outfit and a handgun and handcuffs in my purse. Just in case. A girl has to be prepared.
"America? You ready to go?" Steve knocks softly on my door.
"Coming!" I grab the clutch and open the door to find Steve in a slim black suit. He looks really, really good. "Hi!" I say brightly.
"You look great," he says, grinning. "I like the dress."
"I thought you would," I reply. I picked out the vintage look specifically for him.
"You're timeless," He says, giving me a kiss. "We need to get moving or we'll miss him."
"All right, let's go." We ride the elevator down to the ground floor.
"Your turn to pick. Which car are we taking?" He asks, nodding to the huge rack of Tony's keys on the wall.
"That one," I say, pointing to the dark blue Pagani Huayra. Sleek and sporty. I've wanted to drive it since saw it in the garage. He nods and snags the keys. "Excuse me sir, but I will be driving the Huayra tonight."
"Will you now?" He teases, holding the keys above my head. If I was wearing heels, I could grab them, but my flats aren't letting that happen.
"Steve!" I whine, giving him puppy dog eyes. He doesn't relent, so I sigh. Fine. I'll get them myself. Within seconds, I've moved over a box, climbed up on it, snatched the keys, and ended up right where I was, smiling triumphantly.
"You win," he acknowledges.
"Hop in, passenger." I wink at him and slide into the driver seat. "We have someone to meet."
The drive goes relatively quickly, especially because Brooklyn isn't far and the car is fast. When I pull up to the restaurant, a valet opens the door for me. He better take care of the car, I think as he drives off to park it. Tony's going to kill me if it gets as much as a scratch. Steve takes my arm and we duck into the small restaurant before any paparazzi can spot us. The hostess leads us to our table, and we both pretend to be absorbed in our menus. I don't like having my back to the door, but I know Steve is keeping careful watch and won't let anything happen to me. Besides, I can take pretty good care of myself.
"See him yet?" I whisper out of the corner of my mouth.
Steve shakes his head. "I don't think he's here yet. Be on the lookout, this guy's dangerous."
"Is it worth ordering? Or do you think he'll just interrupt my salad?"
"Give it a minute, we're ahead of schedule for once."
"Fine. But I am hungry."
"Once we get this guy, we'll go for dinner somewhere else."
I smile. "I don't think I told you how dashing you look tonight."
"Thanks, Mer," he says. He reaches for my hand across the table, and I automatically entwine my fingers with his. His blue eyes shift from me to something behind me, and his grip on my hand tightens. He doesn't need to say anything. The guy must be here. He's going to recognize Steve, I realize. Impulsively, I lean across the table and press my lips to his. I know he's confused, but he kisses me back until I pull away. The gang leader is seated at his table a few down from us, and he didn't notice anything odd. Good.
"Can I ask what was that for?"
"You have a really recognizable face," I whisper. "When mine is on it, no one can see it."
"Ah. Got it." I peek into my purse to make sure my gun is still there, just in case. We don't actually want to use it, but you never know. A little kid approaches our table, and I instantly snap the clutch shut.
"Can you sign this?" The boy asks Steve shyly, passing him a receipt he probably stole from his mom's purse. Steve obliges, glancing around nervously as he does so. I don't miss the fact that the little boy backs away from me. People are starting to take notice of the two of us. Some even have their phones out snapping pictures. The camera flashes spike my anxiety. It makes me feel uncomfortable, exposed. I bite my lip and will myself to stay calm.
"This wasn't part of the plan, right?" I ask quietly even though I know the answer.
"Definitely not," he replies, raking a hand through his hair. To everyone else, he looks perfectly tranquil, but I see beyond that. He's just as worried as I am.
"Is it going to mess us up?"
"Probably," he admits.
"New plan?" I don't really know how to improvise this one.
"Just go with it. Let's try to stick to the original one as much as possible. You better get going."
"Okay." I smile sweetly and stand, pretending to make my way to the bathroom while Steve goes over to the guy's table. The gang leader immediately attacks him, but he has nothing even close to Steve's strength. He wrestles against him, but once Steve gets his arms behind his back, I zoom by, clicking the handcuffs around his wrists before he can even protest. It's over within minutes. And then the police comes in, right on schedule. They take the cursing gang leader away, and I give Steve a high five.
"Ready to go?" He asks me.
"You bet." I glance at the mess we made and address the shell-shocked hostess. "Sorry about that. You can mail the bill to Tony Stark." And we leave without another word. This time, Steve gets the keys to the car, so I slide in and he drives away.
"Aw, Steve, the running messed up my hair!" I complain, smoothing it down.
"It still looks great, doll. Want to go somewhere for dinner?"
"Yeah," I say. "What about that shawarma place Tony likes?"
"Sounds good to me." As he drives, I plug my phone into the audio and pull up the Mamma Mia! soundtrack. "Lay All Your Love on Me" fills the space, and Steve' knows the drill. The two of us part-sing along cheerfully, and we don't sound half bad.
"I wasn't jealous before we met. Now every man that I see is a potential threat!" Steve sings, winking at me. His voice is actually really good. "And I'm possessive, it isn't nice. You've heard me saying that smoking is my only vice."
It's not how I would have imagined life as an Avenger, but I'm okay with that.
I love them as a crime fighting duo, it's really cute. Make sure to vote and comment! Have a great week!
