After multiple run-ins with death and many shocking self-discoveries in the course of a few months, all America Evans wants to do is hide away in Washington with Steve until she finds out who she really is. But life as an Avenger doesn't allow for a...
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AMERICA'S POV
In the next few days, I have more fun than I might have ever had before in my entire life. We go to different beaches, hike nature trails, and check out shops. One night we have a bonfire on the beach and roast marshmallows. Another we spend on a boat, watching the stars. We've learned that if our status as Avengers doesn't get us into a place, being a friend of Tony Stark does. It's such a refreshing change from saving the world and getting shot all of the time. The pressure has been lifted temporarily from my shoulders. No one tries to contact us, and no paparazzi try to follow us. For what might be the first time ever, Steve and I get the experience of being a normal couple having fun in public.
We've been going to all of these different places and were planning to spend tonight in until I saw a sign for a boardwalk pier. I haven't been to one since I lived in Miami, and Steve hadn't since the forties, so that's how we ended up here tonight, strolling down the boardwalk people-watching and eating ice cream to our heart's contents. Steve also won this huge stuffed caterpillar for me, and I won one for him. We were politely asked to leave the game stand because we were too good and most likely would have won all of the prizes.
"Look at the sky!" I say, pointing with my free hand to the sunset. It's beautiful, with streaks of orange and gold stretching on for what seems like forever. "There aren't sunsets like that in New York, let me tell you."
"No, there aren't," he agrees. "This was a really great idea."
"Yeah, it was." I give him a peck on the cheek. "I haven't been to the beach since... I actually don't know. Miami? It's not like I was lounging in a bathing suit when I was there. I was mostly scared out of my wits and working on my American accent."
"I like your real voice," he comments. "You don't need the accent."
I smile, his compliment warming me. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replies.
"We should move to the beach," I say. "Get a cottage, something remote, completely off of the grid."
"Really?"
"No, of course not," I laugh. "I can't imagine a quiet life. I think I'd go crazy. Which is ironic, considering I actually don't like most people."
"I know what you mean, actually." Steve smiles and adjusts his baseball cap. "I've been with this job so long. Tony told me once that I needed to get a life. Get out there, have some fun. I never did. I can't imagine anything other than being a soldier, to be honest. It's what I'm good at. I'll probably be with it for life."
"Me too."
"And to be honest, I've always felt like I needed to be one. When they injected me with the serum, I felt like I couldn't let them down. Back during the war, I knew my job. I knew I was Captain America, that winning the war was my top priority. But once I got out of the ice, I didn't know who I was away from the shield and uniform. So I kept doing it."
"I get that," I say, nodding along. "I guess in a different way, though. I feel like I need to make up for everything I've done wrong. And that's a lot, so I'll probably be here for a while."
We walk back to the house on the beach, but we're in no hurry. It's just nice to spend time together. The ocean washes in, covering our bare feet in a mix of saltwater and sand. I pick up a few pretty shells and almost drop my stuffed caterpillar in the sea, but Steve grabs it, laughing as he does.
I push open the back door and pour myself a cup of ice-cold lemonade. "What do you want to do for the rest of the night?"
He shrugs. "I don't really have a preference. We could just hang out and watch TV. Is that okay with you?"
I brighten at his suggestion. "That sounds great! What do you want to watch? We could keep up with Friends."
"Fine with me. I'll pop some popcorn, you get the remote." I enthusiastically scuttle over to the couch, where I grab the remote and cue up our current episode of our Friends marathon.
"You know, we're already in season nine," I say. "There are only ten seasons. We're almost done with the show. We'll need to find another one to watch."
"I can't believe we're almost done. We've spent months on this." I'm so glad I put it on his list.
"We could just binge-watch every single musical on Netflix. Just saying." I give him puppy dog eyes and he laughs, shaking his head.
"Whatever you say, doll." He brings the popcorn over and I snag some as he sits down. "Play it."
We've gotten through two episodes, laughing nonstop and throwing popcorn at each other when the doorbell rings. I flinch, not having expected it. I raise my eyebrows at Steve, who seems just as on edge.
"No one knew we were here, right? Other than our friends?" I ask, nervous to hear the response.
"Yeah. And I haven't heard from any of them since Sam called on Christmas. They said they would leave us alone for these two weeks."
"So who else could it be?" My question hangs in the air between us, unknown. "What is something happened?"
Wanda and Pietro. The team. Are they all right?
He stands to answer the door, and I follow. I don't miss that he stands in front of me the smallest bit before turning the doorknob.
Standing before us are two men I've never seen before, dressed in official-looking suits and wearing matching serious expressions. Fear courses through my veins at these unfamiliar strangers.
"Captain and Mrs. Rogers?" the taller of the two asks. Steve nods, and I do after a moment. I don't trust this at all. "We need you to come with us."
"Not to be rude, but who the hell are you?" I ask them, a bit of anger in my voice. Steve shoots me a warning glance. Play nice. That's when I notice the pins on their jackets. It's the emblem of the United Nations. I just mouthed off to two UN officials. Oops.
"We are representatives of the United Nations. We need you two to come with us," the second officer repeats. It's not a question. We're coming.
"Why?" Steve asks warily.
The officer only shakes his head. "It is not in your place to ask questions right now, Captain Rogers."
Steve glances over his shoulder at me, defeat in his eyes. "Fine," I sigh. "Let me change, and we can go."
"We don't have time for that, ma'am."
Now I'm really mad, practically fuming, and I'm sure Steve sees it this time. Why? Why? Because the UN is kidnapping me on my honeymoon, and all I'm wearing is a candy-red bikini top and jean shorts. My outfit clearly shows off my tattoos and scars, not to mention it's just rude. We absolutely have time for me to go put a shirt on. Steve puts a hand on my arm, trying to keep me calm before I say or do something I regret.
"Fine," I mutter.
"This way. And please cooperate with us. The UN has jurisdiction to treat the two of you with any means necessary." The two lead us to a helicopter landed right on the beach. As soon as we're on, Steve and I are forced to sit in the back on uncomfortable seats. I catch sight of our destination on a screen up front: New York. What if something happened to the team? They'd tell us first. Right? If I wasn't uncomfortable enough with the situation, one more thing happens that terrifies me more than anything.
