Mirror, Mirror ↠ Steve Rogers

Chapter Three

Steve has a few seconds headstart, but he stops on the driveway to wait for her. "Leila," he says when she seems to look right past him, and her eyes snap to him.

"Hm."

"You're talking the way you did at Linda Harker's house."

Leila can feel her defenses go up. "I'm not having this conversation again," she says. God, can't she just get some quiet? Does this guy ever fucking stop talking? There's this childish part of her that just wants to cover her ears with her hands and rock back and forth on the ground until everything goes away.

"Okay," Steve says, holding his hands up in surrender. "You're fine. I get it. I just wanted to ask if I can drive."

She studies him, and it's like she's trying to find something to be mad about, but she can't. He didn't push for answers she can't give him. He didn't demand the keys. And he's not looking at her with pity in his eyes. Confusion, maybe, but not pity.

She pulls the keys out of your pocket. "All yours," she mumbles.

A few minutes later, when they're on the road, she hears Steve say her name again, and looks up.

"I don't know what happened in there," he says, "and I won't push. But if you ever do want to talk about...what I think I saw. I'm here. That's all."

She watches him carefully. He glances away from the road for just a moment, and he's so earnest, she almost smiles. God, he's hard to be mad at.

"Eyes on the road, Rogers," she tells him. "This is more of a third mission conversation."

He smiles wryly and obediently turns his full attention to the road. "Got it."

She has absolutely no plans on taking him up on his offer. And the fact that he did at all, the fact that he thinks something's wrong with her, should change their entire dynamic. She should be demanding a transfer by now. It should be infuriating. It should be terrifying.

It's not that she feels comforted, exactly, but there's an acute absence, a big gray nothing where her anxiety over Steve should be. Maybe this is how normal people feel all the time, she thinks idly.

Regardless, she keeps coming back to Richard Harris's hand on his stepdaughter's shoulder, and to Tessa Nolan's brown eyes following her out of the house, like their conversation wasn't done yet.

*

Leila had been hoping that, like her, Steve had been holding onto his apartment, but apparently it either wasn't an option (given that it was in SHIELD's name) or he just didn't think it was worth it, because he didn't. She vaguely considers forcing him to get a motel room, just to get some space from him, but decides against it. The mission still has to come first--SHIELD comes first, as they so kindly reminded her when they forced her to leave New York--and she doesn't quite trust him not to go rogue.

Besides which, if she's honest with herself, she really doesn't want to be alone tonight.

"I'm going to go get dressed," she says. She'll shower in the morning. "You're taking the couch."

When she gets out, dressed in black leggings and a tank top, she finds Steve's changed into a pair of gray sweats and is pulling a blue t-shirt over his head. She can't fault him for that; there's really nowhere else for him to change. Leila has always favored studio apartments. She likes to be able to see everything going on. Outside of the bathroom and her walk-in closet (into which he was not invited), the whole thing is one big room. Not that she's complaining.

"Sorry," Steve says when he's pulled the shirt over his head and sees her.

For a moment she considers not saying anything, but she has a brand to maintain, so she allows herself to glance over him, and smirks. "Oh, don't be."