Friendly Face

Chapter 7

You didn't want the moment to end.

Not one bit, but alas all good things had to come to an end.

Especially since you were drenched to the bone and shivering, even pressed against Cap's warmth.

Though you weren't really sure if you were shivering from the rain, the frigid air, or the butterflies in your stomach from the wonderful kiss. It was a toss up.

Steve must have noticed your shivering because he began to lead you back to the cottage, his arm wrapped around you keeping you tucked against his side where you'd be warm at the very least, though no more dry. "I'm sorry," he said softly as you made your careful way back to the cottage. You looked up at him confused and he continued. "I should have asked before I..." he turned red, clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable with his breach of etiquette. When he was raised, it would have been a huge faux pas to kiss you before you were officially a couple. "It wasn't appropriate," Steve mumbled.

You shook your head and smiled brightly up at him. "No, silly soldier. It was perfect." He gave you a look and you laughed. "Ok, it would have been slightly more perfect if we hadn't just been attacked and were in the pouring rain, but the kiss itself was wonderful and perfect. Don't forget, winghead, we're not in the 40s, propriety has changed," you reminded him gently.

Steve seemed to perk up tremendously and you leaned your head on his chest and strolled back to the cottage with his warm strong arm around you. You were shocked when you saw the shield agents hauling limp bodies into vans. "I called them after taking down the men who attacked us. They aren't dead, but they aren't exactly feeling very well either. Apparently a vibranium shield to the head does not feel good..." he chuckled dryly. You nodded and fought with your instincts to run to the injured men to examine them and help them. Steve must've noticed as his grip tightened on you and he led you more quickly into the cottage before you did something stupid.

You paused and stepped back form Steve to look him over again "Are you sure you're alright?" you asked him nervously. You saw all of the limp bodies and knew how injured they were just from a glance and you were afraid Steve was more injured than he was letting on.

Steve gave you a warm smile. "I'm fine, doll. Go get into dry clothes and pack so we can get out of here. The agents are taking us home as soon as we're packed," he told you and gave you a quick hug as if to reassure himself that you were alright.

You went to change into dry clothes and gather your things to pack them as quickly as possible, not caring how neatly they were fit into the suitcase. You wanted to go home after the day's adventure, even if home right now was the shield building in New York. You were planning on moving back to your apartment soon and had invited Steve to move in with you, even if it was just until he got his own place.

You finished packing your things and walked across the hall to see if Steve needed help with his. He was busy organizing his suitcase when you noticed his sketchbook on the desk. Moving over to it, you examined the drawing, if the sketchbook was open where you could see it, it was fair game. That was the rule, right? The drawing was similar to the one drawn the day you were out reading by the fire, only this time you were icing your swollen ankle, grinning into your book and not paying Steve a bit of attention while you spent time with your fictional friends. You smiled fondly at the page, still impressed with Cap's attention to detail.

You jumped slightly when you felt large warm hands on your shoulders. You hadn't been paying attention to what Steve was doing, and while he was big, he could be really quiet when he felt like it. You tilted your head back to see Steve smiling down at you. "I draw what I see." He said warmly, smiling fondly at the drawing.

You shook your head as you looked back at the beautiful woman on the page. "You must be blind then. Because she is certainly is way too gorgeous to be me..." you said softly, your voice full of self-doubt.

Steve's grip on your shoulders tightened and he turned you to face him. "No. Mere pencil on paper isn't capable of capturing your beauty nearly enough. Don't discount yourself that quickly," he told you warmly, with genuine caring... or more... in his tone.

You smiled up at him and moved to take your bags to load them into the vans. Of course, Steve took your bag too before you could. You huffed and rolled your eyes at him, but let him do it. The agents were milling around outside and one held an umbrella over you, so you went with him to see what they were up to and ended up in conversation with them while Steve helped some of the others load the van. Steve looked over at you and started roaring in laughter. You looked at him confused until you realized the picture he was seeing: the tiny doctor in a bright yellow rain slicker and equally bright red rain boots surrounded by hulking agents in black tactical vests and guns. And yet, you were the one they were looking to as a superior. It was hilarious and you began to laugh as well and soon the laughter was loud enough among all of you that even the sound of the rain was drowned out.

Once the debriefs were completed and the scene was completely cleaned by the agents, including any evidence of you and Steve having lived in the cabin for the last few weeks, they all piled into the vans. One of the agents insisted that he was going to drive your car back to headquarters and you were coaxed (read: shoved) into the back of a shield SUV so they could drive you home safely. You were only barely not a civilian and they went out of their way to protect you, even if you were perfectly fine. You stripped off your bright yellow raincoat once you were in the heated SUV away from the wet and cold of the storm. The rain boots went next. You absolutely hated shoes unless they were necessary. It was also no coincidence that Steve ended up in the back of the SUV with you and you gave him a warm smile. "They wouldn't let you drive either?" You teased Steve, amused at his annoyed expression.

"No ma'am. Apparently I am in a state of shock," he replied with a laugh.

"That's the same thing they told me!" You whined. You were a doctor and could tell them that you were perfectly fine and they were supposed to believe you.

You looked him over yet again, but couldn't see any visible injury. "Steve, are you sure you're ok?" You asked again. The look on the face of a tiny shoeless woman should not have been particularly frightening, but your look of solid determination was.

"Just a few bumps and bruises, nothing to worry about," he reassured you honestly. Steve grinned and glanced at his lap in invitation. You unbuckled your seat belt and laid down over the two seats between them lay your head on his lap. Staring up at him, you stuck your tongue out at him, then reached up to poke his nose. He huffed and rolled his eyes at your silly antics, and laughing you spent the rest of the time telling stories. He told you stories of Brooklyn, the war, Sargent Barnes, and home.

"STEVE! I am honestly surprised you survived past the age of ten. Let alone were allowed out of the house!" You cried in outrage when he told you his extensive list of previous ailments, and his old habit of picking fights with bullies.

He chuckled. "That's what Buck used to say: 'Steve you shouldn't be getting into fistfights, or even leaving your bed for that matter.'" Steve pulled a funny face and did a really thick mock-Brooklyn accent to imitate his old friend.

She pinched the bridge of your nose in mock-exasperation and broke into giggles. You took a turn telling stories for awhile about you childhood (boring, except the parts where you learned how to use your limited magic), medical school (mostly boring), and working with incompetent coworkers who though you were incompetent because you were so tiny and young-looking (absolutely horrendous). You were in the middle of telling a story about how it took three of your co-workers nearly a half an hour to try to find a vein before they'd call you for help when the van doors were rolled open.

Steve sat you up and maneuvered so he was in position to defend you from whoever opened the door. The movement was instantaneous and automatic, and the way his arm moved to hold you behind him gently, you felt his caring and gentleness toward you in the gesture, though he was prepared to defend you violently if necessary.

No one ever got to see the soft side of Steve.

It was the side you loved best.