fateandfortune | Just a kid from Brooklyn. [For Steve Rogers]

Entry tags:

Just a kid from Brooklyn. [For Steve Rogers]

Three months. That's all the longer Rogue had been in this world that wasn't hers, trying to scrape together a life out of nothing. She'd barely made a decent start of it when the world had tried to end on her with the Battle of New York. The city had been in chaos, was still trying to pick up the pieces two months later, and Rogue did all she could to help in her own way. In a small way.

Sure, there had been a few times she'd been tempted during the battle to run out into the thick of things and become her old self. Join the superheroes who had taken charge of the situation. But in the end she'd stayed back, because the reality was that without someone to borrow an active power from, she was just another normal person, and normal people just got others killed in fights like that.

In the weeks that followed the Battle, she'd taken to volunteering whenever she wasn't working. She'd joined an organization that worked with the elderly in various capacities, and they sent her where she was needed. Sometimes it was a nursing home to visit with the ones who didn't have families or who had simply been forgotten, sometimes to the retirement communities that put on events and could always use a few extra hands. Those were her big plans that Sunday - a party at a residential community, complete with cake, punch, music, and streamers. Lots of streamers. They'd really done the place up for the 4th of July holiday, which wasn't technically until Wednesday, with red, white, and blue all over the common room. It had taken hours for Rogue and a few others to get the decorations up and everything ready, but the smiles on the residents' faces as they were shepherded in by a fresh set of volunteers made every second worth it.

Laughing as goofy Mr. Samuels swept Mrs. Hawkins into something almost resembling a waltz, Rogue continued spooning out strawberries onto the whipped cream on top of the line of shortcakes. It felt strange to not be wearing gloves, even after months of having decent control over her mutation, but she'd still chosen a blue dress with long sleeves for the occasion. A simple dress, with sensible heels, so the sticker nametag reading "Marie" didn't look too terribly out of place.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It took a hell of a lot of effort for Rogue to not roll her eyes when Todd the Dictator took up his self-appointed role of party pooper and ended things. It always went this way, and as much as she respected the position he held, she had very little respect for him as a person after she'd seen how he treated the elderly patrons they were supposed to be helping.

She would have made her own muttered comment had Steve not beat her to it, and at that blush she just grinned like an idiot. "That's because the last time he tried that, he got a quick kick to the shin by our favorite feisty lady," she whispered, leaning in close so he'd be able to hear. Straightening up again, she added in a more normal voice, "I'd better get started on the tear-down before Todd starts complaining on how slow we are."

They had to get all the decorations down and either disposed of or stored away in their plastic tubs, and the leftover food needed to be packed away as well. It was a lot to do, but with everyone pitching in, it wouldn't take long.

Edited 2016-05-22 06:49 (UTC)

"Good for her," he said with a smirk. And it was definitely a smirk, the likes of which most people would never associate with Captain America. Todd wasn't exactly a bully, but he certainly wasn't an overly kind person, either. Steve could certainly see him deserving a good kick in the shins. He wondered if Mrs. Petrelli would've kicked him square in the ass if she'd been able to reach that high. Probably, and without second thought.

"I think I'm supposed to help escort some of them out, make sure they can find all their things," he said, reluctant to part ways. "I'll come back when I'm through and see if you guys need any help putting things away."

Intellectually, Steve knew they'd be meeting up again in another few days, and he did have her number... But he really didn't want to leave Marie's company.

Rogue was just as reluctant to leave Steve's side as he was. It was silly, she was completely aware of that, but it was like he had some sort of gravitational pull on her, because the idea of him walking away just seemed wrong. But she wasn't a lovesick schoolgirl, and she could handle being apart from a man she'd just met for a few minutes.

But she could let him know that she wasn't going anywhere.

Reaching over to take his hand in her own, she gave it a quick, gentle squeeze to go with the affectionate smile she wore. "I won't leave without saying goodbye," she told him, offering the assurance that she'd requested from him earlier. The contact lasted only a few seconds before she dropped his hand and hurried off to help unhook the bunting draped around the room.

Steve couldn't help but watch her as she hurried off to start tearing down the decorations; he couldn't have moved if a bomb went off right behind him. He didn't need the memory of Bucky to know he was acting like a twitterpated idiot, but at this point he didn't think there was anything for it, and he was just going to have to ride all his foolishness out til the end.

Eventually, he shook himself and started up his escort duties. He found himself with Mrs. Petrelli on his arm again, but this time there were no leering looks or inappropriate words. She just patted his bicep (taking a moment to squeeze it appreciatively, but Steve didn't hold it against her) and said "Don't worry dear, I don't poach."

"P-poach?" he stuttered. The old woman nodded sagely. "I can see you're already taken. It's so nice to see people still meeting up like this, at dances. Back when I was your age, we used to have hosted dances that we'd go to, in the hopes of meeting someone we could date."

"You don't say," Steve replied, trying to keep a straight face. He wondered if it was obvious to everyone else just how 'taken' with Marie he was - and did Marie realize it? Was she just being polite in not pointing it out? Or... were they taken with each other? Part of him hoped that was the case; the other part berated himself for wanting romance while he barely had his feet in the 21st century yet.

Soon enough, he discovered everyone left already had escorts, and he was allowed to return to the community room. His gaze immediately began scanning for Marie, even while another volunteer came over and ushered him toward the tables that had to be folded and set against the back walls.

As soon as she and Steve were both otherwise occupied, Rogue found herself cornered by Susan, one of the volunteers she'd worked with at a few other events. The girl was in her late teens and volunteered regularly to meet the requirements of her college scholarship; she was sweet, if a little high-strung.

"I can't believe you scored Hottie McNew Guy," the younger girl proclaimed in a rather loud 'hushed' voice. "I was so hoping to have a chance at him, but at least it was you and not Tina. I can't stand her."

Rogue paused in folding up a string of bunting and looked at Susan as if she'd just grown a second head. "Excuse me?" She couldn't have heard that right. Right?

Susan threw the look right back at her. "I saw the way you two were looking at each other. You're so damn lucky, because he is gorgeous. Just thinking about what's under that shirt makes me all hot and bothered." Luckily, Susan wandered off at that point, muttering to herself about who she could call that night to scratch that itch, leaving a slack-jawed Rogue in her wake.

It took until she had finished the bunting and gathered up the trash to really process the rest of what the other girl had said and for the implication to really sink in. She gathered up a few bags of trash and hauled them outside to the dumpster, and by the time she returned she was actually blushing. It hadn't just been her wishful thinking then, that Steve had been interested? If Susan had seen it, then maybe it was really there, and maybe she didn't have to be quite so uncertain about it.

When she stepped back into the community room and spotted Steve, she felt her face flush even further, and the smile that crossed her face was definitely that of a lovesick schoolgirl. Oh lord, what had she gotten herself into?

As soon as he spotted her, Steve grinned. Yep, he was definitely stupid with infatuation. Only half-listening to the other volunteer, Jeremy, mentioning something about picking up the tables, he grabbed the upturned edge in both hands and easily hefted it and began moving it to the wall. He wasn't really paying attention, since this was just grunt work, so he was confused at first when he turned back for another table and Jeremy was staring at him with his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Uh...okay, or you could do that," the guy said. At Steve's confused look, he elaborated "Jesus, that thing's gotta weigh like, 200 pounds, it's all steel or something. Usually it takes at least two of us to lift it."

The only response Steve could offer was a faint "....Oh. Sorry?"

Jeremy's eyes widened and he started waving his hands. "No no no, no way! Here, can you get these tables, too?" He moved to another section, muttering about relics made from metal that were goddamned hard to move and why hadn't they upgraded to plastic yet in this place. As Steve trailed behind, he tried to glance around surreptitiously to see if anyone else had noticed his slip-up. Carrying a heavy table - with both hands - wasn't that big a deal, he had enough obvious muscle mass he could pass it off; thankfully he hadn't grabbed one in each hand, that might have really given the game away.

Grabbing another table, Jeremy pointed him where to go, but followed Steve as he moved, and began talking again. "So, you and Marie, huh?"

Oh, Christ almighty, really? Steve thought, wondering if everyone was going to comment on how they'd gotten on. Did nobody have anything better to do than to pry into other people's business? "She's very nice, we had a great conversation." He didn't mention they were planning to meet up again, let alone for his birthday, since just because he was 70 years out of his element didn't mean he didn't understand how gossip worked.

"She's super nice," Jeremy agreed. "She's also kinda... well, you know." His tone of voice made Steve glance at him, a slight warning in his look. "No, I'm not sure I do."

Jeremy shrugged. "Just... she can be kinda cold, that's all. She's nice and sweet, but at the end of the day, she's never interested, that's all. Maybe mere mortals aren't enough for her," he tried to joke; Steve didn't find it funny.

I will not punch a snot-nosed college kid in the face, he told himself--repeatedly. After the silence grew awkward, Steve finally said stiffly, "I'll go grab the other tables. Why don't you finish getting the streamers off the walls." He didn't make it a question, and luckily for both of them, Jeremy took the hint and scampered off.

His whole body was radiating with anger on Marie's behalf, and he dearly, dearly wanted to punch something. He didn't even bother hiding his strength with the third table, picking it up like it was made of paper.

The grin she spotted on Steve's face from across the room was enough to make her positively giddy, and her own smile didn't fade one bit as she continued helping with the cleanup, grabbing a broom to sweep up any bits of paper or cake that might have landed on the floor. For a moment she was reminded of the occasional parties they'd held at the mansion, usually marking a holiday or the end of term, and how she'd always been the last one left at the end of the night, making sure everything was settled before turning in. For a few years, Remy had been there beside her, waiting until the last of their students and teammates had gone to bed before turning the music back on and whisking her around the dance floor. It was a silly thought, but for just a second she entertained the idea of having that sort of moment with Steve, something sweet and just between the two of them, with no prying eyes watching their every move.

But then she glanced over in his direction again and her smile faded. That anger around him could have been spotted a mile away, and what he was doing with the table - it was reckless. He was risking exposing himself and she couldn't let that happen. Not here, not like this. Not when he seemed to be trying so hard to keep his identity a secret.

Leaving behind the broom, she hurried over, reaching his side before he'd set down the third table. She grabbed a corner of it, offering with a bright smile, "Here, sugar, let me help you with that. These things can be pretty unwieldy."

Edited (typing is a struggle tonight) 2016-05-23 05:30 (UTC)

Marie coming up beside him was completely unexpected, and his thoughts were so clouded at the moment, it was only his quick reflexes that kept him from striking out. As it was, he jerked a little, making the table tilt a little before steadying. "Christ!" he exclaimed, quietly, but vehemently. "Give a guy a little warning next time!"

Shit. Shit, she was just trying to help, and he'd snapped at her, and his great day was beginning to look like a nightmare again. He put the table down and kept it steady with one hand, while he reached up with the other and scrubbed at his face. "I'm--so sorry. Just-- I was angry at something else, and you startled me. I didn't--" want to hurt you, he didn't say. "I didn't see you come up beside me. Sorry."

He almost told her he could manage the table by himself, he didn't need help. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the gesture, but his current anger combined with his natural stubbornness wanted to balk at the idea of needing help.

But this was Marie. She was just trying to be nice, and at least she wouldn't outright ask about what was going on between them. Which apparently, according to anyone with eyes, there was something going on.

Sighing, Steve tried to push his anger away. He could deal with it later, when he was alone. Right now he had to worry about just being a regular guy who couldn't lift half a ton of weight over his head without breaking a sweat. "Thank you, for the offer." He tried to put as much sincerity and gratitude into his voice as he could, willing her to understand. "I'd appreciate the help."

She was such an idiot. The second she'd felt the table tilt from his body jerking in reaction to her appearance, she'd realized just how much she'd screwed this up. He was a soldier who had only been back from a war for a few months - she knew what that was like and she had given absolutely no thought to how her actions might startle him. She was incredibly lucky that his reaction hadn't been bigger, louder, or more violent, though she honestly would have deserved whatever she got for her stupidity. He wasn't the normal guy he was pretending to be and she should damn well have remembered that.

Remaining quiet while he spoke and seemed to try to gather himself together, she kept her expression as neutral as possible, though there was likely a good measure of concern that crept in at the edges. When he'd apologized and accepted her offer, she just shook her head and gave him a small smile.

"Steve, I'm the one who's sorry," she told him gently, keeping her voice low so no one else would hear. "I shouldn't have startled you like that. I should have known better; I have those moments myself." There was just a moment of hesitation before she reached over to set her hand on his where it held the table, smoothing her thumb over the back of his hand. "I promise not to surprise you without warning if you do the same, okay?"

She worried about whatever it was what had made him angry, because it was clearly something big enough to make him forget himself and risk his identity like that. It wasn't anything that she had done at least, or she felt certain he would have said something to her about it, but that really didn't make her any less worried.

Now she was apologizing, and that just made him feel like a heel, she had nothing to apologize for. He never could keep his temper in check, not when it involved guys badmouthing girls who were clearly way out of their league.

If they were anywhere else, if he didn't already know that everyone was whispering about them, Steve would've leaned down to press his forehead to hers. It was a gesture he and Bucky had shared numerous times, and not something Steve thought of as romantic or anything but friendly, but he knew it was an intimate gesture, and it was the last thing he wanted the gossipmongers to feed from. He glanced around quickly, but everyone seemed to be ignoring them at the moment.

He covered the hand she'd placed over his and murmured softly, "I promise." It felt like something bigger than just saying he wouldn't surprise her. This whole thing between them felt far bigger than it should be, especially after such a brief amount of time, but he was tired of second-guessing it.

If Steve had make that intimate gesture, Rogue's reaction would have had the gossip mill turning for weeks. She'd adjusted over the past months to the ability to touch people with her hands, day-to-day interactions had helped a great deal with that, but any sort of truly intimate gesture was still so far beyond her. If he had done it, she might honestly have started crying, and not only would the gossipmongers have had juicy new material to last them the month, but Steve would have gotten a good look at just how broken she really was under all those smiles.

She very nearly did start crying when he placed his hand on hers and made that promise. This thing they had, it was hitting her fast and hard and she suddenly felt like all she could do was hang on for the ride. It was all she wanted to do, really - whatever this was, whatever it turned out to be, it made her feel alive and gave her hope for some semblance of a normal life, and those were two things that she very desperately needed. That she'd found that with a charming, handsome, utterly sweet man was just icing on the cake.

Giving his hand a light squeeze, she kept her voice low and leaned in a little as she told him, "I know you can handle the table by yourself. Just be careful, okay? I don't want you to get hurt." The smile she gave him then was small but sincere, because she really did care about his well-being.

Taking a steadying breath, Steve had to lean away from Marie just a little; he was a little afraid of what he'd do if they stayed cozied up together like two schoolkids sharing secrets on the playground. He gave her a lopsided smile. "I promise I won't hurt myself. Thanks."

It wasn't until he was just getting ready to lift the table again that something in her words pinged uncomfortably, and he glanced over at her. He kept his voice low as he asked, "You know, huh?" Was she really just referring to the fact she'd already seen him lift and move two of them by himself? Or was his story so unique that no amount of obfuscation and vague wording could hide who he was?

This was the first time he'd really tried discussing his past with someone who didn't know who he was already, and he knew he'd made a few minor slips, but he hadn't thought they were anything that would let her connect the dots. He couldn't think of any one point where she'd started treating him differently, either. Maybe she didn't know, and really was just talking about the strength he'd already displayed.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Marie, but it was disquieting not knowing how much she knew.

He started moving the table again; just because everyone seemed to be ignoring them didn't mean they really were, and standing in the middle of a half-disassembled room over an upturned table was plenty unusual anyway. He kept his senses alert this time, though. Maybe too alert, with the small paranoia niggling at the back of his brain that she might know.

He'd been planning on telling her anyway. He wasn't sure why this was bothering him so much, unless it was just the fact that he hadn't been able to control how she'd found out. If she'd found out, even.

Everything seemed to be going just fine until that quiet question raised every alarm within her. The way he asked it was what gave it away, the way the words were quiet and not as carefree as the ones before had been. He was testing her, trying to figure out what she knew, and that moment was absolutely terrifying for her.

She could tell him, right then and there. Lay everything out, that she'd picked up on the slips he'd made and put two and two together. Reassure him that it was highly unlikely anyone else there knew his secret too. It was so tempting... But this wasn't the right time for it. If they talked about this, it needed to be in private, where their reactions weren't going to be watched by a dozen pairs of eyes who might spread the word that Captain America was volunteering with the Average Joes. He didn't need that in his life - he needed a bit of normalcy.

...so then what the hell was she doing even talking with him?

Nothing about her was normal, and he deserved so much better. He deserved someone who didn't have more secrets than he did, someone who wouldn't have to spend their entire life hiding in plain sight. But even knowing that, she couldn't bring herself to walk away. It was selfish, but she wanted a chance to try and see if this could work between them.

Forcing a playful smile, she walked along with him for a second, reaching up to gently tap his extremely impressive bicep. "With muscles like these? Oh yeah, you're just fine without my help," she joked, trying to add a little flirtation back into her tone while she prayed that he didn't notice the unsteadiness of the whole thing.

Her reaction seemed perfectly normal, and Steve tried to smile at the playfulness in her gesture, but... Now that he was really watching, really paying attention, he couldn't stop his mind from questioning every minute move and change in her voice.

He tried telling himself that fine, so what? Either she knew, and for whatever reason she was keeping quiet about it - or she didn't know, and now he was acting weird and it was going to send her completely the wrong signals.

The fact was, though, that now he was in combat mode, and he couldn't just flip it on and off like a light switch. He couldn't go back to being carefree Steve Rogers who'd been flirting with a great girl, not right away. He had to settle his nerves, and that wasn't going to happen with a room full of strangers potentially watching his every move.

He paused by the wall, pretending to adjust the table so it was sturdy leaning there, and murmured so only Marie would hear. "Maybe I should go. I-- think it's best I go, now. I'd stay and help finish, but--" he glanced around again. "At this point, I'm not sure I'd be doing more harm than good."

The smile he gave her this time really was genuine, and fond. "I'll call you, in a couple days, we can finish making plans for the 4th, okay?"

He had the strongest urge to lean over and kiss her goodbye - just a simple brush of mouths, the kind of kiss you saw long-time couples give each other without a second thought, and it was completely absurd, but he still caught himself swaying slightly in her direction. Yeah, maybe it was definitely time to leave. Before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

Oh Steve. She didn't want him to go, didn't want to spend the next few days agonizing over these moments and worrying that he might hate her for having kept her knowing his secret from him. That was what she was most worried about, that she had messed things up even before they'd really started. But she understood why he felt that he had to, at least she thought she did, and so she wouldn't try to keep him there.

Secret identities always made things more complicated, but not everyone could be Tony Stark and throw themselves into the spotlight.

"Okay," she agreed quietly, giving him a fond smile in return, though she knew there was worry etched into her expression. With him standing so close, she could have sworn he was moving toward her ever so slightly, and in that moment she didn't care who might see - she leaned in and up to press a soft kiss to his cheek, anchoring herself with a hand on his shoulder. It only lasted a second, and then she was settling back on her heels, letting her fingers trail down his arm before dropping away again.

"So you don't forget me," she explained, and if he looked, he might see very clearly painted on her face that she'd like nothing more than to kiss him properly right at that moment. But she couldn't bring herself to do it, not with all those people watching. Kissing was something extremely personal and intimitately special for Rogue, the one thing she'd always longed to be able to do in her world. And even though she'd touched him a few times that day, including that brush of her lips on his cheek, there was something in her that was somewhat terrified of her lips meeting his. She'd get over it before long, but there was nothing to do for it now.

Well... Well. That was...unexpected. Steve held himself perfectly still for a moment, just staring at Marie with slightly wide eyes. He probably looked like a deer in headlights at the moment, but he was too busy processing to really care. It was just a kiss on the cheek, and yet it was much more than he'd been expecting, especially now. Maybe he should raise his expectations for their get-together on the 4th. Their date? Was it going to be a date, now?

Don't get your hopes up too high, a cynical part of him warned. You still don't know if she knows you're really Captain America. And if she does, she might just be looking for a good story to sell the rags.

He was pretty sure that was ridiculous. She was too kind and understanding to do something like that. But even kind people could be curious, and if curiosity about getting together with Captain America was her driving motivation... He'd met girls like that during the war. (He'd gotten friendly fire because of one, too.)

Drawing in a deep breath and holding it for a second, Steve decided he was being an absolute idiot. Regardless of her motivations, he was taken with Marie, and at this point he should just let the chips fall where they may. He gave her another smile, warm and heartfelt, and told her gently, "Definitely not forgetting anything about today." He reached up and pressed his hand to her bicep, giving it a soft squeeze, hoping it conveyed that they were okay, and he meant what he said.

Then he turned and started to walk away. Because if he didn't go now, he wasn't sure he'd be able to.

[Seriously. I was starting to worry they were just gonna keep dancing around each other while everyone ~~watched~~ cleaned up around them.]

If Steve wanted their get-together on his birthday to be a date, she had absolutely had no problem with that. She was going to dress up like it was a date, and bake him the best damn birthday cupcakes she could, because he deserved nothing less than that.

And if anyone ever even suggested that she was just interested in him to get a story to sell, she would punch them right in the face - Steve included. Besides being the furthest thing from that sort of person, notoriety was the very last thing she wanted in this world. But beyond that, she would physically fight anyone who tried to see Steve like that, consequences be damned.

That touch of his hand was perfect, and it made everything better. She was still smiling like an idiot when he turned away, and he'd made it only a few feet before she was calling after him, "I'll see you soon!" Definitely an idiot, an infatuated idiot.

But the 4th couldn't come soon enough.

[They are adorable in their dancing, but it really is very "Oh come on already."]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Just a kid from Brooklyn. [For Steve Rogers]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

you're killing me with feels :D

Yay? Lol (Steve is a little ball of PTSD at the moment, too)

I just want to hug him. So many feels.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Why must you create drama, Steve? WHY

Because who would these characters be without their drama?

no subject

no subject