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

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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.

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Rogue was perhaps more physically affectionate than most people would be this early in the relationship, but she wasn't about to second guess that part of herself. Fifteen years was a hell of a long time to not be able to properly hold someone's hand, and she was not going to give that up for anyone.

The question of how much of her was still Marie was something she'd considered many times over the year. It was true that with the longer absorptions, she borrowed personality traits from the individuals that were sometimes pretty far from her own. She still remembered what it had been like in those first few days following Logan saving her life at the Statue of Liberty - it had been a trying time for everyone.

It was nice that he was trying to joke about it, that he didn't seem to care, or at least he didn't mind it. But he had also hit the nail right on the head. "They do, actually," she told him with a soft, affectionate smile. "They like the way you treat me, and they appreciate how you're dealing with all of this. Remy especially... He always worries about who will take care of me now that he can't."

Steve had stopped questioning what was normal at any stage, because clearly, this was not a normal relationship. Captain America was... well, Captain America was dating a mutant, which wasn't even a thing in this world, after having talked to her for one afternoon. Nothing he ever did ended up normal, he was giving the whole thing up as a bad job, and just going with whatever worked.

The more Steve thought about it and was able to process, he really didn't mind it. It was a little... Okay, it was weird, but he was getting used to weird in his life.

Then she started talking about them like they were just people standing behind her shoulder, giving her commentary on everything that was happening, and Steve felt twitchy. God, was it like a movie theater in her head, everyone swarmed around with popcorn and giving color commentary at every opportunity? What about when they kissed? What about when they did more? Oh, Jesus.

No, no - she'd said touching helped ground her, so maybe it helped drown out the voices. At least that way she wouldn't hear the commentary while they were actually-- well. Well, so long as he didn't think about it during, it might be okay.

Yeah, he still needed a little more time to process, apparently.

Her husband; of course he was one of them, she would have touched him the most frequently of anyone, just due to their relationship. Steve felt uncomfortable knowing that someone she'd cared for so deeply was still around; it really brought home the fact that he was kinda taking the guy's place. He knew he wasn't really - that would be like saying Rogue was taking Peggy's place. It still felt a little awkward, though. But at least he approved, that was...good?

Some of his thoughts were probably bleeding through to his expression, because he had a horrible poker face in situations like these. Steve leaned his forehead against hers. "Okay, I have a confession. I'm not going anywhere, first of all. But, uh..." he squeezed his eyes shut. "I may... It's a lot to process, so I may be freaking out, just a little." He tightened his arms around her, to prove it when he said again, "Still, not going anywhere." He opened his eyes again, hoping he hadn't hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but he also wanted to be truthful with her.

His expression was... extremely telling and terrifying. What had she done? She'd told him to be honest and open, and she had ruined it. Steve was too kind a man to outright think she was a freak, but her life certainly was, and she'd just dumped all of it on him in one afternoon to make herself feel better. What had she been thinking? Her body slowly tensed as she watched him, taking in every little change on his face, and then he admitted how he was feeling and her heart broke.

She shouldn't have said that. She shouldn't have told him that she could still talk to them, that they were whole people locked up inside her mind. It should have stayed a secret forever, it wouldn't have been so very hard to hide that fact, but... Damn it, why was nothing ever easy in her life? She wanted to be honest with him, and she wanted to be honest about them - they were the reason she'd survived that lab, they deserved at least that much recognition.

But what did Steve deserved? A normal girl, for starters. One who wouldn't break down crying once a week, wake up screaming in the night, hear voices chattering away all the time. He deserved to be with someone who hadn't killed hundreds of innocent people. She'd been so selfish in telling him, in wanting to have one person in this whole world truly know her - she was a monster, an abomination who didn't deserve happiness, just like she'd been told by so very many people.

The cavalry was circling in her head, Remy and Erik and Logan, rushing in to try to stop her self-destruct sequence just as they had for all those years, but she shoved them back, feeling guilty about... everything. About hurting them, about putting Steve through all of this. She wasn't a normal girl, she should accept that and stop this stupid dream of having a normal life with a good man. Her happy life had been taken from her and monsters didn't get second chances.

"I'm sorry," she finally squeezed out when he looked at her, so close and yet a world away. Her voice was quiet, tight, splintering into pieces just like every other part of her. "I shouldn't have told you, it's too much for anyone, you shouldn't have had to-- You don't have to stay. I know you won't tell anyone about me, I trust you, but you don't have to stay." Her breath was hitching and the words were barely making it out in one piece. She wanted to run away and hide, her flight instinct so strong that it hurt. Not that she noticed much; everything hurt at that moment, and there was no way she could keep any of the pain and fear off her face.

She didn't want to lose him, but she couldn't keep him. Steve Rogers deserved so much better than the likes of her.

If he knew even half of what she was thinking, Steve would refute every single thing she was thinking. He didn't deserve an ordinary girl, and it didn't matter what anyone else thought he deserved, anyway; he'd chosen Rogue, and it was his choice.

"Bushwa," Steve said emphatically. What she was saying was utter bullshit, and he wanted her to know it. "I didn't say it was too much, I said it was a lot to process. You're really bad at listening to what people actually say, aren't you?" He chided. "I ain't goin' anywhere, I said that too, and I damn well meant it. Now, if I'm gonna shut up and take it when you compliment me, you need to stop all this nonsense about me leaving, and just accept the fact that you're stuck with me. You wanna leave--" his throat closed up in panic at the thought, but he forced a swallow, breathed for just a moment, and continued. "You wanna leave, really want to, for you and not for me, then... I won't stop you. But if you get it in your head that you're doin' me any favors by leaving, then you're dead wrong. This is my choice, and I..."

He had to squeeze his eyes shut, and pulled her closer, resting his head against her shoulder. He thought about his choice to crash the plane, and how his one regret was knowing he was losing Peggy. He wasn't going to make that choice again.

He couldn't stop his tears, and she could surely hear them in his voice, which cracked when he next spoke. "I can't lose you, too. You're about the only thing that makes any sense to me, and I'm not giving that up without a fight."

Edited 2016-05-28 14:34 (UTC)

How many times had Remy ranted at her about accepting the fact that he wasn't going to leave her? It had taken years for her to believe that his interest was genuine, and for her own to grow strong enough that she couldn't resist his charms, and then he'd had to fight to get her to realize that he was in it for the long haul. That was when she'd finally absorbed him, just for a few seconds to make a strong enough connection to really get a good dose of him, and then she'd had two of them ranting their love at her.

She was falling back into her old habits of assuming the worst about the people who claimed to care about her, and it was wrong of her to do that to Steve. But it was just so easy to let herself sink into that pit of loneliness and believe that she'd never get out of it. It was good that he went about firmly setting her straight on the matter, she needed to hear things like that, she just wished it hadn't had to end with him crying.

Letting go of him long enough to readjust her hold, she wrapped her arms around him, one hand rubbing his back while the other smoothed over his hair, trying to be comforting. "You won't have to," she reassured him gently, keeping her voice low and soothing. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to stay with you forever, so that's what I'm gonna do. I'm sorry I panicked, sugar, I'm so sorry. You're not going to lose me."

Steve let himself relax when she obviously wasn't pulling away. He practically melted with relief when she started comforting him. He was also a little mortified; surely, at some point, they would be able to get through one day together without one or both of them crying--right?

He squeezed his eyes shut, reaching up to rub the tears out of his eyes before pulling back enough so she could see him. Clearing his throat so he didn't sound quite so raspy, Steve took a steadying breath. "I'd better not," he said, giving a small, but heartfelt, smile. "My plans for world domination kinda hinge on you sticking around," he joked. Every diabolical plan ended with world domination; any kid with a comics allowance could tell you that.

"Guess we both kinda panicked for a second there, huh?" he glanced away, shame-faced. He was an idiot, telling her how he was feeling like that. He wanted to be honest with her, but he surely could've worded it better than that. He should've known, should've realized after she'd told him how people gave up being near her, that it had taken her husband - Remy, she'd called him - years to convince her that he was serious about her.

At this point, Steve was pretty sure he didn't have years of that kind of fight left in him. So much of the time now, he felt like he was running on empty, just because what other choice did he have? Dying hadn't taken, so now he was left with living. Living some kind of life he couldn't make sense of.

Ironically, the one part that did make sense was Rogue. Who shouldn't even exist in this world.

Rogue wasn't sure she had that kind of fight left in her either. She didn't want to struggle to get past her own fears and insecurities, she wanted to just be with Steve, happy and secure in her feelings for him. That comfortableness of a relationship, the thrill of being with someone who returned your affections, that's what she wanted, not the constant back and forth barrage of doubts and worries.

Cupping a hand against his cheek, she applied the lightest pressure, trying to get him to turn back to her. She needed to see those beautiful blue eyes. "We'll just have to work on the not panicking part of things," she informed him, trying to keep her tone light and succeeding at least somewhat. "Steve, sugar, I'm falling for you faster than should be humanly possible. It's absolutely nuts, but I'm willing to run with it if you are. I sure want to."

It wasn't that he was trying to hide from her, Steve just didn't like feeling weak, didn't like others to see him and think him weak. He was so used to controlling his emotions, when that was the only part of him that would obey his wishes, that it felt like a failure when he broke down. He knew he held himself to higher standards than others held him, but sometimes that was the only thread he had left holding himself together, anymore.

But he turned easily when she prompted, and watched her intently as she spoke. Not panicking: sounded good in theory. In practice it might be a little harder to maintain. But he would definitely give it a shot, if she was willing to.

Listening to her, Steve could no longer ignore or deny what he'd been feeling, since shortly after they'd started talking that first time. That feeling of rightness, of hope and terror and elation and giddiness. He was falling, too, but there was nowhere left to land; he was pretty sure he was already in love with her. He'd never felt anything quite like it before, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating to have a name for this all-encompassing feeling.

He wasn't about to tell her about it yet, though. He was pretty sure a sure-fire way to get her to panic was telling her he was in love with her. Although he was pretty sure people were supposed to panic at hearing talk of forever, too, especially so soon after meeting; but they'd both said it, and both meant it, no matter what joking form it might have taken.

"Definitely willing," he responded softly, turning his head enough to kiss her palm. Touching her was natural, and so long as he ignored the part about third parties watching them from inside her head, nothing she'd told him changed the way he thought about or would act with her. With his lips still pressed lightly against her skin, he murmured, "And the falling part's mutual."

The plan to not panic would definitely take some effort on both their parts, especially when they were both drowning in these feelings they had for each other. There was a desperation involved when emotions were heavy and new, and their situations in this new world didn't help that any.

If Steve had told Rogue about his realization of being in love with her, she wouldn't have panicked. There would have been no laughing or name-calling or worrying that he was nut-job for falling in love with her so quickly. She would have simply come to her own realization and echoed his words, because there was no denying the depth of her affection for him. Perhaps it wasn't healthy or the best indicator of the future of their relationship for them to have fallen in love at their second meeting, but she wasn't afraid of or worried by it - she accepted and embraced it because their lives were too short to do anything but that.

"Good," she commented quietly, her heart racing at that kiss to her palm and the way his lips lingered on her skin. If only he would do that every day for all their years to come. Maybe one day she would ask that of him, but for now she just basked in that small but meaningful romantic gesture. "We're partners, after all. It only makes sense that we do these things together."

One day, Steve hoped to be able to look back at this, their beginning, and just laugh at how ridiculous and melodramatic they'd both been. He hoped he'd be able to reminisce with Rogue and get her laughing about it too. He wanted to be able to look back, years from now, and in the easy confidence of a long, close relationship, be able to share his insecurities from the time with her, sure in the knowledge that she would understand what he meant, and not just what he was saying.

Obviously, they weren't there yet. But someday, he wanted them to be.

At this point, Steve felt he'd do almost anything, should Rogue ask him to. He wasn't quite so far gone off his head for her that he'd compromise his morals (not that he ever expected her to ask that of him), but anything even remotely reasonable, Steve would move heaven and earth to provide it for her. Touching her, kissing her, was certainly no hardship for him, all she had to do was ask. He couldn't imagine feeling like this, and not being able to touch her. His heart ached for her when he realized that was exactly what she'd had to go through, for years; over a decade with no touch from another person, unless it drained their life from them.

He gave a small, sweet lopsided smile, that probably said more than words how he felt about her. Then it turned amused, and he teased lightly, "Maybe we shouldn't panic at the same time, though. One of us has to be able to snap the other out of it."

There would be much laughter on their melodramatic ways in a few years, when they'd settled into things together. Rogue was able to do much the same now when looking back on her teenage years when everything had seemed to be so life and death, especially where her powers were concerned. She looked forward to those future days when things would seem a little easier.

After three months of being able to touch people, Rogue couldn't imagine going back to that former life. She couldn't even contemplate the idea of not being able to touch Steve, to feel his hand in hers, press her lips to his cheek. It would be agony to have to go without that, and she'd only had a few hours of it - if they had years of time together and she lost her control, it would destroy her.

She'd be happy to see that sweet smile every day for the rest of their lives, too. "You're a genius," she informed him with a playful grin, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead. "Let's walk a little, sugar. We could use a break from this emotional roller coaster."

Steve closed his eyes briefly, involuntarily, when she kissed him. God, he was so in love with her, and soon, he wouldn't be able to keep himself from telling her. Especially if she kept being so sweet and charming. He longed for the days when they'd already settled into an easy relationship, but the high of this new-found thing between them would be missed, as well. He'd take all of it, though, so long as he could keep her with him.

Taking a deep breath, he smiled, nodding. "I could go for that." He reached for her hand again, tucking it into his elbow. It was probably old fashioned to take a stroll with a gal's hand tucked into the crook of his arm, but he'd always envied the guys he saw doing that, and now that he had the opportunity himself, he wasn't going to squander it.

"And I know from experience, if you don't take a break from roller coasters, you will end up puking. It's not pretty." He thought about a day, long ago even in his memories, of being coerced onto a roller coaster, and the consequences that had followed, thanks to his defective body at the time. He focused his thoughts on just that memory, and didn't allow himself to think about anything that would set off his recent melancholy and depression. It wasn't an easy task, but he glanced over at Rogue, smiling at her, and it wasn't quite so hard, then.

It was sweet the way he tucked her hand into his elbow. Sweet and old-fashioned, a combination that was perfect when it came from him but would probably seem a bit corny from anyone else. She would happily accept any of his older ways, and anyone who said anything about them would have to deal with her. He was charming and she was completely in love with him.

It hit her then, that realization of her feelings. They didn't startle or worry her, they just felt right. And honestly, it was nice to feel that again for someone, and to know that they returned at least some of that affection.

Smiling back at Steve, she gave his arm a little squeeze and leaned her head against his shoulder for just a second. "Well, we can't have that," she informed him, laughter in her voice, and she decided that she'd have to ask him about the story sometime. Not today, though, not unless he wanted to tell it. She'd gladly hear any story he wanted to share with her.

Rogue had shared so much with him, Steve wanted to return that generosity. He thought maybe he could, right now, in this moment, without being overwhelmed by all his self-recriminations. Right now, he felt amazing, the lows from earlier swept away by the elation of this thing between them, unnameable in its intensity.

"You ever heard of the Coney Island Cyclone?" He couldn't help puffing up a little with pride at what he was about to reveal. "I went and rode it on opening day." It was a little ridiculous; he should feel embarrassed at being able to say that, but he thought she would enjoy the anecdote. It was one of the things he'd looked up when he had returned to New York after his brief tour of the country, and he'd been amazed that it was still there, after all these years. It was even on the National Register of Historic Places. Which made him both proud and despondent about the whole 'I rode it first' thing.

All the same, he ducked his head in embarrassment. "Okay, so I was basically dragged onto it by--" his voice hitched, but he was determined to get through this. "--my best friend. Bucky." He glanced off into the park for a second, before turning his gaze back to her. "He wanted bragging rights, and to be fair, it is something pretty brag-worthy, to be able to say 'I rode that first.'"

He started gesturing with his hands as he explained, "It's massive, right, and-- it's probably not all that impressive nowadays, but back then, we'd never seen anything like it. In our neighborhood, even! So, we went on it. And it was--" he laughed a little. "It was terrifying, honestly. But amazing."

He sighed in regret, but the nostalgic smile never left his face. "Unfortunately, it was June, so it was hot and muggy out, we'd been outside for a while anyway, and between my," he made a face, "'delicate constitution,' my intermittent vertigo, and just general crummy luck, I wound up throwing up once we got off." He shook his head. "I s'pose I'm lucky I didn't get sick during the ride."

Rogue could hear the pride in his voice and see it written across his face as he bragged about what was really an incredible story. Coney Island was a piece of American pop culture and had been for decades. She'd grown up hearing it mentioned in movies and television shows, and it had always been on her list of places to go once she managed to get away from the South. Knowing that Steve really had been there all those decades ago was nothing short of amazing in her book, and she was so pleased that he had decided to share the story with her.

She smiled through most of it, bright and excited to hear about that long ago part of his life, and she gave his arm another little squeeze at the mention of Bucky. It was easy to see how much the loss of his best friend affected Steve, and she understood that pain. The smile came right back when he started describing the adventure, and a laugh came with it, first bright with amusement and then a little less so as she sympathized with him.

"You poor thing, that sounds awful," she said between the remaining chuckles. She wasn't laughing at him, which he hopefully understood, but at the terrible turn the day had taken for him. "It would have been much worse if it had happened on the ride though, trust me. I've got that memory stuck in my head and it's the kind of mortification you just don't live down."

She tried not to think about who the memory had come from, because that was a dark path that had no place in their happy walk through the Park.

Steve shrugged, in a 'what-can-you-do' sort of way. "I was used to it, by that point. Being-- well, not being healthy, like everyone else. It didn't really detract from the day, it was still fun. Left to my own devices, I'd probably just read, draw and run, all day, now. I'm not a real exciting guy." Not when it was just him, anyway. He could think of a thousand things he wanted to do with Rogue, places they could go visit and have fun, Coney Island being just one of many.

Really, he just wanted to make memories with her. He wanted that instant connection, where every time he looked at something, it reminded him of her, in some way. Steve was very much of the mindset that a relationship wasn't just built on passion and excitement, but also being best friends, wanting to share everything with each other, no matter how mundane.

He didn't quite know how to respond to her comment about having a memory like that in her head, not even her own memory, it sounded like. But he was glad that she was comfortable telling him even that much, when she'd been so fearful earlier of him leaving when he found out about her powers.

Reading and running all day sounded perfect to her. She'd never really taken to art, but it was always fascinating to watch others create pieces, and she'd have no problem watching Steve work at it for hours on end. As long as they did things together, she wouldn't much care what they did, honestly.

"That's okay, I think I've had a bit too much excitement in my life the last few years," she reassured him, nudging him gently with her shoulder. "I could do with taking it easy. I love to read, and I've been getting back into running and martial arts, trying to get into shape again. I'm sure you're a bit faster than me, but we could always go running together - you can wave as you pass me," she added with a laugh.

Going place with Steve, seeing and experiencing things together, that was something she was certainly looking forward to. But the quiet, more subdued moments were just as important and meaningful. A night curled up on the couch together reading or watching television sounded as appealing as a day at Coney Island, for the simple fact that she would be spending the time with Steve. She wasn't going to be alone anymore, and neither was he.

At her comment about being 'a bit faster,' Steve couldn't help but wince a little. "Yeah, I..." he sighed. "I always have to watch how fast I run, so I don't draw attention to myself. I can never really let loose." It was an adjustment he'd found himself dealing with more and more, lately; being Captain America where everyone considered him a celebrity, and not a soldier trying to do a job. Because he didn't really have a job, at the moment. Hiding who he was wasn't in his nature, and it was a struggle remembering that while he wasn't a sick, scrawny guy anymore, he couldn't just do whatever he wanted, for fear someone would realize he was too strong and too fast to be an ordinary guy, even one who looked like he was serious about weight training.

Reaching over with his free hand, he placed it on top of Rogue's on his arm, squeezing gently and smiling at her. "You'll have to show me some martial arts. I never really learned any formal combat before I started fighting, and it wasn't..." he shrugged. "It wasn't as widespread as it is today. Not that I plan on having to use it," he explained, "but you never know, and..."

This was the part he'd struggled with, ever since he'd woken up, and even more since the Battle was over. "I was literally created to fight. Running is great for working off energy," at least, it was if he could really let himself run, "but sometimes I just want to do more."

It was unfortunate that he couldn't use the abilities he had without having to hold back and hide his identity. She knew what that was like, both first and secondhand, and it was one of the absolute worst feelings. Already she was trying to think of a secluded place where he might be able to let loose, as he'd put it.

He had such a great smile. Every time he threw one her way, she swore her heart skipped a beat. "I'd be happy to teach you, sugar," she told him. "It's what I used to do, actually. I used to work at a school for gifted children," he'd know what she meant by that, "where I taught French, literature, and self-defense. I'd studied all different types of fighting, we can find one that suits your style." She had a few that she was partial to; they could start there.

"Fighting is a whole different ball game than running," she acknowledged. "I love the feeling of losing myself in a spar, and being able to match my opponent on instinct rather than serious thought and strategy. I'm still getting back to where I was before, but I'll gladly take you on. You don't look so tough," she teased him with a bump of her hip and a quiet chuckle.

While Steve knew, intellectually, that she was a mutant who had to hide her powers, he'd never seen them, or known any other mutants, so he didn't consider the fact that she'd understand just how frustrating it was to hide his full abilities. He wasn't really one to complain, anyway - well, most of the time, and not real seriously. He understood how life just dealt you a crummy hand, and you had to make do. But he also believed in doing everything you could to make things better. He just hadn't figured out how to do that, in his current situation, yet.

He loved it when she gave him small glimpses of her life before. He never really expected her to tell him about the harder parts, toward the end, but listening to the small stories and snippets she casually gave him, helped give him a more complete picture of who she'd been, what had helped shape her into who she was now.

"I'm not sure I really have a style," he replied, "but I'm a pretty fast learner." He'd picked up the shield and almost instinctively known exactly how to use it, and the first time he'd thrown it, it had come right back to his hand. Howard had been gobsmacked, which Steve still counted as a large personal victory. Not many people could render a genius completely speechless.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Don't take this the wrong way, but, uh... I've never fought with a woman, before. Sparred. I've never sparred with anyone before, actually. I kinda just jumped in the deep end." Story of his life, honestly.

There were so many stories she could tell him about her life before this, before the war. All of it would be tinged with a hint of sadness for the friends and the life that she'd lost, but it was better to talk about the people she'd loved and the adventures she'd had than to let them be forgotten.

"That's alright, I'll go easy on you," she teased him further with a smirk. After a pause, she added, "But really, that's fine. We can take it slow until you're comfortable with it. Sparring is quite a bit different from a fight for your life, but it's exhilarating."

Perhaps one day he'd let her touch him with her power, just for a few seconds, and she could give him a really good fight by borrowing a bit of his strength and speed. Just enough to be able to keep up, even the playing field. She'd been fighting with and without her powers for so many years, it would be nice to have it be fun again instead of just necessary.

Edited 2016-05-31 23:58 (UTC)

Steve would gladly listen to all of her stories, and only wish that she'd been able to have more of them, before ending up here. It was a strange contradiction, happy that she had those memories, but sad that he hadn't been able to see them; see her, happy and... well, as carefree as she could be, back then. It was a mixture of feelings he was becoming rather familiar with, unfortunately.

Steve grinned. "You may have to go easy on me," he told her. "But it does sound...great. Sounds fun."

Before he could say anything else, Steve saw a flash of color in his peripheral vision, and glanced over instinctively. That shade of red rarely occurred in nature except for the brightest of cardinals... and black widows. Casually walking toward them, was none other than Natasha Romanov.

"Oh, crap," Steve muttered without thinking. His brain immediately switched to tactical mode, assessing and evaluating possibilities. Natasha could be just going for a stroll, like they were - but it was unlikely, in his books, that she'd just happen to choose Central Park to do it, and then just happen to find them. It was a huge park, and what little he knew about her didn't lend Steve to believe she went for casual strolls. Or stumbled on to anyone she didn't intend to meet. She could be looking for him for Fury again, but he had a cell phone, she could have called for his location.

And then there was the third option: Tony had called her, and harassed her until she went looking for him, because Tony had no doubt told her 'Steve was just at the Tower with a mysterious woman, and they had an intense conversation and I couldn't hear it, yes of course I was trying to eavesdrop, I'm a nosy bastard - so could you go find them and find out who she is, because I have to know, because I can't keep my nose out of other people's beeswax for five seconds.'

The look on Natasha's face was... interesting, too. Not upset, not quite predatory... But definitely intent. She was wearing a white tank top, probably in concession to the heat, light blue jeans that looked painted on, and soft ankle high leather boots, with a heel. She looked prepared for a fight if need be, but he was pretty sure she always dressed with having a fight in mind.

Steve came to a gradual halt, waiting for Natasha to reach them. She smiled happily when she was close enough, and it was an expression Steve instantly mistrusted.

"Hey, stranger," she said in her husky teasing voice. "Fancy running into you here."

Steve wasn't having it. "It's a public park, Natasha."

And then, with that smile still playing along the edges of her lips, Natasha turned to Rogue. "Who's your friend?"

Rogue wished that she had known Steve at a happier time in her life, when things were actually a little easier. It was hard to say whether that would have affected how she saw him though, as changed as she often was by experiences and the people she absorbed. Perhaps he wouldn't have liked the person she'd been back...

She was grinning like a love-struck idiot when she heard that oh, crap. The smile was wiped away in exchange for a frown as she looked up at Steve, waiting for a clue as to what had caused such a reaction in him. Whatever it was, it didn't have him panicking or readying for a fight, so it couldn't be all that bad.

The sight of the red-haired woman walking toward them with purpose was an anvil-shaped clue. A who then, not a what. A person who, if Rogue remembered correctly, was at the Battle with him. That shade of red was pretty unmistakable. Once she knew that, well, it was easy to put the pieces together. Either something had come up that needed Steve's attention, or someone wanted information - likely on her. Why else would someone Steve knew suddenly show up out of nowhere the first time they were out doing something together, and t after leaving Stark Tower?

Steve stopped them and Rogue gave one last glance up at him before turning her attention to the other woman, offering a larger smile than she was given when the question was posed. Might as well just jump into the deep end.

Holding out her free right hand and giving Steve's arm a little squeeze with her left, she offered a bright, "Marie LeBeau. I'm Steve's girlfriend. It's lovely to meet you." The word wasn't entirely accurate to what they were, but she didn't have a better one. Hopefully Steve took it reasonably well.

Steve was prepared to tell Natasha she could mind her own business and tell Tony to do the same - when Marie stuck out her hand, squeezing his arm and if he hadn't already experienced his life flashing before his eyes during the plane crash, he would've sworn that's what was happening to him now.

His girlfriend. It was exhilarating to hear her say that - and yet, it couldn't have been any worse timing on it. Steve hung his head in defeat. Christ on a cross, he was never gonna hear the end of this from Natasha.

Natasha arched an inquisitive eyebrow, seeming a little nonplussed at the information, as much as the straightforward way it was delivered. Still, she had a role to maintain. She reached out and shook Marie's hand, smiling again, more like a cat that caught the canary. "Natasha Romanov. It's a delight to meet you as well. Steve kept telling me he wasn't interested in dating yet. Apparently you changed his mind." It was a dig as much at Steve's reticence on the matter as much as it was at Marie; the 'yet' was added to see how much she knew about Steve. She was also curious on just what it was about this Marie that had made Steve decide to take the plunge into dating.

"That's enough, Natasha." He'd watched the footage of her speaking with Loki, knew how she could hold what seemed to be a perfectly innocent conversation, and at the end of it have all the knowledge she'd wanted, with her subject not even realizing what had happened.

"Steve's very protective about the people he cares about." Natasha couldn't stop herself from getting the dig in - especially if this were a new relationship, which it had to be; no one had ever seen this woman before, and it had barely been two weeks since she'd last spoken to him and Steve had been obstinate about not wanting to date anybody yet.

Unless... Unless they'd already been dating, and he just hadn't wanted to tell her. Natasha dismissed the idea, though; Steve was a lousy liar, and she would've picked up on any evasions or false fronts he'd tried to put up. No, the last she'd seen him, he'd genuinely seemed determined to wallow in grief for the foreseeable future.

Rogue could tell by the very measured way Natasha reacted and spoke that she had training. Real training, and a lot of it. The words she used were carefully chosen and arranged, hinting at meanings and prying for information that might not be readily given. It was something that most people wouldn't realize, but Rogue had her own brand of training in having a few hundred minds crammed within her own, many of which had ended up there from her days gathering intelligence during the war. Interrogation could be long and messy; it was much quicker and cleaner to just have her tap them and sort through the information she got that way.

She was already forming her response to Natasha's first comments when Steve issued the order that sounded like it might be part warning. It made her wonder what exactly Steve was worried about. This was his teammate, someone he worked with and had obviously trusted to have his back - yet he didn't seem to trust Rogue to have even a brief conversation. What had he been intending to do, keep her hidden from everyone he knew? That sure was flattering.

"It's something we have in common," she informed Natasha, tightening her grip just a little on Steve's arm. A confirmation that she did care about Steve, and a warning that Natasha hadn't seen protective yet, but she would if she messed with Steve. (Just in case they weren't quite as close as Rogue assumed.)

"And we changed each others minds," she corrected, smile still in place. "I didn't think I was ready for another relationship yet, but you can't always help when these things happen." Rogue was fine with talking about all of this, but she was trying to tread as lightly as possible for Steve's sake.

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here! /throws feels at you

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