Welcome to my Steve Rodgers fanfic. So this story is set before Winter Soldier, after the Battle of New York (Avengers). It's just for the sole purpose of Steve x OC fluff. Also to set the stage for a possible Bucky Barnes story in the future :D. I wasn't planning on publishing this story this month but a reader had been requesting it for a while now so what the heck :D.
Please rate and review ^^.
Steve sat at the seat closest to the gate within the Quin-Jet. He was wearing his Stealth Mode Star Suit (as Natasha liked to call it). It was he usual uniform but with more muted colours than the usual bright and patriotic red, white and blue. Him, Widow and the S.T.R.I.K.E unit were just returning from a standard rescue mission (involving a volatile super and hostages). The mission was a success and they completed it early than he thought. Which meant he could stick to the plans he made…with her.
"What is this, is Cap' smiling?"
Steve raised his head up to find Natasha Romanoff. She was standing in front of him with her arms crossed, and her infamous mischievous smirk pinching at her lips. He leaned back into his seat while holding her stare confidently.
"I am not allowed to smile, Natasha?" He responded coolly.
"Of course you are, just never thought I'd see one among your subordinates. Gotta keep the soldier rep up right?" She teased whilst taking a seat on the free space beside him.
"I was thinking." He mused casually.
"Hot date got you in a good mood?" She questioned. Steve tensed up. It always irked him how easily she could read a person. Her skills were useful in a mission, but it was a whole different matter when she turned it on him.
"I haven't got a date." He quickly added, his face reddening. Her wicked grin widened as her eyes narrowed.
"Yet?" She playfully bumped her shoulder against his. Natasha's insinuation only made him more aware of the blood rushing to his face. He couldn't deny that he did wish that he was more than friends withher.
"She in our line of business?" The agent inquired. She was busying her hands by removing the straps of her gauntlets.
"Far from it." Steve said with a soft smile spreading across his handsome face.
"That's good, Steve." Natasha mused and for a minute there Steve knew that she was genuinely happy for him. But when he looked to her there was a strange, pensive shadow in her eyes. As if she was thinking about someone else, someone that mattered to her.
She masked away her emotions in a stealth only the Black Widow possessed. Her attention was immediately on him again and her clear eyes were gleaming artfully.
"So how did you two meet?"
Steve hesitated. He wanted to tell her the story. It was an amusing one and it made him seem like a fool. But at the same time he worried that he would tell her too much. Too much that could risk her life. Then again, he thought back to the time they fought the Chitauri. Natasha had fought well and Steve considered her to be a valuable partner and soldier. He wondered if friendship was possible between them too.
There was only one way to find out.
"That's actually a funny story." He began to say as Natasha listened intently.
A few months ago…
Steve Rodgers knew, ever since he agreed to take the experimental serum more than seventy years ago, life would never be the same.
Excitement somehow found him, even on calm days like running along the Brooklyn Bridge.
That was a lie, the day wasn't calm. The clouds above him were darkening and swirling in the sky, signs of a brewing storm. It was night time and there were flashes of lightening across the sky and he knew rain was an inevitable outcome.
He was about to increase his running speed when he saw her. He would have missed her if his blue eyes weren't distracted by a light winking at him from his right. He immediately stopped. Turned and focused his gaze on her silhouette, standing on the edge of the bridge with her back to him.
His eyes widened in panic, he knew in an instant what he was about to witness. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence; he had read a few articles on the newspapers. Some had made out of the situation alive, some haven't, but he knew he had to make a choice in that moment.
Being Captain America, he couldn't turn away.
"Ma'am." He called determined not to let the fear seep into his voice. There was a heavy wind. He hadn't noticed it before, being so lost in his thoughts. But the strong winds carried the power of his voice, away from her ears.
"Ma'am!" He called again, she didn't respond and continued to make her way closer to the edge. Her body swayed from side to side as she carefully balanced her body over the iron beam that ran above the traffic underneath.
Steve cursed, he couldn't stand idly. He had to take action. Without thinking twice, he leaped over the pedestrian lane and onto the beam. It began to rain, the water pelted down on his clothes, drenching his grey t-shirt and pants.
Steve ignored the turbulent weather and focused his attention on the girl. She was yet to notice him, even as he inched his way towards her. Her long, unruly head of dark curls were whipping wildly in the wind. She didn't even stop to tie her hair back; her gaze was so focused on the edge of the bridge. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans that was beginning to darken from the heavy shower and a plaid red top that was two sizes too big on her small frame.
Steve's determination deepened, he wasn't going to let her throw her life away. Stranger or not.
She reached the edge of the bridge, away from the danger of falling into traffic. Steve knew he had to increase his pace.
He reached her in time and wrapped a large hand around her elbow. She stopped in her forward momentum and spun around to face him.
Their eyes met.
Well, he hoped he was staring into her eyes. The woman wore black square rimmed glasses that took up most of her small round face. Gibbous blobs of water stained the surface of the spectacles, making it impossible for him to determine her eye colour. Strands of her shoulder length dark hair was matted to her forehead and sides of her face.
"You don't have to do this." He stated loud and clearly. She stared at him, eyebrows raised and mouth parted in shock. He gazed back waiting for a response and after a moment of recovering from his appearance, she began to speak.
"Of course I do, I heard him." She shouted over the wind.
"What?" He exclaimed.
"I couldn't just leave him up there all alone, he needs me."
It took a moment for him to absorb her words but seeing the vulnerability in her hunched shoulders and trembling arms, his expression softened to sympathy.
"He is in a better place now." He stated his hold on her grew tighter, pulling her closer "I know you feel like you have to be with him. I know what it is like to feel like there is no place for you in this world. But where there is hope there is life... here. I am sure you will be abandoning friends, family and not to mention endless possibilities in your future. Don't give up, I know I won't."
A soft wavering smile took over his face. The woman stared back in awe. Her lips were parted as she struggled to speak. He couldn't help but think he had stunned her with the compassion and understanding in his speech. He was after all, deriving it from his own personal experiences. He was hopeful that maybe, just maybe, he had saved this woman from making the biggest mistake of her life.
Startled by the sudden mewl from above, he looked up. It was a cat, a kitten to be more exact. It was hidden inside one of the many gaps within the metal truss. It was watching them with its white face tilted to the side and wide gibbous eyes. Steve's light brows furrowed in concern.
What is a cat doing up there? Someone should help it come down—
He stilled, his eyes flaring in realization. His gaze moved back to the woman in a snail slow pace. She was watching him, nibbling on her lower lip pityingly and it was all the confirmation he needed.
His ears began to burn.
Steve Rodgers wished the bridge would fall apart under him so he could disappear from the intense embarrassment he felt.
After Steve mutely helped bring down the kitten, they found shelter in front of a small coffee show. The rain was still pouring down heavily, but nothing was tenser than the awkward silence between the two.
"Thank you for coming to my rescue." She spoke meekly while cradling the wet kitten in the crook of her elbow. He was relieved that she was the first to speak, it saved him the trouble. He was still recovering from the bruise to his ego. He felt stupid for not realizing sooner and assuming the worst.
"It was no problem Ma'am, though now I am a little embarrassed by the situation." He confessed abashedly. She grinned and waved her free hand dismissively.
"Oh no please, don't be embarrassed. It's the thought that counts." She insisted kindly "Not many people would have done what you did. I recently saw on the news that this woman took a selfie with a suicidal man."
"A Selfie, ma'am?" He questioned, perplexed.
"You know, when you take a picture of yourself it's called a selfie. It's a whole big thing on the internet." She explained in a lackadaisical manner.
"I see." He murmured, finding the whole explanation highly bizarre.
"Olivia Thorne." She abruptly introduced. She thrust a hand in his direction. Steve smiled softly and accepted the handshake gently.
"Steve Rodgers." He released her hand and she continued to smile widely. The bottom half of her thick frames dug into the apples of her cheeks. The large droplets of water on the surface of her glasses had dried. She had a pair of glittering amber eyes behind long dark lashes. Steve was a little entranced by them.
"Steve, it's nice to meet you. Strange as it was." She uttered with a casual lift of her shoulders.
"Same here Ma'am."
A silence fell between them again. Steve struggled to find more words. He averted his attention to the dark skies, but he could feel her watching him.
She must think I'm some fool. Steve was still uncomfortable being around a woman without being aware of every inch of his skin. He suddenly felt like he was a five foot three asthmatic again. With two left feet and inability to talk to a woman without irritating them. He needed to get away.
"I should head back, before the rain comes down harder than it already is." He excused himself quickly "It was nice to meet you Miss Olivia."
When he acknowledged her again he was surprised to see her shoulders slump in disappointment. He hesitated, unsure of what to do next. She grinned which confused him even more.
"I guess I'll see you around; when the next cat that needs saving comes along." She obviously saw his desperate need to get away. He was thankful that she hadn't pointed him out on it. He nodded dumbly and turned his attention to the road.
He loitered to the very edge of the canopy. Heavy drops of rain pelted the side walk, the roads were practically black from the assault. The shower was so thick that it was hard to see past the first ten feet of land.
"You know! "She called out, his head turned in her direction "The rain is still coming down pretty hard. You want to have a cup of coffee while waiting it out?"
Her offer was sincere and something about her endearing smile that promised him a pleasant time. He suddenly began to wonder why he was so desperate to get away from the woman. Clearly someone who would risk their lives in a storm to save a cat should be great company.
The tenseness in his broad shoulders melted away like butter on a steam grate. He returned her smile as dashingly as he could and nodded in acceptance.
"That would be great Ma'am." He said and began to approach her again. Her smile brightened and the kitten meowed and curled up further into her arm. He chivalrously opened the door. The warmth from within the well light café flooded their systems. Steve hadn't realized how cold he was till the heat from the furnace within the store warmed him.
"You know you can just call me Olivia." She insisted as she stepped in ahead of him. "I am not that old. Despite the haggard appearance."
Steve chuckled, chagrined and nodded agreeably.