usavatar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Steve is on the floor in the far-too-large garage that juts off one side of the mansion. It's one of the few places he's almost guaranteed privacy, since Tony usually doesn't want to talk when he comes in to work on his own vehicles and no one else has much reason to come in here at all.

For his part, Steve is working on the vintage Harley Knucklehead he still can't believe he owns. Even the one he had way-back-when ("way-back-when") technically belonged to the US government. This one, though, is his. A gift from the Avengers, Tony had said, for the Captain's first twenty-first-century birthday. Or his ninety-fourth. Whichever way he felt like looking at it.

The older man had made it seem like nothing. Steve couldn't possibly have disagreed more.

So there he is, checking every bolt and rod, humming quietly to himself as he does so.

It's The Star Spangled Man, for the curious.

Jane Foster is stuffing a piece of toast in her mouth and trying to read one set of notes around another armload of notes as she makes her way from the SHIELD offices in Times Square to the subway. She could take a company car, but she still hasn't quite accustomed herself to reliance on SHIELD, and given her recent track record, she'd as soon let someone else do the driving.

Coulson is being Coulson. In other words, he's early to a meeting with Tony Stark, expects Stark to be late, and so is watching Project Runway on one of the mansion's several big screen TVs in one of its several lounges.

Supernanny reruns are on next.

Tony Stark watches the clock and carefully makes himself late to his meeting with Agent Coulson, who is currently - according to JARVIS - sitting three floors up and five rooms over watching reality TV. Tony is on his third martini, has decided that martini glasses are for squares, and is now drinking out of a mug as he works one of JARVIS's projected simulations of a new suit design while sitting on a couch in one of the small libraries. This suit is tailored for high-altitude subsonic flight and work in other cold, low-oxygen environments. He's been thinking a lot lately about what happened to Rogers. This is his way of getting it out of his system.

"JARVIS. How much longer until Coulson's show is over."

"Twenty-three minutes, sir."

"Let me know when he's two minutes from the good parts."

"Of course."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Olivia hands the compass back to him, watching his face while he's not looking at her. "I'm sorry. And I understand. Coming here like you do... and not wanting to give that up." She pulls her hand back and huffs a sigh, glancing away again. "A restraining order might help with that guy from the park. He's not going to be the only one to figure it out, but..."

She pauses for a moment, and then swings her leg over the bike to sit sideways on it, facing him. "If you want to be alone, I wouldn't mind walking back to the mansion." Olivia pauses, and then smiles, very faintly. "Our escort from SHIELD probably won't appreciate it, wherever they are, but I think they'll survive."

Something in him unknots at her reaction. The tension in his shoulders drops, the prepared courteous responses go out of his head. He takes the compass back, glancing from it to Olivia, and he smiles. It's not the shy or polite expression the cameras know - that Olivia would know - but lights up something from the inside out and makes him look more like a kid than ever.

"No. It's all right. Thank you." Steve finally takes note of where they ended up. "Would you like coffee before we go back? ...I get the feeling neither of us will be allowed out of the mansion without a real escort for a while."

Olivia hadn't expected that smile out of him, but it's so bright she smiles back at him without thinking. "Sure, why not? Might as well enjoy our freedom while we've got it, right?" It's meant as a joke. Given what she recently escaped from, there's a sting and a seriousness to it even she hadn't anticipated, but she manages to shake it off without letting her smile waver.

He hesitates, then reaches over to put an awkward and protective arm around her shoulders again. Peggy would never let him do it, not in public, not even surrounded by men who knew that a joke at her expense would mean being impaled through the toes by a sensible heel. Only in brief and private moments stolen from the chaos in storage rooms and between rows of files. A clasped hand, a brush of fingertips against her jaw, a love affair played out in glances.

Steve relaxes into holding Olivia close, because compared to that, this is just... Well, it's friendship. And a reminder that as long as she's here, she's safe. "We can always climb the fence if they get too insistent," he says. There's utter sincerity in it, but the laughter of his smile is still very clear on his face.

Olivia tilts her head to look up at him in momentary surprise, but like the first time, she doesn't make any move to shake him off. It's nice to have that reminder.

She actually laughs at his comment, her grin flashing brighter. "Well, I'm sure that would be an adventure. Are you sure Stark doesn't have attack dogs or something? They'd certainly fit right in with the place..."

"Um... Unless he built them himself, probably not." He gives her a little squeeze and lets go, mentally remapping their current position and where he knows the little shop he likes to be. He feels lighter somehow, having explained things, having her not act like he's some tragic museum piece or an anachronistic faerie-tale figure.

It's not much of a walk, and the coffee shop looks decidedly out-of-place in the wealthier neighborhood. Through the windows, it looks like someone's study multiplied several times in size with a counter installed near the back. There are swinging doors behind the counter, presumably leading to a kitchen area, but most of the space is dominated by shelves of very used books and chalkboards decorated with the drawings of visitors. The words Second Story Cafe are emblazoned across the door.

Steve holds the door for Olivia before entering himself, and the three employees behind the counter - one boy, one girl, one he's not sure enough to guess - whistle or wave in greeting. "I like it here," he says.

Edited 2011-10-02 03:35 (UTC)

"Why am I not reassured by that?" she asks, but it's with a smile.

That "little squeeze" gets a small huff of breath squeezed out of her - he's stronger than he looks, and he's not exactly small or delicate-looking in the first place. Olivia blinks after him in mild bemusement for a second or two before she shakes her head and follows, about a half-step behind him.

She ducks her head in silent thanks as he holds the door open for her, steps through, and pauses a short distance inside, taking stock of the place. "I can see why."

"Cap!" The guy waves him over, and Steve goes obediently. A few of the patrons look up as he passes - most of them look like college students or older socialites - and then promptly go back to laptops and books.

The barista peeks around him at Olivia and hisses, "Dude, is she with you?"

"Yes?" Steve blinks. "Oh- no! No, no. Um. She's a friend of mine."

"Excellent."

The girl, Steve doesn't notice, brightens up as well.

"Agent Dunham," Steve says, gesturing at Olivia and then to the three at the counter. "Rodney, Anna and Jo."

"Agent Dunham's kind of formal for here, Cap," Rodney says. Anna is already setting a blue mug of coffee on the counter and Jo is making faces through the display case at a nearby baby.

"Did you bring anything today?" Anna turns the cup so the handle is pointed his direction and Steve shakes his head.

"No, I left my sketchbook at the mansion. I did what you asked though- next time I'll bring it, I promise."

Olivia does notice the girl brightening at the confirmation they're not together, and quickly smothers a little smile.

"Just Olivia is fine," she says to Rodney, flicking a glance to Steve as she says it. He's more than welcome to call her Olivia too, at this point, but she's not going to argue if he'd prefer to stick with 'Agent Dunham'. She pauses, and then tilts her head at Steve. "You draw?"

He ducks his head in an affirmative nod. "It's what I studied."

"Don't let him be modest." Jo crosses zir arms on the bakery case and rests zir chin on top of them, pointing a finger at a framed charcoal drawing on the wall. It's the exterior of the cafe in rain, pedestrians running under umbrellas and spread newspapers. "He's fucking good."

Steve winces. "Thank you."

"Jo," Anna hisses, and shoves the coffee toward Steve. "Do one of the boards for us and it's free."

"Maybe another day. We can't stay too long."

Anna looks crestfallen and Rodney throws an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Cap. Do it for her?"

The girl immediately flushes bright pink and punches Rodney in the ribs. Undaunted - still with his arm around Anna's shoulders - he says, "Do the one closest to the counter so she can do her job and moon over your doodles at the same time. So, Liv- what can we get you."

Olivia stays silent through the whole discussion, watching with obvious amusement while she tries to decide whether to take one side or the other here.

"Just a plain coffee," she answers, studying the drawing Jo had pointed out for a moment longer before turning back toward Rodney. "A little sugar, no milk. Thank you."

Glancing to Steve, she adds innocently, "We do have a little time..."

"Coming right up." Rodney goes to fetch the coffee, Jo busies zirself at the bakery case again, and Anna fidgets with a rag, cleaning the spotless counter.

Steve doesn't quite scuff his shoes against the ground, but it's a close thing. A glance from Olivia to Anna and back, and he says, "What should I draw?"

Olivia leans against the counter to wait for her coffee and raises one eyebrow at the question, still holding back a little smile. She's nice enough not to suggest he draw Anna - that's just going to embarrass both of them, from the looks of it, and Rodney seems more than happy to do that himself.

"Draw some place you like," she suggests after a moment of thought. "Anywhere in the world."

He grins at her, in that same childish way. "That's easy."

And it is. He cleans the board and starts to mark out deft lines, smudging here and tapping the chalk against the board there, creating little bursts of dust and sparks of white. What takes shape, slowly at first, and then faster as the world beyond the chalk board slides out of focus, is a stylized skyline of New York, the buildings - for anyone that knows the city - completely out of place. Here, tbe Empire State Building, within it a portrait of FDR with his hat in the air and a grin on his face. There, Yankee Stadium, a child holding a ball aloft in the stands. The Brooklyn Bridge, the trees of Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, each one with an iconic image worked into the lines.

He runs out of board before he's finished, which effectively brings him back to the present. Steve steps back and looks it over, scratching his head before he realizes he's covered in chalk dust. "Oh- uh, Anna, could I borrow a rag?"

Olivia watches, entranced, while he works, smiling faintly as the images of the city take shape. She grins as he finishes, and steps back a little to take in the whole picture. After a moment, she glances back to Steve, and her smile flashes a little brighter. "It's lovely."

He grins, coming over to take the damp cloth Anna offers and tidy the worst chalk marks up. "You think? Chalk isn't exactly my favorite medium. I mean, it's kind of like pastels, I guess, but I prefer pencils myself."

Steve swipes at his fingers, warming to the subject as he inspects his work. "I used to keep illustrated journals and pencil was the only thing that wouldn't get washed out if they got wet - the terrain we worked in, being dry for more than a week at a time was kind of a miracle. I'm pretty sure they got archived after the war. Anyway, I like the control pencils give you. Watercolors are nice, and for dry work pastels and charcoal might be easier to blend, but..."

He shrugs and offers the rag back to Anna with a quiet thank you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only