I decided to take a break from my Bucky story, Raze, which is pretty dark and not going over well anyway to write something sort of happy. This is just a cute little love story for Steve, with some drama and daring rescues thrown in. I just wanted to see our Captain happy. Please note, I have some *scenes* planned for Lucy and Steve, so the rating of this fic will probably change in a few chapters. Please leave a review :)
All I did was try a new coffee shop. I didn't know that Starbucks being closed would alter the entire course of my life, but it did. There are so many things that would have resulted in a different outcome - if I had never moved to DC, if I had a different job, if my roommate didn't break our coffee maker - but I think it really comes down to choosing a random coffee shop.
Early morning has always been my favorite time of day. Growing up with five siblings meant the only quiet time I got was at dawn when the rest of the house was still asleep. As a teacher, the morning was my time to mentally prepare for the day and get in any last minute grading or lesson planning I had been putting off. Even though I love morning, my days do not start without coffee. So when I woke up to find Rosa, my roommate, had broken yet another coffee maker I knew the day wasn't going to be great. Things only got worse when I pulled up to Starbucks to find it had been 'closed for repairs'. A caffeine withdrawal headache was starting to form. Across the street was a little local cafe I had never been to so I tried that.
The coffee was delicious, I was officially never going back to the chain shop. I don't think I'll ever forget the details of that place, where my life changed for good. The little shop, Cafe Lincoln, was everything bigger shops tried to be. The walls were a gorgeous copper with industrial light fixtures and edison bulb sconces. Someone had meticulously curated local artists works and spread them throughout the shop. The best part was the smell. More than just coffee, Cafe Lincoln smelled like caramel, vanilla, and spice with a hint of sandalwood. I was instantly relaxed just sitting in my squishy leather chair watching DC wake up.
I had been there for maybe twenty minutes when he walked in. He was clearly a regular customer because the barista stood up from his stool with a grin and started making a drink without taking an order.
"Here you go, Captain."
"Thanks, Miguel." Captain Steve Rogers, Captain America, paid and sat down at a table across from me.
I tried to ignore him, I really did. I tried to just continue people watching and planning out my day. My mother always said I should learn when to speak and when to be silent, I'm still not sure I made the right choice.
The thing is, I started thinking about my students. Every day I stood in front of six classes of twenty-five to thirty teenagers and tried to teach them history. Every day I watched as my kids - because when you teach they all become your kids - grew more and more apathetic. Who cared about history when many of them weren't even sure where their next meal was coming from? I looked at Steve Rogers and thought of how much they all looked up to the Avengers. How they wore Captain America and Iron Man t-shirts and said they wanted to be superheroes when they grew up. The truth was, despite the destruction of New York and the controversy around them, the Avengers were a symbol of hope for my kids who had grown rather hopeless.
"Excuse me." I spoke just loud enough for him to hear.
"Sorry, ma'am, are you talking to me?" He turned to me with wide blue eyes and I had to smile, of course I was talking to him.
"Yes. Um -" I wasn't sure what to call him. Captain America? Captain Rogers? Mr. Rogers (wait...)? It came out "Mr. America." I instantly felt my face burn red, had I really just called Captain America 'Mr. America'?
The Captain, thankfully, laughed. "Please call me Steve."
I breathed a sigh of relief. He was good at putting me at ease. "I'm so sorry to bother you, it's just -" I paused, not sure exactly how to explain what I was hoping for from him.
"Are you alright?" He looked genuinely concerned.
"Yes, sorry. I mean, sorry for saying sorry." I stopped and closed my eyes, collecting myself. "Let me start over. My name's Lucy McAuliffe."
"Nice to meet you Lucy."
"Thanks." I smiled shyly at Steve. I wasn't good with talking to men in the best of circumstances. "The thing is, Steve, I'm a teacher, and I swear I'm not normally this - forward - but well you're you and I don't know when I could get a chance like this again. I was wondering if, for my students, I could ask you a few questions? It's just that the kids in my classes really look up to you, and all the Avengers, and I think it might get them to actually care about something."
Steve furrowed his brows, I was worried I had somehow offended him. "What kinds of questions?"
"Nothing personal, I swear. I'm actually teaching a unit on World War Two and I thought maybe I could just ask a little about life in the '40s. It feels really weird to say that, but, honestly it's kind of a historian's dream come true to meet someone who actually saw history happen."
"That's not so bad, I guess." Steve leaned back in his chair slightly. "Of course you'd need a picture or something to prove you actually talked to me."
"Right. I mean, only if you would be okay with that." I giggled inside, picturing taking a selfie with Captain America.
"What about, instead, I just come talk to your students?" Steve looked me in the eye like he was actually excited about the prospect.
I thought about our students. About how disrespectful they could be, about how some of them were scared to go home every day. I thought about Jeremy, a Freshmen who had once confided in me that he and his little sister were living in a garden shed so she wouldn't have to hear their parents yelling at each other every night. Having Steve visit would make him so happy. I also thought of my troublemakers who thought they were too tough for school. The ones already being recruited for gangs. Steve could maybe inspire them too.
"If you think you can handle a roomful of teenagers, you are more than welcome. Does next Tuesday work for you?" I couldn't believe this was actually happening. Of course I had to clear it with my principle, but I seriously doubt she would have any protest.
"I fought Nazis, I think teenagers should be easy. Where and when do I go?"
I couldn't help but laugh at his remark, knowing my students would give him a run for his money. "It's John Q. Adams High, if you could be there around 10 that would be awesome."
"Looking forward to it, Lucy. I gotta run, see you soon." Steve exited the coffee shop and I made eye contact with barista Miguel.
"Well damn." He said. "Wish you were my teacher."
I laughed both at his comment and out of adrenaline. This was actually happening. My day turned around.
