D.C. was weird. The hustle and bustle of a city never bothered me I mean I lived in New York. But something was off about the city; maybe it was all the sqeez ball politicians. I heard the door slide open behind me and I turned, coming face to face with a rather handsome black man. He was frowning down at me, his arms folded over what I could tell was a rather well defined chest; for being a normal human that is.
"I'm Crista Frasier." I said, tucking my curly brown hair behind my ear. The man glanced around almost casually but I knew he was looking for people that shouldn't be watching or listening, judging on the request for secrecy. He moved aside and made a jerking motion to invite me in.
The apartment was nice. It was clean, well lit by windows and the sliding door that he was closing behind me, and furnished with an array of different things from comfy looking couches to hard bar stools. The man came up next to me, arms once again crossed over his chest.
"Is he here?" I asked, awkwardly glancing around. He had left a rather cryptic voice mail on my cell giving me nothing but an address and a plea for my presence, along with the secrecy request. The man nodded, released a breath and relaxed slightly.
"They both are." He said.
"Both?" He couldn't possibly mean…
"Who is this?" My attention was drawn to the woman in the door way. I had seen on her TV during the battle of New York. She was smaller than I had anticipated; being only about five foot three, but Black Widow's presence was not something to be ignored. I had no idea she would be here. Apparently I was more terrified of her than I would have liked to admit, especially to myself, because I didn't answer the question; I simply stared at her. That was when the light from the hallway disappeared. Well, was blocked really by the largest muscled man I had ever known. His shoulders, protruding ever so enticingly from his white wife beater, took up the whole space of the door way. His hair was still perfect; it always was and I was beginning to think that it always would be. The weirdest part about seeing him here was the fact that he was wearing jeans.
After my eyes had scanned his whole body, he was standing which was good and didn't seem to be bleeding, they locked with his blue ones.
"Crista." He said and suddenly I was across the room with my arms thrown around his neck. Steve's arms clung to me like I was some sort of life line. My eyes had closed as I pressed my face into his shoulder and took a deep breath; he still smelled like Steve. I pulled back leaving my hands linked around his neck and looked up at him.
"What the fuck is going on?"