Petrichor was heavy in the air. Rain poured over the city. Clinging to every flower petal, every leaf, each drop waiting for it's chance to run down the object it was attached to. Sliding off the sides of every black umbrella, falling to the ground with the tears of those gathered around the black coffin. Flower arrangements littered the area, adding color to the group primarily dressed in black. One man stood out, dressed in funny outfit that was patriotic, a mask in one hand and a shield in the other.
"You and I," he said, staring at the dark casket. "Will always have unfinished business."
"Don't go." The phrase hung in the air as he was preparing to leave; his left hand tightened, gripping the door handle hard enough to break it. His blood ran cold at the sound of her tear-filled voice.
"It's not like I have a choice, duty calls." He murmured, trying not to let emotion seep through his voice.
"You do have a choice Steve, you're not under contract anymore." He couldn't bring himself to look at her, knowing that she was right, that tears were pouring down her beautiful face. "Don't leave me."
"I can't stay, Addison. You know that. You know I have to protect those people." His right hand tightened over his shield.
She sighed, admitting defeat, knowing she would never be able to convince him otherwise. "At least promise me you'll come back."
He finally turned to look at her, steel blue meeting a rather watery gray, and let go of the door. Steve dropped the shield and crossed the room to pull her into his arms. She was a tiny little thing, in comparison to his post-serum state, standing there limply with her face pressed against his broad chest. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt as she cried, frightened that this time he wouldn't be returning.
"I'll always come back, if I didn't you and I would always have unfinished business." It was something they'd always said. Ever since their first date when she told him that she hoped he would ask her out again.
"Of course," Steve Rogers had said, as he stared down at her. "If I didn't we'd always have unfinished business."
Now it was four years later, and they were living together in a beautiful house in Washington DC and they were getting married in a few weeks time. The dress was already hanging in a dark bag in the closet, the honeymoon was planned and Nick Fury was well aware of the wrath he would incur should he attempt to disrupt them.
Steve leaned to kiss Addison's head. There was suddenly a loud crash outside.
"I have to go." He murmured. She looked up at him.
"I love you." She reminded him as he let go of her.
"And I you." He told her gently, kissing her once again. He turned back to the door, picking up his shield and left.
Addison stood for a moment, staring at the door that he'd just exited. She sighed and turned around, heading into the kitchen.
She flipped on the small TV that was on the counter so she could watch what was going on while she prepared dinner. She knew it would probably be a few hours before Steve would be home so she thought to make a long complicated dish, which ended up with her making boeuf bouringon. Addison was long since glad that she had decided that what she wanted to do with her life was cook. It had lead to the decision to go to culinary school and in such Addison became an executive chef, making sure the restaurant she worked in ran smoothly and was always well stocked. It was on one of her morning runs to the farmers market that she had met Steve. He was at the market picking up fresh fruit for a few days worth of smoothies and she'd run in to him, literally in to him, among the produce. The force of it had knocked her on her ass, vegetables and spices flying every where and it wasn't until he was hit in the head with a particularly stiff onion that he'd even noticed someone had bumped into him. In that moment Steve Rogers turned around looking for the person he assumed was throwing produce at him, only to find Addison Richards looking a little dazed and trying to figure out where that onion had gone. For the first time, steel his blue eyes met her grey ones. He smiled softly down at her, offering his hand to help her up.
"Sorry I ran into you," she practically whispered, blushing.
"I'm sorry that I was oblivious to it." He told her with a slight chuckle.
"It's alright." She told him, taking his and and pulling herself up. Once standing he realized just how short she was. She stood, in flats, at 5'2" a full foot shorter than he did. A dark braid was slung in front of her shoulder, trailing past her impressive chest, and down to end a few inches above her navel. A grey beret was resting on top of her head, pinned in place. Addison was wear a black pair of chef's pants and an old, thick, grey sweater that looked rather homemade. The sweater looked like it was far to big for her, hanging loosely in all the places it ought to be hugging her curved.
"Damn you're short," he managed, unable to stop himself.
"And you're really tall." She said, sizing him up. After a quick once over she had to stop and stare.
"Oh no, please, don't-" he started as he saw the realization dawning on hey face.
"You're..." She couldn't form the sentence yet.
"Yes, I know I am." He was trying to avoid causing a scene, luckily for him she wasn't as stupid as most people.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Addison Richards." She held out her hand.
He took the proffered hand, "Steve Rogers." He replied.
"Well Steve, a big strong man like you, want to help me carry some of my groceries? I could use a few extra hands, if I want to get all this back to the kitchen on time. Tell you what, help me out and I'll make you breakfast."
For a moment he stared at her with his mouth hanging open. There was a beautiful woman standing in front of him, not making a scene because he was famous, offering him a real breakfast just so he would help her bring home some groceries. For a moment, he was a little disconcerted, the fact that he was famous made him feel like Addison was trying to kidnap her; but she was so God damn beautiful.
"Alright, what else do you need?" He couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.
"Well, just hold on to the stuff I pass you. All things considered I really don't need the produce. I probably ought to pick it all back up though." She turned around and bent over, leaning to pick up the produce she'd dropped when she'd fallen. All Steve could think about, however, was the way her ass looked in those pants. He wasn't a pervert, but as a man, sometimes certain things came to mind. He shook his head and watched as she stood up with an armful of produce. It was mostly onions, garlic, and carrots.
"I don't really trust my produce delivery guy with carrots." She told him.
"Delivery guy?" he asked.
"At the restaurant," She told him, placing the onions back in the bin.
"So, why have him deliver carrots if you don't trust them?"
"Because, he's my general source of produce. Doesn't really deliver spices though, and we do all our own. Basically I have a produce guy and a dairy guy, plus there's the butcher but he doesn't deliver so some of the line cooks go and pick up the meat. I really usually only make trips here for the fresh spices. Last week though, the guy delivered me some rather mushy carrots." She explained, holding on to the carrots as she put the rest of the produce away.
"Alright, so, what would you like for your breakfast?" She asked.
"Uhm, I usually just go for a good smoothie but, when I was younger I liked pancakes and eggs with bacon."
"Well, I promised a good breakfast so pancakes and eggs with bacon it is. Why don't you go grab some eggs and I'll finish picking up the spices."
Addison passed him the carrots and walked over to the stand where there was labeled greens. She picked out some cilantro and rosemary, along with basil, cumin and oregano. He came back holding a dozen eggs that had been given to him by a man with a chicken.
"Got everything?" he asked, approaching her.
"Absolutely. Here hold all this," Addison commanded, passing the mass of fresh spices to him and fishing her wallet out of the purse he hadn't realized she was carrying. "Follow me."
Addison lead Steve over to the man sitting with a cash box.
"Morning Fred." She greeted.
"Hello Addy girl. The usual?"
"Plus a dozen eggs and a few pounds of carrots Fred, how much do I owe you?"
"I'll give it to you for fifteen love." She counted the cash out of her wallet and passed it to him.
"See you tomorrow Fred."
"See you Addy."
"Come on then Steve, follow me. It's a short walk and I'm already running a little late." He sped up to follow her as she walked the few blocks back to the restaurant. Arriving at the back door, Addison fished out her keys and opened up the kitchen. He stepped into the warm space, glad to be out of the slightly chilly air, and nearly dropped the groceries he was holding.
The kitchen was huge and immaculate. He wasn't entirely sure what restaurant he was in but he knew it wasn't your run of the mill diner. She really wasn't trying to kidnap him.
Addison, for her part had crossed the room and was fiddling with a coffee pot. She turned away from it and it started to make noise. Within seconds the room was filled with the rich aroma of coffee, Addison meanwhile was putting the spices away in the fridge. Steve looked around the impressive kitchen wondering if there was anything he could do.
"There should be a stool," Addison told him, "by the phone. Go ahead and drag it over to the stove."
"Uhm, which stove?" he asked, after picking up the stool. She turned to look at him, standing there, completely lost. Addison glanced around and eventually pointed to the stove behind her, across from the large fridge. She pulled milk, coffee creamer, and butter out of the fridge behind her.
"Do you like berries in your pancakes?" She asked, and without waiting for an answer she walked around to a large steel door on the other side of the room. Pulling it open and stepping into it she grabbed some blackberries. When she emerged, he realized it was another refrigerator.
"Yeah sure, I could go for some." She smiled at him and his heart stopped. It wasn't until she turned around that he felt it kick back into gear. "How many fridges do you have in hear anyway?" He asked, trying to start a conversation.
"Well," Addison started, heading into a pantry. "There's the smaller fridge here for quick grab items like milk and eggs and butter, God knows we go through a ton of butter. Then there's the actual dairy fridge, to keep larger stores of things like butter and sour cream and cheese. There's the produce fridge where all the fruits and vegetables go. Lastly we have the meat fridge. We buy the meat every day so it's always fresh and produce comes every two days. Lastly there's the pantry," she explained as she was returning to the kitchen. "For flour and such." She was carrying the rest of the supplies to make pancakes and a jar of maple syrup. Walking into another fridge she grabbed a rasher of bacon. The coffee maker beeped as she was making sure she'd shut everything properly.
"You sure that you're management is going to be okay with you feeding a big guy like me breakfast? I mean, I can eat a hell of a whole lot."
"I actually own the joint." She told him.
"You own... All of this?" He asked, almost confused.
"Well, I didn't always. I took it over a few years ago when the previous owner retired. I've fixed it up quite a bit actually, not that the place was run down but... It wasn't all exactly to my tastes. How do you take your coffee?" Her arms were full, laden with ingredients to make him breakfast, and she was staring at him curiously.
"Cream and sugar are great." She nodded at him, dropping the pile onto the counter a little unceremoniously. She went to a cupboard above the coffee pot and grabbed two cups pouring coffee into both. Picking both of them up she brought them to the counter and she passed one to Steve.
"Addison..." he started, stirring milk and sugar into his coffee. "What made you want to become a chef? To own a place like this?"
"My mom... Well she wasn't exactly the best cook you see, and she never baked. When I was younger it eventually fell to me to take over meals and I really loved it." She started to explain as she began to fish around for the right pans and tools. "There's something about cooking, about creating something that anyone and everyone needs that just... Works for me." His mouth was hanging open a little at her explanation. "Now then, how do you take your eggs?"
"Go out with me." he suddenly blurted out. She raised an eyebrow but smiled all the same.
"I think I'd like that Steve Rogers, I think I'd like that indeed."
Addison was pulled out of her reminiscing by the sound of the oven timer going off. It must have been a few hours. She looked down at the cup of coffee in her hands as the news kept on playing in the background. It wasn't going well. She could see Steve, ever the hero, lobbing his shield in seemingly random directions. She'd been watching for hours and things just barely seemed to be calming down. Sighing, she stood and crossed the kitchen to take dinner out of the oven. Once it was resting on the stove she looked around, lost for a task to drown out what the TV was telling her. She flipped it off. With nothing better to do she started to pull out ingredients to make tiramisu. It seemed like tonight would be an evening for her favorites. She started with the lady finger cookies, separating the eggs and beating the ingredients together in the right order. Once they were portioned out on the pan and in the still hot oven she began work on the cream. She mixed the mascarpone with a healthy amount of sugar, a few egg yolks, and a small splash of rum, covered it, and placed it in the fridge to set. Addison then checked the cookies. Discovering that they were done she pulled them out of the oven and let them cool. She took the coffee that had long since gone cold in the pot and poured it into a bowl along with a few shots of rum. Mixing the two liquids together her mind began to wander a bit, going over a mental checklist of all the wedding information. She had the dress, the flowers were arranged, the honeymoon was payed for, the cake was chosen, they'd set up a venue and had put down far more than the down payment, Steve's tux was ready, the invitations and RSVPs were handled, she'd found a caterer and a DJ, they had an officiator, and... The list stopped there. Addison had this nagging sense that she was forgetting something but couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was. Perhaps it was just the stress of the wedding. It was a lot of planning to take care of.
The cookies had cooled enough to be dipped in the coffee-rum mixture and the cream had set up rather nicely. She got out a nice dish to put everything in and stood at the counter layering the dripping cookies and the sweet custard. She was so distracted by her busy work that she didn't hear Steve come in, or the clang of his shield falling to the floor. Actually, she didn't know he was there until his arms were around her waist and good head was resting on top of hers. It was then that Addison jumped.
"Steve!" She exclaimed. "You frightened me half to death!"
"Well, at least it was only half." He murmured tiredly, cracking a smile. She turned around to face him, a large grin spreading across her face.
"Are you hungry?" She asked.
"Starved. But I should probably shower before tucking in to that delicious scent."
"Tell you what, go grab a shower and I'll finish this up and once it's setting in the fridge I'll bring you up some pajamas and I'll bring up some dinner and we can lay in bed and relax, watch a movie, eat and once this is finished setting we can eat up all the tasty tiramisu." She suggested, laying her hands on his chest.
He brought goes hands up to her face, caressing it before cupping it in his hands. Leaning down a bit he caught her lips with his own and pulled her into a deep kiss. Eventually he pulled away. Giving her one more quick kiss he left her standing in the kitchen as he went to get in the shower. He stopped in the door way.
"I love you Addy."
"I love you too Steve." He smiled at her as she turned back to her work, and watched her for a moment before heading up the stairs.
Addison finished layering the dessert and put the dish in the refrigerator. She turned her attention to preparing two bowls of the French beef stew that was slowly cooling atop the stove. She placed both bowls on a tray with a pair of spoons and grabbed what was left of the bottle of red wine she had used earlier. She also grabbed two wine glasses and organized everything neatly on the tray.
Picking up the now heavy tray Addison made her way up the stairs. She could hear the water running in the bathroom as she climbed the steps. Arriving in the bedroom she saw Steve's outfit thrown on the floor. Smiling softly she set the tray down on the bed and picked up the clothes on the floor. She threw the clothes into the hamper and set about pulling out clean pajamas for her and Steve. She crossed the room and started opening drawers pulling out a white t-shirt and soft, green pajama pants and pairs of both socks and boxers for him; meanwhile for herself she pulled out a warm pair of black pajamas and a clean set of underwear, plus her favorite fuzzy green socks.
Addison walked into the bathroom and opened up the linen closet and pulled out a towel. Considering it for a moment she pulled out a second one and placed the pile on top of the bathroom counter. Quickly she stripped down and threw her laundry in another hamper. Opening the glass shower door she stepped in behind Steve. He was so lost in his own thoughts about what had happened that day that he didn't realize she was behind him. She wrapped her arms around him. He didn't jump, he didn't even flinch. He smiled though and turned to face her.
"Think I can get some of that water there Cap?" She asked. He chuckled quietly, snaking his arms around her and picking her up in order to turn them around so she was under the hot steam. Water was cascading all down her, wetting her hair and then sliding down her breasts. He stared at her, his eyes changing from distracted to almost hungry. Leaning down, Steve kissed her again deeply. He shifted slightly and pressed himself against her. She could feel his dick hardening against her as he ran his arms down her body, continuing to kiss her.
Suddenly he picked her up, his hands under her thighs. She brought her hands to his face, opening her mouth. He took the opportunity and slid his tongue into her mouth as he slammed her down on his dick. She groaned, pulling away from the kiss to lay her head on his shoulder. Steve, for his part, didn't stop at all. Rather, he started fucking her, adjusting his arms so one was around her back and one was under her ass. She wrapped her legs around his back and her arms around his shoulders. clinging to him as he pounded in and out of her; his breathing was speeding up. She was getting close, and he was nowhere near stopping, but he could feel her tightening around him as he thrust in and out of her, knowing what it meant. He sped up, grunting a little with the effort it was taking. Suddenly, Addison was screaming his name as her body shook on top of his with her orgasm. He nuzzled his face into the side of her neck as he continued to thrust, grunts of effort turning into small moans of pleasure. Steve knew, it was almost over. But Addison was still so tight and he felt like she just kept getting tighter. Her breathing hadn't slowed down since her orgasm, if anything it had sped up. She was getting close again.
"Come on baby," He growled. "Give it to me."
And once more she came undone and he spilled his seed inside her. He stopped thrusting but kept holding her now limp form against him, cradling her. Eventually they disentangled from each other and continued with a regular shower. Once they were both fully scrubbed and dressed in the soft pajamas they cuddled down into the bed, ate the dinner she had made that was now cold, and fell asleep.
The next two weeks passed in relative peace. Nothing was happening out in the world that caused Steve to be called away from home so he spent most of the time in the kitchen at Addison's restaurant, watching her run things and running any little errands she might have for him. But eventually duty called, and Steve was once again attempting to save the world. They had, of course, had the same argument but this time she insisted she wasn't going to just sit at home and worried. Instead once he had left she grabbed her shoes and her keys and followed him out. It wasn't until he saw a familiar flash of grey eyes that he even realized she had followed him, and it was several hours later. Unfortunately for all the people he had saved, he couldn't save her.
She was laying, half crushed under a car. She wasn't screaming or crying or even begging to be saved, she was just laying there. Her eyes were wide and mouth was open as she was struggling for breath. Steve saw her and ran over to her, kneeling at her side.
"Hi Captain," she struggled to greet him with the only smile she could muster.
"Addison." His voice was broken, as he said her name. "What are you doing here? What happened? Why couldn't you just listen to me for once!" Tears were starting to fill his eyes. She reached up and caressed his face.
"I was worried about you, but I guess I should have been more worried about myself. Listen I need you to do something for me." At this point he was almost frantic, trying to calculate whether or not he could get the car off of her, and even if he could whether or not it was wise to do without knowing how much damage it had done to her.
"Anything." He choked out, bringing his attention back to her.
"The dress." She mumbled. "If I don't make it out of this, I want to be wearing the dress."
"What dress?" He asked, confused now.
"The dress, Steve. The wedding dress. If I don't make it out of this you deserve to see me in it at least once. Now stop worrying so much about me Cap, and go save the world."
He leaned in for one last kiss, and went to do her bidding. Several hours later he found her, still under the car but no longer breathing. In that moment, Steve lost it. Addison, the only woman he'd even been slightly interested in since he'd been defrosted, was gone.
Petrichor was heavy in the air. Rain poured over the city. Clinging to every flower petal, every leaf, each drop waiting for it's chance to run down the object it was attached to. Sliding off the sides of every black umbrella, falling to the ground with the tears of those gathered around the black coffin. Flower arrangements littered the area, adding color to the group primarily dressed in black. One man stood out, dressed in funny outfit that was patriotic, a mask in one hand and a shield in the other.
"You and I," he said, staring at the dark casket. "Will always have unfinished business."
Inside of the casket, the love of his life was dressed in the most beautiful white dress he'd ever seen. Her hair had been curled softly forming large, beautiful waves around her face. The mortician had brought at least a little life back into her face by adding soft colors to her cheeks, but Steve knew.
Addison's beautiful grey eyes would never stare back at him from under her long lashes again. Her laughter would never fill the room, her voice would never carry out orders in the kitchen, her hands would never again create something that anyone and everyone would need.
And so it came to be that on the day that there should have been a beautiful wedding, there was a heartbreaking funeral.