I do not own Luke Cage or any of its characters.
One shot.
Luke didn't know why it bothered him so much. He only heard it in passing, and it wasn't spoken directly to him. Yet, it bothered him. He wondered if he truly represented Harlem. Then again, he wasn't from Harlem. Still, he was Harlem's self-appointed protector. Granted, he started out reluctant to protect it at first.
"Cage ain't no Shaft. He doesn't fit in with the rest of us in Harlem," the stranger had said in a gas station line while watching a news piece about Cage. Luke had been standing at the end of the line.
"Do you think I represent Harlem? I mean, do you think I fit in?" Luke asked Claire one morning at breakfast. She gave him a questioning look, so he explained.
"There's nothing wrong with being bold and brash, but if everyone in Harlem is supposed to act a certain way, then it would be a stereotype. Am I supposed to act like Cleopatra Jones because I'm from Harlem?" Claire told him.
"You do act like her, a little," Luke teased, responding to her question. Claire rolled her eyes.
"Even Stokes didn't have a Shaft persona…he was more of a Scarface type," Clair added.
Later, Claire sat in her mother's diner having a cup of coffee. She thought about what the conversation from this morning.
Luke wasn't the Shaft or James Bond type, thankfully. She didn't like the cocky, arrogant types. James Bond was too smarmy. Besides, both men were fictional. Luke had a different persona. Upon further thinking, she realized he was similar to a certain American icon.
Luke Cage was a modern American cowboy. Sure, cowboys were stereotypes too, but Luke was more like one than a Shaft or Bond type. Not many African-Americans were compared to cowboys, despite being the first cowboys in the U.S.
Luke was calm, cool, and collected. He had a strong presence, but it was on the stoic side. He was firm in a quiet way. The way he faced his enemy reminded Claire of a cowboy. He stood tall and faced his enemies head on with shoulders squared. He eyes did the talking while his mouth remained silent. A man of few words. Soft spoken because he didn't have to be loud. His stance was cowboy like too.
Living in Harlem and Hell's Kitchen was probably something akin to living in the Wild West. Violence, guns, shady salons, police corruption, lawlessness, grasping for livelihood, taking matters into your own hands, etc. were all similar aspects. It was funny to Claire that despite industrialization and development how much of the Wild West spirit remained in the nation. The spirit was embedded in it and had been there since the country's founding.
It made sense then that if the spirit of the Wild West remained, then there would still be modern cowboys. Sheriffs too as Claire thought of Misty Knight. Misty being a modern day Wyatt Earp.
When Claire told Luke he was a modern day cowboy, he gave her his soft, deep laugh and shy smile. He nodded his approval as he laughed at the thought of being a cowboy.
"Not everyone is Shaft or Bond, but not everyone is a cowboy either," Claire smirked.
Once again, Claire brought some light and humor into his life.
"I actually thought of Robin Hood," Luke shared.