Title: Candyman
Summary: Lips like sugar cane; he was a sweet-talking, sugar-coated, candyman. Steve/OC (Captain/OC)
Full Summary: It was a Monday, a cool day with the sun barely peeking through a thick set of clouds. A meaningless stroll through the park ends in something a little more meaningful than what it began as.
Chapter Title: Like Some Other Men Do
A/N: Hey guys, trying my hand again at this writing thing, again. It's not going so well. xD
Hope you enjoy, I'll try and update this as regularly as possible, especially since the Avengers movie is coming out soon. C: Also, Believe in the Unbelievable is on Hiatus still. Need to bring back my muse. I've got so many ideas running around in my head that I need to calm my tits and sort them out before I restart that. But, hopefully, I'll be able to work on that more this summer.
N-E-WAY! Reviews are nice; I'd love to hear from y'all! :D
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The future was strange. A land unexplored to him; a new territory he must discover and learn to survive in. Steve sighed, shoving his hands into the warmth of his jacket pockets, puttering slowly past people as they walked in and out of central park. The trees lined the walkways and loomed above him as he made his trek through the semi-familiar territory. He watched children play, street performers catch the eyes of audiences, and couples stroll together lovingly. He thought back to Peggy and ground his teeth at the thought of his past sweetheart. Fury had informed him she had passed at the age of sixty eight—brain cancer. She was buried in England, but SHIELD refused to give him the go-ahead to travel anywhere other than New York.
Steve kicked at a rock causing it to skip ahead of him for several blocks. He winced as it cracked and shattered at the base of a tree. He rubbed the back of his neck, tired and frustrated at his situation.
"You can't leave the area. We have an apartment ready for you in Brooklyn, but you can only travel in the vicinity. We cannot allow you to leave New York." Fury was a stoic man, with constantly furrowed eyebrows that seem to ask, angrily, 'Are you talking to me?' He was intimidating, to say the least, but Steve was still in slight shock at having not twenty-four hours ago woken up in the distant future.
He ran a shaky hand through his already disheveled blond hair. He looked up quickly when it was apparent that Fury was not going to continue his rant and was waiting for Steve to respond.
"Can I go for a walk?" He asked quickly, hands shaking slightly.
Fury gave a grunt of disapproval, but nodded slowly.
Fury had let him go for a walk, but several field agents were following him at all times. He wasn't truly alone; he couldn't have the alone-time he so desperately craved to sort through what had just happened.
"Regrets collect like old friends, here to relive your darkest moments. I can see no way, I can see no way, and all of the ghouls come out to play." Steve stopped, hearing the gentle strumming of a guitar, and a soft voice that echoed around him. He turned, seeing a small woman sitting on the ground, guitar case placed in front of her as she softly tapped a tambourine, while a lanky man sat next to her playing the acoustic guitar. Steve stopped in the middle of the pathway, simply watching to two quietly.
"And every demon wants his pound of flesh, but I like to keep some things to myself. I like to keep my issues drawn; it's always darkest before the dawn." Her face was down and she had the hood of a brown leather cloak draped over her head. She continued her rhythmic tapping, voice hauntingly soft and soothing amongst the quiet mumbling of the park around him. He faced them, a small smile coming to his lips as he forgot what he had been thinking about for the moment.
"Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa. Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa. And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back, so shake him off, oh whoa." The woman began to sway slightly, picking up the pace of her banging against the tambourine. Steve found himself tapping his foot slightly to the beat as he watched the two play; the girls harmonious voice a melodic contrast to the gentle caress of the guitar's strings. The two instruments worked well together.
As the song came to an end, Steve found himself surrounded by several other clapping people who stepped forward and dropped coins and dollar bills into the guitar case. Steve pulled a crumpled twenty from his pocket, one of many that Fury had given him to use, and happily placed it into the case.
Stepping back, Steve frowned when the woman looked slowly up at him, matching eyes with him. He couldn't help but feel as if she was staring straight into him, seeing past his exterior and into his being; he felt naked. He blushed, coughing softly into his fist as she continued to stare at him.
She smiled, plump pink lips stretching gently with the movement. Steve found himself blushing harder as he caught his eyes wandering from her lips and down the smooth contours of her jaw and neck. He brought his gaze back up to the clear cerulean of her eyes. "Do you have a request?" Her voice was smooth and silky, and calmed his itching nervousness from being around a woman.
Steve stuttered. "Um… Do you know Why Don't You Do Right? Peggy Lee? I-I know it's not that modern but-"
The guitarist began strumming, making up beautifully for the lack of piano, his fingers picking and caressing against the instrument lovingly. The woman grinned, showing straight white teeth as she began the soft banging of her tambourine. "You had plenty of money in 1922. You let other women make a fool of you. Why don't you do right, like some other men do?" Her voice became smoky and low, like she was in a jazz club. She shut her eyes and began to sway softly, tapping her tambourine.
"Get out of here, get me some money too." Slowly, she stood. Her hips were swinging softly and the cloak she wore fell in folds around her as it slipped off of her person, revealing a rather curvy figure. Steve's blush deepened as his fists clenched in his pockets.
"You're sittin' down and wonderin' what it's all about. If you ain't got no money, they will put you out. Why don't you do right, like some other men do?" Her lips formed the words smoothly, seductively, and a crowd of men began to form around the two performers. "Get out of here, get me some money too."
She bit her lips, her blue eyes making their way to Steve's as she continued to dance suggestively, beckoning him over with her finger. "Now if you had prepared 20 years ago, you wouldn't be a wanderin' now from door to door. Why don't you do right, like some other men do?" Steve stood rooted to his spot as she dipped and swayed to the music, tousling her hair and putting on one hell of a performance. Steve felt a firm pat on his back that jostled him out of his stupor. Wolf whistles were sent his way as the strange woman continued to beckon Steve to her. He gulped, but slowly stepped towards the woman.
"Get out of here, get me some money too." She swayed towards him, her hips hypnotizing him as they moved back and forth. He quickly looked back up to her eyes, turning with her as she circled around him slowly, placing a delicate palm against his chest as she moved. "Get out of here, get me some money too."
Suddenly, she grabbed his hands and pulled him forward, only to move herself back and force Steve to dip her so she didn't fall to the ground. He gripped her waist firmly, heart pounding in his throat as the curve of her bosom sat right in front of him, her chest moving up and down dramatically as she breathed. "Why don't you do right, like some other men do?" She lifted her right leg up and around Steve's. He felt his neck, ears, and face heat up drastically at her boldness. He brought her back up and steadied her, backing up an arms-length away.
She grinned as he did so, while the group of people that had gathered around clapped and whistled, placing money in the guitar case before wondering back off.
"I-you… why did?—I mean: that was-" Steve moved his hands between him and the woman several times, trying to find the right words for what just happened, but they were lost on his tongue.
The woman laughed, placing a hand on one of her full hips as she smiled at his actions. "Sorry if I startled you, handsome," Steve felt his mouth go dry, "I thought that's what you were asking for, I mean, with such a suggestive song and all. I just wanted to say thanks for the twenty; it's not very often we get people who are nice enough to put that much in our tip-jars." Her eyes shined with mirth as Steve continued to remain speechless, finding it hard to form the words he wished to say.
She raised a delicate brow at his questionable silence. "Hello?" she mumbled, waving a hand in front of his face.
"What's your name?" Steve found himself asking, startled by his own question.
She just laughed, reaching her hand out for him to shake, "The names October Addams, most people just call me Tobi, though. How 'bout you, mysterious stranger?"
Steve shook her hand slowly, watching as his own larger hand seemed to engulf her delicate, petite one. "Steve." He smiled, finally calming down. Her hand was soft in his grip, her skin supple and smooth to the touch, unlike his overly calloused hands.
"Steve, what?" She tilted her head to the side in question.
Fury's voice rang through his head: "Lay low, and don't tell anyone your real name."
"Barnes." Steve whispered, taking the name of his long-time friend, "Steve Barnes." He smiled softly, remembering Bucky.
"Well, 'Barnes, Steve Barnes,'" Tobi chuckled, joking with Steve, "Thanks for the dance. You're very light on your feet." She grinned as he blushed again. "You know, you blush a lot, for a big guy."
"Well, I-uhh… I don't really talk to women that, um.. often." He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.
"I couldn't tell, you're such a smooth, um.. talker." Tobi laughed when he covered his face with his hand and groaned. "Hey, s'alright. I happen to think you're very charming." She smiled, stepping closer to Steve suggestively. He felt his heart race. She was flirting. Bucky had told him about flirting. He just couldn't remember how to do it.
"Uhhh!" He yelled, wincing at the volume of his own voice.
She giggled, looking up at him with bright blue eyes. "You should have more confidence in yourself Mr. Steve Barnes. You're a nice guy, and I bet you any girl would love to be in your company." Her smile was soft, and her voice sincere. Steve smiled back, shoving his hands deep into his pockets once more as he rocked onto his heel happily.
"Anyway, gotta get going. It was nice meeting you Steve Barnes. Next time you're in Central Park, look me up. I'd love to sing for you again." She winked, turning back to her guitarist who sat off to the side, quietly placing the money from the case into a big bag.
Steve watched her as she walked, her hips swaying and her head held high. She screamed confidence and nerve. Steve also found himself studying her figure intently; she was curvy, bigger than some woman, but she wore it well. Her wild mane of red hair was like a fiery halo, suiting her fiery personality. Steve's smile widened as he turned and walked away, thinking of the way she moved and bent as she danced to the seductive Jazz song.
Steve soon found himself at the other end of the park, mind wondering back to the fact he was no longer in his time period, but seventy years into the future. He heaved a sigh, scratching his head as he tried to find peace in that idea.
But all he could find was sorrow.
Then he thought of October, spinning and dancing in front of him with a gentle, dimpled smile. He found himself grinning, and wanting to see her again. As he began to turn around, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. "Rogers, it's time to get back to headquarters, Agent Fury needs to speak with you." The static voice of some unnamed agent brought him out of his head. He glanced back behind him into the sereneness of Central Park, and the path back to the wonderful street performer that had caught his interest. He sighed, letting the air escape through his nostrils as he huffed and followed after several SHIELD agents who keep track of him.
Tomorrow. He thought, smirking at the idea. I'll see her tomorrow.