Notes: For Dresupi. Inspired by Crimson & Clover by Dresupi.

So, I was reading a chapter of Dresupi's Crimson and Clover series and Bruce takes Alice out on a date to a drive-in. He tells Alice that Steve told him about this place. And, yes, my head exploded. :D

This version of Steve and Maria, down to the Pumpkin Spice Latte, belongs to Dresupi, as does Alice.

Anyway, it got kind of long because I wanted to incorporate Dresupi's headcanon as well. :)

Title from a quote in Now, Voyager, a classic Bette Davis film.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)


"It's a movie."

Lieutenant Hill's voice pulled Steve out of his thoughts as Sitwell walked away from them.

"What?"

"What Jasper said, it's a quote from a movie," she explained.

"OK," he said and turned back to the computer in front of him.

He'd become proficient enough to do all the usual tasks people used them for now. Today he and Hill had been discussing programming languages and he'd been fiddling around trying to use the codes she gave him to do the things she said they would.

"It bugs you," she said.

"What?"

She chuckled mirthfully, the corners of her mouth not even twitching up, her only humor was in her eyes.

"That people keep throwing obscure modern quotes at you then not explaining them," he said.

He opened his mouth to object but Maria waved her hand lazily through the air to cut him off.

"Don't even bother," she said. "You're a lousy liar."

He felt himself frown and turned his eyes back to the computer.

"War Games," she said.

He looked up at her. That didn't sound like a code at all.

"The movie, it's called War Games," she said. "It came out in 82, starred Matthew Broderick. It was pretty cutting edge at the time."

"What's it about?" he asked, glad that a person would explain it to him.

Steve didn't mind doing his own research online; however, he enjoyed talking to people, and he didn't seem to get that a lot at SHIELD. People were either too in awe, or too busy flirting, for him to hold a conversation with them. Maria Hill was neither, and that had always been a huge relief to him.

"A high school boy gets into trouble when he tries to hack NORDAQ's computer," she says. "He thinks it's just a game at first because the computer asks him, "Do you want to play a game?""

"Oh." Steve nodded, understanding Sitwell's reference better now.

"You should watch it," she said.

Steve pulled a small spiral note-book out of his back pocket and pushed the little pencil out of the top.

"War Games," he wrote on the page.

"Thanks," he said.

He didn't think much about it the rest of the day. He had many things on that list: Movies, music, important historical events. The next day Hill met him in a hallway on her way out of town. She pulled a box from her purse, and handed it to him.

He smiled at her after reading the title.

"You really want me to watch this," he said.

She didn't react at all, merely shrugged with one shoulder.

"I have the DVD, you might as well borrow it," she said.

Then she walked around him and continued down the hall.

"Thanks," he called after her.

She turned and nodded coolly at him then turned the corner out of sight, her carry-on case rolling behind her.

He watched it that evening, twice. He enjoyed it. He wondered, though, if it wasn't because there was a personal connection to it. The thing he missed most about this new century, after his friends, was friendliness, kind gestures, and the like. Hill loaning him this DVD was one of the few he'd seen. He knew he could never tell her that. She just didn't seem the type of woman who would appreciate the sentiment. He tried to think of something else he could do; however, short of asking for ideas, which she'd probably appreciate less, he came up blank.

She returned three days later and Steve intentionally sought her out in the mess hall. It was late and there were only a few people in the room. She was eating a chicken sandwich and reading something on the tablet in her free hand.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked.

She looked up, cocked an eyebrow, and then scanned the room, before looking back at him, a question in her eyes.

He handed her the DVD box he held under his tray. She took it and nodded at the seat across from her.

"I really enjoyed it," he said as he pulled out the chair and sat down.

"Good," was her only comment.

"I have some questions, though," he said.

He expected her to roll her eyes or to heave out a sigh. Why, he didn't know. She never had. But for some reason he felt nervous now, as if he was about to enter into a personal conversation she'd rather not have.

She simply looked at him expectantly.

Steve asked his questions and she answered them all patiently, as if she wasn't the Deputy Director of an enormous government operation. He'd always liked that about her. Her patience with him was infinite. But then, her patience with most people was, so long as they didn't behave like, well, Stark.

"None of this technology seems shocking to you," she commented.

"Well, it's just like being in an old science fiction flick." He shrugged, then downed the last of his milk,

"I never really watched the old movies," she said.

"Oh, that's too bad, there were some wonderful movies back in the day," he said.

He would have winked at her over his use of the phrase, but that didn't seem appropriate either so he settled for a half-grin.

"I'll take your word for it," she said.

"Now, if you don't have further questions," she looked at him.

He shook his head and she stood to leave.

He watched her walk out the mess hall doors, and a plan began to formulate in his mind.

Two days later he caught her in the parking structure.

"Lieutenant Hill," he called just as she was getting into her car.

She paused and waited for him, one leg still outside. He noticed, not for the first time, that despite what he would consider her leanness, she had very nice gams. Legs, he corrected in his head. Either way, it wouldn't do to point it out to her.

He handed her a DVD box.

"The Jazz Singer?" she questioned.

"It's the first talkie," he said.

"I know," she replied.

"You've watched it?" he asked, almost disappointed.

She shook her head as she looked at the box.

"Not the original version," she said.

"There's another version?" he asked.

She nodded.

"1980, Neil Diamond," she said.

Then she looked up at him.

"Thanks," she said.

He nodded as she pulled her leg into her car and allowed him to close the car door for her. As he watched her drive away, he pulled out his notebook and wrote "New Jazz Singer," on the page.

Steve was in the Avengers lounge in the tower reading when JARVIS announced "Agent Hill's" arrival. He stood to greet her and she handed him two DVD boxes.

"I'm here to meet with Banner, but I wanted to return your movie," she said.

Steve looked and, along with his, was a copy of the newer version of the movie.

"Thanks," he smiled at her.

Maria simply nodded then returned to the lift and proceeded to the lab level.

Steve stared at the box for a moment before he pushed the button for the lift as well and returned to his quarters to watch the film.

Two nights later, he found her in the mess hall again. He returned her DVD with a WC Fields DVD. She waved to the seat across from her and he sat.

"How'd you like the modern version?" she asked.

They began to discuss the films and then moved on to other movies. Steve found she had as great a knowledge of modern films as he had of the now classics.

"It's hot in Chicago in the summer," was all she said by way of explanation of how many films she'd seen.

When Maria looked to be stifling a yawn, Steve looked at his watch.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's nearly 1am. I've kept you too long."

She waved off the apology and stood. He walked out with her and said goodnight.

Four days later he received a package from DC. Enclosed was his WC Fields movie along with a movie entitled, Dumb and Dumber. A yellow sticky note was on it. "This is what you get for making me watch WC Fields," was all Maria had written. The movie was as bad, or maybe just as shocking, as her note had made it sound.

After that the DVDs and the conversation began to flow freely. Steve looked forward to whatever film Maria had picked. Maria liked gritty dramas and musicals, so Steve searched out Cagney and Astaire. He preferred historical films and comedies so she handed him off The Right Stuff and Beverly Hills Cop.

Their conversations transitioned from the mess hall to coffee shops and walks around Central Park, and began to expand beyond film. Steve looked forward to each meeting with her.

Several months along Steve sat down to breakfast with the morning paper. Tony mocked him incessantly about it. Steve wasn't daft when it came to reading the news online, but the paper gave him a sense of familiarity, as if not every last thing had changed since he had gone under the ice.

An article in the Lifestyle section caught his eye.

Four hours later, Steve knocked on Maria's office door.

"Come in," her sharp voice came through the door.

She was looking up at him as he opened the door and the way her face softened, so subtly that he wondered if she was even aware she did it, caught him by surprise, and caused his stomach to flip involuntarily.

She nodded in greeting and waved him to a chair across her desk from her.

He sat dutiful and tried to recall the reason he'd come here in the first place.

"How can I help you, Steve?" she asked.

"Well, I, uh."

He paused a moment. She was going to think he was an idiot, was the only thing that would come to his mind.

"Is everything OK?" she asked.

Her brow furrowed slightly and Steve tried to concentrate on his words. He should have written them down.

He shook himself internally.

"Yes, uh, I was reading the newspaper," he paused again, this time because he thought she might have some comment. Most people did.

"If you're waiting me to insult you, or to make some joke about your age, you're wasting our time," she said.

And just like that, Steve relaxed, couldn't even recall why he'd been nervous in the first place. This was Maria Hill, after all, she was too busy to bother with that sort of thing.

"Sorry," he said with a slight grin.

She raised one eyebrow at him.

"Right, I was reading the paper and there was a piece in the Lifestyle section about a theater a bit upstate," he said. "It's called 'Moonlight' and it runs classic films once a week.

"So I looked it up online and this week they are playing The Prisoner of Zenda and King Kong," he told her.

"Interesting combination," she said.

Her words buoyed his hopes. She didn't make comments like that to other people. He'd been watching her, not in a creepy, stalking way, but to get a feel for where he stood with her. With others she was brief, even blunt. With him she softened, with him she engaged in conversation, even wasting words as she didn't with other friends.

"I was wondering if you'd like to join me," he said.

She blinked twice, her face shifted slightly and Steve thought she appeared surprised.

"At a drive-in?" she asked.

"Yes, it is a drive-in," he said. "You've been there?"

She shook her head, but Steve thought she was more cautious now. In fact, as he watched her he could see her close off. The soft look that had been on her face when he'd entered hardened into one she usually wore when she was speaking to someone she didn't trust.

"I really don't think that's a good idea, Captain," she said.

The use of his title in private made him realize he'd crossed some line, though he had no idea what it was.

He nodded silently and excused himself.

That night he sat on the sofa in the Avengers lounge and listened as Clint and Tony argued about which bodily function and related noise was the most annoying. Natasha sat curled up on an arm chair at the other end of the sofa. She had her iPod headphones on and appeared oblivious to the goings on of the room, though Steve knew better.

When Tony and Clint finally left to apparently test their theories on unsuspecting people throughout the building, Steve sighed and leaned his head back on the sofa.

"What's wrong with you, Cap?" Natasha asked.

"Just tired," he replied.

"I don't think so," she said.

He lifted his head and looked at her. Her gaze bore into him and Steve found himself wanting to ask if she was sure she didn't have any super powers. There was always something in that look that made him feel like spilling all his secrets.

"You just sat through an obnoxious conversation between Clint and Tony," she said. "You usually excuse yourself when it gets that bad."

He sighed and shook his head. When he looked back at Natasha he thought he might tell her, at least a bit, she was sure to be able to explain women to him.

"I asked a friend, who happens to be a girl," he'd learned quickly he had to be careful how to phrase that, "to go to see a movie I thought she'd like, at a drive-in. And, well, I just don't get it. She got upset. Is there some sort of new social code for asking a friend to go to a movie?"

Natasha started laughing and Steve felt the blush creep up the back of his neck.

"You asked a friend, who is a girl, to a drive-in?" she chuckled and shook her head as if she thought that the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

"Is that not allowed?" Steve asked.

Considering the things that were allowed these days it seemed odd that this wouldn't be.

"Oh, it's allowed," she said. "It's just that anyone who hears about it will completely interpret it as a date."

"Why? We're just friends going to a movie," he complained.

"No, you're a guy and girl going to a drive-in," she said, still laughing.

Steve had no reply because he had a feeling that there was in inference he had missed.

Natasha finally had pity on him and explained.

"Traditionally, a guy would ask a girl to a drive-in so they could make out," she said.

Steve's jaw dropped open. Oh, no wonder Maria had reacted the way she had. He rubbed his hands over his face.

"Just explain to her you didn't know," she said. "I'm sure she'll understand, especially if she knows how out of date you are."

Steve glared at her as she stood and walked toward the lift, laughing as she went.

When she entered he heard her murmur, "Drive-in, what an idiot."

He wasn't due into SHIELD the next morning but he went and sought out Maria. He found her waiting for the lift on one of the training levels. He walked up to her and spoke softly so no one around could hear.

"Maria, I need to apologize for yesterday," he said.

She looked at him, her face surprisingly nervous. The lift doors opened and she indicated for him to enter with her.

When the doors closed he began his explanation.

"I had no idea what sorts of things went on at a drive-in," he said. "I never would have asked you if I thought you'd, well, I didn't mean it the way it must have sounded to you."

Maria gave him a slight smile and shook her head.

"I over reacted, Rogers," she said. "I realized later it was stupid of me. You'd never think of me like that."

Steve almost nodded but stopped. The bell for the level she'd pushed dinged and the doors slid open. She bid him good day and Steve watched her walk away from him, solidly aware for the first time that he had indeed been thinking of her in just that way.

He walked back to the Tower from SHIELD and thought about what Maria said. The more he thought about it the more it upset him. He wasn't sure why she was so certain he'd never think of her in a romantic way, but Steve knew he had to do something about this. It was obvious to him now he didn't want to go on being just friends. Discussing movies over coffee was nice but Steve wanted something closer. He wanted to know her. He wanted to understand why, the few times he'd brought up Chicago, she'd glanced away and quickly changed the subject. He wanted to know how a woman whom everyone seemed to think cold as ice had time to talk with an out-of-time super-soldier about movies and any other stupid question he could come up with. And he had to admit now, he came up with quite a few. Anything to have an excuse to talk to her, but especially to hear her call him "Steve."

He hadn't wanted to consider it before, but when she did, the feeling he had reminded him of the one when Peggy would call him "Stephen." It made him feel as if he was someone important to her, something more than Captain America. And now he wanted to know if he was, because she had become very important to him.

Sunday morning found him, Pumpkin Spice Latte in hand, in the lobby of Maria's apartment building and waited for the concierge to get Maria on the phone. He fought the belief that this was probably going to get him a very bad assignment as the man spoke briefly then hung up.

"Apartment 805," he said and waved him toward the elevator where another uniformed man waited.

Steve wondered absently as they ascended quickly to the eighth floor, if all these men were SHIELD or if Maria actually trusted them enough to keep anyone away who might come after her.

That thought only made him more nervous. It was a reminder of who she was, and what was at stake for her if he could convince her to go on a real date with him.

The doors slid open and Steve walked down the hall and knocked. Maria opened the door and gave him a questioning look as she waved him in and he handed her the Pumpkin Latte.


Steve listened to the conversation Maria had with Sitwell though he tried to concentrate on the film they were watching through the windscreen.

"It's just a movie," Maria replied to something Jasper had said. "I don't know, which one, I just have it playing in the background. Are we finished here?"

She hung up the phone and set it on the dash.

"Sorry, sometimes I have to lie to keep my private life private," she said. "Besides, if I told him where I really was, he'd think we were sitting here making out."

Steve took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth. She was either going to kiss him or slap him, he supposed. But he couldn't keep putting this off, not without regretting it.

"Actually, that is the reason I wanted to come to the drive-in tonight," he said.

She looked at him in surprise.

"I mean, not at first," he added quickly. "I really didn't know about it. But after I found out and I thought about it."

"I," she paused a few seconds. "I don't understand."

"What's to understand about me wanting to kiss you," he asked.

"You?" Steve would have laughed at her confusion if he wasn't afraid she'd misunderstand. He'd never seen her this flabbergasted before. It was usually him feeling out of his element and she rescuing him. "Why?"

Her question took him aback.

"Why?" he repeated incredulously. "Because you're," he sighed. "You're quite possibly the most amazing person I've met. You're strong and capable, you don't let anyone push you around, you don't like bullies," he smirked and blushed. "You're beautiful and smart and you might just be the kindest person I know."

Now she really did look confused.

"Kind is nothing I've ever been accused of being before," she said. Her face showed she was wary.

"Maybe no one else was looking for it," he told her. "Maria, I've watched you for a while now and I see it. The way you check to make sure everyone is OK after an op. The way you look after your friends. The way you've taken care of me, even when you have a million more important things to do."

She was shaking her head and Steve was trying not to become frustrated.

"You mean to tell me you think I really didn't know the answers to at least some of the ridiculous questions I bring to you?" he smirked.

"I, uh, I wondered, but I was never sure," she said, and trailed off.

"I didn't want to frustrate you, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, to be in your company," he said. "To hear you say my name."

Steve could tell something in that struck a nerve. While she still looked surprised, her eyes darkened and her pulse quickened as her tongue darted out quickly to lick her lips and her eyes glanced down to his own lips then back up to look at him.

Her reaction had an affect him and he began to feel things he hadn't entertained in a long time. He almost was unsure how to react when he noticed that, of its own volition, his body was leaning into hers and she was watching him in obvious anticipation. When she didn't pull away as he leaned closer he placed a hand on her shoulder and slid it around her neck to tip her head up to him and pull her closer to him. She gave way to the pressure and Steve acted as if on second nature.

Faye Ray's screams barely registered in Steve's mind as his lips pressed against Maria's. They were warm and soft and he could taste the mix of popcorn and Pepsi on them. She reached up and pressed her hand to his chest. Steve feared she was going to push him away, but her hand continued up to his collar and around the back of his neck then she pulled him closer as she deepened the kiss. Steve's arms went around her back and gripped her tighter. His heart was racing as if he was in battle but his body felt anything but battle ready. Finally they pulled apart, gasping for breath.

She looked up at him and he saw the look of wonder he knew must be mirrored on his own face. He smiled at her.

"So, I'm, um, not really that well versed in the art of "making out,"' he confessed. "I've really, well, I've never really, um."

Steve closed his eyes. He'd intended that to come out smoother, rehearsed the line since she'd agreed to come with him in fact. Now he was tripping over his words.

"Never mind," he shook his head.

He opened his eyes and discovered her smiling up at him.

"That's OK," she said. "I'm not really good with the romantic lines, either."

"Well, you're good at kissing," he said, then chuckled and laughed at himself.

"So are you," she said.

He looked at her a moment and his gaze passed over her face as he tried to record this moment. Her smile and her laugh were things he didn't see her share with many others. This was something he didn't want to mess up, but, as dorky as the words were that came to his mind, he felt compelled to share.

"Well, maybe we should just concentrate on what we are both good at, then," he said as he ducked his head shyly and glanced up at her.

He felt his face turning red as she laughed but then her arms were around him and her lips pressed to his again.

One year later

Steve was sitting in the Avengers common room reviewing specs of an old op when Bruce came in and sat down on the sofa across from him with an audible sigh.

Steve looked up from his work and waited for Bruce to offer an explanation.

"I'm trying to think up something interesting, maybe even unique, for a date with Alice," Bruce said.

Steve bit back the snarky reply he wanted to make about "who else would Bruce be taking on a date." He tried to leave that sort of thing for Tony while at Avengers Tower.

Instead he thought through all his dates with Maria, looking for something that would be unusual for Bruce.

"There's an exposition called PUNK at Metropolitan Museum of Art," he said. "It's pretty good."

Bruce raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Punk?" he asked.

"It's about the fashion then and tying it into modern fashion," he explained.

"OK, but 'Punk?''

"Um, yeah," Steve said. "Not really your thing?"

"Uh, actually, I guess I wasn't thinking it was yours," Bruce said.

Steve thought he probably should change the direction of this conversation before he let something slip about his and Maria's dates.

"Well, are you looking for a place that you can talk or just a general sort of date?" Steve asked.

Bruce sighed again.

"I guess I'm looking for something she absolutely won't be expecting," Bruce explained.

That immediately brought a smile to Steve's face, not only because he knew Alice would like to be surprised that way, but because his first date with Maria she'd been caught by surprise as well.

Without thinking he said, "There's a place called Moonlight Drive-In that plays classic films one night a week."

"Really?" Bruce sounded interested.

Steve gave him the information, and didn't think about it again, until several months later...

When Maria returned to the car from the snack booth she had a strange look on her face.

"What happened?" Steve asked.

"Alice Vorso is here," she said.

"What?!" Steve was surprised, but then he groaned. "Oh, no."

Maria turned to him, one eyebrow cocked in query.

Steve sighed.

"I might have, without thinking, mentioned this place to Bruce when he asked about somewhere unique to take Alice."

"Well, she says they come here quite regularly," Maria commented.

Steve leaned forward and rested his head against the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's OK," Maria assured him.

"No, I'm seriously sorry I told him," Steve said.

He leaned back in his seat and reached over for Maria's hand.

"I liked that this was our place," he told her. "I liked that there was no risk when we came here, that we could just be us without having to look over our shoulders."

"I know," she said. "But Alice already knows about us, so it's only a matter of time before Bruce finds out."

Steve studied her for a moment.

"You're OK with that?" he asked.

Maria shrugged.

"Not particularly, but as long as it doesn't go further than them," she said, then she leaned over to kiss him.

"Um, what if," Steve stopped her.

"Relax, Alice said she was going to tell Bruce she wanted to go home," Maria said.

Steve was surprised.

"She told me it was the least she could do," Maria explained.

"But she's not going to be able to keep him from wanting to come back here," Steve complained.

Maria shrugged again and crawled into the backseat. She laughed at him when he had to get out of the car to get into the backseat. He just rolled his eyes at her.

"If I was still skinny I could do that you know," he pouted.

She flipped a piece of popcorn at him and it hit him on the nose.

"Hey," he said, but there was no fire in it, only a smirk and he leaned down to kiss her.

"I hope they're gone," he said. "Because I plan on fogging up these windows pretty heavily tonight. I'm not really a fan of "On the Waterfront."

"You liar," she said. "It's one of your favorites."

He just chuckled at her and began to pepper her face with kisses.

Maria's phone beeped with a text and Steve groaned. It looked like maybe they'd be the ones leaving the movie early.

"It's Alice," she said. "Bruce is walking back to the snack shack because she spilled her soda."

Steve kept himself low in the back seat and scanned the parking lot until he found Banner.

"Oh, no," Steve groaned. "He's only about three cars away from us."

Maria chuckled at him.

"Oh, so you find this amusing, do you?" he asked, seriously.

"Steve, there is one sure way he won't see us at all," Maria said, then she pulled him to her and pressed her lips to his.

Steve hesitated only a moment before fully engaging her.

Ten minutes later the movie began and he stared glassy-eyed at the screen while he tried to recover.

"See, he didn't even notice we were here," Maria said as she settled herself under his arm.

The next day, Steve was leaving the training room when Alice walked in.

"Sorry about last night," she said. "I had no idea it was your place."

"That's OK," he said and continued toward the door. He really didn't want to talk about it.

"Just curious," Alice called after him. "When Bruce came back with my new drink he said he didn't realize teenagers liked classic movies so much."

Steve turned to her and shook his head in question.

"Yeah, there was apparently a car near the back row with some pretty heavily fogged up windows," Alice laughed. "Kind of near where I saw Maria heading."

Steve was certain he was turning beet red by now not only by the heat on his face but by the way Alice began laughing so hard she could barely stand up.

He walked quickly to the lift cursing himself for ever helping Bruce with his date.

Notes:

So, sappy note here at the ending. I dedicate this story to Dresupi because she was the first person to make me think I could leave. She probably doesn't know that (I can't recall if I've told her yet), and she most likely doesn't recall our conversation early on in her first Crimson and Clover story about the abuse Alice suffered with Zeke (her boyfriend at the beginning of the story), but it made me realize I could leave and that it was OK to leave and that my life would be better if I left. It took me a while, but I finally left. Thanks, D. :)