A/N: I don't own anything in the Marvel universe but my love for Cap. This is an experimental piece, working with the present tense for a change. You can thank my mom's gift of a life sized cardboard cut out for the inspiration. Set post-Avengers, at a little diner in Brooklyn.
Every day he comes into the diner and I think… maybe today will be the day I talk to him. Not to ask him if he'd like cream or sugar – he takes it black. Or if how he'd like his eggs – over easy with plenty of ketchup.
Really talk to him.
But then he turns those baby blues on me and I melt. It's all I can do to remember to scribble down his order. Not that I don't know what he likes by now, but I still go through the motions, desperate to push through and say something to him just once. To let him know that I know. Then again, it might make him uncomfortable to think his anonymity is lost, and I couldn't take the thought of not seeing him again. Especially when he gives me that smile. Just a quick tug of the lips warms me all the way to my toes.
I can see he's shy, it's one of those things I find adorable about him. How can a man who looks like him and does what he does be afraid to meet a woman's eyes? Maybe it's because women stare at him all the time. Am I staring? Crap, I'd better get back to refilling the sugar bowls.
Sometimes a week or two goes by and I don't see him. I think… maybe this time he's not coming back. But then he walks in through the glass door, sporting a butterfly bandage across one eyebrow and I pretend not to notice.
I do a lot of pretending when it comes to him.
I pretend not to notice that his absences coincide with breaking news more often than not. I pretend not to make the connection between his flawless profile and the strong jaw the news flashes up all over the place. I pretend that maybe he's too shy to tell me, but it's more than my pie and an endless cup of java that brings him back to the diner. That last one is that the hardest to maintain.
There's a polite smile; he's always polite, even when I can see the weight of the world sitting on his shoulders, but I'm not sure he sees me. Then again, why would he? I'm nothing special. Just a waitress in a city with thousands of waitresses, I'm sure.
He's frowning today, more broody than I've seen him in a while. The faint traces of mottled purple and green at the base of his neck make me think he ran into some trouble. Wasn't there a report on the news yesterday… something about an industrial accident on the west side?
I refill his coffee and he doesn't see me, lost in his own world. A dark one, from the looks of it. My heart slams in my chest a few seconds before my brain catches up to know I'm about to do this.
"It'll be okay," I murmur, hating how soft and mousy my voice sounds.
He blinks, realizing I'm standing there for the first time. "What?"
I try a supportive smile, swallowing back a wave of nausea. At least my voice is a little stronger, less of a mouse. "Whatever it is, it'll be okay. It's always darkest before the dawn, right?"
His brows twitch higher as he looks down into his mug with a slow shake of the head. "It sure feels like we've been stuck in the dark for a long time though, don't it?"
"Well… without the dark we might not ever appreciate the light." Why am I speaking in stupid platitudes? It brings the quirk of a smile to his lips though, and that's good enough for me.
"Thank you… Grace," he reads the name off of my nametag like it's the first time he's ever noticed it even though he's been coming in for weeks, and the smile grows a little more pronounced. "That's a name you don't hear much these days."
"I know, it's sorta old fashioned."
"I like it. I went to school with a Grace once. Nice girl."
"My mom was a big Grace Kelly fan." He stares at me blankly. "You know, the actress?"
"Oh, right." He's back to staring into the bottom of his coffee cup again. "I haven't seen any recent pictures for a while."
Recent pictures? "She's not…" I give up, it's not important, and certainly not what I'd come over to talk to him about. I suck in a deep breath before I fade away into the background again. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know - not that I know what's bothering you - but it seemed like it might be important to say… Whatever it is, it'll be okay."
His shoulders slump even more, and I worry I should've minded my own business. His next words tell me I'm right about him, about who he is. "I'm not so sure of that anymore. It seems like every time I think I've got 'em beat, another one just pops up in their place. Starting to think there's no point in fighting 'em anymore."
"Of course there is!" I gasp. Doesn't he know how much he's needed? "You can't let them win. Whatever happened to standing up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences?" I'd heard him say that once, on the news. Not him as I see him now, but as the other guy, the hero.
I see the words sink in, the determination stretching from his chin to the set of his shoulders. And then his brow crumples in confusion and he swings those steady blue eyes up at me, his head canting to one side. "What are we talking about, Grace?"
He's daring me to break that bubble of pretense, but I chicken out. "It doesn't matter. Never give up, never surrender, right?" He had to have seen that one, it was a good ten years old, at least. "It's pretty much a universal creed. Winners never quit and quitters never win." Jeez, Louise… what's wrong with you, Grace? Can't you say anything that doesn't sound like a cheap slogan? "And now that I've bored you with just about every piece of fortune cookie inspiration since the beginning of time, can I tempt you with a slice of pie?"
"No, thank you, miss."
Something has changed. I can't tell yet if it's a good thing, or a bad thing, but he's come to a decision. Maybe the decision means he'll never walk through that glass door again, thanks to my big mouth. "Grace. It's Grace." I just want to hear him say my name one more time.
He stands, pulling out a couple of bills from an old fashioned money clip. "Grace," he nods, fingers twitching like they want to tip a hat, or maybe salute.
"I didn't catch your name…" Captain. I leave it off, but I know it's his now, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
"It's Steve."
"Stay safe out there, Steve. It's a dangerous world, but worth saving, I think."
He looks at me long and hard before the small smile is back. "Thanks, Gracie."
And just like that, I go from a silly crush to a full blown infatuation.
A/N: Well, what did you think? Be kind, this is not my normal thing.
In other news, I'm working on a TVD idea heading your way soon. Got to get some chapters down before I start writing my next book, the 6th in the Forged Bloodlines series.
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