Let's Dance
Chapter One~ Cake
It was dead. This had to be the most boring July 4th to ever have existed at any Sonic drive-in. Usually, the place was buzzing around this time of the day, evening, right before sundown. People were off today, and the fireworks wouldn't start until the sun went down completely, which wouldn't be until at least 8:30. It wasn't even 5:00 yet. Where was everybody?
REEEEEEE. REEEEEEEE. REEEEEEEE. The sound of the speaker pulled her out of her train of thought. Finally, someone was calling in. Rushing to the machine, the young woman slid her card so the system would know who was taking the order.
Sliding the headset over her hat, she settled her finger over the speaker button to take the order. "Welcome to Sonic. My name is Jessika. May I take your order?" By now, she was sure her voice sounded almost robotic when it came to the introduction.
"Yeah, can I get a...Super Sonic Bacon Double Cheeseburger?" The gentleman at the other end of the line seemed a bit hesitant.
"You most certainly can. Would you like fries, tots, or onion rings?"
There was a split second of silence. "Tots, please. Large."
"Large tot!" She yelled back to the kitchen, her finger off the button so the customer didn't hear her. Once sure they had heard her, she pressed the button to answer him. "Sure thing. And what to drink with that?"
"Coca Cola, if you have it." He sounded uncertain.
"Most certainly, sir." Jessika finished adding the extras. "If everything looks correct on your screen, then your total will be $10.25. You have a wonderful day."
"Thank you." The disembodied voice responded.
Earlier in the day, there had been several carhops working, but the manager, Linda, had sent some home when their usual rush time didn't come. Now, it was only her, waiting on the next shift to show up so she could leave with enough time to change for her other job. She was lounging on the wall next to the micro screen, waiting for the order to pop up as ready. Idly, she slid her skates back and forth, thinking how nice it would be to just go home and not have to be on her feet for another eight hours. Linda seemed just as bored as she was, but she was the manager, so she had to stay until close (which Jessika did not envy her for). The sun was shining right through the window, right at her face, which obscured the sight of the gentleman sitting outside waiting for his food. From what she could see (which was wheels and feet), he was leaning against a motorcycle.
"Jess! Last order, turn in your money, sweep up the front of the store, then you can leave." Linda couldn't have been anymore than 20 years old, but she was the manager of a rather popular Sonic. She was one of those girls who came up from god-knows-where, trying to get her start as a model. Her tan was too dark for her skin tone, orange almost, eye make-up far too heavy, and constantly chewing away on a stick of gum. Linda had once explained to her that it kept her from smoking, which was not true. Every chance she got, the younger woman was lighting up at the back of the store.
"Got it." Swiping her card again, she snatched up the ticket that the system spat out, then went to rearrange the tray so it was easier for her to carry. Stall 30, right. Jessika shoved the door open, pushed off the door stop, raising her head with a smile (something she had to do, no matter how much pain she was in that day. Either than or lose her job). Coming around the corner, she was met with a much different sight than what she was expecting.
She had been expecting some kind of leather-clad biker with a bandana around his head, smoking. That was what she usually got when a bike came into the lot. What she saw was a guy who was dressed in dark jeans and a blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up, brown boots and a bomber jacket slung over the handlebars of the motorcycle. It wasn't even a new bike, but no more than a few years old. Swirling to a stop at the station, she was met with a smile. That was new. Most customers are in a hurry to get their food and get out. He was handsome. Bright blue eyes with just a hint of green in them, framed by pale lashes that matched the blonde hair that might have been combed at some point, but was now stuck up from the wind. He looked oddly familiar.
"How are you doing today, sir?"
"Fine, and yourself?"
"Absolutely awesome." Ok, maybe she was overselling it a bit, but that was her job. "Super Sonic Double with bacon, large tots, and a coke?"
"That's me." He gave her an awkward grin.
"Here ya go. Are you gonna need any ketchup, salt, or peppermints?"
"Just some ketchup, if you don't mind."
"Not at all." She dug out a handful of packets from the cup on her tray. "Anything else for you today, Captain?"
He seemed surprised. "No, that'll be all."
"Alright then. Your total is $10.25."
As he dug out his wallet, he chuckled. "How'd you know?"
"What? That you're Captain America?" When he nodded and handed her a $20 bill, she answered him. "You've been all over the news for the last few years. You really think people don't know who you are without the star-spangled getup?"
"I seem to blend in pretty well, most of the time."
Jessika shook her head. "Sir, some people are idiots. Or they don't pay attention. Either way, you're not exactly an Average Joe, if you get my meaning." A lock of hair had worked its way out of her cap, which she quickly shoved back under. "Well, if that'll be all, here's your change. $9.75."
"Keep the change." He waved his . People don't like small change. She dumped the handful of quarters into her apron pocket, then held out the bills for him. Seeing her hand at the corner of her vision, he looked up. He stared at the appendage for a second, then to her face. Realizing what she must have thought, he gave her a lopsided smile. "Keep it." He motioned with his head to the money she was holding.
Holy crap, she thought, looking back and forth from her hand to the man in front of her. "Are...are you serious?"
The captain laughed lightly. "Yeah, I'm serious. Keep it. You guys work hard, especially on those things," he motioned with a tater tot to the black and purple skates that adorned her feet. "I used to know a girl that worked at a drive-in. Her mom and mine were friends. Every day, she would tell my mom that Darcy was bone tired whenever she got home from work. Usually with pretty crappy tips. Of course, back then, a quarter would get a hell of a lot more than it does now."
That's right! He was born after the first World War. "Well...thanks." She broke into a grin, slowly stowing the bills in her apron, as if she were afraid he'd change his mind and want them back. "Um, if you need anything else-" Jessika was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing.
The man pulled out a brand new smartphone, sliding his finger across the screen to open the message. "Really, Stark?"
"Everything alright?"
"Yeah," the captain huffed. "Just...just a friend of mine. He wants to go out and do something for my birthday. I keep telling him no, but he's insistent."
"Why not?"
Captain Rogers looked at her like she grown a second head, then ducked his and started rubbing the back of his neck. "I dunno. I guess I'm just not really in the mood to watch him flirt all evening."
Jessika gave him a soft smile. "Well, whatever you end up doing, I hope you have a nice birthday."
She watched as his face seemed to fall, though he tried to hide it. "Thanks. I should probably let you get back to work."
"Yeah. Yeah, I gotta...you have a wonderful evening, Captain."
"You, too."
Once she entered the store, she stopped for a moment, trying to remember..."Hey, Linda?"
"Sup, sweetie?"
"You're a fan of the Avengers, right?" Setting the tray down, she almost regretted the question as her friend's face lit up.
"Of course! Why? What do you want to know?"
"Do you remember when Captain America's birthday is?"
Linda scoffed, snapping her gum in the process. "Honey, if you don't remember Golden Boy's b-day, you are seriously hopeless. It's today, dummy. Birth of America, birth of America's greatest hero! How could you possibly forget that?"
The woman shook her head and shrugged. "It never really came up in history class." She turned to grab the broom and dustpan, then looked out the window. The sun had moved a bit, so she could see outside. Their sole customer was sitting at a table, devouring the food she had just taken out. "Hey...I have another question."
"Does it have anything to do with the Avengers?" Linda was practically bouncing.
"No. Nothing whatsoever.
Steve was just finishing up his tots when he heard the door swing open behind him. Having seen the other two cars that had pulled in the time that he had been sitting there, he didn't bother to turn around. It wasn't until he saw the skates roll up beside him that he looked up. The car hop from earlier...Jessika, he realized after looking at her nametag, was standing beside the table with a shy look. In her hands she was holding what looked like chocolate cake with chocolate drizzled over it and whip cream and a cherry.
"Thought you could use a pick-me-up." She set the dessert down in front of him. "On the house. Happy birthday, Captain."
"Oh, y..." he chuckled nervously. "You didn't have to-"
"Yeah, I know. But, I did anyway. You did a lot of good back in the day, as well as now. Believe me when I say, we're lucky to have you back. Just be glad it was me who got your order, and not my manager. She's kind of a fanatic when it comes to anything to do with you or the other Avengers."
"Heh, well, thanks. I mean...thank you. You're actually the first person to give me anything in..." He went silent, trying to round off. "Almost seventy-five years."
Jessika laughed. "Well, I'm glad I could do something to make you feel better. I gotta go, so," she tapped his arm with her knuckle, "enjoy it. I hope the rest of your birthday better than it's been so far."
Nodding, he couldn't help but smile at the kind gesture. "I think it will be. Thank you."
"Your welcome."
With one last wave, she skated off toward the employee parking. He watched as she sat in her car sideways so she could take off her skates, then threw them in the back. She drove off, rounding the other side of the lot before exiting into traffic. Steve sat there for a moment, weighing his options. Deciding that, eh, it wouldn't hurt to live a little, he pulled his phone back out and typed out a message to his colleague.
Fine, we'll go. But, no strippers! -Steve. A moment later, the device pinged in his hand.
Aw, you take the fun out of everything, Capcicle. -Tony
But, fine. If you want to be a boring old guy, we'll go be boring old guys. I know just the place. -Tony
He was going to regret this.
