2. You're Trouble

Steve quickly learned something about Victoria. She was... fiery. In less flattering terms; she was snarky, sharp, and opinionated. But it didn't feel like she was. Any scathing comment or cutting remark she made was softened and dulled somehow by the way she smiled. She wasn't a people person, but she had charisma. It was a very good example of pure irony.

The two had been chatting idly for a little over an hour. She was constantly smiling, but he'd yet to hear her laugh. He couldn't decide whether she just didn't laugh, or if she didn't find anything funny enough to laugh at. It was his current mission to get her to at least chuckle, but he was having trouble. To his credit, though, it was kind of difficult to have a long conversation at one of Tony Stark's parties, when every other sentence one of them was interrupted by someone casually asking if they wanted a drink, a not-so-subtle code for "Do you want to have sex with me?"

It had been at least half an hour since their last uninvited guest, but all good things come to an end. She happened a glance over her shoulder and her smile abruptly vanished. "Shit!" she muttered, turning to face the bar and hunching over it slightly.

"Something wrong?"

"No, it's fine. Just- Ah hell..."
A medium-height man with short hair and a stud in his ear approached Victoria, a self-confident look on his face and the strong scent of alcohol surrounding him like a cloud. She glanced at him briefly, wrinkling her nose as he slid an arm around her back, confusing Steve. Did she have a boyfriend? The newcomer gave her a smile, hooded eyes twinkling in a strangely disconcerting way. She glared, and he lost (a little) of the idea that this man was her boyfriend.

"Hey, babe, fancy seeing you here. Can I getch'a drink?" he said, giving her a grin. She shoved his shoulder, scowling.

"Take your hands off me, asshole," she growled. He caught her hand, still smiling, despite her struggling to wrench her wrist from his grip.

"Don't say that, you know you like it,"

"Mark, I swear to God-" she cut off as his hand went around her waist and settled on her hip, releasing her wrist and placing his now-free hand on her thigh. Her face was livid. "Get your fucking paws off before I break your fingers! I mean it, you know I'll do it!" there was a distinct glint of fear in her tone and her eyes, and as he just grinned and leaned closer to her, Steve had seen enough.

"Hey," he said, and he glanced at him, vague frustration on his face. Victoria looked relieved. "You should leave her alone," he warned, his expression screaming not-to-be-messed-with.

"Whatever, man, it's none of your business," he retorted, his hold tightening on her hip. She made a disgusted noise, flushing, and threw her shoulder hard into his chest, but to little avail.

"Let her go,"

"And why the hell should I?" His hand slid slowly up her thigh, and, quick as a flash, the soldier he caught him by the wrist, yanking it back and off her leg. He stood, still firmly gripping his wrist, straightening up to his full, rather impressive, height, and Mark's eyes widened slightly. He was easily four inches taller than him, not to mention obviously stronger.

"Because the lady asked you to," he said, perfectly calm. She wrestled against the arm still tight around her, and when he finally let go, she fell forward, stumbling into Steve with a disgruntled puff of breath. He released the man's arm and steadied Victoria, looking her up and down briefly before stepping in front of her ever so slightly, giving the man across from him a solid glare. "You gotta learn to respect a woman's choice," he said in that same calm tone, every inch of him screaming silent disapproval.

"Yeah, screw you, asshole," Victoria put a hand on Steve's chest, looking up at him and giving him a cautioning expression as she pushed him back gently. He got what it meant. Don't start any fist fights.

"Get lost, Mark," she said, and promptly steered her rescuer to a different bar stool, taking the one opposite him for herself, all but climbing onto it. She huffed a relieved breath, asking the bartender for a drink. "Thanks, Steve," she sighed, scooting her seat closer to his as Mark left.

"It's no problem. Did you know that guy?" he asked, trying his very best to stop glaring at his retreating back.

"He dated my friend for a while and when I convinced her to dump his sorry ass he made it his personal mission to get back at me. Hence the rapey aura about him,"

"Nice," he said sarcastically, frowning at the ground.

"Tell me about it," she sighed, pulling the drink towards her and fiddling with the base of the glass, tapping her nails against it. "I owe you one,"

"I was just doing what anyone would do," he said with a glance in her direction. What anyone should do, he corrected himself. Victoria's expression softened.

"You're really something, y'know that?" she said, her smile still playing around the corners of her lips.

"Is that a compliment?" he asked, not quite sure with her. She smirked broadly, and turned her attention to the glass she was playing with, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip of her drink in a contemplative manner before returning her attention to him.

"You can figure that part out," she winked, and he blushed, much to his chagrin. He swallowed slightly, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, and he was surprised to hear her - finally - laugh. He raised his eyebrows at her, but smiled at her laughter.

"You have a nice laugh," he got out, eyes on hers. "You should use it more often,"

"Blush more, and maybe I will," She was leaning against the bar now, arms crossed on it, body towards it, but her face and eyes set on him. She was still looking at him with something he couldn't place, her eyes flashing different colours in the strobe lights but retaining their sparkle, and she was smiling again, her plump lips pulled up in that amused smile of hers, like she was laughing privately at some secret joke. It was a nice smile. It took some of the focus off her relatively scary appearance.

"What?" he asked finally, wondering what could be so interesting.

"Nothing. It's just weird meeting someone who's not an asshole," she downed the last half of her drink and stood, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a few bills for the tips jar. She smiled at him, somewhat apologetically. "I should be going; I don't wanna run into him again,"

"Can I walk you home? I'd feel better knowing you got back safely," he chewed the inside of his cheek, blushing slightly. He really didn't like the look of that guy. She paused, looking thoughtful.

"Didn't you say Tony wouldn't let you leave unless you were gonna be nailing someone?" she said finally, fingers reaching up to twist one of her earrings absent-mindedly. She considered him for a minute, her eyes on his face, biting her lip slightly. Then she smiled widely and came over to him, standing up on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck. Before he could ask her what she was doing, her lips were pressed firmly against his, and he seized up. She pulled back slightly, smiling at the shock in his eyes.

"I owe you one - let's get you out of here," she smirked. He stammered, unable to make a sound other than babbling nonsense. "Calm down, it's just to get you away from the party," she laughed. He swallowed, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. The last time he'd kissed a woman was seventy years ago, and he still had little to no clue about it. For all he knew, it was different now and he'd do something glaringly wrong. He really wasn't eager to make a fool of himself. If it was to get him away from Tony's party, though...

"O-Okay," he stammered, blushing furiously. She beamed at him.

"Excellent. Now put your hand on my ass,"

"What?!"

"Your hand. Put it on my ass,"

"Why?!"

"Jesus, Steve, you really don't know how hooking up works, do you? We gotta make it convincing,"

"I-I don't think that's-"

"Oh for Christ's sake," she took his hand and placed it on her backside, then leaned against him and kissed him again, lightly. "Now look like you're into it," she said with a smirk, and her lips were back on his.

He panicked.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh Jesus. Oh- Oh. Well. Okay, then. You only live once, right?

Tentative as a schoolgirl, he moved his lips against hers, his free arm wrapping around to encircle her back. Against his more chronically shy side, he left his other hand alone. She tightened her arms around his neck, pressing herself tightly against his chest, pulling away slightly for a quick breath before bringing her lips back to his with a little more force, and she glanced over to the left and smirked at the almost identical look Tony and Alyssa were giving them. She almost laughed, but he was surprisingly distracting, even for someone who had no clue what he was doing. She figured she might as well enjoy herself.

When they broke apart she smiled at him warmly, keeping her hold around his neck and her body against his. He was blushing like crazy and he knew it, but that was really the last thing on his mind just then.

"I think it had the desired effect," she said quietly, and he looked - slightly dazed - over at the billionaire, who, looking proud as all hell, grinned and gave him a military salute. Steve smiled in relief, turning his attention back to her.

"Thanks," he said breathlessly. She laughed a little, pulling him to stand up, sliding her arm around his back.

"Don't mention it," she smirked, half pulling and half guiding him to the elevator doors. "Oh, and... You should probably keep your hand on my ass. Y'know... For good measure,"

He didn't feel as bad about complying as he probably should have.

Yes, I did compare Steve to a schoolgirl. Enjoy the mental image. ;P