Chapter Two
Steve turned to the side, scowling at the mirror. It wasn't that he looked bad in these new clothes (Tony had actually picked out a pretty nifty outfit for him to try on), it was that it didn't look right. There was something out of place, something that was just wrong about the way he wore it. He looked... awkward.
"How's it comin'?" Tony called from the other side of the stall door.
Steve gulped and tugged at his collar. "I... I think it's a bit tight around the neck."
There was a snort. "No way. Look buddy, I know how to buy stuff. There's no way it doesn't fit. Come out. I have to see this for myself."
Taking in a deep breath, Steve unlocked the stall door, letting it swing open. Tony, who was lounging on a chair with a glass of something alcoholic, made such a horrified face that Steve felt himself go read. It got worse when Tony burst out laughing.
"You look ridiculous!" he hooted, bending over and struggling to get in enough air. "Oh my God - you're a complete dork. That's the only word I can use. Well, the only one I can use that you'll approve of. Jesus, Steve, who taught you to dress? The nuns? Come on, boy scout. Modesty is frowned upon in this day and age. Show some skin for crying out loud!"
Steve glanced back in the mirror behind him. He had on a navy blue shirt that he'd button all the way up to the collar and had done the cuffs as well. Because it looked classy, he'd tucked the shirt into a pair of jeans that Tony had insisted on. Steve had wanted another pair of khakis, but his new friend was adamant that that would make him look 'like an old, perverted geezer'. Whatever that meant, it didn't sound good.
"Um..." Steve looked helplessly at Tony. "What should I...?"
Tony rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated noise. "You're still a virgin, aren't you? Well, this is gonna be harder than I thought. OK. First, unbutton your shirt to the third or fourth one. For some reason, women think collar bones are sexy. And seriously, don't keep the collar all crisp. Pop it out, like a gangster. Next, roll up your sleeves to the elbows. I don't care if you think you'll get cold; we'll buy you a jacket for that."
Steve did as he was told, feeling really weird as he did. This was a dress shirt, wasn't it? Weren't you supposed to look more proper when you wore one of those? After finishing, he looked back at Tony, searching for approval.
"Uh, no." Tony face-palmed, then looked back at Steve, shaking his head. "Untuck your shirt."
Wincing, Steve complied. This felt so... awkward. Everything was supposed to be neat; this was way too messy. Still, when Steve looked to the mirror again, he couldn't help but notice that this time, the outfit seemed less out of place. It belonged.
He didn't, though.
Tony stood, then came up behind him. With a huge grin, he clapped Steve on the back. "There ya go! See? Not so hard, is it? You look... well, not as good as me, but pretty close. Go ahead and change back - wait, you wore the plaid man-blouse. Never mind. Don't change back. Just grab your stuff and meet me at the cash register."
Steve moved forward and scooped his slacks and 'plaid man-blouse'. After checking to make sure he had cleaned everything up in the dressing room, he left the room. With long strides, he made his way towards the cash register.
All though he would never admit it, Steve enjoyed shopping - here. At Macy's, the one store that the captain had actually recognized. It was in the same building that it had been in almost seventy years ago, and the layout was practically identical. Steve seemed to know his way around the store better than Tony did.
However, Tony knew the mall like the back of hand, and Steve still didn't understand what a mall was. In his day, Macy's had carried pretty much everything you could ever need. People had to go to other stores now. He understood that it provided shoppers with more verity, but it was much simpler to have everything in one place.
Steve shrugged at the thought, and went to stand next to Tony at the register.
"Hey," Tony said, bringing him back to the present, "what do ya think of that dress? For Pepper."
Turning, Steve titled his head to the side to look at the dress Tony had indicated. It was white and, well, modern. Shorter than anything a dame from the forties would have ever worn, it was also a bit low cut. Lots of women had dress like that now, though, so Steve said, "It's pretty swell, I guess."
"Good." Tony nodded, then turned to send a big smile at the woman manning the register. Her face grew red, and she shifted her weight awkwardly. "I'll also take that dress over there in a size... five?"
The woman looked down. "They don't - they don't make dresses in odd number sizes, sir. Only evens, Mr. Stark, sir."
Tony tapped his chin in thought. "Well, I'll take a four and a six... and a two and an eight, just to be safe. I don't know what size she is..."
"Yes, sir." The woman hurried off, glancing back at them over her shoulder nervously. A moment later, she returned carrying a huge stack of fabric. Steve resisted the urge to go forward and help her (the last time he'd tried, Tony had smacked him, saying that it wasn't what you do anymore).
After Tony had paid, the two of them left the department store and headed back into the mall.
There were so many people here - and most of them weren't even shopping. They were just lollygagging about, walking without a purpose. Most of them were young. Geesh. What was wrong with the teens of America today? Didn't they have goals?
Steve ran smack into Tony, who'd stopped and was now staring transfixed at a spot to their left. Following the billionaire's gaze, he raised an eyebrow when he saw what Tony was looking at.
"Oh my God, Steve! Look at that!" Tony rushed forward, nearly knocking over some poor old lady as he did. Nose pressed up against the glass of the toy store window, he let out a little, slightly creepy, giggle of delight. "Look! I'm an action figure!"
Sure enough, on a display station in the window, was an Iron Man action figure. Actually, it wasn't just Tony - all of the Avengers were there. Even Steve in his Captain America costume. The captain felt his face grow red again. He was just a solider. He didn't deserve to be an action figure. There were plenty of men and women who were brave than him.
Tony brushed (pushed) past him and ran into the store. Cautiously, Steve followed, avoiding the slew of little kids and their parents as best he could.
"I am Iron Man." Tony waved the little doll around, grinning. He poked its back again. "I am Iron Man." He laughed a crazy laugh. "OK. We're buying these. All of them. Here, hold me." With that, he tossed Steve the action figure and picked up the one of Captain America.
After the little button on its back was pressed, the Cap said, "Avengers, assemble!"
"I've never said that before," Steve muttered, frowning. "That's not my voice."
"They really don't care about that. See, I have a cool catchphrase, and you didn't, so they made one up for you and then had an actor say it. Relax. They do that all the time now." Tony handed the toy to Steve and proceeded to test out all the other ones.
An hour later, they exited the store carrying all of the mini-Avengers. They'd bought Tony, Steve, Thor ("It's hammer time!"), Carter ("Shield's up!"), Bruce in his Hulk form ("Hulk smash!"), Hawkeye ("I never miss."), and Natasha, who didn't say anything for some reason.
"You know, I think Roan would like these a lot," Steve said, thinking of the little boy. Sure he was the son of the guy who'd just tried to take over the world, but Loki wasn't all that bad, and Roan was, for lack of a better word, adorable. "He likes the toy soldiers Thor's been making for him. I think he'd like these."
Tony's grew wide, and he pulled the bag to his chest in a positively possessive manner. "What? Why?"
"Well, he'd like them. And it'd be nice to do. You don't really need toys, do you?"
"Uh, yeah."
Steve just looked at Tony.
Tony threw his hands in the air. "Oh, come on! I've been waiting for forever for them to make me into an action figure! And I bought these! They're mine!"
There was an awkward pause, and Steve practically could see the gears turning in Tony's head. Wincing slightly, the billionaire sighed and hung his head. He held the bag out to Steve. "Fine. Take it."
Beaming, Steve tugged the bag away from Tony's iron grip. "See? It's not so bad is it? Let's go give these to him now."
AVENGERS ASSEMBLE
Carter lurched forward, choking as her seatbelt crushed her chest.
Wait... seatbelt? Seatbelts were in cars.
Looking around wildly, partially blinded by all the light streaming in from the windshield, Carter relaxed when she saw Bruce next to her in the driver's seat. He glanced over at her, a smile on his face that made her heart beat a little faster.
"Morning," he said, probably trying not to laugh at her bewildered expression. "How'd you sleep?"
"In a bed," she answered automatically. "How'd I get in the car? And... I wasn't wearing this when I fell asleep last night."
Bruce's face turning bright red was all she needed to see. With a laugh at his awkwardness, she straightened up in her seat. Blinking to try and get the sleep out of her eyes, Carter turned to look out the window.
With the flat, plain terrain and slew of palm trees along the sidewalk, it was clear that they were still in Florida. A community in Florida. Lots of little homes, all close together, were on either side of the road. Brick homes, wood homes, big ones, small ones. You name it, it was there. Carter shifted back, raising a questioning eyebrow at Bruce.
He didn't notice her. He was practically standing at the wheel, leaning over it and craning his neck as he looked at the houses, seeming to focus on their mailboxes. OK. So he was looking for a specific house.
"Bruce," Carter said slowly. "What are we doing?"
A grin crossed his face, but he didn't look at her. "You'll see."
Carter crossed her arms over her chest. With a snort, she scowled out the window, annoyed. She hated not knowing things. She always had. When she was a kid, and on the run, she used to steal textbooks from other kids' backpacks, just so she could learn. It was sad, but true.
Bruce turned the car into the driveway of a little white house. After giving her a smile, he took the keys out of the ignition, and exited the car. He hurried around the other side, opening her door for her.
Carter hopped out and gave him a skeptical look. "We're not going to get arrested for this, are we?"
"No." He had this super excited look in his eyes, and frankly, it was making Carter a little nervous. Seeing this, Bruce laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
The two of them started walking forward, but before they got very far, the door of the house swung open.
Out stepped an old man in a bathrobe. Taller than either of them, he had a lean build for an old person, and looked like he was still in good enough shape to play football. His thick gray hair stuck up in all directions, like he'd just stuck his finger in an electrical socket. With wide blue eyes, he took the two of them in.
Carter's heart nearly stopped before switching gears and doing double time. No. No, it couldn't be...
Bruce leaned in, lips brushing the tips of ears. "Happy birthday," he whispered.
The old man stepped forward, a look of disbelief on his face. Then, a smile came. A smile Carter had missed so much.
Leaving the safety of Bruce's arms, she ran forward and into another man's, heart swelling up. Almost startled by her enthusiasm, the old man stumbled back before returning her hug. The two of them stood there, holding each other. The old man stroked her hair, tears slipping down his face and onto Carter's shirt.
She didn't mind. She was getting him equally wet.
"Carter," he said softly, his voice full of longing and hope. "Carter. I missed you so much."
With a deep, shaky breath, Carter nodded. "I missed you, too, Dad. I love you."
"I love you, too, kiddo." He paused, pulling her in closer. Mmm. He still smelled like chemicals and musky cologne. "I always knew you'd come back to us."