The next day, after having breakfast, Steve and Mel went to Mel's apartment. Mel had editing to do and no clients, so she figured they might as well camp out in her living room for the day. Steve wondered if he should ask Mel what to expect at a photo shoot, the one scheduled for the Avengers was in a week, but it would probably be weird if he suddenly started grilling her with questions about that. He decided not interrogate subtly either. It didn't seem right to do that to a friend.
"So how'd the family emails go?" he asked instead. He was on his stomach, sketching her messy corner of books, binders, loose paper, and other paper resources. Steve planned on getting her a bookcase, maybe for Christmas.
"Well, I checked this morning and haven't received any replies yet–" She huffed in a way that was distinctly exasperated before continuing. "Spoke too soon, the siblings have responded."
"And what do they have to say?"
"They sent one conjoined email, basically detailing their holiday wish list."
"Anything unreasonable?" It was amazing how difficult shading book stacks could be.
"Ren wants his sweater back, Tristan wants cake, and Vi wants me to find her a boyfriend."
"You stole your brother's sweater?"
"I prefer 'borrowed without permission', and I'm surprised that it's taken him two years to notice that I did. And no, I'm not giving it back."
"Are you going to get your sister a fella?" Steve was glad she'd gotten used to his 'old people speak' as Tony put it. His team still made fun of him for it whenever they could.
"Considering I can barely make regular friends, let alone find myself a guy, I'm not going to be finding one for her anytime soon."
"Hey, you made me your friend pretty easily, and I'm of the male variety." He looked up to watch her expressions.
"Yeah but you're… you. And it was not easy trying to approach you. I nearly peed myself asking to take your picture." He couldn't help but laugh at the blush that spread across her pale cheeks. "Shut up," she muttered, a smile making its way to her lips despite her embarrassment. "You have any holiday plans?"
"Not really. My friend's having a Christmas party on the 23rd."
"And the actual day?"
"Sitting around bored at my apartment." The rest of the Avengers were going their separate ways for the holiday. Each had someone to go back to, leaving their Captain alone. Steve didn't mind, it was good that his team got away from this life for a while, a bit of normal would do them some good.
The apartment phone rang and Mel bounced up to answer it, stumbling over a cushion and then hopping over Steve's legs.
"Hello?"
"You haven't called in weeks and all I get is 'hello'?" a feminine voice shouted through the phone.
"Salutations, mother. I am honoured to have received telecommunication from your greatness." Steve chuckled quietly on the floor.
"My children are impossible."
"We try."
"So are you coming home this year? Spot misses you."
"And the rest of you don't?"
"Of course we do. Though your brothers miss you more for your cake, I think."
"Tristan requested red velvet."
"Could you bring some? I happen to like that kind too."
"Mum, I think I'm going to stay in New York this year."
"But you missed last year, and we haven't seen you since July."
"I know, but I can't afford to fly up there and I don't particularly like driving for seven hours in the middle of winter." Mel had been avoiding family get-togethers for a while, successfully worming her way out of any for the past five months.
"Honey, you shouldn't spend Christmas alone."
"I won't be alone. I think I'll keep a friend company." She glanced at Steve who was trying his best not to look like he was eavesdropping. It wasn't his fault that his enhanced hearing let him hear both ends of the conversation.
"Alright, but you're welcome home anytime."
"I know, say hi to dad for me?"
"I will, love you."
"Bye." The call ended with a click and Mel realized she would be spending Christmas with Steve.
"Seven hour drive?"
"Most of my family live in Montréal."
"Isn't that in Canada?"
"Yep." A light bulb turned on in Steve's head.
"You're Canadian!" She blinked at him.
"Problem?" she questioned and sat back down.
"No! Not at all, I just thought… I've met–" He looked back up at her and the look on her face told him to stop talking.
"I'm not offended, if that's what you're thinking."
"Sorry, I suppose I just assume everyone living in America is an American."
"Well, technically I am too." She continued at Steve's confused expression (which she found rather adorable). "Dual-citizenship. I was born here in New York."
And so she told him her story of how she'd lived in Brooklyn until she was five and then her parents were killed in a car accident. Millie and Sean Bleu, close friends of her parents, had taken her in as their own child and they became her family.
"So you're adopted?" She nodded. Mel wondered again why it was so easy to talk to Steve. She couldn't even carry a regular conversation with other people, let alone one about her being adopted. But the talk was easy and Mel didn't feel the need to run and hide in her room.
0-0
For a week Steve worried about the impending photo shoot. He of course hadn't said a word to Mel about it. Since their first meeting, he had kept his life as an Avenger hidden from her. He wasn't sure how he would tell her, but he knew he should. Steve understood that opening up to people was hard for Mel, but she had with him by telling him a bit about her odd family. She deserved a little honesty. Though how does one go about telling their friend that they're Captain America? He wasn't keen on blurting it out, but he couldn't think of a way to do it tactfully. She would find out eventually, he knew. If Fury was actually serious about getting the Avengers more press time, well, Steve would have to explain sooner or later.
"Everything alright, Steve?" He was broken out of his thoughts by Mel's voice. He looked up from his sketch to see hazel eyes which voiced her worry better than her words did.
"Yeah, why?"
"You seem kind of… anxious lately." Was he really that bad at hiding how he was feeling?
"I'm fine, don't worry." He gave her a reassuring smile and went back to his drawing. It was another one of Mel.
"Fine, don't tell me." She checked her watch and then got up, pulling her red pompomed hat onto her head.
"You're leaving?" It was barely eight yet.
"Unfortunately, yes. And while I'd much rather be here, I do in fact need money and therefore must go to work." She gave a small dramatic sigh. "You can have the rest of my bagels. I won't have time to finish them. Bye, Steve." Before he could reply she was out the door, leaving him alone in the café.
0-0
The photo shoot was scheduled for ten at a place called Tintype. Driving anywhere in Manhattan could be rather frustrating, so Steve opted to walk the six blocks from the café. He was edgy enough as it was. He'd done films and shows promoting bonds back during the war, but he had always felt awkward and embarrassed doing that. He wasn't excited to feel like that again. He wondered if this would be anything like when Mel took his picture. He generally didn't have to do much, smile sometimes, step more to the left or right, simple things that Mel said made the picture better. He wished that she would be the one standing behind the camera, though he didn't think she'd do too well against the rather rambunctious superhero team.
He met up with Clint and Natasha in the lobby and the three of them went up five floors in the elevator to the studio. Upon reaching the sixth floor of the building, they were met with a warm toned reception area. A sign on a wall read Tintype Photo Studio.In sleek black frames littering the walls were various photos of people and places that Steve assumed were taken by Tintype photographers.
The last three Avengers were already there, talking to a man who looked to be in his mid fifties.
"Capsicle, bird brain, Natalie, meet Mr. Daniels." He paused to snicker at something before continuing the introductions. "Mr. Daniels, meet Steve Rogers– Boy Scout extraordinaire, Clint Barton– male Katniss, and Natalie Rushman– careful with this one, she can kill you with her thighs." He motioned to each of them in turn.
"Pleasure to meet you," Daniels said and shook each of their hands. "Agent Coulson came by earlier and gave us some instructions along with outfits SHIELD would like you to wear. They're just through that door along with change rooms. Captain Rogers, Dr. Banner, Agent Romanoff, and Agent Barton, if you could put on the outfits on rack one, that'd be great. Mr. Stark and Thor, could you put on what you brought?"
"You know about SHIELD," Clint deadpanned. Civilians weren't supposed to know about a top secret government espionage agency.
"'Course I do, used to be an Agent myself, though that was nearly twenty years ago. Anyway, I'm doing this now. Now get changed, there's time for my life story later." The Avengers went to get changed, wondering how an agent became the owner of a photo studio.
When they re-emerged they found that they were in their uniforms, even Tony was in his Iron Man suit, though Bruce was simply in a dress suit with a purple shirt and a green tie. Steve kept his cowl off. The thing wasn't very comfortable and he preferred not to wear it when he didn't have to.
"So, where do we stand?" Tony asked Daniels who was sitting behind the front desk filling out some papers.
"Not sure, our photographer's not quite ready yet. She should be another few minutes."
"You don't take the photos?" Natasha asked with a hint of surprise.
"No." He held up his hand showing swollen finger joints. "Arthritis is horrible, probably shouldn't have cracked my knuckles so much to intimidate targets," he chuckled.
"Is there a lot of equipment to prepare for this photo shoot?" Thor questioned, slowly growing impatient.
"Not really, the lights and camera are easy, and the sets have been ready for an hour. Red's just taking a lot of time thinking about how to shoot this. I think we've given her enough time though. It's ten twenty and I don't want to waste too much of your time. Follow me."
They went through a door behind the front desk and stepped into an expansive room with an assortment of screens and sets along with heavy-looking lights that were for the most part off.
"Time's up, Red. They're here," Daniels called only to be met with faint grumbling. "Geez, get out here, girl. They may be super people but they will not eat you."
A petite young woman popped up from behind a table laden with photography equipment, her eyes sweeping over them before locking with Steve's and widening ever so slightly. Realization poured into her eyes, similar to the way it had when he explained to her some military terms after they'd watched a movie. On her head was a familiar red pompom bearing knitted hat. One that looked exactly like one that had graced Mel's head that morning. The woman wore the same rectangular glasses that Mel normally did and was wearing the same clothes she had been. What was the name of the photo studio Mel worked at? He'd never thought to ask and somehow she never mentioned it.
The Mel lookalike came closer to them and stood next to Daniels.
"Jack, where'd you put the extra memory cards?" Her voice was the same as Mel's too.
"There are some new 32GB cards in my desk. Red, meet the Avengers, Avengers, this is Red. Or Melinda Bleu if you prefer." He supposed it couldn't just be coincidence that they had the same name too.
"Just Mel's fine," she said quietly not looking any of them in the eye.
"Tony Stark," the arrogant man said and held his hand out. She shook it and quickly let go. The introductions went around and finally it was Steve's turn. He swallowed nervously before speaking up.
"Steve Rogers, ma'am." They stared at each other for a moment and she nodded. Steve wasn't sure if it was a sign of approval or simply a head nod.
"I'm going to grab a memory card. Jack, take them to set A, please." With that she hurried away to an adjoining room.
"She seems rather…" Tony began.
"Skittish," Bruce finished.
"She's a quiet girl, normally not so shy, but you're a rather imposing group." Daniels led them to the aforementioned set A which turned out to be just a plain grey backdrop. "She's an amazing photographer though, and this place probably would have shut down if I hadn't hired her."
Mel returned and busied herself with the camera, setting it onto a stand and then adjusting the lights. Daniels retreated to his office and left them in Mel's capable hands.
"Where do you want us?" Bruce enquired. She had them step in front of the screen one by one for single portraits. They started with Clint, who volunteered readily to go first. She took some shots of him simply standing before getting him to move around. Mel abandoned the mounted camera and grabbed a free one from off the table, moving closer to the archer as he mimed firing arrows.
Steve watched her intently. It was interesting to watch her work. She steadily grew more confident as she directed Clint's movements yet still allowed him enough freedom to do what he wanted. Her voice became steadier and slightly louder, and more often heard– though her orders were still given softly.
"Thank you, Agent Barton. Who's next?" she said dismissing Clint.
"Me! This actually looks like fun." Tony rushed up to take the assassin's place. The photo shoots he'd done for magazines were never this laid back.
"Okay, just give me a minute. I need to adjust the lights."
"Why must they be altered?" came Thor's curious voice. She hopped up onto a step ladder, turned on one of the overhead lights, and fiddled with slats on the fixture.
"Well, Mr. Stark's shinier than Agent Barton." This got a laugh from everyone. She moved to turn on lights on the other side of the set. "But I've got different instructions for Mr. Stark."
"Aw, I'm special," Tony grinned.
"Please up on the helmet, Mr. Stark."
"Right-o. And call me Tony." He slid the helmet on and Mel began snapping away. Iron Man soon began throwing punches into thin air, fighting an invisible enemy much like Clint had. Steve worried slightly at how close Mel was to the end of some of his punches, but she seemed to know exactly how far they would go and never got hit.
"You have laser things that shoot from the palm, right?" she asked suddenly and stopped taking pictures.
"Yeah, why?" Tony said, his voice sounding off coming through the suit's speakers. Mel went back to the mounted camera and turned it toward Iron Man.
"Point one at the camera and start it up, but don't shoot. Absolutely do not shoot." He did as she asked and a familiar whirring noise sounded along with a blue light appearing in the suit's palm. Three snaps of the camera's shutter. "Okay, thanks. Please take of the helmet."
"You're so polite," Clint noted.
"Am I? I think I'm just scared of all of you," she admitted with a slight upturn in the corners of her lips. Steve knew it wasn't just nervousness prompting the manners, Mel was always polite. She took more pictures before setting down her camera and readjusting the lights.
"So why does Daniels call you 'Red'? Is it because of your hat?" She wasn't a redhead and the only other red on her was her hat. Natasha was curious.
"No, though I do like this tuque quite a bit." She'd told Steve that it was her favourite hat. "I'm from Canada, and that made Jack think of the colour red and so… yeah. Red."
"Do you live in an igloo?" Tony blurted. Mel laughed, the first they'd heard from her since entering the studio.
"Yes, and I ride a polar bear to the pet store where I buy logs for my pet beaver."
"What is a beaver?" Thor asked. At least he'd been educated enough to know what Canada and Canadians were, the rest of the team thought gladly.
"A large semi-aquatic rodent," the photographer replied, all the while continuing with her work. "I don't see what the big deal is about Canadians. We're really similar to Americans. Turn your head to the left, Mr. Stark."
He did and then said, "Stop calling me Mr. Stark. Do you like hockey?"
"Um, yes. But I also hate maple syrup. I think I have enough Iron Man shots. Next victim, please."
This time Steve stepped forward. She assessed him against the grey, and then adjusted the lights again. "Cowl on, please." He couldn't tell if her tone was cold or just professional. He wished she would smile at him so he could know that she wasn't mad. That was unlikely. Steve found that having his picture taken like this was very different from in the café. There it had been more about the setting and environment and less about him. Here it was clear that he was all that mattered in the shot.
"Geez, Cap. Stop being so photogenic," Tony groused after a while.
"I don't think I can control that."
"Well it's not fair to the rest of us. Do you think if we drew on his face with Sharpie he'd look worse?"
Mel observed curiously as the team threw banter between each other, all comfortable with their companions and obviously trusting of one another. While she found them interesting, she had a job to do and tried to focus on that. However the task proved difficult because her mind kept straying to Steve. Steve who she'd met at a coffee shop and enjoyed sketching was apparently Captain America. Captain. Freaking. America. When she had first laid eyes on him, dressed in his full uniform minus the cowl, it had taken her a minute of staring to piece together the sight before her. She wanted to be mad, she really did. But her sympathetic and logical side made very good arguments as to why she shouldn't. And of course rationale always won out with her (usually) and she found herself amused by Steve's nervous and sometimes fearful glances at her.
Sometime during Thor's turn, Daniels had left, saying something about having to go to his son's school. Mel promised not to let the studio burn down.
When she finally finished with their individual portraits (she was very impressed with how flexible the Black Widow was) she sent them all out to get lunch. It was past one and she figured by the sounds coming from Thor's stomach that it would be cruel to keep them any longer.
"Be back in an hour," she told them as they filed out and she turned off the over head lights along with the ones closer to the ground, afterward turning on the dull fluorescent ceiling lights. She heard them walk out and let out a tired sigh. They behaved well enough, but they were still a rowdy bunch and she had to get Steve to break up a wrestling match between Thor and Clint.
Turning around, she saw Steve sitting on a bench looking painfully uncomfortable. She pushed away the urge to lock herself in Jack's office and instead came to sit by the star-spangled hero.
"Not going to eat?"
"I'm not hungry." She knew he was lying but let it slide. They didn't look at each other, Steve because he didn't want to see the hate or anger or betrayal in her eyes, and Mel because everything was always easier when eye contact wasn't made.
"I'm sorry for not telling you about… this," he managed to say, pulling on the material of his suit. "I'm not good with dames, but then there was you, and I got comfortable with you, and I didn't know how to tell you about me and my messed up life, and I didn't know you'd be the one taking our pictures or else I swear I would have given you some fair warning and I'm really sorry. I understand if you're mad or don't ever want to see me again or if you want to hit me, go ahead. I never meant to–" A small hand was clamped firmly over his mouth, subsequently stopping his apologetic babbling. The gesture surprised him.
Another thing with Mel that he'd picked up on was her avoidance of physical contact – nothing more than a poke to get his attention or catching his wrist to pull him somewhere now and then. Their legs never made prolonged contact when they sat on the subway together and she certainly never touched his face in any way.
"I am mad at you." She felt his mouth move under her palm, presumably to mumble an apology, and fixed him with a look. "I am mad at you for eating the last oreos in my apartment yesterday. I am also mad at you for spilling juice on my copy of Alice in Wonderland. But no, I am not mad at you for not telling me about your job as Captain America." Her hand fell back into her lap.
"Why?" was the first thing out of his mouth.
"Well, this is much better than what I'd thought was your reason for knowing just about nothing about pop culture."
"And what was your theory?" he asked, his lips turning up in a smile.
"That you were unjustly thrown into prison and had no contact with the outside world for a really long time. When you were released your cultural knowledge was completely out of date and therefore did not laugh when I told you a Finding Nemo joke."
"You thought I was a criminal?" he said laughing.
"No, you're too nice for that. You were framed for a murder and they only recently found the real killer. Thus your name was cleared and you were sent back out into the world that lived on without you." Her cheeks had steadily turned a brighter shade of red as she explained her assumption. "I was way off." They were quiet for a moment before Steve felt it was safe to apologize without being reprimanded.
"I am sorry for not telling you, though."
"No harm done. Okay, maybe I'm a bit ticked, but we've all got secrets; yours just happened to involve superheroes and secret government spy agencies. Coulson gave me a pamphlet," she added answering his unvoiced question. "Now, go eat something, apparently six bagels isn't enough to hold you."
"I only ate one of the bagels you left me."
"So five bagels, big difference. Any who, your stomach is growling at me in a way that is rather distracting and I have work to do."
Mel needed to start editing now or else she wouldn't be able to meet Coulson's deadline. She grabbed her laptop from her bag and turned it on, sliding the SD card into the side and waited for the device to detect it. Steve cleared some props off a chair and sat down next to Mel.
"You're not going to eat?" he asked.
"Later, I want to see how these turned out." Steve leaned closer to her to see the screen better. "What are you doing?"
"Looking at the photos."
"Go eat," she ordered, eyes not leaving the screen.
"Not unless you come with me."
"I'm not leaving, I have work to do."
"Then I'm staying with you." Mel looked at him, realizing that she didn't have time to argue with Captain America. If there was one thing Steve was stubborn about, it was her well being. Just last week he'd made her buy new boots because the soles of her old ones were falling off. Any lingering traces of resentment she'd felt toward Steve disappeared in that moment, when she realized that Steve was still Steve, even if he was an Avenger.
So she smiled and replied, "There are muffins and bagels in Jack's office, I'm sure he won't mind if we eat them."
Later, when the rest of the team returned, they would be surprised to find their restrained leader smiling and laughing with the photographer.
A/N: Did not expect this chapter to end up so long. Forgive me if this just chapter just seems like word vomit. I'm having trouble organizing my thoughts so if stuff seems weird and out of place, sorry.
