Sorry this is going up so late today-I had it queued up but it slipped my mind! Once again, you guys are overwhelming me with your awesome feedback! Thank you all for your observations about Steve (I know he's sheepish, but don't worry, he'll get more comfortable as the mission wears on!), and for your encouragement.
The Fan of the Week is Audrey, who has basically established herself as my #1 fan thus far, which makes her pretty amazing in my book. Merci beaucoup, Audrey for your enjoyment and your comments!
This chapter is pretty short, but there's an extra-long one coming tomorrow, so stay tuned!
-theredspool
The Chicago morning dawned sunny. Natasha was wide-awake mere seconds before her alarm rang, and she threw off the covers immediately. She stuck her head out into the living room and spied Steve squeezed onto the comically small couch. He was already awake and reading a magazine. He lifted his head back on the couch so he was looking at her upside-down. "Good morning." He sat up quickly and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess this is the big day?"
"I guess it is," she agreed. "Do you want some breakfast? There's a diner on the corner."
"That sounds great. Um, let me just get dressed," he paused, looking at Natasha, who was lingering in the doorway.
"Oh. I'm sorry! I'll just make some coffee. You go ahead. Take your time," She smiled and shuffled off into the kitchen. She thought she saw him glance down at her bottom in her light pink shorts, but she couldn't be sure. He's still human, her brain reminded her.
A half hour later they were in the diner, a charming little hole in the wall where the waitresses still wore uniforms. Their elderly waitress had taken a liking to Steve immediately because he said 'please' and 'thank you' and called her 'ma'am'. "Good for an old lady's heart," she'd told him with a wink.
"I'm not sure who you're talking about, Jean," he'd replied grinning. "I don't see any old ladies here." Natasha wondered if Steve could only be comfortable talking with women who were his ACTUAL age. It won't do much for his sex life, she mused.
"You and your lovely wife have a great day, now!" Jean called as they walked out. They waved, and Natasha slipped her hand into Steve's. "More convincing," she reminded him, and turned back to wave once more.
They split up after breakfast-Natasha trailed the subject and Steve staked out at his apartment. They kept contact by earpiece and a tiny camera hidden in Natasha's-that is, Ellie's-glasses.
"How come you get to do the fun stuff and I get to sit here in a parked car all day?" Steve complained mildly.
"Because," Natasha said as subtly as she could. "You're still learning. You'll get to do fun stuff tonight, okay? But first you have to observe."
"I can't even see you! I can only see what you see."
"And that says a lot. Pay attention!"
"...why are you following from so far away? What if you lose him?"
"I won't. I don't want him to see me! And stop talking to me. I shouldn't be moving my mouth."
"Then you stop talking to me." His defiance was tinged with humor; he stayed quiet after that. He's obedient, at least.
The target wasn't terribly interesting on the surface-a research scientist who conducted studies on poor UChicago students who would do just about anything to their brains for ten bucks an hour. Sleep studies, brain scans, and so on. But on his off time...well, it's always the quiet ones.
After a few hours of watching the good Doctor order and eat a sandwich and browse the Science Fantasy section of Barnes and Noble, Natasha was starting to feel her patience wear. "You'd think he'd be getting up to something good and dastardly by now."
"Maybe it's his day off," Steve suggested. "Besides, it's already five...we need to get back and change before dinner tonight. We know where he'll be-don't exhaust yourself just watching him run pointless errands."
"You're dying to get out of that car, aren't you?"
"Yes. PLEASE get back here."
"Ha, I'll be right there."
