A/N: Many thanks to Lady Pandora and ladygris for their endless hours of listening to me talk about my ideas, and for all the Betas they've done over the years.
Special Note: Thanks so much to CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur for giving me the idea used in this chapter.
Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take,
towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden.
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets
Namaste,
Sunny
Captain America
Echoes in the Memory
Chapter 4
Steve grabbed is jacket on his way out the front door of SHIELD HQ, angrily shoving his arms into the sleeves. He straddled the bike, revved the engine and took off. He had to get away before Natasha embarrassed him again. What she got out of seeing him speechless and awkward, Steve couldn't say.
He drove until his anger had diminished somewhat then parked in front of a café. As he sat down at an empty table, he wondered why he was upset that Natasha had spent the night with Bucky, and couldn't come up with an answer. Jealousy? Perhaps. He was envious of the time Natasha spent with his friend when they had only just become reacquainted.
A shadow fell over the table, and a menu was placed at his elbow. "Welcome to Mon Petit Café. Would you like to see the drink menu?"
Steve opened the menu, as stunned at the prices now as he was the first time he'd eaten out. "Just coffee."
The waitress moved away to place his order, and Steve realized too late that he'd been unforgivably rude.
Looking up at the skyline, he had the urge to draw for the first time since he woke up. He took a pencil from his pocket and began sketching on the back of a placemat. The waitress set a cup near his right hand, and filled it from the carafe. He brought the cup to his mouth for a sip and returned it to the table.
As the sketch began to take shape, he barely noticed when she refilled his cup. He wasn't hungry, and he was glad she didn't make an issue of the fact.
When he finished drawing the city's skyline, Steve finally looked up at the woman who'd been so tolerant of him parking himself at one of her tables for so long. The uniform of white shirt and black pants did nothing to hide her curvy figure. She was near thirty, with wavy dark hair below her shoulders, parted on the left. Reddish streaks on the sides highlighted her lightly tanned face. Her eyes were vivid mossy green and the dimples in her cheeks gave him the sense that she was an overall happy person. Her name tag said, "Joi". She wore a double set of diamond stud earrings in each lobe, a watch, a heart shaped pendant, and two rings on each hand. None of which resembled wedding or engagement rings.
He looked at his watch. "I've taken up enough of your time. I should go."
She refilled his cup again. "No need. The table's yours as long as you want it." Flashing a smile that showed straight white teeth, she picked up the menu. "We also have free wireless."
Confused, Steve blurted out, "Radio?"
That smile stayed in place as she moved on to the next table giving him the idea she found him odd. When she went back inside, the old man sitting at the next table leaned over. "Ask for her number, moron."
Steve ignored him, made a few additions to the sketch, folded it and pushed it into his pocket just as the waitress returned with his check. How did she know he was ready to go? She flashed him a cheeky grin as she walked away, and when he turned the check over, written across it were the words, "On the house. Call me. Joi." Her phone number was across the bottom.
With a grin, Steve tapped the older man on the shoulder, showing him the note. He gave Steve a thumbs up. Steve tucked the paper into his wallet so he wouldn't lose it, wondering if he would ever get used to women in this century.
SHIELD Helicarrier
Fury's Office
"Why me, sir?" Fury stared at Clint Barton with his one good eye, unnerving the normally unflappable SHIELD agent. To hide his discomfort, Clint had clasped his hands behind his back. "What if Agent Romanoff needs back-up?"
"Then Coulson or Hill will assign someone else. I need my best agent on this project, Agent Barton. Someone who holds SHIELD's interests above all others." He sat back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. "With your skill set, you see things most people don't. Patterns that wouldn't occur to others, and that's what I need. All reports are for Hill's and my eyes only."
Flattered, Clint almost smiled. Almost. "I'll get right on it, Director. What's the project?"
"NASA and SHIELD are working together on the Joint Dark Energy Mission, Project Pegasus. A group of scientists are studying a device called the Tesseract. The man is charge is Dr. Eric Selvig."
He pushed a tablet across the desk, and Clint picked it up, quickly scrolling through the pages. From the little he could understand the Tesseract was a door to the other end of space. A more in-depth read-through could be done on the ride to the site.
"Get packed, Agent Barton. I want you on-site before 1300."
"You can count on me, sir."
~~O~~
Steve opened the text and snorted at the smiley face Joi used to start every conversation. His phone came with them, but he hadn't tried using them yet. They'd talked on the phone a few times, and texted nearly every day. He wanted to get to know her before asking her out, and she understood. His thumb tapped out a response. *Good morning.*
**I WISH! The supply truck is delayed. No delivery until Monday. (angry face)**
*Sorry. Anything I can do?*
**Not unless you know where I can get a good merlot for the Boeuf Bourguignon.**
That was an easy one. *I'll make a call. How many bottles?*
**(smiley face) You're the bomb, Steve! Two cases?**
Steve scrolled his contact list for Natasha's phone number. "It's Steve. I need a favor… Easy for someone with your connections… Two cases of merlot delivered to Mon Petit Café on Main. Something decent, not the cheap stuff… ASAP… I owe you one… I'll explain later." He switched back to text. *Done, on one condition.*
**Anything within reason.**
*Have dinner with me next week.* There was a long enough pause that Steve began to think he'd overstepped. Then he remembered that Joi had texted from work.
**I'm free Sunday and Monday nights.**
*Noted. One question. Why is a waitress ordering supplies?*
**Servers, not waitresses. And it comes with the job. I'm also the owner. True story.**
Chagrined that he thought Joi was just a waitress, Steve paused before responding. *Sorry. I just assumed.*
**NP. Gotta go. Call me and we'll firm up our date.**
~~O~~
Joi thumbed the phone's power button and shoved it into her back pants pocket on her way to the kitchen. Steve was sweet, and a bit naïve, refreshing in these times. Other times, he showed a cynical streak that annoyed and amused her at once.
He'd finally asked her on a date. She would've done the asking-was secure enough to withstand a rejection, however, Steve was an entirely different animal when it came to the males of the species. He didn't engage in sexual innuendo, and if he said something that could have a double meaning, she assumed he meant the less embarrassing element.
An hour later, a man appeared carrying two boxes labeled with the name of a popular winery. He set the boxes where she indicated, tipped his hat and was gone without asking for a signature. Aside from the obvious, Joi wondered what sort of man Steve was that he could have her request filled so quickly with a single phone call. She knew who he was of course; she'd heard stories about him all her life. And the news agencies had been falling all over themselves to report on his return to the living after seventy years entombed in ice. From what she'd read about cryogenics, that Steve had made it through the thawing process was nothing short of a miracle. And of all the women on the planet who wanted his attention, he chose her. At least for now.
Turning her mind to the kitchen staff, Joi waded into the fray. The act of creating tempting meals for her clientele made her happy, though it wouldn't mean a thing without her family surrounding her, giving their unconditional support. And if this thing with Steve proved to be a long-term event, she already knew he would be accepted without question because that's the kind of people they were.
Monday Afternoon
Feeling more than a little nervous at his first date since awakening in the SHIELD facility in New York, Steve knocked on the door to Joi's apartment. It was opened almost immediately. "Hi."
"Hey! Come on in." Steve stepped into the apartment, and Joi closed the door. She was dressed in jeans that were form-fitting without being tight, a green short sleeved top, and matching socks. He took a seat on the sofa as Joi went through an open door he assumed was her bedroom. "Just let me get my shoes on and we'll go."
"Take your time. The movie doesn't start for another hour."
She came out carrying a pair of sneakers which she put on while standing in the middle of the living room, balancing on one foot then the other. "I know you've had this planned for a week, but do you mind if we don't go to a movie? The weather's nice for a change, and I'd rather not be cooped up inside."
He shrugged. "We can do whatever you want, Joi."
Her smile lit up the room. "How about a picnic at the park?"
"Works for me." Her suggestion made Steve glad he'd opted to bring the car rather than the bike.
Joi finished tying her shoes, and went into the kitchen. She opened the pantry, reaching for the picnic basket on the top shelf. Steve jumped up to help, bringing them closer than he meant. She looked up at him, her smile faltering, but not in a way that spelled trouble. If he had to guess, he'd say she was feeling the same pull of attraction he noticed the day they met.
He handed her the basket and stepped back. "Need any help?"
"I just have to pack it. You're welcome to watch, if you like." Apparently, Steve liked because he stayed to talk to her while she worked then carried the basket to the car.
~~O~~
It had been dark for hours by the time Steve returned Joi to her apartment. She asked him in for a beer, and had been pleasantly surprised when he accepted. His old fashioned ideals had kept him from taking any sort of liberties. He'd carried the basket himself, and held her hand as they walked along the jogging trail until they found the perfect spot for their picnic.
Each taking a side, they'd spread the blanket under a tree, and Steve had helped set out the food. Something other men hadn't done. For her, it was a sort of test to see if the guy paid attention to the little courtesies, and not just because she was a woman. Steve had passed with flying colors. She attributed it to being brought up in a different era. One where men respected women. Now they were alone in her apartment where the next phase of testing would happen.
Joi kicked off her shoes on her way to the kitchen to put away the leftovers and get them each a beer. "Have a seat, Steve. Make yourself comfortable."
Most men would take her words to heart and be sitting with their stocking feet on the coffee table and their shirt pulled out. Steve, on the other hand, hadn't done any of that. When she returned with the beers, she smiled indulgently. "When I said make yourself comfortable, I meant it. Take off your shoes, if you want."
"Okay."
She watched him do just that then handed him one of the beers. Leaving a space between them, she curled one leg under and sat down, bringing the other leg up so that she was sitting cross-legged. "Want to watch a movie?"
One side of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Thought you didn't like movies."
"I don't like crowded theaters. Let's see that list again. Maybe we can cross something off." She looked over his shoulder. "Thai food? You should've said something. There's a good one up the street."
Steve smiled and rolled his eyes. "That was Natasha's idea, and it can wait."
"Natasha?"
"She's a friend." He shifted and draped his arm along the back of the sofa. "What do you recommend?"
Shrugging one shoulder, Joi dropped her feet to the floor and reached for the remote. "Let's see what's on Netflix. No chick flicks." She scrolled the offerings, dismissing most as not worthy of Steve's attention or they were rated R. Then she came to the most recent Star Trek movie. "Here we go. What about this one?"
"Looks interesting."
Joi glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Cool."
Halfway through the movie, Steve's arm touched her upper back, his hand lightly brushing her bicep, but that's as far as it went. At no time did she get the feeling he was biding his time, waiting for a moment of inattention to take advantage. She got the sense that she might have to make the first move, and that was fine by her. Waiting had never been her style.
Joi paused the movie, and handed the remote to Steve. "Want another beer?"
He smiled. "Only if you're having another." He passed the remote back to her. "I'll get it."
Pleasantly surprised at his courtesy and willingness to wait on her, Joi stretched her legs out, resting them on the coffee table just as Steve returned with the beers. He opened one and passed it to her. She restarted the movie, and when he put his arm around her, she leaned against his side.
Joi awoke with a start, having fallen asleep on Steve's shoulder. She blinked at the television screen. Star Trek was over, and Steve had started another while she slept. He used the remote to shut it off. "You looked so peaceful I didn't want to wake you."
"I am so sorry, Steve. We overbooked catering orders Thursday and Friday. I didn't get home until after two in the morning, and had to be back by seven."
"Next time, say something. Rescheduling isn't a problem." He tossed the remote on the coffee table, eased his arm from around her shoulders and put his shoes on. "I should go before the neighbors start to talk." Joi walked him to the door, and he stepped into the hall. "I had a good time tonight."
"Me too." She tilted her head to the side, thinking. "Maybe we should give them something to talk about."
One eyebrow arched upward, accompanied by a knowing smile. "Oh? What do you suggest?"
She crooked her finger in a come here gesture. Steve leaned down, tilting his head in the opposite direction to press their lips together. His were soft and just a little moist, and he was gentleman enough not to try to take it any further. They parted, and Steve took a step back, waiting until she closed and locked the door to leave.
Several Months Later
"You have to tell him, honey, and before he finds out from someone else."
Joi paused in chopping vegetables for salad. "I know, Mom. It's just… We're enjoying what we have, and I don't want to spoil it. What if he sees this as me lying to him all this time?"
Carolyn Lockwood bustled around the kitchen cooking dinner with her eldest daughter. "You haven't been lying. You just didn't make full disclosure. If anyone would understand, it would be him. They both should understand."
"What about a lie of omission?"
Standing next to her daughter, Carolyn nudged her with a shoulder. "Don't worry. It'll be fine. If he cares about you, he'll get over it, or he won't care. It's the other one you gotta look out for. If it gets too bad, call me, and I'll have a talk with him. I'm betting it won't be nearly the big hairy deal you think it will. How long has it been?"
"Five months. And yes, I'll tell them." Joi pointed the knife in Carolyn's general direction. "But not until after this weekend. I want Chase and Justin's twenty-sixth birthday party to be a happy occasion."
"It will be, honey. The cake Desirée made is fantastic. The boys will love it."
Joi snickered. "Yeah. It has their favorite things on it: girls for Chase, boys for Justin, and motorcycles for them both." She switched to a French accent, "They should appreciate that it took my, pâtissière three days to make, n'est–ce pas, maman?"
Grinning, Carolyn hugged her daughter around the waist. "Oui, ma fille douce."
When they came into the kitchen, to the chagrin of Carolyn's fraternal twin brothers, their mother and sister were singing Refugee.
You see, you don't have to live like a refugee
Don't have to live like a refugee.
They rolled their eyes at the two women, making them laugh.
Java Junction
Sunday Afternoon
Two Weeks Later
"Please say you'll come, Gramps. It's important," Joi said to the man on her computer screen.
He huffed at her, but it was all a show. As the oldest grandchild, she had always been his favorite, and he seldom denied any reasonable request. He sighed loudly, the sign he was giving in. "Fine. I'll be there. I'm going to miss my game for this, so it better be worth it, Ezzie."
"It will be, Gramps. I promise."
Again, he rolled his eyes. "And stop calling me Gramps. In public at least." For a moment, his attention wondered to the television Joi heard playing in the background. Her grandfather pumped a fist and yelled, "Yeah! Touchdown!" His right hand brought a cup of coffee to his mouth for a sip before continuing. "Can I get a hint? Something?"
Grinning, she sprang her trap. "There's someone I want you to meet. The man I've been seeing."
~~O~~
Time has come to a complete standstill, and I'm the only one who noticed, thought Joi as she sipped her soy latte. That was the only explanation for why she'd been sitting here for a whole three minutes? Really?
The rumble of a motorcycle reached her ears over the too loud music. Steve parked next to her Prius, and shut the engine off, using his heel to put the kickstand down. Joi knocked on the window and waved. He grinned, and came inside, stopping for a coffee on the way. Steve slipped into the seat next to her, giving her a quick kiss. "What's the big surprise, babe?"
"You'll see." Though she meant her tone to be enigmatic and mysterious, it sounded stilted to her. Steve didn't seem to notice. It was probably her imagination anyway. "He'll be here soon."
He stopped with the cup halfway to his mouth, returning it to the table. "He? You're not breaking up with me, are you?"
Joi blinked in surprise, and rushed to reassure him. "Nothing like that. There's someone I want you to meet. My grandfather."
"You must be close."
"He's my best friend. Dad was deployed overseas when I was born. Mom and I stayed with him and Grams for a month while Mom recuperated from an emergency C-section. Grams worked during the day so it was just me, Mom and Gramps all day, every day. We bonded."
Steve's mood changed to glum. "I never knew my grandparents. They died when I was just a baby."
She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Then you can share mine. Dad's parents have been gone for a long time, and Grams passed a few years ago. Gramps is the only one left."
That smile was back. He leaned toward her, and she met him halfway. "If I have to share the woman I'm carrying a torch for with another man, I'm glad it's her grandfather, and not a jerk who doesn't deserve her."
"Oh, he definitely not a jerk." Their lips touched, and Joi closed her eyes, enjoying the little thrill she got every time they kissed.
They lurched apart at hearing a throat clearing. Steve got to his feet with a welcoming smile, tempered with a touch of confusion. "Bucky! What're you doing out on a Sunday? Shouldn't you be home watching football?"
Bucky crossed his arms, his demeanor slightly belligerent. More so than Joi thought the situation warranted. He lowered a minor glare at Steve. "The bigger question is why are you kissing my granddaughter?"
"Granddaughter?" Steve turned to look at her, his eyes wide in shock.
Gramps pointed at Steve. "This is the guy you wanted me to meet?"
With a sheepish grin, Joi made explosions with her hands. "Surprise."
TBC
Star Trek is a 2009 American science fiction adventure film directed by J. J. Abrams, written by Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman, and distributed by Paramount Pictures. It is the 11th film of the Star Trek film franchise, and is also a reboot that features the main characters of the original Star Trek television series with different actors in the roles.
Refugee is a song recorded by American rock band Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. It was written by Tom Petty and Mike Campbell, and was released in January 1980.
The French in this chapter is taken from Google Translate. If it's incorrect, please let me know, and I'll change it.
Merci,
Sunny
