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Coffee Girl

Chapter Six: Pity Save

Jillian had stopped him in the hall for some conversation. She had done this a few times before and they always had a nice, albeit brief talk. But today was different. Today, Steve found himself slowly backed up against the wall, Jillian pushing further into his personal space.

"So what do you think?" Jillian asked. "Maybe you and I could go out for drinks sometime?"

Steve could barely register the words. Her body was too close to his, and all he could do was stare at that purple hair hovering just below his chin. Why purple? What possessed these modern girls to do that to their hair? Steve understood that girls liked to be individuals and express themselves. He wished them all the luck and happiness with that. But these modern girls... so many of them were more than he was ready for.

His back was flattened against the wall. He had run out of retreating room.

Jillian moved into his space, her breasts lightly brushing against him for just a momentary tease. "Then, maybe later I could show you my new place. It's really nice." She raised a manicured nail and scraped it lightly over the material on his chest.

Steve's heart fluttered, the sensation brought goosebumps to his arms and a ripple down his spine. Yet, he was not enjoying himself. Inwardly, he felt ridiculous that he, Captain America, didn't know how to handle the situation with one pushy woman. He was pathetic.

Jillian stood on her toes, leaning up so her breath stirred over his mouth. She smelled like cigarettes.

"We could even try out my new bed," she rasped.

Steve's mouth fell open, trying to find the words as his brain scrambled in all directions.

"The springs are quite nice."

His mind went blank.

"Steve," a sharp female voice cut through the tension.

Steve would have guessed it to be Natasha. No woman commanded attention like she did. It wasn't the confident redhead, however, but Agent Gray who stood before the two, hands on her hips.

"I've been waiting for you," she demanded, looking them over. "Those reservations won't keep all night. You're the one who begged me to go. So are you coming?"

Steve worked his mouth again, and this time he found his voice. "Right. Right. I can't wait. I've been looking forward to it all week, really." He glanced at Jillian who had finally backed up a little. "Sorry, but I've got to go."

The purple-haired woman's face went tight as if she smelled something foul. She gave the stink eye to Agent Gray but said nothing.

Steve hurried away, eager to take advantage of his window of opportunity.

Agent Gray put an arm loosely around his torso in a fairly innocent touch with a "Come on, babe." She threw a warning glare at Jillian as they walked off.

Steve was still reeling from the whole encounter as they turned the next corner and Agent Gray's arm instantly dropped away from him.

"How did I do, Captain Rogers?" she asked in that softer tone he was more familiar with.

Steve saw her small, secretive smile and couldn't help but smile back. "I think you saved me."

"You looked like you needed a save."

"Jillian is a very nice girl, but she... I just didn't..."

"You didn't want to hurt her feelings," Agent Gray finished for him. "Because you're a good person. I didn't mind being the bad guy for you."

She kept walking and Steve had to increase his pace to keep up with her.

"I haven't seen seen you in a few weeks." This time, he had actually noticed when she wasn't around to tell him good morning. When she had been absent from his routine for several days, he started to ask around for her. Bruce had insisted he still saw her here and there, usually after hours. So she was in the building, she was just making herself scarce for some reason. Natasha told him to keep his pants on. Agent Gray was very good at being in visible when she didn't want to be found. When she was ready to come out, he would see her then and not a moment before. So Steve remained patient.

"Kept to myself until this looked better," she said, pointing to her temple where her wounds had now mostly healed. "I'm vain that way. Plus Fury would rather any outside activities on my part be kept on the down-low. Even here."

Right. Because SHIELD had secrets within secrets. Steve had to keep reminding himself of that. He continued to walk with Marcy right up to her office. She stepped inside and gathered a few files and a notebook from her desk. Steve loitered against the door frame.

"So, was that a pity save you did back there?" he asked with humor.

She smiled at him, reflecting that humor as she brushed back out of the office and down the hall toward the elevator.

"Because there's no pity saves in SHIELD," Steve continued the joke, catching up to her again.

They both paused at the elevator and Marcy pushed the arrow button pointing up.

"And you still haven't explained to me how you got left behind in Romania. How exactly did I miss you? I counted everyone: both when we left and came back."

Marcy gave him with a secretive smile. However, she offered no answer.

"Fine," Steve surrendered. The elevator dinged and they both got on. "But I still feel like I owe you. For the mission and for... the pity save."

Marcy raised a brow at him as the doors closed. "Captain America owes me a favor?" She pressed a button to one of the upper floors.

"Sure do. Name it; anything."

As the elevator rose, Marcy produced a pen and scribbled something down in her notebook. Then she tore off the top part of the paper and handed it to him. Steve read over the words and then looked at her curiously.

"Say it," Marcy said. "But don't be silly about it. Say it like you mean it."

A smile tugged at the soldier's mouth. He tipped his head toward her, blue eyes looking her in the face. One hand rested on his belt.

"Just doing my duty, ma'am."

Marcy jerked her head away when she could no longer keep a serious face. A smile forced its way on her lips wider and wider. She brushed a few stray strands from her face as she kept glancing to and away from him, completely tickled. Steve was starting to find her windswept look more endearing than distracting. Her smile, when she smiled like that, was infectious.

The doors opened and she stepped out.

"Are you sure there's not something I can do for you?" Steve called after her.

"You've already done it," Marcy replied over her shoulder. There was a lightness in her voice he had never heard before. Steve found himself wanting to hear it again.

She continued down the hall to a desk situated before large double doors with a huge SHIELD logo painted from floor to ceiling.

"These are for Director Fury when he gets in tomorrow," she told the secretary. "Have a good night."

"You, too, Agent Gray."

Marcy turned back down the hall to find that Steve Rogers and the elevator that brought them up were both gone. She took a deep breath to swallow the disappointment that he had not waited for her. He had no reason to. As she waited for the elevator to come back up, she considered herself lucky to merely have his attention to herself for a moment. Besides, he gave her a fond memory to look back upon and she couldn't help but smile again when she thought of his face when he said those words.

After returning to her office for her jacket and switching to a pair for more comfortable shoes, Marcy walked out of the building, toward the parking lot to retrieve her car.

"Agent Gray."

The male voice calling her name caused her heart to flutter and she froze in her steps before turning around. There stood Steve Rogers next to his motorcycle, two helmets in his hands.

"Sorry I left earlier, I had to run down and grab my extra helmet."

She approached him, eyes curious. "Why is that?"

"I saw you once, just standing there looking at my bike."

Marcy glanced away a little embarrassed to be caught.

Steve gently put a helmet in her hands. "I figured out how I'll make it up to you."

The roar of the motorcycle engine cut out all opportunities for conversation, but Marcy didn't care. This was enough, she couldn't ask for anything else after tonight. She could die happy having Steve Rogers in her arms, holding him from behind as they drove through the city in the afternoon glow. Though still spring, it was warm enough outside that her jacket was enough to keep her comfortable. Even if it wasn't, she wouldn't have said a thing. She would gladly stay with Steve Rogers until he decided their evening was done.

Marcy had her eyes closed, enjoying the warmth and the solid feel of his body against the crispness of the cool night air when the motorcycle slowed to a stop. She looked out at the pier, the lights, and all the people wandering through the shops.

"What are we doing here?"

Steve removed his helmet. "I'm hungry, are you hungry?"

She grinned. "Starving."

There was a small seafood place right on the pier where they decided to get fish and fries. As Marcy reached for her cash, Steve stopped her.

"No need, I'm paying."

"You don't have to," she argued. "I've got money."

"I know, but I owe you, remember?"

She smirked. "Trust me, you've paid me back in spades already."

"But I haven't done anything for you yet!" Steve protested in a surprisingly emphatic voice. "Why do you expect so little of me?"

"I don't know why you keep feeling like you owe me. I promise you don't. But if you want to buy me food, then please." She motioned toward the ordering counter. "I'll happily eat it and then we can be even. Sound good?"

"Good," Steve said, sounding pleased. "And I'm getting extra onion rings so you better have some."

Marcy smirked at him. She would take whatever he wanted to give her.

"So I called her, mostly to get Natasha off my back," Steve said after chewing another bite of his fish burger. "But I really just wanted to see if I could do it. I mean, it's been ninety years since I asked a girl out- at least. And I certainly wasn't a pro at it back then either."

"And her name was Sharon?" Marcy asked as she sipped her straw. "I think I know which agent you're talking about. She quit and joined the CIA, right?"

"Right. The whole Hydra thing didn't sit well with her. I didn't blame her at all. We went out and it was... pretty nice. But then I found out her last name was Carter."

Marcy looked at him blankly. She didn't see what was wrong with Agent Carter.

"As in Peggy Carter?"

Marcy's eyes widened then in understanding.

"Turns out she's her grand niece or something close to that."

"That's a little weird," Marcy blurted out. "Uh- I mean, I'm sure she's very nice."

"No, she is very nice," Steve replied. "She's beautiful and smart and she certainly knows how to shoot a gun. But you're right, it was weird. And maybe it's my own paranoia, but I couldn't help but think SHIELD was trying to set us up. What? Since Peggy and I..." He paused and sighed. "So I'm supposed to date her relatives now? I'm supposed to transpose my feelings to another person because they share the same genes? How is that fair to either of us?"

"It's not," Marcy said quietly. "I'm sorry that happened to you. SHIELD can be way more nosy than they need to be sometimes. Just remember, you don't have to date or love anyone you don't want to. You don't even have to go looking. You can do anything you want in your own time and no one has the right to push you faster than you're ready."

Steve looked over at her and the side of his mouth ticked up. "Thanks. No one's really said that to me before. It's been nothing but pushing since I woke up here."

By then, Marcy's mouth was stuffed with fries and she covered her mouth before politely mumbling a "no problem".

Steve watched her as she tried to swallow her mouth full of food. She was so easy to talk to. He still couldn't believe he told her about all that. "Sorry, I'm unloading on you. I just don't really have a lot of people to talk to about this stuff."

"Not at all. I don't mind being a sounding board and I'm quite good at keeping secrets." She leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm a spy, you know."

She was rewarded with Steve's smile.

"So what about you, Agent Gray? Please tell me you have better luck at this than I do."

She huffed loudly. "I wish. The last guy I asked out was a horrific disaster."

"Wait, you asked him?"

"My mistake entirely, believe me."

Steve paused. "Do you... want to tell me about it?"

Marcy's smile disappeared and she pulled away. "I'd rather not."

Steve was surprised how much that hurt his feelings and he began to gather up his empty food wrappers. "No, that's fine. After all, the whole of SHIELD knows all my personal business, but of course I shouldn't expect the same consideration from anyone else."

He got up to leave.

"He hated me," Marcy called after him, causing Steve to freeze in his tracks. "He laughed in my face when I asked him. He told all my co-workers how pathetic I was. It was mortifying."

With brows drawn, Steve slowly turned around and sat back down.

"You're aware what I do at SHIELD central, right?" Marcy asked.

Steve shook his head, realizing for the first time he knew nothing about this woman.

"I was transferred to the main building after the whole Hydra thing to help sniff out any remaining moles. Fury has always been suspicious of enemy eyes and ears in the organization. I go from one station to the other making sure our agents are legit."

"So you..."

"I'm a nark, yes. I am the interior spy. I know what everyone does, what their favorite hobbies are, who's wife is cheating on them and who is cheating on their wives."

"And you tell all this to Fury."

Marcy frowned. "I tell none of it to Fury. That's none of his business. I only tell him when I see an agent that needs further investigation. It's unfortunate that we need people like me, but in light of the Hydra fiasco, I am necessary."

That was why Fury always wanted her to be practically invisible while at work.

"Let me guess, this guy you liked found out what you do," Steve surmised.

"And he told all my coworkers. Everyone hated me after that. And this guy, he would throw my affection for him in my face any chance he got. It was so bad I had to be transferred. Several people at HQ still know what I do so I try to not be noticed if I can."

Steve reflexively clenched his fists, suddenly feeling protective of her. "I don't suppose he works in the main building."

"He doesn't work anywhere," Marcy said quietly. "He died on a mission almost a year ago."

"Oh." Steve wasn't sure he should say he was sorry for that.

"I was with a group sent to pull his team out. I was there when he died." Her voice fell lower in volume. "I did try to save him, but he passed before I could get him out. I had to leave his body behind." She then sucked in air and shook herself of her melancholy. "Turns out he most likely was a sleeper agent of Hydra to begin with, which is why he had such a massive problem with me. Still... I guess we'll never know for sure."

She forced a smile to her face and shrugged. Steve couldn't believe she still felt sad about a man who not only treated her so horribly, but was the enemy. This man could have killed her without a second thought and she still clearly felt bad about his death and leaving his body behind.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been a jerk about making you tell me this."

"No, it's fine," she sighed. "It's over with and I've learned my lesson: I am very, very bad at deciphering other people's feelings about me. So I'm just not going to guess anymore."

Steve looked her in the face. "I hope this one incident doesn't stop you from telling people your true feelings."

Marcy shook her head with a rueful laugh. Tell her true feelings, he said. No, she was not going to tell Steve Rogers, Captain America, that she had a dorky high school crush on him, just like practically every other woman at work. No, she didn't want to be another person trying to force something on him when he clearly wasn't ready. He wasn't looking for a lover, but it was clear he wanted a friend.

"Well, we'll see if anything else ever comes up," she said with humor. "Until then, I'll be happy to be your pity save again if it gets me free food."

He laughed right out at that. "Sounds like a plan."

With the more somber tone of their past conversation, Steve thought it best to let Marcy decide the next move. If it appeared she wished to go home, he would be happy to take her. But the brunette woman kept staring at the water front so he suggested they take a walk and check out the collection of shops in the area.

They didn't get too far when Marcy gasped at the small nickle arcade sign illuminated in electric neon. She immediately dragged Steve in, looking for a particular machine. They stopped before a very large apparatus where two teenage boys were dancing on large metal pads, trying to place their foot in the corresponding arrow as they scrolled across the screen.

"Just one quick game," Marcy promised. "I have to play Dance Dance whenever I see it. Just indulge me."

Steve made no argument and gallantly motioned to the machine as the boys finished their turn and stepped off. Marcy excitedly jumped on, digging into her pocket for change. She then looked at Steve.

"Do you want to try it with me?"

The soldier immediately raised his palms in surrender. "I don't even know how to dance regularly, let alone on that thing."

"This isn't dancing. You just stand on the arrows that the screen tells you. Come on, I'll set it on an easy level for you."

Steve eventually acquiesced and stepped onto the second metal pad. He stood patiently as Marcy fiddled with all the settings for him and picked the song. As the music began, he was instantly aware Marcy had far more arrows on her screen than he did. Her legs were a blur while Steve had trouble catching the beat in the loud arcade.

On the second song, Marcy was winded so she picked an easier level for herself so she could keep an eye on Steve and help him get the beat. By the third song, Steve still stumbled, so Marcy took it on herself to try to play both pads at the same time, despite Steve's protests that he could do it himself.

Both were playfully pushing each other off their arrows when the machine announced they lost that round. The two stepped off the machine laughing and Steve found himself wondering when was the last time he laughed so hard.

As they stepped out of the arcade, Steve looked down at his companion. "Agent Gray, did you take me there just so you could show off to me?"

She threw back her head and laughed. "Yes, Steve, I wanted to show off how much of a dork I am by getting an average score on an outdated children's game." She suddenly caught herself. "Sorry, I meant Captain Rogers."

"Steve's fine, if you're comfortable with it."

"I'll keep that in mind. But I'll probably still refer to you by Captain at work."

"It would have to be 'Captain.' I have been told there is already another Mr. Rogers who is 'far more famous and beloved than I am.' Clint's words, not mine."

She burst out a chuckle. "That would be true."

"And I'll still refer to you as Agent Gray?"

She smirked. "Fine. You may call me Marcy if you must. But only when my coworkers aren't around. I don't want them thinking we're friends."

Steve couldn't help it, he laughed again.

Try as he might to avoid her, Steve was caught by Jillian the next day. She managed to corner him right off the elevator, blocking his way down the hall.

"How was your date last night, Captain?" she pressed with more than just a casual tone.

Date? Oh, right. The pity save from the day before. Could he call that a date? He had taken her back to her car shortly after the arcade and they had said friendly good-byes. It wasn't exactly romantic, but it had been fun.

"Very nice, thanks for asking," he nodded, trying to be on his way.

He caught a sharp look of jealousy from her as he left.

"I don't know what you see in her," she called after him. "That girl doesn't talk to anyone, she doesn't go anywhere. She's so boring."

Steve paused and turned to look at the purple-haired woman. Boring. Marcy Gray was anything but. She knew more secrets than Steve had ever kept and had the integrity to keep most of them to herself. She calmly faced danger when no one had her back and drove like she invented the laws of physics herself.

Jillian may have fancied herself a strong, independent woman, confident enough to wear any color of hair she wished. Working in SHIELD's statistics division, she was probably also a math genius. But she also worked a desk. Jillian would never see an actual mission. Moreover, she would never have a DNR in her file. She would never know what it was like to go into a dangerous situation alone, knowing she only had herself to rely on to get out.

And yet, Marcy Gray, the agent that extracted others when no one would extract her, still laughed without restraint and hoped for the future, and found time to be silly. And was a vision when standing in the rain.

Steve looked Jillian in the eyes and shrugged. "Maybe I like boring."

He turned from her incredulous face and walked off. Secretly, Steve was left wondering about himself. Did he just admit that he liked... her? He mulled that question over for a while as he went about his day.

Late that night, he was still loitering around HQ as usual. Most employees went home after work hours. They had families and friends, places that felt like home to go to for some downtime. Steve had none of those things. No place felt safe and familiar; no place felt like home. If he had nowhere else to be, might as well be here: the building that never rested, if he could not rest himself.

As he haunted the hallways, he passed Bruce Banner's lab, a place that also rarely saw its owner sleep. With most of the walls made of glass, it was easy to see Bruce inside. He was not alone. Agent Gray sat herself upon one of the tables, feet on a chair. She, for the first time Steve had ever seen, was dressed in jeans and a regular shirt, her hair down around her shoulders. She was speaking to Bruce in an animated fashion, eyes bright and full of humor as she gestured wildly while Bruce looked terribly amused.

Steve asked himself his earlier question. Did he like Agent Gray? No, he couldn't say that he did. Because he did not know the real Marcy Gray. He had seen a glimpse of her the other day at the pier, and also on the plane from Romania. There was a person in there, hiding behind that veneer of careful professionalism and lack of eye contact. Steve saw a little bit more of her with each interaction.

Bruce must have noticed him standing there. He waved to Steve and gestured an invitation, motioning to the spread of pizza, bread sticks and salad before them. Agent Gray glanced back to see him and he saw that careful mask slide back into the place in his presence. Her animated gestures were gone, but then she smiled and a bit more of her peered out again.

If Steve were honest with himself, he would have to admit he wore a mask, too. Bucky was the last person to see the real Steve Rogers. Captain America was then created to be his facade and he had kept it as a shield, especially after waking up in the modern world. Bruce Banner as well wore his careful mask to assure the other staff members in the building that he was as harmless as could be. They were all pretenders, guardians of their real selves.

No, Steve did not like Marcy Gray's mask, but he could not fault her for wearing one. As he entered the lab and greeted the others, he hoped maybe they could one day grow to be able look at each without the masks between them.