Ch. 7

Steve arrived back at the Tower at ten o'clock on Thursday morning. He was completely exhausted, his inner clock thrown off by constantly crossing time zones. Although he was dead tired, he couldn't help but smile. It had been the first time in months that he felt like he had made progress in taking down S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies. Although they certainly hadn't completely dismantled all of Centipede's organization, Steve felt like they had at least closed a few of their labs and rounded up some of their top scientists. It was a lot better than their raids against Hydra.

When Steve reached his apartment, he nearly stumbled across the threshold. Before going to bed, he called Stacy and left her a quick message letting her know that he was back and that he was looking forward to working out together that night. He put down his phone and he sank into a dreamless sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

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He woke up, hours later, to knocking at his front door. He quickly got up and went to answer it.

"Hi," Stacy said as he opened the door. She was dressed in her workout clothes and carrying her backpack.

"Oh, hi," Steve said. "I'm sorry. I must have overslept. I was in a different time zone."

"I can see," she said with a smile, crossing into the room as Steve held the door open for her. "Are you up for working out?

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Steve said, closing the door and wiping the sleep from his eyes, still feeling groggy and disoriented.

"Well, maybe, you could change?" Stacy said, waving her hands towards him with a blush.

Steve looked down and realized he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a white undershirt. "Sorry," he said, coloring. "I'm sorry. Yeah, let me get changed," he said and he jogged over to his bedroom.

Smooth move, Rogers, Steve berated himself. First, you completely forget about her and leave her high and dry and then, you answer the door in your underwear.

After quickly changing, Steve came out. "Thanks for waiting. I just got back this morning and it usually takes me a little while to get used to the time change."

"No worries," she said.

Just then, Steve's stomach growled. He realized he hadn't eaten in hours and he was famished, but he didn't want to make Stacy wait for him.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Stacy asked, concerned.

"No, but I can just grab something quick if you want to get started working out."

"Actually, I tweaked my ankle today, playing with the kids during recess, so I'm going to skip the elliptical. Why don't you go ahead and get some dinner and then you can show me some boxing afterwards?" she asked.

"Okay," he said, glad to have company during dinner. It made him smile to picture her running after a group of little kids on a playground.

He busied himself grabbing one frozen meal after another. As he put the first one in the microwave, he saw Stacy staring at him with wide eyes.

"Are you going to eat all of those?" she asked, looking at the pile of five microwave meals he had taken from the freezer.

"Um . . . yes," Steve admitted, self-consciously. "One of the side effects of the serum is increased metabolism. I can't really get drunk and I'm almost constantly hungry."

"Oh . . . well, that must suck," Stacy said sympathetically.

"I was never a big drinker, so that's not so bad, but being ravenous all the time, well, it does create some awkward social situations."

"Wait, why didn't you eat so much around us?" Stacy asked. "We've eaten together loads of times and you haven't eaten more than the other guys."

"I would always eat before I met you guys. I just . . . I guess I just didn't want to stick out," Steve admitted.

"Okay, that's just silly. Next time, just be yourself. That's the Steve we want to hang out with."

Steve grinned to himself.

Stacy continued, "But we have to talk about your food choices. Microwaved dinners?"

Steve shrugged. "They're convenient. I'm gone a lot on missions and food tends to go bad when you're gone for weeks at a time. Also, to be honest, I've never learned how to cook."

"Well, I can see that, but you live in New York City, one of the food meccas of the world. How many hundreds of restaurants are there in this city?"

"It's not much fun eating at a restaurant by yourself," Steve said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice and failing.

"That's why God invented takeout and delivery," she said with a wink. "Okay, what's your favorite type of food? Chinese? Greek? Thai? Indian?"

Steve blinked. He rarely strayed from typical American fare while in New York. On mission, the food was rarely gourmet and his main focus was just making sure he ate enough of it.

Seeing the lost look on his face, Stacy said, "How about we start off with something simple? Pizza. I know you like pizza. You've eaten it twice with us."

Steve nodded. "Yeah, I like pizza."

"Okay, we could do this on my phone, but it'd be easier to teach you on your own computer. Do you have a laptop or something?"

"Let me go get it," he said as he went to the bedroom to retrieve it.

He brought it to the dining room table, sat down and turned it on. Steve was about to begin typing when he hesitated. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to look away. It's a work computer and it has a password."

"Oh, yeah, no worries," she said and she turned away as he keyed in the passcode.

"Okay, I'm done," he told her, glad that she wasn't offended by the request.

"Okay, once you're on the internet, just go to Yelp," she said.

He typed in the address. "Okay," she continued. "Type in pizza in that box and your street address in the other and press enter."

She leaned over him to peer intently at the screen and, all of a sudden, Steve was acutely aware of her. She had one hand on the back of his chair and the other on the dining room table next to him. He didn't even realize he was staring until she looked over and smiled.

"Do you see anything you like?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he responded, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Do any of the restaurants look good? That Luigi's has high ratings, but it looks a bit expensive."

Steve looked back at the screen, glad he hadn't gotten caught gawking at her, and shook his head. "No, not Luigi's." The last thing he want to do is order from Tony's restaurant.

"Okay, how about Marco's?" she asked, pointing midway down the screen. "It has good ratings. You can click on the link for their website and see if there's anything you'd like."

Steve went the website and clicked on the menu. Stacy pointed to the sizes and toppings listed. "So," she began, "be honest. How much pizza can you realistically eat in one meal?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes, I'd prefer that," she said, grinning.

"About one and half to two large pizzas. Maybe more if I've had to have to do anything strenuous."

"Wow . . . that is a big appetite. Well, why don't we order two larges with lots of toppings?" she suggested.

Steve shrugged his shoulders. "Sure," he replied.

"What kind of toppings do you like?" she asked.

"Anything but anchovies," he answered. A new recruit had once brought an anchovy pizza to a lunch meeting and ended having to eat the whole thing by himself at the end of the table.

"Okay, there's a combo pizza that has some pepperoni, sausage and lots of veggies on it. Why don't you get two of those? There's the phone number at the bottom of the screen."

Steve called in the order. "It should be here in about forty minutes," he informed her as his stomach growled once again.

"Good, do you have anything here that can tide you over?" Stacy asked. "Sounds like you're a bit too hungry to wait for that long without a little something in your stomach."

Steve powered down his laptop and closed it. He stood and walked to the kitchen looking through his pantry and refrigerator, eventually deciding to heat up the frozen dinner that was already in the microwave. Stacy prowled around his kitchen, peering into every cupboard.

"Wow, you weren't kidding about the whole no cooking thing. You only have one pot, one pan and a spatula that looks like it's from a dollar store. Your pantry's practically empty. You've got no seasonings other than salt and pepper. You really are a stereotypical bachelor. Didn't your mom ever teach you how to cook?"

Steve shook his head. "She passed away when I was seventeen. I spent a lot of time at my best friend's house after that."

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up a lot of bad memories. I keep sticking my foot in my mouth around you."

"It's okay," Steve reassured her. "It's nice having someone to talk to," he admitted sheepishly.

The microwave dinged and Steve took out the meal that bore absolutely no resemblance to the photo on the package.

Stacy peered at the sorry excuse for a meal. "That is neither Salisbury nor steak."

Steve smiled. "I can't tell you how disappointed I was the first time I made one. I thought, great, this is the future. I bet the food will be amazing. Then, I heated up one of these."

"In our defense, a frozen meal is hardly representative of modern cooking. Have there been any types of modern food that you have liked?" Stacy asked.

"I've been to a couple of restaurants that have been swell, but like I said, they're no fun alone."

"Well, now that we've got you set up in the wonderful world of takeout, you'll be much better off. I know it's more expensive that frozen meals, but the quality is much better."

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After the truly delicious pizzas arrived and they had their boxing lesson, Stacy took a quick shower. Steve was impressed by her progress. She was now able to last at least twenty-five minutes and her punches had much more power and precision behind them.

When Stacy came out of his bedroom, she had a shy smile. "So, do you have any plans this weekend?"

"None at the moment. Why?"

"Saturday night, we were thinking of going to laser tag, but everyone else won't do it unless you're there to even out the teams."

"Why?" Steve asked, perplexed.

"Well, I, quite frankly, kill it at laser tag. It's so bad that the rest of the group won't play with me anymore, but, I thought if you were on the opposite team, you would even the odds."

"You 'kill it' at laser tag? What's laser tag?" Steve asked.

"You wear an electronic breastplate and if someone can hit you with the laser, you lose."

"Does it hurt?" Steve asked.

"No, no, nothing like that. It just lights up if you get hit."

"And you're good at this game?"

"No, I am beyond amazing at laser tag. I started target shooting with my dad when I was just a kid and I have a hidden superpower."

"You do?" Steve asked, amused.

"Yep, I'm unbelievably sneaky. You'll never see me coming. So, are you up for playing?"

It was actually very similar to the virtual training simulations at S.H.I.E.L.D. and sounded like anything but fun to Steve. But Stacy looked up at him so expectantly that he couldn't bear to disappoint her.

"Sure. I'd love to," he said.

"Great! Let me write down the address. We'll meet there around eight. Afterwards, winner treats everyone to coffee."

"The winner does? Why not the losers?"

"'Cause I'm gonna win again and I don't want to make everyone mad at me," she declared with a cocky grin.

"You seem very sure of yourself," he said.

"Like I said, superpower. Now, umm, do you have any plans Sunday?"

Steve's eyes widened a bit at that. She had never asked him to do anything on a Sunday before.

"Not really, I usually do errands, but I can get them done on Saturday. What are you thinking?"

"Well, you know that all my friends that you've met, we all met through our church. So, I was wondering if you'd like to come on Sunday? We usually all sit together for the 11 o'clock service and then go out to lunch together. I mean, no pressure. But, I thought I'd ask," she looked so nervous when she said it, all the cocky bravado drained from her.

Steve sat there for a moment. He was a bit hesitant. He loved the idea of spending more time with Stacy and her friends and did miss going to church from time to time, but thoughts of church were always wrapped up with memories of his mother.

"You know, it's okay, if you don't want to," she said looking down.

"I'd love to come," he said reassuringly. Maybe it's time to make some new memories, he thought.

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Saturday night, Steve made it to the laser tag site right on time, having finally broke himself of the habit of arriving too early. A few minutes later, he saw Stacy and her friends walk in and wave at him as they approached.

"Okay, let's divvy up the teams. How about Michael and Josh with me and Erica and Monica with you?" Stacy said, literally bouncing up and down on her heels in anticipation.

Erica shook her head. "I want to be on Michael's team."

"Is that because you want to be with me or because you want to be on Stacy's team?" Michael asked, skeptically.

"A little of both," Erica admitted as she gave Michael a wink.

"Okay, how about you and Michael on my team and Josh and Monica on Steve's team?" Stacy suggested.

"I am totally flashing back to picking teams in high school," Josh said, slight bitterness tracing his words.

"Don't you want to be on my team?" Steve asked, feeling a bit hurt.

"No, it's not that. It's just that Stacy is going to win. She always wins," Monica said with a grin.

"Well, I do this kind of thing for a living. I'm pretty sure my team is going to win," Steve said, smiling reassuringly at Josh and Monica.

"Keep trash talking, guapo. It'll just be that much funnier when she beats you," Monica said, stifling a laugh.

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A half hour later, it was down to just him and Stacy. On his team, Josh had taken out Erica, Michael had gotten Monica and then, Steve shot Michael.

Steve knew he wasn't trying very hard. He really didn't want to win against Stacy. When she shot Josh, however, Steve's instinct took over and he finally fired back on her, but she was angled in such a way that the laser shot didn't register.

The arena was purposefully disorienting with flashing lights and Steve lost her for a moment. Then, he heard a cry up ahead.

He ran towards her, as she lied on the ground, clutching her ankle. "Are you okay?" he asked as he knelt to the ground to inspect her leg.

All of a sudden, he heard the telltale sound of his breastplate and saw the lights blinking on his chest. "Never better," she said, springing up and holstering her laser gun. "I told you I was sneaky."

"That was a dirty trick," he said through clenched teeth.

"There is no honor in laser tag," she said, chuckling, as she bent over and ruffled his hair. "C'mon, don't be sore. I'll take you out for coffee."

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As they all sat around drinking coffee at a nearby café, Steve stared at Stacy. There was something about the tactic that she had used that seemed so familiar. And then, it hit him. Natasha. She did the same thing all the time. She called it "the wounded gazelle" gambit. You get someone to think you are weaker or more vulnerable than you really are. He wondered how often someone underestimated Natasha because she was a woman, because she was beautiful. Natasha always knew how to turn it to her advantage.

"Okay, Stacy, I hope you know that this was the last time. If we can't possibly win with Steve on our side, there's no reason to even try to play," Josh said crossly, interrupting Steve's thoughts.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry. No more laser tag," Stacy said, although she looked anything but sorry.

"I'm sorry, too, Josh," Steve said. He hadn't really done his best.

"No worries, next time it's chess. Or poker," Josh said.

"I love poker," Stacy said. "Let's set up a poker night."

"So, Stacy told us that you're coming tomorrow morning," Michael said to Steve.

"Oh, yes," he replied, nodding.

"Great! I usually get there early to save seats together. I'll make sure to snag another one so that you can sit with us. We usually sit in the back so that Stacy can join us after she's finished greeting."

"That'd be great. Thank you," Steve said.

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The next morning, Steve parked his motorcycle down the street from the address he had been given. It was about ten minutes till eleven and he saw Stacy standing out front, shaking hands and welcoming a stream of people inside. He wavered for a moment, almost thinking of making up an excuse and going back. Finally, he took a deep breath and headed towards her, waving as he caught her eye.

She shook the hand of the woman in front of him, smiling and then turned to Steve. He felt a bit unsure for a moment and stuck out his hand. "Don't you dare try to shake my hand," she said with a grin, diving in for a hug, arms around his waist, her cheek against his chest.

He was surprised for a moment. He had known her for weeks now, but it was the first time she had hugged him. He hesitated for a split second before embracing her, noting that how natural, how right it felt.

After a few seconds, she let go, a sheepish smile on her face. "I'm really glad that you came. Michael's already inside, saving seats. I'll be in as soon as I'm done greeting."

"Alright," he said as he entered the building.

The church was not like anything he had ever experienced. Although Stacy had said that many of the parishioners wore jeans, Steve couldn't imagine showing up to church that way. He opted for khaki slacks and a light blue button-down shirt, but even that felt too informal for his tastes.

The church service took place in a converted warehouse with folding chairs instead of pews. He estimated that there were at least four or five hundred people there already. It was about 75% full. Up front, there was a band playing on a raised stage. There were large screens on either side of the stage with the lyrics projected on them so that the congregation could sing along. The congregation tended towards the younger side, most of them in their 20s and 30s with some older people dotting the congregation.

He spotted Michael and Erica in the back and waved at them as he made his way over. Michael shook his hand, "Glad to see you can make it. Stacy won't be in until after the songs. Can you save her the seat at the end?"

Steve nodded and sat down near the end, taking off his jacket and placing it on the seat next to his to save it for Stacy.

After a young man in his 20s got up to go over the church announcements of upcoming retreats and special programs, the band began to play once again. Most of the songs were completely unknown to Steve, although he did recognize "Amazing Grace" and "How Great Thou Art". Both songs sounded strange to him backed by electric guitars and a drum set.

As soon as the songs ended, Stacy sidled up next to him, picking up his jacket and handing it to him. "Thanks for saving me a seat," she whispered in his ear as the pastor took to the stage and began to speak.

The pastor looked out into the crowd. "So my question today is . . . who are you?"

Steve shifted a bit in his seat. He had asked himself the same question from time to time. Was he the 5'4" sickly weakling or the 6'2" superhero? Was he Steve Rogers or Captain America?

After pausing a bit, the pastor continued, pacing back and forth across the stage as he spoke. "Who are you? Where do you get your worth from? Is it from what you do? What you look like? What happens when you lose that job your identity is based on? What happens when you lose that relationship or your looks? What happens when that thing that you base your identity on crumbles around you?"

"In those darkest moments of your life, know that you are extravagantly and abundantly loved. At the times that you feel worthless, because you don't wear the 'right' clothes, drive the 'right' car, say the 'right' things, have the 'right' job, look the 'right' way, you need to know, in that moment, that you are so very loved that someone died for you. You are the son or daughter of the King who lavishes his love upon you everyday because you are his child. Everything else, everything the world tells you is important, is just transitory. It is here today and gone tomorrow. You are precious beyond measure just as you are. Not if you were taller, shorter, richer, thinner, stronger, smarter, but right now, just as you are."

"And the thing is, so is every person you meet. C.S. Lewis once said, "'There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit.'"

"We need to see our own value and worth through God's eyes, as well as the value and worth of those around us. And that means the guy who cuts you off in traffic, the woman who pushes ahead of you in line at the coffee shop."

The congregation nervously laughed. The pastor smiled at the crowd.

"How would you live your life differently if you truly rested in the fact that you are a child of the King; if you gave up striving to prove yourself? How would the rest of your week be different if you truly treated others around you as immortal, beloved brothers and sisters?"

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After the last song, the people began to stand and slowly make their way towards the exits.

Stacy turned to Steve, her expression expectant, "So, how did you like it?"

Steve smiled, "It was great. Different than what I was used to, but I really liked it."

"Do you think you might want to come again?" Stacy asked hesitantly.

"Definitely," he said with a wink.

00000

They all went to a nearby sub shop to grab a quick lunch. Monica and Stacy were chatting about the upcoming school week. They only had a little more than a month to go in the school year and both the teachers and their students were looking forward to summer vacation. Erica and Michael were talking about some lab results that looked promising for their research.

"So, any big summer plans?" Josh asked Steve before he could start eating the three foot-long sandwiches he had ordered.

Steve thought for a moment. He really didn't make any plans, tending to just float along day by day. "No, not really, you?"

"I'm going to visit my aunts and uncles back in the Philippines for about a week. I haven't seen any of my cousins for ages. Skype's nice, but I'd rather be there face to face."

"That should be good," Steve said, wistfully.

"Do you have any family? I mean, any that are still around?" Josh asked.

"A couple of distant cousins. I was an only child, so no nieces or nephews," Steve replied.

"That's rough. I've got three sisters. The youngest one still lives with my parents. We all get together on Sunday nights for a big family dinner."

"Wow. That sounds wonderful," Steve said, feeling a bit envious.

"Yeah, I guess I'm just used to it. There isn't a lot of privacy, but it's good to know that they always have your back."

Steve looked over at Stacy and briefly thought about what it would be like to have a family of his own. A wife. Kids. People who would always be there for him.

He shook his head briefly to clear his thoughts. "It must be nice."


Author's note- Spanish translation - guapo -handsome, good-looking