Hi everyone, I know what you're all thinking, "wtf happened to chapters 10-14?" I missed a critical detail in my skeleton and now I have to rewrite 20,000+ words because chapter 15 would not make any sense at all :/ So the reviews no longer make any sense now also, I apologize. I have revised the plot also to reorganize some things that would conflict with chapter 15 as well. Some things I have kept the same, but a lot has also changed. It should be smoother sailing this time around.
Words of advice: Follow your skeleton and read it very thoroughly. If you have questions, PM me.
Cypra sat quietly on her bed after she had dressed, "Don't touch." Natasha had warned her. "Don't make extended eye contact."
Why was Natasha so concerned about these things? Cypra knew she shouldn't overreact about it, this was something to be enjoyed, not worried about. She considered getting up and telling Steve she didn't feel well, it wasn't a lie, but she didn't want to be rude either. How many people were asked to go out with Captain America? Nobody.
She felt bad for kicking Bucky out of the room, actually, she didn't. Maybe she did? She stood, this indecisiveness was going to kill her. She felt nauseous as she rose, her nerves or…? She put a hand on her stomach, heart racing at the thought of possibly carrying new life. She hadn't even thought about it. It was early, but the brain fog and queasiness had slowly started about a week ago. If she was pregnant though, this would be the second time in 3 years her birth control had failed. Nobody could possibly be that unlucky.
She didn't like dresses, she hated them. She wore a nice top and a skirt instead.
Someone knocked, "Come in." Her voice was shaky, result of the queasiness.
Thor entered, Cypra noticed how he filled the whole doorway as he did. "Do you have a moment?"
She nodded.
"You look ill." Thor told her.
"I'll be ok."
"I'm needed with my people." He told her. "I shouldn't be gone for more than a few days."
She nodded a second time, "Thanks for telling me."
Thor noticed the hand on her stomach, "Are you…"
"I don't know." She said softly refusing eye contact, she had forgotten her hand was there. "Possibly."
The God of Thunder was quiet, "I can take you back to the healers if need be."
The woman nodded a third time, "I'll let you know."
Thor embraced her shortly.
"Be careful." She told him.
"I will." He assured, squeezing her shoulder gently before leaving the room.
There was never too much to be said between her and Thor, they were at the relational level of being able to tell whole stories with one look. They often did in battle. She knew nobody would really understand it, and Bucky would be especially jealous if she tried to explain it, even it was a very platonic relationship.
She made her way out of her room, down the hall, and towards the elevator that would take her to the parking garage. Her legs were heavy, like lead, it was like moving through water. Hitting the 'P' button she leaned against the railing, trying not to vomit as the elevator took her down.
Cold air hit her square in the face and made her gasp a little as the door opened. Steve was there, leaning against a black stingray. She met his eyes and darted them back to the ground as she exited the elevator. "Captain." She greeted.
"You can call me Steve." He smirked. He was clad in dress pants and a nice blue shirt, matching his eyes, with a black tie.
"You're a superior officer." She countered.
"But I'm not your superior officer." He argued. "Plus, we're in different branches."
Cypra couldn't look at him, her autism was starting to take over, the Asperger's part. Social cues were now unfamiliar, eye contact was impossible, and she wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere and play Mario Kart on a Nintendo DS. How? How did she make it to First Lieutenant in the Air Force? "Ok." She settled.
"Something wrong?"
Cypra forced herself to look at him and smile. "No, just shocked that you own a Corvette."
"It's Natasha's." He admitted. "I don't have a car."
That made more sense. She nodded. "You smell good." She blurted, and then covered her mouth briefly in horror. Why, why, why did she just say that? Her Asperger's was going to ruin this whole entire night.
Steve raised an eyebrow, smiling shyly at the compliment. "Well, you look and smell good." He opened the passenger door, "ready?"
Hell no.
She smiled and got into the passenger seat, letting him close the door gently after her. If she just kept her mouth shut the whole night, there was no way she could say something else she'd regret.
He got in beside her, starting the engine, which roared with power. Closing the door, he buckled himself in and adjusted the rearview mirror. Cypra buckled her seatbelt also, but secretly hoped they'd get in a wreck bad enough for her to be killed but him to be spared so she didn't have to be this unsettled ever again. She then thought back to Bucky and decided that was a really selfish want, especially if she was growing a little one.
Cypra noticed his shield in the back seat, she turned to him, watching his focused eyes as he made his way out of the parking garage and into the light. She admired his hands, firmly gripping the steering wheel, she wanted to touch them again, and feel their warmth. 'Don't touch.'
After 5 long minutes, she asked, "Are you ok?" Steve wasn't quiet for more than 3 minutes at a time she noticed, unless he was doing something. Did she make him uncomfortable with that comment?
He smiled that perfect smile at her, but there was a hint of uncertainty in those blue eyes of his. "It's been a while since I've taken anyone out."
"I've never even been on an actual date before." She shrugged.
Steve looked surprised at first but then amused. "Did your dad scare them all off?"
Cypra nodded, "For lack of a better explanation, yes."
She thought back to when she was younger, how fixated she was on who he was. She didn't really have interest in boys because of her intense schooling, extracurriculars, and because of, well, him.
"Ms. Cypra, you're up next." The teacher announced.
Cypra hopped out of her chair excitedly, grabbed her poster and ran up to the front of the class. She must have been seven at the time. The project theme was important people in history, amongst the Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, and Clara Barton posters she stood hers up on the table. "My project is about Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America, the world's first chemically enhanced super soldier, he was a hero in World War Two."
The class 'oohed' and 'ahhed' as they saw the poster, I had lights, footage, and Tony had somehow managed to find one of Steve's pins from the war. He'd bought it for almost a hundred thousand dollars, just for Cypra's class project. She rambled on about him for 15 minutes, and then passed out cookies decorated like Steve's shield. She beamed as she brought home the poster with a bright red A++ to Tony, who kissed her and turned on a Captain America documentary on the history channel. Cypra, at seven years of age, watched all three hours of it.
Now, she was here, twenty-three years of age, and the man out of time himself, was taking her out to dinner. If she could go back in time and tell her seven-year-old self that, she would have flipped out. She studied him, it was no wonder women looked like they were going to faint at the sight of him. Cypra herself was hit with a dizzy spell so she redirected her attention to the trees outside. "What was World War Two like?" She inquired, suddenly, she was fascinated by the whole thing, each battle, how the Axis and Allies fought for power.
Steve told her, for an hour and a half he shared his experiences. He told her of death, pain, and suffering, but equally explained the light, beauty, and victory he saw also. He talked about Peggy, her short hair and intimidating demeanor, he talked about falling in love with her and how he didn't even understand what it was at first. He spoke about Bucky, how the war had hardened him, but how their friendship managed to persevere. It was interesting to hear about a different Bucky, the original Bucky. He sounded like kind of a jerk, and a womanizer, but some things were still the same. Cypra saw tears in his eyes as he recalled the day he lost his friend. It was clear that he still felt a lot of guilt surrounding the tragedy, and Cypra was careful not to ask any questions about it, she sat quietly and just listened.
At last they pulled into the parking lot, Steve was not interested in looking for spaces to park, since they were already 10 minutes late for their reservation. He pulled up to valet, "We're late."
The pair exited the vehicle and Steve handed the man at the podium the keys with a bill attached to it.
Instinctively, Cypra grabbed his bicep and let him lead her inside. 'Don't touch' She pushed the voice away, it wasn't personal, she just didn't want to get lost. The second level where Steve and Cypra were, was much quieter and only a few guests were seated up there. Cypra counted the exits, the number of waiters and waitresses, the number of people downstairs, over 70. Damn near a fire hazard. It was force of habit, she did this wherever she went. She noticed Steve looking at her as they sat down. She met his eyes with curiosity.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"Just counting our ways out." She told him.
Steve smiled sweetly at her. "Do you trust me?"
That question caught her off guard. She supposed she trusted him, after all, he hadn't given her a reason not to.
"Yeah, why?"
"Can you trust that I'm going to protect you at all costs?" He met her eyes with a gentle assurance, Cypra felt her whole body relax at the sight of him. 'Eye contact' Natasha's voice echoed in her head. Cypra broke her gaze and shifted it to an empty salad plate in front of her.
"I can take care of myself."
"Never said you couldn't." Steve countered. "But it's my duty as Bucky's friend, Tony's friend, and your date, to do so."
She thought about what her dad might do to Steve if he let something happen to her. It wouldn't be pretty, she smiled at the thought of him yelling at Steve for some reason. She took a deep breath, "Okay."
Steve smirked and thanked the waiter as they got their menus. He ordered 2 glasses of wine but Cypra corrected one to water, she needed to be totally sober out here.
The whole thing was in Italian, which was fine because she spoke that, but she couldn't decide what she wanted because the options were endless. She finally decided on cheese and mushroom ravioli. Cypra regained her composure and put her menu down. Steve was frowning at his.
"Do you need help translating it?" Cypra inquired.
Steve looked up. "You speak Italian?"
"I speak, English, Spanish, German, Italian, Romanian, Russian, Mandarin, Japanese, Korean, and I'm sure I'm missing a couple…" She thought for a moment. "They'll come to me."
Steve's eyes widened a little. She translated about 30 dishes for Steve before he finally settled on a Carbonara dish.
As they were waiting for the waiter to return, Cypra became fidgety. She didn't want to meet his eyes, but she didn't want to be rude and ignore him. So, she studied the faces of all of the waiters and waitresses and committed them to memory. What if one of them tried to kill her? What if they were all HYDRA, waiting for her to be here, waiting for this very night when Bucky wasn't around to protect her? She felt the gun tucked in between her skirt and thigh. She was dangerously underprepared. What if this was all part of some big plan to take her out for good? Her and Bucky were their worst nightmare after all, but individually they weren't as effective. She should have just let him come. What if-
"Cypra."
She whipped her head back around at the sound of her name.
"What are you scared of?" Steve's gentle eyes rested on hers.
"I'm not scared of anything." She told him. Fear was uncommon for her, things made her uncomfortable, edgy, but rarely scared.
Steve thought for a moment, "Let me rephrase that then, what is making you anxious?"
"I'm not used to being out in public like this." She admitted. "I'm usually on base or holed up somewhere." She lied, well, only partially. Before she was sent after Bucky, she did spend most of her time on an Air Force base or hidden away somewhere. How was she supposed to explain her job? She couldn't.
Steve nodded like he understood. "Crowds make you nervous. I get that, but I'm right here. If you're worried about HYDRA-"
"-You're not even supposed to know about that." She cut him off. "Natasha needs to keep her mouth shut or she's going to get herself killed."
Steve was quiet.
"You guys don't understand." She shook her head. "You really have no clue."
What was so dangerous about her? Was it what she could do? The fact that she couldn't control it? Steve couldn't wrap his head around it, HYDRA had collapsed, and even if there were factions out there, they couldn't be very big. There must be something he was missing.
Steve decided to start conversation, he needed to take her mind off of what was bothering her. The waiter returned with their drinks, giving Steve the perfect amount of time to think about what he was going to ask her after they ordered their food.
"What was Tony like when you were little?" He started.
To Steve's delight, a smile crept across her face. "I don't know where to begin really. He was a good dad, he was troubled a lot, but he always made sure I was taken care of."
Steve thought for a moment, "Troubled how?"
"He was struggling with an addiction when I was 13, a different addiction than the painkillers I was talking about, I had just met Pepper, she took custody of me for two years and straightened me out. I was a bad kid." She laughed a little. "Being separated ended straightening us both out. But before all that, he was hung up about his parents a lot."
Steve felt a pang of guilt. Cypra felt it too. They were both quiet.
"You said you were debriefed; did you ever approach Bucky about it?" The soldier began. He was going to siphon as much information as possible about their relationship. He couldn't figure them out at all. They didn't talk to each other during the day, but whenever they did it was raw and emotional. Bucky was not one to cry, but he was crying this morning.
Cypra nodded, "I try to keep my emotions out of my line of work, Rogers. What's done is done." She knew what he was trying to do, and she was going to shut him out. He was going to have to do way better than that.
"And what exactly is your line of work?"
"Military."
Steve sat up straighter, "They don't send the 'military' after ghost assassins from terrorist organizations." It was too late that he realized his tone was accusatory. This was dinner, not an interrogation.
Cypra smiled, he was curious, and perhaps even distrusting of her; that was ok. He should be. "Why did you bring me out here Steven?"
Steve tensed at the use of his full name, he'd asked one too many questions and now she was suspicious. Hoping he hadn't totally blown her trust he sighed. "Honestly, I just wanted to get to know you. Tony doesn't talk about you, and Bucky doesn't like to either. I'm interested in getting to know you on my own."
"What's so interesting about me?"
"You're close to the people I'm close to." He told her. "You're important to them, so you're important to me."
Cypra might have fallen for that, except for the fact that she knew there was another variable involved. Steve was wanting to get to know her quickly, instead of over time like usual. This was outside of his character. Steven Grant Rogers innately was a reserved, almost completely introverted individual. He gathered most of his information through observation. She could tell he was getting frustrated because with her, there was nothing to observe. She was emotionless most of the time thanks to, you guessed it, her autism. His next tactic of getting information was direct questioning, and just as she suspected, this wasn't a 'date' for fun, this was exactly that. Fishing for information. This is why she was so nervous about it.
"Your attempts to manipulate me into talking about James aren't going to work honey." She shook her head. "If he won't talk to you about it, I'm not at liberty to discuss it either."
"I'm seeing that." Steve replied irritably. 'Honey'
"Looks like you're just going to have to enjoy a night out and leave the obtaining of covert information to Natasha, you're terrible at it."
"So I've been told." He took a sip of his wine. Steve was only 'playing spy' to distract himself from the feeling creeping up inside of him. The one that made his heart race and blood pressure spike. The one he was losing control over. He directed his attention to her face. She was eyeing one of the waitresses again, biting her bottom lip in thought. The last time Steve saw a woman that beautiful and alluring was in 1945. He didn't think natural beauty like that existed any more in a world full of plastic surgery and lip fillers. Nobody was that pretty anymore. He was wrong. She turned to face him, she opened her mouth slightly, like she was going to say something, but instead, she thanked the waiter who placed food in front of her.
"Don't you have a girlfriend?" Cypra piped up. "What's her name?"
"I don't have a girlfriend, and if you're referring to Sharon-" Steve began.
"Sharon who?" Cypra inquired further.
"Sharon Carter, you might have met her. I assume SHIELD was involved with the operation?" He continued, "Nick being your uncle and all."
The color drained from her face. Steve was dead correct. "We're acquainted, yes." She admitted reluctantly. The battle of the Triskelion she'd read about it trying to catch up on the way over to the facility. They must have met there, because she wasn't supposed to tell Steve that Fury had assigned her to him. Shit, she'd missed a lot.
"Do you not like her?"
Cypra laughed, yeah right was she about to talk about how she knew Sharon. "What's your favorite color?"
Steve smirked, the rest of the date was then devoted to getting to know the basics, and they were both fine with that.
Cypra was freezing as they walked back out to the car. A cold front must have blown in. Before Steve opened the passenger door he said, "I'm sorry if I offended you by trying to pry. You are a piece to a huge puzzle and I'm just trying to see where you fit in."
That was the truth, Cypra could tell by the way his eyes became soft and looked away from hers. She knew he didn't mean any harm, but there were just some things best left unsaid. Why she was hiding from her childhood hero? She wanted to protect him, she saw the hurt he already endured in his life and she didn't want to cause more problems for him. She nodded. "I get it. I do." She looked up at him.
An interesting look crossed Steve's face, she'd never seen it before. Suddenly she was against his chest, wrapped firmly into his arms. Her first instinct was to want to shove him off of her, 'Don't touch' but she caught herself, relaxed and let him hug her. She rested her arms around him too and listened to the sound of his heart. She thought that she would have a rush of adrenaline, but no, it had the opposite effect. Everything slowed, she was warm, she could honestly fall asleep like this if she wanted. This was a losing battle, every time she thought she had it under control he did something like this. It was a brush of their shoulders, lingering eye contact, or standing a bit closer to each other than the average person would.
Cypra felt warm breath below her earlobe, and then even warmer lips plant a gentle kiss to her neck. Her heart jolted in her chest and she broke out in goosebumps as his beard brushed against her. The adrenaline surge she had been expecting finally took over as he met her eyes again, his eyes, his lips, he was so close. So close that he brushed his nose against hers. She wanted to kiss him. Wanted to. Longed to. She gently pushed him back. She couldn't believe it, she liked him.
"I'm sorry." He apologized quickly and shook his head like he was coming out of a fog or something. "I don't know what came over me." He opened the door for her.
She didn't either, but she was devastated. Sitting down she wondered how could she be in a relationship with someone and then suddenly fall face flat for his best friend? That only happened in the movies. She was disgusted with herself. Emotionally it made sense because she'd been invested in him for years through research, as a teenager she dreamed about him often, but logically, she'd barely known him for a month and a half. He didn't seem to care though, because by the look of it, he was into her too. She shook her head and placed a hand on her belly, quick to remove it before Steve got in next to her.
She had feelings for both of them.
What were the fucking odds?