Author's note: Yup, it's getting a little out of hand. I've still got the bones of the story firmly grasped, but the fluff of it is squeezing out between my fingers. I had originally attempted to make each chapter use up the dull parts first and finish with a crescendo, but all attempt at that kind of finesse is past. As a writing exercise for a bigger project of mine, it's fun, at least.
Tony Stark had incinerated her clothes and her shoes. All she had left was a clear plastic bag which included the autograph sketch Steve had made for her, a small folding knife, and a dollar and thirty-two cents in loose change. When she'd asked for her clothes, the nurse had brought her the bag and apologized to her for the clothing.
Estrella tried not to be angry at Tony because he'd given her such a wonderful gift in the choker necklace she now wore. She could have made more clothes for herself, but the necklace was unique. Her fingers came up to touch the butterfly at her throat once again. She didn't want to take it off because it made her feel safe. There had to be a way to repay Mister Stark for what he'd done for her, but she didn't know how, yet.
She stood in the bathroom of her recovery room in the medical ward. Natasha had lent her some clothes to wear, now that Doctor Kalfey had removed the IV line from her hand and she could get up and move around. She didn't mind borrowing things so much, but she'd have to pay Natasha back too, for the new bra and the package of plain cotton underwear.
Since her mind felt much clearer, she was sure she could keep a mental list of what she owed to whom. The problem was finding a way to make some money to pay people back. Natasha had suggested that she not worry about that for a day or two, so she was going to try to comply.
Estrella wanted to take a shower before putting on Natasha's borrowed clothes, but there was no lock on the bathroom door. The thought of anyone coming in while she changed made her put on the clothes in a hurry.
She was happy to get rid of the pale, flimsy hospital gown and put on the stretchy sport bra and the jeans and long-sleeved shirt. The clothes hung loose on her and she had to use the belt Nat had provided to keep the pants from sliding down past her hip bones. It wasn't as bulky and concealing as the clothes she made for herself, but it was so much better than the hospital gown that she felt safe and well-covered by comparison. She pulled on the hospital issued tan socks with the rubber lines on the bottom that she'd been wearing when she'd awakened in the medical ward two days ago.
When she returned to her room, she heard Steve's voice out in the hall, by the nurse's station. He didn't sound happy. She thought she heard Natasha's voice too. She went and stood by the door to listen to what they were arguing about.
"You're not in charge of her care, Nat. You can't make decisions like that. If she doesn't want her hair cut, you won't cut it," Steve's voice said strongly.
"No one needs to be in charge of her care. She's a grown woman and she made a deal," Natasha countered.
"Under duress! You were sitting on her!" Steve pointed out. He was getting more agitated, and Estrella didn't like to hear them fighting.
"Steve, give me some credit. I know not to sit on her," Natasha said.
They were speaking loud enough that Estrella didn't feel like she was snooping. Anyone in the medical ward would be able to hear them, and they were just outside her door.
"You're right. I'm sorry. It's just that Tony's already burned her stuff, and now you want to change the way she looks. It's too much too fast, and she's not being given any choice. You know damn well that you tricked her into it," Steve said.
His voice got a lot quieter right before he said the word 'damn.' Estrella smiled at how typically Steve that was. He'd never said the word in her presence, but maybe he talked that way among his teammates.
She touched her butterfly briefly before she opened her door. They were already looking toward the door before she had it opened enough to see them. From the way they both were dressed, it looked like they'd been in business meetings all morning. Steve waited to see what she had to say, his hands comfortably shoved into the pockets of his dark gray suit pants
"It's okay. She can shave my head. I'm gonna have to get a job anyway and I can't go to work looking like this," Estrella said. She looked up at what she could see of her hair, then at them. She stepped into the hallway and let the room door shut behind her.
Steve was smiling at her. It was the first time he'd heard her speak freely without her voice doing things to his head.
She didn't have to ask why he was smiling so big. It was clear that he was happy for her, and it felt good to have someone to share a happy moment with. There hadn't been anyone she could share things with for a very long time. It felt cozy to share her happiness with him. She tried not to smile in public, but she couldn't help it. Steve's joy for her was infectious.
"Alriiight. We like the voice. Moving on now. You know, Steve, you were part of the deal," Natasha said.
"I was?" he asked.
He was still smiling when he looked to Natasha. His eyes reluctantly dragged away from assessing Estrella. Why did Nat look so smug? That look on her always meant that she was proud of some accomplishment, usually something related to getting the best of her male teammates. He immediately became suspicious of what Estrella's hair-cutting deal had to do with him.
"You have to have your head shaved too," Estrella informed him.
She studied his head and his face, trying to imagine what he'd look like without his classic blonde hair which was so iconic of Captain America. It was getting too long, anyway.
"Wait a minute. No fair. I wasn't here to agree to any deal," Steve said, still in good humor.
"You were the one messing around in my life uninvited, telling Wanda to call the tower on me. If I have to change, then so do you," Estrella said.
It felt really good to be able to assert herself without the annoying whisper. She'd meant to be sharp with him, but every time she spoke, he looked at her and grinned.
"What?" she asked.
"You have an accent. It's slight, but-" Steve said. He was uncertain if pointing it out would offend her.
"I know. I'm stuck in the middle. Everyone used to assume I spoke Spanish. My granny spoke it, and my mother had a strong accent. She wanted me to blend in, so all I know is English, but when I open my mouth, this comes out," Estrella shrugged.
She knew her words had a slight Latino lilt, and she'd tried to moderate it, but there hadn't been much opportunity to practice. Steve seemed delighted by everything about the way she spoke, and she squinted at him suspiciously, wondering if her necklace wasn't completely working.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked him.
"Nothing. Can't I be happy?" Steve wondered.
He was still smiling, and it infected her again.
"Stop smiling. You look like an idiot," Estrella fussed, but she couldn't get her face to behave, either.
Natasha wanted to tease them about the way they were acting, but she didn't dare. If she mentioned anything at all about how the air felt thicker between the two of them, they'd probably get prickly and awkward and the moment would be ruined. She'd seen a few different smiles on Steve, but the goofy, companionable one was new.
She left them googling at each other in the hallway to go retrieve Clint's hair clippers from Estrella's room. She felt like doing a goofy victory dance, herself, but she kept it locked inside. If any of the guys quashed the potential she felt between Steve and Estrella with jokes and teasing, she'd make them piss blood.
They both looked to her when she came out with the clippers. She had to bite the inside of her cheek hard to not give herself away with the satisfaction she felt. Steve had followed her down to medical, ripping at her for how she'd been too forceful with Estrella on the video files he'd seen, but now he looked relaxed. The girl was good for him.
"Estrella, I convinced Doctor Kalfey to release you, but only by assuring her that you would be staying with me and that you would wear this monitor on your wrist," Natasha said.
Like before, she didn't give Estrella time to argue about it. She took her by the hand and pushed up the slouchy purple shirt sleeve.
"What does it do?" Estrella asked.
The monitor was made of that white fibrous paper which wouldn't tear. There was a silvery metal strip down the middle of it. Natasha fit it comfortably snug around her skin and pulled off the paper tab which protected the adhesive. In less than half a minute, the wrist monitor was on, and she barely felt it.
"It sends a signal to the nurse's station so they can monitor your heart," Natasha explained.
Doctor Kalfey had come to see her this morning. Estrella already knew she had heart problems, so what the doctor had told her wasn't any surprise. They wanted her to eat a certain diet they'd come up with for her, too. She'd had a shake for breakfast and a cup of beef broth for lunch. She couldn't finish more than half of what the nurse brought her before she felt stuffed. She would eat a little to make them happy, but as soon as she was out of here, she could do what she wanted.
The three of them walked toward the elevator. Estrella thought it was strange that the medical ward was empty. Not even a nurse was in sight. She'd been the only patient. As soon as Doctor Kalfey had discharged her, the place cleared out.
Natasha walked on Estrella's right, and Steve was on Natasha's right. Nat was hardly taller than her, but Steve's height and bulk kept making her startle. In a crowd on the streets, being near him hadn't bothered her. When he was sitting and talking to her or reading near her, like in her hospital room or at the library, his personality and his wit distracted her from the fact that he was a large man.
She was feeling better than she had in a long time and she could walk faster without the encumbrance of her floppy shoes. The only times she and Steve had walked anywhere together, he'd moved slowly to match her. Today his size, his athletic stride and the emptiness of the medical ward kept telling her that she was in danger.
Natasha and Steve were both looking at her when she glanced at them. They shared a quick look between the two of them as they all three reached the elevator. Their silent communication spoke of long hours working together, making quick decisions with few words. Estrella felt like an outsider. They were strong and rich and smart. What was she doing here with them? Why did they want her here?
The elevator door opened for them without any buttons being pushed. Steve and Natasha got in it. Estrella's feet seemed to stick to the floor in the hall. She couldn't make herself go in. She wanted to, but… she couldn't. He was too big and the elevator was a closed space, and there was only Natasha with them.
This time she saw them make a decision together without so much as looking at each other. Steve released a breath which wasn't even a sigh and Natasha stepped out of the elevator again.
"Steve, you go on and we'll catch up with you later," Nat said.
Estrella got the impression that the words hadn't been necessary and had only been for her benefit.
"Sure. See ya," he said to Estrella in his typical manner, but his brow looked slightly troubled.
She felt stinging at her eyelids and her throat felt tight. She couldn't say anything, so she nodded as the elevator door closed.
"I know you didn't mean to, but you hurt his feelings," Natasha said after giving Estrella a moment to get herself under control.
Estrella nodded.
"Don't worry. He understands. He just wasn't expecting it," Nat said kindly.
"I wasn't either," Estrella said, low and sad.
The elevator was gone for only a minute, then it opened again for them. It was empty.
She had no trouble getting in it with Natasha.
"Where are we going?" Estrella asked.
"To my suite. To do your hair. We won't see anyone on the way. Jarvis is good like that," Natasha said.
They got out of the elevator in a nice, public-looking lobby which had three other elevators in it. Estrella followed Natasha directly across to the one with the door open waiting for them.
"Thank you, Jarvis," Estrella said.
"You're welcome, Miss," Jarvis replied.
Again, Natasha didn't press any buttons. In fact, there were no buttons. There was a rectangle in the brass wall panel where the buttons would have been, but the panel was smooth and blank. It was a walk-through elevator with doors on the other end, but there were no buttons over there either.
"How do people use this elevator?" Estrella asked.
"They don't. This is the only way to the Avengers' living quarters. No one gets in without Jarvis," Natasha told her.
"But what about power failures?" Estrella wondered.
"If there's ever a power failure, we've got much larger problems than the elevators," Natasha said dryly.
Estrella didn't know what that meant, but it sounded like there probably wouldn't be a problem with the elevators.
The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened to a much smaller lobby. A residential foyer, really. It was mid-afternoon and the glass wall at the end of the hall between the two suites let in bright daylight. Estrella wanted to go and look out because it seemed that they were really high up, but she followed Natasha to the suite on the left.
Natasha's place was comfortable and modern, in warm jewel and earth tones. The floors were dark wood and the kitchen was done in gray stone and bronze. There were a few décor touches, but there were no homey personal items lying around. The large living room had another wall of windows and Estrella went straight to look at the view. She stepped right up to the glass, then stepped back again.
"What floor are we on?" Estrella asked. She'd never been high up like this. The city spread out below her, and other tall buildings which she was accustomed to looking up at were down below her.
"Low nineties. Steve and Clint have the suites on the other side of the wall from us," Nat told her.
Her evasion of answering the question more precisely told Estrella that she was asking for more information than people were allowed to know.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry," Estrella said.
Natasha only smiled at her slightly.
Ooo! These people were so much in their heads. No wonder Steve had been able to hold conversations with her when she wasn't even talking. It was like they had telepathy or something.
"Are you guys telepathic? Because you don't even talk," Estrella said.
Natasha only curved her lips a little bit more and held up the hair clippers.
Estrella blew out a sigh. Was the woman playing with her?
Natasha and the clippers went into another room down the hall, so Estrella followed. It was an amazing bathroom, done in honey-colored marble. There was a large window here, too, right beside and over the huge soaker tub. An open shower boasted a dark wood bench and several water nozzles. There was a wide mirror over the countertop and Estrella saw herself in it. She looked like what she was.
"I don't belong here," she said.
"Lots of people would like to have access to what you do right now. But they can't get in. How did you get here?" Natasha asked.
She plugged in the clippers and sat on an upholstered bench with carved legs and feet. She held the silent clippers and waited for Estrella.
"Steve brought me here," Estrella answered. She was still mad at him for that. A little.
"This is Avengers tower. Do you know who leads the Avengers?"
"Tony Stark?" Estrella guessed.
"No. Steve does. He wants you here. That means you belong," Natasha said.
Nat's words made sense to her in the technical way, but she still felt out of place. Her house was a tin roof by a dumpster with a bed of carpet scraps, none of which she really owned. Everything she had was given to her or scavenged.
This was probably the most advanced building in the world, with all the security and with Jarvis, and all the nice things. There was even a jet and a landing pad. No, she didn't belong here, no matter what Natasha said or Steve did. She was the daughter of immigrants who had owned nothing, themselves. She still was nothing, even if they pitied her and gave her gifts. Especially then.
Estrella felt a surreal detachment from the moment she was living in. This was like a dream. She didn't know if it was a bad one, or a good one, or simply a weird one.
Nat patted the bench beside her. Estrella went and sat. She wasn't going to miss her matted hair. The only reason she didn't want to lose it was in case she needed it again so she could be repulsive. Natasha pushed her gently down across her lap and switched on the clippers. There was a waste bin on the floor at the end of the bench.
The clippers bit into the hair at her scalp, first in the back, then they worked around her hair line. Natasha worked patiently around and around. It pulled sometimes and the clippers grew hot against her skin. Estrella didn't complain about the hot metal or the pulling. It was so strange to feel cool air on her scalp.
"Your hair is already growing in black. You'll look cute in no time," Natasha said.
Nat worked the clippers at the top of her head, and then a wig of matted, orange-ish blonde hair fell into the waste bin. It made Estrella queasy to look at it, it was so ugly. She sat up quickly and stood to go look in the mirror.
With the ugly mats gone, the shape of her head wasn't bad. She looked like bones, but her eyes were large and brown and a short fuzz of black hair ghosted her scalp. It already made her uneasy that her cheekbones, jaw and lips were pretty and feminine without the horrible hair to draw attention away from them.
"I look like a skeleton," Estrella said critically.
"Almost," Natasha agreed.
Natasha set the clippers down and moved to start the water in the bath. When the tub was stoppered and she'd poured scented bubbles into the water, she came to stand behind Estrella at the mirror.
"Your skin is irritated where your hair was. I've got some good lotion for that. For now, get in the tub. Take your time and relax. I'll be in the living room if you need me," Nat said.
She took a plush bath towel from a cabinet and set it by the tub. Then she left Estrella alone.
Estrella didn't linger in Natasha's bathroom like she owned the place. She took off her necklace in case the water would hurt it, and she got clean quickly. She hadn't shaved in years. Nat had put a new razor out for her, so she used it on her legs and under her arms.
The whole time she bathed, her nose enjoyed the wonderful, subtle scent of the pink bar of soap she was using. The soap felt fatty and luxurious. It left her skin feeling moisturized and soft.
When she was done, she felt so smooth and strange. She cleaned out the tub with supplies she found under the sink, then rinsed the tub so it was as clean as new.
Natasha must have heard that she was done, because she knocked once, then came in with another set of clothes. Estrella stood wrapped in the towel, holding her necklace.
"I've already got clothes," Estrella said, indicating the borrowed clothes she'd taken off.
"They didn't suit you. Try this," Nat said. She handed Estrella a folded stack of clothes and put her necklace on for her while her hands were full.
"Thank you, Natasha," Estrella said quietly, for more than just putting her necklace on.
"Don't thank me yet. Remember, we don't know what the future holds," Natasha replied.
Estrella didn't know what to say to that, so she didn't say anything.
"Where are we going now?" Estrella asked as they got in the elevator again.
She was happy in the long, full skirt that Natasha had lent her. It was dark brown and it partly hid how hideously slim she was. She had a dark red tunic top with a wide elastic belt. The top would have felt too thin and revealing, but Nat had paired it with a suede vest that covered her up well enough.
"Jarvis, where is Captain Rogers?" Natasha asked.
"You will find him in the common room," Jarvis replied.
Estrella wanted to ask where that was, but she decided to wait and see.
"Pause, Jarvis," Natasha said soon as the doors were closed, but before the box started moving.
Estrella looked to Nat. All the silence was making her nervous. She was accustomed to silence when she was by herself, but to be around such a vibrant person as Natasha yet have most of the moments filled with silence was getting to her.
"Estrella, we're the only women here. Thor left yesterday, and Clint is out working, but you might see Bruce, Tony, or Sam. We're going to get Steve with these," Natasha held up the clippers, which she had brushed clean.
"Okay," Estrella said. She rubbed at the sore spot where the IV had gone into her hand. The small bandage was something to look at while Nat watched her.
"They aren't like regular men on the street. Thor is way over the top, and the rest of them aren't much better sometimes. There's a lot of testosterone flowing around here, and I've never wanted them to leash it. If you feel uncomfortable, go to the elevator and Jarvis will take you to my suite, no questions asked. The guys don't go to my suite at all, so you can retreat there if you need to. Do you think you can handle this?" Natasha asked.
Estrella shrugged. She really didn't know. She'd surprised herself with her inability to get into the elevator with Steve earlier.
"Fair enough. I'm not going to protect you. I won't need to because they're good guys. Tony is a pest, but he means well. Try to be brave, because you'll have to get used to being around men in small spaces sooner or later," Natasha said.
Estrella nodded. Now she really felt nervous because she expected to have to walk into a room full of men.
"Go, Jarvis," Nat said.
A very short moment later, the elevator doors opened into a dim hallway, but there was a large, day lit room to the right. Natasha led out of the elevator, clippers in hand. Estrella followed hesitantly.
From the hallway, the room opened wide. It was a multi-level space of glass and metal, with stylish leather furniture and architectural masonry walls. The floor was glossy stained concrete, and a deep, white furry rug floored the seating area in the middle. A man sat with his back to the hallway, his arm up along the back of a couch. Steve sat on the other couch across from him.
"It's Delilah, Steve. Maybe you should run," the man said with a warm smile. He looked at the women over his shoulder, but he didn't get up until Estrella followed Nat around the couch to face the men.
"Ain't scared," Steve denied. Estrella noted that he'd changed into casual khakis and a V-neck green t-shirt.
"Hi, I'm Bruce," the man she didn't know said. He stood to greet Estrella. He held out his hand in greeting, and Estrella forced herself to reach out and touch it. He adapted his gesture to merely touch her fingers and his friendly smile stayed in place.
"You helped with this. Thank you," Estrella whispered. She touched her fingers to her necklace.
"You're welcome. I'm glad we could help. Doesn't it work?" Bruce asked.
"Maybe she doesn't feel like talking right now," Steve said. He got up and came over to look at Estrella's head.
"I always did like the look of a fresh buzz," Steve made a curious face and leaned forward and down slightly to sniff at her head, "Smells good too."
"Do you want ylang-ylang lotion rubbed on your head? Because I can go get it," Natasha offered.
Bruce smiled at Steve while Steve made an attempt at shaping the repetitive word with his mouth. His brow crinkled with amused uncertainty.
"No, not at all. I've got to see this," Tony's voice insisted as he walked out of the elevator in the hall.
"It's just a haircut," Sam said, getting out behind him.
The two men entered the room. Sam hung back, then went to the kitchen. Tony walked right up to Estrella and looked her over.
"No more Auschwitz vibe. You've got more of a, uh-" Tony waved a hand at her, then fell silent at the steely look Steve was giving him over Estrella's head.
"Tony," He said to Estrella instead.
He was still looking at her intently. He was in an old t-shirt so faded that she couldn't make out what the print on the front once had been. His black jeans had stains on the knees, and his hair was spikey and disarrayed. This was definitely not the Tony Stark she'd seen on television at gala events or in the Iron Man suit. But it was Tony Stark. There was no mistaking his handsome face and his attitude.
Estrella ignored the Auschwitz comment and smiled at him.
"Thank you for my necklace," she said shyly.
Tony had looked eager when she'd opened her mouth to speak, then slightly disappointed when her voice did nothing to him. Bruce shook his head in disgust and sat back down on the couch.
"It's nothing. So, Goldilocks, get on with the show," Tony quickly turned his attention to Steve and Natasha. He rubbed his hands together and sprawled back in the leather chair at the end of the couches.
Estrella felt relief that the bright laser of his attention was no longer aimed in her direction. Sam drifted to her side with a beer in his hand. His posture was so relaxed that she felt no anxiety at his approach.
"Hi, I'm Sam. The sane, normal one around here," he said. He stood a comfortable distance away and simply smiled at her without offering his hand to shake.
"Are you sure? Because I saw you flying all around getting shot at near those creepy hover ships," Estrella said.
"Ooooh," Steve winced, then grinned at her proudly.
Steve turned away to walk over to the chair Nat had pulled closer to an electrical outlet, but he was still smiling faintly when he sat and pulled his shirt off. He leaned forward over the concrete floor and braced his elbows on his knees. He wadded his shirt in one hand and waited for Nat to begin.
"Do you want to do this?" Natasha offered Estrella the clippers.
Estrella looked at all of Steve's bare skin and the amazing display of muscles which he was so casual about baring. She shook her head and stayed where she was. She was more comfortable with her familiar version of him. The one that wore clothes and spent time on the street with her. This fancy place, these smooth, confident people, were making her feel out of sorts. It was dream-like again.
"Want to help me make some drinks in the kitchen? We can do that instead, if you don't want to watch buns-n-thighs over there," Sam offered.
She didn't know why he was talking to her, a stranger, but his demeanor was nothing but kindness. She didn't want to make things in the kitchen, and it wasn't because she disliked Sam. Her eyes went back to looking at Steve and how he stayed bent patiently so Nat could move around him. Steve was so much bigger, but Natasha didn't fear him at all. She pulled his ear and laughed when he said 'ow' and frowned at her.
"Moth to the flame," Tony commented. He was watching Estrella watching Steve.
Estrella glanced at him, confused. Had he been talking to her? When he said nothing more, she returned to watching Steve and Natasha. The first lock of hair came off Steve's head. It sat on the back of his neck until Nat brushed it onto the floor.
"Tony," Bruce admonished him quietly.
Tony and Bruce's words sounded like nothing she needed to get involved in, so Estrella let herself drift across the furry rug. She vaguely noticed that it looked like real fur. Her borrowed sandals brushed through the thick hairs until she was off the other side of the rug and not far away from where Steve's look was quickly changing.
He looked up at her with his eyes though he didn't lift his head for fear of disturbing Nat's work. Estrella squatted down in front of him to better be able to see how he was changing with each swipe of the clippers. Natasha moved from his side, around his front between them, then over to his other side. Estrella stayed several feet away, leaving Natasha plenty of room to move.
"I don't think I like it," Estrella said.
She wasn't sure. His hair was darker underneath, cut so close to his scalp. She'd wondered if he would look bald because his hair was light like his skin, but the darker hair color against his skin made him look more serious. Severe. He had a nice shaped head, intelligent and refined looking.
"It'll grow back," Steve said. He looked at her hair too.
He was trying not to make her uncomfortable by staring, but his eyes kept going back to her. His fingers twitched, and he squeezed his t-shirt more tightly. Gosh, she had great lines. He changed his mind. He did want to draw her. She was really thin, and he didn't like what that meant for her health, but from an artist's perspective, she was technically interesting. He felt like a cad for thinking so coldly of it, but sometimes the things he drew weren't easy to think about or look at.
Why was Steve looking at her like that? She would have said he was studying her like she was a bug, but he had lingering hints of happiness around his eyes and mouth. He looked eager for something, like a kid waiting for a treat.
"What do you want?" she whispered to him. Being engaged with his thoughts and his facial expression helped her lose her uneasiness of his size and shirtlessness. She slid her feet forward until she was just a few feet from him so he wouldn't have to speak loudly.
"I want my sketchbook. And I want to go somewhere else. Somewhere with good light and not so many people," he near-whispered back at her.
"You want to draw me? I look like a scarecrow," Estrella said.
"Scarecrows can be interesting," Steve said.
Natasha smacked him hard on the back of the head. His head didn't move, but tiny filaments of cut hair poofed into the air to settle onto his shoulders.
"What?" Steve asked.
He turned his head to complain at Natasha, but she threatened his eyebrow with the clippers, so he drew his face back.
"You're an idiot, Steve Rogers," Natasha told him when he couldn't seem to figure out why she'd smacked him.
"She thinks you shouldn't have agreed with me when I said I look like a scarecrow. But I don't care. It's true," Estrella shrugged.
"No. Scarecrows are rough and gawky. Your lines are better. I like the way they flow, and the angles," Steve said.
He was looking at her again, like before. She could see his fingers try to move against the shirt. He really wanted to put her in his sketchbook with Bucky. Again, Estrella didn't feel worthy. Bucky was something special, even if he was an uncaring asshole. Bucky meant something to him.
"Are we done yet?" Steve asked Natasha.
"I don't know. Stand up," Nat told him.
Steve stood and Natasha moved around him, turning him so she could use the light from the window wall to look for any hairs she'd missed. She turned the clippers back on and touched up a few spots. Steve bent and moved how she wanted him to. Estrella got up carefully and stepped away. There was too much skin.
Steve shook his head like a dog, and brushed his fingers briskly over his prickly-shorn head. Natasha used his shirt to slap cut hair off his shoulders. Then, she turned the clippers back on and made a swipe at his side near his armpit.
"Ow. What was that for?" Steve asked.
"The stitches. You missed one when you were taking them out," Nat said. She had used the clipper blades to snip the string, then to tug it free from his skin.
Steve nodded and snapped out his shirt sharply a few times. He pulled it on over his head, then worked his arms and shoulders into it and tugged it down. Estrella wondered how watching him put on a shirt was nearly as uncomfortable as watching him take it off had been.
"If you wait here, I'll go get my sketchbook. Or, uh, you could go on down and I'll join you in the lobby. We could go to the coffee shop," Steve suggested hopefully.
The idea sounded wonderful to Estrella, but…
"Don't you want to see what you look like?" she asked him. He looked very different. She hadn't expected how much he would change. Natasha was putting away the clippers, but she was looking at him smugly, too. She thought the short buzz looked good on him.
"Nah. I know what I look like," Steve said.
"No, you need to see. People are going to stare some more and you need to see why," Estrella said.
She looked around for a door that could be a bathroom with a mirror. Natasha pointed her to the mirror behind the bar instead. She nodded her thanks to Nat and grabbed Steve's hand. She tugged him over to the mirror and made him look.
A sparkle caught her eyes and she looked further down the mirror to her own reflection. In the golden light behind the bar, her necklace's reflection was winking at her. She leaned closer too, and really looked at it for the first time.
"What is…?" she asked absently.
Then she was pulling the necklace from her throat. It tugged, then her fingers worked the clasp successfully. Steve distracted her by pressing a finger to her lips briefly as she put the butterfly in good light to look at it.
Soon as she realized she'd taken the necklace off in a room of four men, including Bruce, she froze still. Steve saw her realization and crossed his arms patiently. He pressed a finger to his own lips to remind her while she looked at the necklace.
It was too sparkly, too lustrous. Heavy. She turned it over and tugged some slack in the velvet choker band until she could see the silvery metal of the back side. There. There were stamp marks in the metal. She moved it closer to her face, but she didn't have a magnification lens.
Steve took it from her and read the markings out loud.
Estrella gasped. Steve quickly reached to press a finger to her lips again.
He didn't know why, but she was angry. Very angry. She took the necklace from him and put it back on.
Quick as she could stomp with any dignity, she went over to Tony.
"Are you crazy?! I can't take this! It's as expensive as, like, a car! Or a house!" Estrella exclaimed while she stood in front of Tony.
"Not as expensive as any house or car I would have. So, there," Tony said as if that settled it.
"I can never repay this! I can't take it," Estrella said. She started taking off the necklace again. In her hurry, her fingers fumbled. She couldn't get it, and her hands were trembling.
She felt heat along her back, and large fingers touched her nape, brushing her ineffective hands away. It was Steve, trying to help her. A large man at her back, and Tony Stark sprawled, smirking, in front of her.
She gulped in a breath and tried to hold it, but then let it out in a whine. Tony looked down at his phone at the same time that Jarvis and Sam spoke.
"Sir, if you would-"
"Hey, Tony, come over here," Sam said from the kitchen.
"Steve, give her some space," Natasha said.
"I'm just gonna go," Bruce said quietly.
Bruce got up to leave, but as soon as Steve stepped away, Estrella ran to the elevator. She got in it and was gone as quick as Jarvis could get her away. Steve stepped to follow her, but Nat got in front of him and pressed her hands to his chest.
"Nat, she's upset," Steve said. He leaned forward into her hands, just to have something solid to press against.
"And you would make it worse," Tony said, "Jarvis, when should we be concerned about what her heart is doing?"
"I am already concerned. If she doesn't start to calm in twenty seconds, I'll bring Doctor Kalfey," Jarvis told them.
Tony watched his phone and the little fluttering blips that were being transmitted from her wrist monitor. They watched as his lips silently counted down.
"I can't visually determine, Jarvis," Tony said.
"She is calming slightly, but this upset will keep her heart rhythm irregular for several minutes, possibly up to an hour. I will observe her," Jarvis said.
Steve squeezed his eyes closed and breathed through his mouth. Nat watched his heart thump at the vein in his throat. He was very worried about Estrella.
"We shouldn't have taken her from medical," he murmured.
"Keeping her trapped there alone would have upset her, too," Natasha attempted to soothe him.
"Steve, you should-" Bruce began.
"No, Bruce. I'm not doing that to her," Steve denied.
"I know there have been a lot of failures and twisted outcomes, but Bruce and I have had plenty of time to work on-" Tony said in a sensible tone which he hoped Steve might listen to.
"I said no," Steve enunciated firmly.
"I should go to her," Natasha said.
"No. Give her some quiet. This has been too much and she's overwhelmed. Jarvis, where is she? What's she doing?" Steve asked.
"Miss is in the guest room assigned to her in Miss Romanova's suite. She has removed the device and is sitting in the corner, facing the door. Should I attempt to speak to her?" Jarvis asked.
"Tell her I said that I'm an idiot and I'm sorry. That I'll try real hard not to crowd her like that again," Steve said.
"Very well," Jarvis said.
"Tell her I need help in the data entry department. If she wants the job, we can work out payment arrangements from her salary," Tony said.
Tony cursed under his breath, then stood up to go fix himself a drink at the bar.
"Why can't she just accept a gift? I was happy to make it for her. I blow more cash on a house party and I don't lose any sleep over it," Tony clunked down the decanter, replaced its stopper, and tossed the scotch back.
"She's not like you, Tony. Resources matter to her. In her life, everything is judged by whether she can afford it. Or by whether any action would put her into debt to someone which she would then be expected to repay with her body. She can't accept something so expensive as if it was a thrift store trinket. She feels like you're buying her. Like a slave," Nat said.
Tony was silent. He poured himself another drink.
"Guys, you're the best. I know you want to help. But it's too much," Nat told them.
"So I should have paper clipped the modulator to a plastic My Little Pony necklace from Walgreen's?" Tony said sarcastically.
"That would have been better," Nat agreed. Steve was relaxing into strategy mode instead of action mode, so she eased the resistance of her arms from him and he stepped back.
"I have to fix this," Steve said.
"Jarvis, tell her that if she gives the necklace to Nat, I can re-do it myself. Tony can return the butterfly and she won't owe him except for the time he spent on the modulator. Tony, what's the labor charge?" Steve asked.
"How long did we spend on it?" Tony looked to Bruce.
"Two and a half hours, mostly waiting for the courier," Bruce answered.
"So, a half hour of our time, Bruce and I. That works out to just about as much as the butterfly is worth. But she doesn't know that. Tell her three hundred dollars. That should keep her around here long enough for us to convince you to let us fix up her heart, Cap," Tony said.
Steve knew that Tony was feeling snippy with him when he called him Cap while they were off-duty.
"That is an entirely different issue. Detach and reevaluate," Steve ordered. If Tony was going to talk to Cap, then he'd get the Cap.
"Two ninety-five, or nothing. I'd rather the nothing," Tony said. Bruce nodded. The girl should be charging Tony for the fun he'd been having while they were making her necklace.
"Sir, Miss says she will accept the data entry position, but only if you pay her in cash and bill her medical care to Captain Rogers," Jarvis responded.
"She's angry and she wants to punish me for bringing her into this," Steve said.
He was smiling. They all knew that self-sacrifice was one of his favorite pastimes.
"How is her heart, Jarvis?" Steve asked.
"She is calming, but continuing irregularities can be expected," Jarvis told them.
The elevator opened in the hallway. Natasha went to see why, because nobody had stepped out. Estrella's necklace was lying on the floor of the elevator. She brought it to Steve.
"Can you get the working part off of this and reattach it to copper?" Steve asked Bruce.
"Sure. In about five minutes," Bruce said.
He'd never worked with copper, but he'd worked with cutting torches in the field many times. Artistic intuition guided him, and he used the most basic of Tony's shop tools.
Peggy had been the keeper of his old mementos. The first time he'd visited her, her mind had been more solid than it was now. She'd called a niece and had two boxes delivered to him. Among the things in the boxes was an old cap gun, toy bandolier straps, and a little copper sheriff's badge that he'd spent hours playing with when he was a kid.
Steve hammered out the copper badge. When he judged that it was the right size, he used a pair of metal snips and took his time cutting and rounding the shape of a butterfly. He liked the shape because it was a metaphor of what he wanted to see happen to his friend. What he hoped he would see, anyway. The end result was up to her.
He used awls and screwdrivers, punches and any odd shaped tool he could find to embellish the butterfly's wings. To the back, he added the flat eyelet which would rest against her throat and to which Bruce would attach the small, flat frequency modulator device which Tony had made. Steve filed it smooth and beat the butterfly shape until it matched the degree of curvature his artist's eye remembered seeing at the hollow of her throat. Then he used the torch to smooth the file marks and burnish the rough cut edges to a beaded finish which felt nice to his sensitive skin. He very much liked the rainbow hues the torch had made on the metal, and the bright and brown tones of the copper itself.
Bruce showed him where the special lacquer was that Tony used to coat the paint of his Iron Man suits. Steve applied a coat of it to keep the copper from dulling and losing its bright colors. Next, Bruce took a turn attaching the modulator to the back and he smoothed the metal to Steve's satisfaction. He re-checked its function with Jarvis' help to make sure that the transfer hadn't harmed it.
Lastly, Steve got his recently decommissioned uniform jacket which had been damaged beyond repair on his last mission. The dusty deep blue color would contrast the copper of the butterfly nicely. He cut an already tattered strip from where the jacket had been shredded against his side by the concrete chips. He'd put it through the wash in his suite, so at least the blood stains didn't show on the front of the remade choker necklace. He couldn't think of how to clasp the choker shut without using anything fancy or store bought, so he used one of his old Boy Scout slip knots. He could teach her how to tie it.
Steve held the finished device in his hand under the work light he'd been using. It wasn't nearly as intricate as he felt her personality could be, and it wasn't as rough as her life had been, but it was colorful, useful, and it had history. And it hadn't cost him a dime. Just a little time to create it, which he had thoroughly enjoyed