Domestic Tranquility
Chapter 14
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers. They belong to Marvel/Disney.
Eileen stood on the porch, holding the door open for Steve and Phil as they hauled groceries into the house. Emily trailed after, carrying her own small load.
"Have fun?" Eileen asked as Phil traipsed by. He glared, she ignored it, following them into the kitchen, stopping to grab Steve's sketchbook on the weay.
She watched her son and Steve put away groceries, Emily helping by emptying the sacks. A nice little system they had worked out, but Steve needed his book back before Rachel had a chance to peek in it.
"You left this in the living room," Eileen said, handing him his sketchbook.
"Thanks," Rogers muttered, ignoring the scathing glance Coulson was giving him.
"You're a very talented artist," Eileen said. "Very imaginative."
Rogers blanched, but he wasn't looking at her. Coulson was giving him his best you've screwed up and we're going to talk about it later agent look. The one that scared Hill and Stark and made Fury speechless when he saw it.
Eileen saw the look on Phil's face, swatting him on the arm. "What is wrong with you?" she asked.
Then his phone was buzzing. "I have to take this," Coulson said, heading out on to the deck.
"Always working even when he's on vacation," Eileen said. "Does he ever relax?"
"Sometimes," Rogers said.
"Except your work never waits, does it?" Eileen said, stepping up, taking Phil's place putting things away. "You're both dedicated to your jobs, aren't you, and each other, right?'
"Very much so, ma'am," Rogers said.
"That's how you attained the rank of captain so young?" Eileen asked.
She noticed how Steve's breath hitched as she asked.
"Luck, dedication and hard work," he said.
"How long were you in the army?"
"Long enough," Rogers said.
"Where did you serve?" Eileen said.
"I can't really talk about that," he said.
"Special forces?"
"Something like that," Rogers said, wishing she'd just drop it.
"Gram, can we go to the library?" Emily asked, breaking into the conversation
"In a bit," Eileen said, her train of thought broken.
Rogers sighed in relief, using the break in her questioning to ask one of his own.
"Phil was wondering about his dad's old car," he said. "Sorry to change the subject, but he was talking about it the other day, and I don't think he had the nerve to ask you about it."
"Give me a minute," Eileen said, leaving the kitchen.
Rogers turned to Emily. "Em, I owe you," he said.
She shrugged. "Gram's nosy, but she means well," Emily said.
"Like your mom?"
"Yeah," Emily said. "But Gram's coming back."
Eileen returned a few moments later with two sets of keys and a piece of paper with an address on it, pressing all three items into Rogers' hands.
"The address is where the storage unit is," she said. "I don't know if you can get that thing running or not, but Phil's welcome to it. I should've given it to him a long time ago. Em, come on. Let's go."
Rogers waited until Coulson came back inside, stuffing his phone in his back pocket.
"Everything OK?" Rogers asked.
"For now," Coulson said.
"Anything I need to worry about?" Rogers said.
"No. Just settling something between Sitwell and Hill. She said he didn't turn in a report on time, but she's the one who misplaced it," Coulson said.
Rogers walked over, snatched Coulson's phone out of his pocket, picking up his own sketchbook. "I'll be back in a minute," he said, running upstairs, returning a few minutes later, throwing the keys to their rented Mustang at Coulson. "C'mon. There's something we have to go take care of."
"I need my phone," Coulson said.
"It's in my suitcase along with my sketchbook," Rogers said, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him out to the car. "The world, SHIELD, Stark, and everyone else can do without bothering you for an hour or two."
They got in, and Rogers handed Coulson the slip of paper with the address on it. "Go here," he said.
Fifteen minutes later, they were standing out side the storage unit, Coulson frowning at Rogers as he unlocked the door to the unit.
"What are we doing here?" Coulson asked, standing back as Rogers opened the door, dust kicking up, and staring into the pitch black space.
Rogers shoved him inside, pointing. "That's why we're here," he said.
Coulson's eyes widened when he saw what Rogers was pointing at—his father's Mustang.
"I asked your mom about it, and she gave me the keys and the address," Rogers said. "She said the car is yours if you want it."
An hour later, with a tow from Kelly, they had the fastback back at the house, sitting in the garage. Coulson had the hood propped open, tools out, pulling the spark plugs, putting new ones in, changing the wiring. Rogers was at the nearby work bench with Emily. Coulson turned around, watching Rogers work. He was drilling holes in an old trash can lid after first taking off the handle, making the appropriate fittings for straps.
"We'll have to get some paint for this," he said, holding the lid up for Coulson to see.
"I think there might be some craft paint in the house," Coulson said.
"Mom's gonna flip when she sees it," Emily said, grinning.
"It's definitely going to be a one of a kind work of art," Coulson said. "Em, help him find the paint. Doesn't your Gram still have all those craft supplies?"
"I have the red, white and blue in my room," Emily said. "I'll go get it."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Rogers asked, smiling at Coulson. "Will Rachel really flip when she sees the shield?"
"She'll definitely say something about it," Coulson said.
And he was right. Partly. After the paint was dry, he was sitting out on the deck, watching Rogers and Emily with the shield. Rachel looked out the back door. Steve had a trash can lid, and was trying to show Emily how to throw it.
"Mom, you have to see this," Rachel said. "Steve made Emily a Captain America shield."
Eileen looked out with her daughter, watching as Steve threw the shield, and it bounced off the fence.
"He's pretty good with that, isn't he?" Rachel said.
Eileen nodded, going out the back door. Emily grabbed the shield, running over to her grandmother.
"I'm going to hang it on my wall," Emily said. "Can I?"
She wasn't asking her mom. She was looking at her Gram when she said it.
"I don't have a problem with it," Eileen said. "Steve, it was very nice of you to do that for Emily."
"It was the least I could do," he said. "She does like Captain America."
"I know," Eileen said. "Can I talk to you inside for a minute?"
He followed her into the kitchen, leaving Rachel and Phil alone out on the deck, watching Emily running around the yard, vanquishing invisible enemies with her shield.
"Don't you think she's a little old for that?" Rachel said, pointing at the trash can lid turned shield.
"She's just a kid," Coulson said. "Let her enjoy it while she can."
"Everyone needs something, or someone to believe in," Coulson said. "Rachel, let her have that. I know it's old-fashioned, but. . ."
"She believes in you," Rachel said. "For some damned reason. You're her hero, and you come waltzing in here with him, and she's latched onto him, too."
"Jealous?"
"No. You're not the one who has to deal with her teachers, or the other kids. . ."
"There isn't a damn thing wrong with Emily," Coulson said, rounding on his sister.
"I know. It's the other morons," Rachel said. "She's so much like you it scares me."
"She's like you, too. Stubborn, too smart for her own good, devious," he said.
"Those are traits we both share," Rachel said. "Fine. She can have the damn shield, like you can have the Mustang. Just take care of it, will you?"
"I'll have to leave it here until I can make arrangements to get it home," Coulson said.
"Just make me this promise—I get to drive it once it's drivable, and you'll teach Em to drive in it."
"I promise," he said.
"I think that's one you can try and keep," Rachel said, putting an arm around her brother.
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Rogers fidgeted, leaning against the kitchen counter. Eileen was putting dishes away.
"You looked like you know what you were doing with that trash lid," she said.
"Just imitating what I've seen on TV, ma'am," he said.
"Like I believe that," Eileen said, turning to face him, hands on hips. "You weren't home-schooled, you're not a day over 22 or 23 if I'm any judge, much too young to have reached captain in this day and age, and though you hide it well, I know there are things you just do not understand. I don't know how, but you're him, aren't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rogers said.
"That sketchbook was the clincher," Eileen said. "That and the picture of Thor on Phil's phone. Son, do not lie to me. I know what you're hiding. You're Captain America."