Note: Things are going to get a little worse for Steve before they get better. These next few chapters might be out of character for him because he is out of character because of what is happening to him.
Warning! This chapter contains a very brief bit of slashiness (M/M), but it's not graphic, and slash does not become a permanent feature of this story.
Sunlight filtered through his window. He fought against waking up because it was a good dream and he didn't want it to stop. There was a woman. It didn't matter who she was. She wanted him. She was strong and sturdy, so he held her hips in a hard grasp and bucked into her vigorously. While his mind rose toward consciousness his dream morphed into semi-waking fantasy.
He was so close, but without the fleeing dream to guide his involuntary mind his body retreated from the edge. Steve hurried to grip himself and finish, but his shorts got in the way. Frustration pinched his brow. He ripped the shorts down and away. The woman in the dream had felt so good, but it was fading fast. He was sore with want, like a bruise or a jammed knuckle. When it came, there was pain with the pleasure.
Steve grit his teeth and growled through it. Hot wetness stained his sheets and his skin. It wasn't enough. The pressure didn't ease up at all. The dream was gone, so there was no point in keeping his eyes closed anymore.
He sat up and found the torn shorts. A few quick swipes got rid of most of the mess, and he let the torn rag fall to the sheets. He was going to have to wash them, anyway. He couldn't leave this for Estrella to deal with.
He wondered why the windows were letting in light. Steve kept them darkened, except for the rare times when he didn't. The tint should still be active. His alarm should have got him up, not the pre-dawn light.
It didn't matter.
He looked down at the throbbing problem in his lap. It wasn't going away. At all. He was supposed to wait until this evening for his date with Rosie, but it wasn't going to wait. Steve rolled over and opened his night stand drawer. It was difficult to be patient enough to carefully take his toy out of its packaging. Like with his shorts, he wanted to tear through obstacles and get to what he wanted immediately. It felt like heroic patience to take the time to get everything ready. The toy was cold. The lube was cold. He didn't care.
"Uungh," he grunted.
The first push was always great, but he didn't slow down and savor anything. The tight ache in his groin left him with no grace, no dignity. The plastic case of the toy in his hand felt alien and chilly, but the slick sensations inside it accomplished what it was intended to do. In only a few more minutes, he was coming again. It still wasn't enough. Better, but not enough. Not done.
He didn't bother stopping to clean up. Twice more, he tried for relief. He would have gone again, but his phone buzzed at him from the night stand.
She hadn't said anything at all this time, but they were after her. It was easy to hear their lewd calling and their footsteps. She never should have tried to walk home from church at night like this, but it was too late to go back and change the bad decision. Maybe she shouldn't wear her old dress anymore. It was too tight here and there, but it was the nicest one she had with no holes or stains.
She didn't want to hear the awful things they called her, but the names kept coming. She ran around the corner of the adobe building. Her eyes searched ahead for a good place to hide. There was just enough light from the streetlight to show her that there was no good place. There was only a little tree growing out of a metal ring in the sidewalk. Maybe it was big enough to climb. Maybe if she could get up to the second story window of the apartment building, somebody would have mercy on her and let her inside, away from the men.
Estrella ran to the little street tree and quickly pulled up the back hem of her dress and tucked it into her belt at the front. A fearful glance over her shoulder showed her that the men were around the corner now, closer and within sight. She jumped up to grab the lowest limb of the tree and missed it. She jumped again and caught it. Her smooth bottomed church shoes slipped against the bark as she tried to climb up, but she eventually got it.
As she clambered up the branches, the men came to stand under the little tree. They taunted her with nasty words in Spanish. Words that she wished she didn't know the meaning of. One of the younger men leapt to grab at the lowest limb of the tree. He missed, but his grip wiggled the tree. Estrella whimpered in fear and went out as far as she could in the branches. She wasn't going to make it to the window. The branches were too thin.
When the men heard her voice as she whimpered, they stopped taunting and calling at her to come down. She looked down to see them only a little below her. Their faces had turned animalistic and determined. Any show of false humor was gone. They were ugly and they wanted her. She counted nine of them, but it didn't matter. The window she had hoped to reach was five feet away. The window ledge was thin. If she jumped, she might miss. Then, she would be down among the men.
The tree wiggled again. They were Indian men, Maya. Short and burly. They weren't as tall as her, but they were very strong. If they could get a grip on the tree, they could pull it down, and her with it. Estrella started to cry.
She didn't want to cry, because when she cried, she couldn't help but make little noises with her voice. She was so scared, there was no way not to cry. The light went on in the apartment window she had hoped to get to. She sobbed and clung to the springy little limbs. The curtains opened and the tree wiggled again. There was a man inside the window, and a woman and a child. Men beneath her, grunting and breathing, reaching for her shoes.
"No no no no," she whined.
But the man in the window didn't listen. He opened the window, maybe to help her, maybe to yell at the men, or maybe just to watch the spectacle. The woman and the little child looked on, too.
The tree shuddered. Estrella shrieked.
The man inside the apartment clawed at his ears and fell onto his knees. His face banged into the window sill and blood spurted from his nose. The men on the sidewalk beneath her yelled and staggered, but they didn't give up for long. They'd already heard her voice while she was crying, and they were dumb with want.
Estrella wished she hadn't climbed the tree. She wished she'd stood still on the sidewalk and let the men do whatever they wanted, where the woman and the child couldn't see. Dread made her nauseous. She looked at the woman and child, pleading.
"Go away. Go away from the window. Take your husband. I'm sorry," she said to them over the sound of the angry, determined men.
She knew her voice would make it worse, but she had to try to save the woman and the child. They shouldn't have to see. They should close the window and run away. The woman was trying to pull her husband away, but he surged forward, toward Estrella's voice. He was half out the second story window, reaching.
The tree shook again and Estrella screamed in fear, in denial that a pleasant evening could turn into this. She looked away from the family at the window when she heard a pained grunt from below.
The men had knives. At least, some of them did. They cut at each other in their anger and lust and pain, still trying to climb. Some were stabbing, some were pushing at the tree, and some were climbing up the backs of others, trying to get at her by any means.
"Go away! Just go away!" Estrella screamed at them loud as she could.
The man in the window fell back, and his wife pulled at him while the little girl cried in fear and confusion. Two men below stabbed at the others like mindless animals. One lay dying in a spreading glaze of blood. The tree was shaking, leaning more and more. A man was in the tree with her, his eyes brutal and ugly. His knife was clenched in his teeth and his hands were wet and red.
Estrella gave up screaming and crying. It was happening again and she didn't want to remember. Police sirens were coming from a long distance away, but they wouldn't be in time. They never were. All they ever had was papers and questions. Never any help. Not in time.
A strong, sticky hand closed around her arm. She went with it without much resistance. One man was better than falling. Better than falling into the stabbing, grunting death down below. Before she faded away into her mind, she noticed the gang colors, the tattoos. That was important. She would need to stay away from them, after, if she lived. Maybe this time, she wouldn't, and it would be over with. No more need to run.
"Wake up…" The ugly man said to her in a woman's voice.
"Estrella, wake up!" Natasha ordered her.
Strong hands shook her. She was pulled upright and Natasha rubbed firmly at her back.
Estrella gasped and struggled. The nightmare faded, but she was left with the feeling of wanting to get away. She smelled Natasha's familiar shampoo and red hair tangled in her eyelashes. Estrella crossed her arms over her chest to protect herself, still running on old habits. Her breasts were small, not large and jiggly. It was a relief. Her bones still felt sharp inside her skin.
"I'm awake," she mumbled.
Soon as she remembered it existed, she reached for her necklace on the bedside table. Natasha got it and put it on for her. The immediate terror of the dream was gone, but she was left with an awful, dirty feeling. She was thankful that Jarvis wouldn't let anyone from the street up to where she slept. She could pretend that they weren't still out there, looking for her.
"It's almost time to get up, anyway. Do you want coffee?" Natasha asked her as if nothing had happened.
The woman sat away from her and gave her some room to untwist her shirt and smooth down her hair. Estrella fingered her copper butterfly and nodded. Natasha was pale and bright. Sharp, like a shard of glass.
"Did you dream of men?" Natasha asked.
Estrella nodded again.
"The ones who are after you?"
She nodded again.
"Tell me who they are, so me and Jarvis can know who to watch for. Who to keep away. We'll run a check on all the employees in the tower to make sure you're safe," Natasha said.
Estrella had never thought of that. What if they were already inside, just waiting for a chance to get at her? The fear widened her eyes and made her clutch at her necklace harder. She pressed it into the skin of her throat, as if firmer contact could make it work better than it already did.
"La Eme. In Phoenix. Not regular Eme. They were from down south. Maya," Estrella whispered, "I killed some of them. But some of them lived. They'll remember me. They never forget."
"You killed them? How?" Natasha asked.
"My voice. There was a tree. They couldn't get to me right away. I screamed and they started stabbing each other. The police came, but…" Estrella shrugged.
"You didn't kill them. They killed each other," Natasha said.
"They never kill each other, unless they get the order first. They wouldn't have done it except for me. If I wouldn't have screamed-"
"If they wouldn't have assaulted you, if they wouldn't have been Eme, if they'd stayed home that night to watch television, if, if, if. Estrella, you're crap at failure analysis. I'm not going to argue with you," Natasha said.
Estrella nodded and looked down at her knees. Her legs weren't ugly anymore. She didn't like that.
"Estrella, you can't tell Steve," Natasha said.
"I know. He's so stupid. He would try to take on the whole gang, and then he'd want to fight all the gangs, on the streets and in the prisons, and he'd start trouble in-"
"Right. So, leave it to me. And Jarvis. And maybe Barnes. Look, don't even tell Tony. Just don't talk about it," Natasha decided.
"I don't like Bucky. I don't want him to know," Estrella said.
Natasha nodded. She got up to go make the coffee. Estrella hugged her arms around herself in the cool room. She frowned at Natasha's back. Nat hadn't verbally agreed to not tell Bucky. Even if she had, it wouldn't mean much. If Natasha thought it was best to do something, she was going to do it, no matter what she had to say to keep the complaining down. But she'd been concerned about Steve not finding out. That was good.
Steve.
He was good. And clean. He didn't turn into an animal, like those men. Like most men.
Estrella hurried into her long, fuzzy sweater and tugged on her pants from the night before. She ran from the room to brush her teeth and slick her messy hair with warm water.
"Natasha, is it alright if I ask Steve over for coffee?" she called into the kitchen.
"It's fine with me. He's probably up now. Ask him," Natasha said.
Estrella went back to her room and looked at her phone. She knew Steve didn't like coming to Natasha's suite. He would think up a reason not to come. She ambled to the kitchen with her phone in her hand.
Natasha looked at her and made a flat, displeased line of her lips.
"You're too soft. You let him make up excuses, didn't you?" Natasha asked her.
"No. I didn't text him," Estrella admitted.
"Why do I bother with you people?" Natasha asked under her breath.
She got her phone out and texted. While she finished setting out mugs, she nodded Estrella over to the couch by the windows. Estrella loved the look of determination on Natasha's face as she texted a response to whatever Steve tried to argue.
Before the coffee was done making, there was a knock at the door.
Stay there, Natasha mouthed to her.
Estrella nodded and kept her place in the sun, curled at one end of the couch.
Natasha wasn't surprised to see Steve barefoot and barely dressed in gray ratty sweatpants and a clingy undershirt. But she was surprised at the smell. She stood across the doorway to make him wait a moment.
"You smell like a gay brothel," she whispered.
"You said she had a nightmare and I needed to get here quick," Steve grumbled low enough so the girl at the far end of the suite wouldn't hear.
He studied Estrella's slumped posture and unhappy face. She looked like she needed a hug. Why wouldn't Nat let him pass?
"I didn't know you'd be busy," Natasha hissed.
"And I didn't ask to be hurried so that I couldn't take a shower first. Do you want me here or not? 'Cause I could get back to what I was doing," Steve said.
"Put away the attitude. She needs you. It was bad. Get to the bathroom and wash up. You reek," Natasha said.
She could hear Steve's teeth grind as he passed her. It was so like him to take the high road and let her insult stand. They both knew it was bad timing, and that she wasn't faulting him for doing what he had to do. They also both knew that she couldn't resist the opportunity to jab at him for a little fun.
Natasha smiled in satisfaction and went to fix their coffee how she knew everyone liked it. She could hear Steve splashing and grumbling in the hall bathroom. With the smell of him, she was surprised he wasn't loose and mellow.
She would have brought coffee for Estrella and Steve then retreated to her room to get ready for the day, but something about Steve was a little too edgy. She needed to stay and watch. For Estrella's sake. Natasha set two mugs down on the coffee table, then went back to the kitchen to get hers.
Steve almost plowed her down coming out of the bathroom. Nat swayed away from him gracefully to avoid collision. Her nostrils flared. Steve looked damp and scrubbed, but he still smelled of naughty boy. Maybe it was only because of her slightly enhanced senses. Estrella likely wouldn't pick up on it.
"Better?" he asked briskly.
"Some. You could have used soap," she said.
"Your soap is pink and smells like roses," Steve frowned.
Natasha rolled her eyes and got her coffee. Steve sat next to Estrella and she watched Steve's bad attitude smooth out into gentleness. He picked up his mug and smiled down at his friend. The girl looked at him briefly, then ducked her face down over her coffee. The couch was backed up to the window at Estrella's request, so sunlight poured down over the two of them. Estrella's shiny black hair was in stark contrast to Steve's burnished gold.
"I'm sorry to bother you. I know you don't like coming here," Estrella said.
Natasha noticed that she kept her fingers to her throat, pressing the necklace to her skin. Steve put his free arm around her and pulled Estrella close against him. Nat was fascinated to see a sort of calm enjoyment overcome the worry and the strain on their faces as soon as the bare skin of Steve's arm touched the back of Estrella's neck.
"You're not a bother, Eya. I don't mind coming," Steve told her.
"Thank you," Estrella whispered.
She set her coffee on the table and turned toward Steve. Her face rested on the side of his chest, where the sleeveless undershirt didn't cover him. She sighed, then giggled.
"You smell good," she said.
"I'm sorry. I was going to shower, but Nat had me worried. She said you had a nightmare," Steve choked out.
His eyes were wide, and Natasha saw him start to move away, but Estrella snuggled closer. Natasha bit her bottom lip to keep from grinning too big.
"I just told you that you smell good, and you have to apologize?" Estrella complained mildly.
"Sorry," Steve mumbled.
"Stop it!" Estrella fussed.
She pinched at his side with her thumb and hand. Steve smiled and caught her attempt. He pushed her hand aside carefully, without closing his grip around her wrist. Natasha noticed how tediously cautious he was with the girl.
"Do you want to tell me about your dream?" Steve asked.
"No. I've had that one enough. I don't need to talk about it," Estrella denied.
She shrugged under the weight of Steve's arm, and he removed it to rest along the back of the couch. Estrella managed to move in closer to him, and her face rubbed at his chest. Steve sighed and wiggled himself to slouch down on the couch. The change in position put Estrella's head on his shoulder rather than on his chest. He shut his eyes and rested his head back against the couch. The sunlight gilded his eyebrows and lashes and made his lips seem as pink as the soap in the bathroom that he didn't like.
They were gorgeous together and Natasha hid her smile in her oversized coffee mug in case Steve cracked his eyelids. She didn't want him to see how pleased she was with the match. He was moody enough that he might try to fight it, just like he'd refused every other attempt she'd made at setting him up with a girl. Natasha doubted he'd be able to fight his attraction for Estrella for long. He was such a pup, not at all able to resist anything which snagged at his heart.
Natasha wasn't proud of the part of her that wanted to lash out at Steve and sting him while he was vulnerable. He was more dangerous now, and he was getting wise to her machinations, because he opened one eye and frowned at her. As if he could feel her across the room painting a target on him. He probably could. Sure enough, he moved his hips a little. His legs shifted slightly, like he was thinking about blocking a painful strike.
She smiled faintly at him. Steve deliberately provoked her in return. He relaxed even further. His long legs sprawled apart, and he propped one foot on the coffee table. He closed his eyes and leaned his jaw against Estrella's forehead. He appeared completely relaxed. She knew better.
"I'm so glad you're not like the rest of them," Estrella murmured lazily.
"The rest of who?" Steve asked.
"The men. The ones in my dreams. They're dumb animals," Estrella sneered faintly.
Steve was quiet for a long moment.
"Eya, sometimes I'm not any better than them," he said.
Natasha could see the pained honesty on his face. Estrella smiled and patted the center of his chest.
"That's funny, Steve. You're so different that you can't even see it," Estrella insisted.
She rubbed at his skin through the shirt.
"Why do you smell so good?" she asked him.
Natasha watched Steve struggle with the angel on his left shoulder and the imp on his right. He didn't really move, but she could see the increased definition in his muscle fibers just under his skin. His lack of skill at hiding what was on his mind told her he was going to say something he shouldn't.
"Because I'm a dumb animal," Steve said.
Estrella sat up and frowned at him. He was slouched down so much that she was face level with him.
"You are not!" she denied.
"I dare ya to look me over and say that again," Steve said.
Natasha's mouth fell open. The little shit! In the instant it took her and Estrella's eyes to wander down the length of him, Steve gave in to the tension in his body. His posture changed so that his abs tightened and his hips curled into slight prominence. A truly impressive erection pressed up toward his belly, barely constrained by his sweats. His arms and legs mostly stayed still, but Nat knew he was primed for movement. She'd never seen that hot, intent look on his face as he dared Estrella not to see him for what he was. This was pure Steve Rogers, no super-hero in sight. Yet, he was still a strategist.
Estrella gasped in a breath, then shut her mouth to hold it in. There was no darkness to hide in. Steve let her see everything. And damn Estrella for not being afraid. Natasha ran through possible defenses in her mind while the girl was drawn to him like a magnet. Nat knew his body too intimately to not recognize the coiled stillness for what it was. Steve was ready to move, merely awaiting the precise moment for what he wanted to do.
Estrella's fingers reached to touch him again, and Natasha was alarmed at the eager, anticipatory heat that leapt into Steve's eyes. If Estrella touched him, Nat knew she wouldn't be strong enough to pull him off of her.
"Get to your room!" Natasha commanded.
Estrella jumped back at the crack of authority in her voice. She looked to Nat, then back to Steve again. Nat could see that she was weighing the possibility of Steve defending her against Natasha. The girl was likely right. If she wanted him to, Steve would see to it that Estrella got what she wanted.
"Go!" Nat said.
She advanced on them and grabbed Estrella away by the arm. She had to be firm but careful. If the girl made the slightest whimper of pain, Steve would be all over her. As it was, Nat could feel Steve rise up and follow them as she moved Estrella toward her room.
Estrella looked back, worried and confused, until Nat got her in her room and pulled the door shut. Natasha was trusting in whatever honor Steve had left to not swat his way through her and the door to get to the girl.
"Eya, so help me Lord, if you come out of that room before Nat says you can, I'm never going to visit you here again. Do you hear me?" Steve demanded acknowledgement through the closed door.
"Okay," Eya squeaked.
Natasha shivered at the feel of the power vibrating right behind her. Trust. She trusted him. Her eyes wanted to roll in their sockets at the danger and energy pouring off him like a fog, but she held still. Trust. She had to.
It took just as much effort to keep her throat open and soundless and her body still and compliant when an arm like iron grasped around front of her hips and hauled her off her feet, back against him. It was very much like a secure ballet lift, and her muscle memory locked her body still, yet nimble. Her hands braced against his forearm. His erection branded into her bottom as he carried her through the suite until they were in her room. She was wondering when or if she should start fighting when he set her down. Then he turned to silently ease her bedroom door shut.
"God help me, Nat. Do you think I scared any sense into her?" Steve asked in a rush.
She stared at him for a moment, at first confused that an attack was not imminent, and then bemused that he'd once again defied her expectations of men. Still, he was revved up and barely in control. That was easy to see, because he looked so different from his usual calm, tightly leashed self. He looked much like an ordinary young man lost in the rush of what his body pushed him to do. But he wasn't ordinary, and it wasn't like him to forget that. To forget the hazard he posed to the rest of them if he wasn't careful.
"You're a prick!" Natasha snapped at him.
She gathered her composure and crossed her arms in a firm stance, but she knew Steve would notice the leaping pulse at her throat. It shouldn't be a problem, because he wasn't any calmer.
"Well, yeah, but I had to do something. She thinks I'm an angel. Or a kitten. Or a teddy bear, or something. Thanks for playing along," Steve huffed a little.
"I was not playing along. I was a heartbeat away from hurting you any way I could," Natasha admitted.
"Oh," Steve said.
She frowned hard at him. He was as tense as she'd seen him in battle, but he was just Steve, without the tight discipline of the Captain. His arousal hadn't dissipated. His eyes were still blown, and he was shaking a little bit.
"Get back to your suite and finish what you were doing. I don't want to see you until you've got your shit together. The next time I interrupt you, please tell me to fuck off unless it's a call to assemble. Maybe even then," Nat said.
"Sure. I'm sorry if I scared you," Steve said.
He barely looked sorry. Usually, when Steve apologized, it was with full hang-dog expression and implied toe-scuffing. Right now, there was none of that. He was thinking, imagining something, his mind flying ahead to what hadn't happened. Probably fantasizing. Distracted. His large hands twitched, as if he wanted to grab.
"Steve. Get out of my room."
"Right," he agreed.
Still, he hesitated.
She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him.
"Sorry. I'll go now," Steve said.
Natasha watched his backside as he pivoted on a heel with military precision and left. She hoped that Estrella had the sense to stay in her room. When she heard the entry door of her suite close, she moved quickly to clear her home to make sure he was really gone.
Trust was needed sometimes when all the cards were down and the options were thin. Foolishness was another thing entirely. Nat was just about done underestimating Steve.
"Jarvis," Natasha said in clipped tones.
"How may I assist?"
"Do not allow Captain Rogers access to my suite unless I give verbal permission and my vitals are normal," she instructed.
"Understood. Protocol active. Should Mister Stark be made aware of anything?"
"No. Steve appeared to have a plan I was unaware of, and he held it together. Take no other action at this time," she said.
"Are you alright, Miss?" Jarvis asked.
"Yes. We're fine. If Estrella is afraid, then he accomplished what he meant to," Natasha said.
"Perhaps he did," Jarvis agreed stiffly.
Natasha knocked on Estrella's door.
Estrella opened it and looked out with searching eyes.
"He's gone," Natasha told her.
"Are you alright?" Estrella asked.
Nat nodded briskly. She turned to go back to her room.
"What's wrong with Steve?" Estrella asked her.
"Nothing. He's just a man. You should respect his limits when he tells you to back off," Natasha said.
She shut herself in her room. Soon as there was a solid door between her and Estrella, Nat sank to the floor in a crouch. Her legs felt shaky, so she balanced herself with a fingertip on the floor while she got herself under control.
She let her fears wash through her. It wasn't that she felt she'd almost been raped. That, she could handle. It happened occasionally and she didn't talk about it. She healed well, she didn't get sick, and she couldn't get pregnant. It was only pain. What had her reeling was that it was Steve who'd scared her. Steve, who tore down concrete walls with his body and ripped metal apart with his hands. She'd let him get a grip on her. Let him. She stood there and didn't fight it.
Sick shivers chased down her spine and into her belly as images of possibilities flashed in her brain. Steve, straining above or behind her, rutting and senseless. Her, trying to stay quiet to keep Estrella unaware. Then, what she'd have to do after… Nat shook her head violently to clear the awful thoughts. It would have torn the Avengers apart. Ripped out the heart of them.
"Reckless punk. You're so lucky that worked," Natasha whispered.
She was developing a new appreciation for James Barnes. Not as the Winter Soldier, but as the man who tried to keep up with a shit like Rogers. Barnes thought that Rogers needed watching. So, she would watch.
Should she discuss the incident with Bruce? No. With Thor? Maybe. Men were prickly and over reactive sometimes. All she wanted was backup, not a full on inquisition against Steve. Thor would probably overdo it, if he knew everything.
As her nerves calmed, she was disgusted to feel that she was wet. Then, she had to admit to herself that she'd wanted him from the moment she'd smelled him at her front door. She'd kept her head straight until it was over. At least there was that small consolation.
She stood to get her phone from her dresser.
She had a traumatic dream, you idiot. You probably made it worse, she texted.
A full three minutes later, he replied.
Fuck off, Nat. Sorry.
Natasha hung her head and laughed ruefully. He couldn't seem to shake that politeness. If she didn't know he meant it, she would be able to stay angry with him.
"Jarvis," Steve snapped as soon as he was in his suite.
"Captain?" the AI asked.
There was no mistaking the chill in the already cool British voice.
"Do not let Miss Estrella into my suite if I'm home, or likely to return home anytime soon. Coordinate tower protocol with any off-site monitoring awareness of my location to assure compliance," Steve ordered.
"Done, Captain," Jarvis said.
"Don't get short with me, J. I did what I had to do," he said.
"Sir," was Jarvis' only response.
Steve went into his room and stripped for a quick shower. He'd deal with the trashed bed and put away Rosie when he was done. He didn't trust himself to bring the toy into the shower with him for cleaning. He felt too dirty to want to use the thing right now. Who was he kidding? He sure as hell wanted to use it, but he wouldn't.
The thought of scaring Estrella like he'd just done shamed him. If he'd managed to frighten Natasha, then he'd really overdone it. His acting was shit. The only reason it had worked was because it was honest. Real. He'd let himself run with it. Snapped the leash off. At the last moment, right before he'd grabbed Nat to haul her away, he'd grasped control again.
A surprised laugh barked out of him. He didn't think he would have escaped with all his hide intact. Nat had knives everywhere.
While he soaped up under the icy shower spray, his fist closed around his erection. It was a thoughtless move, but he didn't fight it. It took no more than five slippery pulls and he was off again. It barely registered. He rinsed and hurried to get dressed. He still had a mess to clean, and a meeting to get to in less than half an hour.
When he got to the phone on his bed, he saw that Nat had texted him again. He replied how she would expect him to, then hurried so he wouldn't be late.
All the while Hill was updating them on what they knew about their assets in Washington, Steve forced himself to pay attention and remember the information. That was usually easy, but today it was an effort.
Natasha was not staring at him so hard that he could literally feel the absence of her regard. If she kept that up, Thor would notice. Crap. Too late. Steve kept his focus on what he needed to. He even took notes, which was rare, but necessary. Thor would notice that too. Shit.
By the end of the meeting, even Tony was watching him. Clint looked nervous, and Bruce was concerned. Sam was unnaturally quiet. No one had questions for Hill, so she and her agents cleared out.
"What's this?" Tony asked lightly.
He swirled his finger around at the air between them.
"Outside, Stark," Steve said.
He left for the elevator, and Tony hurried to follow. Tony hated to look like he was hurrying, but his legs weren't as long. Steve shook his head at the rest of the team not to follow, but Thor and Natasha got into the elevator anyway.
"Hmmm?" Tony prompted as they left the business floors of Avengers operations.
"It's personal, Tony. You don't need to worry about it," Steve said calmly.
"Is it the kind of personal that has my AI snippy with me all morning?" Tony asked.
"Probably. Maybe you should re-program your AI. Remove the emotion protocol," Steve suggested.
"He doesn't have an emotion protocol," Tony said.
"That's interesting. He's getting it from somewhere," Steve said
"Rogers. What did you do?" Tony asked.
Thor raised a brow and waited for his answer.
"I said it's personal. I'll make you a deal. You tell me three things you don't want anyone else to know, and I'll consider talking," Steve argued.
"Jarvis?" Tony said.
"So predictable," Steve grumbled.
"Sir, you may try every override code you have. I do not have any data on the event. I wish that I did," Jarvis said with feeling.
"Why not?" Tony asked.
"Because privacy was enhanced for the benefit of Miss Estrella," Jarvis said.
Tony stared at Steve like he was a piece of machinery he couldn't yet figure out. He often treated it like a personal insult if there was anything going on in the tower that he wasn't fully briefed on. Steve ignored what would have probably been the threat of enough hungry, speculative intellect to rattle most people into talking.
"My gym please, Jarvis," Steve directed.
"You're not going to lunch?" Natasha asked.
"Later," Steve said.
Tony observed that despite whatever was wrong between them, Natasha was still on speaking terms with their Captain. He got out of the elevator on a retail floor, but he pointed to his eyes, then at Steve.
"I know. I know you're watching. Everybody's fucking watching," Steve grumbled.
Thor looked aside at Steve, then to Natasha.
The elevator opened onto the quiet floor where the Captain's gym was. Natasha gave Steve a little push when he lingered too long. He refused to move.
"I wasn't planning to have an audience," Steve said.
"You will not have one in me," Thor assured.
"Good," Steve said.
They went into the dark gym. Steve started stripping down as soon as the door shut behind them. Natasha flicked on the dim lights and sat on the floor out of the way. Steve ripped his office tie from around his neck and started on the shirt buttons. He looked from Nat to Thor. Thor removed the jacket he'd been wearing and bent to unlace his shoes.
"She has said nothing. I need no words to see that you have done wrong," Thor answered Steve's unspoken wondering.
"What are you, Santa Claus?" Steve snarked.
"Have you been naughty? I have no coal. The best I can do is to blacken your eyes," Thor bantered back.
"You know too much. You're no fun anymore," Steve said.
He unbuttoned the cuffs at his wrists and threw his shirt aside. In less than a minute, he was down to his boxer briefs and his skin. Thor followed suit. Natasha snickered to see that Thor was wearing SpongeBob underoos. He grinned at Natasha, then turned to face Steve.
Thor took a hit to the cheek and went flying onto his ass. Natasha winced at the sound of bare skin skidding across glossy hardwood. Thor shoved himself up and rammed into Steve before the man could get him into the corner by the door.
Steve was forced back by sheer power. Thor made him to step backward or go down stumbling. Their shoulders and necks locked together until Steve made a quick jerk and ducked under the larger man's chest. He shoved forward then stood, intending to launch Thor back and over. Thor grabbed his waist and ended up on the bottom as Steve slammed his weight downward.
Thor coughed, but didn't let go of the hug he had around Steve's torso and one arm. Natasha was impressed with how quick Thor got Steve into a head lock. With thighs like that, she didn't think there was any way for Steve to get free. Not without his shield.
"Aaagh! By the twelve moons! You are in a temper today!" Thor cried out in pain as Steve did something she couldn't see. Steve's large hands gripped Thor's sides and squeezed. Steve's legs jerked around and got them off balance. Thor tried to control him, but there was nothing except a slick floor to lever against.
"I do not wish to harm you," Thor grumbled.
He let go of Steve's head, and Steve kicked him away. Another squeak of flesh against flooring.
"Then why did you follow me in here?" Steve asked.
The smacking and thumping of fists pummeling into muscle took up two minutes before Thor could answer.
"Because you have need of me," Thor said calmly.
"Fuck off," Steve growled.
He lunged into a series of hits which actually had Thor stumbling on his heels. Thor fought his balance back and leaned into it. Steve lifted him off his feet and slammed him onto the floor on his back. The floor planks creaked in protest. Thor got up and gripped Steve with both hands. He drew him back over his head and slammed Steve into the wall. The steel wall panel dented and it was Steve's turn to leave some skin behind.
"Lady, it might be best if you leave," Thor grunted.
Steve got up and had Thor on the retreat again, using moves Natasha didn't know he had. Thor over matched him in strength. That was no surprise. But Steve appeared to have an advantage in hand-to-hand skill and agility. Thor grappled around, taking the hits while trying to get a grip on sweaty skin. Steve took his feet out from under him, then pummeled Thor on the planks.
Steve would have killed a human man many times over with the force he was using, but Thor was tough enough to take the abuse with barely a grimace. While Steve was still trying to drive him into the floor, Thor waved for Natasha to leave.
Since Steve obviously couldn't kill Thor, and Thor looked calm enough that he must be in a forgiving mood, Natasha got up and left. Steve didn't notice her leaving.
Thor timed his reach right, and pulled Steve into a crushing hug.
"It appears that you have me beat in agility and rage, little brother. But not in might," Thor said kindly.
"Is she gone?" Steve wheezed.
"She is," Thor answered.
"Then get the hell off me," Steve complained. He pushed loose of Thor and rolled away.
Thor sat up and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees while Steve paced.
"You fight well without the use of your brain. I tremble to think of what you could do, were all your faculties engaged," Thor said.
"Shut your pie hole, will ya?" Steve snapped at him.
Thor made a face at the insult, more for the feeling behind it than for the meaning of the words. While Steve worked off excess fury, Thor looked down at the deep bite that was healing on his inner thigh.
"Would you next have pulled my hair and gouged me with your fingernails?" Thor wondered.
"No. I'm sorry about that," Steve muttered.
"I am judging by the cock-stand that fighting isn't what you need?" Thor offered.
Steve snorted at himself in disgust and tried to shake his body loose, but the tension wouldn't let go.
"Fighting is exactly what I need," Steve said.
"I see. Then we should carry on," Thor agreed.
Thor's merry tone didn't mask the sound of his movement. Steve turned and blocked only well enough to keep from having his ribs cracked. Speed and skill were no help this time. Thor wouldn't let him get a breath or his footing. The punches to his torso hurt like getting hit with cannonballs. Thor knocked him across the room, hit by hit, until his back slammed into dented and splintered wood. Thor walloped his gut with a knee and held him off his feet, pinned to the wall.
Steve retched empty air and choked, trying to breathe. God, he hurt. He felt like his bones were rattling loose in his skin.
"Is this what you wanted? Or should I strike lower to chill your ardor?" Thor asked.
Steve woggled his head in a 'maybe'. He was hurting and down, but not out.
"I will not," Thor denied.
He stepped away and let Steve stumble onto a wobbly, three point huddle.
"You disappoint me," Thor announced.
"You're breakin my heart," Steve said.
Thor sat in front of him and shoved Steve over onto his back like a turtle. It was an insult more than anything. Steve took it as his due and flopped down loose, spread on the floor.
"What troubles you?" Thor asked after a while.
"This won't go down. Hurts. Just about as bad as dancing with you," Steve panted.
His middle felt mashed and queasy. He tasted blood and bile in his mouth, but swallowed it down. He didn't want Thor to worry. Or bring him to medical.
Thor assessed the stiffness in his shorts and shook his head.
"You are but a child. Why haven't you taken care of it? You've had every opportunity."
"I've been trying. Nothing works anymore. Five times this morning. It's like it didn't feel a thing," Steve lamented.
"That's because it did not. Tell me, what woman have you been with?" Thor tested him.
Steve remained silent.
"I thought as much. You've merely waved it around and frightened the ladies, haven't you?"
" 'Fraid so," Steve agreed.
His insides felt… separated. Steve rolled aside and heaved blood onto the floor, hopefully where Thor wouldn't see.
"Natasha tells me that you have ample life blood. Should I be concerned that you are spitting it out?"
"Nah."
Steve gingerly rolled onto his back again and watched the improbable sight of Thor handling his tiny phone.
"Who're you calling?" Steve asked suspiciously.
"No one," Thor answered.
He held his phone above him and carefully touched the screen.
"Smartass. Who're you texting, then?"
"The Lady Pepper. You will spend the afternoon with her gentle mercies," Thor said.
Steve winced.
"You're a stinkin traitor, Thor," he bit out.
"I know what you need," Thor said when he'd put his phone away. Steve wondered how he'd kept it tucked into his ridiculous underwear up against his butt cheek all this time without having the little gadget destroyed.
"You do, huh? Why don't ya tell me so we'll both know," Steve grumped sourly.
Steve squawked in surprise as Thor jerked him roughly across the floor and slapped his legs open. A second later, the world was all hot and wet, and thirty seconds after that, Steve couldn't think of his own name. The tension bled out of him like a fire hose.
Thor sat up and roughly wiped his mouth. Just as gently, he snapped Steve's underwear back into place.
"Ipe!" Steve yelped.
"I show you sympathy because mere man was never meant to possess a body such as yours. You are a fine warrior, and an honorable man. Yet, you are a green whelp when it comes to your phallus. You let it rule you. I say again, since you did not appreciate it the first time… I am disappointed, Steven. Make an effort to improve yourself, lest I begin to lose respect," Thor told him.
The words hurt as much as the beating he'd taken. More. Steve sat up quick and reached for Thor, to keep him from leaving. With his sore middle, he wasn't quite fast enough.
"Please. I want to fix this. I don't know how," Steve said.
Thor stopped on his path to the door. Steve wondered why he was walking out with nothing but his silly underwear on. Then, he thought of himself, dressed, but having to carry Thor's clothes through the tower, following after a nearly naked man. Son of a bitch! He wouldn't do it. Thor could be subtle with his punishments, but this was too much.
"I will assist you. Be watchful," Thor said.
He started toward the door again.
"Watchful for what?" Steve asked.
"If I told you, then you would have no need to be watchful. If you will permit, brother, I have a most grievous need to find strong drink," Thor bit out.
"I'm sorry about that. I didn't know you were going to-" Steve stopped talking.
Thor was gone.
Steve felt like a chastised child, as Thor had called him a few times. Apparently he had a lot to learn. It wasn't the lessons he was anxious about. He was sure he could learn plenty from Thor's experience. What if he wasn't watchful enough? What if he missed something? And why the hell hadn't he been able to haul a full load of his frustrations by himself? Why did it need the touch of another person to ease the stress?
"Lewis is coming with us? Pepper, please. Not Lewis," Steve said.
He followed Pepper's clicking heels to the car waiting in the garage, and Lewis followed him. It hurt to walk normally, and he didn't feel like eating. That alone should have made him consider a checkup in medical, but Pepper was on a mission and slowing down for no one.
She held up a finger and spoke to herself. No, to somebody else. Something about share allocation for fungible assets. Lewis followed along behind him like a fly.
"You're in trouuuble, Cap. She cleared her afternoon because Thor asked her to. But that doesn't mean she has to like it," Darcy said.
"And why are you here?" Steve asked the woman.
"Because she values my opinion. And I can text really fast with one hand while I carry things," Darcy held up her phone and showed him how her thumb scrolled out words in a hurry, messaging a completely different conversation than the one she was having with him. All the while she carried a stack of documents in her other arm.
"Here," Steve offered to take the files.
"No, I've got it. You better keep up with her. She is not in the mood for slow, and you look like you stood in front of a train. Thor?" Darcy asked brightly.
Steve nodded and coughed. Damn. He hadn't meant to do that.
Pepper gestured them into the back of the waiting black limo with one hand, and put a finger on her lips for quiet. Steve kept silent as he got in, though his gut was screaming at him.
"Just. Right. There," Darcy whispered.
She leaned across before she buckled up and wiped a fleck of blood from his lips. Steve grabbed her finger and smeared it off with his thumb before she could do anything weird with it. Lewis was weird. He supposed he trusted her, because everyone else did, but she made him uncomfortable. She pouted at him and looked at her finger to see if there was anything left.
Pepper gave them both a look, and they sat still and quiet.
"No. We're not doing that. Eleven point six percent. Any less and you can terminate the contract," Pepper said.
"Thank you," she said with finality, and touched her ear.
"Why don't you call Darcy by her first name, Steve? She's not a soldier," Pepper turned her full attention to him.
"Yes, Ma'am," he said.
"Bleeding. You're bleeding. Happy, take us to medical. Captain Rogers is hurt," she called to the front.
"Right away," Happy said.
"No. I'm fine. This is nothing," Steve insisted. He held his hand out and shook his head. He might prefer a bed in medical to what Pepper was bound to do to his pride today, but Thor had called her to help, so he'd take the help.
"Steve, you have blood rimming your gums. Drink this. Swish and swallow. If I see any more red in your mouth, we're going back. Never mind, Happy. He's only a damn super-soldier," Pepper called in annoyance.
Darcy laughed.
They both looked at her.
"Don't mind me. My job makes me crazy," Darcy said.
"But you're so good with crazy, dear. It's one of the reasons we love you," Pepper told her.
Steve kept his mouth shut and breathed calmly and slowly through his nose. Things were squirming and shifting inside him, pulling themselves back together. He was used to the feeling, so he didn't let it show on his face.
"Thor says you need assistance. Tony says you only trust your look with me. I'm flattered, but I'm busy. We'll work around the calls I can't skip. You're my doll today, Steve. Get used to it. I don't have time for backtalk," she said.
She held up her finger as another call came in.
"Trouuuble," Darcy whispered.
Steve sat back and closed his eyes. Something felt sharp in his gut. There was more shifting, then the sensation passed. Thor had worked him over good, and he appreciated it. It was hard to focus on his groin when he had dames watching him for blood in his teeth.
"What did you get turned in for?" Darcy asked.
She leaned across as if Steve would lean to meet her and share secrets.
Pepper touched her ear again. Then she pressed a button and the privacy screen went up between them and Happy. Steve knew he only had a moment more of dignity left. Soon as the black glass was seated in its soundproof frame, Pepper turned to Darcy.
"Captain Rogers needs tops that will cover unwanted fullness at the crotch," Pepper said.
"Yowza," Darcy said with feeling.
Both women stared pointedly at the area in question.
"The Captain doesn't need that. I do," Steve corrected them.
"And why is that, Steve?" Pepper asked.
Because everyone in the tower is an ogling pervert, Steve thought, but he didn't say it.
"Because I seem to have some trouble with control lately, and I don't want to offend anyone," Steve ground out between his teeth.
"Liar," Darcy said.
"You have a better explanation?" Steve asked her.
"Yes. You don't mind offending people. You just don't like to share," Darcy said.
"Children," Pepper said.
"With respect, Ma'am. I'm not a child," Steve said.
"And I'm not a Ma'am," Pepper said.
"Yes. Pepper." Steve said.
Steve's voice was low and grinding with the difficulty of managing to hold his mind, his body, and this conversation exactly where it had to be, despite Lewis' annoying presence.
"Oooh. Do that again. Please?" Darcy begged quietly.
"Pepper, I don't usually have trouble getting along with people, but I am today. Can you help me with that?" Steve asked.
He pointedly ignored Darcy, which made the girl smile wider, for some reason.
"You need a lot of help today, it seems. Darcy, be kind to him and maybe he'll be kind to you," Pepper said.
Darcy pouted again, but only briefly.
"Steve, we know you're having some difficulties. Probably because of the serum. Tony feels bad about that, though I've told him it's not his fault-"
"It's not. And it's probably not Howard's fault, either," Steve insisted.
"Fault doesn't matter much right now. As Darcy also mentioned, we don't mind if you share," Pepper said.
She gave him a moment to see that her smile was real, and that there was, indeed, a warm-blooded woman beneath the suit.
He set his will and his jaw and gave her his focused attention. Pepper was formidable, but he wasn't going to be run down like hounds on a fox with this business.
"Yes. That's nice, Captain. I'm aware of your sensibilities. Your patriotic disapproval is enough to give a girl the shivers, but we're only shopping today. Listen. Every man's got a penis, and Lord knows I've had to make far too many excuses for Tony's. So let's skip to the end. You're an associate of mine. I can't have you going around wearing it like you're bashful. You carry it like an issued sidearm, or you conceal it with a permit. It's either, or. Not somewhere in the middle. Understand?" she asked briskly.
Darcy was smirking at him. He could see it from the corner of his eye. He felt like palming her face until her pert little nose snapped. But then, Thor would tenderize him some more.
"Yes. Pepper." he said carefully.
Why was it so difficult to avoid calling her Ma'am? Maybe because he felt he was being schooled like Peggy used to do to the recruits.
Darcy wiggled in her seat with glee.
Steve wondered how many millimeters of tooth enamel he was losing.
"Darcy. I know this is so fun, but would you please stop antagonizing him? He's trying very hard," Pepper said mildly.
"Sorry," Darcy whispered.
Steve could almost smell her lack of contrition.
"Steve, I apologize. I thought Darcy was joking when she said you hated her. She can ride in the front on the way home," Pepper said.
"I don't hate anyone. I usually find Miss Lewis entertaining. She feeds me occasionally, and I like being fed. I'm having trouble today. I apologize," Steve made an effort toward Darcy.
"You're having trouble today? What was with the whole exorcist slash Vin Diesel thing in the training room? And I even fed you then. You demanded half my popcorn, then you scared the spit out of all of us," she pointed out.
"I have no recollection of those events," Steve said.
"You really don't?" Darcy asked.
"I really don't, past a certain moment" Steve told her.
"Dude. I stole Tony's bourbon before two in the afternoon," she insisted.
"Again. I'm sorry. We don't know what's wrong with me yet," Steve apologized.
"That's easy. The problem is your fossilized virtue wedged sideways in your ass. It's bound to chafe after a few decades, and you're waaay past expiration date," Darcy explained.
Steve was speechless for a moment, then he laughed. He was impressed, really.
"You should bring that idea to Doctor Banner. He'll put it on the fix-up list with my cleft palate and my club foot. Seriously, Lewis, are you just sore because I haven't-? No. Never mind," Steve said.
He turned back to Pepper. It was barely noon and he was tired. Tired of women, anyway. He'd take another round of punishment from Thor rather than this.
"So. We'll be meeting with Jan. He's good, and he was kind enough to make time for us on short notice. Can we be professional for long enough to get out of the car?" Pepper asked.
She looked to them both expectantly.
"Yes, Pepper." Steve said.
Darcy nodded and bit her lip. Steve still didn't fully understand why Lewis was along for this. She'd set the files down and put her phone away, for once.
They followed Pepper from the limo and into a set of heavily tinted glass doors. The doors opened for them not with Jarvis-like sensors and servos, but with impeccably dressed footmen. Steve stood tall and forced himself to ignore the men who held the doors. It got his back up to see anyone being made subservient like that, but now wasn't the time to cause a scene.
Darcy trotted along beside him much like Tony had earlier. Pepper's legs were likely just as long as his. With Darcy's dark hair and smart mouth, Steve had a random thought about Darcy being related to Tony, but he let that go, too.
They went into a room that was draped in heavy fabric from floor to ceiling except where there were mirrors. Someone closed the door behind them, and Steve felt like he was in a small, exclusive chamber just outside of reality. The place smelled of money and a prim stuffiness what would tolerate no disorder.
A tall, slim man greeted Pepper cordially, then turned to Steve.
"Commander Rogers," he said with a little bow.
Steve nodded to the painfully proper fellow. He'd have to speak with someone about that title getting out.
"It's Captain," Steve corrected.
"My apologies, Captain," Jan amended.
So help him, if he saw Darcy wiggle in that giddy little dance again, he was going to pop her hard enough to make her glasses go flying. That wasn't very hard. Thor wouldn't hurt him much.
"It's my honor to assist you today. I was told that there is a matter of coverage?" Jan asked lightly.
He gestured to a polished wooden platform that stood like a small box in the middle of the room. Steve had heard of such things before, in fancy books, so he stepped up onto it.
Pepper murmured quiet agreement to Jan, who obviously needed no further instruction.
"I'm sorry for not forwarding his measurements, but there have been some changes lately," Pepper said.
"It's no trouble. No trouble at all," Jan said.
Steve wondered why they were all waiting while he stood on a box like a statue. Then Pepper cleared her throat. Darcy perked up, then slumped in disappointment. The women exited the room past a curtain which fell behind them along with thick silence.
"If you'll pardon me, Captain. A moment of indulgence, and then it will be over," Jan said.
He held out a tape measure. Steve stared him down, then loosened his stance. Jan sighed, but he got to work. The tape measure went places that Steve wasn't accustomed to allowing a stranger access to outside of the battlefield or medical.
"I apologize if my admiration offends you," Jan said.
"Don't take it personal," Steve said.
"I could say the same," Jan said.
"Fair enough," Steve agreed.
It was the most polite treatment he'd had all day. Jan circled his hips with the tape, then made a series of measurements up this torso, brief and efficient. Steve coughed when the man's knuckles pressed slightly into him below the ribs. Steve grimaced, then was quick to cover his teeth. Not quick enough.
"My dear Captain! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just get done already. The sooner people quit poking at me, the sooner my insides can settle," Steve said irritably.
"Of course," Jan murmured.
"You're not writing any of this down. How-?" Steve asked.
"Eidetic memory," Jan said blandly.
"It's a bitch," Steve said.
"Indeed," Jan agreed.
He went over to the curtain and invited the ladies back in.
Pepper looked on as Jan filled out a form with Steve's measurements, then handed it to an assistant.
"You're a growing boy, Captain," Pepper commented.
"So I've been told," Steve said.
In less than a minute, clothes were brought in.
"Nothing tight or binding, if you want me to wear it more than once. I need to move," Steve said.
"This is for the office and at home. It doesn't have to be like your uniform," Pepper said.
"Things happen. I need to move," Steve re-stated.
"I hear you, Captain. Dolores, let's try the knit instead," Jan said to one of his assistants.
"I'm going to look like a golfer?" Steve asked.
"Only if you want to," Jan replied.
Steve made a face.
"I suppose not," Jan amended.
He shook his head and Dolores sent the knits back. The older woman and a young man came back with a different selection of clothing. Jan took a shirt from Dolores.
"I know this doesn't appear to 'move', but if you would allow me to try," Jan said.
Steve inclined his head. Dolores gestured for Steve to step down off the box and he did.
"Your outerwear please, Captain," Jan requested.
Steve tipped up his chin and undid his tie for the second time of the day. People were always wanting him to take his shirt off. He may as well go around without. Without being asked, he stripped off the undershirt, too.
Gasps and murmurs of surprise went up from the five other people in the room. With the way he was feeling tender, he knew he was probably pretty colorful.
"Yay, Thor," Darcy said.
"Don't cheer until you see Thor," Steve said.
"Did you know he doesn't bruise?" Darcy said brightly.
"Lewis, zip it," Steve ordered.
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry," Darcy said.
Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.
"Captain, you know you're supposed to go to medical when anything like this happens," she said.
"I'll be fine if I can get a damn sandwich!" Steve ground out.
Jan shot a look to the young male assistant. The guy disappeared from the room.
"Are you able to continue, Captain? We can always reschedule for another day when you might not feel as sore," Jan offered.
The man still held the dark blue shirt for him.
"I've done more and in worse condition. I think I can handle some clothes."
Steve wiggled his fingers impatiently at the shirt. Jan slid the garment onto one arm, then the other. The man was so efficient at buttoning him up that he was half done before Steve thought to protest at someone else dressing him. When the shirt was buttoned, Steve stepped back. He didn't need anyone reaching a hand down to tuck a shirt for him.
"Relax, Captain. Coverage, remember? The shirt tails are supposed to stay untucked," Pepper told him.
Jan nodded. He covered the lower half of his face and studied the dark, fitted shirt on Steve. Darcy made a sound like a suppressed squeal.
"Lewis. Don't," Steve warned.
"But she's right. You have to get that one," Pepper said.
She had a twinkle in her eyes that made Steve suspicious. He turned to look into one of the mirrors.
"This doesn't go with the pants," Steve said.
"Nothing goes with those pants, you big dork," Darcy said helpfully.
The silence of horror ricocheted around the room. These society people weren't used to such insults being tolerated. Steve wasn't that high-strung and his skin was thick from long years of name calling as a kid. Plus, Lewis was right. His office dress pants were all wrong for the tailored shirt. Even he could see that the pants were too full cut. Too much fabric.
"Alright, so what goes with it?" Steve asked.
In a few minutes, Steve stood in a pair of khaki work pants that fit him properly.
"These look more like jeans. They're unprofessional," Steve stated.
"Captain, I completely understand your perspective. For a man of your dignity, these may seem a little upstart. I suggest them because of your athletic build. As you can see, they have the refined features of office wear, rather than denim jeans. The fit is merely more streamlined," Jan said.
"Alright. Step back," Steve told him.
Jan took several steps back.
Steve blanked his face against the pain, and twisted his body, as if throwing the shield. Then, he jumped and kicked above his head. He was pleasantly surprised when the fabrics hugged him, but didn't tear. Even the tailored shirt, which felt too fitted to have withstood the movements. Steve suspected some fancy new fabric that regular ready-made clothes weren't made of.
"What do you think, Lewis?" he asked.
Steve strode over to the triple mirror near her, tugging at his cuffs and adjusting his collar. He didn't like the way the flattering lighting made him look like a movie star. It reminded him of having a nervous belly in the dressing room back in his USO days.
"Um. It's good," Darcy said.
She was biting her bottom lip and trying to act cool, but he could sense her intense appreciation of the new look the clothes gave him.
Steve grudgingly ignored her dithered female reaction and tugged at the tails of the shirt which covered his groin in the front, but somehow managed to accentuate his ass while covering it mostly up at the same time. Pepper cleared her throat again. The look in her eyes was approaching what he'd call a gleam. It looked pretty dangerous on a woman of Pepper's stature and presence.
He didn't hate the clothes, and it worked. He'd been afraid of looking like a pansy, in all the modern styles. Sure, Buck pulled it off, but Bucky had the brooding assassin thing going for him, even in drab, plain work clothes. Maybe he could do this, too. Instead of looking pansy and fancy, he looked strong.
"Whatever you've got, I'll try it for a week, but if people laugh, it'll all stay in my closet," Steve said.
"No one will laugh," Pepper promised.
From the look on her face, he believed her.
The young man came forward with a sandwich and a bowl of hearty bean soup on a plate. A little table appeared with Dolores, and so did a glass of milk. And cookies. Steve ate it all and drank while people showed him more clothes on hangers. He nodded when he liked something, and shook his head when he didn't. His tastes were traditional, but he allowed a sharper interpretation of style and darker, more complex colors.
"Captain, I am now firmly certain of your preferences. By tomorrow, I can have a few weeks of wardrobe delivered, both business and casual," Jan said.
Again, Steve nodded. Now that he had some food, he could feel himself healing at an accelerated rate. Faster than usual, maybe. He lifted his finger at the young man who had brought him the food. Before he could verbalize exactly what he wanted, another tray was brought out to him, wrapped to go.
"Nice place you got here, Mister…?" Steve looked to Jan.
"Spence. Please call me Jan, Captain,"
"Not a chance, Mister Spence. And the next time I come here, I'll open my own door," Steve said.
He nodded his thanks to the fella who'd brought him the food, and to Dolores. He wore the new clothes out to the car because he was too busy eating to bother changing. Dolores had already folded the clothes he'd dressed in this morning and put them in a bag which she handed to Darcy. Lewis' boots clicked along at his rear, and Pepper followed after. Happy opened the door of the limo for them and Steve tried not to grimace at having another door held for him. He balanced his food and settled into the car. The ladies joined him and Happy shut the door and got them moving toward home.
"Impressive, Steve. I didn't expect you to own it like that," Pepper complimented him.
Darcy was quiet for once. The privacy glass remained closed between the passenger cabin and Happy. Steve noted that and sensed that it was purposeful rather than an oversight.
"They had clothes and they knew what they were doing. Jan's team did all the work," he said with a shrug.
He ate until he was done, then wondered about the dishes. Darcy took them and stowed them away somewhere.
"Pepper, I already have all the other clothes you got me. I don't need all this. It's wasteful," Steve said.
"What you have is mostly workout clothes and casual summer clothes. We can donate some of them to make room, or enlarge your closet. You need this, Steve, if you're going to be hard all the time and you insist on not sharing," Pepper said.
Steve didn't allow himself to protest and deny things the way he wanted to. He could feel his ears heating at her casual mention of his recent difficulties. She was right. Nat was right. Thor was right. He had to deal with this somehow. Longer jackets and shirts with tails would have to do for now.
"What's with the 'sharing' thing?" he asked Pepper.
"I feel for you. You're objectified all the time. Most of us are guilty of staring when you don't want us to. I see you fighting it, internally. You want to hold on tight to your privacy and throw off the unwanted attention. It's why you insisted on wearing clothes that didn't suit you. That's never worked to solve the problem. Now that you've got this thing going on, it's going to be worse. You're going to have to get used to people staring. Blatantly staring. You're enjoyable to look at, Steve. Most people won't be able to help themselves. If you can convince yourself that you're sharing your looks willingly, maybe it won't seem like such a personal offense when people stare," Pepper told him.
"Since the first moment I stepped out of Howard's machine, I've been getting used to the attention. Didn't you see how they dolled me out while I was on tour? On film? My uniform leaves nothing to the imagination. I don't see how you can think I'm not used to people staring," Steve denied.
Pepper made a face like he was a school kid who'd given the wrong answer in front of the class. Like he was a dunce. Steve cocked his head aside curiously and waited for her to tell him what he was missing.
"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry, Steve. I'm not being clear enough. I was trying to avoid being indelicate," Pepper said.
They both glanced at Darcy when she interrupted with a snort and an eye roll. Pepper had the look of a soldier who was fixing to have to wade into a tough situation. She gave him an apologetic look and proceeded anyway.
"Steve. Your sex appeal is incredible. You heat people up simply by being in the same room. And by 'people', I mean us, as in several of the people you live with. Your friends, your teammates, and the office staff. Try not to be angry with us. It's not your fault, and it's not ours, either. This might get personal before we're all adjusted to it. If you're defensive and angry about the attention, everyone's going to be nervous and it will be painfully awkward. If you can relax, accept the attention as natural, and try to have some fun with it, we'll all be more at ease," Pepper said.
"So, you want me to act like an arrogant jerk who thinks he's God's gift to women?" Steve grumbled.
"No. That's not you. What I want is for you to be happy in your own skin, and merciful enough to accept other people's reactions with grace," Pepper explained.
"Happy. Merciful," Steve said.
It was a novel way of considering the situation. It was positive. It had merit. And, Steve could see now that it's exactly what Pepper had to do to make it as a beautiful woman in the business world. Happiness and mercy weren't all of it. Pepper was strong. Tough. She didn't let people pin any nastiness to her. She was frosty and professional when things got distasteful. He didn't know if he could do that so well. It would take some serious practice.
"Steve," Darcy said.
He turned to her. What could quirky, irreverent Lewis possibly add to Pepper's wise advice?
"You make my ovaries hurt," Darcy told him with a little smile that was half bullshit, but half blunt honesty.
Steve wanted to shake off the absurd statement like it was nothing. Just some fluff that Lewis would say. Then, the anatomical implications and similarities to his aching balls became understandable to him. Lewis was saying he was so appealing that her body had a visceral urge to procreate when she saw him. Not a dirty mind, necessarily. A biological response. Like being hungry or needing to breathe. It was a hell of a compliment, when he forced himself to consider it rather than shutting it out from embarrassment.
"Thanks," he told her simply.
Pepper nodded in satisfaction.
"See, you're already getting it," she praised him.
Note: I've got chapter 26 mostly written, but the end of it is unsatisfactory. I'll have it out in a day or so, hopefully. I wanted to post 25 and 26 together, but I've held onto 25 for long enough, so it'll have to stand on its own for a few days.