The sudden breakthrough in her assignment had Cate feeling unusually optimistic and bold, so she was struck with a spontaneous idea, "So, I think you've been handling food pretty well so far. Maybe it's time to try something more daring. You boys may have discovered pizza while fighting through Italy, but since then, New York has made it into their own kind of signature dish. How would you like to try some tonight?"
"That sounds swell," Steve perked up, but probably just because he knew food was imminent.
"Let's head back down and I'll place an order," she walked towards the stairwell door and submitted her thumbprint on the security panel.
"Oh, I thought you said tonight," he looked disappointed again.
"I did. See, we can order just about any kind of food and someone else will cook it and bring it, hot and ready within the hour."
"Why wasn't this the first thing you told me about your world?"
"Our world," she corrected him, "You live here too now, and I'm still not sure if our modern food is going to be a shock to your system or not. In theory, my cooking should be safer, but I know it's not the best."
"I like it," he said quietly.
"At least I cook better than you lie," she huffed.
When they got back down to the apartment, Cate hung her coat near the door, leaving her gun in the pocket. She'd want it on her when she went down to accept the pizza, just in case there was anything suspicious about the delivery person. It wasn't likely - she and Phil had received delivery from this place before - but with the V.I.P. on premises now, she wasn't taking anything for granted. She called the order in from her room, to avoid having to explain what a cell phone was just yet. With that done, she dug around in her purse for the right amount of cash and walked out to stick it into her coat pocket.
"All set," she called, "Pizza should be here in half an hour."
Steve was coming out of the kitchen with a mouthful of apple when he saw the bills in her hand and his eyes widened, "Oh, wow! I didn't realize it was so expensive. I'm sorry! I can try to pay you back eventually."
"What?" she frowned, looking from the cash to his shocked face, "It's fine. I've got this one. They actually had a pretty good deal on the pizza and drinks combo, plus I got a side; but it's not too bad."
He seemed skeptical, "I really hate to put you out that much."
"Oooh," she realized, "Inflation! See, thirty dollars now is really good for a meal for two. Nowadays, money is worth a lot less, so everything costs a lot more; but we get paid a lot more too. That apple? Forty cents."
His eyes got wider, "I could have bought three pounds of apples for that much. What about..." he searched around for something else, "My shoes?"
"Hmmm, not authentically vintage, but a similar style by a more reasonable brand," she admitted, "I think they were about ninety dollars. What would you have paid?"
"Definitely no more than six dollars," he was astonished.
A grin spread across Cate's face as she was struck with inspiration, "I know what we're going to do while we wait for the pizza. And I fully admit this is more for my entertainment than your education. Come sit down and witness the modern gameshow sensation that is...The Price is Right."
They took their places on the couch and Steve seemed curious enough until Cate pulled up a recent episode and hit play. Then his curiosity turned to slight horror at the flashing lights and overwhelming music and parade of fat people jumping up and down as their names were called. At last, the scene settled and the contestants were ready for the game to begin, when the announcer proudly introduced the first item: a cell phone.
"Dang it," Cate hissed.
"What's that?"
"It's our...phone...I'll explain later…" but the announcer was already listing the features and causing even more confusion for the poor soldier.
When it turned out to be over a thousand dollars, Steve gasped, "For a telephone?! That's nearly a year's wages!"
"Might take a week or two now," she shrugged, "Depending on the job."
He was astonished, "How much does S.H.I.E.L.D. pay you?"
"Not nearly as much as I deserve," she grumbled, and left it at that.
Their attention returned to the unhinged excitement of the young lady who had given the closest bid as she cartwheeled her way across the stage. The next prize package turned out to be a scooter and a television.
"Is that a motorbike?" Steve asked.
"It's a sissy bike for girls, girly men, and Europeans."
It was confusing enough when the television was described as a "3-D LED LCD HDTV," but the multiple thousands of dollars reflected on the price tags for each item left his mouth hanging open. Luckily, the next round featured something familiar: a chair.
Cate perked up, "Okay, you have to guess how much the chair costs!"
He grimaced, "Looks like a sixty dollar chair to me, so I'll say...a hundred dollars?"
"Five hundred?" she made her own guess.
It was over a thousand.
"Okay, but even I wouldn't pay that much for that chair," she admitted, "It doesn't look that nice."
Next up was a new car and this made him lean forward with a little more interest, like any other typical boy presented with a new kind of vehicle.
"Does it fly?" he asked as the announcer listed off the model information, "I was told that cars in the future would fly."
She let out a little laugh, "I'm afraid not. We've all been waiting for flying cars, but no sign of them yet."
They continued to guess their way through all kinds of household items, ladies clothing, a bicycle, more furniture, and another car before they were interrupted by the voice of the security system, "The front entrance buzzer has been rung."
"That's dinner! I'll be right back," Cate stood up and trotted to the door to grab her coat, "Computer, scan the visitor for weapons."
It wasn't until she was in the elevator that the answer piped through the speakers, "Scan complete. No weapons found."
"Perfect," she took her hand out of the pocket that still held her gun and reached into the one that held her cash instead.
The delivery boy was simply a delivery boy, and the food and payment were exchanged without incident. As Cate rode the elevator back up and filled her nose with the smell of a deliciously unhealthy meal, her heart filled with contentment. It would be another night of safety and the first night of a real development for her and her patient. She finally felt proud of the way this assignment was shaping up.
Upon entering the apartment, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of her roommate setting the dinner table, "Oh, thank you, but I'm going to teach you all the bad habits, just for tonight. Bring those plates to the coffee table."
He looked unsure but complied, carrying the dishes into the living room, "So, I assume they didn't have any weapons."
"Not this time," she set her armload down on the table and plopped onto the couch, "The most dangerous thing he brought was this meal. Pizza belongs in a category we call 'junk food.' You'll get very little nutrition, but you will get calories, cholesterol, delicious grease, meat, and lots and lots of cheese." She pulled a wad of napkins out of the bag, "We eat it with our hands while sitting on the couch and watching a movie. Welcome to the twenty-first century, Steve," she winced at the informal taste his name left in her mouth.
"Thanks?" he raised an eyebrow, sitting down on his side of the couch with a little more grace, "I'll give it a try. At least it smells good and I'm really hungry."
"That's the spirit. And I got you a surprise," she produced a couple glass bottles, twisted off the caps, and handed him one, "Classic Coca-Cola. Should taste familiar."
He actually brightened a little after taking a drink, "Now, there's a treat. Haven't had a Coke since the last time I was in the states."
"Well," she smiled, "Welcome back."
She tilted her bottle toward him, and he reached his over to clink the glass together. After a long, refreshing drink of the sugary beverage, Cate opened up the boxes of pizza and cheesy bread.
"Help yourself," she grabbed the remote to set up the movie before getting her fingers greasy, "Tonight's film will be another treasure of the 1950's. Very sweet, lots of singing and dancing, so you know I'll love it. I present…Singin' in the Rain!"
Steve's reaction to the pizza was one of growing appreciation. He didn't quite get a handle on the technique though, and dropped greasy globs not once, but twice onto his nice shirt. Cate's dress suffered one stray meat stain as well, and she promised she'd teach him the laundry machine the next day. As for the movie, he did seem to enjoy it a little more than the previous night's film, but there was still something distant and sad that came over him every once in a while. The setting was the 1920's so it could have been anything from childhood memories to the fact that he probably recognized the actors, and maybe even knew some of them, having been a media figure himself for a bit. Cate started to wonder if old movies might not be the comforting outlet she had intended them to be.
Between the two of them, there were no leftovers by the time credits were rolling. Steve groaned as Cate stood up and began cleaning up the greasy cardboard boxes and wadded napkins.
"How's that hitting you?" she asked with an apologetic smile, "I mean, is your stomach handling the bad food all right?"
"Not great," he admitted, "But I don't think I'll be sick."
"Hmmm. I'm giving you Tums and a big glass of water before you hit the sack," she called from the kitchen, "I probably shouldn't have sprung something that unhealthy on you so soon. I'm a terrible supervisor."
"But a decent friend," he added, bringing the dirty plates in to the sink, "It was delicious and I'll survive."
"I promise tomorrow we'll have nice, normal sit down meals at the table like civilized people and our clothes won't be ruined," she set the Tums and water on the counter, "Now, that's all I had for today; is there anything else you want to tackle?"
"We covered enough," he granted, then affected some kind of official tone, "I'll give you the rest of the night off, agent."
"Thank you, sir," she couldn't help but smile broadly at his first foray into humor, "Holler if you need anything. Otherwise, good night."
Cate left him washing the dishes and took her turn first in the bathroom for a quick shower. By the time she slipped out and into her room, she could hear music coming from Steve's. She was glad the record player was actually getting some use; it had been quite the scavenger hunt for her and Phil to find all of the old vinyls to go with it.
Flopping down at her desk, she activated all her devices and immediately blinked in surprise at the bold text on her phone from Natasha: DO NOT COME TO THE EXPO!
Just under it was an alert from the emergency broadcast system warning New Yorkers to stay indoors. Was there another terrorist attack?! Her hands flew to unlock her datapad and open up a news site with a live breaking report of chaos at the Stark Expo. She only watched for a few seconds before she dialed her fellow agent on speaker phone and nearly knocked her chair over as she scrambled toward her closet.
"Cate," Natasha answered, sounding like she was in the middle of struggling with something, "Please tell me you didn't show up after all."
"I can be there in ten minutes- shoot, I don't have my motorcycle! - make it twenty…" she called towards the phone as she stripped off her pajamas and dug out her combat suit from the closet.
"No, just stay put..." there was some male voice on the other end, which Natasha cut off with a muffled, "Not relevant. Just keep driving."
"Where are you?" Cate insisted, hopping on one foot as she tried to jam her leg into the jumpsuit.
"On the way to Hammer Industries in Queens. Look, I don't need backup. I've got this under control, but the Expo is a warzone."
"I can go there-"
"Bad idea. This isn't exactly an on-the-ground S.H.I.E.L.D. op. You'd need the quinjet, at least; and Iron Man is already engaged, so you'd be too late. Just keep your own target out of trouble."
"Yeah, we're safe here," she slowed her suiting up, "Are you sure you don't want help?"
"Totally got this," she sounded confident.
"Okay...give 'em hell, Nat."
"Later."
A couple seconds after the line disconnected, there was a knock on the door and Cate instinctively replied, "Yeah?"
It swung open to reveal a concerned looking Steve who started to say, "Is everything all…" He froze like a deer in the headlights, then there was a moment of struggle in his eyes before he apparently decided to stand his ground and play it cool, "...all right?"
Cate, realizing that she was still barely halfway into her bodysuit, also decided to act casual, only she was better at it than him, "Oh yeah, we're fine. I just thought I needed to go in to work for something," she glanced down at the helicopter footage of explosions playing out on her datapad, "But I don't, so false alarm. Nothing to worry about."
"Okay, goodnight," he said quickly and closed the door again.
She stared at the wood for a few agonizing seconds before deciding that it was probably something they'd never speak of again, anyway, and she might as well not dwell on it. She sat back down at her desk and plugged her headphones into her datapad, watching the event play out on the news. The S.H.I.E.L.D. communication boards were pretty scant on information, since they weren't really sending any teams to get involved. It seemed like Natasha had just been in the right place at the right time to get mixed up in this. Clint sent a quick text to the group chat to check on both of them, and Cate responded right away. It took a while, but eventually Natasha sent a brief reply as well, letting them know she was fine.
Within the hour it seemed that the active attack had been completely neutralized and then the recovery and damage assessment began. Cate finally peeled her legs out of the combat suit and changed into her pajamas again, taking the datapad to bed with her so she could keep monitoring the reporting. Before she put her headphones back in, she noted that the music next door had stopped now and she could hear Steve changing positions on his bed, apparently still having trouble falling asleep.
She watched the news for another couple hours, until it was clear that there had been miraculously few deaths or injuries and that the property damage was mainly contained to the portion of Flushing that the Expo grounds occupied. It could have been a much worse disaster, but would probably just end up as another Stark Industries headache. Hopefully Natasha would untangle herself from that whole party soon and not have to deal with any of the aftermath.
Feeling relieved at last, Cate pulled out her headphones and set her datapad aside, rubbing her tired eyes. She was ready to fall asleep any moment, but she could hear pacing footsteps coming from the living room. She hoped Steve's insomnia tonight wasn't from indigestion on account of her junk food experiment. After listening to the slow pacing for a while, Cate had nearly worked up the energy to get up and check on him when she heard him return to his room and ruffle around in his bedding. That was good enough for her, so she allowed herself to finally drift off.