A/N: I didnt realize how short this one was until I started editing. Oops. Leave me your thoughts anyways? (:
Chapter #20:
Hypothetically Speaking
"I think it's brave that you get up in the morning even if your soul is weary and your bones ache for rest.
I think it's brave that you keep on living even if you don't know how to anymore.
I think it's brave that you push away the waves rolling in every day and you decide to fight.
I know there are days when you feel like giving up but I think it's brave that you never do." –Lana Rafeala
Four days until Christmas. It felt like this year had just flown by. The first half being a blur of blood and bruises, then the last three months being a blur of laughs and hugs. Overall, quite an odd year for myself. Not one I wasn't happy for though. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to celebrate Christmas. I had a pile of presents in my closet ready to deliver to all the people I now had in my life. Just yesterday I had delivered the gifts I bought for the Jones' family to their house along with the usual school stipend. It wasn't much. A set of ties for Brandon, a new set of pots and pans for Amber, and some fancy art stuff for Mj. Steve had helped me pick out the art stuff since I all I knew about art was that you sometimes used paper and pencil to do it. I also picked up some scarves for May and the Millennium Falcon Lego set for Peter to use with his friend Ned. Sam had also gone home for Christmas already, to spend it with his family, so I gave him his gift early.
"Is it snowing where you are?" I asked curiously while watching white flakes fall outside the coffee shop window I sat in front of.
"At this exact moment, no, but we have a solid few inches on the ground right now." Bucky replied. "Have for a while."
"It doesn't snow in Alabama. When I moved up here, that first winter…as dorky as it sounds, it looked magical. Like in the movies." I said without much thought. My eyes watched the flakes outside land and collect. "I thought I'd get used to it and the awe would wear off, but… I still really like it. You?"
"Me?"
"Do you like snow?"
Bucky chuckled, "I used to. Not so crazy about it anymore. I almost wish I had chosen to hide out on a beach."
"I can see it." I grinned at the mental picture. "Wide brimmed straw hat, mixed drink in a coconut, board shorts, and the sunlight glinting off that badass arm. Don't forget your sunscreen."
Bucky let out a bark of laughter. I had noticed that the more we talked the more he laughed. The first few conversations we had he could do that deep chuckle, but after a week of talking to him he felt like he was in a better mood. I made it my mission in life to try and make him laugh anytime we got on the phone together. A guy like him, with the darkness he's had to endure, he could use a little laughter in his life. He deserved it.
"I like the sound of your laugh." I said aloud. My eyes widened slightly at my own words. Why did I just say these things? Why couldn't I have an internal filter like normal human beings?
"You flirting with me, doll?" Bucky asked slyly.
I smirked to myself, "Hah, you wish."
"Maybe I do."
My cheeks felt warm and I glanced around the coffee shop as if anyone would be watching me right now. I lifted my half empty mug and took another sip of the coffee I had ordered nearly an hour ago. It was cold now, but I didn't care.
"Hey, Bucky?" I asked and he hummed. "Do you think we would've been friends if we met in 1940?"
"What makes you ask that?"
I shrugged and buried my chin in the scarf I still wore, "I don't know. Just curious."
"Doll, if we had met in 1940, I would've tried to sweep you off your feet."
I let out a small laugh, "Me? Really? There's no way I wouldn't be just as big of a disaster in the 40s as I am now."
"Oh, I would hit on anything that moved back then." Bucky replied.
"That makes more sense."
"But you wouldn't have given me the time of day." He chuckled to himself.
My jaw fell open in surprise, "Now that is a joke. You're joking." He hummed an argument and I continued, "The first thing my busted brain said to you was something along the lines of 'you have pretty eyes' and you think…"
"I'm serious." Bucky said. "My hair was shorter back then, I used to be pretty charismatic, and I'd use my Army Service Uniform to try and show off—"
I laughed loudly, "If that is your argument as to why I would blow you off…buddy, you are not winning this argument. Uniforms make me weak in the knees."
"I'll have to keep that in mind." Bucky mumbled in amusement. He continued, "But, nah, I would've hit you with one of my lame lines and—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." I blurted out. "Say it."
"Say it? Now?"
"I need the full picture, Barnes." I scoffed and leaned my elbows on the table I was talking at, "Right now. Woo me, soldier."
"Alright." Bucky said softly. There was a pause, and I had hoped I hadn't crossed a line and pushed him into doing something that made him uncomfortable. I was only joking. Before I could say that though, he cleared his throat and spoke in a quieter, still just as husky voice, "Doll, I wanna do things so wild with you that I don't even know how to say 'em."
My face went bright red. I knew it did. Hell, I could feel it. I was radiating enough heat that if I stepped outside I'd melt the top layer of frost and snow within a ten foot radius of myself. It was hardly even the words. His voice alone… Jesus Christ, the universe made men different back then because hot damn.
"You still there, doll?" Bucky chuckled.
"Wow. Ok. Hoo boy." I said slowly and cleared my own throat. I took a sip of my cold coffee, "I, uh, I'm gonna give you the win. I'd say Bucky Barnes in his Army greens with that pickup line would have 40s me melting into a puddle. If you spent the time to mop me up, then you could easily carry me away."
Bucky let out another laugh, "No, no. You're biased right now. You met me as Toska."
"I got to know you, dumbass, I didn't just get to know your fake name."
"Trust me, Aj." Bucky said. "I would've walked up to you in the dance hall or bar, dropped that line at your feet, and you would've decked me in the face. And, that'd be it. I'd be a goner."
"Ok, firstly, I do not just go swinging wildly." I replied though I knew it was a lie. If a stranger, no matter how good looking, hit me up with a pickup line while I was minding my business, I would've decked him into the next era. "And also, is that it? Is that what gets you going? Getting punched in the face?"
Bucky chuckled, "I had it too easy back then. Like I said, I was charismatic. Charming, even."
"Yeah, because you're just a real charm black hole right now." I mumbled.
"Back then, I never met a dame like you." Bucky said softly. "Someone who's so—"
"Annoying? Obnoxious? Stubborn? Temperamental?" I suggested.
Bucky let a beat pass between us before he answered, "No. Strong willed. Passionate. Bold." I let my finger circle the rim of my mug. He let out a small sigh before speaking up again, it sounded like he was mostly speaking to himself, "You're worth more than a cheap chat up line from a guy who thought he was hot stuff."
"Hmm", I said slowly, "I think I would've liked you eventually. Maybe I would've decked you, but…You have a good heart. I found it in this era, I think I'd see it in that one too."
Bucky let out a chuckle, but it was one of the sad ones I didn't like, "I think you give me too much credit, doll."
"I don't think you give yourself enough."
For a minute, the two of us sat in comfortable silence. I watched the snow drift down and collect on the outside, iron patio furniture. In another time, in another place. Hypotheticals were fun, but they were just hypothetical.
Clint picked up the box again but dropped it when he heard Natasha yell at him from the kitchen. Two boxes had come in for Aj, both from Rosie. He wanted to immediately know what was in them, but according to the others that was illegal and rude or something. He just wanted to peek. Just a little.
The elevator doors opened, and he saw Aj walk in, hair covered in snowflakes. The snowy look fit right in with the bright, cheerful Christmas decorations that filled the penthouse. Tony had people come in over the weekend and put everything up including a giant, decorated Christmas tree. Clint was still trying to find a way to sneak mistletoe in for obvious reasons. Tony was his only obstacle at this point.
"Aj! Come!" Clint ushered her over.
With a curious look, Aj jogged over to the dining room table. Her eyes landed on the boxes in front of him, "What's this?"
"Rosie sent you boxes. Open them now."
"Nosy." Aj chirped with a grin. She grabbed the long, rectangular box first. Aj looked for an edge to open, and when she couldn't find it, he pulled out a knife and slide it across the tape. Aj gave him a look of confusion, "Why do you wanna see my boxes so bad?"
Clint nodded, "You nailed it the first time. I'm nosy."
Aj accepted that answer and opened the box only to find more confusion. Clint peered over her shoulder at the red, white, and blue outfit inside the box. Aj pulled it out to hold it up and Clint immediately recognized it as the outfits the Captain America dancers would wear back in the 40s.
"What the hell?" Aj said slowly. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and dialed a number. She tossed the rather revealing outfit back into the box, but Clint was quick to pick it back up. "Granny? Hey! I just got your packages." There was a beat of silence. "Yeah, what's up with the stripper outfit?"
Clint snatched the phone out of her hand and hit speaker with a wide grin. Aj shot him a glare but didn't correct him. Rosie's voice filled the air around them, "It is not a stripper outfit, Aimee Jane!"
"It's the USO dancer outfits from the 40s. Cap's girls or whatever." Clint said.
"Yes, exactly!" Rosie chirped. "Thank you, Clint. It's a real one, from that era, and I thought Steve might want to keep it."
Aj shook her head, "Eh, I don't think he'll fit into it, Granny."
Clint could almost hear the older woman rolling her eyes. Rosie scoffed, "It's a relic, Aimee Jane."
"Why do you have it?"
"I wasn't always old, you know. I was young and pretty once."
"I know that, Granny. I've seen the pictures. You were a babe. Still are." Aj replied, "I meant, why did you have a Captain America dancer girl relic?" There was a beat of silence before Aj smirked, "Oh my God, you've worn this before, haven't you?"
Rosie gasped, "It was one time ages ago! I just thought Steve Rogers might like to see something from his time."
"Yeah, yeah." Aj chuckled, "When are you getting here tomorrow?" Rosie didn't reply, and Clint watched her smile fall from her face. Aj spoke up again, "Granny?"
Rosie sighed, "There was an emergency."
"What? Are you ok? Granny?"
"I'm fine, dear. I'm fine." Rosie said quickly. "The emergency was…Aubrey." Aj's entire body stiffened beside him. She sucked in a sharp breath and Rosie continued, "About two weeks ago, she asked me to watch her kids for her. She said there was an emergency with her husband and just left."
Aj's eyes darted back and forth in thought, "Is she ok, Granny?"
Clint shot Aj a look that the woman ignored or didn't notice. There was such tender care in the way Aj asked the question. The way a sister would ask about a sister in a normal relationship. No heat or pain or malice. Just concern.
"She says she's fine. I don't know why she left all of a sudden." Rosie replied, "But now I have to stay in Summerbrooke with the kids."
"Ok, I understand." Aj said firmly, biting back her disappointment, "I'll mail you your gifts and facetime you on Christmas. I wish you could be here, Granny."
Rosie sighed, "I know, dear. I'm so sorry, but the kids need me here. They're so young."
Clint didn't mention his opinion that their mother should be there with them or let slip the dig he had in mind at Aj's sister's decision-making skills. Aj spoke to Rosie a little longer, the joy Aj had on her face when she first walked in dulled now. Rosie told her the second box was filled with sweaters for her and all the Avengers. While they spoke, Clint opened the box for Aj. The sweaters were atrocious, and he loved them. They were Avengers themed ugly Christmas sweaters. His was a purple and black with stitched arrows and decorating it. Natasha's was black and red with the hourglass design.
Aj hung up with Rosie and she picked up the sweater meant for her. It was white, blue, and gray with the big fancy Avengers 'A' in the center. Clint pulled on his sweater over his shirt and nodded at her, "Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Wow. You're asking me if you can ask me?" Aj chuckled. "This must be bad."
"If your sister had something happen, and she asked you for a favor…reached out to you and asked for help out of the blue…" Clint nodded once, "You would do it wouldn't you?"
Aj didn't speak at first. She stared down at the sweater in her hands, letting her thumbs rub over the soft material. She glanced back up and met his gaze, "Yeah. I would. She's my sister, Clint."
"She abandoned you." Clint said firmly.
"I know, but…I love her." Aj said. There was misery in her voice, "I don't trust her. I don't think I ever can, but—but she's blood. I've always taken care of her, Clint. I don't think I could just stop. Not if she asked me."
Clint shook his head and reached out to pull her into his side, "You're too good, kid. I think it'd do you good to be a little more selfish sometimes."
Aj wrapped her arm around him and rolled her eyes, "Whatever." She felt the skirt of the USO dancer outfit again, "What are we gonna do with this? Donate it to a museum? Do you think Steve would actually want it?"
"He would if you had it on." Clint mumbled. Aj's head snapped to the side to stare at him, and he gave her a smirk, "You could wear it for him Christmas morning. Old man would have a fucking stroke."
Aj pushed him away and scooped up the other sweaters, "I think you've hit your head a little too many times in battle, Barton."
"You sound like Tasha when you say that." Clint huffed. Aj gave him a wink and walked away to deliver the sweaters. Clint glanced back down at the USO outfit and slid it into the box. The outfit would only make Steve fall even harder. That side of this needed no help from him. Clint's attention would be better focused on the mistletoe.
I slammed my fists into the bag, another round of uppercuts, then let my eyes drift over to where I had a YouTube video playing on my Stark Pad off to the side. You could learn anything off the internet these days including how to be a public relations specialist. In fact, I literally googled, 'What do public relation specialists do?'. This was my seventh video and I was starting to get a general idea of what I would be responsible for.
"Interviews." I mumbled. Pepper and Maria Hill had told me both Stark Industries and SHIELD fielded a number of interview requests daily. Now that I had this job, I would need to take over on that. Could the Avengers even do an interview? All I could picture was Clint swaggering onto a late night talk show in his sweatpants eating day old pizza and dropping curses on live TV in front of the host. "Oh no."
I went back to the bag with a repetitive jab, cross, hook combo. It actually felt weird to work in the gym alone on the bag. These days I almost always had an Avenger in here with me to spar with. It was actually kind of nice. After my arms began to shake, I switched over to a variety of kicks. Despite incorporating kickboxing into my fighting style, I actually hated kicking. It was a great tool to have in a fighting arsenal. Legs had more power and hitting someone with your heel or shin hurt a lot less than slamming your knuckles against their hard skull. I had a bad hip though. Not in a 90-year-old, 'oh the rain makes my bones hurt' kind of bad hip though. My left hip was tight. I had limited range and it hurt to try to properly kick so I just got used to not doing it.
After a few strained kicks, my phone began to ring. I grabbed my water bottle, took a quick swig of it, then answered my phone with a breathless greeting, "Hello?"
"Hello, is this Ms. Aimee Bradshaw?" An unfamiliar man asked.
"Yuppers. Who's this?"
The voice cleared his throat, "My name is Detective Ryan Jones. I'm currently working on a case that I believe you may be involved with."
I scrunched up my eyebrows in confusion, "Sorry? I'm not sure…"
"Are you familiar with a Eugene and Vincent Morgan?" My blood ran cold at the names and I sucked in a sharp breath. That must have been answer enough because the Detective continued, "I thought so. We're trying to tie Vincent Morgan to a number of cases out in Las Vegas, on top of what he did here in New York, and we think his brother has information that will help us."
I shook my head, my jaw tight, "Yeah, and what the hell do you need me for?"
"Eugene—"
"Stop saying his name." I snapped. It just slipped out. I hated talking about Boss, I hated thinking about him, and I hated hearing his name. He was out of my life officially. So why, oh why, was I constantly reminded of him? "Sorry, I just…What do you want?"
Detective Jones sighed, "He has agreed to provide us with the information we need at a cost." I closed my eyes, already knowing where this was going, "He wants to see you."
I yanked the phone away from my face and sat down on the mat. This was a surefire way to kill my Christmas spirit. I had been having a good day today too. From the speaker, I could hear the man calling out to me repeatedly. I sighed and put the phone to my ear again, "Do you even understand what you're asking me?"
"I'm asking you to help us put away a very bad man." Detective Jones said sharply, "Vincent Morgan has hurt a lot of people. It was your friend he shot, wasn't it?" I flinched and the man continued, "That's just a sliver of the evil he's done. You have the chance to help us bring him to justice."
I shook my head, "I get that, Detective Jones, but I…"
The last words I said to him were supposed to be just that—my last words to him. Mentally, I swore that it would be the last time I looked at his weaselly face. The elevator doors opened, and I watched Steve jog out of it. His hurried steps slowed when he spotted me. Steve's eyebrows of worry were in full effect.
"Aj?" He questioned. JARVIS must have snitched on my heartrate and stress levels.
"Ms. Bradshaw." Detective Jones spoke again. "I know I must be asking a lot of you. If there were any other options, I would explore them, but this is all I have."
Steve finally reached me and knelt down beside me. He reached out and set a hand on my shoulder. I kept my gaze on the blue of his eyes. He had heard what the Detective said, but he didn't know everything. Confusion mingled with his concern. I couldn't help but wonder what he would do. They could make a bracelet out of that. 'What Would Steve Rogers Do?' The world saw him as a saint. A patriotic hero, unyielding morality, and a firm penchant for justice and laws. I knew he was more than that. Steve Rogers was a good man. He didn't blindly follow laws, he did what he knew was right. No matter what. It didn't matter if rules or fear stood in his way. Steve Rogers did the right thing.
"When do you want me to come in?" I asked softly.
"Right now would be ideal, but we can always work around your schedule."
"I'll be there in the hour."
Midway through the Detective thanking me I hung up the phone. Steve took my hand in his, "Be where in the hour?"
"Can you do me a favor, Steve?" I asked. "We can't tell the others and I… I really don't wanna go alone."
Steve squeezed my hand, "Anything. Name it."
The trip to Brooklyn didn't take long on his bike. Steve thought a car would've been better, but Aj insisted on taking the bike. To be honest, he had always planned to bring her out to Brooklyn. Steve wanted to show her where him and Bucky grew up, even if it wasn't entirely the same anymore. He hadn't ever expected the trip to include a visit to the Metropolitan Detention Center, and when he brought her to this neighborhood, he had planned on her being in better spirits.
Aj held his hand in a vice grip and he could feel the tremble in her arm. Steve had seen many faces of the woman beside him. He had seen her teeth bared facing down a woman three times her size, he had seen her drunk with laughter and joy, burning with anger, mischievous, focused… he had seen her broken with sadness. This though, this was the first time he had seen her afraid. Terrified. Steve always thought seeing her sad was his least favorite, but as it turns out, it was this.
Steve hated seeing her afraid.
"You don't have to do this." Steve whispered.
She squeezed his hand again, straightened her posture, then turned to look him in the eyes, "You would do this."
Steve lifted her hand in his and pressed his lips to the back of it, "He hurt you. Aj, you do not have to do this."
"He could tell us something. Something that will help the detective tie Vincent to crimes and maybe even help SHIELD find him." Aj replied with a shake of her head, "I know you guys haven't had much luck with it."
The detective Aj spoke to on the phone came back into the small waiting room they were in. The short, brunet man nodded, "It's time, Ms. Bradshaw. Only one can come back."
"I can't bring Steve in with me?" Aj asked with a steeled voice.
Detective Jones opened his mouth to reply, and Steve lifted his own gaze to level a glare at the man. He paused and sighed, "But I'm sure we can bend the rules this time. We can call it the Captain America clause."
Steve gave the man a thankful nod. The detective motioned to the door with a nod of his own, "When you're ready."
Aj stared at the door taking in steady breaths and Steve just stared at her. Facing down demons was never easy, but the fact that Aj was willing to face down her biggest one yet was one of the reasons she had grown so dear to him.
Aj was strong.
"I won't leave your side." Steve whispered.
Aj nodded, squeezed his hand again, then pulled him through the door with her. This was the first time he was seeing the man who hurt her in person. Eugene Morgan was the kind of man who looked like bad news. His features were sharp, his face pinched, and he had eyes so brown they were nearly black. Eugene's greasy blond hair was slicked back and the moment he set his eyes on Aj his lips turned up into a smug, poisonous grin.
"Pet." He called out. "Oh, how I've missed you."
Aj's fear hardened and Steve could see her mind steel itself for what was to come. As terrified as she was, she was not going to show it to him. She sat down in the chair across from Eugene. Dividers on either side of them and only a sheet of plexi glass between them. Steve set his hands on her shoulders.
"And look!" Eugene laughed, "You brought your new master, didn't you?"
"Watch it." Steve snapped. Hearing from Clint how Aj got her scars had filled him with rage. Seeing the man who caused it sitting across from him with a sickening grin did absolutely nothing to help. It took every ounce of his strength to not tear through the thin glass that separated them and put double every mark that he had put on Aj.
Eugene chuckled, "Aw, is he more than just a master? Did you put out for Captain—"
"You have five fucking minutes to talk to me." Aj replied sharply before Steve could open his mouth to snap again. She tilted her head, and Steve squeezed her shoulder, "Are you gonna spend it making the same sick jokes you always did, or do you have something new to say to me?"
The bastard's smile fell into a frown, "I see you still haven't learned to bite that tongue."
"I see you're still a piece of shit." Aj hit back without hesitation. "And that orange is really your color."
Steve smirked to himself and bit back a chuckle of amusement. Aj was a force to be reckoned with. She would not cower; she would not bow.
"I just wanted to check up on you, pet." Eugene said slowly. "I heard my big brother paid you a visit." Aj didn't reply, and the man chuckled. "The fact that you're still alive means he didn't do what I wanted. Though, Vinny rarely does. He was always jealous, you know? Mom loved me best."
Aj scoffed, "Yeah, your mom raised some real winners."
"That's ok though. I think this will work out for the better." Eugene said. He leaned forward with a sickly smirk, "See, because I think it'll be so much better when I kill you myself."
Steve glared at the man at his words and his hands tightened on Aj's shoulders. She lifted a hand of her own and set it on top of his. She shook her head, "Right. Do you plan on killing me before or after your outside break in the yard? Do they even have a yard? Where do the big, tough guys beat the shit outta you here?"
"Joke all you want." Eugene replied, "Keep hiding behind that snark and humor, but I told you. I told you, and I brought you here today so I could tell you again… I am going to get out, and I am going to kill you." He let out a bark of laughter, "Oh, pet, I am going to make you wish you never let me live."
Aj stood up suddenly and shook her head, "Jokes on you, I already wish that."
She abruptly turned and left. Steve lingered behind for a moment, his eyes still narrowed into a glare. Eugene chuckled to himself as he stared back, "Is this the part where you threaten to kill me first? Would theCaptain America ever get his hands dirty like that?"
"No. This is the part where I make you a promise. If you ever put your hands on her again, I will kill you." Steve said. "And Steve Rogers would have no qualms with doing that. I wouldn't lose a second of sleep."
Eugene's smile faltered, and Steve left him on that. He turned and hurried out of the room. Aj was standing where they had been before with her eyes shut tightly and her arms wrapped around herself. He mumbled her name, and her bright eyes snapped open to meet his. She didn't hesitate. Aj closed the space and buried herself in his arms, and Steve had no problem wrapping his own arms around her just as tightly.
"You did it. It's over." Steve mumbled in her hair. "I'm proud of you. He's never going to touch you, and you never have to see him again."
The detective came back to them, thanking her profusely, before walking them out to the front again. Steve helped her slip back into the jacket that once belonged to Bucky, and he tightened the scarf around her neck.
"I have an idea." Steve said. He took her hand and led her out of the dreary building and back to his bike.
"Any idea has to be better than going to the MDC for the afternoon." Aj replied. Steve chuckled and grabbed the helmet off the handlebars of his bike. He turned to set it on top of her head. Aj jutted her lower lip out in a pout, "Do I have to wear the helmet? I don't look as cool with it on."
Steve shook his head with a laugh, "Safety is always cool."
"Says the guy that I know has jumped out of a plane without a parachute before."
"First off, you need to stop talking to Clint and Natasha about my old missions." Steve pointed at her. Aj's face broke out in a grin and her nose scrunched up when she laughed. He smiled to himself, "Second, yes you are going to wear the helmet."
Aj rolled her eyes in an exaggerated motion, "Fine. But only because you came with me today." Her eyes softened and Steve saw a flash of pain slip through that armor she wore. "Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you."
"No. You definitely could've." Steve replied. "If there's anything I've learned, it's that there's not much you can't do, Aj."
She smirked, "Oh, I can definitely name a few things I am not good at." Aj lightly slapped at his chest, "Now come on, you promised me a good idea."
"I was thinking spiked hot chocolate and baking Christmas cookies." Steve smiled, "Get back into that Christmas spirit."
"Oh, I like you a lot." Aj replied with a soft grin.
Steve got onto his bike and Aj slid on behind him. She wrapped her arms around his midsection, clasping her hands together, and he felt her lean her head against his back. Aj didn't want the other Avengers to know about this because she was worried that they would worry. She wasn't wrong. Steve wished he could tell them though because they'd be just as proud of her as he was. She faced down her biggest demon without blinking.
JARVIS played Christmas music over the speakers as I danced around the kitchen in my red and green striped fuzzy socks. The smell of hot chocolate and sugar cookies was heavy in the air around us. It was hard to stay in a bad mood when you had sugar, alcohol, and good company.
"—I just want you for my own!" I sang loudly, "More than you could ever know!" With quick movements, I spun on the ball of my foot, "Make my wish come true! All I want for Christmas is—shit!"
The curse left my lips when my own socks betrayed me. My foot slipped, but before I could hit the ground Steve caught me with a loud laugh. I grinned at him while he righted my posture with a shake of his head, "I will kick you out of this kitchen."
"This is my kitchen!" I laughed.
"Our mission is to make and decorate delicious sugar cookies. I need you to stay on task." Steve slapped one hand into the other with a firm look on his features. "Can you man the frosting and sprinkles when the time comes, or do I need to bench you?"
I smirked and placed my hands on his chest while I bounced up and down in front of him, "Bench me? And get who to take my place? Clint Barton?"
Steve placed his hands on my elbows like he expected me to take another nose dive on the kitchen floor, which wasn't that far out there, "I would trust Clint with my life, but like hell I'd let him anywhere near these cookies."
"I just think you need to have more spiked hot chocolate." I shrugged.
"You finished yours and then drank half of mine if you don't remember." Steve said and I stuck my tongue out at him then slipped out of his grip to continue sliding across the floor. His gaze followed me around the room, "And also, the rum you poured in our drinks, no matter how heavy the pour, doesn't do anything to me."
I stopped spinning and slammed my hands on the kitchen island counter, "Damn it! I forgot about that!" Steve laughed, and I stuck my bottom lip out in a pout. "That's cheating."
"It really isn't." He shook his head and opened the fridge to pull out the sheet of Christmas shaped cookies we had put in there to cool down. The conversation topic of him not being able to be as tipsy as I was was quickly forgotten. "I think they're cool enough to decorate?"
I reached forward to touch one that was shaped like a candy cane, "Granny says they can't be warm at all or the frosting will melt."
It felt good enough to me. I grabbed the white frosting to start decorating the cookies. It took my entire focus to keep the frosting coming out of the tip to stay on the baked good. When I sloppily finished, I pulled away to look at it. It looked like a candy cane, at the very least, but the lines I meant to be straight were wonky. I was fine with the mediocre cookie until I looked up to see Steve expertly decorating a snowman shaped cookie.
"What the hell?" I cried. "How are you good at this? I thought we were both gonna suck!"
Steve smirked, but didn't look up from his task, "I have steady hands."
"Damn artist." I mumbled and picked up my ugly cookie to eat. At least it tasted good. He finished and glanced up at me with a questioning grin. I finished chewing the bite I had in my mouth, "My skills are more aligned with eating the project."
"Maybe my bet would've been safer with Clint." Steve shook his head.
I pointed at him with a frosting covered finger, "That's a damnable lie, Captain Rogers."
Steve chuckled and while he started working on the next cookie, I picked up the snowman one he finished to eat it. I watched him work for a minute or two. His face was so focused and serious as his hand frosted a Christmas tree. His attention to detail was adorable. Suddenly, my curiosity overcame me.
"Hey, Steve." I said.
"Yeah?"
"What do you think would've happened if we met in the 40s?" I laced my hands together and leaned forward on the counter.
Steve stopped frosting in surprise and looked up across the island at me, "Huh?"
"Like would you still wanna be my friend or…?"
"Where is this coming from?" Steve raised an eyebrow at me.
I shrugged, "Just something I thought of."
Steve nodded once and then he glanced away in thought. I asked him hypothetical questions all the time, so this really wasn't out of the ordinary between the two of us. He hummed and lifted his thumb to quickly lick off a spot of frosting on it.
"I don't think you would've been all too impressed by me." Steve chuckled. "I definitely wouldn't have gotten that look of awe in your eyes that you had when we met. No, 'Steve fucking Rogers' like the way you said, 'Captain fucking America'."
I rolled my eyes, "Ok, side note, I need you to let that go."
"I wasn't always…like this." Steve said slowly. "You know that, right?"
"Vaguely. You were kind of scrawny or something."
Steve laughed with a bob of his head, "Scrawny is a good word for it. Scrawny, sick, and constantly getting myself into fights."
"See?" I motioned to him with a grin, "The first and last part of that statement sounds just like me! We'd have things in common."
He barked with laughter again, "Yeah, ok, I guess that's true."
"Hold on, the correct answer was: 'Oh no, Aj, you're not scrawny!'" I replied.
There was a beat where Steve shook his head in amusement, and I finished the cookie I had started eating. While chewing, I picked up the frosting again to get back to work. At this rate we'd be out of cookies before either of us could get around to frosting our third. Only a beat more passed before Steve chuckled again.
I glanced up to see he had continued to stare at me. With a smile, I tilted my head and he spoke, "I think I would've actually been in awe of you."
"Scrawny Steve looked up to idiots who didn't know when to shut up?" I questioned.
He opened his mouth, stopped himself, then let out a small breath of air. Steve took in a deep breath and restarted, "You're a gorgeous dame picking fights and standing up to assholes, no hesitation." I smiled at his compliment and rested my head between my hands. "Plus, if we had met…Bucky would've been there."
My eyes widened at the mention of his name, "Bucky."
"Yeah, Bucky. Without a doubt, he would've come onto you, and… I think you would've punched him."
It was honestly a little scary how the two of them thought so much alike. It was a testament to their relationship. They knew each other so well. His words finally settled on me though, and I lifted my head from my hands and scoffed, "I do not punch every person I meet!"
"Bucky is a good guy. A great one. Growing up, he was always my role model." Steve replied, "But he was also a skirt chaser, and I don't think you would've swooned like all those other dames."
I quickly shook my head. I didn't like talking about Bucky like this with Steve. It made the guilt I felt about my new secret weigh heavy on my heart. I cleared my throat, "That didn't answer me though. Awe, aside. Would you be my friend?"
"Absolutely." Steve said firmly. "It'd take me a minute and a half to figure out how to talk to you. Talking to pretty gals wasn't a strength of mine." He motioned toward me with a nod, "Do you think you'd still want to be friends with me? If I didn't have the serum running through my veins?"
I smirked, "From what I hear, the serum didn't change your core personality. While I do think your shoulder to hip ratio is godly—" Steve's face went red and I took pride that I could pull a blush out of him. I still owed him for that stunt he pulled in his room the morning after Thanksgiving. "I'm friends with who you are. Even though you have shitty taste in media—"
"Just because I don't like your favorite episode of the Office—" Steve laughed.
"Scott's Tots is hilarious."
"It hurts to watch, Aj."
We went back to decorating cookies while arguing about various episodes we had seen and the quality of each. As fun as it was to wonder what 40's Aj would be like, it didn't matter if she would've punched Bucky in the face or thought scrawny Steve was adorable. This timeframe me liked where I was and liked what I had.
