Steve woke up draped over Celia's body again, but this time he took a breath and stopped himself from immediately being weird about it. Things like this happened sometimes when you shared a bed with someone and it was no big deal when it was the other way around. He needed to keep that in mind. At least this time he knew Celia hadn't been stuck awake all night, if that little snuffle was anything to go by. It made him feel better seeing that she was still asleep.

Maybe it would be good to try to be a bit more normal. Most people had at least someone in their lives to vent to, but he'd never indulged in that. In general, it felt more natural to bottle things up and pretend everything was okay. No one could really relate to some of the things he went through, but was that always important? He sure couldn't relate to the abuse Celia went through, but that didn't stop him from being there for her when she needed it.

And of all the people he could go to, she probably was a person who could relate to some of the weirder aspects of his life, just not in the exact ways. They'd both reinvented themselves and started a new life where no one knew them. They both had a modified ability to be able to withstand physical trauma.

But even on a smaller scale, they meshed well. Neither of them liked the flash and over the top excess that sometimes came with living in Stark Tower. A lowkey night cooking dinner and just watching the lights of the city was ideal for both of them. Maybe the key wasn't that they both needed to be everything for the other person. Maybe just being there was enough.

"I can hear you thinking," Celia murmured, chuckling softly at Steve's scoff.

"I'm still not convinced that that's a thing you can do," Steve pointed out.

"Were you though?" Celia asked.

"Maybe."

"Well then, my statement stands," Celia bragged, nudging him so he rolled off and laid beside her. "Sorry, but I gotta get up. Some of us have to work for a living."

"And what was it that I was doing yesterday?"

"I don't know. It was classified," Celia laughed, wiggling her fingers at the word.

"It really wasn't that exciting," Steve assured her.

"Either way, it sucked being left behind. It forced me to think more about my place here and I don't think I can deal with how things are going," Celia sighed. Steve sat up and looked at her worriedly.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just stuck in this place where I'm training toward something I don't know if I'll ever achieve. I've obviously been changed, but is it enough? If I'm never going to be able to make it out there fighting with all of you, should I keep trying? Am I stuck on a treadmill trying to get a treat hanging off a stick just out of reach?"

"I wish I had an answer for you, but I don't know," Steve admitted. "I wasn't really the one to determine the qualifications to join the Avengers."

"Well, doesn't the role of team leader come with some perks?" Celia joked, poking his side. "Really though, I'd never want to go out there before I'm ready and put any of you in danger. But I can't keep casually training and expecting anything to change."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna go hard. When I'm not working, I'm going to train. I'm going to push myself and see if I can hack it," Celia said with determination. "If I don't get to the level I need, that'll be my answer and I can stop thinking about it. It's the possibility of an unrealised potential that I can't deal with."

"And what will you do if you can't join the team on missions? Will you leave the tower?" Steve asked, worried to hear the answer, but still needing to. If Celia was planning on leaving, that would definitely change their relationship.

"As long as you'll have me, I'll be here. I'll stay on at the clinic and wait for you to come home, so you can not fill me in on everything you did. It'll be hard at first, but I'll learn to accept it."

"And that will be enough for you?"

"It'll have to be."


"How'd you find this place?" Celia asked, following Steve into the tiny diner. He'd invited her to join him and the others during her lunch break, and since she had a last minute cancellation that butted up to her lunch hour, she accepted the offer. The diner had a 50s theme, with bright colors and loud music.

"Clint," Steve replied, looking around the space with a wince. "He said it reminded him of me."

"Ah yes, when I think of Steve Rogers, I imagine poodle skirts and rockabilly music," Celia snorted, dragging her fingers lightly across the buttons of the gleaming jukebox they passed on the way to their booth. Clint and Bruce were already sitting in one, flipping through a couple of menus.

"Isn't this place the best?" Clint asked excitedly, scooting over in the booth to make room for one of them. Celia slid into the seat next to Bruce, bumping him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture.

"It's the bee's knees," Celia laughed, knocking away the straw wrapper Clint blew at her face.

"Where are Tony and Natasha?" Steve asked, moving the rest of the straws out of Clint's reach.

"Tony got pulled into a call and Natasha just didn't want to come," Clint shrugged, glaring at his confiscated items.

"Oh," Steve nodded, glancing at Clint slyly. "What did you do?" Clint burst out with a ridiculous story about a training spar gone wrong, but Celia tuned it out pretty quickly. Clint always went so far over the top, the truth was probably something much less exciting.

"So, how have things been going at the clinic?" Bruce asked, sliding his menu over so she could look at it with him.

"Can't complain. I feel like I've barely seen you. Do you only want me for my blood?" Celia joked, flashing her inner elbow.

"You caught me in my secret shame. I've become slightly vampiric," Bruce chuckled.

"I could put in a good word for you and get you a job in the clinic's lab if you want. People never know how many vials of blood you really need."

"I don't know if I can go back to regular blood after yours and Steve's."

"I can understand that. Ours is probably a bit spicier."

"Interesting way to put it, but yeah."

"Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt, but what the hell?" Clint asked, staring at them like they were crazy. Steve had a similar expression on his face.

"Just a bit of shop talk," Celia shrugged.

"Little Shop of Horrors it sounds like."

"Good afternoon folks, what can I get for you?" a perky waitress asked, popping a big bubblegum bubble. Bruce ordered a club sandwich and she went with a Reuben. Clint ordered the biggest bacon cheeseburger they had, covered in chili. "And how about you, sweetie?"

"Just a regular cheeseburger for me," Steve said politely.

"Are you sure? You look like you could use a milkshake," she purred, batting her eyelashes. "Chocolate?"

"Uh, alright," Steve agreed, his smile getting a little strained around the edges.

"Great. I'll tell the kitchen to put a little extra whipped cream on top for you. My treat," she said with a wink, trotting off behind the counter. Steve's face was red and he was staring pointedly at the table. It reminded Celia of when they first met on the elevator, before all the chaos.

"Why didn't I get any extra whipped cream?" Clint pouted, crossing his arms.

"To go on your chili cheeseburger?" Bruce asked.

"You can have mine," Steve mumbled.

"Oh no, I don't want your pity cream," Clint huffed.

"That one sentence sounded a lot weirder than all of our blood talk," Celia snorted.

"Depends on the crowd you hang with," Clint shrugged off. "So Cap, you gonna ask for her number?"

"No? What number? Why?" Steve stammered, grabbing one of the glasses of water on the table and taking a big gulp.

"You can't tell me you didn't get those signals she was sending out. She practically climbed into your lap," Clint laughed.

"She did not!" Steve hissed.

"Clint, lay off the teasing," Celia sighed, taking pity on Steve. If he truly wanted to chat up the pretty waitress, she wouldn't stop him, but he was obviously uncomfortable and she didn't want their lunch to be ruined. "Take your jealousy out on someone else."

"I'm not jealous. I would never lower myself to date someone on the wait staff," Clint scoffed, sticking his nose up in the air. "It's line cook or nothing. I need someone who knows how to supply me with greasy food."

"I'll be sure to let Natasha know the qualification requirements," Celia grinned.

"What? Natasha? Who?" Clint spluttered.

"How about we stop talking about this altogether, since the waitress is on her way back?" Bruce muttered under his breath, plastering a fake smile on his face as she stopped at their table to drop off their orders. She set everything down without much fanfare, until she got to Steve's. She held the milkshake in the air in front of him, forcing him to take it from her hand.

"Go ahead, have a sip," the waitress pressed, tipping her head to the side. Steve crinkled his eyes as he brought the straw to his lips, taking a polite drink.

"It's good," Steve complimented, setting the drink to the side. The overabundance of whipped cream left behind a smear on Steve's nose and upper lip and Celia caught the gleam in the waitress' eye. Celia knew what was about to happen, so she had to act first. Celia leaned across the table, swiping her thumb across the mess on Steve's face. Everyone was staring at her in surprise as she sucked the cream off her finger, raising her eyebrows in appreciation.

"You're right, it is good," Celia agreed, grinning at the look of shock on Steve's face. The waitress looked like she'd sucked on a lemon and left in a huff without another word.

"Well, I hope no one needs refills now, because they will definitely have spit in them," Clint scoffed, digging into his food.

"What was that?" Steve asked, dabbing the rest of his face clean with a napkin.

"Nothing," Celia shrugged, taking a bite of her sandwich to avoid the conversation.

"That was Celia marking her territory," Clint mumbled around a mouthful of food. "If we were in the wild, she would've peed on you."

"Whoa, I wouldn't go that far," Celia laughed. "You looked uncomfortable, so I got her to back off without making a scene. If I read that wrong, I can always call her back over."

"No, don't do that," Steve said quickly, glancing back to where she'd disappeared.

"Let's just eat before any of us get into more trouble," Bruce suggested.

"I agree. One of us has a job to get back to," Celia smirked, letting Clint whisper angrily between bites about all the stuff he was busy with for Shield. The rest of them nodded along, happy enough to focus on their food and let Clint carry on the conversation by himself. Even with the drama with the waitress, Celia was having a good time. It wasn't often that she went out to a restaurant to eat, so it was a nice treat.

"Dammit, are you an idiot?"

Celia's head popped up from where it was dipped over her plate. She looked around for the voice she was sure she heard, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No one else was acting like they'd heard anything. Celia took a sip of her water, trying to tune out the sounds of casual conversation around her.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident."

Celia was sure she heard that. That was a statement she knew all too well, and said in that same, scared voice.

"I am so sick of your excuses!"

"Don't."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"If you meant that, you would try harder to be better."

"No."

"I will."

"It's too late for that."

"Celia!" Steve shouted. She blinked a few times and looked up at him in confusion.

"What?" Celia murmured, glancing to the others to figure out what the problem was. All three of them were looking at her in shock. That was getting kind of old. "What?"

"Your hand," Steve whispered, nodding down toward her left hand. That had been the hand she was holding her glass in, but the cup of water was gone. Now there were shards of glass sticking out of her skin.