Walking into the apartment, April's nose crinkles. It's cold, and empty, save for an air mattress and a couple of pots and pans stacked on the counter.
She peeks in every room, then in the fridge, which is empty, as well as the cabinets. She huffs, and drops her bag by the door, and steps out of her shoes.
"Fine. This is fine. Its not like I'm brought here against my will and then get treated like shit, oh no. Not that," she rants quietly. April walks into the bathroom, and peels her sweatshirt off, then her socks. She drops them on the sink, making a mental note to see if her new home has a washer/dryer unit.
She cranks the shower on, and steps under the warm spray, a sigh of relief escaping from her lips. Even without shampoo, it feels glorious to scrub away the grime.
A short time later, she steps out. Forgoing the jeans, she pulls her underwear on, and tee shirt, dumping everything else but her sweatshirt in the washer. April starts it, and grabs her bag once more, balling up her sweatshirt for a pillow, and settling on the air mattress.
She glances out the dark window, a yellow glow in the bottom from a street lamp. She frowns.
Pulling out her phone, she plugs it in. It somehow managed to connect to this universe's cell towers, so April has full access to everything she had before. The only downside, none of the contacts in her phone existed anymore, and neither did the people she followed on social media.
But, she could still play Candy Crush. Just as addicting as it had been the day it came out.
April plays for a short while, then read a few comics. She checks what other things she had in her bag. A few hundred dollars, which would come in handy, the keys to her old apartment (the land lord was going to be pissed), a few things for work, and a flashlight.
She places it all back, and lays her head on her sweatshirt, shivering slightly in the cold room. Without a blanket, this was going to be a long night.
April awoke the next morning to her six AM alarm blaring. She slapped her hand over the face of her phone, and rolled off the mattress.
She changed the clothes to the dryer, and started it. Ignoring the grumbling of her stomach, she swished her mouth with water, seeing as she had no toiletries. That was going to need to change.
She was just pulling her pants on when a knock to her door resonated through her new home. Pulling the door open, she half smiled up at the Captain.
"I would say come on in and make yourself at home, but there's not really anything to make yourself at home on," April says, letting him pass. He has to turn to keep his shoulders from bumping into her or the door, but once he's inside, he stops dead in his tracks.
His gaze scans around the apartment, to her measly possessions. His fingers tapped on his leg, and he looked down at the woman.
"This is all they set you up with?" He asks. She nods with a shrug.
"No food either. I was hoping that we could maybe change that this morning? I'm in desperate need of a cup of coffee."
As she watches him look back out, she thinks she can discern the slightest flicker of anger in his eyes, but that thought is quickly pushed from her mind. He gently grips her elbow, and directs her to get her shoes, and anything else she needs for the day. So she grabs her entire bag.
"Come on," he says with a gruff quietness. She follows him out the door, shutting and locking it behind her. Instead of turning left to go towards the buildings exit, he turns right, towards his own home.
April enters behind him, into an apartment that she had seen many times before, but always from behind a screen. She stares at the chair that Director Fury will sit in two years from now, getting shot by Bucky Barnes.
"Something wrong?" He asks, moving to his kitchen. April looks up at him and shakes her head with a failed attempt at a calm demeanor. He doesn't ask more, so she doesn't elaborate, he only pulls a couple mugs from the cabinet.
"How do you take your coffee?" He asks, shoveling coffee grinds into the coffee maker.
"Milk, but only a little," she says. He nods and pulls the carton from the refrigerator. He sets to work on preparing everything, and April stands awkwardly in the entrance.
"If you go into the hall cabinet, you can find some spare sheets and toiletries. Pillows are on the top shelf," he speaks, pointing down the hall with the spoon in his hand.
She begins to object, but he shushes her. She can tell he is annoyed, so she doesn't resist. She drops her bag by the door, and goes off to find the items.
Opening the thin door, she pauses.
"Does it matter what sheets I take?"
"No, and take whatever you need that's in there. I've got more than enough for just me."
She shrugs and tugs a set of navy blue sheets, fitted and not, from a shelf. It takes some effort, and nearly falling off her toes, to get a pillow, but she eventually does.
"I'm going to bring these back, if that's alright?" He nods, and April promises to return shortly.
When she does, he's holding out a coffee mug to her, which she takes greedily. It scalds her tongue and throat as it goes down, but she doesn't care. April hadn't had the god's juice in nearly two weeks. Aka too damn long.
"Thank you," she says, making eye contact with him.
She's struck with the realization of how beautiful his eyes really are. Of course, she had seen them a million times before, but never this close. Never like this.
She shuts her mouth and could feel her face warming. He gives April a little smile, scratching his forehead. His nervous tick.
"Your welcome. It's the least I could do for Shield's shit hospitality," he explains. He sinks into one of the chairs around his table, and she does the same.
They drink the dark liquid in silence, occasionally looking around. Looking at anything but each other.
Steve takes both mugs and sticks them in the sink, before she stands, and grabs her bag. He turns to April, hand poised on the doorknob.
"Where to first?" He asks. She thinks for a moment, devising a game plan for the morning that will work around her budget. She taps her chin and lays one arm over her chest.
"Do you have Goodwill? Salvation Army?"
"Don't think so?"
"Any sort of thrift store?" April asks, and he nods.
"Alright, there first, then to a pharmacy, and grocery store." Steve nods and opens the door into the outside hallway. He lets her pass first, and she starts walking down the hall before she freezes.
"You should probably go first," April speaks to him, crossing her arms bashfully. He locks the door with a chuckle and moves past.
" I'm going to need to do something for money," she mumbles to herself. Steve catches it. Damn him and his super hearing.
"Shield has a position lined up for you, if you're willing to accept it. If not, I'm sure we could find something more suited to you," he offers. April stops walking, and he teeters on the stairs as he turns to face her.
Working for Shield? What a dream job that would be. Big secret organization, kicking ass in the government. On the other hand, Hydra corruption, and the possibility of a shitty position.
She could end up as a desk jockey, which she did not want to do again. She could also take the alternate option. Live out that small part of her that always dreamed of working in a coffee, or a book shop.
"Can I think about it? I'll answer in the morning," she asks.
"Sure, no rush. I'm sure Tony would be more than happy to give you a little help in the bank department," he replied. April nodded and continued walking, trotting down the stairs, and beginning to weigh her options.