"GAH, STEVEN! MAYDAY! HELP!"

The blonde solider poked his head in at my cries of alarm on this lovely March afternoon, where the kitchen cabinet had decided to plummet from its place on the wall and whack me on the head. Now I was trying to balance it. Most of the previous days' homemade cookie dough sat upon it, and I didn't want the lot of it coming down.
Steve made a face of mild alarm, and he wiped his hands down the front of his waist apron, coming to my aid as he lifted the entire shelf from the wall and set it on a vacant table. I wince as the stinging pain laced the left side of my head and face. The edge of the nail had gotten me, I know it. I set the Double Chocolate Fudge Cake on the counter, as Steve came to examine my state-of-being.

"It's split open," Steve told me as he lightly pressed a finger to the mark. I gave a low whine of annoyance, and kicked my foot, somewhat. He leads me over to a stool, and absently hefts me atop it, with silent surprise sweeping through me. "First Aid Kit?"

"The bathroom cabinet," I reply, and lean over the glass counter to try and examine the damage, only for maroon drops to hit the surface. The frown deepens as I realize this is probably the fifth time I've hurt myself in the last few hours, most likely caused by sleep deprivation.
My Ex-husband, Jason Biggs, has recently moved to town, and I'm getting annoyed by the late night visits he likes to have—or tries to have. He is a friendly man, I'll give it to him, but he's a stalker, and doesn't know when to give up.

"Woe is me," I drone in annoyance, and perk up as the front door jingles to signal a customer. I grab a tissue as I stand to walk from the room. The man is turned from me as I enter to stand behind the counter, the little girl tugging at his sleeve to signal my approach.
"Good afternoon! How may I help you today?" I ask, smiling down to the little girl as my eyes flicker to the man.

Jason faces me a moments later.

Oh, for fuck's sake, I sigh at today's form of Karma. I talk about how he annoys me for one moment, and what happens? This happens! But, the girl is new, as I examine her choppy red-black hair and soft, puppy brown eyes.

"Pyrrah?!" Jason exclaimed in his most exaggerated way, coming over to the sign of my bleeding face and slightly annoyed expression. "What happened?"

"Science," I reply, studying the way his eyes flickered slightly to hide the upcoming hurrah of annoying questions. "Do you need something?"

His perplexed face is on after a few moments, black locks falling in front of green eyes. He examines me after some moments of silence. "What?" he says, and shakes himself to reality, with a light-hearted smile. "Oh, uh, I was wondering if you had any Lemon Cakes in store? It's for Cassie's Birthday."

The name clicked. It was the pretty country girl he had left me for, almost four years ago. She had ginger hair, with pretty blue eyes and a golden heart—when she wasn't being a heartless bitch to those she disliked.
I open the muffin tray to the eyes of the curious girl, handing down a chocolate muffin to her little puppy eyes, that seemed almost pleading. She smiled, a goofy, white-toothed smile, and tipped her head as she took the muffin.

"Yeah, I got some."

I leave the room quickly, almost annoyed that the man even had the balls to talk like he didn't do anything! I sighed, and I spotted Steve with the kit as he wiped my blood from the counter. He removed a Band-Aid and an Alcohol Wipe, reaching up to brush the napkin from my face.

"Handy man, aren't you, Steve?" I ask with a smile, and the blonde man only rolls his eyes in response.

"Only if you weren't so prepared, Pyrrah," he said to me, smoothing down the Band-Aid with his thumb. I roll my eyes, as he packs up.

"Before you put that away," I mentioned to the back room. "Can you grab me a Lemon cake? I got a customer."

Steve patted his hands on the apron. "Of course."

"Why, thank you, Handsome," I say to him, and watch as his face flushes slightly, shooting me a glare. I blow a mock-kiss to him, and he whips around, and hurries away.
I go into the open area, where Jason is watching the little girl sitting by the window, who has another cupcake—Blueberry. He seemed to watch her with an almost reproachful look. I raise my eyebrow at the look, but only shake away an odd feeling that seemed to appear in my chest.
"That'll be $20.50." I tell the man, who spins at my sudden appearance. A smile graces his face, as he digs through his wallet, and takes out the money.

"Yep," he says. "Here you g—"

I yank his outstretched hands forwards, a sharp glare in my eyes and my voice as menacing as I could make it. "YOU NEED TO LEAVE ME ALONE, JASON WILLIAM BIGGS. I'M GETTING VERY ANNOYED BY YOUR ACTIONS." I snarl, my eyes gleaming. I didn't need his crap at two o'clock in the damn morning, because with this issue, I was becoming an accident on feet. I need sleep if I'm to do anything. Two weeks of this and I've just about had it.
"I'm fed up with your crap! I've hurt myself five times in the last few hours, and I really don't feel well enough to cut off my finger! You need to leave me alone before I call the police!"

Jason levels me with a glare of his own. "I only want to—"

"If this is about how we were together once-upon-a-dream, then stop. I have you a chance for redemption. A chance for talking, and you done fucked up. So stop STALKING. ME."

"If you'd let me—"

"I'd suggest you do as she says, sir, or you're not going to like the consequences."

Jason jerks back as Steve's voice drift lowly between us. He snaps to attention as I glance to Steve, the man caught between mild annoyance and anger. Probably both. Jason rises to his full height, looking at Steve with an odd expression.

"Steve." I say lightly, a tight smile gracing my face. "Lovely day right?"

'Steve, I'm hideously angry.'

"It's alright." Steve answered, with a deeper frown.

'I hear ya.'

"Here's your cake, Jason!" I say, as I take the delicacy from Steve, and hand it across the way to Jason, the man taking it without loosing eye-contact with my assistant.

His eyes flick down to me. "Who's this?"

"Why do you care?" I snap. "Good day, Jason."

"I asked you a question!" Jason snapped back.

"And she doesn't feel obliged to answer it!" Steve interrupted, moving me behind his larger frame, almost menacing. "So please, leave, and have a nice day."

From the other side of Steve, was silence. I couldn't hear anything besides the way Jason trumped his feet as he went to the door, the bell jingling as he exited, little clicks following. A sigh escaped my mouth as he left, setting my aching brain on Steve's back.

"Steven Grant Rogers, did I ever tell you how much of a privilege it was to have you about?" I ask him.

"…. No."

"A terrible privilege. But I love it. Would you like to go out for dinner later?"

Steve turned to me with a look upon his face. "What?"

"Would you? Handsome, you just saved me from a world of pain." I tell Steve with a relieved grin, honestly very ecstatic that Jason didn't get the chance to argue and such with me when I was too tired to take it. "Lemme take you to dinner."

Steve gave a strained little smile, and turned to lean against the counter, facing me. "…. Not today." He cocked his head as I pouted at him, my lip sticking out, probably farther than it should, and he couldn't help it but roll his eyes. "You need some sleep."

My eyes drooped. "You know that won't happen. He's gonna come to my place again, and annoy the crap out of me half the night."

The look on Steve's face almost seemed to mirror mine, as he looked down on me. I crossed my arms on the counter, and set my head down, breathing out dramatically.
I felt his hand lightly touch my head, smoothing down tangled curls softly. I loved it when my dad did the same, though he had huge, sausage fingers, but it felt nice all the same. I rolled into the touch, smiling.

"You… you…" I mumble, at a loss on what to call Steve as he continued his actions, and I began to drum my fingers. "I'm at a loss."

Steve paused. "At what?"

"… You, Steve. It's been three weeks that we've known each other, close to a month, and already you've assisted me in my trek to Manhattan from Brooklyn, became an assistant and help me in my bakery, repaired some broken furniture, and backed-off my Ex-husband. Ya'll got a heart of gold, Steven!"
I could feel him shift against my arm as he did, his hand resting on my head as he sat there. If he had been thinking of something, I couldn't tell, but I didn't want him to stop rubbing my head, and I shifted into his hands, and the delicate strokes started up again.

A thought popped into my head.

"You wanna go on a trip, Steve?"

"Hm?"

I glanced up to him through tangled bangs, eyes drooped and open to clear emotions of being tired, but happy. He cocked his head at me, looking somewhat confused by my question, and he brushed my bangs back to their respectful places.

"On a trip?" He echoed, and I nodded to him, a smile on my face.

"My pop's called last night, saying he needed some help around the place for a few days. It's outside of New York, near D.C., I believe, on the family estate. It's a beautiful place." I watched as his face started to register what I was asking. "It's sort of like a getaway, for a few days. Care to join me?"

Steve pulled away, dropping down from the counter. "I–I don't–I don't know–"

"Its fine," I cut in momentarily. "I'm not forcing you to go. Dad won't be surprised by our arrival. He's seen enough of my friends to know that. You'll be treated just as they are."

Steve smeared a hand down his face. "No, it's not that… I just…" He glanced up to the roof for a moment. "I'd love to go with you."

I gave a grin. "Then you better head out now and pack." I tell him, taking my apron off and hanging it on the hook besides us. "I have to head out tonight. It's a five hour drive."

Steve nodded, removing the peach one he wore. "Should we… meet up here?"

"Yeah. I'll pick you up."

As I lock up, Steve's lips brushed against my cheek momentarily, and he bypasses me to the door. I whipped my head around to look at him, to ask him, but I could see the red ear-tips and his ducked head, and I decided that I'd nag him about it later.