Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing related to Marvel, either the comics, movies, TV shows, etc. All of that belongs to the Disney Corporation (though I might try kidnapping Captain America and Hawkeye some day, just for fun).
AN: Here's the next chapter! Enjoy, and please review?
Chapter 3: Let the Lessons Begin:
I woke to the sound of someone moving around the kitchen, and it wasn't a good waking, either –I was still pretty jet-lagged from my travels, and had counted on sleeping in, at least a little. However, my watch clearly stated that it was half-past seven in the morning, and that made me very grumpy.
Struggling out of bed, I trudged to the bathroom, tidied up a little, and went to the kitchen. I could feel the unhappy morning look on my face, and didn't care –I was determined to give Cap a piece of my mind.
The second he saw me, the dear Captain had the nerve to give me a disapproving look. "I thought you'd be up before this," he said. "The sun's been up for a while now, and I thought you wanted to get an early start."
I gave him my best death glare. "I'm jet-lagged," I said in a deadpan tone. "To me, it's ungodly early. Therefore, I am not in a cooperative mood, much less a teaching one. I'm going back to bed, and plan on not waking up for at least another hour or two."
A small pang of guilt hit my stomach as Cap's face seemed to morph into several different emotions before settling on grudging agreement. I bit my lower lip and gave myself a mental slap, my conscience reminding me that I had a job to do, one that was very important to a lot of people, most of all to the man standing right in front of me. Now wasn't the time to be selfish, though my body was telling me to crawl back into bed so that it could adjust to the different time zone I was in.
'But maybe there's a way to kill two birds with one stone,' I thought, still nibbling my lower lip.
Glancing up at Cap's stony expression, I asked, "What year did you disappear again? Early or mid-1940's, right?" He nodded. "Here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to pull up some film names, and you tell me whether you've seen them or not, okay? You need to catch up on the movies that have become cultural icons, so I'll put one of those on the laptop for you to watch while I catch up on my sleep. Okay?"
Cap didn't look happy about it. "Are you sure this isn't an excuse for you to be lazy?" he asked suspiciously. "We're supposed to be catching me up on history, not watching movies."
"Movies are part of history," I retorted, my disgruntlement getting the better of me. "Film is very important, and in order for you to fully grasp modern culture, you need to watch the movies that have influenced generations of children."
I sighed. "And to answer your question –yes, I am being a bit lazy. Given what's just happened to me, I feel that I've a right to be, especially since this might be the last chance I have to sleep late for a while. So let's get started on your first lesson in popular culture, shall we?"
A quick search on the Net got me a list of films that had come out after Cap's disappearance. I started with the most significant one closest to the time he'd vanished, and much to my surprise, I managed to find a video of it online. I let it load, then had Cap sit down to watch it, with the instructions to wake me once it was over. Hopefully, by then, I'd be more awake and a little more cheerful.
Two hours later, I was conscious and in a considerably better mood. Really, it's amazing what extra sleep can do!
After a quick shower and a change into new, clean clothes, I felt even better. I even managed to leave a message for my folks, apologizing for not "telling" them about the job I'd considered taking up in New York, and promising to tell them everything the next time I called or e-mailed. That, of course, would be after they returned from their trip to Hawaii in a couple weeks, so I had plenty of time to think up a cover story.
I emerged from my room and went to the kitchen to make myself something to eat and found a plate of hot eggs and bacon waiting for me, along with a cold glass of juice and another of milk. Looking around, I saw Cap seated on the couch, reading the morning paper. When he felt me looking at him, he glanced up and smiled a little.
"I thought I'd make a good-will gesture," he said. "You were right: you've given up a lot to come and help me adjust. I had no right to be rude and push you as I did."
Sweet as it was for him to say and do all of this, I knew I had an apology of my own to make. "Well, you were right, too. You've got seven decades of film, history, and culture to learn –it's my job to make sure you do. I can't be selfish, either." I blushed. "I'm sorry for snapping at you."
At that point, the awkwardness in the air got so thick, I could cut it with a knife. Clearing my throat, I sat down and began eating. Normally, I hated eggs, but these smelled like they'd been cooked in salt and butter, so I was sure they'd taste good. Besides, Cap had made the effort of cooking them for me –the least I could do was eat them.
And they were good. "You made this?" I wondered aloud, surprised. Then I realized how rude I sounded. "Sorry; I just didn't know you could cook."
He gave me a sad smile. "I've been on my own ever since my parents died when I was young. I've learned how to fend for myself."
Ouch, insert foot into mouth here. "Well, they're very good. Normally, I hate eggs, but not these."
That seemed to cheer him up a bit, because the sadness faded, only to be replaced by a slight blush. "Thanks; I've never cooked for anyone else before. I appreciate it."
After finishing my meal, I washed up and went to sit on the couch, next to him. "So, what do you want to learn about first?"
Cap considered that, and after a minute, came up with an answer. "History, I suppose. We both know I've got a lot to learn, so we might as well start with when I disappeared and move on from there."
I nodded. "Good enough. Come on; let's get started."
We decided to start with the 1940's, which was a time period that Cap was familiar with. It was also probably the easiest decade to cover, since he'd lived half of it, and starting slow was a good way to 'test the waters' of how to work out a system for him.
This, however, was easier said than done. Before we even started on his history lesson, I had to explain the Internet to Cap, who was amazed at all the information that was out there, and right at his fingertips. He liked the laptop, too, and being able to click around the screen with the mouse. To me, it was kind of charming, watching the wonder on his face as he discovered new things.
Then, of course, I had to give him "the talk" about the internet; warning him of the dangers online, like computer viruses, as well as the scam artists, criminals and psychopaths who lurked there, waiting to take advantage of people. I told him that as long as he stuck to well-known websites, he'd be fine.
"And there are tons of videos for you to watch, too, which will come in handy when it comes to learning your history," I said, being careful to bookmark a few websites I knew and trusted for his future use. "The ones I put on a favorites list are world-renowned history and nature sites, so you can access them whenever you want. I'll show you how to do that, and how to search them for whatever you're interested in."
Cap shook his head. "I prefer books, thanks. I'm not sure if I could handle staring at this all day."
I knew what he meant. "I like books, too," I admitted, "But it might be best to do a good chunk of learning on the Net. It's faster, for one thing –you could watch a set of documentaries and get an entire decade of history that would take weeks or months of reading to accomplish. But we'll still visit the library, so that you can pick up a few modern or classic texts, if you'd like."
As I said this, I made a mental note to ask Director Fury how I could get a library card, one for me and one for Cap. "Now, let's start with the end of World War II, and go on from there."
We quit our history lesson an hour before lunchtime, so that I could take Cap out to a grocery story. Before we went, I gave him a warning of how modern foods weren't normally good for the human body, and that people were in a constant struggle between eating what was good for them, and indulging in the things that were bad.
"It doesn't help that scientists are always doing studies of certain foods and their effects on health," I said while pulling on a jacket. "One month, something is good for you, and the next, they're saying not to eat or drink it, because it's bad."
He looked at me in confusion. "So how do you decide what to buy?"
Grabbing my purse, I shrugged. "I just get what fruits and vegetables I like, and try to restrain myself when it comes to sweets and sodas. I do indulge sometimes, maybe once or twice a week, but for the most part, I try to be good about what I eat."
As Cap pulled on his own jacket, I said, "We'll try and pick out some stuff the both of us like. If we like some of the same things, we'll get a larger helping of it to share. How does that sound?"
He agreed, and the two of us headed out into the streets of New York City.
Since this was my very first time to New York, I was quickly overwhelmed with how packed the place was. The city blocks were huge, and people flowed back and forth along the sidewalk, mirroring the traffic on the streets –well, except the street traffic was almost always at a standstill.
As a newbie in the city, I had no idea where we were going, but thankfully, the same driver from last night was out front, leaning against the car, staring at his cell. "Do you, like, live in that car or something?" I asked in disbelief. "And what's your name, anyway?"
He shrugged. "I can't tell you that, and no, I don't live in the car. I've been out here just for today, since you don't have my number yet."
Watching him reach into his jacket, I wondered if I'd seen too many mobster movies, because I got the sudden urge to duck and cover. Beside me, Cap tensed, as though he were waiting for a pistol to be brought out as well.
Much to my relief, the driver simply pulled out another cell phone. "Here, this is yours from now on. We've copied all of your contacts, texts, and data onto it, and put in some new numbers you might need."
I was a bit worried about a government agency having access to my private phone information, and a little angry that they'd transferred it all over to this phone without asking. I was also extremely reluctant to give up the phone I already had, but figured that this one was probably more secure. It was also newer and sleeker than my old phone, which partially won me over.
Turning it on, I quickly scanned through it, and sure enough, it was all there: Mom and Dad's house, my brother's cell, my best friend's number, my saved texts, everything. There was also a special category, with very generic names beside the numbers: below the word CAR was a number, obviously meaning that the number was for a driver and vehicle. Another was FURY, for the Director, and HELP, which I had no understanding of.
"What's the HELP number for?" I asked, looking up at the driver/agent.
An eyebrow lifted behind the black sunglasses he wore. "That's for if you're in a life-or-death situation. It's rather doubtful that will happen to you, but Director Fury wants to ensure your safety, given your assignment." He stepped back and opened the rear passenger door. "Shall we, Miss?"
I thought that last part over as I climbed in, Cap right behind me, and the driver took us to the nearest, nicest grocery store. Concern about my safety wasn't something I'd thought about, though I probably should have –after all, I was teaching a legendary hero, a person who would probably make enemies as time went by and he was called into action. If those enemies found out about me, there was a good chance my life could be in danger.
Part of my mind screamed for me to get out of this, fast, and run home as fast as I could. Did I really want to put my life in jeopardy for this man?
Out of the corner of my eye, I threw a discreet look Cap's way. He seemed troubled, and was likely thinking the same thing I was. Knowing him, he was probably going to try and talk me into going back home and give up this job.
I wouldn't do it, though. When my grandmother had told me stories about Captain America and the great things he'd done over in Europe, I wanted to be like that. I had always wanted to help people, just like he'd rescued soldiers in WWII, or to somehow serve my country. I wanted to do great things and make things better for people.
Unfortunately, as I grew up and looked outside of that great bubble of dreams and hopes, I'd never developed the confidence to do those things. It's one thing to dream something –it's quite another to actually get the courage to do it. In the end, I did my best to help people in small ways, such as giving to Goodwill, donating to the local toy drive, the veteran hospital, Salvation Army, and other minor things like that. Every little bit helps, I suppose, and there were people here in America who needed things that they didn't have. How could I not spend some of my extra money on helping others?
Besides, I'd also discovered that I didn't like guns; and even though I had a bit of a temper, I was mostly a peaceful person (and a bit of a coward when it came to danger), so I never tried joining an armed service. I decided to help people in my own way, and in any way I could. That was all because of the man sitting right beside me.
No, I couldn't leave him, not when he needed help and a friend so badly. Even if I was a bit of a coward, I couldn't leave the poor man hanging like that! After all, I wasn't a monster.
"Adena," Cap muttered, leaning over to talk to me, "Maybe you should think about-"
"Not gonna happen," I said firmly, but softly. "You need help, and I'm going to give it." I looked over at him. "Now that we've got that settled, think about what we're going to get when we get to the store. We don't want to keep the poor driver waiting outside all day, and I want to get the stuff back so that we can have lunch and get on our next lesson."
He looked at me in surprise, but nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips as he sat back in his seat. Satisfied that the matter was settled, I turned my gaze to the street and the buildings going by.
My shopping trip to the store with Cap was –well, a trip. I had no idea what stores were like back in his day, but they were probably nothing like today's markets. Even I had a hard time when it came to grocery shopping, and I was from this century!
He looked absolutely overwhelmed with the variety of items available, and stopped frequently to look things over and ask questions. It was both endearing and annoying, but I kept my cool and did my best to answer him. This was a bit hard, as numerous women passing by stopped to look in Cap's direction, but after I gave them my Evil Eye, they turned and left, though some glared right back.
Once we got out of the packaged items and into the produce aisle, things got much easier. There were a number of fruits and veggies that Cap didn't recognize, but we still managed to make our way through it okay. He agreed to try artichokes, several Asian vegetables, and a few fruits that he sampled and liked. I picked up a few things for myself as well, and from there we moved on to bread, dairy, and the more sinful items, like pastries and junk food.
Bread was difficult, considering that Cap was used to the typical white variety, so we got a loaf of white and a loaf of raisin bread, for toast. Milk was easy, cheese not so much –we did agree on cheddar, in the end, after a round of tasting the different samples available.
The pastry counter nearly killed us, because we couldn't agree on what to get, and what to skip. Eventually, we settled on a container of chocolate chip cookies and called it good. Seriously, with all the arguing we did up and down the aisles, I began to understand what parents and married couples felt like when they shopped!
Cap also couldn't get over how expensive everything was, even for New York. I had to remind him about inflation and the cost of living going up, but it still seemed to shock him, just like everything else. I decided to hide the price of gas from him for a little while –if he heard how much I'd spent monthly on gasoline back home, he might just keel over.
Our arms full of groceries, we made it out to the car and loaded it up, with the driver's help. Exhausted, we collapsed onto the backseats and relaxed. "Well, that was interesting," Cap muttered as we pulled away from the curb.
I blurt out laughing. "If you think that was impressive, I can hardly wait to take you shopping for clothes and stuff. I want to see your eyes pop out of your head when we head into one of New York's legendary shopping centers."
He chuckled. "Try and go easy on a poor soldier, will you? I'm not sure if I want to see if you're as determined in a department store as you are in a grocery."
Reaching out, I smacked him on one arm. "Ha, ha. I'm worse, actually. When it comes to clothes and stuff, I know how to spot a good bargain, thank you very much. Maybe tomorrow or the day after, we'll go to a mall and get you some modern fashions."
When he looked truly offended and hurt, I put a gentle, apologetic hand on his arm. "Believe me, I don't mind the khakis and white T-shirts, or the plaid one you're wearing now, but you need to add a bit of 'class' to your wardrobe. You do need to try and fit in, remember? I can help you with that."
I gave his arm a squeeze. "I'm not trying to change you, Cap. I want you to be yourself, but you do need to have some clothes that all men today possess. Who knows, you might even like some of the stuff we have today."
He still didn't look happy about it, but he didn't argue. I took that as a sign of progress and kept silent until we got back to the apartment. Together, we lugged our food upstairs and put it away, awkwardly avoiding collision until we were done.
"So, what do you want for lunch?" I asked. "Does grilled cheese sound okay?" We also had some canned soup that I'd tossed into the cart, so I figured it would be a good, quick meal.
Cap agreed, and together we managed to pull together a decent lunch. Once everything was eaten and the dishes cleaned, we plopped down in front of the TV, keeping a safe distance between us. A quick scan with the remote revealed that we had cable or satellite, so I brought up a classic film for him to watch while I did a few things on the laptop. I figured that we'd had enough excitement for one day, and being lazy for a bit wouldn't kill us.
As the film began, I felt him shift slightly on the couch beside me. This caused me to look up from the e-mail I was typing to my best friend and brother, which told them a very scaled-down version of my new job in New York.
"So, your grandmother told you stories about me?" he asked, obviously uncomfortable. I turned to look at him, and saw that he was trying very hard not to make eye contact.
"Yeah, she was a big fan of yours," I replied, smiling at the thought of her. "Still is, actually." I caught the puzzled look on his face and explained, "A fan is someone who likes or admires another person, namely singers, actors, heroes, etc. My grandma always thought you were great; a true hero."
Memories flashed through my head. "Her mother's friends had husbands in the army. I think some of those soldiers were men you saved from imprisonment, even death. They traded stories with others, and got news about you through the army grapevine. Those, in turn, got passed to my great-grandmother and grandmother, who passed them on to me."
I blinked my way back to the present. "You're a hero to me, too, you know. I wanted to be like you; a person who was willing to give back to her country by serving it. Even though I grew to dislike guns and am a bit of a coward when it comes to the idea of fighting and killing people, I still gave back by helping my fellow Americans in other ways."
Looking over, I saw he was blushing. "And I'm not just helping you because you're a childhood idol of mine; I truly do want to help in any way I can. You deserve it." I smiled. "Besides, I like helping people."
"Thank you," he said softly, just as the film's opening score began to play.
After that, we sat in somewhat awkward silence, him watching the film while I typed away.
AN: Sorry for the lack of Cap's POV in this chapter, but he'll be in the next one, promise. Review?