Chapter 8: In Which Olivia Gives Steve Her Number

I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life.

I mean, first of all, this was Captain America. The guy who could take out a whole Hydra Army single handedly. And now he was prepared to kill me, because he thought that I was a spy. Where he got that idea from, I had no idea. But it didn't matter right now because, well, he was currently prepared to kill me by shoving a shield through my throat. And he was going to, if I didn't say something to change his mind, quick.

"S-S-Spy?" I stuttered. "I'm not a spy!" The edge of the shield pressed further against my neck, now feeling a bit more like a knife than a shield. "Quit the lies, kid," he hissed between clenched teeth. "You and I both know the truth. Why else would you use a fake name and creep around this manor, huh?! Why else would you suddenly appear, having all the answers, when I end up in this parallel dimension. So what are you up to?! Who do you work for?!" Fake name? What? . . . Oh. He heard me telling Emmy that my name was Zahara.

See, ladies and gentlemen, this is why you shouldn't eavesdrop. You end up accusing innocent kids of being spies.

"No! I-I don't work for anyone!" I exclaimed, my voice shaking. I really didn't like the fact that I couldn't wiggle away from him and run. I could scream for Edward, but what good would that do? "I-I-I swear! I'm just a kid!" I quickly realized that there was no way that I could prove it to him that I really was just a kid. . .with a major Avengers obsession. There was no way to prove that anything that was going on right now was real.

He couldn't really prove to me that he was Captain America, could he? Just like I couldn't really prove to him that I was Olivia Zahara Wilde.

An intelligent person would have found some kind of smart way to make Cap realize that I really was who I said I was. An intelligent person may have found a way to break free of his grasp and run to freedom. An intelligent person may have risked everything and started yelling for Edward. An intelligent person probably would have come up with some sort of plausible lie that explained all of this.

Well. . .you already know what I'm going to say, don't you? That's right, I'm not intelligent.

Instead of talking, I—being the overly emotional girl I am—started crying. And not even the sniffle-sniffle, boo hoo, silent crying. No, I mean the all out, red in the face, screaming-baby-on-the-airplane wailing. I shut my eyes tight as burning tears streamed out of them, staining hot trails down my face. "I-I-I don't know h-how to m-make you believe m-me!" I screamed in between wails.

I felt Steve's grip on my wrists loosen. I wasn't fake crying either, I was really crying, but I decided to keep it up since it seemed to get through to him. "L-L-Look, if. . .if you let me go. . .I'll tell you the truth," He glared at me suspiciously. "B-But I'm not a spy," I added in a sniffle for effect. "I-I swear. You. . .you can go ask Edward. I'm not a spy. My name is Olivia. H-H-He'll be mad that I'm home, and he won't know who you are, b-b-b-but. . ."

There was still distrust in his eyes when he let go of my wrists and stood up. "Start talking," he ordered. It felt like the whole right side of my body was aching, but I forced myself to at least sit up. This time he didn't help me. "Okay," I sighed, wiping my eyes. "Alright. Last night there was a storm, and it was a big storm, and no one knew where it came from—my friend Jonesy thought it was an alien storm—and—"

"Get to the point," he hissed impatiently, so I decided that I ought to hurry up my narrative. "I was stuck outside in the rain, so I called Edward to come get me. There was a funnel cloud above the field, and just before Edward pulled up I saw something falling out of it." Steve frowned in thought "Was it. . .was it a black car?" A grin split my face. "Yeah!" I said in agreement. "A limo! A-A stretch limo! And it started driving up the road, all the way to the end. That was me and Edward."

He began to pace, running a hand through his hair, as I continued my story. I guess he started to believe me now. About time, I thought, and rather bitterly at that. Too bad he had to tackle me to the floor first. "And after I came home, I figured, damn, I should have stayed and seen what it was." I paused. "So I came back this morning, checked it out, and found you."

Steve sighed as if he wasn't sure if he wasn't sure if he wanted to believe me or not. "I'm supposed to be at school, that's why I'm wearing the uniform. . ." I added. "But I decided not to, after I found you. I figured that finding," I chuckled. "Captain America was an appropriate reason to miss school." Steve froze in the middle of his pacing, his profile to me as he stared the wall. "I think I saw you." He mused. "Wait," He glanced over at me, studying my face and every feature. I just watched him awkwardly.

His ears turned pink as his hands flew to his face. "Oh dear God, I did," he moaned, his voice muffled. "That was you. Olivia, I. . .I'm so, so, sorry—" He rushed over, not even bothering to finish his sentence, and instantly helped me to my feet. I just laughed it off, but I did notice that he still held my arm. "It's okay, really, it's fine." I insisted. "How about you make it up to me by not tackling me to the ground anymore?" His face was still red, but Steve laughed—a breathy, short laugh, but it was enough to break the heavy emotion and tension between us.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, I had a room to show you to," I smiled as turned, starting down the hallway again, acting as if nothing had happened. Because, really, that was the best way I dealt with things most of the time; I just pretended they hadn't happened.

0o0o0

I stepped into the doorway and felt along the cool wall until I felt the light switch—without it, the room was near pitch black. "Ah ha," I exclaimed upon feeling it. I clicked on the light of the guest room, which then showed how much of a grand, but at the same time kind of drab, room it was. It was large enough for three people to fit comfortably in, with a vine green, dark brown and tan color scheme. There was a king sized bed towards the back of the room (complete with a decorative canopy), a private bathroom, a wall-to-ceiling window on the left wall, and a walk-in-closet on the right wall. The cool thing was that it was completely clean—every Sunday we have a maid come in to clean the house.

All of it.

"Viola!" I exclaimed as I waltzed inside. I outstretched my hands and made a grand twirl once I reached the middle of the room. "'Tis zee guest room! You like?" Steve was grinning as he scoped out the room, his blue eyes gleaming. "Dah," he said, which made me double over with laughter. I wasn't exactly expecting to him to play along, but hey. I started towards the huge widow, which had the heavy green curtains closed.

"So you got that reference?" I asked over my shoulder. He didn't seem to get that I had referenced the movie, but he nodded with a smile all the same. Eh, it was worth a shot. The curtains were heavy, and it took both hands for me to pull them aside. The room was instantly bathed in bright white sunlight, so bright that it was illuminating the little germs in the air.

I brushed a few of them with the back of my hand as I made my way back over to Steve. "So?" I asked. "What do you think?" He smiled softly at me, looking extremely melancholy. I didn't get that, but I didn't say anything. I just kept smiling, acting as if nothing was wrong. "It's beautiful, thank you," he said. "And I'm really sorry about—"

I held up my hand to stop him. "You're going to be really, really sorry if you ever mention that to me again." I said, even though there was no way I could make a real threat to Captain America. I was just a teenager; what the hell could I do to him? Well, now he was a teenager too, but he still had the serum running through his veins, as proved obvious by the muscles bulging out of his costume.

Oh, and speaking of costumes. . ."Look," I began. He looked at me, his eyes still filled with that mysterious sadness as he looked at me. And it couldn't be because I reminded him of Peggy—I looked nothing like Peggy, and I acted nothing like Peggy. It had to be something else. . .didn't it? "You can't stay in that costume forever. So, I'm going to leave for a little bit, go buy you some clothes, maybe swing past my school—erm, I mean, go past my school—" I didn't want to confuse him with future/urban/parallel dimension/kid lingo. "And I'll be back around—" I had to check my phone for the time. Right now it was eleven o'six. "Four o'clock. Maybe three. And all the while I need you to be as quiet as possible, because we don't want Edward to know you're here—"

"I can do that," he interrupted earnestly. "But what about your parents?" The question caught me off guard. I paused before answering nonchalantly; "They're never home, don't worry about it. They work all the time. There's a one in the million chance that they'll come home." But, said my brain. On the off chance that they did. . .shouldn't you give him your number? "Ah!" I exclaimed. "But I should give you my number. You know, just in case."

I pointed to the dresser. "There's the house phone right there; try not to answer it though, because there's not supposed to be anyone in the house but Edward." "Alright," he agreed with a curt nod. I scribbled down my number on a stray piece of paper and wrote Olivia on it and gave it to him. And then I turned to go. It was when I was just about to pass the doorway that he called my name. "Olivia!"

I paused and turned to look at him. He was still holding my number in his hands, and he glanced up from it to meet my eyes. "This is great and all but. . .how am I supposed to get back to my. . .dimension?" Easy, I wanted to say so badly. You don't. You stay here with me forever. And it'd work too, 'cause you look like a teenager. I wanted to say all that, because that'd be the truth. I really would love it if Captain America could stay in my house forever. It'd be totally awesome. Hell, it'd be awesome if any of the Avengers could stay in my house forever. Just. . .probably not Black Widow. Probably a boy. Yeah, a boy.

But I couldn't tell him that, not without making things weird between us. I didn't want things to be awkward, especially since I didn't know how long I'd be able to have him living with me. "I don't know," I said plainly, walking into the hallway and shutting the door behind me.