Charlotte knew there was something wrong the minute Steve walked into the apartment. She'd been painting a salvaged coffee table she's found at a garage sale the week before in the living room when he walked in, quickly greeting Timber who had propelled himself at him the minute the door had opened.
She knew something was off when he looked at her for a few seconds and took a big breath before casually greeting her and going straight to the kitchen. Charlotte raised an eyebrow, and stood up, taking the paint and brushes with her in case Timber came around. She found Steve leaning against the kitchen counter, staring pensively at the half full cup of water in his hands, Timber sitting patiently by his feet.
"You are the most dramatic man I know," she said with a small smile, leaning against the kitchen counter adjacent to his.
Steve gave her one of his crooked smiles, shaking his head before replying, "I thought I had introduced you to Tony Stark?"
"I stand by what I said."
Steve chuckled and gave her a pensive look.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow and tilted her jaw. "Are you gonna spit out whatever it is that's bothering you soon…or…"
"Vanity Fair is running a piece on Captain America tomorrow."
Charlotte nodded. "Ok. And I'm guessing that Steve Rogers is involved."
Steve visibly rolled his shoulders, in the way he did when he was annoyed. "SHIELD says this is the best-case scenario, since they've had some control over what gets published." He was silent for a bit. "They've got a bit about you in there, too. With pictures and everything."
Charlotte nodded again, a bit at a loss for words, "Good ones, I hope."
"Charlotte…"
"What do you want me to say? I mean, it's not something we can control, right? It's happening, and I'm sad for you that this is getting out there, but it's not like there hasn't been intel on you or even me out there for a while now." Charlotte shrugged. "I'm more surprised this hadn't happened before now, to be perfectly honest."
"Yeah…" Steve acquiesced with a sigh, and Charlotte rolled her eyes.
"What else?" She asked, and laughed when Steve looked like he was going to protest. "Just spit it out."
"The Smithsonian is opening an exhibit next month. I guess they've been collaborating with SHIELD to put something together for a while now."
"Ok," Charlotte said, nodding her head again, and bending down to pet Timber who demanded attention for a bit. Steve, meanwhile, drank the rest of his water.
"We should call my parents, before they find out who I'm living with and marrying in the future via Facebook, or something."
While Charlotte shot a quick text at her mom asking when both of her parents would be available for a video call, Steve busied himself with making a sandwich and feeding pieces of ham to the whining dog by his feet.
He jumped slightly, though, when he felt Charlotte's strong fingers kneading at his tense muscles before he groaned in pleasure.
"You need to relax," Charlotte mumbled into his neck. "It's not that big of a deal, Steve."
Steve nodded, and stopped making his snack, putting all his weight into his arms against the counter, and letting Charlotte massage away at his back.
"Besides, who can brag that they're going to get married to man that already has a Smithsonian exhibit?"
"You know I don't like that."
"I know. It's super corny, but also needed. The Avenger's, as the media's calling you guys, are not very popular. SHIELD needs good PR, and you're the safest bet. Natasha and Clint won't compromise their identity, Bruce shouldn't really be flaunting his location, and Thor's not even on this planet right now. Tony…well, you know the kind of PR he attracts." Charlotte said with a chuckle in the end, digging the heel of her palm hard enough into his shoulder blades that Steve produced another groan before he sighed.
"I thought I wouldn't have to do the whole monkey show again after the ice, is all" He finally admitted and yelped a bit in protest when Charlotte pulled at him until he turned to look at her.
"I don't think you've ever let yourself be a monkey show-" she glared at him when he began protesting. "From my understanding, you didn't like what the government made you do, so you changed it and actually went into combat. I know you, Steve, and I know you wouldn't just let yourself be pushed around like that. So what if they're running a piece on you and opening an exhibit? You can decide that that is enough, and not do more. They can't force you to do tours or whatever it is you think they might have you do." Charlotte sighed, and stroked his cheek with her thumb. "And, as much as it pains me to say it out loud, we both know you're far more valuable in the field than in front of a camera."
He sighed again, and pulled her flush against him, giving her temple a lingering kiss, before he leaned down enough to bury his face into the crook of her neck.
That afternoon found Charlotte and Steve sitting in front of his laptop, staring at the image of her parents as they waited patiently for the couple to speak first.
"So, not really a big deal…" Charlotte started and Steve tried not to smile when he saw her dad lift an eyebrow (just like Charlotte would).
"Are you trying to tell us there's going to be a shot-gun wedding?" Charlotte's mom asked before her daughter finished, the beginnings of a bright smile visible.
"What?! No, thank you!" Charlotte exclaimed at the same time Steve shook his head in mild panic. Timber barked into his ear before he gave the side of his face a good licking, and Steve swatted lightly at the dog. "It's actually much…better?" She turned to Steve and he shrugged. "Better than a surprise child. Which we are not having. Ever." She finished with a nod, and her dad rolled his eyes.
"You keep saying that, kid." He said mildly before he asked, "so what's the better news, then?"
"Steve's old as heck," Charlotte began with a teasing smile, and Steve rolled his eyes good naturedly before he took over the conversation.
"I'm 96 years old, technically. Officially. I'm really 27 years old. Physically."
"What kind of drugs are you two doing?" Charlotte's mom asked with a frown, and Charlotte laughed breathlessly in the way she did when she was getting a bit nervous.
"We started off wrong," Charlotte mumbled to him, at the same time Steve said, "why would you start with my age?"
"Have you been watching the news lately?" Charlotte said after a silent conversation with Steve. "Specifically, have you been keeping up with the superhero stuff?"
Both of her parents stayed quiet for a while, sharing a long look with each other before her mother asked, "villain, or superhero?"
"Does he look like a bad guy?" Charlotte questioned lightly, biting her lip.
"You never know." Her dad answered. "It's a fine line superheroes walk." He said.
Charlotte didn't respond, but she grabbed Steve's hand in her own, which he squeezed lightly.
They'd had this superhero talk a few months back. It had been a passing conversation on the phone Charlotte had had on the phone with her dad, when he'd asked her if she had been keeping up with the Avenger's stuff that had come up on the news. Steve had been reading over files in the living room while Charlotte talked on the phone in the kitchen, where she was waiting on the cookies she was baking to come out of the oven. She'd told him she hadn't been paying much attention, and while Steve hadn't heard what her dad said, he could guess by the way she ended the subject with a fervent "they saved our asses dad, what would you have preferred? That they let the things kill more people just so that they could save the structural integrity of a few buildings? You can't be serious?!" that he wasn't too receptive to the work of superheroes.
"Which one?" Charlotte's mom finally asked, a resigned look on her face, a calming hand on her husband's arm.
"Captain America, ma'am." Steve answered, squaring his shoulders. "Vanity Fair is running a piece on it tomorrow, and we just wanted to make sure that you were the first to know. It wouldn't have been fair to find out later through a third party. And I would like to apologize for not saying anything before."
"Not that he needs to." Charlotte piped up, her chin tilted in the way she did when she was daring people into arguing with her.
"Did you just find out too?" Her dad asked, giving her an accusatory look, before leveling Steve with a galre.
"He told me before we even started dating." She responded, turning to Steve to give him a smile. "I've never cared much about it." There was more silence before Charlotte took a deep breath and said, "Steve's a good man. That's all that has ever mattered to me. All that should matter to you."
Steve saw his future mother in law purse her lips, squeezing her husband's arm when the man opened his mouth as if in protest and heard her say. "Ok," in the definitive way her daughter did.
Her father still seemed like he wanted to argue but stopped himself short when he saw his wife and daughter direct the same glare at him.
"Are you two flying in for Thanksgiving this year?" Charlotte's mother said, and with that, the conversation on Steve's identity was over.
"We could probably use that one for our Christmas cards this year." Charlotte commented lightly, pointing at one of the pictures on the magazine.
It was of the two of them sprawled on the grass by the Washington Monument, Steve with a sketch pad in front of him, and Charlotte running a lazy hand through Timber's belly, who was on his back, his mouth wide open, tongue out. The caption underneath the photo explaining who Charlotte was, with a small square zooming into the engagement ring on her left hand.
"The picture is so clear…" Steve mumbled, slightly troubled knowing that the picture could not have been taken from very far away considering the quality of it.
The next couple of pages were dedicated to an extensive biography on Steve Rogers, with pictures of him prior to the serum and before, and even never-before-seen pictures of the plane wreck where he had been found frozen. There was even a section dedicated to Bucky Barnes, one on his friendship with Howard Stark (and Steve rolled his eyes because he'd only technically met the man a couple of times, never enough to call him a good friend), and a section all about Charlotte, complete with speculation on how they had met, and a brief interview with the manager that Steve had punched for her.
Steve stared at Charlotte's back as she finished applying mascara, accentuating those dark eyes of hers, made more apparent by the bronze of the eyeshadow she had applied a few minutes earlier.
"Tony texted that he would be there tonight. I'm looking forward to seeing him again," Charlotte said from her seat by the vanity in their room, putting on a pair of strappy golden heels.
Steve hummed in acknowledgment. Charlotte stood up, and Steve could not help but let his eyes roam up her form, in just strapless bra and a nude colored pair of panties, her legs looking a mile long in the heels. "You know, we don't have to go…" he trailed off, meeting her eyes after staring at her chest for a bit too long.
"Yes, we do. This gala is for you, and everyone will be there." She responded, walking over to him with the red dress she'd bought the week before in her hands. "But mostly, we have to go because this dress is non-refundable, and I need an excuse to wear it. Now, help me zip up."
Steve groaned in discontent like a petulant child, but zipped her up, his hands straying a bit and cupping her breasts for a few seconds before she laughed and dislodged herself from him.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him when she tried to stray away, pulling her for a deep kiss before she could let go. "You look gorgeous," he told her, pecking at her lips until she smiled and laughed.
"I know," she said with a twinkle in her eyes, and a smirk. "Let's go."
They both stared in mild horror as the car SHIELD had sent for them stopped, and the driver told them her was dropping them of here. In front of them was a small walkway going up the stairs of the Smithsonian, flowers everywhere, and men and women dressed to the nines (and then some, if all the diamonds Charlotte could discern said something) mingling and talking to what appeared to be reporters of all types. The flashing of cameras and the microphones being passed around set up the scene nicely.
"Fuck me," Charlotte muttered under her breath, turning wide eyes at Steve.
Steve, in spite of himself, could not stop the small playful grin, and chuckled when Charlotte caught on and hit him on his arm with the back of her hand. "Stop being a pervert."
"Is there any way we can go in through a back entrance or something?" Steve asked the driver, but he shook his head and told them he had strict orders that the Captain had to walk and do some press time.
Charlotte's phone went off in that instant and she only answered it after checking the caller ID and telling Steve it was Tony.
"I have it in good authority that the car obstructing my grand entrance happens to be yours, so get a move on, Sweetcheeks." Steve heard Tony say over the phone.
Charlotte rolled her eyes and hung up, not even dignifying the call with an answer. Her phone started ringing immediately after, but she pointedly ignored it.
They sat in silence for a minute or two until the driver cleared his throat and told them they had to get going.
Steve squeezed Charlotte's hand in his, grabbed the back of her neck and gave her a tender kiss, whispering, "you really do look gorgeous."
"You do too," she mumbled back with a smile, pecked his lips once more, and declared, "ready when you are, Captain."
He took a deep breath, and got out, adjusting his jacket, before he extended his arm out for his fiancée.
"We should've done shots before this," she leaned over and whispered in his ear, both making their way up a few steps to meet a vaguely familiar SHIELD agent that was waving them over to one of the reporters.
"Captain, this is Christine Everhart with Vanity Fair," the agent said by way of greeting. "she'll be conducting a brief interview right now, anyone else you talk to tonight will be up to you."
"And optional," Steve said with severity, staring down the agent, who nodded quickly. "Steve Rogers, ma'am. And this is my fiancée, Charlotte Owens." Charlotte smiled, and extended her hand after Steve was done shaking the reporter's.
"So pleased to meet you!" Christine said with a wide smile, before she dropped it, "now, let's get down to the point, since we only have a few minutes of your time, Captain, and we are dying to get to know you better. First question, why now? You've been unfrozen for a while now, so why come out now, of all times?"
"It's not so much that I wanted to come out into the public now, and you know that miss Everhart. You're magazine made sure I did." Steve answered with a severe tone that left no one guessing about his feelings towards the magazine as a whole.
"Certainly, though, it's easy to guess that perhaps this was the right timing for the Captain of the so-called Avengers to come out and save face. It's troubling times, and the Avengers are not well liked. It would have only made sense that their leader to give us some good PR." Christine said, punctuating her statement with a dry smile.
"Even though you didn't ask a question, I get the distinct feeling that you already have your mind made up about whatever it is you are trying get at." Charlotte interjected with an annoyed frown before Steve could even say anything.
Everhart turned her attention to Charlotte and blinked as if she had forgotten she had been standing next to Steve all along. A fake smile spread across her lips, "You look great, miss Owens. What are you wearing tonight, if I may ask?"
"A dress," Charlotte answered, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.
Christine let out a laugh, but was stunned shut when Tony Stark walked up to them, telling the approaching SHIELD agent to scram, before Happy grabbed the protesting agent by the scruff and hauled him away.
"Cynthia! It has not been long enough, darling." Tony exclaimed, spreading his arms out, and turning, mumbling to the couple to go, before he swooped up to Christine and enveloped her in a one arm hug.
Steve quickly guided Charlotte with a calming hand on the small of her back, smiling tightly and waving at the remaining reporters and cameras pointed their way until they reached the entrance and ducked inside. Happy nodded at them from his station by the door, and Charlotte smiled wide at him, thanking him with a kiss on the cheek and bear hug as a greeting.
"Missed you, Happy." She said as she let go, and waved at him good bye.
"It's nice to see you again, miss Owens." Happy said, his face hard in his typical way.
"Thanks, Happy," Steve said, patting the man in the arm. Happy nodded at them, and the couple kept on walking with the throng of people making their way through the lobby.
"What is this? Food for ants?!" Charlotte whispered furtively under her breath, nudging at Steve, and pointing indignantly at the plates in front of them.
"I get that reference," Steve said with a chuckle, and high fived Charlotte under the table. "I'll buy you a burger after this." He added, "and maybe ten for me." He lamented.
They'd gotten separated some time after dinner, after the few speeches given by donors, and the one given by Tony, who treated it as a platform to talk about the tribulations of trying to teach a geriatric about social media and the wonders of text messaging. Steve smiled calmly, but made sure to text him an emoji flipping the genius off under the table. Take that, Stark.
It was about half an hour later, when Steve found himself amongst a group of donors that the director of the Smithsonian had helpfully (and a tad too insistently) pointed out, mentioning their generosity and how great it would be for Steve to talk with them for a few, that he spotted his lady in red across the room.
Charlotte was laughing at something Tony had said, leaning against a pillar, a glass of champagne in one hand, the other holding the gold clutch she had chosen for the night. He saw Charlotte compose herself, throw that hair of hers (in a long bob still, but thick and voluminous all the same) back with a careless flip of her hair, before she leaned down, whispered something into Tony's ear, and laughed along with the engineer.
And Steve could be jealous, he really could, but he knew Charlotte was not flirting, and if Tony was, he knew it was harmless. So he let the thought go (although it lingered in the back of his head because he was a man still), and mumbled his excuses, before he walked over to the laughing couple.
Charlotte smiled wide when she saw him approach them and offered her flute. "I've got work tomorrow." She said and motioned for him to drink it.
"Speaking of," Tony interjected, his eyes focused on the phone in front of him, where he was furiously typing away. "Where are you working, again?"
"A law office," she said, leaning against Steve's side, who had grabbed her by the waist when he was near enough. "I get to help put together cases for people that are, in my opinion, totally guilty of corruption 95% of the time. But, it's a job, and I can't complain, and the team has won almost every single case they've take on, so..."
Tony hummed, shutting his phone off in that dramatic way that only Tony Stark could pull off, and directed severe eyes at her. "I need an assistant. Don't even have to live anywhere near New York. All expenses paid when we travel."
"Are you offering me the job, or are you simply stating your needs right now?" Charlotte asked, taking the half empty flute of champagne from Steve and downing it.
"You can start tomorrow." Tony responded, eyeing her from underneath his tinted glasses.
"I gotta give my two weeks. I can start then."
"Deal." He extended his hand out, shook hers, and mock saluted Steve. "My people will be in contact."
"Of course. Your people call my people, I know the drill" Charlotte said with a grin and laughed when the genius threw her a bemused look over his shoulder before he disappeared into the crowd.
"I got a better job." Charlotte said, giving him a wide, giddy smile.
And Steve could've acted a bit like a dick, because a small part of him wanted to. She had a job in DC, she was home when he got back from wherever he was, and he never had to guess. A new job as an assistant to Stark would mean she probably would be gone too, and their schedules might not coincide as much as he would like them to coincide.
But he remembered his vows to her. He might not be able to promise that he would come home every time he went into the field, but he promised he would be her number one fan. And the concept of home? Well, hadn't he already reminded himself that she was home, not the material things they had in their four walls? As long as she was breathing, as long as she wanted him, she would be his home always.
And if the giddy smile, and bright eyes told him anything, she would always be home-and he would make damn sure that she was happy. Always.
So he smiled, pulled her close, and said, "I heard, miss Hotshot."
"What da'ya say about ditching this joint, Hot Stuff? You still owe me a burger," She said, a hand smoothing down the front of his tuxedo jacket.
"Lead the way, doll." He said, knowing that he would follow her anywhere she led him. Always.