In the Still of the Night
A/N: Another long chapter! I'm writing a lot quicker than I thought I would, so hopefully updates will keep coming in a steady stream. :)
There is something I wanted to address really quickly before you read. There have been a few questions about the plot that I wanted to clear up regarding the hacker and the protected file:
- What happened was this - Coulson discovered that someone tried hacking SHIELD's computer, and Natasha found out that person used from a computer in the Smithsonian to do it.
- Someone also tried hacking into a Smithsonian computer (not necessarily the same one that tried hacking the SHIELD computer). They tried gaining access to a file that is protected by a Smithsonian staff password AND a SHIELD password. So whoever can access the file needs to be both a Smithsonian employee AND current/former SHIELD member.
- So basically there are two different computers being hacked: one from SHIELD, and one from the Smithsonian. Who did it and for what purpose is still uncertain.
- I know it's a little unclear right now but Natasha, Vera, and Michael are unclear about it right now too, so that's kind of the point. But things will get explained in due time, I promise! If this made you even more confused, just bear with me. And thank you to the reader who brought this to my attention.
Enjoy this chapter (and don't forget to review)!
P.S. - There are some new links to images of their outfits, etc., on my profile. :)
-PenPaperParadise
Chapter Seven: Got a Date with an Angel
It was Friday evening. Steve was coming to her apartment in thirty minutes, and Vera was, admittedly, far from ready. She had gotten off of work late, been stuck in traffic, talked to Monica (her best friend) on the phone for an hour because she had forgotten to call her back last week, and was currently rushing around trying to find the perfect outfit to wear. At this point, however, Vera was tempted just to throw on whatever she found first in her closet because she still had to do her hair and makeup. She rifled through her closet, desperately searching for something to wear – when she saw it.
Oh I can't wear that tonight...she thought, biting her lip. But she pulled it out anyway: it was a scarlet dress with a scoop neck that went just under her collarbone. The skirt was slightly A-line and reached to the tops of her knees. It was fairly modest compared to what most women wore on dates these days; but she didn't want to shock Steve on their first date (after all, he had only ever seen her in blazers and business skirts). I mean, a red dress? Vera considered. I don't know...
Although...Steve had asked her to dress up for their date (actually, he had just sent her a mysterious text that morning saying "Wear something fancy"), so he would be expecting her to be wearing something nice. And she hadn't worn that dress in a long time, and the last time she wore it she had to admit it made her look pretty good. What the hell, she finally conceded. If Steve gets scared off by a little red dress, then oh well.
So she slipped it on and studied herself in the mirror. Thank God it still fits, she thought with a relieved smile. I think this will work.
Vera rushed at full speed to put on her makeup and do her hair, which she just lightly curled. She didn't want to overdo it and looked like she tried too hard, but she wanted to look good, too. She slipped on her nicest pair of nude-colored pumps and put on a gold bangle and gold earrings. Just as she grabbed her purse and a jacket, she heard a knock on her front door and a butterfly fluttered through her stomach.
My first date – well, first official date – with Steve. Here goes nothing.
She opened the door to let him in – and her stomach fluttered even more. He looked good. He was wearing a navy blue sweater with a blue and white plaid shirt underneath it and his brown leather jacket over the sweater. He had on gray slacks and brown shoes that matched his jacket. His blonde hair was combed to the side nicely and looked perfect. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle when he looked at her.
"Wow," he said, looking over at her. "You look beautiful."
Vera blushed; honestly, it had been a long time since someone had said that to her. "Thank you. You're not looking half bad yourself."
Steve smiled and offered his arm to her. "Shall we?"
It had been a long time since somewhat had done that for her, too; but she was glad he did. Happily, she took his arm as he led her down the stone steps of her townhouse. There was a motorcycle parked right in front of the house. Vera saw it and whistled, impressed.
"Is this yours?" she asked Steve, indicating the motorcycle.
"Yes," he said with pride. "But you won't be riding it tonight; I knew you'd be dressing nicely so I picked a place within walking distance of your house."
"And that place would be...?"
Steve's blue eyes twinkled. "You'll see."
They walked down the city street a little ways, passing by people jogging or walking their dogs or strolling with their lovers in the cool evening twilight. It felt nice feeling like she was...well, normal, Vera mused. It had been so long since she had done this...since she had been on the arm of a man whom she liked, feeling excited about getting to know him and him getting to know her. Experiencing it again made her realize just how much she had missed it, ever since what happened with...well, she needn't think about that now.
"This is it," Steve said as they approached a line of brick buildings. They were on an avenue of shops and restaurants that Vera had passed through only a few times since living in D.C. (because, in all honesty, she didn't leave the museum much). It was a pretty little area of her neighborhood, with tall trees lining the streets and tiny lights from the edges of the buildings twinkling in the evening sky.
Steve led her to the front doors of a building with the name "The Victory Garden" painted on its windows. Even though the windows were dark, Vera began to surmise what type of place it was based on the swing music she heard coming from inside. She raised her eyebrows at Steve approvingly, and he only smiled and held the door open for her, ushering her inside.
The Victory Garden was a dance club slash restaurant at which Vera had never even cast a second glance the few times she had visited this part of town. It was kind of hidden away, actually; almost like it was a secret club that was in plain sight yet few people knew about it. The inside, however, was far from sketchy: it had a quiet opulence about it that reminded Vera of the old swing clubs for the elite back in the 1930s and '40s. The walls were a crimson color that offset nicely with the black furniture – shiny black booths, polished black tables – the only exception being the clean white tablecloths and napkins that added a welcome crispness to the room. Each table also had a pop of color on them, as there was a small white vase with a red rose on every tabletop. Inside, it was dim, but certainly not dingy; the lighting was soft and romantic, with candles illuminating the room. The biggest spectacle of the room, however, was right in the center of the space: there was a large dance floor made of rich dark brown oak and a brightly illuminated stage where a dapperly-dressed swing band was currently playing a catchy retro tune. On the white back wall of the stage were the club's logo (a swirly sketch of a black flower with a simple red dot in its center) and the name of the club written in beautiful black calligraphy.
Vera was floored by the atmosphere of the place; it was like she had been sucked into one of the many old photographs she examined from work. Most of the customers, too, encouraged this atmosphere, as many of them were dressed in retro-style dresses and suits and had their hair and makeup done in the same Old Hollywood-esque fashion. The waiters and waitresses were dressed smartly, too, in well-tailored black and white outfits, carrying silver trays of delicious-looking food. Vera was absolutely mesmerized.
Steve must have seen her expression because he smiled at her and said, "I knew you'd like this place."
"Like it?" Vera asked incredulously, tearing her gaze away from the spectacle of the room to look into Steve's eyes, squeezing his arm appreciatively. "I absolutely love it! How did you find this place?"
"My roommate brought me here once. He knows I'm into stuff like this."
"Well," said Vera, exhaling slowly. "You have outdone yourself, mister. This place...doesn't feel real."
"I know what you mean," Steve murmured under his breath.
A smart-looking waiter seated them at an intimate little table right next to the dance floor. Steve held Vera's chair out for her, which Vera noticed he did with hardly a second thought. His mom raised him well, she mused, and figured that tonight would be her first decent date in years.
They ordered, wined and dined, and the whole time they sat at the table they just talked. Even when the check came, the candles melted down, and the dance floor wore thin, they were still talking, exploring each other's interests and telling stories from their pasts while the swing band played tune after catchy tune. Every so often the band would play a song that one of them liked and they'd point it out, and Steve was impressed to learn that Vera knew 1940s music just as well as he did.
"...Come on, it's your turn!" Vera chided, poking Steve in the arm.
He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Um...I...wake up at five every morning and go running?"
"Great, now I feel like the laziest person ever," Vera pouted. "And the game is you're supposed to name something interesting about yourself, not your day-to-day routine."
"I guess I didn't know there was a rulebook," replied Steve smoothly, grinning.
"You can just follow my example for now," Vera said, raising one eyebrow. "For example, in high school I spent a summer building houses in Honduras. See? That's interesting."
"Well, speaking of making someone feel lazy," Steve joked, and Vera laughed. "Alright, alright. Um...I love to draw."
"Draw as in sketching on a napkin, or as in creating art?"
"Well, I don't know how good I am to call it 'art'," Steve murmured humbly. "But I like to sketch. I usually do buildings and landscapes and such, but I do cartoons occasionally too."
"Maybe you can show me one of your sketches some time," Vera suggested, and Steve smiled and nodded. "Alright, my turn," she said, thinking. "...Um...Oh! I have a terrible fear of getting burned by my toaster."
"I speak French pretty fluently."
"I've played piano since I was five."
"I've never seen any of the Star Wars movies."
Vera's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? You've never seen any of the Star Wars movies? Not even the good ones?"
"The...good ones?"
"The original ones. Don't let anyone tell you that the prequels are better than the originals."
"Um, okay," Steve replied, though still a little confused. He had only been back in "present day" for three years, and he was very busy, so there were still many things he had to catch up on.
"Sorry, I guess my nerd is showing," Vera confessed, leaning back in her chair.
"Don't be sorry," Steve said instantly. "I think it's cute."
Vera blushed. "I just really like Star Wars because it reminds me of my mom. When I was little, my mom let me stay home from school when I was sick, so she and I would marathon the Star Wars movies because I had to be confined to the couch all day." Vera gave a soft smile, her eyes lowering to the table. "I haven't thought about that in such a long time."
"You sound like you're close with your mom," Steve observed, and Vera nodded.
"She's like my best friend. She raised me by herself." Vera suddenly looked unsure about something. She spoke cautiously, as if she were choosing her words carefully. "My dad left us when I was seven, and I'm an only child, so it's pretty much just been me and my mom my whole life."
"I'm sorry," Steve said, expressing genuine sympathy. Steve figured this must be hard for her to talk about because she was speaking carefully, perhaps afraid of giving too much away. I know what that's like, Steve mused.
"Nah, don't be," Vera waved her hand, brushing it off. But she still had a sad look on her face. "My mom and I had a pretty good life together. And I never really knew my dad, and the few things I remember about him weren't pleasant." She paused, realizing what she had just said. "Sorry, I usually don't say stuff like that on the first date...I didn't realize how depressing that sounded..."
"I never knew my dad, he died before I was born," Steve said suddenly before he could stop himself. Vera just looked at him. He swallowed, fearing he was on the borderline of revealing something about himself that he shouldn't, but he felt an inexplicable instinct to trust her. Normally he wasn't one to divulge information about his past, but talking to Vera was easy and he felt like she could understand. "My mom raised me by herself too, and she died when I was sixteen."
Vera said nothing; whether because she was thinking about what he had said, or if she didn't know how to respond, Steve wasn't sure.
"You see?" said Steve softly. "You're not the only one who says depressing stuff."
Vera laughed in spite of herself. "Touché." She looked directly into Steve's eyes. "I guess we're not as alone as we thought we were."
Steve looked back into her eyes. "I guess not."
The band started to play a slow little tune, and Vera immediately smiled.
"'In the Still of the Night'," Vera breathed. "Another interesting thing you should know about me: this is my favorite song."
Steve said nothing, but looked at her with the ghost of a smile on his face. Without a word he stood up, walked over to Vera, and held his hand out to her. She looked at him questioningly and he gestured with his eyes toward the dance floor. Vera just shook her head in disbelief.
"Alright, Steve," Vera said in a way that made it sound like she was about to conduct a business transaction, "before I go dance with you, I need you to tell me one thing: do you have any flaws?"
Steve grinned. "Yes, I do. One that I told you about, remember?"
Vera looked at him blankly. Steve's grin widened. "I've never seen Star Wars."
Vera laughed – her laugh was high and clear, like a bell. "Okay, okay. It's good to know you're not one-hundred percent perfect."
She took his hand gently and stood up. He led them over to the dance floor as the slow, pretty music played from the band. There were several other well-dressed couples swaying to the music on the dance floor, some old, some young. Steve took her to the center of the dance floor, taking her hand in his left and resting his other hand lightly on her waist. She took his hand and rested her left hand on his shoulder. They swayed easily to the music, taking in each other's rhythms and matching them so they moved in synchronicity. Vera sighed (with content, Steve hoped).
"In the still of the night
As I gaze from my window..."
"Steve...can I ask you something?" Vera inquired softly.
"Of course," he replied.
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I know it might seem dumb or pesky of me to keep asking you this, but...what exactly is your relationship to Captain America?"
"As I gaze from my window
At the moon in its flight, my thoughts all stray to you..."
Steve tensed up a little in spite of himself. She was starting to get suspicious, and he knew this couldn't end well.
Vera continued: "I only ask because I feel like there's something you're not telling me about him, and, well, to be honest my curious side can take over sometimes. Not only that, but since we're working on this new exhibit at the museum about him, there might be some things you could tell me about him that we don't know about. If you're willing, of course. If not, I totally understand."
Steve felt bad. He hated lying to her, he really did, but it was the only way to keep himself – and, he realized, Vera – safe. But if this girl was someone he could go a long way with...shouldn't he tell her the truth sooner or later? Or later rather than sooner, Steve decided.
"Vera...you're right. There is something more about this Captain America thing that I'm not telling you. But...it's something I can't tell you right now. Just trust me on this, okay?"
Vera nodded slowly. "Alright. I trust you. And..." Something sad came to her voice. "I know there are some things, things from your past, you maybe shouldn't reveal to someone you just met."
Steve took this as a hint that there were some things in Vera's past that she wasn't ready to talk about yet. Steve understood that completely and nodded.
"Do you love me, as I love you?
Are you my life to be that dream come true?..."
"Besides," Steve added, smiling a little to himself, "this gives you a reason to go out on a second date with me."
Vera looked at him dead on. "I don't need you to bribe me to go on a second date with you," she said quietly, and Steve's heart soared.
"Or will this dream of mine, will it fade way out of sight?
Just like that moon growing dim, on the rim of the hill,
In the still, still of the night..."
They continued holding each other for a moment more after the song ended and the rest of the couples on the dance floor applauded. They broke out of their reverie and let go of each other, applauding weakly as they both smiled shyly at the floor.
At the end of the night, Steve and Vera chatted happily as he walked her home, Vera holding onto his arm like she had before. They walked up the steps to Vera's narrow townhouse and stopped at her front door.
"This was fun," Vera said genuinely. "Honestly, I can't remember the last time I went out on a date that ended well."
"Same," Steve said, although he didn't want to admit to her that he could count on one hand how many dates he's had before.
"Thank you, Steve," she smiled up at him. "I had a really great time."
"You're welcome," Steve replied softly. He felt something in the air between them; whether it was the stars in the sky or the way she was looking at him, he couldn't tell. Then, without thinking, without his mind telling him to pause and consider all the possible outcomes, he leaned in and kissed her. For once he wasn't second-guessing himself or wondering if he was doing the right thing; he just let himself feel instead of think, and kissing her felt wonderful. It was a rather chaste kiss, one that was expected at the end of a first date between two practically-strangers, but Steve couldn't help but feel an inexplicable yet wonderful spark between them. She tasted sweet, like strawberries, and feeling her kissing him back made it taste all the sweeter.
After a few moments they broke apart. Vera's cheeks were that same color they always were when she blushed, and Steve thought she looked beautiful.
"Good night, Steve," she said, her voice sounding light and airy, like she was in another world.
"Good night, Vera," he replied in the same way, feeling a cocktail of various emotions welling up inside him. He turned and bounded down the steps, looking back at her to make sure she got into her house okay. Right before she closed the door behind her she saw Steve and flashed him a little smile. Steve smiled right back.
As he got on his motorcycle and revved up the engine, Steve's mind was whirling with thoughts and wishes and hopes, yet he felt like his mind was numb. What was this girl doing to him? He didn't know...but he definitely wasn't complaining either. He was happier than he had felt in months. Years, even.
Boy, was Sam going to flip his shit when Steve got home.