Chapter 2: Steve Rodgers
He is sure this is a dream... Or a nightmare... He wouldn't argue with the nightmare assessment.
There is music. It's loud, and it thrums through his entire body making his heart race, and his very being vibrate.
There are a mass of bodies that writhe to this music. It's mostly darkened figures that he can't make out.
But the heat of a thousand bodies still wraps around him, nearly suffocating him. That very heat is what has alerted him to the fact that this is a dream.
The last thing he remembers is being very, very cold.
There are lights that flash and move. It's enough to give him a headache. Everything is too flashy, too fast, too much.
And then he looks up. He sees her writhing along with the masses, but there is distance between her and the darkened figures.
She moves with a grace he's never been witness to. Her form inviting him in, pulling him forward. Her hips sway to the beat as her eyes meet his from across the room.
She's short. Only coming up to a 5'4". She's curvy, but she looks to have an athletic build. Her slightly tan skin has glitter on it, he notices.
The way she moves should be illegal... he's pretty sure it is illegal to bend and move like that in public, but he has to admit that he doesn't mind.
Her curly brown hair bounces about her shoulders, never staying still, and her wide cinnamon brown eyes are locked on him even as she twirls and bends.
She slowly dances her way over to him, the crowd parts for her like the biblical tail of Moses parting the Red Sea. When she reaches out for him, her hands are soft, but rough at the same time. Her touch is like a small jolt of electricity, but it makes him feel alive.
Her eyes promise hope, and her skin is so warm... It makes an iciness in his chest fade from him. She trails her hand across his cheek, and it feels as if nothing could shatter this moment.
She presses close to him and a mysterious smile slides across her lips, beckoning him to kiss them. His own shy smile answers in return. It's a bashful one at best, he's sure, but he will still offer it over to her.
The mischievous sparkle in her eye seems to be his reward.
Her body presses against his, and she moves it along to the beat. She's almost a head shorter than he is, but his arms find a natural resting spot around her waist.
He's not one to call this... movement... dancing, but he's moving to the rhythm of the music. There is a new heat now... This one doesn't suffocate him, but his skin is left sensitive in its wake.
He's warm. He's alive... The music is pumping through him, the movement of this woman's body is a thrill against his. It just confirms the dream theory, but he will not complain.
Then all begins to fade into the darkness.
He wraps his arms tighter around her waist, trying to hold onto something, desperate not to part with his time with her. He's not sure why, but he knows he won't follow her when she goes.
He does the only thing he can think to do in his panic, he kisses her. He hopes that it will leave a lasting impression. He doesn't want her to forget him. He doesn't want to forget her.
She slides her hands through his hair, and turns the kiss wild. It's his third kiss ever, and so far, it ranks number one. He would never admit that in all his long life… or afterlife.
He shivers, his eyes falling closed. He doesn't want to let this go, dammit! He spent so much time alone, and he doesn't want to be alone anymore.
The kiss breaks. "I will always come back." She whispers. "It's OK to let me go, for now. It's not OK to forget me though." She laughs as she's telling him this.
"What is your name?!" He almost begs for her to tell him.
She offers him a mysterious smile, as if trying to decide what she should tell him. "Tanya."
The darkness claims her as well.
Iciness swarms all around him, and he almost sobs.
The next time he becomes aware of the warmth, he is in a plush red and gold office. A row of sturdy dark red book cases line the wall behind her desk, and a strange device is sitting on top of her desk, but he refuses to focus on it.
Instead, he moves to the overstuffed couch as she offers him a seat. "Captain America." She offers him a soft smile, but he frowns. "Please... Just call me Steve."
She laughs at his discomfort. "The national icon, shy?" He can tell she's putting him on, and gives her a bashful smile. "Can't help it, ma'am." He tries not to stare at her, but she takes his hand, and suddenly he knows that it's her warmth that drew him here.
He turns, and now that he can see her in the proper light, she looks slightly familiar. He can't seem to place it.
It's when he notices he's staring at her that he coughs. "I'm not sure what to talk about." he mutters. He notices that she's yet to let go of his hand, but he refuses to let go of hers. This warmth is solid, and real.
She offers him a brilliant smile, and nods to him, as if she understood that this was difficult. She doesn't look like she buys the line he's given her, but she moves forward.
"So, what you've missed... Hot dogs!" she immediately launches into a small rant about hot dogs vs. hot dog buns. He laughs through it, and can't help but to hold his side with his free hand as she motions wildly with her free hand.
He's never felt the need to complain about food in his time, but it's nice to hear her rant about something inane.
"So?" she asks as the rant finishes. He gives her a goofy grin.
"So. Your Howard's daughter? How is he?" He asks. He immediately wishes he could take it back as pain washes across her face.
"He died in a car accident when I was seventeen." She admits quietly. He feels the pain radiating from her as she softly says this.
It makes him tear up to know that a friend of his was dead, but he notices the tears forming in the corners of her closed eyes, and before he can even really think, he's holding her close. He silently admits to himself that he would do anything to keep the tears out of her eyes.
Her warmth envelops him, and he lets a small tear slip from his own eyes. It's for him as much as it is for her. For their loss. Something tells him that she hasn't truly mourned as she should have over the loss of her father.
"I'm so sorry." he whispers into her hair. He feels her fingers dig into his shoulders. It's not a painful grip, but it echoes her pain through his skin. She gently pulls from his hug.
"I am OK. I promise." She bites down on her lip after saying it. He doesn't buy it, even going so far as to reclaiming her hand to show her his own support.
They talk for hours about Howard, and the Howling Commandos, and a few times he feels himself coming to tears, but she's there to catch them and offer him comfort. After a moment, her fingers slide lose from his own.
For a moment, he debates trying to recapture her hand. It's a soft, small hand with long fingers and come cuts and scars, but it's still so uniquely her.
He's more than thankful for her presence as he learns that she is seventy years in the future. A future where everyone he loves is dead, or very old.
He spots panic on her face for a moment, before she's back to normal. He wonders if she knows what's drawing them together in the time space, but before he can ask, darkness reclaims him.
He is warm again, but it doesn't feel familiar. He doesn't remember how he came to be laying down, but the sheets feel scratchy against his skin.
He hears an old game on the radio. Why would they play an old game over the radio? They should be covering the war. This was strange... Even the sheets felt slightly different to him... Somehow not as scratchy as they are supposed to be.
He blinks his eyes open.
"Captain Rodgers." a voice calls to him. It's the wrong voice. He's not sure what the right voice should sound like, but he trusts his instincts.
He looks around, expecting warm reds and gold's, but he feels the disappointment at seeing the white. The room is wrong.
The woman before him is wrong. It's very rare to see an army nurse in any uniform like that. There also wouldn't be an officer in his hospital room while there was a war going on. Something is wrong.
She moves as if to offer him comfort, but his body jerks back. "Where am I?!" He demands. He notices that her right arm tenses for a moment, as if she is working the muscles in her arm.
He hears the men coming. They bust through the door.
There is a scuffle, and he ends up throwing a man through a wall.
He runs. This isn't right. This isn't a dream.
He runs outside, his first thought is to find what is right. He has to find Tanya.
He can't seem to catch his breath, even after he has stopped running! Everything was different... Where was he?
The sights... The sounds... Even the smells were not the same. The sign that glares 'New York Café' has to be a lie. This can't be New York.
He begins to notice that he is being surrounded by armed men, dressed in black.
His first observations are what they are armed with, their stances, and how many of them there are.
"Welcome to the 21st century, Captain Rodgers." Fury is telling him after SHIELD has caught up to him.
It's eye opening, to say the least.
He almost has to literally stop himself from demanding to see Tanya Stark.
They are on a beach in California. He doesn't know how he knows this, but he'll accept the information.
She looks gorgeous in the sunset while she's laughing at him trying to fend off a seagull. "Little help?!" he almost pouts.
She takes off the tie up part of her skirt leaving Steve to blush. She uses it as a makeshift whip to scare the crap out of the seagull and Steve.
As she's tying it back around her hips, she notices his questioning look. She laughs again. "Spring break." She offers with a shrug. He blinks at her, but accepts her words.
"So!" She says as she plops back down to sit down next to him.
"Hmm?" He watches as she moves hair from her face.
"What are you doing since you've been freed?" She tilts her head in earnest.
He smiles. "Still working for SHIELD. I've been trying to learn the new culture, but it gets jumbled with the new slang. Most of it doesn't mean what it used to mean." He shrugs, confusion playing across his features.
She runs a hand through his blond hair. "What's got you twisted?"
"A lot of references that I'm not getting." He admits.
"First movie you have to watch is the Wizard of Oz." She wiggles her fingers in his hair and he gives a happy hum.
He gives her a sheepish smile. "Why's that?"
"Cause I think you'd love the flying monkeys. Kind of remind me of them!" She laughs and pokes his nose.
He laughs and dives for her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she goes sprawling. "Oof!"
They are both laughing as the roll around on the beach, sand going everywhere. He notices how well she fits against him.
The sunset keeps them warm for hours.
"Steve!" Clint yells as he catches up with the tall blond. "Briefing!"
Steve is slightly surprised that they want to put him on a mission this early on, but right now, he will take anything they throw at him.
"Which room?" He can't help that he's still a little lost.
Clint just smiles. "Follow me!" He sets a brisk pace, but Steve could easily overcome said pace.
"So Nat's thinking about pulling you in on that mission with Stark." Clint said.
Steve falters in his steps. It is only a split second, but Clint catches it, and just shakes his head.
The chance to work with Tanya is tempting. Natasha and Tanya are heading an undercover mission. Something about seeing if Stark could perform well without the threat of dying looming over her head.
"Should I put in a good word, or tell her to nix the idea?" the shorter man asks.
Steve rolls his eyes. "I wouldn't mind getting to meet Ms. Stark." He admits.
Clint grins at him. "She's a spitfire." It was only fair to warn Cap about Stark.
Steve laughs. He figures with all the, hopefully, shared dreams going on between them, he knows just how much of a spit fire Tanya Stark can be.
"Like father, like daughter?" He jokes, and Clint shakes his head again.
"That's what she said," he mutters as they come to a stop before the door marked 'Conference Room 3'.
Tanya Stark is behind that door. Somehow he knows it before Clint even gets five feet within the range of the door.
Her warmth. It calls to him like a Siren's song. He knows it is her. Can feel her all around him as he stops in front of the door.
Can she feel him? What would he feel like to her?
The only way to find out is if that door opens.
Clint easily opens said door, noticing none of the tension stored in Steve's already stiff shoulders.
She is there, standing next to the red head, he'd come to know as Natasha or the Black Widow.
Her eyes meet Steve's. His breath catches for a moment. The vivid happy expression on her face upon seeing him is literally breath taking for him. He can't compare it to Peggy's smiles.
Tanya was in a class all her own, and comparing her to Peggy would only be a shame to both women. He's come to terms with the fact that his heart had moved on.
He'd yet to come to terms with the fact that everyone he knew was gone. That everything he knew was gone, and yet… Seeing her smile made it just a little easier to anchor himself in the now. Even if he was a little dazed by her.
It was amazing. The woman he'd gotten to hold was here now. She wasn't going to just up and disappear into that strange darkness that he know knew was his conscious mind floating.
He would never know how to describe or explain their shared dreams, but he knew he would always cherish them.
"Agent Barton, Captain Rodgers." Natasha's greeting was stern, but not unkind.
"Barton! Captain!" Tanya smiled specifically at Steve. Suddenly, he knew it was a test to see if he remembered what she did.
"I thought we already agreed that you would call me Steve, Ms. Stark." Ha! He countered with his own test.
Her answering smile was brilliant in its radiance. "And I thought I told you to call me Tanya."
"That you did. Tanya then." He agreed easily, letting her know that yes, he did remember as well.
She nods and then makes a move to sit, but he is around the table before she finishes the move, pulling her chair out for her.
She blinks a moment, and he knows she's thrown, but easily accommodates with a playful tap to his arm. "That is going to take some getting used to."
Natasha snorts, but Steve pulls her chair out for her as well, and her shock can't be hidden away. "Indeed."
Steve gives Natasha a smile as well, and takes a seat himself.
The mission is simple. Tanya and Natasha are posing as sisters to meet a potential S.H.I.E.L.D agent gone rogue.
"Won't they recognize Stark though?" Clint asks. Natasha shakes her head.
"Make up, and costume." She explains simply enough.
"Ahh! So where do Steve and I come in?" Clint wonders aloud. Tanya turns an eye to Natasha.
"You, I, Steve, and Tanya are posing as newlywed couples." She says this with a straight face, but Steve and Clint end up gawking anyway.
Clint, Steve knows, is in an established relationship with someone. He hopes that Clint's someone didn't mind Clint and Natasha having such a close cover.
Tanya didn't seem shocked at all, and Steve shot her a short pout, she only shrugged. "Natasha… When is the mission?"
Nat only smiles at Tanya. "A week from today. Fury said we are all to spend time together to get used to one another."
"Sounds legit." Tanya nods, her shoulder length curls tumble around her shoulders as she nods.
Natasha's own curly red hair bobs slightly as she nods to Clint. "Check in." she tells him, and he nods, quickly standing and moving for the door.
"Clint will be in. I checked in with his partner before pulling him in." She informs the room. Tanya smiles.
"Hey Nat, give the Cap and I some time?" She puts a hand on Natasha's arm. It is a soft gesture, but it offers Natasha some comfort.
She nods, and stands to leave before giving Tanya a roll of her eyes. She quietly slips from the room.
As soon as the door clicks shut, and Steve stands, his arms are filled by the warmth and sweetness of Tanya Stark.
"Tanya?" he wonders. She's trembling, and she is nuzzling into Steve's chest.
"I don't know how, I don't know why, but I'm not going to question this. I'm not going to question why. I'm sorry if I'm out of line, but please… Just give me these few moments." She begs. Steve realizes what she's saying.
He quickly gathers the small woman into his arms. "I don't know how. I don't know why, but I'm going to take every moment we have, and enjoy them. You are far from out of line, Tanya. I wanted to gather you into my arms since I first woke up. You realize though, we are going to have to talk about this."
She tries her best to just keep quiet after that, but habit forbids her from staying so silent. "This is nice." She mutters, trying to just keep them in the moment.
Steve just chuckles and leans his head against hers, holding her there with his solid muscle mass. Not like she would go anywhere even if she could.
She is really glad she can hide the pout from him. She wonders if she could take him in the suit. Does she want to take him in the suit? Probably not. No use in scuffing up Steve Rodgers… He'd probably enjoy it.
End of Chap 2
Preview for Chap 3
Loki.
That's all Fury has to say to her. An embittered Norse demigod is trying to tear apart humanity as a whole and make them his pussy bitches.
Hell no.
There are many things that Tanya Stark will not sit down and take... She'll just add this one to the long, and ever growing list, thank you very much!