This is officially the longest chapter, and I think the one I had the most fun with, so I really hope you guys love it! Also, a warning at the beginning half of the chapter, there is a bit of dialogue with an offensive jerk making racists remarks. It's nothing too horrible, but it is based off of an experience I had with a coworker when I did fast food. There's also a mix of Cajun and French in this chapter and I genuinely took it right off of google translate and a website so I hope it's all accurately translated. And enjoy the character embarrassment, because we're going to be seeing a lot of Nicole's family these next few chapters!
Other than that, still no change on my dental situation, I'm waiting to get put back on my dad's insurance before I can see the dentist. The cold was a red herring though, as I'm healthy as a horse.
Once again a big thank you to the favorites/follows/reviews. (I love you.) Keep up the good work and enjoy this monstrosity of a chapter!
Adara.
Chapter Twelve:
November 22, 1924, Location: Brooklyn NY
"Relax kid." He hadn't even been aware of the fact that his hands were twitching, but stopped immediately when Bucky bumped his shoulder. "My ma's gonna love you."
Steve doubted that, he highly did. Most parents didn't want their kids hanging around with the sickly boy in school who looked like he was about to keel over at any minute. It had led to a bit of a lonely life, but it was his life and not for the first time Bucky Barnes was proving to be the exception to that.
"Are you sure she won't mind me popping in uninvited for dinner?" Steve asked worriedly, shoving his scraped up knuckles into his pants pockets. His ma had needed to pull a double shift at the hospital, and Steve had been more than prepared to head on home alone—like usual—to fend for himself when Bucky had up and announced that he was coming over tonight.
"Nah, it won't be a problem!" Bucky threw him that wide mouthed grin of his, the one that charmed teachers and parents alike. "We've got plenty to share and 'sides she would string me up and tan my hide if she knew I let you go home without your ma being there."
His shoulders hunched defensively as they climbed the steps heading to his apartment. Bucky shortened his stride, the two children slowly tackling the flight of stairs as Steve struggled to keep himself from getting winded. "It's not the first time I've been home alone, Buck. Mom pulls double shifts all the time, I can get by."
"Yeah," Bucky rolled his eyes. "I know that Stevie; you've managed to survive long enough to meet me after all. But we're pals now, right? That means you don't have to get by alone anymore, cuz I'm here. And I ain't going anywhere."
Against all logic since the day Bucky had stopped Pete from beating Steve into a bloody pulp during the start of second grade in August, the brown haired boy had actually become his friend. More than that, Bucky was his best friend in the whole world and even in those short months the two had become inseparable. This was the first time that Steve had ever actually been over to Bucky's house though, and this would be the first time that he would get to meet Bucky's mom and little sister.
"Now, Becky's just a baby so don't expect her to do much of anything exciting. And if she pukes on you or something gross, that means she likes you." Bucky winked conspiratorially, one hand reaching up to close around the scuffed door knob.
They entered into a small hall, where there were a few empty coat hooks and some slightly wilting daisies resting on the little table.
"Bucky, honey, is that you?" A sweet voice called, sounding like it was coming from down the hall. "You're home early, I thought you were going to your friend Steve's."
"It's me, ma. There was a slight change of plans; Mrs. Rogers had to stay late at work, so I brought Steve for dinner." Bucky walked down the hall like he owned the place—not surprising considering that it was his home, but also that it was just always how Bucky walked—leaving Steve to trail behind and try to catch up. "Hope you don't mind!"
"Not at all, I'm in the kitchen with Rebecca." Mrs. Barnes called, her voice getting louder as they navigated the apartment. The kitchen itself was a bustle of activity and Bucky's mom was at the center of it. She was standing over a bubbling pot, lifting a spoon to her mouth with what looked to Steve like a mess of brown on it that he immediately placed as tomato sauce.
"Hi mom!" She dropped the spoon neatly back into the pot to lean down and scoop her son into a hug that lifted him clear off of the ground.
"Hello honey." Mrs. Barnes grinned, her grey eyes landing on where Steve was trying very hard to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. "And you must be Steve. Bucky's told me a lot about you! In fact, from the way he carries on, you're his absolute favorite topic."
"Ma! Yer embarrassing me!" Bucky cried, rubbing the back of his neck as his face turned red.
Steve allowed a small smile to crack his features then, glancing over at his friend before turning back to the woman who was kneeling in front of him with her hand outstretched. "Pay him no mind, Steve. I'm Winifred Barnes, but most people call me Winnie."
"Hello ma'am." He shook her hand shyly, gaze kept down on his scuffed up shoes. "You have a very nice home."
"Thank you sweetie." Winnie beamed, straightening up. "Does your mom know that you're staying here?"
Steve threw Bucky a terrified look at that question. What if she got mad because Steve didn't get his own mom's permission before coming first and asked him to leave? Or worse, what if Bucky got in trouble because of him and then didn't want to be Steve's friend anymore.
"No, she called him from the hospital to let him know that she wouldn't be home until late tonight. I figured he could stay for dinner, and then I'd walk him home." Bucky explained, his grey eyes getting big and wide as he pouted up at his mom. "Please ma?"
Winnie arched an eyebrow at the boys, not missing the way that Bucky gently jabbed him in the side before jerking his attention back to the woman.
"I can go if it would be too much of an imposition ma'am." Steve offered nervously, causing the woman's lips to twitch slightly.
"No sweetie, it's perfectly fine if you stay for dinner. And afterwards we can all walk over to your home before your mama gets home; Becca likes going out in the city before bed, it helps her sleep. Do you know what time she gets off?" She asked kindly, and he couldn't help the happy swell in his chest.
"She gets off at eight tonight." He answered with a touch more confidence. "And it usually takes about twenty minutes for her to get home."
"Alright then, it's settled. Bucky, why don't you take Steve to your room and you two can get started on your homework. I'll call you when it's time to go wash up for dinner."
Bucky had the biggest grin on his face as he grabbed the strap of Steve's book bag, effectively yanking the smaller boy out of the kitchen. "Thanks mom, you're the best! C'mon Stevie!"
It turned out that he needn't have worried about a single thing.
IOI
September 17, 2011, Location: JFK International Airport in route to Atlanta, GA
"Okay, so, our flight departs at seven and oh my god why is it so early?" Steve looked over at that miserable whine, slowly lowering his breakfast sandwich from his mouth.
Nicole had her head on the table, hair pulled back in a messy knot and Dum Dum's had beside her, with her arms hanging limply at her side. They had left the apartment bright and early–before dawn–to make sure that there was enough time to check their baggage, get Chauncey situated in his carrier and find their gates. Not that his friend was particularly thrilled about that fact; Steve had practically needed to drag her down to the cab.
"You're the one that wanted to book the early flight." He noted innocently, returning to his breakfast. This had to be his thirds sandwich–as a super solder he had a tendency to eat a lot–and if he was honest, the food was actually pretty good. Much better than the army rations anyway where they'd needed to boil just about everything. And there was such a surplus of money and food, it astounded him.
It was one of the few things that he still had a little trouble wrapping his brain around; Steve was used to being dirt poor and not having two pennies to rub together. Since he'd woken up however, Fury had given him a lot of 'back-pay' as the man called it… Steve had so much money that he didn't know what to do with it all.
"Steve!" Nicole whined louder, "I'm so tired."
He resisted the urge to laugh at those words; Nicole had looked utterly exhausted when she'd woken up this morning. One thing was definitely certain… she was not a morning person.
Whereas he'd been up, packed and waiting with a pot of coffee–because he knew how to work the machine, thank you very much–when her alarm had finally gone off. The redhead had stumbled out of her bedroom shuffling around like a zombie in one of those old black and white films she loved so much, before she practically collapsed at the table. He had watched in thinly veiled amusement as she'd blatantly demanded coffee while half asleep.
And even with the cab ride and dealing with airport security she wasn't much better off.
"Do you want me to get you another cup of coffee?" He offered sweetly, crumbling up his wrapper and tossing it back in the bag.
"You'd only be the best person in the world." Came the muffled reply.
He couldn't help the amused grin that parted his lips, collecting the rest of their garbage as he stood up. Nicole didn't so much as twitch in his direction, instead lifting her arms to cover her head.
There was a line by the coffee shop, many businessmen and women snapping orders at the already harried baristas. Everybody in line in front of him seemed to be in such a big hurry that they couldn't pause long enough to be polite. That was one of the few things about the future that Steve really didn't much care for. Most people were so concerned with themselves and couldn't be bothered with something as simple as manners.
"What do you mean I have to wait for a fresh pot?" Such as the red faced man in front of him. "I've already been waiting long enough with this line! I'm going to miss my flight because you people can't do your jobs!"
"I'm very sorry sir, but in order to make sure that you have the best brewed coffee that we have to offer, we have to brew all of our pots every thirty minutes. It's company policy." The girl answered, forced politeness in her tones though her eyes were flashing in annoyance.
"You just gave the guy in front of me his order!" Came the outraged snap. "Where's your manager? I want to speak to them about the incompetence of their employees!"
Steve felt his hands clenching into fists; this was getting ridiculous. And it seemed that the barista was getting just as fed up, her smile growing tighter as the corners of her lips whitened. "Our manager on break right now, I'm sorry. It'll only be a couple more minutes, the blend you asked for is almost finished."
"This is the worst coffee shop I've ever been to! Are you even here legally? All of these damn illegal immigrants coming into the country taking up all of the jobs!" The barista jerked back as though she'd been slapped, her eyes flooding with hurt as she pushed out a deep breath.
That was the last straw for Steve, and he pushed his way forward. "Look buddy, why don't you calm down? She's just trying to do her job."
"Calm down?" The man whirled around to face him, his head barely coming up to Steve's chest. In an abstract way it was kind of hilarious to watch as the bluster went right out of him and he sort of deflated as he realized the size difference between the two. "N–now look here, buddy, I've been waiting for twenty minutes already for my coffee!"
"Yeah, I know." Steve drawled, "I had the misfortune of being stuck behind you the entire time. No matter how long you have to wait, it's no excuse to start yelling at someone for a situation that they can't change."
The barista looked up at him with wide eyes, completely surprised as people moved around behind her to fill orders.
Seeming to find what little courage he had, the red-faced man jabbed a finger into Steve's chest. "This is supposed to be quick service. Quick. So don't tell me that this idiot–who probably doesn't even have a green card–isn't blame free."
The man's sagging face quivered slightly when Steve drew himself up to his full height; his spine stiffened as his shoulders squared in… it wasn't quite hostility, but it was close. The look he raked over the man was one that had sent more than a few people scrambling for cover and he was somewhat impressed that the man held his ground somewhat. He stumbled back, bumping into the counter and knocking over a cup of straws as he clutched his bag to his chest.
"Now listen here," The blonde growled darkly, arms crossing his chest. "You people seem to forget that this nation was built upon the backs of immigrants. So don't you dare disrespect someone working hard to make a living while you sit there in your fancy suit."
The area around him went silent as even the other employees stopped to watch the scene unfold.
"You owe this young lady an apology." He was using his Captain America voice, the tones brooking no argument. "Now."
"I–" He tried to argue, crumbling under Steve's icy glower. "I'm sorry for yelling, and insulting you."
It wasn't sincere, but Steve was willing to take it when the barista gave a jerky nod.
"Good." His posture relaxed slightly. "Now, I recommend you find somewhere else to go get your coffee."
There was stunned silence as the man scurried away, throwing one furious, bitter, look over his shoulder. It was one that the blonde ignored; after all, what exactly could the guy do to him? Steve was long past the point of being a skinny kid that got the stuffing beat out of him in back alleys. As soon as he was roughly five feet away from the coffee shop, applause broke out among the employees and the rest of the patrons, causing him to duck his head.
He always got a little embarrassed when people applauded him, or praised his actions. He was only doing the right thing, the same thing that anyone would have–should have–done. There was nothing special about that.
"Thank you so much." The barista exclaimed as he approached.
There were tears in the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Steve wondered at that, at the fact that they seemed more in response to his defense than anything if the smile was something to go by. He wondered how many times she'd been insulted at work or in her personal life for those bitter, ugly words not to even phase her. And then a simple act of human kindness elicited a response.
This wasn't something exclusive to the 21st century, it was something that he'd dealt with almost every day of his life.
"That guy was a jerk." He shrugged. "He deserved a lot worse than just getting yelled at."
"That's Mr. Richards." Her coworker, a tall guy with a string-bean physique added helpfully, adding whipped cream to a smoothie. "He's in and out all the time. Complains about the coffee all the time, insults us all the time, but never goes to one of the other stores."
"This was just the first time that somebody's put him in his place, so you're now my hero!" The girl–her nametag said Mara–grinned, fingers curving around the edge of the register. "What, um, what can I get for you?"
"Well…" His eyes scanned over the signs displaying the drinks and their prices. "My friend is dying of caffeine withdrawal, so I need something that will really wake her up. A cup of your strongest roast, with lots of milk and sugar, please."
Mara pursed her lips thoughtfully at that, turning her dark gaze to look at the brewing pots. "Okay. I'll mix you up something that should give your friend the kick she needs."
Steve watched as the woman pulled out a large to go cup, expertly handling the decanters as she poured what looked like two different blends of coffee into the container. Next came a pump of flavor that he couldn't identify, followed by cream and sugar. The final touch was when Mara slid the cup under a machine that gave off a lot of steam, as well as not one but three shots of espresso. She finished it with a lid, and then one of those cardboard sleeves that were supposed to keep your hand from burning… though they didn't always work like that.
"Here you go." Steve accepted the cup almost warily, unable to avoid the strong aroma coming from them. "That's what we call 'Triple Death', and if it doesn't put hairs on her chest your friend might be a zombie."
"Thanks." He juggled his wallet and the coffee for a second before common sense kicked in and he set the cup on the counter and fished out a couple of bills. "If you hear an explosion, screaming, or a combination of the two you'll know it worked. Keep the change."
After checking his watch–it was 6:23 in the morning to be exact–Steve hurried off with a wave. Balancing the cup of hot liquid so as to avoid burning himself, he navigated his way through benches of seats, tables, and the people that inhabited them. He remembered his route from the table exactly, and this early in the morning there weren't that many people that were in the airport to begin with.
Nicole was finally sitting up, her back pressing into the edge of the square table as she faced out in the opposite direction. It gave him a good look at her profile, one leg crossed over the other and her elbow resting on the surface as her arm bounced in the open air. Her face looked exasperated, and every now and again she would nod slightly.
Steve had a joke lined up as he approached, but as soon as he got within a few feet the redhead turned to face him with an intense look of concentration as she held up one finger to silence him. "Yeah, mom. We're waiting on the plane right now."
Her brows knit together as she sat up a little straighter, dragging her hand down her face. "There were no earlier flights, unless we left yesterday and I had work. And I told you I was bringing a friend, we had this conversation like two weeks ago. Yeah, because I was like 'mom, I'm bringing a friend' and then you were like 'oh really, who is it?'"
Steve sat down in his previously vacated chair, muffling a laugh behind his hand when her fingers curved into claws. "Yeah! You asked me the awkward questions that I'm not going to repeat because I'm in public. Uh-huh. Answer is still no. Loading should be starting soon, so I have to go. I love you, and I'll see you soon."
"Bye mom." Nicole hung up with a sigh, setting her phone down on the table before pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes.
"So… I've got coffee." The blonde offered, holding the cup out tentatively.
She lowered her hands, turning an exhausted smile in his direction as she reached out expectantly. "That's because you're the best person. In the world."
"Be careful, I've been told it could give you a heart attack." He warned as he handed over the cup.
Nicole arched an eyebrow at that, studying the thin walled cup as she held it carefully in both hands. If the heat bothered her at all–which he doubted that it did–she gave no indication, and the redhead carefully brought the caffeinated concoction to her nose. Taking a hesitant sniff her nose wrinkled in surprise before she took a small sip.
Steve watched expectantly, half expecting her to spit it right back out.
"Oh damn." She took a bigger gulp. "I haven't had a green eye in a long time. Not since I was working on my thesis paper for my Master's degree. Let me tell you something about that paper; years of research, and a lot of sleepless nights went into that. One time I had fallen really far behind with both school work and training exercises at Ops, so I made myself a Livewire Kamikaze."
"A Livewire Kamikaze?" He parroted in confusion, causing the woman to break out in a fit of giggles.
"It's a drink that I made myself. So basically you take a pot of coffee, wait for it to cool, and then you use that instead of water to brew another pot of coffee. And you put three espresso shots in it. Add a Monster or a Red bull, and then sweeten to taste."
He was almost certain that there was a horrified expression on his face. He'd had one of those energy drinks before, and the high amounts of sugar and caffeine had kept him up all night even after he'd spent most of the day at the gym. "Those things are horrible for you! How did you not die?"
"That," She grinned, rolling her cup between her hands, "is actually the million dollar question blondie. I was so jittery for three days that I got no sleep. About thirteen hours after I drank it, I was so bad that I literally had to go sit out in the middle of absolute nowhere and just… burn. All so that I could get back to working properly."
"I bet Fury was utterly thrilled with that." Steve snorted, though he now eyed the coffee warily.
"I got such a chewing out." Oblivious to his observations, Nicole took another drink. "It was actually really bad; like I didn't hurt anyone or lose control or anything, but Fury was so pissed at how reckless I'd been. However, I learned very valuable things about myself such as the limits I can push myself to before I completely collapse. And my paper got published in several journals, so bam."
"He wasn't wrong Nicole, that was incredibly dangerous. It could have given you a heart attack." She rolled her eyes at that, blowing a raspberry at him as she tugged her carry-on bag a little closer.
"You sound like my mom, Steve." Her phone vibrated on the table like it always did when she got a text message alert. "Took you long enough though; were the lines bad?"
He felt his face flush again as he thought back to the confrontation he'd had just a few minutes ago. Nicole noticed, and her eyes narrowed on his figure as her posture shifted more attentively. "The lines were that bad?"
"I didn't think that they were, but the guy in front of me was being a real bastard. It was hard not to lay him out." Steve answered. "Part of the reason I didn't was because he looked like one punch would land him in the hospital."
"One punch from you?" She squeezed his forearm. "Yeah, I'll believe it. I'll bet the person behind the counter was absolutely smitten with you."
The corner of his mouth hitched slightly, before his eyes narrowed once more and he nudged her gently in the ribs. "I know you purposely changed the subject. Promise me you don't do that anymore."
Nicole scoffed at that, draining the rest of her cup. "Of course I don't do that anymore. The crash was so awful, I got back to my apartment and slept for a day and a half and woke up with a horrible headache and stomach cramps. I'm not as young as I used to be Rogers, my metabolism doesn't process things the same way."
"Yeah." Steve pushed to his feet and leveled a deadpanned look at her. "Because you're practically in a retirement home, grandma."
He pulled his own bag over his shoulder, feeling the edge of his sketch book through the material as he adjusted it more comfortably. This was his first flight since the crash and Steve would be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous. Not that he thought it was going to go down the same way as the Valkyrie had, but even so he couldn't help but be reminded of the fact that he would be thousands of miles above the earth's surface trapped in an elongated metal tube.
"Shh," Nicole whacked him harmlessly in the chest, reaching down to scoop up her hat and drop it back onto her head. "C'mon. They're about to start boarding."
They had booked their flight in the business class, meaning that they would be the second group allowed on to the plane. Nicole had booked her seat months in advance, flying first class, but she'd been able to switch out her ticket with remarkable ease. Steve suspected that SHIELD had something to do with the lack of excess fees.
The redhead bounded towards the overhead sign that led to gate 46, the tails of her sweater catching in her newfound energy. Steve was left to follow behind at a more sedate pace, not that he minded. Truth be told he was more than a little uneasy about getting on the plane. It wasn't so much the ride that bothered him, though it did a little bit, as it was the destination.
Steve's first meeting with Stark had been… well, he wouldn't call it disastrous, but that wasn't far off. The people trying to kill them he could deal with, hell that was almost preferred, but the robots? That had been a new experience. The worst part had been the man's personality. Howard had been difficult to get to know at first, but at least the senior Stark possessed some shred of humility. Tony seemed to be an unsavory mixture of vanity and arrogance, and Steve had wanted to knock the man down a peg or two more than once. Especially the way he had upset Nicole, without even apologizing. It had been rude and though his friend insisted emphatically that she wasn't really bothered Steve knew that statement for the lie it was. He had watched her entire mind close off behind her eyes as her body switched to autopilot just like what had happened right after the fire.
He could only hope that seeing Gabe and Dum Dum again would go a lot better.
Steve had met Gabe's grandson, Trip as he preferred to be called, and the man certainly seemed like a nice guy. Granted there had been time for little more than a brief introduction before they'd parted ways, but as far as first impressions went, it was one of the better ones.
Except now he'd be spending a little over a week with Nicole's family and he was more nervous than he probably should have been. He hoped that he wouldn't be intruding too much, even though time and time again his friend insisted that it was–and would continue to be–fine. Except… well, what if it wasn't? What if he got there and they didn't want to see him? If they were upset over the fact that he got a chance to be young and healthy in a time where there was more opportunity than ever, while they were trapped by the failings of time?
What if they didn't even remember him?
"Hey, Steve?" He looked up from where he'd been clutching his boarding pass to find Nicole watching him.
"Yeah?" He swallowed, hoping that his words came out steady and didn't reveal the truth of his emotions.
Her brown eyes were light with a smile, but just beneath the surface he could see the worry in them. "You're doing that thing again. The one where you over think things and then get really worried. My family is going to love you, and Papou and Uncle Gabe are going to be happy to see you."
There was something reassuring about the certainty of those words, even if he didn't entirely believe them. And Nicole knew how he felt about it, as though she were a mind reader and could pluck the thoughts right out of his head. She was a smart woman, incredibly clever, and beyond skilled when it came to her people skills. That was evident by the way she maintained her professional decorum during the meetings when dealing with General Ross.
Even if she hadn't told him on the ride over it would have been impossible to miss the contempt she'd held for the man. A sentiment he obviously shared, because Steve had caught a few subtle barbs that were directed right at her. Nicole hadn't so much as blinked in his direction at those, even though he could tell by the tension in her frame that she wanted nothing more than to slug him in the face.
Luckily they'd managed to work out any frustration during the attack, and SHIELD was still processing through the interrogations of the two men that hadn't become casualties, as well as working with the military and Stark to disassemble the robots.
"How are your feet?" He asked suddenly. They'd spent over an hour down in the medical bay with a doctor picking glass out of her skin. The worst of it had been in her feet, from running around barefoot over the wreckage of the windows. She'd been told to keep off of them for the rest of the day, but after a good night's sleep she was up and moving around again much to his surprise and dismay.
The redhead arched an eyebrow, brown eyes dropping down to the comfortable brown flats she was wearing. "They feel fine. All nice and healed up, though sometimes I feel phantom throbs."
"You should have worn more practical shoes." He shook his head darkly, handing over his boarding pass to the flight attendant. "What were you even thinking?"
"Are we really going to do this? Again?" With a long suffering sigh the redhead pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Alright, dad, you were right. It was stupid of me. I shouldn't have been wearing heels."
"You're damn right you shouldn't have been!" He growled, following her up the platform and onto the plane. Which he had mentioned sitting next to her getting a cut on his arm disinfected. And on the ride back to New York. And during their debriefing with Coulson. "With all of the stupid shit I've heard you pulling, you know it's a miracle that you even survived this long."
"I'm sorry are we talking about all of the stupid things I've done, Mr. 'I-jumped-on-a-grenade'? Because if that's not the pot calling the kettle black, I'll eat my hat." She snapped back a little testily.
Refusing to back down from the challenge, he reached up to pop open the overhead compartment, stowing his second carry on inside it. "That was a completely different situation."
"Oh bite my ass. The point remains that you have done so much stupid shit that you are in no position to judge me. Besides, I'm a big kid Steve I know the risks of my job so please spare me the lectures." Nicole jabbed him in the side with her elbow, stretching her arms up to close the compartment with a snap.
Blue eyes narrowed on her figure as she slid into the window seat–his seat–spitting her tongue out childishly. Not that he was going to admit it to her–especially not now–but he would have preferred the aisle seat anyway. Instead he just dropped down sullenly beside the woman who was studiously ignoring him.
It took about another thirty minutes of checking seats, watching the safety video and turning off all cellular devices before they began take off. In that time Nicole hadn't so much as uttered a single word, her arms crossed petulantly as the redhead made a point of staring out the window. The sight out of the small rectangle of glass was remarkably lovely though, the sun had appeared over the horizon, painting the sky a lovely shade of blue as the heat began burning off the morning mist and sending light cutting through the shadows.
And then they started moving, the loading platform retracting and Steve was painfully reminded that the last take-off he'd been a part of had required him to climb in through the wheel area. His fingers clenched around the arm rests, knuckles white as he tried to remain calm. This was ridiculous; the situations were completely different and there was no way that this plane would meet the same fate as the Valkyrie. And yet against his normally indomitable will Steve couldn't help the natural reaction of his body as his breath came out in a sharp knife. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nicole relax slightly beside him, her hand reaching out to clasp over one of his.
It was a soothing touch and Steve felt his own hand relaxing slightly at the continued presence of her warm one over top of it. She didn't say a word, her free hand reaching out to collect one of the magazines tucked in a pouch on the back of the seat in front of them while she leaned into his side so that their arms were linked and her head was resting on his shoulder. With the exception of a few people, Steve hadn't actually had a dame be this close to him physically in his entire life. Bucky used to drag him on double dates all the time–it had been remarkably easy to find a couple of girls who wanted to spend the night dancing with James Barnes–but even then Steve had usually hung out in the back of the group and didn't say much.
The first time he'd tried to have a real conversation with Peggy he'd ended up tripping over his words and lodging his foot so far down his throat he could still taste the leather. But with Nicole, who was unreserved and free with her affection, this physical closeness felt… comfortable. There were no romantic undertones, no expectations of what he should do, or what they should be, they were just two friends. It made things simpler, and it touched something inside of his heart that, with all of the adjusting and insanity that was his life, he hadn't actually realized was aching. Something that had been aching since he'd watched his best friend in the whole world fall off of a train and into the ice below.
Not that he ever believed that Nicole would be able to replace Bucky–nobody could replace Bucky Barnes–but it was nice to have another human being who he could at least somewhat relate to. Someone who had some understanding of what he'd been put through within the last year of his consciousness.
Steve recalled Stark's words back in that hotel; what he had said about Peggy. He needed to go see her before it was too late, before he didn't have the option anymore. He didn't actually think he was ready for that yet though. And even as that thought crossed his mind he felt like a bit of a coward; Peggy deserved to at least know, and it wasn't like she was guaranteed a lot of time left.
That thought made him sick to his stomach.
Peggy, his Peggy, was a grandmother. All of his friends were grandparents. And he was old enough to be someone's grandfather even if he didn't look like it.
Steve had figured as the plane was going down, had figured when he'd woken up 70 years later, that she would have moved on. But the concrete proof that she had was still like a fist to the gut.
"You alright?" He almost missed that soft question, looking down to find Nicole watching him with a look of intense concentration.
"Fine." He croaked dryly, feeling her arm tighten around his.
"You're nervous." It wasn't a question, but he ended up answering anyway.
"Well." He squeezed his eyes shut for a heartbeat. "If you think about what happened the last time I was on a plane? It's really the landing that I'm worried about. Didn't end so well last time."
Nicole appeared to consider those words, her lips twisting into a half smile. "Yeah, but we have a trained pilot this time. And you have a back-up ride if things get hairy."
Steve arched an eyebrow at the figure that was still flipping through the magazine, her brows furrowing. "I do?"
"Didn't I tell you?" Nicole pressed the heel of one hand into her ear, head shaking slightly as the altitude shifted and caused them to pop. "I can fly."
His problems were momentarily forgotten as that news registered, and Steve pursed his lips. "You've had training flying a 757?"
There was a devilish smile on Nicole's face as she neatly folded her magazine shut, lifting her head so that they were looking eye to eye. "Well, I can fly SHIELD's quinjets, but that's not the type of flying I mean. I can actually, physically, no plane needed, fly."
"How?" He sputtered in disbelief, making the redhead laugh.
"It's actually not too complicated. There's a combination of things that make it work; so you know the fire and heat absorption? Well I can redirect the flames into my body to make myself lighter. So then it's kind of like the thrusters on rockets when they lift off, only from my feet." She explained, hands moving in odd gestures that somehow helped her without providing any relevance to the words coming out of her mouth. "And a lot of muscle training to keep my balance properly, so I can also use my hands to increase my speed or steady my flight."
"So… it's like Stark's suit?" The man had been adamant upon showing off after the fight. "But wouldn't that burn your clothes and stuff?"
Nicole nodded, a smile on her face. "It does, yeah, which is why I have to be careful when I'm doing it. Though SHIELD has been developing a uniform for me that is supposed to have high heat resistance. We haven't done a full test on how hot I can go, but I can put off a lot of heat. Not that I've had to; those sort of things are reserved for the end of the world."
"That is incredible." Steve was learning new things about his friend every day, some more mundane than others. "You'll have to show me some time."
He had been incredibly interested in her powers since he'd first learned about them, though he hadn't been sure how to tactfully broach the subject of his curiosity. He knew that Nicole was self-conscious about them, that she had placed a lot of responsibility in learning how to control them on her shoulders after what had happened when she first realized that she possessed them. But he couldn't deny that he wanted to see her using them. The closest that he had gotten was when she'd melted right through the carapace of that Hammer drone, though it had been all a blur.
"If you remind me when we get back to SHIELD, we can slip into one of the safe rooms. It'll probably be good for me anyway." At his questioning glance she shrugged her shoulders before settling back against him. "It's not like Tony's suit; I can't just take it off when I'm not using it. These abilities, the mutations in my cells, they're a part of me 24/7 like it or not. And they're like any other muscle, they're supposed to be exercised regularly. Except, when I don't it builds up and builds up with my emotions."
Brown eyes turned troubled as she wriggled her fingers. "I think that's why I lost control back at the apartment; because it had been a really long time since I'd last used my powers, and I'd been feeling stressed out from the thought of going back to DC, as well as... you know. I was having a nightmare of what happened and it just popped out."
Steve carefully untangled his arm enough that he could wrap it around both of her shoulders, squeezing the redhead in a one-armed hug. "You know you don't need to hide that. You're my friend Nicole, if you need help just talk to me. With everything that's happened I've been getting so wrapped up in my own problems that I don't realize other people have issues too. It's been less of a problem now that I've gotten more adjusted, but whenever you need it we can just take a day to work on you."
The smile that he got in response was like standing in a ray of bright light, and Nicole curled even more into his side. "You're a sweetie, Steve. It's not that I don't have friends, I do, but for the most part we have all of our own shit to deal with that we're less than sympathetic when everyone else starts bitching. Not to mention that my friends are all fellow agents so we don't actually have a lot of down time to just hang out between missions. I don't know, I guess I'm just not used to having someone to actually lean on… though it's as much because I refuse to ask for help than anything else."
"Yeah, well, you don't have to do that anymore." He offered decisively, shifting slightly when she poked at his ribs. "And don't say or do anything that's going to ruin the moment."
"Spoil sport." Nicole snorted, her gaze turning back over to the window. They were now flying over what looked like a forest, though he could see farmland on the outskirts.
An hour and a half later the pilot's voice announced that they were beginning their descent, and Steve felt his entire body tense up in response. Nicole, who had somehow managed to drift off in spite of all the caffeine pumping through her veins, twitched awake at his motion and he murmured an apology.
"No need to be sorry." She yawned, rubbing at her face as she shifted into a more comfortable position. Steve retracted his arm as she sat up, though his hand was quickly taken by hers again. "I hate the landing the most too."
"It seems kind of stupid, getting upset about this." He grit his teeth as the plane wobbled slightly. "After everything I've been through."
"It's not stupid." The redhead argued. "It's a natural human response. Like, when I was five I snuck out of my room to watch a horror movie that my mom had on. It scared me so bad that I had nightmares for about a month, and to this day whenever I'm at her house and I turn the basement light off I come streaking up the stairs like my life depends on it."
He couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image of Nicole Dugan running up the stairs because she was afraid of the boogey man.
"Wait, does this mean I'm going to get to see your room?" He asked suddenly, a sly smile curving his features. "Is there going to be a Captain America shrine dedicated to me?"
"Oh my goodness, shut up blondie!" Nicole screeched good-naturedly, shoving him slightly. "Or I'll make you sleep outside!"
"Oh! Ouch! Hey!" He gave her an exaggerated pout. "So much for southern hospitality."
"Pffft. I'll have you know that I am very hospitable. I wash your laundry, le capitaine, even when you don't use the laundry basket." She smirked, nose wrinkling in amusement. "And I have yet to give you the black-brick special."
"I'm pretty sure you're making these up now." The plane gave a slight bump when it touched down, his hand tightening around hers to the point where a normal person might have been uncomfortable. "But I'll bite. What's the black-brick special?"
"It's a $10 lunch special featuring local produce from a restaurant in south Florida. We ate there once when we went on vacation." Nicole answered brightly, unbuckling her safety belt. "The food was actually pretty good."
"You make absolutely no sense sometimes." Steve muttered to himself, climbing to his feet and stretching his muscles out. The flight had only taken a couple hours, Steve had definitely sat stationary for longer, but it was nice to be out of a seated position. "Is someone coming to pick us up?"
"Jack is picking us up." Nicole was tapping away at her phone almost as soon as they were off the plane, just barely avoiding plowing right into a group of excited children. "I just told him that we'd landed."
They turned in the direction of the baggage claim. "Now it only takes about 20 minutes to get from there to here, so he should be on his way soon. And trust me, we'll know him when we see him because I'll be crushed in the embrace of a man twice my size with a beard the likes of which can only be dreamed of."
He laughed out loud at that, the mental image too hilarious to even contemplate.
"Et j'espère qu'un vieux en sueur et qui pue te fasses un câlin et que ton visage se retrouve en plein dans ces aisselles poilues." She muttered, causing him to laugh even harder.
"Et j'espère qu'une bande de gamins de six ans bien grippés, balance leurs morves sur toi." He replied easily, dodging the elbow aimed for his ribs.
"Can it, Rogers." Nicole growled playfully, "Before I'm forced to do something you'll really regret."
There was an unspoken challenge in her eyes, and if there was anything he had learned from his rather extroverted friend it was that she was not afraid to make a public spectacle. So instead of pushing her farther into doing something that would no doubt end up embarrassing him, Steve decided to switch tactics.
"Where did you learn French?" He asked, watching as the first wave of luggage came out on the conveyer belt. Unfortunately he didn't see his scuffed up green bag that had been recovered from his possessions and shouldn't have lasted as long as it had, nor did he see Nicole's gradually more expensive and newer leather suitcase.
"Well, when I was a wee lass and we still lived in DC both Gabe and Dernier would teach me a little bit of what they knew. Then we moved down here, and my lessons were put on temporary hold until my mom started dating Jack; his family has strong Cajun roots so he started teaching me again. Mémère Josie was so surprised when she found out that I already knew a little, but I grew up around the language. French in high school and college was super easy for me." She explained, watching another set of luggage come around.
"Ah, I see. That's actually where I learned it too. From Dernier I mean. I'd taken a few classes in school, but there's nothing quite like having a French-speaking member on your team to really pick up the language." Granted Steve expected that his first few lessons in French had been quite different than Nicole's at a young age. "Oh, wait are those ours?"
"No mistaking that bag for anyone else's." Nicole snorted, reaching for her leather suitcase as he grabbed the fraying strap of his own bag.
"Be nice to this thing. It survived a war and God only knows what else." He chided gently, earning a roll of the eyes.
"Yes sir." She gave him a weak salute that made him roll his eyes, resisting the urge to shove her onto the conveyer belt and watch her go around and around. "Anyway, let's head outside and wait for Jack. He drives a really nice car actually, it's a classic 1970's Cadillac Deville, it's such a pretty shade of bl—oof!"
"Mon bebette!" A deep voice boomed, belonging to the brawny man who was easily lifting Nicole off of her feet. Steve jumped a few inches backwards at the sudden noise, instantly feeling foolish when his eyes focused on the man. Nicole was right in that the man was twice as wide as her, though Steve doubted that there was an ounce of fat on him. He had the look of a professional linebacker–albeit a retired one–and the grey streaks at his temples were more than a little pronounced. His beard swallowed the lower half of his face and went down to his chest; it was well groomed and definitely impressive.
Nicole let out a squeal of delight, her legs kicking up in surprise as she was spun around. "Hi Jack!"
"It's so good to see you again mon cher. You don't come visit as much as you should." Jack beamed, pulling her back into another bone crushing hug. Hazel eyes turned to Steve after a few seconds, immediately sizing him up. "Qui C'est q'ca?"
"This is Steve, the friend I told mom I was bringing." Nicole answered, nonplussed by the fact that she was being squished into the larger man's side. "Steve, this is my step-dad, Jack."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I've heard good things." Steve offered his hand, earning a distrustful look from the probable line-backer.
Jack turned his face back to Nicole, voice dropping quietly. "You his gaienne?"
"No Jack. Just friends." His face heated unintentionally at that put upon expression on the redhead's face, and she offered him an almost apologetic smile.
"Coo-wee, look at you son. You ever play football?" And just like that the man was warm and smiling as he grasped Steve's hand in a firm grip. "You're built like a brick house."
"I'm afraid not." Steve grinned, following the rapid flow of words from the man's mouth. "Played a little bit in the army, but nothing serious."
"Damn shame that, m'boy. Could've gone pro I bet. Jack Walker, pleasure to meet you son." Steve had heard once that the southern states were supposed to feel slower than up north, but Jack Walker was quick moving and full of life. "Well, we've lolly-gagged enough. Your mom and papere are already waiting, as well as Gabe. We were thinking about heading out for dinner tonight."
Jack bent down and collected the bag easily, completely ignoring Nicole's attempted protest. Steve decided then and there that he definitely liked the man. "So you were in the army, Steve? Where were you stationed?"
They had prepared an explanation for answering questions like this, until Steve and SHIELD could finally come to terms about what to do with his Captain America identity. It wasn't the first time he'd had to play a different role from who he was; even in the army Steve had needed to pretend to be an absolutely bumbling private who didn't know the butt of a rifle from the muzzle.
"I spent a lot of time overseas, stationed in Germany." He answered lightly.
"Can't imagine that you saw a whole lot of action." Jack offered, holding the door open for both of them to go through.
His lips twitched slightly at that, thinking back to a time when he and Bucky had been separated from the rest of the Commandoes. They had gotten stuck in the trenches with HYDRA raining hell down on them. Steve had just gripped his shield a little tighter before launching himself over the edge with Bucky's cursing momentarily blocking out the sound of gunfire.
"More than you might imagine." Nicole gave an almost imperceptible snrk at that, covering it up with a cough as they hit the Georgia humidity. Even with it nearly approaching fall, Atlanta was a hell of a lot warmer than New York.
The redhead hadn't been lying; Jack's car was instantly recognizable among the others. It was a shade of robin's egg blue that immediately had the artist in him sitting up and taking notice. The build of the vehicle itself was a stark contrast from the other vehicles. Whereas newer cars made an attempt to be sleek and streamlined to better improve the aerodynamics, the Deville was straight lines and angles that projected a classic air of power.
Steve knew at some point before they returned to New York that he was going to draw that car.
Jack popped the trunk, lifting the suitcase over the edge and settling it inside neatly. He took Nicole's messenger bag as well, reaching for Steve's larger carry on and his tattered bag. Not for the first time Steve found himself speared by the large man's intense gaze, an expression of concentration on his face. "You look familiar son… you sure you haven't played before?"
"I…" He faltered for a second, at a temporary loss. "No, sir. I most certainly have not. At least, not until I enlisted."
Which wasn't a complete lie. Up until he'd received the serum Steve hadn't even dreamt of playing a sport. Not to mention the fact that he was a staunch baseball enthusiast through and through; he and Bucky would toss their old ball back and forth, and they would go to see the games whenever they could afford it.
"Hey Jack, we still have to go pick up Chauncey from the cargo facility." Nicole called, swooping to the rescue from where she leaned against the edge of the door. Unsurprisingly in the warmth, the soft top of the car and the windows were all down. Her over shirt had already been shucked off and tucked into the front seat, leaving the woman in the same pair of calf high work out pants that she'd worn to the gym and a tank top. It was definitely an odd look with the antique bowler hat resting on her head.
Steve used the man's distraction to give his friend a grateful look.
Nicole smirked, tipping her hat with a flick before pulling the back passenger door open. "Do you know how to get to the cargo facility?"
"Of course cher," Jack snorted. "Get sent here more often than I would like. After that we'll head to the house, get you settled nicely before talking about dinner. Your uncle Mark and Aunt Ellen are coming in tomorrow with Clark and Kate, and they'll be taking the second guest room."
"But what about Gabe?" Nicole asked curiously, sliding into her own seat and removing her hat so that it didn't blow away in the wind.
"He's here tonight, but he's heading back home until the party. Everyone else is probably going to stop in from time to time but up until we get closer to the date it's just going to be the immediate family." Jack said, gunning the engine. It purred to life with a quiet roar, earning the attention of quite a few people loading up their vehicles and preparing to depart. Steve watched the thoughtful expression cross his friend's face as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
He felt slightly relieved that there would be some time to collect his bearings before dealing with the entirety of Nicole's self-proclaimed huge family. Large crowds were never really his favorite thing, and while the brunt of the focus definitely would not be on him during the party he wanted to get the initial shock of seeing the fellas–and vice versa–handled in a controlled environment.
IOI
September 17, 2011, Location: 49 Warren Street, Atlanta GA
The Walker residence was absolutely gorgeous. It was a single story ranch style house with grey-green siding and a white pillared, full porch complete with the picturesque swing on one side and rocking chairs on the other. A white blossomed tree sat in full bloom in one corner of the front yard, providing a nice amount of shade as well as a splash of color that was improved upon by the raised flower beds that provided a swath of colors and fragrance.
As soon as the car pulled up into the driveway, Chauncey practically launched himself over the edge and into the yard, rolling around in the grass before tugging on his leash in an attempt to make it to the front door. Nicole laughed at her dog's antics, tugging him back gently as she brushed a hand over Steve's arm.
"I'm going to go inside. Will you give me a moment to talk to them before you come in? Sort of break the news gently?" Her voice was pitched low as she cut a look to Jack, who was once more opening the trunk.
"Yeah. You'd better hurry though, before they come out to see you." He warned, blue eyes cutting up to the house and the brief flash of motion behind the curtains.
"Right." Nicole nodded, allowing her dog to tug her up the stairs.
That left Steve alone with Jack, and he hurried to help grab some of the luggage and search for some way to stall the man. "So, Jack, Nicole tells me you're a sports announcer?"
"I am." The big man nodded. "I mostly do local coverage on the college team, that way I don't have to go far from home. Radio broadcasting is my thing, ain't got the face for TV. They don't wanna see no Cajun unless I'm teachin' m' how to hunt ducks."
He gave a good natured laugh that Steve followed, even if he didn't entirely understand the reference. "Still, that's pretty cool. I'm more of a baseball fan myself."
"Oh I don't doubt. It's more of the game up in the big apple, ain't it? Granted, down here's more focused on basketball but… I've been in football all my life. Played it through high school and college, even went pro until the accident." They were making their way slowly to the porch, and seeking to stall for more time Steve took an overly exaggerated breath of air.
"Do you mind if I ask what happened?" As likable as the man was, Steve didn't want to run the risk of insulting Nicole's step-father on their first meeting.
Not that he needed to worry; Jack just shrugged his massive shoulders with a grin that split his beard. "Nah. Tore the rotator cuff in my shoulder during a game. Healed up fine, but it wasn't the same after that so instead I took a job offered by an old friend and started doing coverage."
"Well, at least you didn't let it take you out of the game completely." The blonde offered.
Jack shook his head with a small smile on his face as his eyes lifted back to the house. "Nah, it was honestly one of the best things that could have happened to me. Em didn't want to take things too serious while I was playing pro; she had a daughter to look after and I was travelling around a lot. I was looking into retiring anyway so that we could settled down when the injury happened. I wouldn't trade a single second with my girls for all of the games in the world."
The sincerity on the man's face was heartwarming, and Steve knew that his friend had a loving family here.
"She's a teacher, right?" He questioned lightly, passing a look to the closed garage doors. It was a two car garage, and he found it a little odd that with a vehicle as nice as the Deville Jack didn't bother pulling it in.
"Yep. High school mathematics. I'd be careful if I were you, Em's sharp as a whip and she'll be the first to tell you that she's in charge." Jack warned, making him laugh again.
"I'll keep that in mind." Thinking that there should have been enough time passed to let Nicole break the news gently to her family. "We'd better get these inside."
"Now we weren't expecting Nicole to bring a friend with her; that was pretty short notice so unfortunately we don't actually have a separate room for you to stay in. Em's brother and sister-in-law are gonna be taking over our spare room when they get here tomorrow and they're bringing their daughter and four year old son who will be camping out in the basement." There was something almost apologetic in those words. "Normally we'd offer you the couch, but we actually don't have one of those, so I hope you'll be alright sharing a room with Nicky."
Had it not been for the fact that they'd already had a single bedroom at the hotel, he might have been uncomfortable. Granted they'd had separate beds during their stay in DC, but it had taken a bit of getting used to. Still, Steve was painfully reminded of the fact that people likely assumed they were already a couple.
"Not a problem. I'm sure we can inflate an air mattress or something." Jack arched a curious eyebrow at that line, though if he planned on commenting he decided against it.
The interior of the house was laid out beautifully, the living room small but with artfully arranged furniture that made it seem more spacious than it was. The floors were dark hardwood, the walls an off white color and there were two chairs and a small loveseat arranged around a wood and glass coffee table in front of the television. Shelves were tucked into the corners with sophisticated decorations breaking up the spines of the books and giving the place a lovely and warm feel. There was a small table in the back, with the kitchen counters cutting it off. Jack turned down the first hallway, passing by several doors before stopping at the one on the end.
"This is Nicky's room. I imagine she's out back on the deck talking to her papere; if you don't know already she's her grandpa's girl." Steve let a smirk curve his lips at that. He was well aware of how much Nicole loved her grandfather, she called him almost every day.
"So this is where it all started?" To say that he was looking forward to seeing her room would be an understatement. As an adult Nicole kept her things more or less neat, with only a few pictures up on her wall and most of her belongings somehow pertaining to either her work or her scientific pursuits.
"Well, until we got married Em and Nicky lived over on Cherry Avenue so they've really only been living here since she was sixteen. And then when she graduated high school she went half way across the country for college and didn't usually come back over the summers." Jack explained, pushing the door open and reaching for the light switch.
Oh… oh this was wonderful. She was never going to live this down.
The room itself was painted a shade of grey that softened the light from the overhead lamp and windows. The walls were plastered with posters, some from movies he recognized most not, though he did see one or two of his own propaganda posters tuck up in the corners. There was a huge bookshelf lined with different chemistry and fiction pieces to the point where they were practically overflowing.
The twin bed had been neatly made with a set of extra blankets and some folded up vinyl that was no doubt the air mattress.
Her desk was less impressive than the one at the apartment, and there were some beakers and test tubes that reminded him of the chemistry set Bucky had been so excited about getting for Christmas when they were kids. But the best thing, the thing that she would never live down, was the small collection of Captain America paraphernalia tucked all around her room. A coffee mug with his shield on it here, a milk crate filled with old comics on the other side of the bookshelf… and of course the well-loved teddy bear wearing his old uniform.
"Alright, here we go. Let's go see if we can find Em and the others." Jack agreed, setting down the bags. Steve followed suit, placing his bag out of the way and against the dresser as he turned for the door. It took a few steps for him to realize that the big man wasn't following behind, and the blonde turned a questioning look over his shoulder.
Jack had a pensive frown on his face, staring thoughtfully up at the poster right beside the door frame. "You know, Steve, you look a lot like Captain America. It's funny, his name was Steve too."
"That's because that is Captain America." Steve froze at that familiar voice, his heart lodging in his throat as he sensed the presence behind him. "I'll be damned. It's like you haven't changed a day."
He slowly turned around to face the speaker, blood pounding in his ears. The years that had passed were evident on Dum Dum's face, but more so on the figure behind him. Whereas Dugan looked like he could easily pass for sixty–there was still a smattering of red in his mostly greying hair–Gabe wore all of the years. Laugh lines dominated their faces, and the two men still had eyes as sharp as they had been when he had last seen them.
Steel grey curls were cropped close to a lined face, the goatee softening the lines of his face. Steve had expected them to look older than the last time that he'd seen them but… It was still a shock.
"Gabe. Dum Dum." He croaked, wishing that Nicole were beside him. Instead the redhead was behind her grandfather, brown eyes watching the scene unfold as she worried her lower lip.
"Dear god. We… we thought you were dead." Both men took a few unsteady steps down the hall, Dugan reaching out to pull Steve into a tight hug that had his ribs groaning under the force.
It was good to know that some things never changed.
"So did I…" He breathed at last as Dum Dum was replaced by Gabe. "Believe me, nobody was more surprised than I was when I woke up in the SHIELD facility."
"Dit mon la verite!" Jack gaped, staring at the men open mouthed.
Nicole took a deep breath, running her hand down her face. "In June of this year SHIELD responded to a call received from a Russian oil rig in regards to some wreckage found in the arctic. That wreckage turned out to be the remains of Johann Schmidt's plane the Valkyrie, where we found Steve preserved in the ice."
All eyes turned to her, including those of the woman who had to be her mother. "Since then we've been staying in New York, working with SHIELD to get Steve acclimated."
"You've known since June?" Dugan growled, turning to glare at his granddaughter. "You've known since June and you didn't tell me?"
"Papou…" She began uneasily, brown eyes wide as they landed on her grandfather. "I couldn't. Confidentiality purposes, and I wanted to make sure you were ready before we broke the news."
"You know how SHIELD works, Tim." Gabe came to the woman's defense, though it did little to alleviate the anger in those blue eyes.
"We still deserved to know." Steve placed a soothing hand on his friend's arm, not surprised in the slightest to find that the muscle underneath the shirt was still strong.
"It's not her fault." Steve murmured quietly, though he noticed that Nicole had straightened her spine. "Nobody outside the military knows that I'm alive."
"It's in the past now. What's important is that you're here now." Gabe added, the corners of his eyes wet.
Dugan shook his head, chewing on his lower lip in a habit that his granddaughter had obviously picked up before he let out a long sigh. "I need a drink."
"We have tea, dad." The older woman offered, her accent much less pronounced than Nicole's.
"You've already met my son-in-law, Jack, and my granddaughter. This is my eldest, Emily." The woman had her hair cut short, the ginger strands framing her face in a stylish bob as she offered her hand. She didn't share many features with her father, though they had the same nose, and she was short–5'4" at the most.
"I'll admit, I'm thrown for a loop. But welcome to my home, honey." She gave him a warm smile, taking his hand firmly. She had the look on her face of a woman who could deal with anything from an unruly child to the end of the world without breaking a sweat, but her eyes were friendly and they sparkled with life.
"Your home is beautiful, ma'am." He offered with a smile. "I'm sorry about the short notice, I hope it doesn't create any problems."
"Not at all sweetie!" Emily grinned, sweeping her arm out to the other end of the hall, where he could see bright light filtering in from a set of glass doors. "Why don't we go outside and get some sunshine? Let you fellas catch up a little bit and enjoy the southern air. It's always nice when Nicky brings friends down to visit… I do so worry about her being all alone up in New York. What with her job being so dangerous and all."
"Ma!" Nicole groaned, "Please don't embarrass me!"
"Embarrass you sugar? I would never!" She wrapped her arm around Steve's with a mischievous smile, leaning her head against him as they walked. "Though did I ever tell you about the time when she decided to cut her own bangs?"
Steve could hear Nicole's groan as they went down the hall, and as he walked he felt his heart lighten with each step. He had been worried about what would happen getting here, but he shouldn't have. He felt… accepted, as though he were already a part of the family and Dum Dum came to clasp a hand on his free shoulder.
"Or the time when she had just turned two and a half and decided that she didn't want to wear clothes." The big man grinned, his hat reclaimed and settled on his head. "Went running right into her grandmother's garden and to the rose bushes."
Steve knew then that he shouldn't have been worried in the slightest. Nicole on the other hand might have some need for concern because Steve was pretty sure he was going to learn as much embarrassing information about his friend as physically capable and he was definitely going to use it on her later.
"Tell me more." He smirked over his shoulder at the redhead, who had a particularly murderous expression on her face as she watched him.
"Well let's see, Mere's always loved roses and she used to have a great big garden of them in our back yard. So the string bean was visiting us, it was a really warm summer and decided that she didn't want to wear the dress her mom had picked out for her. I remember Meredith came chasing out after the naked girl—I was a bit preoccupied fixing the fence you see—just in time for her to take a tumble right into the rose bushes. We spent the rest of the day picking thorns out of her butt." Steve threw his head back and laughed at that tale, earning a low growl from Nicole.
I hate you. She mouthed at him, her freckles almost completely masked by the embarrassed flush on her cheeks.
"I have pictures around here somewhere of when she cut her bangs." Emily promised, laughter in her voice.
"Hey, mon cher," Jack called to distract the agent. "Let's go make some lunch?"
"Now, was this when you still lived in DC?" Steve asked curiously, allowing himself to be led out onto the deck. It was bright and sunny out, with a huge fenced in back yard that sported a small vegetable garden in one corner, a pool in the other and plenty of lush green grass and trees for shade. The patio was laid with natural looking stones, sprawled out in a wide arch from the back door. It led over to the pool, and was surrounded on the other sides by several tall and colorful shade plants. Ivy climbed up the trellis work overhead, leaving big pink trumpet flowers to droop down. Chauncey was already having the time of his life dashing all around the yard chasing after a bright orange ball.
Dum Dum settled back down in one of the cushioned chairs, fingers interlaced together as his blue eyes followed the dog absently. "Yeah. After the war we settled down out in Montana—that's where I met my Meredith, god rest her soul—and had the kids. I'm sure Nicky's already told you that it's just her mom and my son Mark. Love that old ranch, didn't leave until Howard managed to rope me into joining SHIELD. That was when we moved back up to the city."
"Tell me about her." Nicole had described her grandmother a little bit, explaining about how she'd died recently, and there was no missing the lance of pain that went across Dum Dum's features. "I was sorry to hear what happened."
"Age catches up to us all eventually." Dum Dum shrugged. "But it was actually Gabe here that introduced us. As soon as we got discharged we went to the bar for a drink and there she was. I tell you what Steve, I ain't never seen an angel until the day I saw her walk in there dressed in slacks and a button up shirt, grease all over her face from a hard day's work."
"Nah," Gabe grinned, leaning back in the sun. "What really got him was when some yucks tried getting her to leave. They weren't too crazy about the thought of a woman doing a man's work, and they were harassing her something fierce."
"Did you swoop in and save the day?" Steve asked lightly, picturing his friend coming to the woman's rescue.
Both Gabe and Dum Dum laughed at that. "You've met Nicole, Cap; she gets her temper from her grandmother, not me. I wasn't needed, because Meredith laid all six of them out flat. All I did was offer to buy her a beer."
They laughed again at that; Steve knew it would have taken a special kind of dame to make Dum Dum Dugan settle down, and he was willing to bet that Meredith had been exactly that kind of gal. They chatted after that, mostly it was Gabe and Dum Dum explaining everything that had happened to the rest of the Commandoes after the war. In between that time Nicole and her mother had brought out sandwiches and iced tea that was cold and welcome in the sticky heat before they disappeared again to do party planning.
"I still can't believe that you're sitting right in front of me." Gabe shook his head, hands shaking slightly as he pressed them into his face. "It doesn't seem possible."
"They think it was Erskine's formula," he explained, watching the ice cubes clink around in his glass. "That it somehow kept me preserved in the ice."
He shuddered slightly at the thought. He didn't have any cognitive memories of the seventy years that had passed but he did remember being cold… so cold.
Suddenly the heat didn't seem so bad.
"But what about you two? No offense Gabe, but the years have treated Dum Dum a lot kinder. You were older than me, so you have to be…"
"One hundred this year," The man thumped his chest. "And still fit as a fiddle."
"But how?" The two men shared a look between one another before turning back to face Steve.
"It's called the Infinity Serum, and I'm sure Nicky can explain it to you better than I can. Hell, I'm not even sure how it works, all I know is that before I retired, SHIELD would come around yearly and give me this shot. Supposed to keep me young longer." He shrugged a shoulder. "Let me keep working, and it gave me enough time to watch my youngsters grow up."
"I didn't stay with the organization, so the offer wasn't extended to me. Not that I'm complaining, I've been happy with the time I've been given." Gabe laughed, noticing that Steve's jaw had dropped.
"Wow. I…" He fumbled for his words, hands fluttering impotently in front of him.
"Crazy? Yeah. You're telling me Rogers." Dum Dum smirked, taking another sip of tea.
"Hey old men?" Nicole popped her head out of the door, her outfit changed from comfortable clothes to a pair of shorts and a beaded top, fingers tapping against the glass. "Mom says it's time to divvy up cars to head out to the restaurant."
He hadn't even realized how much time had passed, but sure enough the sun had gone from sitting high in the sky to dipping towards the horizon.
"I'm sorry, is that sass from you string bean?" Dum Dum growled playfully, jumping to his feet. "Because I still have plenty of stories that I can share."
Nicole's eyes widened at that, the redhead letting out a shriek when her grandfather started chasing her. "Papou no! Merde!"
Steve was left behind with Gabe, the two laughing as they watched the younger woman flee in terror from her grandfather. This vacation was already going much better than expected, and he realized that—not for the first time—he had been worried about nothing.
IOI
Translations (Cajun and French):
Et j'espère qu'un vieux en sueur et qui pue te fasses un câlin et que ton visage se retrouve en plein dans ces aisselles poilues.. I hope you get hugged by a stinky, sweaty old man who shoves your face into his hairy armpit.
Et j'espère qu'une bande de gamins de six ans bien grippés, balance leurs morves sur toi. And I hope you get snotted on by a pack of six year olds with the flu.
Mon bebette! My little monster!
Mon cher. My dear.
Qui C'est q'ca? Who is this?
Gaienne. Girlfriend.
Cher. Dear.
Dit mon la verite! Tell me the truth!
