You'll always be my Google – Steve Rogers
I hummed to myself as I sculpted a vase using clay. This was one of my favourite past times when I wasn't at work for SHIELD, I loved to get creative with art and music; but it usually expressed how alone I was. I carefully etched the names and dates of my parents into the side of the wet vase before placing it to the side so I could put it in my small kiln later on after visiting their graves.
I quickly wiped my hands as my phone began to ring, but before I could answer it the caller hung up and I received a text instead. I opened it and was demanded back at SHIELD headquarters as one of the planes had stopped functioning; apparently I was the only one who could fix it. Out of all the mechanics that work at SHIELD Fury trusts me the most as I actually focused on my work instead of doing it half-heartedly like most of the men ones.
After nearly an hour driving I had arrived at the headquarters location which I will keep under lock and key so that no unauthorised personnel can get in. I made my way towards the air craft hanger, receiving some nasty looks from some of the other mechanics along the way, and immediately saw which aeroplane Fury needed fixed. It was in terrible condition and I had a feeling I'd be here for a while.
"Guess my parents will have to wait." I muttered, taking off my jacket and rolling up my shirt sleeves; thankful I was wearing old clothes from handling clay before.
About an hour had passed and so far I had managed to completely replace the windshield and make a start on the engine which made my hands immediately turn black from all the grease and oil that spewed out once I'd opened it up. This also meant that the men were back from wherever they'd gone to and I had to put up with their insulting and intensely frustrating remarks and 'jokes'.
"Hey, hey, what's loud and obnoxious?!" one of them yelled, making the other laugh as I continued doing my job which they should be doing too.
"A woman!" they cheered, making me roll my eyes at the lame attempt to infuriate me.
"You actually, I'm the only one here being quiet and actually doing my job. No wonder Fury never asks you to fix the most important things in here." I remarked, using my arm to brush a piece of hair off my face as my hands were dirty.
"Oi, what was that?!"
"Nothing, your brains wouldn't be able to figure it out anyway." I sighed, realising my comments would just go right over their heads.
"Oh! I have one! How are women like aeroplanes?"
"They both have cockpits!" another laughed, making me hear them all high five as I shook my head.
"Hey, that's enough! You don't treat women like that and you certainly won't use that type of language in front of a woman who is higher up than you in this agency." The familiar voice of Steve Rogers met my ears and I couldn't help the small smile that graced my lips as he walked in defending me.
I turned around and had to snap my mouth shut as I realised he had come in shirtless as his chest was damp with what I presumed was sweat. I swallowed nervously and fought the blush that tried to stain my cheeks as he came closer.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, finally managing to face him again to see him smile and grab a cloth from the side table.
"I heard them again so I decided to try and make them stop." He replied, wiping the cloth against my cheek and making me blush lightly as I realised I must have had an oil stain there from where I'd brushed my hair back.
"Oh, and here's me thinking you came for a technological question." I smiled, making him laugh as he threw the cloth back onto the table.
"Not today, I think I have everything almost covered. But you'll always be my Google when I need it." Steve smiled, making me giggle softly before plugging my finger into the hose pipe in the plane's engine as oil squirted out; only just missing Steve. "I can come back later of you like, you seem busy right now." He offered.
"No, you can stay if you like. I just have to mend the engine and then it should be done. Unless those idiots come back and muck something else up."
"I've always wanted to watch how you work." He remarked, taking a seat on the table used to hold the tools after he'd cleared a small space. "I won't get dirty from here will I?"
"I don't know, will you?" I pressed my hand against his chest before taking a spanner which I needed, leaving the imprint of my hand in oil right over the left side of his chest. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow and I shrugged innocently, making him shake his head as he released a chuckle.
"I always get either grease or oil on me when I come to see you."