I bet you're all dying to wonder what's going to happen next. From all the reviews I've been getting, I know that you are. To my guests who reviewed on this story who I cannot reply to, thank you so much for reviewing! As for the rest of you, you all are awesome! I appreciate your support! Enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-One

Practices with Steve had come and gone the past two weeks. He hadn't said much to me since that Friday night; just the usual 'hello,' 'goodbye' and small chit-chat in-between. Coffee mornings had become lifeless and far from the comfortable atmosphere it once been. It was like a stranger was sitting in the room with me. But this particular morning was different.

I stepped out of the shower and got around, hoping that maybe today would be a better day. He'd smiled at me yesterday, at least. Although it looked like a pained effort, it was a smile nonetheless.

"I hope he's not in a foul mood." I told myself in the mirror as I straightened the last unruly strand of hair. I stepped out, letting the smell of coffee waft into my nostrils. I sniffed a few times in expectation, but the room was stale. No coffee. And worse, no Steve.

"What?" I looked around the apartment floor, half-expecting for him to jump out and yell 'surprise!' But that didn't happen. The room was completely empty.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Is Steve okay?"

"Captain Rogers is fine. He is fixing a pot of coffee on his floor at this very moment."

What?

I checked my phone for any voice mails or text messages, but there were none to speak of in the past two weeks. I sank down on the couch, my head resting on my hands.

"Does he look okay?" I asked the A.I.

"He appears perfectly healthy, ma'am." I didn't even care that he had called me ma'am twice today. It seemed silly to reprimand him now.

I sat there in silence, running over the facts in my mind, hopelessly searching for anything that I had done. It couldn't be the hand touch, could it? Was I that repulsive of a human being that he didn't want to see or come near me?

He texted me a short time later to get down to the garage so he could drive me to school. It lacked its usual friendliness, and that was just a text message. I didn't want to go down there, but a particular exam forced me to take a ride with him.

That afternoon, I was sitting in the lab with Bruce and Tony, hoping for a little distraction. But the work barely kept my brain from straying off of Steve.

"You alright, kid?" Tony asked me as I mindlessly piddled with a beaker.

"I'm alright." I lied.

"For one who has relatives as master assassins, you're not a very good liar." Bruce responded with skepticism. I remained silent, on the verge of decision between telling them on fear of sounding ridiculous or unrealistic. I was going to go with ridiculous.

"Hannah, you can tell us." Bruce pushed away from his work, both of them now looking at me intently.

"Has Steve been acting strange around you two lately?" They gave me quizzical looks, ones that were odd for scientists that knew everything about anything.

"What do you mean by strange? Too patriotic? Too self-righteous? Too..."

"Tony!" Bruce and I scolded and he grinned.

"Just thought I'd add a little humor." But his smile quickly turned serious again.

"He doesn't say much to me anymore. He's quiet at practice and he even missed this morning's coffee visit. I know it sounds childish, but I think he's shutting me out."

The two were confused now. Obviously they hadn't noticed.

So it was just me he was mad at.

Like that didn't make me feel worse.

"We can talk to him." Tony offered, but I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was an intervention.

"Maybe he just needs some space. Something's bothering him and he needs some time to work it out."

Bruce was right. We all knew Steve had his moments. Around the anniversary that he had crashed in the ocean over seventy years ago, he would keep to himself. As much as it pained him, he couldn't help but think about how that moment had changed his life forever. But it wasn't around that time now.

"Thanks guys."

"And if he doesn't straighten up soon, I'll give him a few rounds with my new Iron Man suit!" Tony unveiled his new suit in the corner with pride. It was green with a black stripe running along the sides. "I call it 'Iron Hulk.'"

Bruce shook his head in embarrassment at possibly the worst name ever.

Later...

"Harder!" Steve ordered as I punched the sand bag in front of me. I hit it as hard and fast as I could, throwing numerous combos at my lifeless opponent. My instructor's face was rigid, his lips forming a straight line. I couldn't tell if he was angry or disappointed. It was now three weeks he had been acting like this and he showed no sign of changing his mood. It had gone from what one could see as PMS to a complete change in personality.

He had missed out on several mornings worth of coffee with me now, his appearances lessening more and more. He gave me a small smile that lasted less than a millisecond and the bike rides to school were painfully silent. I desperately wanted to say something, but if I even tried to utter a word it was caught in my throat. Aunt Nat had certainly noticed a difference in his behavior if she saw us together. I told her it was nothing, but if Steve kept this act up, it wasn't going to remain that way for long.

I could feel the sweat pouring down my face as the thud of the punching bag against my fists continued. Each day he had pushed me harder and harder. I didn't know what he was hoping for with a a month-and-a-half full of practices, but if he was hoping I'd turn into a mean, lean fighting machine, he was dead wrong.

"Stop and take a break." He commanded and I let my arms fall wearily to my sides. I made my way over to the bench and took a much-needed gulp of water.

Steve took that time to start in on the punching bag. To my surprise, he hit it full force. His muscles flexed as he pounded the object relentlessly. He grunted as his fist connected with it, sending it flying high opposite him. The look on his face was angry. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen him so furious.

With a final lurch, his fist connected with the bag and it went flying onto the gym floor. He heaved in great gulps of air, the sweat pouring off his face. He stared at the bag for a few moments then looked to me.

And that's when I knew. It really was me he was mad at. I mean, I had already known, but now I was sure. With every punch he had made to that bag, it was me he was hitting.

"I'll go get another one." He said quietly.

"Don't bother." I choked out, trying to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes and threatening to rain down my cheeks. I couldn't take it anymore. I practically ran to the elevator, not even glancing in his direction to see if he followed.

"To your floor, ma'am?" I nodded to the AI and the elevator started up.

I blew it. I don't know how I did, but I blew it.

I felt like such a child, huddled in that elevator and throwing myself a pity party because my friend was angry at me. But I didn't care. He no longer cared about our friendship. And I was at a loss as to why.

It's sort of a cliffhanger that I leave you at, folks. Sorry to say our Steve is not the person he once was. I think I'm a little sad. :( Anyway, hope you all enjoyed!