AN: This chapter is quite a doozy. Very long, but we're getting into it now and finding out more and more about Charlotte and Steve. Hop you enjoy!
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.
The next morning I woke up bright and early, determined to make it work on time. Despite Stella's insistence that the shop was fine if I took another day off, I knew that she was bluffing. Stella was notorious for understaffing the shop and trying to do everything herself, which while admirable, was far from healthy for a 73 year old. I entered the store through the back, dropping off my package and things in the tiny break room.
"Stella?" I called out, wandering through to the front, noticing that my yarn catastrophe had been cleaned up and organized. I passed the offending footstool leaning against the aisle and hissed underneath my breath. Stupid thing.
"Charlotte? What are you doing here?" I came to the front to see Stella, sitting at her spot on the counter, flipping casually through an issue of Cosmo. She looked up at me in confusion and concern. "You should still be in bed! You had a concussion!"
"Yes, I had a concussion, but it wasn't a bad one, I promise. I'm fine now, Steph even cleared me for work." Stella looked reluctant but nodded.
"Fine. But nothing crazy for you today young lady. The balls of mustard are still waiting to be reskeined. Do you think you could handle that today?" Stella asked, obviously still concerned, watching me carefully for signs of faintness. I sighed.
"Yes, Stella. As much as its going to crush my soul to stare at mustard yellow yarn for a few hours, I can definitely handle it." Stella grinned.
"There's my Charlotte. Go and head out back, they've been stacked in the storeroom. I'll let you know if I need any help back here," she picked up her Cosmo and began reading again. I trudged back to the storeroom, setting up a station for reskeining the mustard yellow yarn.
Just as I suspected. She hadn't asked anyone else to come in and probably hadn't covered my shift yesterday either. I sighed heavily. The woman, while totally badass and independent, was getting older. I worried about her a lot, here all the time, alone. There were only a few of us other than Stella and I who were in on a regular basis. Mary had just gone on maternity leave, Joanne was sketchy at best and Peter was frankly only useful during the holidays. It was just Stella and I most of the time, which was fine as long as I wasn't incapacitated, which with my level of clumsiness was more often than would be expected.
My shift ended much sooner than I expected, and with a surprising amount of mustard yellow balls created from 3 huge skeins of mustard yellow. Joanne came into the storeroom to find me surrounded by mustard yellow and took two steps back immediately.
"Help me," I begged. Joanne shook her head, one ample hip cocked to the side, fist resting on it.
"Honey there is no help for the wicked," she muttered, her thick hispanic accent hanging on each word.
"What do you mean?" I asked. "I haven't been any more wicked than usual." I rose, trying to maneuver my way out of the fields of mustard yellow. Joanne offered her hand to help me over a particularly high mound.
"Oh yes you have. Captain America comes in here and walks you home and you don't tell anyone?" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up.
"Joanne, I've been concussed for the past day! I wasn't even allowed to knit!" She waved her hand at me dismissively. "Which, by the way, how the hell do you know that Captain America was in the store?"
"How else? Stella told me! She said she was so excited when he came in but barely restrained herself from making a fuss over it. And then you got hurt and she didn't want to disrupt the 'instant chemistry.'" I scoffed.
"Chemistry. Okay." I said skeptically, collecting balls of mustard yellow and tossing them into a nearby box.
"Oh yes honey. Stella said that when he came from the yarn aisle with you in his arms, SHE almost fainted. Said she was worried about the two of you going anywhere near the paper products in the front in case you spontaneously combusted. That's how much chemistry there was." Joanne explained, hands moving wildly as she followed me back to the break room.
"No, there was no chemistry. He's a nice guy, a gentleman, but that's it." I told her, shrugging on my coat and picking up the box of treats I had put together for Steve.
"Mhmm," Joanne said unconvincingly, "Then who are those treats for? I can smell them from here. Apple pie?"
"No, its not apple pie. And it's also none of your business." I picked up the box and swept out the door.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do! No, do the things! Do all the things! He's Captain fricken America!" she called out after me. I shook my head and waved goodbye, making my way down the block. I was going uptown this evening. Someone at Avengers Tower deserved a visit.
It was surprisingly easy to get into the main level of Avengers Tower, east coast home of Stark Industries. What wasn't easy was getting past the head of security who had been called out when I told them that I had something for Steve Rogers. Harold, or "Happy" Hogan, a name I saw endless amounts of irony in, was not going to let me anywhere near Steve until I explained in full why I was there, the full ingredient list of the treats in the white bakery box and the nature of my relationship with one of the Avengers, who he solemnly had sworn to protect only a year earlier, as he had explained to me at length.
"I'm telling you. Steve-"
"Captain Steve Rogers," Happy interrupted.
"Captain Steve Rogers visited the craft store that I work at on Monday. I took a fall while he was there and injured myself. Concerned for my well being, Steve-Captain Steve Rogers," I corrected quickly, "walked me to my apartment to make sure that I was okay. So I decided to bring him some presents to thank him. That's all."
"And what's inside the box?" he asked.
"None of your business." I replied. Happy turned a shade of purple I had previously believed to only exist in Crayola 64 pack crayons.
"I am the head of security in this building ma'am. I need to know what is inside this box before I give you any sort of clearance!" he shouted.
"Yes, please, tell us what's in the box," came a voice from behind him that almost made my heart stop. Tony Stark appeared at Happy's side, signature sunglasses perched on a well tanned and aristocratic nose, sly smirk on his lips. If I had ever thought that Tony Stark was not Ironman, I would have changed my mind then and there. The man exuded bad boy, power, and wealth. He turned the smirk on me and my mouth went dry. Tony Stark was an incredibly attractive man, well aware of his charms and I immediately felt like a deer in headlights. Very expensive, probably Lamborghini headlights.
"So. What's in the box?" he picked it up and sniffed, "Smells good. Apple pie?" I shook my head. "Huh, could've sworn. What's this girl doing here Happy?"
"She's trying to deliver whatever is in the box to Rogers. Claims that he saved her life yesterday and she wants to say thank you." Tony rolled his eyes.
"Well not exactly. He was helpful, but I don't think I would've died if he hadn't been there," I muttered, finally recovering my senses. Tony raised an eyebrow.
"Really? See Happy, if she was one of the fangirl legions she would've told you that he saved her life cuz she jumped off a bridge or something. What'd Capsicle do for you that's got you bringing him pastries?"
"I gave myself a concussion at work. I'm kind of a klutz." I admitted sheepishly. "He was there and walked me home. I was kind of a bitch to him that day so I thought that I would bring him some baked goods. He left this note when I woke up the next morning." I offered the note and Tony took it, reading it carefully, "It had this address on it so I came here to say thank you. I was simply asking if Steve was here before the rest of your security team sicced sunshine over here on me." Tony smirked and looked at me for a second. It was slightly unnerving, that direct stare. You could practically see the gears turning and spinning within his mind. Turning and spinning at supersonic speeds that is. He grinned, standing and replacing his shades.
"Let her in." he told Happy, "Restrict her access to Steve's floor." as Happy sputtered he turned back to me. "I like you kid. Don't know why, but I do. What's in the box?"
"None of your business," I replied matter of factly. Tony chuckled softly and turned to leave.
"Yeah, I like her." he muttered.
Even with Tony Stark's apparent approval, Happy still ran me through the gamut of security protocols. Getting through customs would have been easier. A half an hour later I had been handed my own badge and whisked onto a huge glass elevator. Clutching my shiny new badge and white bakery box, I began to second guess my decision on coming here. After all, the last time I saw Steve I insulted him multiple times, fell an embarrassing amount, and almost kissed him without any real reason. Steve was a gentleman. Just because he walked me home and brought my stuff back, that didn't mean that he liked me. And for god sakes, he's Captain America. He could literally have any woman. Ever. Like Tony said earlier, the fangirl legions would jump off bridges to get with him. There's no way he was even remotely interested. At this point I looked up and realized that I had been pacing the huge elevator and the bakery box in my hands was looking a little worse for wear. I groaned and leaned back against the back glass wall of the elevator.
"This is a huge mistake." I muttered.
"No mistake miss, you're headed to the correct floor. Captain Rogers is situated on the 29th floor, estimated time of arrival 1 minute." came a proper sounding British voice from the ceiling. I jumped and stood ramrod straight, searching the elevator ceiling for camera's.
"Hello?" I asked softly, "Is somebody watching?"
"Sorry miss, I did not introduce myself. I am JARVIS, Mr. Stark's personal AI and operating system for the tower, though I do not have any visual capabilities I am able to monitor your heat signature and vital signs." the voice replied congenially.
"His AI...so you're a robot?" I wondered aloud.
"In a way miss. I control the technological aspects of Tower, security or otherwise. I am here to answer any questions the Avengers or any of their guests may have," he replied.
"Huh. JARVIS?"
"Yes Miss."
"Is this a bad idea?"
"Do you wish to go back to floor level Miss?"
"No. Well, yes. I don't know." I answered hesitantly.
"Mr. Rogers is currently not in his apartment if that's what you are concerned about," JARVIS replied, and I could swear that I heard a hint of amusement in his voice. I took a deep breath. "And you've arrived Miss. Level 29." the doors swung open. "Simply ask if you are of need of anything" said JARVIS, " Mr. Rogers is currently on the training level and has been notified of your arrival."
"Thanks JARVIS," I said as I stepped out of the elevator and into the huge apartment in front of me. The place was sparse, almost completely chrome and white and very obviously unlived in. It certainly was large, but for the life of me I couldn't imagine Steve here. It just seemed so...empty.
I walked through the huge foyer and living room, past a beautiful kitchen, my heels clacking on the marble floors. Huge, plate glass floor to ceiling windows made up the entire far wall, looking out onto all of Manhattan. It was a killer view, and as I wandered around I noticed a stray sock, a pair of well taken care of leather shoes and a leather jacket slung over a chair at the dining room table. I smiled, remembering how the leather had felt against my shoulder as Steve had walked me home earlier that week. As I made my way around the dining room table (completely made out of glass and chrome) I froze, noticing a large metal shield leaning against the far wall. Captain America's red white and blue freedom shield sat, mocking me and pulling me back to reality. This was a mistake. He was Captain fricken America and I was some klutzy 27 year old wanderer with no goals or achievements who had injured herself in front of him, insulted him and was now wandering unsupervised around his apartment.
"This is insane," I muttered. I dropped the bakery box on the table, left my hastily scribbled note on top and began making my way to the elevator. I had dropped off my gifts, said thank you in my note: my job was done. If he wanted to contact me, its not like he didn't know where I worked or where I lived. The whole fact that I was there was frankly more than absurd. As I reached the top of the steps leading to the elevator, the doors swung open and there stood a sweaty, tall, incredibly handsome Steve Rogers in sweatpants, sneakers and a white shirt, looking appropriately shocked to see someone wandering around his apartment.
"Uh...hi?" I said, feeling an awful lot like Cinderella frozen on on the steps post pumpkin transformation. Steve continued to look shocked as he tossed a white towel over one broad shoulder, stepping out of the elevator. "I came to say thank you. Tony, um, said I could come up, which Happy was not pleased about, but he let me in anyway after grilling me and taking my fingerprints for some strange reason, and JARVIS said you weren't in so I was just going to drop off a note and a thank you present and then you came in and well, that's where we're at." I stopped to take a breath, "And that was a ridiculous amount of rambling. I'll just go now." I made my way to the elevator, my face on fire and head down. Steve reached out and grabbed my arm gently, pulling me back.
"Charlotte," he said, his tone light, "Charlotte, look at me." Reluctantly I looked up slowly to see Steve smiling at me, a half smile that revealed a top row of perfect white teeth. Of course his dental hygiene was on point as well. Could he get any more perfect?
"I'm glad you came by. I was actually debating coming over to the shop to check in on you." he passed in front of me, heading down the steps into the living room. "Come on in. I just got back from the gym, so I'm not exactly fresh. Give me a sec to shower and change and I'll be right out." He turned back to look at me, still frozen on the top step. He grinned encouragingly, walking back towards me. "Please, come in, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable. The couch is softer than it looks. I'll be right back." He looked up at me from the bottom step. His expression fell a little bit. "Unless you have to go? Are you late for work? Do you need a ride?" he climbed the steps toward me, now looking concerned and unsure. I couldn't help but smile.
"No, boy scout, I don't need a ride. I already did my shift today." Steve smiled at the 'boy scout' comment I followed him back down the steps.
"Okay. I'll be right back I promise." He jogged into what I assumed was the bedroom before turning back once more. "Don't leave, okay?" he checked hesitantly. I grinned and shook off my coat.
"I won't, I promise," I chuckled. He flashed me a bright smile and disappeared again behind a doorway. I heard the shower running faintly and draped my coat over one of the white dining room table chairs, settling once more to do a little wandering. Peeking inside the kitchen, I was immediately distracted by beautiful appliances, an incredibly well stocked fridge and cabinets full of all of the kitchen gadgets anyone could ever want. The chef inside of me turned green in envy as I ran my hands over a beautiful top of the line Kitchenaid stand mixer.
"Ugh, much want," I groaned softly.
"Want what?" I turned to find Steve drying his hair, now fully dressed in a pair of khakis and plaid button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow revealing a set of truly impressive forearms.
"Uh, the Kitchenaid mixer," I admitted sheepishly, "I like to bake and I've always wanted a Kitchenaid mixer but they're insanely expensive." I walked over to the table, "Someday I plan on owning a fire engine red one. Someday when I eventually have the counterspace for it." I picked up the bakery box and offered it to Steve. "But for now, this is for you." Steve's eyebrows raised and he smirked.
"For me? Really?" he took the box gingerly, "A little heavy, what's in here?"
"That my friend seems to have been the question of the day," he sent me a puzzled look, and I shook my head, "Just open it."
Hi pulled off the bakery string and opened the box, revealing two rows of small, square apple tarts.
"Apple tarts?" he asked, grinning.
"Yeah. I thought about an apple pie but figured it was just too cliche."
"Cliche?"
"Yeah, Captain America. As american as apple pie? It just seemed too easy."
"So you made apple tarts," he chuckled softly, "They smell delicious."
"Hopefully they taste delicious. I haven't tested this recipe yet. Go ahead, try one. Don't worry, Happy already tested them for poison." Once again, Steve looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. "Don't worry about it." He took one an tasted it gingerly, a look of intense concentration on his face. He took one bite, then another, still thinking carefully.
"Are they okay? If not, that's completely fine, I understand. I probably added too much cinnamon. I tend to go heavy on the spices when it comes to anything apple flavored-" I stopped as Steve grinned and looked up at me.
"Charlotte, these are absolutely delicious," he said earnestly, taking another bite. I let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank god. There should be something else in there, underneath the wax paper." Steve pulled back the paper carefully, pulling out two sketch pads and a set of drawing pencils. "I thought that you came in the store for a those and you never got a chance to get them, so…" I trailed off sheepishly. Steve smiled and set the sketchpads aside.
"Thanks Charlotte, this is incredibly thoughtful, but I'm not sure why you brought these to me." he tore another piece off of the tart, examining it before putting in his mouth.
"Well, I really came to apologize. I was a complete jerk on Monday, and you were honestly just trying to be nice. I was not nice to you and even though I was concussed, that's no excuse. And then you went and brought my stuff back to my apartment for me and I just wanted to thank you," I explained. He smiled at me winningly.
"There's really no apology necessary. I would've done the same for anyone. You practically fell into my arms, I couldn't resist," he said, a faint blush touching his cheeks. I smiled.
"Yeah, I was just really lucky that you were there or I probably would have actually ended up in the hospital."
"You are feeling better, right? I wanted to check in, but I wasn't sure how appropriate that would be," he asked, concerned and slightly embarrassed, "I'm not really up to date on 21st century etiquette."
"I'm feeling much better. Steph cleared me for work this morning so I'm all set. It really wasn't that bad of a concussion, though the bump on the back of my head begs to differ." I reached back, touching the lump tenderly.
"Well, I'm glad that you're feeling better. I felt so guilty leaving you there like that, but I really wasn't sure what to do. Things are so different than they used to be, and it already felt like I was intruding. I mean, you didn't want me to walk you home or anything, but I couldn't just let you go without-" I reached out, placing my hand on his arm to calm his rambling, smiling up at him.
"Steve, it really was fine. I should've been less of a jerk. What you did was really nice, and something the world could do with a bit more of. That's why I came tonight. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, and thank you for taking such good care of me." His forearm was warm, soft dark blond hairs covering pale skin. I looked up at him, his blue eyes capturing my attention and snapping me back to reality. I withdrew my hand quickly and stood.
"And now that I've crossed that off my to-do list I should probably get going." I grabbed my coat and headed for the elevator. Steve was right behind me though and reached me on the top step of the stairs.
"Charlotte wait," he climbed the steps, rising to my level. "I just wanted to thank you for the tarts. And the sketchpads," realizing that his hand was still on my arm he dropped it, standing awkwardly.
"Oh, well, you're welcome," I murmured, similarly unsure of what to do with my hands. I reached out and patted his bicep awkwardly before blushing and turning away, but before I could, I felt him grab my hand.
"Charlotte, I-" he began and then stopped, seemingly unsure of how to continue.
"Yes, Steve? I asked, turning to face him.
"Well, I was just wondering if- I mean, if you wanted…" he trailed off hesitantly, looking down and blushing. I grinned. Captain America was nervously trying to ask me out and it was probably the cutest thing I had ever seen.
"Come on Blue eyes, if you can fight off an alien invasion, you can ask an already willing girl out on a date," I prodded, smiling up at him. His head popped up, looking confused and then breaking out into a million-watt grin. He cleared his throat.
"Charlotte, would you like to go to dinner with me sometime? Tomorrow maybe?" he asked, taking my other hand in his. I smiled and bit my lip.
"I'd like that quite a bit," I murmured. A look of relief passed over his face before he grinned again.
"Good. I'll come pick you up around 7?" he asked.
"Yeah, that sounds good." I hiked my bag back up onto my shoulder, and let go of his hand, ready to make my way to the elevator.
"Oh, and Charlotte," I turned back to find myself suddenly wrapped in two strong arms, a large hand on the back of my neck and two perfect lips against mine. His lips were warm and soft on mine, slowly moving, savoring each second, sending shivers straight down my spine. I shuddered quickly and brought my hands up to a pair of strong broad shoulders as he brought my body closer to his. Warmth washed through me as he deepened the kiss, his firm body pressed against mine. I let out a little sigh of satisfaction, and he broke the kiss to look into my eyes briefly, holding my face in his hand.
"Thanks for the tarts," he murmured, turning me towards the elevator. I stumbled forward, dazed and stepped in, turning back to face him. He smiled, "I'll see you tomorrow, Charlotte." I waved faintly as the doors closed and stood there for a second, bringing a hand up to touch my now sensitive lips, the taste of him lingering there.
"Miss?" JARVIS's voice broke me from my trance.
"Yes?"
"Which floor miss?"
"Oh, uh, ground level I suppose."
"Very good miss"
I leaned back against the wall, still in a state of shock. I had a date tomorrow. A date with Captain America. The same Captain America who had just kissed me senseless. A stupid grin covered my face as I stepped out of the elevator.
"Goodnight JARVIS."
"Goodnight Miss."
Happy watched me stride through the lobby. I held up my badge.
"I'll be keeping this for a bit," I said smugly as I stepped out onto the street. I had a feeling I'd be needing it in the future.
AN: Whew, long chapter. Hope you all enjoyed! Please review!