AN: Hello all! I'm so happy about the response this has been getting so far! I'm really getting into the nitty gritty of the story in my writing process so I'm excited to start sharing those chapters with you guys soon, but for now...
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers. :(
"I hate you, you know that right?"
"Mm-hmm, I am well aware," I answered Steph, flinging another piece of clothing out of my overstuffed closet.
"You are going on a date tonight with Captain America. The Captain America, red white and blue shield wielding , patriotic, frozen in the ice, saved the world multiple times Captain America," Steph continued, sitting on the edge of my unmade bed in the middle of my war zone of a bedroom.
"His name is Steve Rogers," I countered, "He is just a normal, very handsome, unusually strong guy, who happens to also be a superhero." I groaned in realization, emerging from my closet.
"This is a terrible idea," I said, falling back onto my bed, grabbing a pillow to cover my face.
"No. No, this not a terrible idea. This is a good idea," Steph said reassuringly, tearing the pillow from my hands. I threw an arm over my eyes in response. "You said that he kissed you, that he was happy to see you. Obviously he likes you or I'm sure he would've just kicked you out. And you brought him baked goods. No one can resist your baking," she reasoned.
"Maybe. Or maybe he just felt bad because I brought him the thank you gifts. Maybe he was just being polite. Maybe they kissed more in the 1940's, I don't know!" I sprung up, throwing my hands in the air.
"You're being ridiculous," Steph murmured.
"I am not. Did you see him when he was here on Monday? Well I did, and then I saw him again last night and he was even more perfect when I wasn't concussed. He was polite and sweet and bashful and he has these forearms," I groaned, turning back to my closet and clenching my fists.
"Forearms?" Steph asked, bewildered.
"Yes, forearms. You know when really cute guys have these manly forearms, especially when their sleeves are rolled up?" I plopped on the bed next to her, holding out my own arms for reference, "See, girl forearms are just not that attractive, they're too skinny. I mean comparing it to the whole idea of female legs would be a closer equivalent.
"So men's forearms are the equivalent to our legs?" Steph asked, still very puzzled.
"Yes! See its not really indecent to show off your legs and men still appreciate them. They're like a non-indecent but still really sexy thing right? Well forearms are like that for men. You can tell a lot about a guy based on the shape of his forearms. Skinny or too pale or not very hairy, they tend to be reflective of what the rest of the body is like and you don't feel weird ogling them."
"No, not weird at all," Steph murmured disbelievingly.
"You think I'm crazy, but its important. Look at Tim's forearms the next time you see him. Tim has nice forearms, thats how I knew he'd be good for you," I rambled on, referencing Steph's longtime boyfriend Tim.
"Uh huh." Steph muttered, "And what do Steve's forearms tell you?"
"That he's perfect. He just has these muscled, strong looking forearms that are just the right level of hairy, and you can just faintly see veins running underneath, so you know he's strong but not too bulked up. And they lead to these huge hands, with long fingers and wide palms and-" I shuddered and closed my eyes, remembering just how they felt underneath my hand the night before.
"Well aside from your intense fetish for forearms, what else is making you think this is a bad idea?" Steph asked, shaking me from my memory.
"What else? What's making you think this is a good idea? He's Captain fucking America. He's perfect. He could have any girl he wanted and he picks the one who insulted him and then broke into his apartment?!" I exclaimed, laying back on the bed. Steph joined me, grabbing my hand in hers.
"Obviously, he picked you because he likes you. What in the world makes you think that you're not good enough for Captain America?" she asked looking at me. I stood up and motioned to my body.
"This. This makes me think that I'm not good enough for Captain America. I'm too short, too fat, my hips are too big and I believe my ass might have gained an orbiting planet this fall!" I exclaimed. Steph sat up and frowned at me.
"You my friend, are full of shit. I'd give my left arm for an ass like yours. You have shapes, curves! And damn girl, your boobs are just fantastic." I raised my hand to my D cups self consciously. Steph stood grabbing my hands and facing me. "You are gorgeous. Bombshell level and you're so smart, Miss PhD! And obviously he already gets your wit if he doesn't mind being called 'boy scout' every five minutes. He likes you." she squeezed my hands reassuringly. "Now, lets find something devastatingly sexy for you to wear. You have plenty of pieces in here to play up sexy but classy and that's exactly what you need for tonight." She pulled out a navy dress, knee length, that I hadn't worn in ages. "Here, put this on. Wear the red heels, curl your hair and put on some sexy underwear. Oh! And a garter belt!" she exclaimed, running over to my dresser.
"I am not wearing a garter belt or sexy underwear on a first date," I replied, taking the blue dress from her hands and examining it carefully.
"Well, technically, its a third date. Concussion, break-in and then tonight," she said, ticking off her fingers while rummaging through my underwear drawer. "And either way, just because you're wearing sexy underwear doesn't mean you have to show anyone. It's an instant confidence booster, like red nail polish on your toes or a nice red lip. Ah! Found 'em!" she tossed my garter belt at me and grinned, "There you go. Just put that stuff on and get ready. It's almost 6 and I've got to get to the hospital. Text me tomorrow and I'll come over to get all of the sordid details." She walked over, pulled me into a hug and pecked my cheek softly before hurrying out the door.
"Bye!" I called out before sitting back on my bed and looking into the mirror on my vanity, feeling completely overwhelmed, clutching the navy dress in one hand, my favorite garter belt in the other.
Steve sat at the round table in the common room of the tower, sketchpad in hand, staring out at the New York City skyline thoughtfully. The city was relatively calm, sun shining and reflecting off of the buildings, the sky a clear robin's egg blue. It would be a great day to sketch the city, but looking down at the sketchpad in his lap, Steve instead saw Charlotte's face staring up at him, a soft smile on her plump lips. Steve sighed and set down his pencil.
Like some sort of miracle, she had been there last night, standing in his apartment like a gift. He had been thinking about her all that day, taking out three consecutive punching bags before engaging in a particularly challenging sparring match with Natasha to calm his nerves. Nothing had seemed to distract him. In fact, he had been going up to his apartment that evening, ready to head over the shop to check in on her and maybe get the chance to speak to her again. But then she had been there, standing on the top step of the stairs, looking ridiculously cute and guilty, like she had been caught in the act of some crime.
He smiled softly to himself. JARVIS had notified him that someone had been allowed into his quarters, but he had just thought that Tony had showed up and overridden the security code to bug him again. When he saw her, ruby red coat slung over her arm, dark hair pulled up halfway and curled softly, gray sweater covering slender arms, buttoned at her narrow waist, in a black skirt made out of some kind of light fabric that seemed to flutter every time she moved.
Thankfully she had begun rambling, allowing Steve to gather his wits again. She was adorable when she spoke, expressively using both hands to punctuate points. He vaguely remembered her mentioning Tony and Happy before she stopped, seeming to remember herself and Steve snapped back to attention just in time to intercept her before she disappeared again. He couldn't let her just leave. Now that he had her there, talking to him, standing right in front of him.
She had brought him pastries and sketchpads, and while the thought was so incredibly sweet, he had sat speaking to her for the majority of that time just thrilled that she was there. When she tried to leave again, he couldn't just let her go without asking her out. He couldn't leave that to chance again. However, it had been almost a century since he had last asked a woman on a date. He had never even been on a date without Bucky there to arrange it. Reading him like a book, she seemed to encourage him, giving him that last boost of confidence,
"Come on Blue Eyes, if you can fight off an alien invasion, you can ask an already willing girl out on a date"
He grinned, remembering her tempting smirk, bright green eyes teasing him. Her encouragement had made all the difference, giving him the confidence to steal a kiss before she left. She had been so responsive, so pliable in his arms; all soft flesh and curves. He couldn't help but pull her closer, feel that lush little body against his. It had been entirely out of character, but he had been wanting it since he caught her in the craft shop on Monday and she didn't seem to mind as he directed her to the elevator and watched the doors close.
Doubts needled him now though. Maybe she hadn't known how to respond, maybe he had been too forceful and hadn't given her a chance to say no. He had never stolen a kiss like that, and in his time, he could have easily been slapped for taking action like that with a woman he barely knew. His hands tightened on the arms of the chair. But she liked him, she had said yes to the date, and had been so responsive, so maybe the kiss had been fine.
He shook off those doubts before realizing slowly that she had in fact said yes to the date. The date that was supposed to happen tonight. That he needed to plan. Panic took over. He hadn't taken anyone on a date in 70 years. Fully panicking now, he scanned the room, wondering if there was anyone here who wouldn't ridicule him for asking for dating advice.
Clint lay on the couch, laptop resting on his stomach, huge black headphones covering his ears. Clint was out. The archer was a nice enough guy, but he had a penchant for teasing that was rivaled only by Tony. Natasha lay on the chair opposite him, legs flung over the side, and was flipping through a torn copy of Anna Karenina. Possibly. The woman had a level head and would be able to give him a female opinion, but Steve didn't know how comfortable he felt discussing manners of the heart with a woman on his team. Dr. Banner sat at the other end of the table, bent over a Stark laptop, a set of horn rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Maybe.
Before Steve could speak up, the elevator doors opened and in strode Tony Stark. Swearing internally, Steve bowed his head in hopes that Tony wouldn't notice him, but he had no such luck, as the billionaire made a beeline for him.
"Hey! Spangles! Who was your visitor last night?" Stark asked.
"None of you business, Stark" Steve replied, turning to face the window once more.
"Uh-uh. I gave her security clearance, I get to know her name," Stark replied, taking a seat next to him. Steve sighed heavily and turned toward him.
"Fine. Her name's Charlotte. She works in a craft shop on the lower east side and I happened to be in the store when she accidentally gave herself a concussion. She came over last night to say thank you, and that is all you need to know." Stark hurrumped loudly, drawing Bruce's attention. Natasha sat up in her chair, turning to face the table and setting her book down.
"She came to thank you, huh?" Stark wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "And just how did she thank you Cap? Full salute?" Stark smirked.
"No Tony, she brought me some baked goods and sketchpads, that's all." Steve responded through clenched teeth. Tony slapped the table resoundingly.
"Aha! That's what was in the box! I knew it! What were the baked goods? Apple pie? It smelled like apple pie." Tony accused knowingly.
"It wasn't apple pie," Steve answered. Tony deflated a bit.
"Then what was it Uncle Sam? She make enough to share?"
"It's none of your business Tony." Steve muttered, his patience wearing thin.
"Aw, didn't taste good? Is she a health nut? Gluten free paleo something or other?" Tony got up and began to pace, "Wouldn't peg her as a health nut. Not with those curves." he smirked knowingly and Steve felt his control snap. Before he punched Stark through his own plate glass window, Steve stood and marched out the door, punching the button to his elevator and disappearing back to his quarters.
"What? What'd I do?" Tony asked the room. Bruce sighed and shook his head, turning back to his work. Natasha shook her head and walked over to the table, gently placing her hand on Tony's arm.
"Tony, I'm sure you've been told this before, but you're an idiot." She grabbed the sketchpad Steve had left on table and started toward the elevator, leaving Tony in a momentary state of shock.
"Floor 29 please JARVIS. Let Steve know I'm on my way."
"Right away ma'am."
The doors swung open to Steve's apartment and Natasha saw the Captain standing at his window, back turned.
"I'm really not in the mood Stark. You better suit up before you step in here," he said, his eyes never leaving the window.
"Should I suit up Cap?" Natasha asked softly. Steve turned and sighed.
"No, Nat, that won't be necessary. I'm sorry about before. I just can't handle Tony when he gets like that," he admitted. Natasha made her way into the main room.
"Completely understandable. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Tony's an idiot. But, I thought you might want this back before he got his hands on it." She offered him the sketchpad. Steve winced and took it.
"I completely forgot about it. Thanks," he smiled at her gratefully.
"She's pretty. Really gorgeous," Natasha took a seat on the white couch, lounging, seemingly completely relaxed, though Steve knew that every muscle in the agents carefully honed body was constantly at the ready, no matter how languidly she seemed to move throughout the tower.
"Kind eyes," she continued, "and she seems very sweet. Though I got that from your picture of her so maybe you're a little biased," Natasha continued, smiling knowingly at the super soldier. Steve smiled and took a seat on the couch opposite her.
"Maybe, but she is really sweet, tough, but sweet. She actually brought me that sketchpad last night, along with apple tarts that she baked for me. She seemed to think that she was rude to me when we met."
"Rude? How so?" Natasha asked.
"She wasn't too excited to have me following her home after she got hurt. I couldn't just leave her there, she was so concussed she could barely walk straight. But she seemed determined to get home on her own. She should have gone to the hospital, but she wouldn't let me take her. She's tough is all. Independent," Steve smiled softly at the memory, looking up at Natasha, "She didn't know my name so she kept calling me 'blue eyes' and 'boy scout'. It was cute." Natasha smiled.
"I like her already."
"You would. She's little, but strong. You two would get along," Steve responded, his face falling slightly as his doubts began creeping back.
"What's wrong Steve?" Natasha asked.
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong," Steve responded too quickly. Natasha raised one eyebrow suspiciously, and Steve sighed, "I just-you have to promise not to laugh."
"Okay, I promise. What's going on?" Steve paused, choosing his words carefully.
"I asked her out on a date last night. We're supposed to go out tonight and I honestly have no idea what to do," he admitted quietly.
"Haven't you ever been on a date before?" Natasha asked gently.
"Never on my own," Steve responded quietly.
"Never?"
"No, not really. Whenever I went out before the serum, it was always with Bucky. And none of the girls wanted to spend time with me, they wanted a war hero, someone who could protect them, you know? Then after the serum, I was too busy fighting a war. After they took me out of the ice we had the New York invasion, and ever since I just haven't found anyone I was interested in," he explained, becoming more and more serious. Natasha smiled softly, placing a hand on his arm.
"That's perfectly understandable Cap. Nothing to be ashamed of." She sat up, mood changing to one of optimistic determination.
"So what do you need help with? Need help with finding a place to go, dating etiquette, what?" she replied, sounding cheerful and upbeat. Steve looked up to see the super spy smiling encouragingly at him. He smiled and sighed in relief.
"Honestly, I need help with everything Nat. I'm a little lost here." he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "Do I go and pick her up or does she come here? Do I pay for everything or do we split? Do women still like to have doors opened for them? Can I kiss her at the end of the night or will she expect something else? Where do you even go on a date in this town, there are so many options?" Steve rambled on until Natasha sat back, her hands raised to stop him.
"Whoa, whoa Cap, hold on. Most of this stuff is still just common sense. Talk to her, ask her if she wants to split things or where she wants to go. Most women nowadays appreciate doors being opened for them, little things that seem normal to you are pretty special now so you've got that as an advantage. Just be yourself." Natasha reassured him, "Take a breath and calm down. Now, tell me everything you know about her and we'll figure out the perfect date."
AN: Let me know what you think! :)