AN: It's finally here you guys! The date! This date chapter got MONSTER long and is probably going to be split in almost 3 huge chapters. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for Charlotte, who's pretty awesome.
"How the hell did people wear these every day?!" I exclaimed after tearing a hole in my second pair of thigh highs. It was nearly 7:00, and after struggling with my hair for a solid 30 minutes and trying two different makeup looks, I was running out of time. Knowing Steve, he would be early and as I pulled on my third pair of thigh highs as gingerly but as quickly as I could, I could feel the frantic panic begin to build up in my system. Finally managing to clip my thigh high into my garter I rose, emerging into my living room only to be faced with a complete mess. Magazines haphazardly laying all over the place, take out containers on the coffee table, clothes strewn all over the place, my apartment was in a state of chaos.
"Shit."
Frantically I raced around my apartment, shoving clothes back into my room, throwing trash into my already overfilled trash bag in the kitchen and attempting to make my magazines look like there was some sort of order to them. In the middle of shooing Penelope into the kitchen while simultaneously trying to pick up her cat hair from the couch with a makeshift lint roller made from a bunch of duct tape wrapped around my hand, the buzzer rang.
"Double shit!" I cursed under my breath and ran for the telecom, pressing the button hurriedly.
"Hello?" I asked, trying to keep the panic from my tone.
"Charlotte? It's me, Steve. Can I come up or should I wait down here?" I heard Steve's deep voice rumble nervously over the telecom and couldn't help but smile.
"Of course, come on up," I pressed the button to let him in quickly, not realizing that I did so with the hand still wrapped in duct tape. I released the com button, and desperately tried to detach myself from the wall, where the duct tape had fused to the buzzer.
"Motherfuck-oh!"I finally managed to get my hand off of the buzzer, only to tumble back and bump into the arm of the couch, stumbling back and falling onto the cushions.
"Well, at least it was a soft landing," I murmured to myself as a knock sounded on the door. Damn, Blue Eyes was fast. I stood, ripping the offending duct tape from my hand and tossing it in the now empty trash can. I straightened myself out, looking in the mirror quickly.
I had followed Steph's advice and curled my hair gently, leaving it down around my shoulders. The blue knee length dress fit well, a sweetheart neckline revealing just a bit of cleavage and cinching at my waist before flaring out softly. I had gone for an extra confidence boost, painting my lips a defiant and warm red. I took a deep breath and nodded at the mirror, steadying myself and opening the door.
"Hi Steve," I smiled, taking in the man towering above me. Steve looked just like he had the day before, button down shirt tucked into perfectly pressed khakis, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, well worn leather jacket slung over one arm. He smiled at me, a combination of soft lips quirking up over perfectly white teeth, clear blue eyes twinkling. The man was gorgeous and I couldn't help but feel heat pool low in my stomach at the sight of him.
"Hi Charlotte," he said. I had stepped forward a bit, unconsciously moving toward him before we both seemed to realize ourselves at the same time, Steve bringing a bouquet out from behind his back, and me stepping back and opening the door further. He cleared his throat nervously, "For you." he mumbled sheepishly, thrusting the flowers towards me. I accepted them gladly, stepping back more to let him in.
"Thank you Steve, they're beautiful. Come in, come in." I murmured, sticking my nose into the fragrant blooms. I motioned for him to come in, rushing around him to get into the kitchen. "I'll just put these in some water. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable," I motioned to the now cat hair free couch and scurried into the kitchen to grab a vase, arranging the mixed wildflower blooms, taking in the scent of the autumn colored bouquet. Yellow and orange tiger lilies, red carnations, and large happy sunflowers looked up at me optimistically. I bent my head once more, taking in the scent before returning to the living room, placing the vase on now clear coffee table.
"They're gorgeous Steve," I sighed, setting them down. Steve blushed and smiled.
"I wasn't sure what kind of flower you liked, so I just got what looked like you," he admitted. I looked at him quizzically. A look of panic crossed his features and he stood abruptly, hands nervously fidgeting with his jacket.
"Well, not looked like you, I mean you don't look like a flower. Well, you do, I mean you're beautiful like a flower, but you don't have a green stem or anything, or petals. You kind of smell like a flower, in a good way of course-" I stepped toward him, placing a hand on his arm to stop his rambling.
"Blue eyes, take a breath. I get what you meant." I giggled softly, smiling up at him. He focused on me, taking that breath and smiling.
"I meant that they looked like you. Warm and sweet and happy. That's why I got them," he responded, brushing my hair back behind my ear, his long fingers lingering on my cheek, leaving the skin tingling slightly. I smiled at the compliment, stepping closer still and bringing his head down to mine, our lips touching for what I had meant to be a brief kiss, but as his warm lips touched mine, I could feel myself melting into him. He was so sweet, so kind, and felt so good against me. Finally recovering myself I broke the kiss, my hands still framing his face. I smiled breathlessly.
"Sunflowers."
"Huh?" he looked at me quizzically, eyes still dreamy from our kiss.
"Sunflowers. My favorite flowers are sunflowers. So you got lucky on that hunch." I chuckled and backed away, grabbing my sweater from the couch.
"So where are we off to tonight?" I asked a still dazed Steve. I smirked internally, filled with the knowledge that I had momentarily stunned him. He seemed to recover himself with a slight shake of his head.
"Uh, uptown. I know its a bit chilly now, but Central Park is still nice at this time of year," Steve walked toward the door, opening it and motioning me through. "I thought maybe we'd walk around a bit and then head to this little diner I've been visiting at least once a week for the past few months. They've got the best hamburgers this side of the island. If that sounds alright with you?" he paused on the stairs, looking back up at me to check for approval. I smiled, placing my hand on his shoulder.
"That sounds fantastic Steve." He grinned and continued down the steps, shrugging on his leather jacket. We exited the building and he lead me over to a huge motorcycle, swinging one leg over to straddle it. I stopped in my tracks.
"Um, is that yours?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yeah, I thought it'd be easier than taking the Subway to Central Park. Don't worry, I've got an extra helmet for you," he paused, taking in my hesitancy. "Have you ever been on a motorcycle?"
"No, not really. It's not very high on my bucket list either." I murmured, glued to my spot on the sidewalk. Steve dismounted from the bike, walking over to take my hands in his.
"Charlotte, we don't have to take the bike if you don't want to. I'm an excellent driver though. I promise that you'd be safe," he told me with a combination of fierceness and gentle reassurance I didn't think any other man would ever be able to pull off. My fears gnawed at me, digging a pit deep in my stomach.
"I just-I fell off of a bike when I was a kid. It's kind of ruined me for bikes or motorcycles. It's a stupid irrational fear though. Really dumb." I admitted quietly, so quietly I wondered if he had heard me. A long finger lifted my chin gently.
"Charlotte, it's perfectly understandable. We can grab a cab or the subway if you want." he said reassuringly. My mind fought against my fears, part of me wanting to give in and just grab a cab, the other, more adult part of me screaming at me to man up and hop on the bike with Steve. Time to put on your big girl underwear, my rational mind told me and I nodded my head softly, walking past him and picking up the helmet on the bike.
"No, Steve. Its no problem." I said, placing the helmet on my head, "You're going to have to wear a helmet too though. Brain damage is no laughing matter." I said in faux seriousness, managing a smile. Steve grinned and walked over, giving me a quick squeeze. His arms felt warm and safe around me and some of my fears melted.
"Deal," he said confidently, reaching behind me and placing a helmet on his head, once again straddling the bike. I climbed on behind him, tucking my dress around my legs and snuggling myself against his warm, strong back. Maybe this wouldn't be all that bad, I thought to myself.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready," I responded, clinging just a bit tighter. Steve kicked the bike into motion, the engine roaring to life underneath us and merging onto the street, picking up speed slowly. At first it was terrifying, and on our first turn I may have squashed some of Steve's internal organs, though he never complained. But after a bit, the brisk breeze blowing by me, the feeling of independence and freedom washing through me and the solid wall of Steve's back giving me an anchor, it wasn't so terrifying. It was freeing. We were at Central Park before I knew it. Steve hopped off the back of the bike, helping me climb off and taking my helmet.
"How was it?" he asked hesitantly, searching my face for clues.
"It was fantastic!" I said, perhaps a bit loudly now that the engine was off. I giggled, the adrenaline of the ride still washing through me. "It was so much better than I thought." I finished, my voice now at a normal level. Steve grinned, placing the helmets in their compartments.
"Good, I'm glad to hear that. This bike has become one of my favorite things in this century." he offered his arm to me and I took it gladly, smiling up at him.
"Really? Did you used to have a bike? Before?" I asked.
"During the war yeah. Just to get from here to there every once and a while. Before the serum I couldn't really get the bikes we had back then started. I was kind of too little for it," he responded quietly. I tried to imagine Steve smaller, not the large man who towered over me now and I had a hard time picturing it. Steve exuded strength, safety, security. Though seeing him smaller would have been an adjustment, I had a feeling that Steve had still felt the same before the serum. His innate sense of self seemed too strong to be tied just to his physical form. His face fell with his last word, his brows knit together and sadness echoed in those blue eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up. It's probably a sensitive subject," I apologized.
"No, don't worry about it. It makes me a little sad to think about my life before the serum, but if it hadn't been for the way I grew up, Erskine would never have picked me. I'd never have had the chance to be like this."
"I have a feeling you'd be less like you than you think." I said. He looked at me quizzically.
"If you hadn't grown up the way you did, you wouldn't be you. Yes, maybe you would never have been chosen for the serum, but other than that, you wouldn't be you. You wouldn't be as compassionate or thoughtful as you are. As loyal or kind. Everything we experience shapes us in more ways than we'll ever realize." I finished, staring out at the dimming sunlight in Central Park, the last rays of the sun clinging to the last leaves on the trees, bathing them in golden light. I felt Steve shift beside me and looked up, afraid that I had somehow offended him. But when I saw his face, looking out at the same view I was, he had a soft smile on his lips. He looked down at me and the smile grew.
"How old are you again?" he asked. I blinked in surprise.
"27, why?" He chuckled.
"Are all people this insightful at your age in the 21st century?" I scoffed.
"I don't know about insightful. Every once in a while I manage to pull something remotely intelligent sounding out of my ass, but those times are few and far in between," I muttered.
"You don't give yourself enough credit," Steve returned, shaking his head softly. I was about to retort skeptically when a teenage girl rushed up to us, her young face open, eyes huge.
"Are you Captain America?" she asked excitedly, and just loud enough to raise the attention of a few of the people milling about in the same area. Steve cringed and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Can I get your autograph?" she continued, thrusting a small piece of paper and pen in his direction. A small crowd began forming around us, more and more people in the area realizing what was going on.
"Uh, sure," Steve murmured, signing quickly, but not quickly enough. More people came forward, shoving pieces of paper in his direction. Steve looked around, panic tightening his eyes and thinning his lips as he tried to sign everything thrust at him. However, the flash of the first camera seemed to jolt him into action. He returned the slip of paper and pen to its owner and began moving forwards through the crowd, pulling me behind him. I rushed to stay close to him, but the crowds of people who had gathered were beginning to push in, leaving me to cling helplessly before his hand was ripped from mine. Now I usually didn't mind crowds, I mean I had been in my fair share of mosh pits, but this was ridiculous. Men, women and children alike wanted a piece of Steve Rogers and I was in the way. Shoved this way and that, I called out to him and then after a particularly large 18 year old girl elbowed me in the ribs, I was just about done.
"Fuck this," I muttered. Worming my way out of the horde, I ran around it, trying to get in front of Steve, who was right in the middle of the crowd, a look of panic and desperation on his face.
"Steve!" I called out, but the crowd was too loud. Fighting to get in his line of vision I jumped up and down.
"Blue Eyes!" I shouted and Steve's head whipped around, his eyes finding mine. A look of relief passed over his features and he marched his way through, finally breaking out and grabbing my hand, pulling me towards the bike. Unfortunately, the crowd continued to follow, and we made a mad dash to the motorcycle. Steve tossed a helmet at me and I strapped it in quickly as we pulled away from the curb just in time to avoid the people spilling out from the park onto the street.
AN: Sorry to end abruptly, but I'll be putting up the next piece of the chapter sooner than usual, probably tomorrow night. Let me know what you thought!