La Petite Fleur

Fin

After a week at Avengers tower, Antoinette and Natasha became good friends. It seemed that any time Clint or Steve walked into the kitchen when both girls were present, they were caught in laughter or deep conversation, often with one or the other stretching with one foot propped on the countertop. And when they wanted to talk when Steve was in the room, Natasha and Antoinette would slip in and out of French. Clint had tried speaking French with her, but her ruthless teasing of his Canadian accent dissuaded him.

Eventually, Antoinette had to leave as the ballet traveled the States. Steve helped her carry her luggage to the door of the Tower. "You will keep in touch, oui?" she asked, turning to face him. Already, she was standing en demipointe, a sign of her eagerness to leave and begin dancing again.

"As much as I can," he promised.

She hesitated before replying, "Bon," the word clipped by her tongue. Before Steve could say anything, she rose en pointe and kissed his cheek. "Do not pine too much. I will be back before you know it." She winked, then grasped the handle of her luggage and left. Steve waved as she walked away, a little schoolboy smile starting to curl his lips.

Steve endured a two-hour lesson on how to operate an email account just to keep in touch with Antoinette while she was away. After three months of regular conversation, he received a hastily typed message.

Bonjour Steve,
The ballet and troupe are returnin to Nouveau York in two weeks. We have seen successes at many shows and invitation to travel again next year was extended! Our final performance will show in New York and the troupe will leave for Paris the next morning. Would M. Stark allow me stay at the Tower? After the recent events in France, it would be unwise and unsafe for me to leave with them. I would like very much to stay in this city and audition for a dance company here. If thi s a possibility, please let me know at the soonest opportunity.
Yours always,
Antoinette

Unable to keep a smile off his face, Steve typed his reply.

Bonjour Antoinette,
I am glad to hear of the ballet's success these past months! Tony has been away and I don't know when he'll return, but I'm sure he wouldn't have any objections if you stayed with us. The room you were staying in before has been left empty in case you'd like to stay there. I look forward to seeing you again.
Steve

Two weeks seemed to drag into eternity. The Thursday before Antoinette was to return to New York, Steve was approached by Fury and assigned a mission. "How long will I be away?" he asked.

Regarding him with one eye, Fury snorted a laugh. "As long as it takes for you to finish. If it takes a day, then a day. If it takes a week, it takes a week. Get it done."

"Yes, sir." Steve shook his head, but accepted the file. He just had to focus and finish. Focusing was much easier than it sounded. He had no struggles with carrying out the orders given to him, but finding the various locations he needed to be at manifested itself in shouting at the GPS and missing every other left turn. The more directions he confuddled, the more frustrated he became at himself, the more distracted he felt, the more he missed the turn he should have taken.

The day Antoinette was meant to return passed, and Steve found himself in Texas, watching as a herd of brown cows crossed the road. Dust stirred by thousands of hooves filled the air like lazy clouds that had drifted too close to earth. Impatiently, Steve tapped his fingers against the handles of his motorcycle. Two more targets and he could return to New York. Just two. But only if these cows got across the road before Christmas!

Hot May sun seared the back of his neck and caused sweat to soak his hair until his helmet felt sticky and uncomfortable. Dang cows. Finally, a rider on a horse brought up the rear of the herd and waved for Steve to continue.