La Petite Fleur

Guérison 2

During the next five weeks, he made his visits to Antoinette with complete uncertainty about how he would find her. Would she still be stiff? Or bitter about her withdrawal from the performance? Or distant from him considering how they'd last parted?

When he reached the theater, he was surprised to be greeted by a beaming smile. Antoinette was dressed, not in the attire she would normally have been in if she'd been performing or helping backstage, but in a simple blue dress that brushed the tops of her knees and a cream white cardigan pushed up to her elbows. She'd left her long, blonde hair down and Steve couldn't help thinking that she looked so much more relaxed than she'd ever been before.

He found his seat and she sank gracefully into the plush black cushion beside him. "Must be different watching instead of performing," he said.

She nodded. "Oui, c'est ça. It is but I 'ave always wanted to see what it looks like from the audience. Though I would much rather be on the stage."

He inhaled to reply when the lights dimmed and the show began.

Nice, July-

Each week came and went much the same as the last until July Fourth, the American Independence Day. Steve woke up with a feeling of confusion clouding his mind until he realized that today was also his ninety-first birthday. He sighed and rubbed his face before sitting up and preparing to head to the ground.

He had no time to meet Antoinette before the performance, but she met him afterwards and he congratulated her on her flawless solo. With the time she'd had off, she had perfected the intricate moves and twists until he almost believed the wings allowed partially sustained flight.

She was so overjoyed that she greeted him with a massive hug, standing on full-pointe and flinging her arms around his neck. "Je ne le peux pas croire! Elle a effectivement travaillé! Et le solo et l'ovation à la fin et juste oh, Steve, j'suis tellement heureuse! Je ne peux même pas rester encore!" She spoke so fast he couldn't even distinguish one word from its neighbors until she rushed out, "And I cannot believe you didn't tell me it was your birthday!"

He chuckled before replying, "I haven't had a chance yet. Wait, how did you know?"

"A little birdie might 'ave let it slip," she said, grin receding to an energized and secret-hiding smirk.

"Does this little birdie have a name?" he asked.

She laughed and shook her head a little. " 'e is just an old friend from my time as an agent. I 'ad 'im look it up for me."

Whenever she got excited or began speaking quickly- both of which were at work here- her accent thickened and the regular English words became pleasantly tainted with the French pronunciations.

"Oh really?" he answered, trying to sound casual. Inside, he was freaking out about how much this friend told her. Had he mentioned anything about Steve's past or the fact that he was an Avenger? If so, the whole mission was blown. "And what else did this friend tell you?"

"Zat you can draw tres bien."

Steve's mind translated this to 'very well' and he nodded. "Yeah, actually. I wouldn't say 'very' but I'm alright; I was going to college for comic illustration. Anything else?"

"Non, 'e said you were boring other zan zat," she replied.

He choked back a short guffaw of ironic laughter; how quite the opposite his life was from boring. "And how about you? Anything interesting you've never told me?"

She glanced up at him in a playfully suspicious way before saying, "Define interesting."

He thought for a moment before answering, "Anything unusual, out of the ordinary, something you don't tell many people."