La Petite Fleur

Guérison 3

The next few weeks, Steve felt like he was walking on air. He ran into scheduling issues at Toulouse and Bordeaux and wasn't able to take a long walk with Antoinette afterward but when they arrived in Poitier, he made sure to have the day free for an afternoon together.

Poitier, last week of July-

He met her after the performance after being locked out for arriving late. She was surrounded by a mob of her fellow dancers but caught his eye over the heads of the others and mouthed 'wait'. He nodded and leaned against a wall, smiling.

When she returned, she was dressed for the humid day in a lacy white skirt and floaty pale blue blouse. When she spotted him again, she said goodbye to a friend who winked in response and left them alone together.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded, beaming. "I can't wait! I've heard there's a battle sight from the Frankish war against the Moors. Do you think we can see it while we're here?"

"Of course," he said. "Lead the way."

She hooked her arm through his and started down the street with a skip in her step humming the Yellow Brick Road song.

Le Havre, last week of August-

"Steve!" He spun around to the sound of Antoinette's voice calling to him across the bustling crowd of people. She was still in her silky blue dress and stage makeup with her hair pulled into its usual bun. She held a bundle of white roses in the crook of one arm and flung the other arm around his neck.

After her solo, the crowd had applauded and cheered for an encore until the show had to keep moving. During the final bows, the applause had been deafening and the dancers were obliged to return twice. Even from his seat towards the back of the auditorium, he could see her smiling ear to ear.

He hugged her in return, lifting her an inch or two off the ground. She giggled when he set her down and bounced lightly on her toes. Rambling in French, she stopped her bouncing and began gesturing wildly, expounding upon whatever she was saying.

After a while he held up a hand to stop her, smiling and laughing. "Go change and I'll surprise you when you come back," he told her.

"Oui," she agreed, disappearing into the crowd and returning when the theater had cleared out some. The scent of roses hung around her and reminded him of Pvt. Lorraine's heavy perfume. He wouldn't let the unpleasant memory dampen his spirits though and held the door for her as they left.

She was still overflowing with exuberant energy as they started down the street. She was so distracted, she almost walked out into traffic as cars zipped carelessly by. He caught her elbow and pulled her back in time, laughing a little at the oblivious state she was in.

"So you said you had a surprise for me?" she prompted when they had reached a path that stretched along the shore by the English Channel.

He smiled and nodded. "Fury says that he's been asked if it's safe for the ballet to travel to America to perform."

Her eyes widened and all her energy was focused on the idea of being able to tour the States. "And?" she encouraged, almost breathless.

"It's safe. He's given his permission and the ballet will be touring in America starting in February."

She gasped and released a little squeel of joy accompanied by a bout of giggles. "I'm going to America!" she exclaimed, face lit with spirited excitement. "I'm going- to- the ballet is- I can't believe-" Her outburst ended with another wordless vocalization of emotion.

"Ya know," he teased. "I wasn't sure if you would like that or not but I took a chance and-" He was cut off when she hugged him so tightly he had trouble breathing. While he hugged her in return, her arms squeezed around his waist tighter and tighter until he was forced to pry her off. He chuckled and walked beside her as she skipped lightly down the street, hardly the public deportment for a well-known performing artist.

When they had drained every second they were allowed together, he walked her to the hotel where the dancers were staying and told her goodnight. She smiled in return and replied, "Goodnight, Steve. And thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

She stepped up toe to toe with him and tilted her head back to meet his eyes. "I'm not sure. Everything...I guess."

"Then you're welcome...I guess," he said, teasing her again.

She smiled before stepping away. As she twisted the door handle, he remembered what Fury had told him and called out, "Antoinette, wait."

She turned around with a questioning expression and he hesitated. "Nevermind," he told her. "I'll ask you next time I see you."

"Is it-"

"It's nothing to worry about," he interrupted. "I promise."

There were those words again. I promise. It seemed that more and more often every promise he made was impossible to keep. He couldn't stand lying to her like this but he had no choice. SHIELD had backed him into a dangerous corner that would fall out from under him at any second. It tore him apart inside to know that he was keeping so many secrets from her but there was no other option.

"Alright," she said. "If you are sure."

"I am. Goodnight," he answered.

"Goodnight," she said softly, turning to go.

This time he let her, stuffing his hands in his pockets and kicking a pebble as he walked. She didn't trust him. It had been written all over her face when she turned away. She didn't trust him. After all they'd done together and every situation they'd been thrown into, she didn't trust him. He wished there was some way to know for sure what would be the right thing to do. Being as unpredictable as she always was, Steve didn't know if it would help to tell her the truth. And if she didn't trust him, it would all blow up in his face sooner than later. There was no way out.

When he'd returned to the Helicarrier, he came across Agent Romanoff. They exchanged friendly nods but passed each other before he had a thought. "Natasha?" he said, spinning around to face her. "Can I ask you something?"

"Just did, so I'd say you can," she replied smoothly.

"Um, I kind of need help with something," he began awkwardly.

"The girl?" she asked, smirking a little. "I thought you were just getting information out of her?"

"Well, that's the problem. I'm supposed to be asking her all these questions and wringing answers out of her," he explained. "But every time I see her, I can't bring myself to do it," he finished.

"Because you got attached," she answered simply. "Just do it the next time you see her. Set up the conversation so there's an opening or just be honest with her."

The words 'honest with her' reverberated through his head and made him feel guilty. As if there were little comic strip people all pointing fingers at him and pushing his lies back in his face. "But-" He couldn't finish his sentence because he didn't know what he was trying to say. He wasn't sure how to put it into words. If it could be put into words at all.

"But you're afraid to push her away," she summed up.

He nodded, staring at the floor. When he looked up again, Agent Romanoff was smiling sympathetically but with a hint of amusement.

"Before you say it, she's unpredictable," he explained. "I never know what she's going to do next and the smallest things set her off some days. I don't know what's wrong and she won't ever tell me either. She's stubborn as a brick wall and knows how to weasel out of any situation."

Natasha raised an eyebrow and said, "She's a girl. All girls are like that at times. And she's probably confused."

"Confused? About what?" he asked. "What could there be to be confused about?"

She laughed lightly before answering, "Just think about it."

"But what if-"

"Steve," she stopped him. "I have to report to Fury but if you have more questions, find me later alright?"

He nodded and let her go.