Burn and America (Avengers/Captain America Fan Fic)

Chapter 4

Freya Taschereau - Burn

Punch.

Spin.

Roundhouse kick, swift uppercut. 

Repeat.

Punch.

Spin.

Roundhouse kick-

"What did the training dummy ever do to you?" I grin, recognizing the voice immediately. 

"It just keeps coming back." I say, wiping my forehead with a small towel beside me. I sit down, and look over to where Steve is standing. I gesture for him to sit down.

I chug the bottle of water he hands me thirstily. "Thanks." I breath after I crush the empty bottle. 

"You know, you don't have to train so hard." He says, glancing over at me.

I meet his gaze, taking in his warm blue eyes and traditionally cut blond hair. It was hard not to notice his muscles when he was wearing such a tight shirt.

I looked him in the eye again. "Of course I do. When a real mission starts, I'll have to be able to keep up with you guys. I may not be at the head, but the least I can do is not hold you back."

Steve put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I'm sure you'll do a great job out there when a mission comes." I shrug. "That's all I can hope for."

I got up. "I'm going to take a shower. I must smell really bad." Steve laughed. "I didn't even notice."

I grin. "You're to nice to say anything even if you did." 

He laughs again as I walk out of the training room.

Its been a week since I first joined the Avengers, and getting around the flying ship has gotten easier.

Once I got inside my room, I lock the door and undressed quickly, stepping into the hot shower. 

I picked up a random bottle on my right and started shampooing my hair. Hopefully, it was shampoo.

I sang in the shower while I conditioned my hair and grabbed a random bottle of body wash.

I started thinking about Steve again. He was really nice, a really nice friend. Someone who could actually understand me. It probably helped that we were both trapped in ice for 70+ years....

I stepped out of the shower and towel dried my hair, still singing and thinking.

My thoughts had shifted to when Shield finally broke through the intense brainwashing Red Room had put me through.

I was miserable and depressed, the thought of all those (mostly) innocent people that Red Room made me kill....  

I dressed in black jeans and a blue v-neck, leaving my damp hair like it was.

I was bored, wasn't really sure what to do. I didn't want to go train anymore, I'd get all sweaty again right after I've just showered. There really wasn't much to do on this ship.

I put on my belt with the holsters, and shoved my two black handguns in the holsters. I headed for the target practice room. I wasn't going to get sweaty from training by shooting bullets, right?

I put on the cheap plastic glasses and earplugs they make you wear when shooting at the targets. I load my gun and shoot pretty straight.

Once satisfied with that, I move on to throwing knives.