By the end of Wednesday, I was a shell. I hadn't slept well since the weekend. I had nightmares about the astral projections to the point that I would wake up in the middle of the night thinking I was holding the scepter. I was in so much mental pain that I had completely given up on making myself stick to Natasha's nutrition plan. Eating healthy things on a strict schedule was too much to handle, so I resorted to caffeine and sugar highs, to get me through.
The only thing keeping me holding on, keeping me coming back, was the promise of Steve returning Wednesday night. Our date was a happy thought I clung to desperately. I was going dancing.
I boarded the elevator in silence with Tony Stark. My whole body was trembling from working with the scepter for the third day in a row. I was beat, but determined to have a fun night, anyway. I asked Tony if I could use his place to get ready, so I didn't have to go all the way home. Steve was supposed to debrief at Stark Tower anyway, so it would save him a trip to my apartment, too.
"Swing dancing, huh?" Tony said, about halfway up to his penthouse, as if he'd been thinking about it for a while. "Pepper wouldn't go for it. She hates that kind of stuff."
"You would?" I asked suspiciously.
He shrugged. "Not even a little bit. I'm more of a pizza and a concert guy."
"What does Pepper like?"
"She'd prefer we go to some black-tie five-star restaurant and eat a fifteen tiny courses that don't even resemble food and talk shop about Stark Industries."
I cracked a smile despite my headache.
"Steve," he said, shaking his head. "What do you see in the guy? He's like a robot programmed to act like he's got a stick up his butt."
I snorted. "That's hardly fair."
"You know, I think you're blinded by the blue eyes and the six-pack." He said. "And the whole age thing." He shivered dramatically. "What are you, 18?"
"22," I said blushing furiously. I was saved from further humiliation by the elevator doors opening.
"Down the hall to the left. See ya, kid," Tony said. "Good work today."
Tony's guest room was beyond luxurious; the shower had three heads and there were tiles inlaid with what looked like real gold. I started to relax as the water did its best to wash away the mentally and emotionally draining day.
I unpacked my dress, shoes, a hairdryer, curler, and makeup bag and did my best to look the part of someone Steve might take out on a date in the '40s. While I was curling my hair, though, I started to worry I was trying too hard. By the time I was doing my best to wing my eyeliner I was convinced I looked like a complete idiot in my costume. Too late to back out now. I had nothing else to wear besides my oversized t-shirt and leggings.
I began to feel nervous about the whole thing. What if it was awkward instead of fun, to see Steve again, to dance with him. And there was that whole thing about talking about his intentions. Were we going to talk about intentions? What were my intentions?
We agreed to meet between six and seven, depending on how long training and debriefing, respectively, would take. It was close to seven when I forced myself to leave the guest room in this ridiculous outfit. I had an angry swarm of moths in my stomach.
Steve, Natasha, and, to my surprise, a nervous-looking Bruce, were already sitting on Tony's couch, drinks in hand as if they had been waiting for a while. Steve stood when he saw me.
"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to make you wait."
"We haven't been here long," Steve said with a genuine smile. "Besides Banner was just catching us up on what you guys have been up to."
I felt my own smile falter. I wanted nothing more than to forget the past few days. Bruce looked at me with an apologetic smile. What had he told them?
"I heard you beat up a few security guards," Natasha set her drink down and gathered a purse. "Not bad for your first test."
My smile dropped completely. "Was that your idea?" I asked her.
"Fury wanted to see how far you've come. I watched the footage. You did me proud," she smiled slyly.
"Alright, alright, enough talk," Steve said, holding an arm out for me to take. "Let's go."
We piled into a car; I sat in the middle of the backseat, rubbing shoulders with superheroes.
"I didn't know you danced," I said to Banner.
His lips and hands were pressed tightly together. "I don't," he confessed. "I got roped into this thing by mistake."
"There are no mistakes," Natasha said from the front seat as she applied lipstick. "Only happy accidents." She looked like she could fit right in at a Hollywood party. I was a string bean dressed up in a cheap costume compared to her.
"You feeling ok?" Steve said in my ear.
I shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"You look a little worn out."
"You don't look too bad yourself," I joked defensively.
"What happened?"
I blew out a long sigh and looked out the windshield. "I thought Bruce told you everything."
"Not everything. Just that you've been working to figure out the scepter."
I mean, he wasn't wrong.
"I'm fine," I said. "Let's not talk about it now." He slid his hand into mine and gave it a squeeze that made my heart jump.
The car stopped in front of an unassuming-looking maroon awning that read Swing 46. We got a table near the dance floor and set our stuff down just as an instructor called for attention. She was a cute brunette with freckles and bright red lipstick. About seven other couples of all different ages were gathered on the floor for the nightly lesson. Bruce had a pained look on his face as he lined up with Natasha. I grinned at Steve, who looked just as happy as I did.
The lesson was very basic, and I was able to pick the steps easily. Bruce had two left feet, and it was only because Natasha was so quick she didn't get stepped on or kicked by accident. The instructor hit on Steve more than once, complimenting him profusely and using him for demonstrations. He seemed not to notice though and winked at me as he spun her around.
After the hour-long lesson, we sat down at our table, just feet away from the dance floor. The live band was just starting to set up as we ordered drinks and dinner. The lighting dimmed, and deep red stage lights flooded the stage, illuminating the musicians and the dance floor in a sultry glow.
I'd never seen Steve so relaxed. He was completely in his element, and his mood was contagious. I felt the tension leak out of my body. Even Bruce started to relax and laughed when Natasha was telling a story about Clint pranking Coulson the day after Thor had made his first appearance in Nevada. I hadn't even known that Thor had been to earth before. I wanted to ask them more about my brother but stopped myself. Tonight wasn't about all that, Tonight was about dancing.
The band stuck their first cord just as we were finishing dinner. The floor flooded at once with couples at all different levels. There were beginners from our lesson doing their best to stay on rhythm, remember the steps, and not tread on each other's feet. And there were some real dancers who were flipping their partners around the floor like it was a competition.
The vibe was pure fun and joy. Lindy Hop was playful, even goofy. The wilder, more cartoonish the partners danced, the more applause they garnered from onlookers. From the tables, the spectators hollered and cheered when someone threw an aerial trick. There was a freedom I hadn't seen with any other sort of dance. Just fling yourself out there, stay on rhythm and read your partner. No formality, no rules about how it was supposed to look, no self-important technique sticklers. Just wild abandon and joy.
"Care to dance?" Steve asked me as soon as my plate was cleared. I grinned and grabbed his hand.
He tugged me into the chaos of the crowd and pulled me close as horns trumpeted the beginning of a new song. He had obviously held back during the lesson, and led me like an expert, throwing me cues I could easily read, pulling me to one side, spinning me in and out, almost faster than I could keep up with. It was like flying, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face.
The instructor found us at the beginning of the second song. "Can I cut in?" She asked.
Steve looked at me. I let go of his hand and stepped back. While I was a little sad to sit this one out, I was actually eager to see two experts dance together. I backed up, and a lot of the crowd followed suit, giving them extra room, sensing that they were about to give us a show. Right away they were so in sync that it looked choreographed like they'd practiced for hours together. Steve flung her around recklessly, smoothly catching her at the last moment, and reeling her back in. He flipped her over his arm backward, and the crowd roared when she slid across the floor between his legs. He caught her and yanked her up so that she bounced off his leg with her knees. It was next-level dancing, and I was caught up in the performance as much as anyone else.
It was a whole different side of Steve I'd never seen: laid back and happy. If it were possible, he was even more attractive than when he was in soldier mode, all brooding and serious. I watched him toss the cute instructor up in the air and catch her again, and my heart flew as if I were the one falling into his arms. The last chord of the song hit like an exclamation point and they struck their last pose. We all clapped and cheered at the top of our lungs.
And right then I knew: I was in love.
I watched with intense pride as Steve shook her hand and pushed through the crowd back towards me, grinning widely. Without a word, he swept me up into the next song, and I thought my heart would burst.
We had danced to two more songs when a woman, who had to be at least 80, tapped my arm. She had on a black sequin shirt and a matching hat with a big flower on the side.
"Honey," she said, dark brown eyes twinkling. "Give an old bird a turn."
I gestured to Steve that I was going to get a drink as the new song started, and turned to find Natasha and Banner still sitting at the table. I almost made it when a shorter man with a fedora slid right into my arms as if I had been waiting for him and pulled me out onto the floor again. A new song began with a fast-paced drum solo. It was one of those songs that when you hear it, you can't help but get up and dance, or at least tap your foot, so I decided to stay for a dance.
He was a good, though not as good as Steve, and he swung me around deftly. But he kept pulling me a little too close, and his hand strayed a little too low, so when the song ended I smiled and said thanks and turned to escape. I really was thirsty now, and I wanted to see if I could persuade Natasha and Banner to dance.
The guy scooped an arm around my middle and caught my hand again. Granted, it was playful, but it was a little disconcerting to be grabbed like that. I yanked my fingers out of his hand and spun away from his grip. He semi-jokingly pouted and managed to pinch the waist of my dress again, before I could take another step.
The guy frowned when a hand gripped his shoulder from behind. He looked up to see Steve towering. He seemed to weigh his options for a moment. Then he glared at me and held up his hands as if in mock surrender, shrugging it all off. As I turned, I felt a sharp humiliating sting as he slapped my butt. I turned, mortified, and found him grinning like it was some hilarious joke.
Steve grabbed him by the back of the neck, bent him forward so that his hat fell off: The crowd parted, watching with interest, but the band kept playing raucous. Steve steered him to a bouncer posted at the front door; the guy stumbled along and protested, face towards the ground.
My face burned with embarrassment as I slid into my seat and gulped the rest of my watery coke. Natasha handed her cocktail across the table. I looked at her gratefully and took a big gulp. My eyes watered at the bitter and fiery alcohol just barely tempered with whatever sugary drink it was mixed with.
"You can't hesitate like that," Natasha said, stacking her elbows on the table. "As soon as they get grabby, you gotta throw an elbow to show them you're not an easy target."
"Piece of dirt," Steve said, pulling out his chair, and plopping down. "You ok?"
I nodded and took another sip of Natasha's cocktail before sliding it across the table.
"Keep it," she said. "I have an early morning tomorrow."
"You're leaving?" I said. "Already?"
"You two enjoy the rest of your night," Natasha winked at me as she stood and slipped on her jacket.
Bruce looked relieved as he handed a purse to Natasha. "See you tomorrow," he said with a half-smile. My mood dipped a bit at the thought of enduring another day of experimenting with the scepter.
We waved them off and jumped back out onto the dance floor for a few more songs until a slower set started up. We opted to sit and order another round of drinks. I fanned my face with my napkin.
Most of the dancers took a break, but a few couples stayed and switched styles to blues-dancing, a sultry intimate mix between a tango and West Coast swing. The more experienced couples made it look sexy. The less-experienced made it look sloppy and inappropriate. A few people at nearby tables whooped their appreciation as one couple went into a grind, then a complicated turn that ended with a low dip where the guy actually nuzzled her plunging neckline.
"That's...different," Steve said, eyebrows raised as the lady rubbed her body down her partner like a cat in heat.
I laughed. "Didn't dance like that back in the day?"
"Not in public."
I suppressed a smile at his discomfort, imagining what he'd do if he walked into a modern club where it was basically just a bunch of people having sex on each other with their clothes on to hip hop.
"Want to take a walk?" I asked. "I could use the fresh air."
He went to pay the bill and found that Natasha and Bruce had already paid for our dinner.
"Golly, that was nice of them," Steve said, as he held the door for me. A burst of cool air hit my sweaty face and I sighed happily.
We walked arm in arm up the street in the direction of Central Park, without any aim of actually getting anywhere. It was a nice late-fall night if a little chilly. The adrenaline from all the fun and dancing wore off. Soon the quiet allowed my brain to kick back into gear. I began to feel a little nervous. Where did we go from here? I waited for him to say something, wondering if he was waiting for the same thing.
He turned suddenly to sit on a bench. He patted the seat next to me. I thought about watching him dance with the swing instructor, how my heart exploded and melted at the same time. I had made a promise to myself that I would do my best to be open, to communicate. I didn't want misunderstandings to be the death of this. He deserved to know. I opened my mouth to come clean, to admit that I had fallen in love.
"I really like you, Siri," Steve said before I could get the words out. "But I want to be completely honest with you, even if it costs me."
"Okay," I said, trying to hold myself back from getting whiplash from a rollercoaster of emotion.
"Before I went into the ice, there was a woman. Peggy."
I couldn't speak.
"She got married and had kids when I was in the ice. She's in a nursing home now and doesn't always remember who I am. It's been 70 years for her, but to me, it feels like just a few months ago."
I felt my body go rigid. Steve looked me straight in the eye.
"I still love her, Siri. I think I always might."
My chest imploded.
"But when I'm with you I forget everything I lost. I feel good. Happy for the first time since... I feel like I can belong here in this world again."
"What are you saying?" I tried to cover up my breaking heart by looking away.
"I'm saying," he turned his body to face me and took my hand. "I'm saying I want to be with you, but that there are things I'm trying to work through. I'm saying you should know that I'm not...whole. Not a whole man. Not yet."
"You can't give me all of you," I said, echoing what he was trying to tell me.
"But I want to," he sighed in frustration.
"Okay," I said, trying to process.
"There's just so much happening. Everything is so fast-paced now. Waking up, and having to adjust, and the battle for New York. Aliens. You and S.H.I.E.L.D. and Peggy. I'm still staying to get over losing Bucky. It's like the world is spinning faster and faster and I no matter how hard I run, I can barely keep up. I just want it to all slow down again."
My heart broke again. I pulled him into a hug, and his arms wrapped firmly around me, his forehead resting on my shoulder. I felt like, for the first time, an anchor for him, instead of the other way around.
"I'm so sorry Steve."
We lingered in each other's body heat for a long moment. He pulled back slightly to look at me.
"You are so lovely," he murmured, just inches away from my face.
His hands slid up my back and didn't stop until they rested just below my ears under my hair. He held my face, regarding me for what felt like an eternity before touching his lips to mine. I thought my heart would swell so much that it would explode right out of my chest.
Too quickly his hands slid back down my body to wrap around my waist. He pressed a cheek against mine. I breathed in his nearness, savoring the feel of his face.
"You have a way of slowing down time," he whispered. Then he pulled away. "I just wish I could be...I don't know. Someone else. Someone uncomplicated. You deserve better."
I caught his hand and his eye. "You are enough for me, just as you are. I won't ask you to choose between me and Peggy. And we can take it slow. There's no rush" I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. He returned the smile. "Besides, I'm not all that uncomplicated either," I said standing up again, and trying to pull him to his feet. It was getting chilly.
As if on cue, Steve's phone rang from his back pocket. It reminded me to check my own phone, and I dug into my purse as he answered his. My stomach dropped. Thirteen missed calls from my mother.
"Yes," Steve said, glancing at me. I shivered at the look on his face. "We're on our way."