* * * Author's Notes * * *
Firstly, I want to apologize for the long wait for this chapter. Secondly, I want to apologize for the length of this chapter (3,798 words before Author's Notes), but I think you're all going to enjoy it!
Lastly, (and most importantly!) I want to thank my wonderful beta reader, whimsymuse. They've been helping me organize my thoughts and the future plot a bunch, and I can't thank them enough!
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A few weeks had passed since Steve had moved into the apartment directly across the hall from Liz. Liz had found that her new neighbor was courteous and considerate, albeit rather quiet. Liz's daily routine had gone on without much change, though there were a few minor differences.
Almost every morning, as Liz was leaving her apartment to open the store at nine o'clock in the morning, she met Steve just returning from his morning run and breakfast (Liz had suggested a few good places for both down by the parks and monuments). Sundays, Liz noticed, seemed to be Steve's morning off from his fitness regimen. Mondays, the store was closed, so Liz would sleep in and miss him, being as it was the only day a week that she took off from managing the storefront. She would typically use this day to run personal errands and relax. It was the second Monday after Steve had moved in when he and Liz had their first encounter lasting longer than two minutes.
Liz was contemplating whether or not to go out for a late breakfast (or an early lunch, depending on what meal you consider to be taking place at half-past eleven in the morning) as she was going through notifications on her smartphone. She was deleting a few junk emails when she heard a timid knock on the door of her apartment. She got up from the small kitchen table that was set against the wall and pocketed her phone as she went to the door, standing on her toes to peek through the eyehole to see who it was. Recognizing the face on the other side, Liz was glad that she had chosen to change out of pajamas this morning as she opened the door, although she had not got as far as trading her rectangular black-framed glasses for the contact lenses she typically wore throughout the day.
"G'morning, Steve," Liz smiled. The two of them had become friendly as a result of their usual morning greeting in the corridor after Steve had moved into the apartment across the hall.
Steve stood in the hall with his hands on his hips. He wore a light blue workout shirt and darker blue sweatpants, his bright blue eyes looking down at Liz's green ones behind her frames with a half-smile.
"Good morning," he replied, "I didn't know you wore glasses," Steve stated abruptly, tilting his head slightly to the side.
Liz's smile faded somewhat as her gaze darted to the floor for a moment, "Yeah," she started, brushing an auburn strand of hair behind her ear and tucking it behind the arm of the frame that rested there before looking back at Steve, "Unfortunately without them anything passed my nose becomes a blurred mess... I wear contacts most days. What's up?"
Steve raised a hand behind his head and mussed it through his hair. "I hate to bother you," he began, his own eyes darting away to a corner of the floor for a moment before meeting Liz's again, "But I, um... I'm having a bit of trouble with the washer. Can't figure the thing out."
Liz thought that the defeated look on his face was endearing. He was obviously embarrassed about having to ask for her help. She smiled a bit brighter, trying to make Steve feel better about it, "Oh, no problem! The new digital ones we got for the basement laundry room threw me off a bit too when we first started using them."
Steve half-turned and moved towards the open door of his apartment across the corridor, and Liz began to follow. "The thing just keeps beeping every time I push one of the buttons..." Steve tried to explain, trailing off as he led Liz to his apartment. Miss Hill had requested that the unit be outfitted with a private washer and dryer (if it would not be too much trouble) before making the final arrangements for Steve to move into the apartment.
Liz put on her best creepy robot voice, "I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that." She tried not to snicker at her own dorky humor, though Liz's smile was evident.
Steve looked at her, confused, "Who's Dave?"
Liz blushed and looked at the floor, "Oh, no one... I was just quoting an old Sci-Fi movie from the sixties that had this computer named HAL that started disobeying Dave's orders. 2001: A Space Odyssey?"
"I'm sorry. I haven't seen it..." Steve looked genuinely apologetic that he had not understood the reference.
"It's good. I mean, I liked it at least..." Liz shrugged. She was internally scolding herself that she had let her dorky side show so soon. She usually tried to keep that under wraps until she knew someone a bit better. Liz should have known Steve would not be into that stuff just by looking at him. He was definitely one of those macho, sporty types.
To Liz's surprise, Steve smiled and replied a bit enthusiastically, "Then I'll have to watch it sometime."
As she entered the living room from the communal hallway, Liz noticed that the place had not changed much since she had finished furnishing it with Pops a few weeks ago. There were a handful of books on the shelves around the flat-screen television along the same wall as the door and, strangely enough, not a single movie case in sight. A white mug was set on the coffee table in front of the couch next to a newspaper. On the opposing wall, an old motorcycle poster had been hung with tacks. To the left, a few old-looking, monochrome photographs in older-looking picture frames stood next to some manila folders on top of a desk. Behind the desk, sun rays streamed in through the curtainless window that faced the street.
"I have it on DVD. Let me know if you'd like to borrow it." Liz smiled back at Steve as they passed the kitchen entrance (at a quick glance, it appeared untouched) and rounded a corner to a small hall that led to the bedroom (the door was closed) and eventually the bathroom, where a side-by-side front-load washer and dryer pair had been fitted into the linen closet.
"Thank you, I just might take you up on that," Steve sounded very appreciative as they reached the washer and dryer.
Liz glanced at the control panel for the washer. It was set to a normal cycle, but the light denoting this was flashing in unison along with the indicator lights for the rinse and drain phases.
"Well, that's funny," Liz furrowed her eyebrows. These were the same models they had in the basement, so Liz considered herself very familiar with them, but she had never seen the washer blink like that before, "Do you remember what you did before it started blinking like that?"
"Yes, um..." Steve began, "I pushed this," Steve pressed his long index finger into the button that read 'ON,' and the machine beeped, "Then I tried changing the wash type," he rotated the dial upward to the heavy cycle (beep) then back down to the normal cycle (another beep), "And then I pushed this," he pressed the 'HOLD TO START' button for a few seconds. A series of fast beeps sounded, but the washer did nothing else.
"Well, normally that would be the way to do it," Liz encouraged, "Let me try resetting it." Liz pressed the cancel button. The lights on the control panel should have cleared, but another beep sounded, and the same flashing light pattern remained. She held in the cancel button, which should have shut the whole thing off; there was another beep and no change.
"Cute," Liz muttered, not thinking that the machine was cute in the slightest given its current behavior, "I have the PDF on my phone," she said, pulling her phone out of her back pocket.
"PDF?" Steve questioned, looking at Liz with a puzzled expression.
"Yeah, a digital version of the machine manual." Liz pulled the document up on the small screen and swiped through several pages. She tried not to notice Steve's close proximity as he peered over her shoulder with an almost amazed look on his face. She tried even harder not to notice the clean smell of soap mixed with the fresh scent of a recent shower wafting off of him in her direction.
"Says here that it could be a loose hose. Can you help me pull it out from the wall a bit?"
Before Liz even had the chance to pocket her phone, she found herself stepping off to the side as Steve gently pulled out the washer as if it were an empty cardboard box. He stopped when it was about two feet from the back wall of the closet.
"I think that's as far as it goes without detaching something," Steve stated and stood up straight with his hands on his hips, looking at his handy work.
Liz noticed that he did not even skip a breath. She looked up at him with a smirk, "Show off."
Steve snapped his eyes to her and blushed, "No, I just—"
"At ease, soldier, I'm just joking with you." Liz's smirk was still evident as she turned on the flashlight of her phone and placed it off to the side on top of the dryer to her right. Liz slid on her stomach over the top of the washer, feet coming off the floor behind her as she pulled herself towards the back with her hands. She grabbed the phone and peered over into the hole, trying to get a good look at the hoses in the back.
"Do you need help?" There was concern in Steve's voice as Liz heard him shuffle to her right.
"I'm okay. I just can't see anything from this angle. I need to get back there." Liz slid off the washer. Steve was now standing in the corner that had been created adjacent to the dryer when he had pulled out the washing machine.
"Can you hold this for a sec'?" Liz handed him her phone after he nodded, then unzipped her white hoodie. As she pulled it off, the dog tags that hung around her neck clinked. She quickly tucked them into the front of her emerald green tank top to keep them out of the way. She tossed the hoodie on the dryer behind Steve. She turned and used her arms to help herself hop backward onto the top of the washer so that she was sitting on it, then twisted her legs around and disappeared into the hole between the washer and the back of the closet wall. Liz's tiny stature made fitting into the gap relatively painless. Light was already shining down into the dark space. She looked up to find Steve peering down at her bemused, phone-powered flashlight in hand. She reached up, and he handed it to her.
"Thanks," she said, "What's with the look?" She questioned as she began investigating the connecting points of the water hoses. She knew that look. It was the same look she used to get from the guys in some of her engineering classes back at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The are-you-sure-you-know-what-you're-doing? look.
"Nothing, you just—" Steve cut himself off, "Can I do anything to help?"
The drain hose did seem a bit wigglier than it should have been. Liz tried to adjust the hose clamp around the connection point by hand, but she could not get enough leverage on the screw.
"Yeah, I think I found the problem. You don't happen to have a Phillips-head screwdriver, do you?" Liz looked back up at Steve.
He shook his head, "I don't think so."
"No worries, I have one in my toolbox. It's on the floor of my coat closet in my living room, if you don't mind?"
He smiled and nodded, looking happy that he could be of some use, and then disappeared from view. As she crouched, a bit of dust flew up Liz's nose and elicited a sneeze, followed by a cough. Liz cleared her throat. A moment passed before Steve returned.
"Here you go," Steve handed her the screwdriver.
"Thanks," Liz repeated. She decided to loosen the cross-headed screw so that she could reseat the hose and the clamp properly before tightening it again. "Give it a try now? You might need to hold 'CANCEL' first."
Steve disappeared from Liz's narrow viewpoint. She cleared her throat again as she heard Steve try to start the washer. A few seconds later, there was a click and the sound of water flowing through the hose. Liz smiled to herself triumphantly. She cautiously made to stand up. Once upright, she turned off the phone flashlight and handed both the phone and the screwdriver back to Steve.
"We have conquered the machine. Should be good going forward," Liz joked as she cautiously slid forward on her stomach on top of the washer again so as not to upset the hose with her feet. She felt the machine rumble as it started turning over clothing inside.
"I'm impressed," Steve smiled, and suddenly Liz felt strong hands around her waist, her body being lifted, and then her feet hitting the ground. She was so flustered she almost did not remember to stand on her own. Steve bent down and slowly but effortlessly backed the spinning washer against the wall of the closet. The moment his hands were gone, Liz found herself missing them. She quickly shook the thought from her head.
"You're just glad that you weren't doing something wrong," Liz ventured teasingly, trying to keep her composure and hoping the blood she felt rushing to her face was not obvious. She coughed lightly, turning her head into her shoulder.
"You're not entirely wrong about that," Steve stood up and mussed the hair on the back of his head, "I'm surprised you were able to fit back there. Good thing, too. You're tougher than you look."
"Judge me by my size, do you?" Liz could not resist putting on her best Yoda impression, a rather pathetic one at that, she knew, but it was obviously not her normal voice. She coughed into the nook of her elbow.
Steve shook his head apologetically, though there was a slight smile there, "That reference is lost on me."
"Yoda, from Star Wars?" Liz felt that was all the explanation that was necessary.
Steve shook his head again, "No, sorry..."
Liz's eyes widened at this, "You've never seen Star Wars?! Have you been living under a rock?" she almost yelled, incredulously. It was one of her all-time favorite film sagas, after all, and anyone who is anyone has seen at least one of them.
"You could say that... Why does everyone react that way?" Steve chuckled at her enthusiasm; his smile reached his eyes for once.
Liz coughed again into her elbow, this time more violently. Her chest suddenly felt tight, like something heavy was steadily pushing against it. Liz tried to take a deep breath, but her lungs would not allow it. She forced a cough in an effort to get some air moving before taking a shallow wheezing breath. Liz put a hand against the tiled bathroom wall to steady herself.
Steve's expression rapidly changed, "Elizabeth?" He bent down to Liz's eye level, alarm taking over his face. He steadied her other shoulder with his strong hand, and Liz gasped for another wheezing breath, "Liz? What's happening?"
Liz could not respond. She was focused on trying to breathe as the onset of her asthma attack began to escalate. She backed away from Steve and moved down the hall as quickly as she could, Steve right behind her. Liz ran through Steve's living room and back across the hall to her apartment. She quickly found her messenger bag in her living room and frantically upended it, spilling the contents onto the coffee table. Liz wheezed strenuously as she reached for her inhaler and immediately breathed in the medicine that pushed out of the canister. Her chest started to ease as she took a second and then a third breath with the device. Liz was able to take her next breath without the aid of the inhaler and sat down on her couch, taking slow, deliberate breaths. Steve was suddenly sitting next to her, hand outstretched to her shoulder. He was studying her face, worry written all over his.
"What was that you were saying about being tough?" Liz tried to joke, words coming out slowly between air. She purposely avoided his gaze, embarrassed about the incident.
"Do you need a doctor? I could get Kate," Steve asked like a man on a mission, unblinking.
Liz shook her head, "No. No, I'm okay. She's at the hospital now, anyway. Asthma flares up every once in a while. I think it was the dust in the closet. But that's why I have this." She held up the little blue plastic dispenser with a metal canister sticking out the tall end.
"Are you sure?" Steve's gaze was relentless.
Liz looked him in the eyes, "Yeah, I'm good." She allowed herself a half-smile, "Thank you."
Liz started collecting the spilled items that had been strewn across the coffee table and returning them to her messenger bag. Steve helped to gather a few items that had fallen to the floor. Among them was Liz's sketchpad that had landed face up and open.
"Is this the same drawing you were working on the other day when I came to the shop?" Steve studied the now fully penned and colored drawing of Captain America. Minus a background, it was still surprisingly lifelike. Liz was a bit shocked that he had remembered it in its rough, penciled form (or at all if she was going to be truly honest with herself).
Liz blushed, "Yeah, it's just a hobby I have," she shrugged like it was no big deal.
Steve gazed at the drawing for another moment, thumbing the spiraled spine of the sketchpad, "Can I ask you something?" There was a hint of trepidation in his voice, hardly noticeable. Before Liz could reply, Steve added, "Why Captain America?" His gaze still remained on the drawing.
Liz shifted her weight on her feet while she motioned to pull back a loose auburn strand behind her ear. She tried to deflect the question, "HAL and Yoda are over your head, but you know Captain America?" There was a teasing tone in Liz's voice, or she hoped there was at least.
Steve glanced up from the drawing to Liz with a half-smile, "Humor me?"
Liz could not discern the look in Steve's eyes. A sudden and swift ripple of rawness flashed across the deep blue pools. If she had not known better, Liz would have construed it as a silent plea. She felt compelled to spill her guts to him, a guy she hardly knew who might as well have been a perfect stranger. And for the first time in a very long while, Liz did not find that idea absolutely terrifying.
"Pops told me a story once when I was little," Liz began, glancing to the drawing herself, "He said it was 'classified information' back in the day when he had first started at his agency, but Pops has been known to embellish the details, being the riveting storyteller that he is," Liz was smiling to herself, "He had me convinced that a birth defect was the result of catching a cannonball in his chest for years," she had started rambling, but saw that Steve still had a small smile.
"Anyway," Liz continued, shaking her train of thought back into place, "He told me this old cliché; that some people are born great, and others have greatness thrust upon them."
Steve interjected softly with a head tilt, "Shakespeare?"
"Is that who started it?" Liz shrugged and moved on. She made a mental note to question Steve about knowing Shakespeare over Yoda later, "Pops said that Cap was neither, that before the star-spangled shield and muscles he was just a little guy who always went out of his way to do the right thing, even if it wasn't the popular thing or even the smart thing to do."
Steve was looking at her intently. Liz glanced back down to the drawing in his hands, "After he acquired his super-strength, Cap went on to do the right thing in a much bigger way. He chose to be great, which is what stuck with me. There were plenty of times where he could have checked out and gone home, but he didn't."
Liz finished her spiel with a shrug, looking up at Steve.
Steve gave a nod and a small smile that could not reach his eyes, then looked down at the drawing once more, "Do you know how you're going to finish it?" he thumbed the spine again before handing the sketchbook to Liz.
She shook her head, "No, not yet," as she accepted the book from him.
"You're very talented. I'm sure you'll think of something." He smiled, looking back at Liz.
Liz shrugged, blushing, "Thanks," she kept her eyes averted as she stowed the sketchpad back in her bag. A moment passed before Liz realized that she was missing a few things. "Oh, I think I left some of my stuff back at your place."
"I'll get it for you." Steve was out the door before Liz could protest. She had a hunch he did not want her to risk going back into the environment that caused her sudden attack a few minutes ago. A moment later, Liz met Steve at the door to her apartment as he returned with her hoodie, phone, and screwdriver.
Liz smiled appreciatively, "Thank you."
"Of course," Steve said smiling, "And thank you for helping me with the washer."
"What are land-ladies for?" Liz shrugged with a joking tone.
Just then, a ringing could be heard from Steve's apartment across the corridor. He looked back towards the sound with furrowed eyebrows, becoming tense.
"You ok?" Liz questioned, slightly worried about the sudden change in his demeanor.
Steve took a few seconds to respond, "Just not expecting a call. There are only a few people who have that number." He looked back at Liz as the landline continued to ring.
"I should probably answer it," Steve started as he turned to leave, "Have a good day— if I don't see you."
"You too."
Liz watched him cross the hall and shut his door before closing her own. She tried to shrug off Steve's tenseness as she immediately went to go put in her contact lenses.
Liz decided that she was going out for lunch.
* * * Author's Notes * * *
Congratulations! You've finished the super long chapter :-)
If you've enjoyed it, votes and comments are much appreciated and get me excited to keep this story going! Of course, it will keep going either way, but they make me happy ^__^
Bonus points to anyone who can guess why Steve is getting a bit worked up over a phone call ;-)
Thanks for reading!
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