Liz's dining table looked as though she thought that penciled sketches on paper made for a proper tablecloth. In one corner of the table to her left sat Liz's laptop. She was currently cycling through reference images and videos on the internet as she leaned away from the pad of paper directly in front of her. Billy and Emma Schaeffer's eleventh birthday was coming up soon, and Liz was designing a special gift for each of them that she planned to make herself from scratch. She had decided on replica gauntlets worn by each of their favorite heroes: Iron Man for Billy and Black Widow for Emma.
The sketches that currently covered the table contained drafts of designs and dimensions for particular parts as well as schematics for electronics; Liz had planned to include light-up components in the appropriate areas as well as a small speaker and onboard microchip with a motion sensor for sound effects that she would program in later. Compared to some of her senior projects for the Aerospace Engineering program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, something like this was mere child's play. Liz scoured the internet for images and footage from the Battle of New York. There was an abundance of it available, but it was difficult finding all the necessary angles with enough detail to be sure of her sketches' accuracy, but Liz was determined.
Actually, if truth be told, Liz welcomed the distraction. Steve had not wasted any time re-enlisting after he had first told Liz of the idea back on Memorial Day. Once he did, there was an immediate shift in what had become routine that left Liz with a number of conflicting emotions and too much time to spend thinking about them. Since Steve had started training locally for whatever specialized team he had not disclosed, Liz was lucky if she saw him once every couple of days. It was not so bad until Steve had started taking part in night training two weeks ago. What had formerly been their regular movie nights on Wednesdays and Sundays now seemed to be continually and indefinitely postponed by one of them due to scheduling.
Liz had not realized just how valuable Steve's help down in the shop had been until it was no longer regularly available. Pops was now aggressively trying to convince Liz that they should hire some teenager part-time (mainly to help with stock management and heavy lifting), and Liz was determined to be able to go on fine without Steve around all the time just as she had been doing before he had moved into the building. But if Liz was going to be honest with herself, she missed Steve's company, although she really rather preferred to blame it on the withdrawals from the hot coffee he used to bring her on a regular basis.
In contrast, her ex-boyfriend was trying every trick in the book to get Liz to agree to see him. Jason would send what seemed to be thoughtful text messages now almost every day, most of which Liz would not acknowledge except for sporadic, one-word responses. Occasionally, Jason would call, and Liz would not answer. He would leave a voicemail briefly describing his day, say he missed her, and end with an open invitation to meet. Liz contemplated changing her number every now and again but could not justify whether or not it was worth the trouble.
But there was another feeling that Liz tried to bury. A tiny, satisfied part that actually liked the attention. It kinda feels good knowing that I'm wanted... Liz thought to herself, Even if I don't ever want to be with him again, I guess it's better than pining over someone that doesn't seem to want anything other than friendship...
Liz had been foolish to think that a guy like Steve could possibly reciprocate any romantic feelings for her. She believed that they had become rather close over the past few months, and, as much as Liz had tried to fight it, she had found herself developing something of a crush on him. After the time that they had spent together on Memorial Day laughing together, crying together — Okay, maybe I was the only one crying like an idiot, Liz thought — holding hands, being held by him... It seemed that maybe he also could have— Liz did not allow herself to finish the train of thought. She sighed as she clicked through more images on the screen, none of them giving the angle, or even the heroes, that she needed. I read too much into him just being a nice guy, Liz decided, And here I am alone. Again...
Liz adjusted her glasses and clicked on another old video news clip on her laptop. This one had caught her eye because it showed what appeared to be a maskless Captain America fighting off some aliens alongside someone now known as Thor, the god of Asgard. She watched for a few minutes intently as she tried to get a good look at the mysterious star-spangled imposter, but he never turned to face the camera. Liz was unwilling to believe that the Captain America on her computer screen was the same one she had grown up hearing stories about from her father and Pops. Who the hell is this dude? She wondered, He's the only one who hasn't been accounted for by the government in the news.
Liz sighed as she sat back in her dining chair. She removed her glasses and set them on the table, then pressed her palms onto her closed eyes to relieve the strain she felt on them. Liz had been at this for hours after closing up the shop tonight. It was now past midnight, and she was starting to lose focus on the project that had taken over her dining area. Her smartphone began to sound, notifying Liz that the laundry she had brought down to the basement earlier needed her attention. Liz put her glasses back on and silenced the phone timer. She paused the video clip on the computer and pocketed her phone in her hoodie as she stood up, taking a moment to stretch before heading downstairs.
When she entered the basement laundry room, Liz found that she was not the only one who had the idea for a midnight laundry run. "Hey, Kate," Liz greeted her neighbor as she approached a dryer, "I see you got my invite for the basement pajama party."
"I'm a bit of a night owl," Kate laughed at the joke as she continued folding clothes and placing them neatly into her wicker laundry basket. She was wearing a yoga top and pants with flat slippers, and her blonde hair was drawn up into a messy ponytail. Kate looked very well put-together compared to Liz's frumpy hoodie, oversized fuzzy pajama pants, and even fuzzier Chewbacca slippers.
"Same," Liz replied. She opened the dryer and started pulling out her warm, clean clothing, "I feel more productive at night sometimes, or at least that's what I tell myself to justify being up anyway." Liz felt her phone vibrate in her hoodie pocket as a text message notification sounded. She pulled it out to see who it was, furrowing her eyebrows at the screen.
"Apparently, we're not the only ones," Kate nodded in the direction of Liz's phone as she folded one of her hospital scrubs.
Liz sighed, "It's Jason. Again." She had no desire to read the message. Liz dismissed the notification, set the phone on top of the dryer, and continued folding.
"Oh, honey... Please tell me you're not thinking about starting things up with him again," Kate stopped folding and looked at Liz with concern.
"No, but that doesn't mean he's not..." Liz trailed off in an exasperated tone as she wrestled with a pair of jeans that were holding together a knotted ball of clothing.
"Good. It's been nice finally seeing you smile for a change," Kate started, "A smile, if I dare to say it, seems to be much more common when a certain handsome neighbor of ours is around."
Liz looked to Kate just in time to catch her wink, and Liz began to blush, "Steve and I are just friends," Liz rushed defensively. For some reason, she always seemed to panic when anyone suspected or suggested Liz of having feelings for a guy, "It wouldn't matter much anyway. He's re-enlisted and will probably be deploying somewhere soon," Liz tried to shrug it off. She absolutely admired Steve for what he was doing — and he deserved all of her support — but Liz had already gotten a taste of what it would be like when he left, and thinking of him possibly being in any kind of danger made her feel sick in the pit of her stomach.
"Liz, you are a terrible liar," Kate laughed, "Your face completely gives it away that you have feelings for him. And I've heard him leaving your apartment late at night after— whatever it was the two of you were doing." Kate's tone strongly suggested that activities far from innocent had been taking place during the late-night hours inside Liz's apartment.
"We were watching movies!" Liz insisted with a shocked expression, "And that hasn't happened in a while..." Liz's phone started to ring and vibrate on the top of the dryer. She looked at the screen to see the caller ID read "Steve" over a picture that Liz had taken of him with one of the Schaeffer twins hanging on each arm as he lifted them into the air like dumbbells. They had all been laughing.
"Speak of the devil," Kate said smugly.
Liz answered the phone after a few rings, "Steve?" She asked timidly. Receiving a phone call at close to one o'clock in the morning from anyone was curious. But a phone call from Steve at this time of night could be cause for worry. He had never called her this late before.
"Thank God," Steve muttered under his breath. Liz guessed he had not meant for that to slip out. "Liz? I'm sorry about calling this late. I just got in— Your door was open and all the lights were on and you weren't here and... I got worried," Steve rushed through the explanation, "Are you okay?" He sounded genuinely concerned.
"Yeah, I'm in the basement with Kate finishing up some laundry," Liz tried to hold back a small smile that was fighting its way onto her lips, "What did you think? I got carried off by ninjas or something?" She could not pass up the opportunity to have a little fun at his expense.
"Well, excuse me for caring," Liz could hear the sarcastic smile in Steve's voice. There was a brief pause before he continued, "Who is Captain America?" He asked softly.
"Way to be random," Liz chided jokingly, "Are you— Are you drunk or something?" It would explain this conversation perfectly if that were the case.
"What? No! It says it on your computer..." Steve trailed off. Liz thought she detected more worry in his tone but was not sure, "Which is sitting in the middle of what I thought was the sign of a struggle at first..." Steve sounded like he was chastising himself for obviously overreacting to nothing.
"Oh, I went off on a tangent while looking for reference pictures. The title's just some clickbait to get more views on that video. It never shows his face," Liz rambled.
There was another pause before Steve spoke again, "Since you're awake," he began, "Do you— Would you like to finally get around to a movie night? I'm feeling restless from the night training, and it's altered my sleep schedule..."
Liz smiled, "Sure, I'm off tomorrow, so I have no problem with that."
"Alright," Steve replied, "Mind if I pick?"
"Go for it. I'll be up in a minute," Liz said and hung up the phone. Liz started hurriedly piling her laundry into her plastic basket without folding it.
"Sure," Kate said and started laughing, "He calls you in the middle of the night to see you, and you literally can't get back upstairs fast enough. Yeah, there's nothing going on," her voice was dripping with sarcasm.
Liz stood up from her laundry basket and sighed, "There really is nothing, Kate," she started, "But that— It doesn't mean that I don't—" Liz was fumbling for words as she looked down at the floor, unsure of why she was saying it. She had always been terrified of admitting that she had romantic feelings for someone, even to a person who was completely outside the situation. Perhaps the late hour was overriding her inhibition just a bit.
"That you like him," Kate finished for her, softly.
Liz nodded, still avoiding eye contact. She sighed one more time before admitting it out loud, "I like him a lot..."
Kate gently touched a hand to Liz's shoulder, prompting Liz to finally look at her, "Then sweetie, you need to stop torturing yourself and do something about it. Put your best self forward and let him know how you feel." Kate lifted her wicker laundry basket, which was now full to the brim with neatly folded clothing, before looking back at Liz and continuing, "You say he might be deployed soon. There's no knowing whether or not he'll come back from that."
Kate had addressed Liz's biggest fear about the circumstances right up front, "What if I do? And then what if I lose him?" Liz had trouble finding her voice barely above a whisper.
"Then take it from someone who knows," Kate started with a sad smile, "It won't be as bad as regretting that you never tried."
"I—" Liz started. There was no use arguing it; Kate was right. Liz sighed again, looking down. Her own pajamas caught her attention. "I can't go up there dressed like this," Liz said, immediately beginning to rummage through her laundry basket. She heard Kate start laughing next to her as Liz pulled her hoodie over her head and replaced it with a black, band t-shirt (thank goodness she still had on a bra, or this could have been awkward). Liz readjusted her glasses, then swapped her baggy, fuzzy pajama bottoms for a pair of black and grey plaid flannels that actually looked like they fit her small frame. The Chewbacca slippers would have to stay, though she did quickly throw on a clean pair of socks.
"Ready, then?" Kate asked, still chuckling lightly.
"I guess," Liz smushed the rest of her unfolded clothing into the basket and lifted it up, following Kate out of the laundry room towards the stairwell. She still was not sure what she was going to do about this Steve situation. But somehow, she felt better just having talked about it with someone.
Liz said goodnight to Kate once they reached the third floor. Liz found her apartment door still open and saw Steve in the far corner of her dining area as she entered. He was standing with his hands in the pockets of his navy, zip-up hoodie gazing at the many sketches that covered Liz's table.
"Hey," Liz greeted Steve as she gently kicked the door closed behind her, still carrying her laundry basket. She immediately started heading towards her bedroom with the load.
"Hey," Steve replied with a smile.
"How was training?" Liz called from over the threshold of her bedroom door, which was directly adjacent to the living room. She set down the basket in the corner next to her dresser and kicked off the fuzzy slippers. Sorry, Chewie, Liz mused to herself before rejoining Steve in what had been temporarily transformed into a chaotic workspace.
"Long," was all Steve had to say on the subject. Liz approached the dining table that he stood over. Steve glanced back at the pages that spread across it, "It looks like you've been busy, too. Building your own Stark suit?" He nodded in the direction of one of the electronic schematics Liz had drawn out for one of the Iron Man gauntlets.
"If I had an extra few million dollars lying around, I might have been," Liz laughed, "But no, I'm making a toy replica for Billy. Emma's getting a Black Widow one. Birthday presents," Liz explained. The truth was that the fantasy of having one of those flight suits was at the top of Liz's "Ridiculous Things I Totally Want But Will Never Happen" list, pod racing on Tatooine or visiting Hogwarts and playing Quidditch being a very close tie for second. She had this thing about anything to do with flying.
"I'm amazed that you can do this," Steve started, "I can't make sense of any of this math..." It was evident through his tone that Steve sounded impressed, perhaps even a bit overwhelmed. Steve then reached for another page half-hidden under another in the corner of the dining table behind Liz's laptop, the screen still displaying a paused video clip, "What's this one?" Steve asked as he brought the page between him and Liz so that they could both easily look at it.
Liz was briefly distracted by Steve's suddenly close proximity. The next breath that she inhaled overwhelmed her sense of smell with Steve's scent. It was a natural, masculine aroma not masked by any cologne, with a slight hint of soap that Liz found enticing. Liz blinked hard in order to get her eyes to refocus, as they had momentarily glazed over. She looked at the page Steve held in front of them both, "That's an art piece of a flight suit concept I came up with as part of a project for my Master's degree," Liz started. She began pointing out various parts of the sketch with her finger, "It's pretty much a wearable backpack. The wings you see here unfold from it and collapse back in when not in use. The back piece itself doubles as a jetpack, and the wings are used to stabilize flight and adjust direction. Kind of inspired by the Greek legend of Icarus."
"I can definitely see that," said Steve, "Did you ever build it?"
Liz laughed, "Again, maybe if I had that extra couple million dollars..." Liz trailed off.
"I might be able to talk to someone..." Steve began.
Liz furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him, "What? About this sketch?"
"I have connections with some people that could help you," Steve began to explain, "This design would be valued and could be used to do a lot of good." Steve's expression had grown almost earnest.
"You, sir, are beginning to sound like Pops," Liz sidestepped the suggestion, "What exactly have you gotten yourself into?" Liz asked, bewildered and beginning to worry. She knew that Pops had gotten into some dangerous business in past years when he had worked for the government. This kind of talk had been common from Pops when Liz had still been in school, even though he had been retired for quite some time by then.
Steve looked at Liz for a moment, his blue eyes shifting back and forth between her green ones. "I—," Steve seemed to struggle for words before letting out a sigh and averting his gaze, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Steve placed the drawing down on the table gently close to where he had found it.
Liz stared at him, still avoiding her gaze, "Try me," she pressed. A moment of silence passed between the two of them. Liz cautiously brought her hand up to touch his shoulder to coax him to look at her before she continued, "Steve, I— I want you to know that— It's okay for you to tell me stuff, if you want to, because—" Liz cut herself off and bit her lip, Because I might be falling for you— No, don't you dare say that! She argued with herself. Steve finally turned his eyes back to her with an interested expression. Liz's heart had started beating faster in a panic. She was trying to take Kate's advice and find the right words to convey her feelings, but the more Liz tried, the more her courage slipped away. She could hear her blood pumping in her ears as she tried to think of a way to get herself out of the corner that she had backed herself into. After a long pause, Liz finally finished, "Because I care about you— And I care about if you're going to be okay doing whatever next-level stuff they've got you training for." Liz folded her arms over her chest as if to shield the emotional opening she had just created. The words may not have sounded like much to most people, but for Liz, it was a very difficult thing to admit.
Steve's eyes had such conflict in them; again, he looked to struggle for something to say. Liz turned and put her attention on one of the mathematical equations in front of her on the table, calculating the necessary power output for one of the gauntlets. Instantly she felt foolish. The time between midnight and morning had a way of making her speak without thinking and say more than she had intended; things she often came to regret. Liz smoothed a strand of auburn hair behind her ear closest to Steve, then cursed mentally for allowing that nervous compulsion to surface.
"Liz, I—" Steve cut himself off briefly and put an arm around her shoulder before continuing, "I care about you too. And I promise I'm not gonna let anything happen to me."
Liz turned her face to him and met his gaze. His face was marked by exhaustion, worry, and concern. Liz did not know how anyone could make that promise and be absolutely confident in it, but one look into Steve's clear, blue eyes made it evident that he sincerely meant every word.
Liz wrapped her arm around his waist, unintentionally pulling herself closer to him so that the sides of their torsos touched. She forced a smile as she looked away, "Sorry, one A. M. has a way of making me a little overdramatic. I'm rehearsing for my Oscar, can't you tell?"
Steve laughed and pulled away suddenly, quickly crossing the room towards the television, "I think it would look good right about here," he gestured to the top of the movie storage shelf. He dusted off the top with his hand before showcasing the barren area, "Don't you?"
Liz giggled before forcing a serious nod, "Oh, yeah. Definitely. I will be sure to call you for assistance when the Academy sends me home with my mini-man statue."
"You'd better," Steve teased as they laughed at each other's silly jokes.
"So, did you pick a movie?" Liz's laugh faded into an unexpected yawn.
Steve looked at her with a half-smile, "I did. But I know it's late, so if you're tired—"
Liz waved off her yawn with her hand and smiled, "No, I'm fine. Let's do it." Liz could admit that the night may have been starting to catch up with her, but she did not want to pass up the chance to spend some time with Steve. This was the most she had seen him all week.
Liz made her way over towards him and took a place on the couch as Steve smiled and opened a DVD case that had been lying on the coffee table. Liz reached for the case after Steve discarded it as he turned to load the disc into the player.
"Roman Holiday?" Liz asked skeptically as she looked at the picture on the cover. A man and a woman, whom Liz assumed to be Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn, respectively, going by the credits above the movie title, were riding a moped in front of the Coliseum in Italy. "This isn't one of mine," Liz continued as she flipped the case to search the back cover for a year. She found that it was from 1953.
"Pops lent it to me last week, but I just haven't been able to get to it," Steve explained, setting the flatscreen to the correct input and joining Liz on the couch, "Would you rather watch something else?"
Liz brought her legs up to sit cross-legged and pulled the blanket that she kept draped over the back of the couch over her lap, "No, I'm fine with this. I actually don't think I've seen it. Roll the film!" She insisted with a smile.
Steve grinned before hitting 'PLAY' on the DVD player remote.
Once her eyes had adjusted to watching the film in black and white, it did not take Liz long to realize that Roman Holiday was, in fact, a member of the romance film genre. And once she had figured that out, her mind began to buzz with questions and over-analyses. Of course, Pops would lend Steve a romance flick. That man is anything but subtle... But did Steve know? This isn't the type of movie we usually watch... If he knew what it was, did he have a reason for wanting to watch it with me? Maybe I'm just being idiotically hopeful...
Steve had adjusted his sitting position so that he had an arm draped over the back of the couch behind Liz. She was almost afraid to move, but one of her legs had fallen asleep, and she needed to shift it out to the side. Liz propped her head on the couch as she sank into it. In doing so, she ended up closer to Steve. Another few inches, and she would have been leaning on him. Liz looked up at Steve to see that he was quite engrossed in the film, as usual. He must have felt her eyes on him, though. Steve turned and gave a brief smile that looked content. Liz smiled back, finding herself stealing glances at his lips unintentionally. Liz seriously considered closing the gap that remained between her lips and his, but the fear of rejection paralyzed her.
Instead, Liz turned her attention back to the screen, adjusting her glasses and pulling her blanket up to her chin. The added warmth began to make her feel quite cozy. Liz tried to suppress another yawn, but it was not long before her eyelids began to grow heavy. Liz was vaguely aware of the princess being asked to go dancing by a hopeful barber as her consciousness faded into sleep.
* * * Author's Notes * * *
It has been quite an amazing time on Wattpad for me! Since the story was Featured in the Fanfiction category, it has gotten into the hands of so many new readers. I want to thank you ALL for your follows, votes, and encouragement! It is absolutely mind-blowing to me to see how well this story has been received by so many people, and I could not be more appreciative.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I hope that it lives up to your expectations in writing quality! So many of the comments on this story have been mentioning this, so I really hope I haven't let anyone down :-) I do not consider myself to be anything close to a professional writer, but it makes me so happy that so many of you think that I am actually somewhat decent at this little hobby of mine.
As always, I want to thank whimsymuse for being an amazing beta reader for this story. You have them to thank for making sure that I stay on track and that each chapter is the best it can be before being posted.
I've enjoyed interacting with you all in the comments, so please don't be shy when it comes to voicing your questions and opinions! Here's a conversation starter for you quiet folks:
What do you think is running through Steve's mind throughout this chapter?
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