[ She liked that part of him that hadn't been trying to impress anyone. The little nerd who read Tolkien and was delighted by (barely) flying cars. The way he looked after his family and doted on his sister. How he believed in Steph when she couldn't believe in herself, even helping her get into art school. Was it any surprise she'd followed him into the war? ]
It wouldn't have changed anything. At least now you get the new me. [ Still broken, just in a different way. But maybe in a way he understands. ] You don't gotta worry about me dying anymore. And I'm really pretty now.
Yeah. Heard you were ranked 'Sexiest Woman Alive' five times in a row, was it? I'm surprised you can still fit your head through the door.
( he always thought she was pretty—devastatingly so, even back then in brooklyn when she'd swear he was lying through his teeth. he remembers dragging her out to all the funfairs and the small parties in town, telling her she looked fine, and getting that famous rogers stink-eye in return. she was never convinced. but he never stopped trying; he couldn't stand the thought of her cooping herself up, especially after her ma passed. )
( if they were talking in person, her 'ass' comment would have earned an innocent shrug and a claim of ignorance—a lie so transparent it wouldn't have fooled a child, let alone steph. )
What are they saying?
( he doesn't read those magazines or the tabloids. he did go to the museum though. once. but after steph's supposed death, he'd avoided the place like the plague. the thought of hearing strangers talk about his best friend—his gone best friend—seems like it'd be too much. )
Many historians believed you were the real Captain America, and I was just propaganda to distract everyone else. Some of them also thought we were having an affair since you apparently had someone waiting for you back in Brooklyn. The romance writers certainly liked that.
[ There were many other takes, but those were some of the most annoying and amusing. The other Avengers had been happy to provide her the cliff notes of everything they'd read and learned, including the memes. ]
You've seen the musical? They gave us a whole love song and everything.
( note to self: don't look into the weird art stuff. )
6? 8?
( too early? too late? why is he unsure? why is this so difficult? usually, he'd just show up at whatever ungodly hour with a bag of takeout and that's that. but this... this is different. they're crossing a line. this is a date. a real first date. is everything about to change? or... everything already has. )
6? Start early, get home early, avoid the crowds? We can even do brunch instead, we're not drinking anyway.
[ She'd suggest that he just come over at whatever hour with takeout, but it feels weird now that they're talking about a date and not just platonically hanging out. She doesn't want him to think she's propositioning him or anything. ]
( if this is a date—and it damn well is—he wants to do it right. they'd missed too many chances for a normal beginning. someday, he wants them to look back and say they'd at least tried to do it the right way. )
I'll pick you up at six. ( a statement of fact this time. no room for argument. ) Put on a dress. I'll take you somewhere nice.
( he already has the beginnings of a plan formulating in his mind. a favor he can call in from a guy who knows a guy—some exclusive place in the city that requires reservations months in advance. getting a table last-minute is a power move he rarely bothers with. but for her? hell, why not go all out. )
[ She has a nice dress in the fashion of their time that's been collecting dust in her closet as she'd been saving it for a special occasion. Guess this calls for it. And though she hasn't done so in a while, she decides to style her hair too. It's nothing like the curls she used to favor before the serum — as did all the ladies back then — but it's enough of an effort for a date.
They really are going on a date. She still can't quite believe it.
She has a hearty snack before pick up time though; the last thing she wants to do is stuff her face while they're "somewhere nice", both because that'll be such a turn off, and because she doesn't want him to spend more than he has to, with how ridiculously expensive New York restaurants are these days. Damn supersoldier metabolism.
And while there shouldn't be any danger... she slips a handgun into a thigh holster anyway, as well as a knife disguised as a tube of mascara into her handbag. She doesn't trust their luck, not with the way their lives have gone. ]
( bucky had opted for his standard uniform: black jeans, black tee. but he'd shrugged on a blazer and spent a stupid amount of time polishing his boots. maybe he should've added some color. too late now. black is safe. it helps him blend into the shadows, a habit too ingrained to break, even for a date.
he is ten minutes early. his boots are quiet on the apartment stairs. normally, he'd just knock, but tonight has rules. he forces himself to slow down, pausing on the landing to draw a steadying breath. the nervous flutter in his gut is ridiculous. it's just steph. you've known her your whole life. what are you so afraid of?
screwing it all up. the thought is a cold splash of water. oh, no. no. he shoves it down hard. no second-guessing. he is here. she is in there. they are doing this.
he clears his throat, his gaze dropping to the small bouquet in his hand. sunflowers. he'd even asked the florist for the water-in-a-cotton-swab trick so they'd survive if she decides to just chuck them on the table. no pressure.
a practiced, easy smile settles on his face. he knocks. and waits. )
[ He doesn't see her practically jump to her feet at the sound of his knock. She'd been ready for at least an hour, equal parts excited and anxious about screwing things up, and has been stress sketching to pass the time. She hasn't been on a date in ages. And never with him. ]
Hey— oh, wow.
[ She's no longer clad in her attention-grabbing blue suit with a giant star, but there's no way she's not standing out in contrast to his tactical blacks. Her blonde hair is a bright halo around her face, her red dress a warning sign. It's better this way though; since the serum their roles had been reversed, as she'd been shoved into the spotlight while he disappeared into the shadows. Sometimes she wonders if he ever resented her for it.
Right now, though, she's smiling, a little dumbstruck by how nice he looks. Then she smoothens her skirt self-consciously. ]
Need to come in for anything before we go? Water? Bathroom break?
[ That's probably not date etiquette, but he's still her best friend first of all. She wants him to enjoy this even if things don't work out. ]
( the air leaves his lungs in a quiet rush. he's seen her a thousand times, but never like this. not really. his gaze holds for a beat too long, committing this new version of her to a memory that feels centuries old, before he remembers himself and offers a slow, genuine smile. )
Hi. ( his voice is softer than he'd intended. the habit is too strong to break; bucky steps forward and draws her into their usual hug. but the familiarity ends there. the scent of her perfume is new, intoxicating, and the solid beat of his heart kicks up a notch against his ribs. he holds her for a second longer than usual before leaning back, the bouquet appearing in his hand as if from nowhere. )
For you. ( he offers the flowers, his eyes never leaving hers. ) You look... incredible. ( a faint, self-deprecating smirk touches his lips as he glances down at his own outfit. ) Might have to up my game next time. ( but he catches himself, his tone shifting back to earnest reassurance. ) Not that I'm saying you're not perfectly dressed for where we're going. You are. ( he gives a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head then, a silent command to stop talking before he says too much. )
[ Her smile brightens at the flowers. Accepting them with care — extra care, since these are her first flowers from him that hadn't been some sort of 'get well soon' present — she takes a moment to just look them over, even if she's seen plenty other sunflowers before. He really carried these around for her? She's touched.
And though she's been complimented on her appearance many times before, since the serum anyway, now she blushes. It darkens when she hears next time. He'd said might, too, so nothing's guaranteed, but the fact that he isn't entirely dismissing the possibility of a second date is more than she can ask for. ]
Are you kidding? You look great. I'm gonna have to fight off everyone who tries to steal you tonight. [ She jokes, but she's willing to bet it'll happen, or at least the flirting part. Or maybe he'll realize halfway that they really are better off as friends and he'll leave with someone else.
Stop catastrophizing, Stephanie. But she supposes it's easier to brace for the worst. It doesn't hurt as bad when you're already hurting.
Since he doesn't say he needs to come in, she locks the door behind her then steps close to hook her arm around his. Like the hug, it's not supposed to be new, but it feels like it is anyway. ]
Do I get a hint where we're going?
[ If he found a place that has dancing — that isn't a club — she'll be impressed. She's ready for that now, too. She hadn't done a lot of dancing growing up since her lungs could barely keep up, but she has no such issues anymore, and she'd had plenty of dance practice during her USO days. The chorus girls had taught her several dances. Including some sexy ones. ]
Hm. ( he lets a thoughtful pause hang in the air as they walk to the elevator, pretending to weigh his decision. he holds his silence as the doors slide shut, enclosing them in the quiet, mirrored box. their reflection stares back—and his breath catches. she is a vision. it's a strange and sudden shift in perception; for decades, his view of her had been framed by the unbreakable, familiar lines of friendship. it had taken her asking him out to shatter that frame, and the woman standing beside him now is somehow both his oldest friend and a breathtaking revelation. the idea of her having to fight off anyone is laughable; he'll be the one on guard duty all night, silently warning every other patron away. what the hell, he decides. her reaction will be worth it. )
You remember that place we passed after we went shopping for your art stuff? ( the one she'd pointed out when she thought he wasn't really listening. he'd shrugged it off, muttering that it looked like a lot of effort for a meal, even if some big-shot chef was cooking. but he remembers. top-notch, impossible to get into, with a space for dancing in the middle. classy. )
Well, I was able to get us a table. ( he braces himself, half-expecting a playful smack to the arm for keeping it a secret. but look at her—she is dressed for it perfectly. and his blazer, he'd been firmly told by his contact, is perfectly appropriate. )
[ The silence isn't supposed to be new either, or at least Steph has had a few years to get used to the new Bucky, the one from After. But the one she's with tonight isn't quite him, either, and she doesn't really know how to feel about that. Oh, she isn't any less in love with him, but she's struck by the realization that he's both her oldest friend and a total stranger.
The restaurant choice slams that point home. ]
For real? Oh, wow.
[ She stares down at the flowers in her hand. High-end places aren't her style, not even after everything she's been through and the fact that she's pretty much a celebrity in her own right. But her silence isn't from discomfort or disapproval. Rather, it's because: ] You didn't have to go through all that trouble for me, Buck. I ain't worth it.
[ Fuck, she's really terrible at dating, isn't she? The night hasn't even started and she's already messing things up.
She desperately tries to remedy the situation by quickly adding: ] You didn't have to sell your arm for that reservation, did you? I'd sell the shield, but I'd have to get it back from Sam first.
( a soft, weary chuckle escapes him. he shoots her a sidelong glance, the one that's equal parts amused and eternally tired. )
A guy I know owes me a favor. Everything's on the house.
( the only thing that cost him is the bouquet of flower he'd bought her. a cheap date, by any measure. the last thing he wants is for her to think this is a burden. as the elevator doors slide open, he gestures for her to go first. )
But if you'd be more comfortable at a Wendy's, just say the word. I hear the Baconator's a national treasure.
[ A favor isn't exactly free, but before she can make her point, he suggests going to Wendy's instead and she has to laugh as she steps out of the elevator. Wendy's for a first date! Sam would never let them live it down. Bucky more than her. ]
And let this go to waste?
[ She elbows him lightly on the ribs once he comes up next to her — this referring to his outfit — before snaking her arm around his and drawing herself back into his side. She hopes he doesn't mind. It keeps up the appearance of a date, though she likes it for more personal, selfish reasons. ]
No, no, Wendy's is for midnight snacks, after we go dancing. I'm gonna need a whole tower of pancakes after all that excitement. There is gonna be dancing, right?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ She liked that part of him that hadn't been trying to impress anyone. The little nerd who read Tolkien and was delighted by (barely) flying cars. The way he looked after his family and doted on his sister. How he believed in Steph when she couldn't believe in herself, even helping her get into art school. Was it any surprise she'd followed him into the war? ]
It wouldn't have changed anything. At least now you get the new me. [ Still broken, just in a different way. But maybe in a way he understands. ] You don't gotta worry about me dying anymore. And I'm really pretty now.
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I'm surprised you can still fit your head through the door.
( he always thought she was pretty—devastatingly so, even back then in brooklyn when she'd swear he was lying through his teeth. he remembers dragging her out to all the funfairs and the small parties in town, telling her she looked fine, and getting that famous rogers stink-eye in return. she was never convinced. but he never stopped trying; he couldn't stand the thought of her cooping herself up, especially after her ma passed. )
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It's really weird how they got all kinda stuff about us. They make the history books look tame in comparison.
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What are they saying?
( he doesn't read those magazines or the tabloids. he did go to the museum though. once. but after steph's supposed death, he'd avoided the place like the plague. the thought of hearing strangers talk about his best friend—his gone best friend—seems like it'd be too much. )
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[ There were many other takes, but those were some of the most annoying and amusing. The other Avengers had been happy to provide her the cliff notes of everything they'd read and learned, including the memes. ]
You've seen the musical? They gave us a whole love song and everything.
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( only thing he's been catching up on is the news. )
Sam did show me some fan art though. Back when he was trying to explain to me what a ship meant.
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Don't look into the fanart, you're gonna regret it.
[ There are NSFW ones, and kinky NSFW ones, and also Steph shipped with practically all of the Avengers because some people are weird like that. ]
What time tomorrow?
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6? 8?
( too early? too late? why is he unsure? why is this so difficult? usually, he'd just show up at whatever ungodly hour with a bag of takeout and that's that. but this... this is different. they're crossing a line. this is a date. a real first date. is everything about to change? or... everything already has. )
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[ She'd suggest that he just come over at whatever hour with takeout, but it feels weird now that they're talking about a date and not just platonically hanging out. She doesn't want him to think she's propositioning him or anything. ]
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( if this is a date—and it damn well is—he wants to do it right. they'd missed too many chances for a normal beginning. someday, he wants them to look back and say they'd at least tried to do it the right way. )
I'll pick you up at six. ( a statement of fact this time. no room for argument. ) Put on a dress. I'll take you somewhere nice.
( he already has the beginnings of a plan formulating in his mind. a favor he can call in from a guy who knows a guy—some exclusive place in the city that requires reservations months in advance. getting a table last-minute is a power move he rarely bothers with. but for her? hell, why not go all out. )
no subject
[ She has a nice dress in the fashion of their time that's been collecting dust in her closet as she'd been saving it for a special occasion. Guess this calls for it. And though she hasn't done so in a while, she decides to style her hair too. It's nothing like the curls she used to favor before the serum — as did all the ladies back then — but it's enough of an effort for a date.
They really are going on a date. She still can't quite believe it.
She has a hearty snack before pick up time though; the last thing she wants to do is stuff her face while they're "somewhere nice", both because that'll be such a turn off, and because she doesn't want him to spend more than he has to, with how ridiculously expensive New York restaurants are these days. Damn supersoldier metabolism.
And while there shouldn't be any danger... she slips a handgun into a thigh holster anyway, as well as a knife disguised as a tube of mascara into her handbag. She doesn't trust their luck, not with the way their lives have gone. ]
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he is ten minutes early. his boots are quiet on the apartment stairs. normally, he'd just knock, but tonight has rules. he forces himself to slow down, pausing on the landing to draw a steadying breath. the nervous flutter in his gut is ridiculous. it's just steph. you've known her your whole life. what are you so afraid of?
screwing it all up. the thought is a cold splash of water. oh, no. no. he shoves it down hard. no second-guessing. he is here. she is in there. they are doing this.
he clears his throat, his gaze dropping to the small bouquet in his hand. sunflowers. he'd even asked the florist for the water-in-a-cotton-swab trick so they'd survive if she decides to just chuck them on the table. no pressure.
a practiced, easy smile settles on his face. he knocks. and waits. )
no subject
Hey— oh, wow.
[ She's no longer clad in her attention-grabbing blue suit with a giant star, but there's no way she's not standing out in contrast to his tactical blacks. Her blonde hair is a bright halo around her face, her red dress a warning sign. It's better this way though; since the serum their roles had been reversed, as she'd been shoved into the spotlight while he disappeared into the shadows. Sometimes she wonders if he ever resented her for it.
Right now, though, she's smiling, a little dumbstruck by how nice he looks. Then she smoothens her skirt self-consciously. ]
Need to come in for anything before we go? Water? Bathroom break?
[ That's probably not date etiquette, but he's still her best friend first of all. She wants him to enjoy this even if things don't work out. ]
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Hi. ( his voice is softer than he'd intended. the habit is too strong to break; bucky steps forward and draws her into their usual hug. but the familiarity ends there. the scent of her perfume is new, intoxicating, and the solid beat of his heart kicks up a notch against his ribs. he holds her for a second longer than usual before leaning back, the bouquet appearing in his hand as if from nowhere. )
For you. ( he offers the flowers, his eyes never leaving hers. ) You look... incredible. ( a faint, self-deprecating smirk touches his lips as he glances down at his own outfit. ) Might have to up my game next time. ( but he catches himself, his tone shifting back to earnest reassurance. ) Not that I'm saying you're not perfectly dressed for where we're going. You are. ( he gives a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head then, a silent command to stop talking before he says too much. )
no subject
And though she's been complimented on her appearance many times before, since the serum anyway, now she blushes. It darkens when she hears next time. He'd said might, too, so nothing's guaranteed, but the fact that he isn't entirely dismissing the possibility of a second date is more than she can ask for. ]
Are you kidding? You look great. I'm gonna have to fight off everyone who tries to steal you tonight. [ She jokes, but she's willing to bet it'll happen, or at least the flirting part. Or maybe he'll realize halfway that they really are better off as friends and he'll leave with someone else.
Stop catastrophizing, Stephanie. But she supposes it's easier to brace for the worst. It doesn't hurt as bad when you're already hurting.
Since he doesn't say he needs to come in, she locks the door behind her then steps close to hook her arm around his. Like the hug, it's not supposed to be new, but it feels like it is anyway. ]
Do I get a hint where we're going?
[ If he found a place that has dancing — that isn't a club — she'll be impressed. She's ready for that now, too. She hadn't done a lot of dancing growing up since her lungs could barely keep up, but she has no such issues anymore, and she'd had plenty of dance practice during her USO days. The chorus girls had taught her several dances. Including some sexy ones. ]
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You remember that place we passed after we went shopping for your art stuff? ( the one she'd pointed out when she thought he wasn't really listening. he'd shrugged it off, muttering that it looked like a lot of effort for a meal, even if some big-shot chef was cooking. but he remembers. top-notch, impossible to get into, with a space for dancing in the middle. classy. )
Well, I was able to get us a table. ( he braces himself, half-expecting a playful smack to the arm for keeping it a secret. but look at her—she is dressed for it perfectly. and his blazer, he'd been firmly told by his contact, is perfectly appropriate. )
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The restaurant choice slams that point home. ]
For real? Oh, wow.
[ She stares down at the flowers in her hand. High-end places aren't her style, not even after everything she's been through and the fact that she's pretty much a celebrity in her own right. But her silence isn't from discomfort or disapproval. Rather, it's because: ] You didn't have to go through all that trouble for me, Buck. I ain't worth it.
[ Fuck, she's really terrible at dating, isn't she? The night hasn't even started and she's already messing things up.
She desperately tries to remedy the situation by quickly adding: ] You didn't have to sell your arm for that reservation, did you? I'd sell the shield, but I'd have to get it back from Sam first.
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A guy I know owes me a favor. Everything's on the house.
( the only thing that cost him is the bouquet of flower he'd bought her. a cheap date, by any measure. the last thing he wants is for her to think this is a burden. as the elevator doors slide open, he gestures for her to go first. )
But if you'd be more comfortable at a Wendy's, just say the word. I hear the Baconator's a national treasure.
no subject
And let this go to waste?
[ She elbows him lightly on the ribs once he comes up next to her — this referring to his outfit — before snaking her arm around his and drawing herself back into his side. She hopes he doesn't mind. It keeps up the appearance of a date, though she likes it for more personal, selfish reasons. ]
No, no, Wendy's is for midnight snacks, after we go dancing. I'm gonna need a whole tower of pancakes after all that excitement. There is gonna be dancing, right?