|
  |
Light spills through the tiny window just after dawn from up in the corner of the unfurnished room. There was literally nowhere to go last night. They could have gone to Jack's, but Steve was worried that whoever attacked them would just go there, or worse, bring more. A hotel made some sense, but the worry about being systematically found in some way was enough cause for fear that Steve believed they needed to lay low. Like as low as possible.
A few weeks ago, Mario Ambrosini asked Steve to sign a few pictures for him to put on the wall. The latter obliged and, when prodded, didn't ask for any money in return. The large man from Sicily told Rogers that if he ever needed anything, to just ask. So when, Steve brought Jack over to Mario's house, right next door to the restaurant, the business owner explained that he had a bedroom under the restaurant that was used when he and Francesca first started the place up.
Steve's eyes flit open and he tenses for a split second, before going easy. He had no idea where he was for a moment there, but can rest a bit more as things come back to him.
*
The light and the motion of Steve's body, even in that tensions, is enough to cause the waif brunette to stir. She rolls over on her side — and directly into Steve, causing her eyes to open wide for a moment… and then relax. Right. So that wasn't just a bad dream. She clears her throat lightly before rolling back onto her back, and sliding her hands beneath her to bring herself to a sitting position. Carefully, silently, she draws her knees towards her chest, and scrubs her face with her palms.
Everything about her feels small as her arms drift around her legs, hugging knees into a near fetal position as her chin drops downwards. But even in that moment, she banishes her more base instinct. She lifts her head and unfurls herself, forcing herself to her feet to trail to the window to peek out it. There's something reassuring about that little bit of anonymity, and somehow, the warmth of the sun grants an odd confidence.
*
They seemed to have slept in long enough for the rest of the world to keep moving. Surprising as it might be, cars still line the road up on street level. The assumption is that they must be stopped at a stop light. It's tough to tell because dozens of legs cross her view as they are visible, up to the knee, and in motion going wherever it is that they need to be going.
"Are you okay?" Steve asks, as he pushes himself up to a seated position on the bed.
*
The question is met with silence a few beats, almost like she hasn't heard him speak. Her dark eyes stare at the legs that mill about the street, without really processing the motion. It's strange how the world carries on. When probably too much time has passed, she twists back to face him. Pensively, unsure, and altogether timid, her voice comes out in a quiet whisper of complete honesty, "I don't know."
The words are followed by a ghost of a smile as she trails back towards the bed. She stands in front of him and tries to meet his gaze. She lifts a hand to graze her fingertips across his cheek. "Are you?"
*
"Just happy you're alright," Steve says absently as he looks up at her. "You get used to it," he says ominously, just as a forceful knock on the outside door beats down at them. He rests his hand on her side and gets to his feet, shrugging into the white shirt he was wearing underneath his outfit, and goes to open the door.
"Steve," Mario says with a thick accent. "I brought you and the gal some breakf—Hello!" Mario says as he looks down the steps at Jack and waves. "I brought you and the gal some breakfast and some tooth brushes and tooth paste. Lil care package from Francesca."
"Thanks, Mario."
"Anytime."
The portly man gives Jack a wink and then heads upstairs just after handing Steve a couple of bags.
*
Jack rubs the back of her neck and manages a smile at the greeting. Her free hand lifts and she manages a very small waggle of fingers towards Mario. "Thank you," she echoes before he disappears, and her attention redirects to Steve. Even with Steve's hands full, she slides up to him to wrap her arms around him tightly.
She hums softly and exhales another long sigh. She's still processing the events of the last twenty-four hours. "So…" she attempts to pull her thoughts together, "…I take it you think whoever she was isn't likely to give up…" Her lips hitch up on one side. "Do you think my roommates are okay? I should call them, maybe. Liv and Max are capable, but it would be good if… I mean, I was the one that lectured them about making home safe after one of them basically invited a merry band of mutants to break in…"
*
"I think they probably will be. To go after you is one thing. To follow you and go after your roommates seems to be one step too far. A call would probably be wise, though," Steve says as reaches around her with the bags in his hands and holds her.
"You should eat. We have a lot of work to do today."
*
Jack's head cants to the side — the effect of which is akin to a puzzled puppy — and she lifts a single wry eyebrow. "And what kind of work is that?" There's just an air of mischief in the question as she takes a single step backwards to draw the bag of breakfast away from him.
Two egg sandwiches wrapped in foils are produced, one of which she offers back to Steve.
*
"We're going to the gym. You're going to start learning how to fight," Steve says as he looks to her with a bit of pain in his face. "I can't allow you to get hurt because of me. I'm going to teach you how to fight, how to use your size for speed, and how to use a gun." He reaches for the sandwich and smiles softly, "Thank you."
*
Jack squints and cringes slightly at the assertion. "I … really?" she frowns. "I'm not… I'm in insurance, Steve. Insurance. I'm an insurance adjuster. I don't… I haven't…" her hand presses to her forehead. "I'm supposed to just calculate statistics like the desk jockey I am. And it's not that I don't know how to use a gun. I'm terrible at it." She unwraps the sandwich, "Is this…" her eyes lid lightly "…likely to be a regular thing? I just. I need to know."
*
Steve sighs and looks downward at the bed. Now it's his turn to wait too long to respond. He gives a backwards flick to his sandwich which lands on the tin foil it was wrapped in. Then comes an exhale, before he looks up at her.
"I want to believe it won't, but that would be naive."
*
Dark eyes flit open at the words, and Jack nods once in silence. The thought weights on each of her muscles, but not nearly as heavily as it weighs on her mind. She emits a quiet exhale amid the tension in her body, a silent will to find some semblance of sense amongst the cogs of her mind calculating some unknown odds ratio in its depth. Her lips purse and her fingers tighten around the sandwich. Silently, she trails over to the bed and sits on its edge as she sets the sandwich beside her. She nods again, still silent, but perhaps more convinced. And then, she manages a single word, drawn-out but still there: "Oh-kay." Her chin drops again. "We'll go to the gym," there's just a hint of resignation in her voice.
*
"Jack, the alternative is for me to go to the press and try and get them to run a story on how you and I broke up." Steve sighs, "That would probably be the safer route. But even then, I can't guarantee your safety."
His tongue comes out and he licks his lower lip with a sad look on his face, "I'm so sorry I brought you into this."
*
Jack stares at Steve at that and lifts a hand towards him, silently asking to back up the train of thought. "Wait. What." Oddly the what isn't a question. Are…" her eyebrows draw together sharply "…you breaking up with me?" She squints. "I'm not sorry. I mean… yeah, I'm not keen on having some crazy lady with weird weapons and fast fighting skills," she doesn't even have language to define Psylocke's fight style, "come after me, but I — " her cheeks hue pink. " — like spending time with you. I mean, this wasn't an ideal Friday night or an ideal Saturday morning, but at least I'm with you."
Her lips twist to the side, "The world is what it is. I mean, it's not like that weird lady would've come after me without you in my life, but Vlad," also known as Dracula, "definitely did."
"
*
Steve shakes his head back and forth vigorously, "No, absolutely not. I mean, I wanted to give you an out if you needed one. I wanted to keep you safe, but I don't really want to spend any more time without you than I have to."
"I just feel like if I taught you to defend yourself you'd be able to put up a fight. You'd have some confidence and maybe some reason for feeling more secure."
*
A sigh of relief follows the thought. "Good. I mean, yeah… good." Jack nods and shoots Steve a small smile. "I'm not going anywhere. Honestly, I'm already in this." She inhales a sharp breath at the notion of putting up a fight. "Yesterday I'm not sure how much that would've helped, but I definitely tried. Well… as best I could. Low skills there."
*
"Good," Steve says as he responds to her smile with one of his own. "You know in times like that, any skills can help out. We had her two on one; I think we'd have done better than you might think." With a bit more courage now, Steve picks his egg sandwich back up and is able to take a bite.
*
"Yeah, but she had weird invisible mystic ability. And where the heck did she keep getting blades from?! It's so confusing and brain-breaking!" Jack emphasizes as she takes a bite of her sandwich. She chews and swallows as her posture relaxes some. "When is it safe to go home? I just… should probably know because I mean… I can call into work sick if necessary, but eventually that'll be a problem."
*
"Let's give it a day or so." Thoughts about real life come back quickly to Steve as he realizes he's going to need to buy new things. And get a new apartment. He should really have gotten that insurance from Jack.
*
Jack chews on her bottom lip. "I'll tell Liv and Max that I'm staying away for a bit. Just don't want them to worry." She cringes slightly. "I'm happy to follow your lead on this, I seriously know nothing. Except statistics. A lot of statistics." Like the odds off someone breaking into your home.
*
"That's probably best for them," Steve says with a nod. "Once you start learning, I think you might actually like it. Physical strength and skill translates into a lot of confidence. I should know. Before the procedure, I was a little smaller than you."
+++++
THWACK! THWACK!
Steve moves to the left to inspect her form. "That's not bad," he remarks. "Keep both feet planted. Power in your hips."
*
Jack's feet root into the ground. Her hands are balled into two relatively loose fists, and she manages to find some semblance of strength in the twist. In starting the process, Steve likely came to know that Jack wasn't quite as defenseless as she'd let on; her dad had taught her to throw a punch if she ever needed to. Mind, that was where her training had begun and ended.
"It feels pretty good," she offers in reply as she lands another two hits against the punching bag, twisting at the hip as she does so. "I mean, it doesn't hurt…"
*
"Well, that's generally the idea," Steve says with a smile. He moves in behind her as she stands and reaches out to take her wrists on either side as he leans in closely to show her something. He lowers his voice, mostly to refrain from shouting in her ear. "After the punch, you gotta come right back. Don't drop your hands. You have to be immediate. "Punch," he says as he leads her in a slow motion punch, "And back." Her hand comes back into position in an efficient and quick way.
"
*
The motion wins Steve an easier smile, nearly conspiratorial at the change in the motion. "Right. I can see how that makes a difference." Her head turns slightly to catch his gaze — which isn't far at this close distance. The smile turns dimpled and her gaze drops for a moment with some unspoken thought, but it remains that way as she repeats the motion all on her own. "I take it this is what they teach you folks in the service?"
*
"Special forces training, after basic. In those days they just wanted to ship everyone out as quickly as possible in order to keep the assembly line going. I got set aside for extra training for obvious reasons," Steve explains as he lets her go. "Alright," he says, keeping up the quick training schedule. "Lines."
He steps up to a line and begins hopping back and forth at pretty incredible speed. "Footwork and quickness. Footwork and quickness," he repeats. "At your size you need to focus on being quicker than whoever is coming after you."
*
An amused eyebrow arches as Steve steps away from her space, and Jack's smile turns just a little timid. "Riiiiight," she manages long and drawn out at the mention of extra training. Her hands drop to her sides as she watches the change in instruction. "Wow. Alright. So… cardio then? Cardio is useful for everything it seems," her smile takes on a nearly feline edge… not that Steve will notice.
*
Steve finally notices the change in her demeanor, but he is unable to parse what it means. Her look, then her smile. "Is everything alright?" he asks, not even sounding as though he's breathing hard, yet. His blue eyes trail up to the clock in order to gauge how much time on the full two minutes they have.
*
The lopsided quirk of Jack's lips that follows the question has its own comical edge. She takes a single step towards him and pushes onto her tiptoes in a futile effort to bring him to eye-level. "I'm flirting with you." She actually grins at that as her cheeks flush brighter. "I kind of… liked your arms around me showing me how to hit." In short, "Captain Rogers, you turn a girl's head."
*
Steve stops immediately, blushes, and then moves to kiss her. "Well, you know how you said you're not that good at fighting? I'm not that good at picking those sorts of things up." Pause. "Sorry."
*
The kiss is readily returned, and Jack's grin brightens. "Right. But we can both learn," she offers easily with a small shrug of her shoulders. "I'm sure it's a huge surprise, but your girlfriend likes being close to you." She winks. "No reason to apologize. Honest. Just…" her cheeks redden further. "Well." She shrugs.
*
Cue a devilish grin on Steve's mouth, now. "Well, what?" If anyone were listening, this would be a lot like a seventh grade conversation. "I like being close to her too," he says.
*
Steve has partially disconnected.
*
"Welllllll," the word is long and drawn out as Jack's eyes turn upwards as her arms reach around Steve's neck. She takes another step into his space, closing any remaining distance between them. She presses up to her tiptoes again, squeezes her eyes shut, and crushes her lips against his. It's a completely un-chaste kiss. Some moments later, she returns to flat feet, and innocently looks up at him. "Well," she begins again, "sometimes it's just hard to read your thoughts. And whether you appreciate or want my…" her lips twist to the side as she tries to select the right word, "…advances."
*
Steve pushes his head against hers as he looks down at her nose, "Of course I do. I'm crazy about you. I just don't really know how to show it. To be honest, the first girl I ever kissed, I kissed once. I didn't have a whole lot of luck with ladies before the war."
"I'm not trying to hurt you or make you feel unwanted. It's not like that at all."
*
A small smile, soft and reassuring tugs at Jack's lips, "It's not… I'm not hurt. I just… get confused sometimes. That's all." Her smile eases some. "Sometimes it's hard to know what's going on in your head. You're a perfect gentleman. And I love that, just sometimes I feel like maybe it'd be good if you were a little less of a gentleman… sometimes."
*
"Well," Steve says as he tilts his head. "I guess I can be less of a gentleman. He lifts her up promptly and begins to carry her back through the gym and towards the locker room as he locks lips with her.