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It wasn't a date, right? He was just getting her out of the house, showing her the park, the way things have changed in the last few years. She needed the fresh air and so, begrudingly, Sharon Carter agreed to take a walk. Ten minutes into it, her eyes staring about almost a bit jumpy, she's going stir crazy. There is clearly a part of her that has no clue how to simply be normal, even as she walks in nothing but a casual pair of curve hugging jeans and an oversized shirt. It probably conceals a lot of weapons. "…You know what I see when I look around here?" She cuts into the silence, her voice barely louder than a murmur between them. Then she starts pointing out. "Those are the two best sniping positions in this 300 yards… You could probably disappear into shadow under that bridge in full daylight, and this path is the only one that is open enough to ensure we're not being followed."
*
Steve chuckles a bit as he jabs his hands in his pockets. "I remember when I first came back, I was still in war mode. Everywhere I looked was an enemy. Analyzed everything. Always on guard. You get better." He shrugs. "Or at least you get used to it."
*
The woman walks close enough to him that if either of them take a slightly wrong step, their shoulders touch. She *trusts* him, and that's a huge step in the right direction. There's also something Sharon that's clearly craving human contact even if she's never actually voiced it. Such things are weakness. But she walks close, letting his scent on the air get through to her a little. "…How long did it take? How long were you…over there? Germany, right?"
*
"Took about 10 months, really," Steve says with a chuckle. "But it gets better everyday." He tilts his head as he tries to think, "I went over right away in 1941 and fell in the drink in 1945 so four years. For everyone the war has been over for years, but for me it was hard because it felt like yesterday when I first got out. I mean, we already fought another war while I was sleeping."
*
"Yeah. And another one is coming. I'd be shocked if we weren't fully in Vietnam within six months. Probably closer to three." Sharon murmurs quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. The thought of that place has her brain fully back there. At least she's not jumping at ghosts. Not right now.
*
"I really hope not. What I learned in Germany was that I would give anything for people to talk things out reasonably." Steve pauses, "Then I got to the concentration camps and I knew that would never have been an option with the Nazis."
*
"No… and not with that government either. Trust me. I wrote those reports… Took one guy out but they put two more zealots in his place.." Sharon admits quietly, all too casually admitting to the assassination, but that was war and he's been there. She trusts him. She stares off into the long shadows of the night, as the evening grows heavier. She's only half with him right now.
*
"Well, I will worry about the worst and pray for the best," Steve says as he looks around. The thought of another war worries him all the time. Vietnam is one thing. Pending nuclear war with the USSR seems like it trumps everything. Either way, it's dread in his gut that he doesn't care for.
*
Some part of Sharon has realized she's making him tense. She can read the stress on his face, that twisting in his stomach. She steps a bit closer and slips her arm through his, wrapping her taunt forearm around his grasp in a motion that might almost be considered romantic if it was anyone but them, "Hey…look at the upside… Vietnam won't come over here. The war will stay far away. And while the USSR makes a lot of threats, they can't and won't back them up. There's a reason I was transferred the first time. Though… maybe I'll ask to go back to East Europe…"
*
"Well, that's true. The war might not come over here, but even if we go over there, there will be a lot of good men dying. On both sides. The war didn't technically come to the United States in World War II, either," Steve responds. "Eastern Europe could be interesting. Dangerous."
*
"I was there once before. It was decided we needed someone in Vietnam and I volunteered. I wouldn't mind going back. I'm good at dangerous… It… Keeps me sane." Sharon admits with a tired, stir crazy little laugh. The sort of laugh that says she's not entirely sane here. She's trying, fighting it, but it's not easy.
*
"Someday your time overseas is going to end," Steve replies. "You're going to have to figure out how you're going to live a normal life." He has a lot of experience.
*
That makes her stop a moment, from their random, undirected strolling. Sharon lets go of his arm, pushing one hand back through her blonde hair and staring into the night a few moments. "I… don't really know if you go back to normal after that. Normal life… That's for other people. I sorta figured when you sign up the only way out is in a coffin. Made my peace with that."
*
"Well, then there's nothing that I can really tell ya. If that's who you are and that's what you want to be, the real tragedy is that you're here, Sharon," Steve says with a shrug of his shoulders. "That's a hell of a life to have."
*
"…Did *you* want to come back? To have a 'normal' life? Wouldn't you want to go back to it?" Sharon dares to ask him, turning around on the ball of her foot so she can fully face his tall, handsome figure. But she's never really gawked at him once. Well, not since that initial night. Her eyes meet his. That's all she cares about, that and the truth behind them.
*
"I did. I wanted to come back and live a normal life. With your aunt, to be honest. But life had a funny way of throwing me a curveball. An even odder one, given how things turned out." Steve shrugs his shoulders. "Now I split the difference. And I think I'm alright with that."
*
The comment about her Aunt draws a slightly skeptical, surprised brow. She smirks just a bit, "Yes, well… Everyone liked Peggy. She was pretty much perfect in every way. Hard for a girl to live up to… some of us have to choose." Field service or family. Sharon never thought about trying to do both, clearly, even if her Aunt quite managed it. "I'm glad you got to come back… to get… SOme semblance of a normal life. I just don't know how to do it. I don't know anyone here. I don't have a… job… a *point*."
*
"Well you will. And it'll be soon," Steve replies with a grin. "Even the Central Intelligence Agency is telling you you need to take a break and find a life. You should listen to them."
*
The woman's nose wrinkles a bit as he says that, but there is a momentary glimmer of almost amusement in her eyes. "I've been listening to them for ten years. WHat if I'm tired of listening and want to do my own thing?" Yes, that's definitely meant to be a joke, even if it's still pretty dead pan.
*
"Your own thing? In Eastern Europe? What are you going to do? Work in the People's factory making the People's boots?" Steve snickers.
*
That makes her roll her eyes and she actually POKES at his chest. Not an actual shove, but something teasing, if a bit rough. SHe's still 'one of the boys', so to speak. "Hey, I'd make a damn fine set of boots. Then I'd use them to sneak poison into some politico's inner circle. I'd take out the whole Russian dynasty using my boots of death. You never know."
*
"I don't, but I know if you're not working for the CIA and you do that, they don't call you an operative, they call you a terrorist," Steve says with a look. He doesn't even flinch when she pokes his chest. "Wouldn't wanna be one of those."
*
A bittersweet smile pulls at her neutrally pink mouth, fingertips lingering on his chest a moment or two before she lets her hand drop and just gives a casual little shrug, "Well then, I guess I need to stay working for the CIA. SHIELD won't take me back and, honestly, I don't know if I'd want to go back. I need… action in my life. Some sort. I sure as shit am not suzy home maker."
*
Steve laughs, "There's nothing wrong with being a home maker. There are plenty of homemakers all over this country doing their best to raise a family. That being said, if it's not what you want, you should never settle.
*
Steve Rogers has partially disconnected.
*
That comment gets a hard arch of her brow and a small tilt of her head. "Could you really see me doing that? I'd go crazy in a month." Sharon exhales quietly, finally forcing herself to look away from him. What was it about Steve Rogers that just brought the truth out of people? "…Sure, I mean… there are days I thought about a family. SOmetimes the thought that it could get better, you won't wake up alone some day… you'll leave a legacy… That's the only thing that brings you back. Keeps you going over there. But… I'm a spy, Steve… The risk alone to anyone…" She shakes her head.
*
Steve nods, "That makes a lot of sense. If you have a family, then there's someone to be hurt if you mess up." He chuckles, "In that even you just can't mess up." He pauses, then asks, "Do you always go through this when you get back from a mission?"
*
"…This is the first time I've come home for more than a day in eight years. So… I don't know." Sharon admits quietly. The look on her face says she doesn't quite see what is wrong with that. She's always had the stubborn Carter work spirit. But also, no wonder she's still so lost over there.
*
"Wow," Steve seems genuinely taken aback. "Eight years is twice as long as I was out there. It could be that we're comparing apples and oranges. I don't have any idea what it's like to be in your position. Well, mostly."
*
"Lonely. In the main… it's just… very lonely." Sharon admits quietly, once more the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it was. "But spies… we don't get units or back up. Just yourself, a few one time use pads, a radio and a lot ingenuity." Sharon gives a ghost of a smile at that last word and then she continues their slow walk, fingertips reaching to the back pocket of her jeans, searching for the rumpled pack of cigarettes she occasionally uses for distraction.
*
Steve nods and continues to walk along with her. "I can understand that. It's a long time to be out there on your own. But the alternative, of course, is creating attachments makes you have people who are hurt when you are gone."
*
"And who can be used against you, to hurt you. It puts them at risk too." Sharon echoes quietly into the night, walking slow enough that it's clear she's not trying to run away from him. She's just not watching him any longer. She's opened up enough tonight, he doesn't need to read the rest of it on her face.
*
"I can't tell if I think it's a better idea that you get an assignment right away, or if it's a better idea that you don't," Steve admits as he jams his hands in his pockets. "But you strikes me as being pretty miserable right now. You could try talking to someone. Professional, I mean."
*
A slight roll of her eyes, "I don't need a shrink. I ain't got shell shock or anything awful like that." Probably a lie, but one she's not realizing she's telling. "Seriously, it's not so bad. I'm just in a mood tonight. I don't know… Expected us to get jumped by some hoods making a bad decision by now. I'm restless." Sharon's trying to entirely shrug it off now, dismiss any thought that she could use help. Weak people got help. Not her. She is so stuck in the tough guy frame of mind.
*
"Hey, alright," Steve says, conceding defeat. "It was just a thought." He chuckles at the restless feeling Sharon feels. "I've been there. When I get restless I usually beat the tar out of a punching bag. A little exercise goes a long way."
*
The woman turns back to him, allowing a half smile to ghost across her face, "The walk is… nice… But, shit. Steve, I'm pretty shitty company for this regular stuff. You need to find yourself a nice girl in a pretty dress to do this with. I will take you up on heading back to the mansion and the punching bags, though…"
*
"I'm not sure another girl is what I need right now. Jack and I were pretty close. I'm not sure that putting all of that on someone is going to be the best idea," Steve admits. "So, I'll take you up on beating those punching bags."
*
"That sounds like the proper way to end a night." Sharon's eyes linger on him a bit longer, lips hovering on the edge of saying something more about Jack, but what can she really say? She has no clue. But she dares to reach out, taking his hand and giving it a small squeeze before she lets go and nods to the path, "Race you." Yes, he'll beat her ass all day, but the challenge is worth it. Then she takes off into the evening, back towards the northern, uptown side of the park and the way to the Mansion.