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It's been a long day.
Steve has been trying to figure out more information about the laser sharks, doing some intel work for his friends at the Department of Defense, doing his best to have some sort of life, and also making an attempt to get a proper workout in. At the refrigerator he gives a weary sigh and opens it up. He reaches for one of the bottles of beer as he tries to think about what he will make for dinner.
Bobbi came into the room with that quick step that was so uniquely her's, a white tank-top and pair of sweats completed the look of her workout clothes. She was sweaty, her hair tied back and breathing slightly harder she went for a glass and filled it with water. A pause, following as she downed the first glass and grabbed another.
"Hey Rogers," She nodded to him, leaning back against the counter as her breathing slowed. "What's up?"
"Not much, bout to cook some dinner I think," Steve says as he gives her a curt smile and a nod. "Think tonight is a chicken night. What about you?" He reaches back into the refrigerator to pull out some of the food that's earmarked for him (it doesn't appear anyone has taken it this time, which is a plus).
"I dunno, I can't cook to save my life. Unless you count calling in an order for whatever greasy spoon is down the street." She flashed him a grin, and put her dirty glass in the sink. A sigh followed, "Just got through a late work out. I had some errands to run this morning that were a pain in the ass, but .. hey, such is life." She shrugged.
"I was thinking about going to the burger joint down the road."
"Nice. Which one? I haven't found a good spot yet." Steve unwraps the cellophane from the package of chicken as he's clearly ruminating on something. "Listen, I just want to apologize to you for asking you out when you were with someone. I talked to Bucky and he let me know. Obviously, had I known that, I wouldn't have done something like that. Hope it didn't cause you any problems."
A shrug, "I forget the name, it just opened up, thought I'd check it out." She trailed off as Steve moves to work on his cooking, and leaned back against the countertop. As Steve apologizes she groaned, and dragged a hand through her face.
"See this is what I get for chatting with the bar tender and not reporting him to Shield." It was a lame attempt at a joke, but there it was. Bobbi grimaced, settling her arms in a crossed position in front of her. "Listen Steve.. I have always though you were a great guy. And had you asked me out a few weeks ago, I'd have quite happily said yes. It's not your fault you didn't know.. because we haven't told anyone. It's just that whole spy thing. We don't 'date' exactly."
"Yeah, that totally makes sense. I just didn't want you to take any flak about it or anything," Steve says with a nod. "How did Bucky seem to you? I think he's seeming pretty good. I don't want to say cured, but I'm optimistic."
Bobbi inclined her head, "Yeah, he looks pretty good. But I've seen him shift from 'pretty good' to punching my lights out within a week so I'm not holding my breath till Carol and I can track down a telepath. I remember vaguely seeing some reports that there was one that was trying to work with Shield before." Skrull Peggy had with Charles Xavier before, and Bobbi had looked through her reports and notes when she'd died.
"It's better to figure out what's going on up there before promising to find someone willing to make a deal with him. We don't know if it's a trap or some sleeper agent thing or what."
Steve nods, "I think you're probably right to be cautious. On the other hand, you got to figure if the Russians wanted someone inside SHIELD, Bucky Barnes is probably the last guy in the world they should send." He begins to warm up one of the frying pans and begins to look for flour. "How are things going over at SHIELD anyhow?"
Bobbi glanced over as he grabbed the frying pans and started working on cooking. "There are better ways to inflitrate SHIELD, that's fair. Unless he's less of a bug and more of a bomb. I mean, the guy can do a ton of damage when he's not in the right mind set. Besides, at least if we can find someone that's a telepath maybe they can figure out how to keep him stable." And she'd had the broken bones to prove it. She idly went to the fridge, pulling out a yogurt and then grabbing a spoon to snack on.
"SHIELD has been.. well, basically what you can expect. Quieter without a lot of the older folks around. A lot of people took off after the whole 'invasion of the body snatchers' had been settled." She'd almost been one of those.
"It's why I was able to take up work over here. Otherwise I'd likely be shoved down some undercover mission in Europe or somewhere."
"Well, their loss is our gain, that much is sure," Steve says with a chuckle. "But you're right, they had a tough run of things back then. Hopefully things will settle down, but the more time we're able to use your skills the better, selfishly." Flour, a couple of eggs, and before you know it, Steve is frying up some chicken. "You from New York originally?"
Bobbi flashed Steve a smile over the rim of her yogurt cup in a mock cheers gesture. "Hey, someone's gotta make sure that there's a decent amount of gossip to keep everyone entertained. How else is a spy supposed to get information?" She dipped her spoon into the yogurt, looking over the frying pan. "Damn, well, that smells great."
Then her focus shifted back to his question. "Nope. West Coast, actually. This is probably the longest I've spent on the East Coast in my entire life."
"You're welcome to some if you want. I didn't really plan much in the way of sides, I'm afraid. I'm kind of simple like that," Steve says with a shrug. The nice part about frying is that it doesn't take too particularly long. "West Coast? You a California gal?"
Bobbi glanced up from her curious glance over the pan fried chicken, "Yeah, why not. Beats my burger joint plans. And then I don't have to worry about taking a shower before I get something to eat. Sounds like a win to me." She finished off her yogurt, throwing the empty container into the trash. The spoon too went into the sink where the glass sat.
"But yeah, I was from California. Grew up just as obessed with math and science as the next girl."
"You have a bit of that California style to you," Steve says with a faint chuckle as two chicken pieces sizzle away. "I was always into art and reading. Math and science were never my things."
A shrug, and Bobbi glanced down at her tank top and sweats. "Well whatever style that is, I think it's buried underneath a good amount of sweat." She joked, and tilted her head she considered him. "Oh yeah? Art and reading? You didn't strike me as that kinda guy. I dunno. I guess that makes sense." She leaned back against the counter, folding her arms again.
"I like math and science because.. well, there's mysteries and they need to be solved. And there's an answer at the end of it all. Art? Literature? Eh. That's all subjective."
"That's why I like it," Steve says as he flips over the chicken revealing a golden brown half that has been under oil. "Someone once told me that Math and Science are what make the world work and that English and Social Studies are what make us human. I think art just makes people poor."
The blond inhaled the wafting scent of cooked chicken and considered Steve's words. "Well. I guess that person must've been a fan of writing and poetry because that sounds awful poetic." Bobbi grinned and shrugged. "I like Math and Science because they have they help explain the world and how everything fits together. I guess. Also, when I was a kid, I was convinced, absolutely convinced.. that I could be come a super hero and get powers if I just got into the right lab accident. I broke my arm a dozen times trying to get it x-rayed on purpose in hopes the radiation might give me powers." She laughed faintly at the memory.
Steve laughs out loud at the thought of a young Bobbi intentionally hurting herself. But there's a recognition in that laugh—had he had the idea, that very much could have been Steve Rogers as a young man, too. "And now look: you get to hang out with powered people every day."
Bobbi grinned, and exhaled an amused breath. "Yeah, well, still no powers." She wiggled her fingers and shrugged. "Just still me, plain human. Not that I'm complaining overly. I enjoy my job and I enjoy getting to play around in the lab whenever I've got the time. Even if the science is now more of a hobby that I dip into every now and then."
"Who knows, maybe I'll have a lab accident and gain awesome powers someday."
"If I ever happen to find any more of that serum I got, I'll do my best to get a little some for you," Steve replies as he reaches for the tongs to check the chicken. /Almost/. He exhales, thinking poorly on himself that he hasn't thought of something besides fried chicken to have with it. It didn't seem so bad when it was just him. He goes to the refrigerator again and winces. "Not a lot of options for a side in here. I got broccoli? Carrots?"
Bobbi laughed at that, "I was on a project to recreate that when I first got hired on for SHIELD, actually." She scratched the back of her neck, "Almost got something that could've worked. One thing led to another and well, that sample got lost. Destroyed.. One of the two. Either way, it got scrapped." She muttered and glancing side long at Steve. Oh he was a biological marvel and the scientist in her ached to play around with lab samples.
As Steve lamented the lack of sides she shook her head and flashed him a grin. "Chicken sounds great on its own, don't worry about it. I eat like crap when I'm on missions. Surveillance means sitting still in a car for forty hours and eating nothing but chips and whatever else I have stashed in the backseat."
Steve chuckles a bit at the idea of Bobbi on stakeout, but then a pang of sadness hits at his insides remembering the last time he was on a stakeout. "I wonder how many of those programs were out there, really. I have heard there were a lot." He sits in front of the refrigerator before finally pulling out some broccoli. "You don't have to eat it, but my mother would have been upset with me if I didn't at least offer a vegetable."
Bobbi shrugged, "At least two dozen attempts here in America. Private business and government alike. No one has come particularly close save our SHIELD program. It helps considering who we've had to work with. Granted, that's all guess work at best. Never got to actually test it to see." A glance was spared back in Steve's direction and Bobbi hooked an eyebrow upwards.
"I'll eat the dreaded green. You can rest easy knowing my diet tonight will include at least one vegetable." She murmured in mock seriousness.
"Old Mrs. Rogers would be proud," Steve replies as he starts to break off pieces of the broccoli. Looks like they're going to have to eat it raw. The chicken is also done at this point and Steve grabs for some plates. "Dr. Erskine could have done a lot of great things for this country. Everytime I think about it it makes me sick."
Bobbi rummaged for some clean forks, finding some and passing one to Steve as he broke out the plates. "I'll turn over a new leaf," She punned, and flashed Steve a grin. As he spoke about Dr. Erskine she pursed her lips together some of her cheer fading.
She sighed, "Maybe you're meant to be the only super soldier out there, Steve. I mean, once someone cracks the formula, it's going to be a mad rush for other countries to get it. To have their own versions. And not everyone that would get it, would be a good guy either." She shrugged and glanced back to him.
Steve shrugs his shoulders, "To be honest I don't even really feel like I should have been the one to get it. There were a lot of good guys in that group." He thinks back to those days. "I was actually Erskine's second patient. His first came before he was able to flee to America during the war. We knew him by his code name, Red Skull, but from what I gathered he was called Johann Schmidt. Nazi and Hydra type. Glad he's not around anymore."
Bobbi glanced up at him, she'd read the files, of course she had read the files. She'd been hired on as part of the replacement project, but it was different to hear him say it. He'd lived it, after all. She instead nodded once, before she considered him again. "I dunno, based on what Barnes said.. you were pretty righteous and looking to stand up for what you believed in even when you were a kid." She grinned his way.
"He said he had to get you out of trouble quite a few times."
"Barnes says a lot. He's kind of biased. We've been friends since we were kids and would do anything for each other." Steve finishes preparing Bobbi's plate and slides it towards her before he fixes his own. "I wouldn't trust what he has to say when I'm the topic."
Bobbi laughed softly, picking up the plate. "Ah so, basically brothers, I take it? Because that would explain how I got the impression that the man was ready to throw down if your good name was so much as wrinkled slightly." She tilted her head, cutting into the chicken with her fork's edge and taking a taste.
"Oh, damn, this is good. Thanks for cooking." She shot him a grin and settled back against the counter. She could go to the table, but conversation was easier while he worked on plating his own food.
Steve makes a face that says he's a bit embarrassed by Bucky sticking up for him. "What did he say? And what was the topic of conversation that led to my good name being wrinkled?" he asks. Before she answers he takes a bite of the chicken to try it and seems satisfied. to some extent.
Bobbi fought off the urge to laugh as he makes a face and she shakes her head, shooting him a look instead. "Oh something about you being too good for this world. Pretty sure the term 'Saint Steve' came up." She teased, was she being a bit over the top? Maybe. It was hard to tell with the amusement in her eyes.
"And I merely said that I got the impression if." She bit into another chunk of the chicken as she leaned against the counter. "And given that you know I'm in some kind of a relationship, I'm gonna hedge a guess and say that he told you about it. And there, I rest my case."
"He over-inflates when it comes to me," Steve says as he shakes his head. "Saint Steve. That's a new one." He chuckles a bit before nodding, "Yeah, all he said was basically a heads up that you were in something serious. That's all he really said about it and we ended up talking about something else really. I just felt bad…If that were my girlfriend being asked out I can see why that might be uncomfortable."
Bobbi grinned at Steve as he laughed about Saint Steve being a new one. "Well boy scout is kinda worn out, yeah? So now you've been upgraded." She considered him again and sighed faintly. "Clint and I both understand that our relationship isn't exactly.. traditional. He doesn't care that you tried to ask me out. He's been out of the country on mission." She murmured, glancing back to Steve.
"And in our line of work, we understand that we can't exactly advertise we're taken either." She waved her fingers in the air. "No wedding rings for spies unless you're under cover. There's always a chance that I'll have to play someone's wife, or fiance. With everything that entails."
Steve nearly chokes on his chicken as she gets to the important part midswallow. He coughs a few times as he tries to parse all of this out. "Wait. You're /married/? To /Clint?/ Oh, this just got one hundred times more awkward."
Bobbi flashed Steve a sympathetic look, "Breathe, need some water?" She asked in a deadpan tone. Her expression looking a little dry as Steve mentioned everything was by far more awkward now.
"He doesn't wear a ring either, Steve. It's for safety. I mean again, spy.. Don't feel too terribly about it. We haven't … exactly told anyone."
"Oh man, I could die," Steve says as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He gives the embarrassment a few more moments, but then moves past it with a couple of shakes of his head. "Suppose it's good he's a good sport about it."
Bobbi flashed Steve a weak smile, "Hey, that's the opposite of what I said to do." She picked at her chicken and then glanced back his way, grimacing faintly. "He'd have to be, just as much as I have to be. Again, job description. He might have to go under cover for years. I might have to do the same. It's one reason why dating doesn't happen." She pursed her lips together.
The fact that Clint had asked if she'd taken any jobs with 'partners' when they'd first met up again? Bobbi really should've known that perhaps Clint wasn't so chill with everything that their jobs entailed.
"Yeah, I can imagine things are tough in your line of work. I was talking with a girl who worked in the CIA and she let on to some of the things that went on and the sacrifices she had to make for her job. It was shocking, really." Steve cuts up the last slice of chicken and downs it easily.
Bobbi nodded, "I was gone in undercover in Germany for a few years actually, no contact with the States whatsoever. If I had boyfriend over here? Never would've worked. Sometimes I have to go on missions where Bobbi Morse simply ceases to exist until it's safe again and I'm off mission. I've had to get engaged to some guy before to get close enough to him for the mission." She scratched the back of her head, and finished off her own plate.
She paused and went to the sink, starting to grab the dirty pan and in her way, offering to do the dishes. "And it's possible that someday I just might not come back from one of those missions.. And that's just a fact of my life. It's hard. But I chose it. And so did Clint. Which is why I guess we agreed to give this a try at all. That or the high of coming off of a combat mission and not dying, but you know. One of those." She flashed Steve a smile, even if it was sympathetic in nature.
"Give me your plate, I've got it."
"Thanks," Steve says. "I appreciate it." He lings by and folds his arms as he leans against the counter. "Well, either way, I'm happy for you. He's a lucky guy and I think that you both being in your line of work makes it easier on the both of you. "