#so I started tinkering around with ship gifs and got in too deep

[scholastic-dragon]

Hello! I hope this finds you well!

I wanna tell you that your Rocket x Readers bring me so much comfort and that your writing is great!

I was listening to “Awesome Mix Vol. 1” and I came to the song “Fooled around and fell in love”, and I was wondering if I could make a request of Reader working on something (it could be a new weapon, or a little gadget, anything you choose) and she is listening to her brothers mix tap and that song is playing in the background and Rocket sees her working and singing along while swaying along to the song. Rocket and Reader have unspoken feelings for each other, and maybe they have an unspoken confession to singing this together near the end.

I thought this was a really cute idea, and I’m sorry if I didn’t explain it well enough. I also understand if you don’t want to do this.

But I wish you a good day/night/evening!

just watched Gotg and now im PUMPED

it is a personal hc of mine that rocket can sing beautifully given that mr bradley cooper can sing (he sang with lady gaga)

Some Unsung Thing

It was a slow day on Knowhere, things were finally starting to fall into place and everyone finding their roles on the old sentient head.

It was a slow morning, Rocket awoke to soft sunny weather shining through his curtains, rolling onto his back in no rush.

Mornings were his favorite, laying around in soft blankets, music playing quietly and a comforting silence he had come to really enjoy.

When his hunger got too much, he got to leisurely head downstairs and have breakfast with Groot and Cosmo.

But his favorite part of the day was just before noon, deep in the Milano's ship workspace. Quill had quite generously given the ship to you, his younger sister and most recent member to the Guardians family.

Without wasting a second, you had taken over the complete under carriage and turning it into your own personal "man cave" as you liked to call it.

It became an unspoken thing between you two, Rocket coming in to visit and you both simply tinkering in silence. You both had an appreciation for music and machines and found the company quite enjoyable.

His boots clunked down the metal stairs, echoing off the walls of his old home. He heard you before he saw you, humming and tapping your feet to the music playing from the back wall.

Stopping just outside the door he forced the smile off his face before leaning in and knocking on the door frame. Crossing his arms and leaning against the metal he gave you a curt nod, thankful he couldn't blush when you lifted your head and smiled.

No words needed to be said as you continued on your current project and Rocket went over to his respective table, moving around some loose odds and end to make you think he was working.

His pocket knife sat in the midst of the mess, his alibi for the last few weeks as to why he had been spending so much time in here.

At first it was an accident that he met you down here, he needed a tool to fix the dumb thing and caught you adding to your own blasters.

He was going to grab the tool and leave, but you insisted he stayed, after all, it had been his home only a few months ago.

Now Rocket thanked every morning that had you in it. You were so bright and optimistic, and smart and sarcastic.

You were intoxicating.

Rocket knew very early on that he cared about you, after all, you were his best friends sister, but there was always something more. Something he could never figure out. It drove him insane, he wanted to spend every moment of every day with you, but in your presence he stuttered and felt hot and couldn't keep his wits about him.

Which is what lead him here, now unable to say anything of actual value for a conversation, only looking at you through a reflection of sheet metal behind his table.

Gods, you were beautiful. Which is surprising given your brother.

Your hair in a loose bun, strands falling down around your ears and in front of your eyes. Your cute little focused pout, the way you angrily huff when you couldn't get the parts into the right places.

Flipping his knife between his fingers, he took a deep breath. He had to do something about this, he couldn't stand it...this deep ache in his chest whenever you were around.

As if the Milano were on his side, the next song was one of Peter's favorites. Fooled around and Fell in Love.

Rocket had heard it before, Quill played it a lot when he was in a sappy mood. But today it was different.

And in a cruel twist of fate, you started to sing along, tapping your foot on the ground and softly swaying in your chair. You weren't the best singer, but the way you smiled at the words, the way your eyes lit up made it all worth the while.

Rocket wasn't apposed to singing, alone at least, he'd done it in the shower dozens of times, but now the words were begging to be sung.

What were you doing to him? He slumped, finally sitting down on his stool, preparing to fake working.

He sighed, feeling his nerves get the better of him. Getting out one of his screwdrivers and untwisting the bolt on his pocket knife.

Around the middle of the song, you dropped the welder, it rolled off the table to the floor. You stopped your singing to bend down and get it, at the same time the song hit its instrumental part.

Rocket felt himself start to sweat, feeling a sudden burst of courage. The song continued and before he fully knew what was going on, he started to sing.

It was soft and quiet like yours had been, and he heard you stop your own words to listen to him. He saw your smile in the metallic reflection and his heart leapt as you started to sing along with him.

He didn't know what it meant, or what would happen next, but for the first time he truly felt happy and free from his feelings. He knew in that moment he didn't care what his future held so long as you were there.

The song ended and he inhaled sharply, hands loosely holding his pocket knife and screwdriver. He heart was pounding against his chest, he forced his eyes up into the reflective wall.

He gasped seeing you staring right back at him.

"Wanna do a duet?"

He laughed. He did, he really did.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Pheromones

Fandom: Mass Effect

Collection/Series: N/A

Pairing: Selene Shepard x Garrus Vakarian

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Rating: T - Suggestive themes but nothing NSFW

Warnings: N/A? I think (if i’m wrong let me know!)

Summary: Selene’s a little confused about something Javik says to her, she naturally asks her Turian boyfriend about it. 

Notes: Based off this conversation with Javik. I’ve never actually written Shakarian stuff in all my years of loving the ship. But, with Mass Effect: LE taking over my life, why not? 

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“So...Javik said something really...weird when I went to see him earlier.” 

It had been a long day; finding out Cerberus was turning people at Sanctuary into husks, seeing Miranda again, stopping her father from killing Oriana...it had taken a toll and then to come back and have a really bizarre conversation with their Prothean teammate? Well, Selene Shepard was glad to be back in a pair of yoga pants and a large jumper. 

If Selene was completely honest with herself she was exhausted. The war was taking its toll on her, all the responsibility that lay on her shoulders only seemed to be lightened by the support of her team and most importantly, Garrus. Her cybernetics had been bright and bold across her skin as of late, a sure sign that she was running out of steam. Despite the exhaustion, Javik's words weighed on her mind, confusing, curious and just a reminder of how alien he really was. 

Garrus came out of her, no, their shower, towel around his cowl, visor, no longer obscuring his face for once. God, it is so utterly domestic between the two of them now and something in her aches with the awareness that this might all be cut short, that domestic might never be a long term option for them. She hopes it will, hopes silently that they’ll get to retire somewhere, have a couple of kids, a varren or two, and life out their days into old age. 

“Weird? Weird to humans or...just weird?” The dual tone of his voice rings with curiosity. It had taken her two whole years of missions with him for her to actually get a good grasp on his subharmonics and even now there were things her weak human ears couldn’t quite pick up on, or even hear at all. 

She thought for a moment as Garrus sat down next to her on the bed, nuzzling his face between her shoulder and neck like he always did. It was something she’d taken as a turian sign of affection, the way his plates scratched at her skin and mandibles fluttered across her shoulder, she could only compare it to a human placing kisses down. A nuzzling that he never failed to do, whether they were standing and he had to bend over or they were sitting or lying down. 

Leaning into him with her eyes closed, she traces a hand across the plates on the back of his neck. “I...think it's just weird? He said he could tell we were ‘joined’ because of my...pheromones…” 

Garrus froze in his nuzzling, pulling back with his face plates drawn together, mandibles fluttering in confusion. “Well, yeah? I scent you all the time, been doing it since you agreed to be a one turian kind of woman. I thought...I mean I smell like you too…?”

“Scenting? I what?” Selene was decidedly confused, Garrus didn’t smell like her at all. In fact, the little scent that he had was of the more metallic and engine grease kind from spending all his time tinkering with things or modifying his sniper rifle. She certainly didn’t smell like him, not to her nose anyway. 

She pressed her face into his cowl and took a big, over exaggerated sniff. Nothing. He didn’t even smell like her shampoo or the jasmine soap she’d managed to find on the Citadel. Just...Garrus. 

Garrus chuckled, three fingered hand cupping her cheek, filed down talons grazing carefully across her skin to smooth out the furrow between her eyebrows.  

“Oh, right, you humans and your terrible sense of smell. Cute.” His grin flared his mandibles out wide, sharp teeth on show in a display of good humour.

“Garrus!” He liked getting a rise out of her, enjoyed seeing the pale skin of her cheeks turn as red as a Palaven sunset, something Turians just could not do. It was always so distinctly human, glaringly alien, but adorable. Not that many people would describe the Commander Shepard as adorable, but most people weren’t in a committed relationship with her...or he hoped most people weren’t. 

“Honey, it’s normal. We sleep together, we make love,” She groaned a little at the word choice as he returned to nuzzling underneath her neck, talons moving up and down her back in soothing motions, “we shower together, we go on every mission together, we spar together…” Selene can’t help the little moan that leaves her mouth as his breath warms across her skin before that tongue of his, blue and ridiculously dexterous, carves a path over her shoulder and up her throat, lingering on a spot behind her jaw that he knows all too well. 

“And turians are kind of known for scenting their partners.” 

“What does that even mean? Scenting? Like a cat? Are you marking your territory?” She’s never taken Garrus for being possessive, in fact, he was decidedly cool under pressure whenever someone decided to try it on with her. Occasionally he’d shift in a way that told people to back off, pressing his chest to her back, but that was only in instances where the person didn‘t know when to quit. Usually an overzealous asari or persistent human. The idea of him marking his territory, or even seeing her that way was kind of out of character to her, he just wasn’t like that. They were equals in everything they did. He was her person and she was his, one of them wasn’t more dominant in the relationship, they were partners. 

“Yes and no. You're not my territory, honey, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you're a one turian kind of woman, but I trust you and I know you can handle yourself. It’s a habit really, an instinct. I’m surprised you don’t know, you do it too.”

It’s a relief to hear him say that. While she finds Garrus ridiculously hot when he goes all bad boy vigilante turian on someone, the raw power he exudes is something else entirely, something different that starts a fire in her belly, she also doesn’t want to be seen as an object or possession. 

“I do?” They’ve gravitated, as they always do, towards each other. Selene finds herself curled up in Garrus’ lap, arms wrapped around his cowl and nose pressed to the junction of his neck, pressing light little kisses there had become a favourite pastime of hers. Calming, soothing. 

“Mmm...all the time, that little nuzzling thing you’re doing?” She pulls back, startled, eyebrows almost comically high and red still tinting her cheeks, “Yeah, I thought you were just a little possessive, but maybe this is one of those interspecies miscommunication things, huh?”  

“I...oh.” She curls back into his neck, bashful in a way no one else sees. Garrus enjoys seeing her like this, out of her element but trusting, seeking comfort in him even as he’s the source of her embarrassment. Their relationship is unconventional and with it has come embarrassment and nerves from both sides, but it’s the trust in him, and his trust in her that’s made it work, that makes it worthwhile. 

He runs his fingers through the red of her hair, the strands soft and silky, a sensation that he still finds fascinating all this time on and one that he knows she finds soothing. He can only compare it to how he feels when she caresses underneath his fringe. 

“So is that why that C-Sec officer stopped flirting with me every chance he got?” She thinks of the dark brown turian, bright orange markings across his face. Before she’d seen Garrus again, before they’d rekindled their relationship, he’d been determined to flirt with her, no matter how many times she politely turned him down. He’d since stopped, his tone always overly polite and formal, nervous even. She’d assumed Bailey had given him a dressing down, but...maybe not. 

“Mmm, probably.” His chest rumbles with the hum, soothing and deep, reverberations running through her, “Most turians aren’t going to flirt with a taken woman, ever seen two turians get into a proper fist fight? It’s more claws and teeth than anything else.” No turian wanted to get into a fight over someone they had a passing fancy for, that Garrus knew for a fact, best to leave someone alone if they were clearly in a relationship.

“Would you? If someone tried it on?” She’s curious, deeply so. Part of her wants to know he would, but part of her wants to know that he’d think about it, and take his time to decide if it was necessary. Garrus had always had a bit of a temper, quick and righteous and determined to put things right. But, he’d mellowed with age, with her nagging him and convincing him to spare people who’d wronged him and others. He was more calculating these days. 

“Depends.” A hand falls to her waist, circles being rubbed into the skin underneath her jumper, absent minded and soothing as his blue eyes look to the skylight above her bed, staring out at the stars. Contemplating his next words.

“On?” She leans up to press a kiss underneath his chin, the soft exposed skin tempting her.

“Do you want me to? How badly are they trying to get into your pants? Are you in danger? Do you need me to? Is it someone I know and despise?” His voice rumbles in his throat, she feels the vibrations against her lips and ringing through her ears. That was something about being with a turian that she loved, the subharmonics were soothing to her ear, the rumble that always seemed to roll through his body was comforting. She wouldn’t call it a purr, mostly because Garrus would fix her with that look, narrowed eyes, mandibles drawn tight against his face. He’d probably go back to calibrating the guns for a week or two straight. God, she hated that. 

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t fight for my honour?” She’s teasing him, but she can still feel him tense up. Her lack of subharmonics tended to confuse him whenever she joked and he couldn’t see her face. 

Taking pity on him Selene pulls back so he can see the amused little smirk that tugs at the corner of her mouth, freckles scrunching up across her cheeks and nose. 

“I...you’re messing with me aren’t you?” There’a a palpable sigh of relief from him as his shoulders relax and he rolls his neck before pinning her with a playful glare, huffing through his nose at her. He’s the only person she can truly be playful with and she knows he enjoys it, the closeness of their relationship isn’t lost on either of them. He makes her feel less tired, more alive, younger, even if it's for a brief moment before reality crashes back down again. 

“Yeah, just a little, big guy.” She tugs his face down gently by a scarred mandible, he follows easily, putting himself in reach so that she can press a kiss to his cheek, across the blue colony markings that are oh so familiar to her. Affection with Garrus is easy: “I love you, but I don’t need you tearing someone’s throat out for me...unless it’s Kai Leng, you can tear his throat out.” 

The assassin was a thorn in her side and she was close to snapping, her usual restraint and desire to talk things through was failing. She wouldn’t negotiate or talk with Kai Leng. If she finally got the chance...well, he probably wouldn’t be recognisable afterwards. 

“Oh, I'm tempted, believe me. There’s nothing I'd like more than to put every ounce of my anger and hatred into beating Kai Leng into a bloody pulp. Buuuut, I think you deserve the satisfaction yourself.”

“I love you, you know that right? Even if I'm walking around stinking like a turian vigilante.” She caresses the lengths of his crest and underneath, scratching short nails against the soft skin there and the purr, because it is a purr, that rumbles from his chest is almost as satisfying as the thought of finally getting revenge on Kai Leng.

“Reaper Advisor actually.” He brushes his cheek against hers, hard plates brushing against soft skin, gently, not hard enough to chafe or rub. “I love you too, even if I'm walking around stinking like a self-sacrificing human spectre.”

[multiversemuses]

A Sonata for a Root Vegetable ~ A Growing Love Story in Nine GIFs and 1,000+ Words

@darthvoldemaul

“You’re one of my favorite people in the whole wide world; you know that?” Danny prefaces one day while they’re hanging out at Spatola’s.

“Right back at you,” Rhett replies, scratching his chin and leaning back against the green cushion of the booth. “But?”

“But are you ever gonna break the ice and actually talk to her?”

“Who?”

Danny gives him a look and tosses a crumpled napkin at his face.

“You know who, dude.”

Rhett rolls his eyes even though his crooked smile belies this feigned annoyance.

“For the last time, I do not have ‘a thing’ for your lady friend’s best friend.”

“Lies.”

“I don’t. I mean she’s cute or whatever, I guess, but I don’t even know her.”

“You could, if you’d just let me put in a good word.”

“Nah, that’s even worse. I can do my own flirting, man, when I want to.”

“Nola says you just get this really intense look on your face and then sorta walk away all broody.”

“Did she tell her that?”

“No. Nola saw you guys pass each other outside Farley’s.”

“Then she also saw that her friend didn’t even look my way, so it’s all good. Doesn’t matter what my face is doing if it’s just your girlfriend and Butter the Cat watching me through the bookshop window. Her bestie didn’t notice a thing.”

Danny folds his arms and looks away. “I wouldn’t be so sure...,” he mumbles cryptically. 

“Why? What’d she say? Did she mention me to you guys?”

Danny’s expression breaks into a broad grin and he cackles triumphantly.

“Busted! You do give a shit. I called it!” 

Rhett slumps sideways and groans loudly.

“I hate you.”

As the months go by and Danny and Nola start spending more time together, so too do their friend groups. “Groups” is being used a little loosely here since Nola really only has a couple of friends her own age. However, this only means that there are even less people standing as physical buffers between Rhett and The Girl. 

The absence of Rhett’s A-Game is reaching such a level that it is even starting to be noticed by the (albeit unintentionally) oblivious. It took Marty three years to discover her best friend and roommate was in love with her and even she can discern something is up with her shaggy sidekick. 

“You okay, Rhettro Chic?” Marty asks one night at a party, eyeing him over her glass. “You’re being all quiet. It’s weird.”

Vanessa, who is seated at the table with them, follows Rhett’s line of sight and figures out whose gaze has left him flummoxed. Mercifully, she uses her very recent upgrade to girlfriend status to distract the other young woman from this line of inquiry. Nessa presses her lips to Marty’s ear and murmurs what Rhett can only assume is a request to dance, given that they start making their way toward the floor. 

As they cross the room, Vanessa gives Rhett a pointed look over her shoulder and tilts her head toward where Danny, Nola, and her friend are standing. Rhett gives her a grateful nod in return. If he is finally going to do this thing, love her though he does, Rhett really does not need Marty’s encouraging whistles and calls echoing after him. 

He downs a gulp of his beer and strides determinedly toward the far corner. Danny sees his friend’s approach and gets a knowing look in his eye. After a little idle chitchat, Danny uses his best goofy smile and dance moves to coax Nola away with him so Rhett will have his opportunity.

Somehow, just like that, it feels like Danny has found a way to make this all easier on Rhett without directly interfering. Now, if he speaks to Nola’s friend, Rhett will seem like he's sparing her the awkwardness of being left behind as a third wheel. There can even be an unspoken commiseration over their current third wheel-iness. Rhett turns to face this fellow “single Pringle” and manages a smile that almost doesn’t look nervous at all. 

“So, how’ve you been?”

Progress has been made, it’s fair to say, although they're still very much in the friendly acquaintance stage. Even so, it’s nice to be able to exchange subtle nods of greeting across South Main Street. Danny has other ways of reaching the bookshop if he were so inclined, but he conveniently keeps asking Rhett for a ride to make sure his best bud will be in the right place at the right time. Not wanting to be too obvious, Rhett always busies himself afterward by entering other nearby shops as if he’s come this way to run errands. Much to his delighted surprise, there comes one afternoon when Nola’s friend uses this to her advantage. Rhett comes back to find a scrap of notebook paper with seven digits tucked under his windshield wiper. 

Call me sometime - S.

“So your friend Marty always addresses you by a nickname?”

“Sorta. I don’t know if it really counts as a nickname when she tries to steer clear of repeats so it’s never the same. More like name puns? Play on words or whatever.”

“Gotcha. I’m gonna give you one for your contact in my phone. It’s like  Rheumatologist, Rhinocerous, stuff like that?”

“Nah, that’s more like that Benedict guy who played the dragon fr--”

“Got it! I’m texting you a screenshot.”

“...Rutabaga Wickerchair. You’re pretty proud of that one, aren’t you?”

“Taking my bows as we speak. I brought it up a level ’cause your last name’s in it now, too.”

“All right, two can play at that game. Check your messages.”

“Symphony OldMacDonald. That is... something special.”

“Hey, it’s a closer match than Rutabaga.”

“Debatable.”

“A coffee date. Very conventional. And very not you.” 

“What can I say? I’m a man of mystery. Gotta keep you on your toes.”

"Sure, Jan. C’mon, spill it. What’s going on, Scruffleupagus? You’re up to something; I know it. This wouldn’t happen to be one of your collaborative effort pranks, would it?”

“Dunno. Guess you’ll have to wait in suspense and find out.”

“Gonna keep your secrets to the last, huh? All right. But I’m on to you.”

“Scruffle Shuffle!”

Rhett cleans the cheese dust off his fingers with meticulous care, pretending not to hear.

“Rhett!”

He tilts back his head, catching the remaining bag crumbs in his mouth. Rhett gives no indication that he has seen her waving.

“Pardon me... Handsome!”

Rhett smiles in spite of himself but keeps up the act that he hasn’t noticed her prior to this moment.

“Oh hey, Syd.”

“Y’know, strictly speaking, we’re not allowed to bring outsiders back here.”

“Funny, of the two of us, I’d have said you're the one who favors the Ponyboy aesthetic.”

“Har-dee-har. You know the kind I mean.”

“Non-delinquents?” 

“Uh, yeah, something like that.”

“They’re right to be wary, y’know.”

“’Cause I’m such a bad influence?”

“No, ’cause I am. I throw a mean bash, mister. Gimme a box of rinse cups, some AA batteries, and a little dry ice and I could put this place on the social map in a night.”

“A regular Party MacGyver, eh?”

“Damn straight.”

“I’d better not let The Powers That Be know you’re here, then.”

“You’re gonna protect me from your scary headmistress?”

“Yup.”

“Risking life and limb for your lady fair?”

“Yeah or, y’know, like a month’s detention.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

“This is where you wanted to show me? One of the piers under the bridge?”

“Yup, this is the one.”

“Interesting. Why this place? What makes it special?”

“I don’t know. It’s quiet, I guess.”

“Yeah. Or it was, ’til you brought me out here.”

“Hmm... The water does seem weirdly still. Even the semis don’t scare off the fish, but they sure heard you coming.”

“Watch yourself, Studly, or I’m gonna help you get intimately acquainted with the Delaware.”

A handful of the academy kids are sitting with Nola and her friends around a bonfire on the shoreline. On a log by themselves near the far side of the circle, Syd and Rhett scuff sand onto the ends of each other’s shoes and make shadow puppets in the flickering glow from the flames.

“Crap, outta juice again,” Marty whines a little louder than necessary and tilts her Solo cup with an exaggerated flip of the wrist. 

“There are a few Mike’s left in the cooler,” Nola points out.

Marty pretends to consider them but wrinkles her nose. “The ice has gotten melted from being too close to the fire.”

“I’ll get you a cold one from the spare supply in the truck,” Vanessa volunteers.

“Aww, thanks, babe. You’re the best.” Marty gives her a peck on the cheek and they discretely exchange a conspiratorial wink.

Things go back to normal for a minute or two until Marty’s cell phone suddenly blares. The ringtone is so loud that everyone around the bonfire jumps about half a foot. 

“Sha la la la la la! Don't be scared. You better be prepared. Go on and kiss the girl!

Marty puts a hand to her chest and gives an exaggerated laugh.

“Oh, that must be my talent manager. Excuse me. I really have to take this.”

She sweeps away into the darkness with the phone pressed to her ear, kicking Rhett’s shin rather sharply as she passes. He winces and rubs the leg of his jeans but, when he sits upright again, Syd is watching him. Did she glance at his lips just then or was it a trick of the light?

[kayteewritessteve]

If London Should Ring

Description: An elusive Hydra criminal finally comes out of hiding after months. Bringing Steve, Tony, Bucky and Sam to an exclusive weapons expo in London, alongside a rather interesting Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) agent. Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 11,700 ish. Bloody hell! This one got away from me just a bit...this is basically a mini series in a one shot.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG. Warnings: Curse words. Accounts and moments of violence. Mentions of dying and dead Hydra henchmen. And I think that’s it.

Requested: Yes, by the lovely @thedarklightwithinus who wanted a one shot with a British reader. So here it is, I truly hope you enjoy it! And sorry it’s so dang long, I just got super into it and couldn’t stop! ♥️♥️♥️ A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

Fury enters the large meeting room, a brown manila folder gripped tightly in his hand, as he makes his way to the front of the massive table. All the available Avengers already sitting around it, wondering why they are here, and what this impromptu meeting is all about.

Steve glances around the room, seeing only Sam, Bucky and Tony present. As Nat, Wanda, Clint, and Vis are all off in random places in the world, on different missions. And Thor is off—well, off doing Thor things probably, no one really knows where he goes, somewhere far out in space no doubt. And Bruce is in his lab, tinkering away on some project Steve would never be able to understand. So that just leaves the 4 guys in the tower, attempting to enjoy their off time—well as much as they can, knowing that at any given moment they could be called into a briefing and shipped out. Much like right now, he assumes.

Fury drops the heavy folder on the table with a thud and clears his throat, drawing all the attention to him. He flips the folder open and grabs a few pieces of paper, effortlessly sliding a few small, stapled stacks across the tables smooth surface, one to each man. All of them picking the packets up and briefly skimming over the few pages of information. Forgoing a greeting, in classic Fury fashion, he just begins to explain why they are all here. Not wanting to waste anyone's time, but mainly his own. “We finally got some intel on Surkov,” he starts and Steve instantly perks up at the mentioned name.

Nikolai Surkov has been a thorn in Steve's side for months now. He’d first encountered Surkov—or rather, first learned his name—while in Russia taking out a large Hydro facility that was testing, and producing, animal warfare. Taking regular animals and changing them into bloodthirsty killing machines. Steve was disgusted, to say the least, and it had left him with a few new haunting images to fill his regular nightly nightmares.

They’d gone in full force and had successfully managed to take control of the entire location within 20 minutes. Along with also managing to keep all the animals safe, up until the specialists and scientists were sent in and took over. The animals were all successfully extracted and then brought to safer locations. Locations where the specialists could begin humanely attempting to undo the damage done to them, and look at relocating them all to more permanent, safe sanctuaries. Where all the animals could live out their days, peacefully. But even with that facility being permanently shut down, they knew it was only a matter of time before a new one popped up, and took over where this one had left off. And to make matters worse, Surkov had managed to escape undetected during the melee. Slipping away into the night right before they could capture him for questioning, as he was the one in charge of the whole facility. And they knew he’d be valuable for intel moving forward, being that he was rather high up in Hydra’s organization.

After they’d cleared out the whole facility, they’d then spent weeks searching for Nikolai, taking out a few more, smaller Hydra bases along the way. But he’d basically vanished, and had clearly gone deep underground. So deep that even Nat couldn’t track him, though she had tried, but it always ended up in the same place. Either just missing him, or having not even been close to him to begin with.

So, 7 months later, and they still haven’t been able to locate him. Not even so much as a single clue as to his current whereabouts, or even a hint as to which country he may be residing in. And to make matters worse, the Avengers aren’t the only ones looking out for him. A few international government organizations are searching as well, but there hasn’t been a single hit on him. Anywhere. He had basically dropped off the face of the earth. But now, now they might finally be getting somewhere. Or at least Steve desperately hopes that they are.

“Our sources believe he will be coming out of hiding to attend a large weapons expo in London. But he’ll most likely be going under an alias, and in a disguise of some sort. It is a private, and heavily guarded event, and attendance is by invite only,” Fury looks to Tony, “and since you are Tony Stark, you got one of the elusive invitations. But before you go getting too excited about that, Steve is your plus one.”

Tony glances at Steve, smirk plastered on his face, “how do you look in a dress, Capsicle?”

Steve scoffs and crosses his large arms over his broad chest, “you’d probably look better in the dress.”

Tony nods, “true, I probably would. I look good in everything.”

Steve shakes his head then turns to focus on Fury, having a few questions bouncing around in his head. “So we don’t know for sure if he’ll even be there?”

“We don’t.”

“Do we at least know why he is coming out of hiding now, and for an expo of all things?”

“We don’t, but we can assume it has something to do with the world's top weapons distributors and manufacturers all being in one place at the same time,” Fury shuffles some papers around on the table. “The risks of him attending this event are high, but there is too much potential money at stake for him to not attend. He will either be there to make illegal sales of his own weapons, or he will be there to illegally buy weapons. And both options aren’t particularly favourable to any of us, so we have to take him down before he accomplishes either.”

Steve nods in agreement, having a Hydra high up in possession of major modern warfare does not sound appealing at all. Especially if that higher up is Surkov. He focuses back on the packet of paper in his hands, one section standing out to him. “We will be working with SIS agents on this?”

“A SIS agent,” Fury corrects Steve.

“Wait, MI6!?” Sam interjects, as he sits up straighter, and glances around at the other guys, “I thought they were only allowed to handle matters outside of the UK?”

“That’s correct, MI5 usually handles everything within the UK, but MI6 has been hunting Surkov for months, just like us. So I’m assuming they have a bone to pick with him, as they aren’t usually too pleased with criminals outsmarting them. And I’m guessing in their eyes, what MI5 doesn’t know, won’t kill them. So they have chosen to quietly lend us one of their top agents to help facilitate things.”

“Meaning they want us to have a babysitter while we’re there,” Tony comments.

“Essentially,” Fury nods. “Their agent needs to stay out of the limelight on this though, so once Surkov is in custody they will disappear as if they were never there.” The men all nod, understanding that the agent will basically be a ghost to anyone but them. There to oversee and assist, but gone before anyone even notices they were in attendance to begin with.

“So what’s the plan then?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“Tony and Steve will attend the function, same with the MI6 agent. While Sam and Bucky will be on the roof, watching the doors.”

“Okay, and when do we leave?” Steve questions. Fury closes the folder then picks it back up, “in 3 hours, so pack your suits boys, your going to London.”

Steve steps off the Quinjet, raising his hand to block the blinding sunlight as he looks around. Bucky, Sam and Tony joining him on the tarmac as their eyes also start to adjust to the bright light.

“Enjoy it while you can lads, the sun doesn’t come out too often,” a sweet accented feminine voice rings out in the air. Steve instantly goes searching for the source of the voice, feeling Bucky elbow him in the side as he makes a low whistle sound, just before Steves eyes lock onto a petite form.

The woman is standing about 20 feet away from them, in a simple grey pants suit, with a white blouse. Nothing too fancy, but it’s not the clothes Steve is looking at. She is absolutely breathtaking, and even in the misleading pant-suit Steve can tell she has curves in all the right places. And he instantly chastised himself for checking her out, they are here to do a mission, not gawk at the agent. A mission that could easily end badly, though hopefully it will end with a very connected, and very dangerous, man behind bars. So no, now is not the time to be ogling their liaison, no matter how beautiful she may be.

“That’s the MI6 agent?” Sam mumbles so only the guys will hear him.

“I call dibs,” Bucky whispers with a chuckle.

“Like hell you do, Tin-Man,” Sam scoffs. “Plus you’re far too old for her.”

“And you’re far too dumb,” Bucky retorts, childishly. Steve shoots both guys a stern warning glare, telling them to zip it and behave.

“You both don’t even stand a chance,” Tony chuckles as he shakes his head and makes his way towards the agent. Sam and Bucky hurrying to catch up to him. Steve just sighs deeply and slings his bag over his shoulder, following the guys towards where she currently stands beside an all black Mercedes GLS—But Steve only knows that because the back of the large SUV is currently facing him, and he can read the chrome decals with the model name on it.

You arrived to the airstrip 20 minutes before the Avengers were due to land. And to say you were excited to meet the legendary heroes was a bit of an understatement. You’d admired them all for years, maybe even longer, reading countless articles on them and their accomplishments. Even occasionally watching the odd news release on them, if you could find the time, that is.

When this opportunity was offered to you, you’d had to reign in your excitement level. Not wanting to look daft in front of your superiors. So you’d just given them a stiff nod, replying professionally that you’d accept, and then listened intently as they finished briefing you on the operation, before promptly exited the room once they had finished. And then the second you were out of eye shot you’d done a little happy dance, allowing your utter internal glee out for just a moment. Before you’d promptly reigned it back in and continued on with your day.

So now, 2 days later, here you are standing on the tarmac waiting for their aircraft to land. And desperately trying to calm your rising nerves and racing heart. You quickly wipe your clammy hands down the front of your pants, as you hear the first sounds of a descending aircraft. Then do a silent prayer to the heavens that you don’t make an arse of yourself in front of them.

You are a distinguished agent, one who has spent your whole life honing your skills and climbing the proverbial ladder. You are a top MI6 agent for a reason, you didn’t just fall into this position, you earned it. You can’t let 4 men—superheroes or not—get to you like this. You’ve done countless missions. Saved, rescued and killed many, many people. This should be a piece of cake for you. So then why are you still so bloody nervous?

As the ramp lowers, you shift your weight anxiously from foot to foot. But then quickly reprimand yourself, and force yourself to stand tall and steady. You watch as the four men start to walk off the aeroplane, you smile as they all start to squint or raise their hands to shield their eyes from the sun. It was a beautiful day out, the sun was out and shinning, which wasn’t a regular occurrence in this part of the world. But you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

Your eyes glance over each of them, pausing for a little longer on a certain blonde super soldier. You’d assumed he’d be rather dashing from the photos you’d seen, but you never expected him to be this insanely fit. Like drool all over yourself attractive. He was a dishy for sure. You giggle quietly to yourself then loudly say, “enjoy it while you can lads, the sun doesn’t come out too often.”

You watch as their eyes all search for you, each of them finding you rather quickly. You have to bite your lip to hide your grin when you watch Sergeant Barnes promptly elbow Captain Rogers. Then the guys all exchange a few words that you can’t make out over the general noise of the airstrip, but you can assume what they are chatting about. You.

Mr. Shark is the first one to make his way towards you, and you stand tall—as tall as you can, at least—and focus your full attention on him. But you are always aware of your surroundings, so you note that Mr. Wilson and Sergeant Barnes are only a few steps behind him, while Captain Rogers is still near the end of the ramp. And just as Mr. Stark reaches you, you stick your right hand out to him, “Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Harper.”

He playfully grimaces, “please, call me Tony, no need for the formalities. And it’s nice to meet you also, Harper,” he says the name suspiciously as he shakes your hand, a smirk playing on his lips. “Though I am curious if that is your real name or not.”

You smirk right back, “it is today.” Which is true, that isn’t actually your name, but you have to be a ghost here. And using real names makes that rather difficult to accomplish. So as far as these lads are concerned, you are Harper.

He playfully narrows his eyes at you, “I tried to look you up, couldn’t find any mention of you anywhere though.”

“I should think not,” you wink at him then turn your focus to the other two men, sticking your right hand out once again, “Sergeant Barnes and Mr. Wilson, I presume?”

Sergeant Barnes shakes your hand first, sending you a handsome smile, “just Bucky is fine, Doll.”

Mr. Wilson scoffs loudly at Bucky’s use of the pet name, and you almost burst out laughing at that. Being utterly thankful he drew the attention to him, and away from the flush most likely now on your face. You offer your hand to Mr. Wilson, who shakes it and also corrects his name, “everyone just calls me Sam.”

“Sam it is then,” you smile and nod.

“Okay, I gotta know,” Sam starts, leaning in slightly to whisper, “how did you end up in MI6? I heard it’s extremely hard to get hired with them.” He leans back and gives you a once over, but not in a creepy way. More of an assessment. “And you can’t be much older then what? Mid twenties, max?”

“Yes,” Tony pipes in, eyeing you up as well, “I’m also curious about that.”

“Guys,” a deep voice sighs, exasperatedly, from your left, “you all know she can’t give us any information on herself.”

You glance over to see Captain Rogers now standing near you. Finding yourself instantly and utterly gobsmacked by the ridiculously tall and insanely attractive super soldier. Your mouth promptly dries and your heart starts to race. He is even more of a dish up close. You tear your eyes away from the solid tower of a man, forcing them back to the three others. Not wanting to just awkwardly ogle him any longer, for fear he may think you daft, or worse, a slapper. You internally cringe at the thought and externally nod to the men, “yes, Captain Rogers is correct. As far as you all are concerned, I’m just Harper, your hired tourist guide, and nothing more.”

They don’t look too pleased with your response, but you can’t risk your true identity getting out. The fact that they already know what you look like, and that you are MI6, is already too far out of your comfort zone. You shake off your worry and then turn to face the tower again, extending your hand for the final time today, “Captain Rogers, it’s truly an honour to meet you, sir. Welcome to London.”

And once again, you internally cringe, but this time it’s at how eager and utterly star-stuck your voice sounded just now. Barely even registering in your ears as your own voice. You want to face palm, instantly. Your eyes catch the movement as the corners of his lips twitched up just slightly, instantly confirming that he had picked up on your flustered tone as well. Though luckily for you, he doesn’t draw any attention to it, and instead just grasps your hand firmly. And the moment his large, warm hand engulfs yours, you want to melt into a puddle. You never expected to have this sort of instantaneous reaction to a man, let alone Steve Rogers AKA Captain America. However, in your defence, you never actually expected to ever meet the man, let alone shake his hand.

“Please, just Steve,” he smiles, “and it’s an honour to meet you too, Harper.”

How did he...? Right, super soldier with crazy intense hearing. You’d need to remember that for the future. You smile in return, reluctantly extracting your hand from his, then gesture towards the SUV. “Well, now that the introductions are all out of the way, shall we be off?”

They all nod and then move towards the vehicle. Tony, Sam and Bucky all bickering about seating placement as they hop into the back. And you make your way to the right side to get into the driver's seat. Rounding the back to the car you see Steve going to pull open the door and you giggle at that, “you planning to drive us?”

He turns to you, his brow furrowed in confusion, “I’m sorry?”

You smirk, leaning in to whisper, “we do things on the opposite sides here.”

He quickly turns to look in the window, most likely now seeing the steering wheel, then chuckles and rubs the back of his neck as he looks back to you, “I’m still not entirely used to that. Clearly.” He pulls open the door for you, stepping back slightly so you can get in.

“I figured,” you smile sweetly, as you climb into the car. “And thank you.” He nods and closes your door then makes his way to the left side of the car.

“He forgot you guys do things weirdly over here, didn’t he?” Tony pipes up from the back and you glance over your shoulder as you click in your seatbelt, and just as Steve opens the passenger door you speak.

“No, I believe he was just being a gentleman,” you reply nonchalantly as you look up at Steve, who gives you a thankful nod as he takes his seat.

You may not know Tony Stark well—or rather, at all currently—but you can already tell that he’d be someone to hold something, even as small as this, over Steve for days. Where as it’s common knowledge that the super soldiers are gentleman, being from the 40’s and all. You glance back at Tony, who looks ridiculous currently sandwiched between Bucky and Sam, having refused to let them sit next to each other.

“And we do things the right way over here. Hence why the driver is located on the right,” you gesture to yourself then turn to face forward. Starting up the car, and driving off the tarmac, heading off towards the hotel where you’ll all be staying for the next week.

The first 3 days flew by, spending most of that time touring the guys around London, showing them all the sights, and keeping up the rouse that they were just here on vacation, and to attend the expo as guests. You wore a full disguise and acted as their ‘hired tourist guide’, when in actuality you were all out hunting down information on Surkov. Trying to learn if he was for sure going to be in attendance at the expo.

By the 4th day of reaching out to informants and your lads in the underground, you managed to figure out that he was in fact going to be there. And that he would be going by the alias, Dmitry Kalashnik.

Then the 5th day, was spent huddled in Tony’s room studying Surkov’s photos, going over the floor plans, and finalizing everything else. Making sure you were all on the same page, and everyone knew where to be, who they were looking for, and what their assignments were.

And now being the 6th day, also known as expo day, you were currently getting ready for the show. But you hadn’t seen much of the guys all day, everyone taking the morning to themselves to prep and prepare for the mission. Just as you’d done as well.

However, it was finally time to start getting ready, and even though this was a weapons expo, the dress code was posh as shite. You’d had to purchase a formal gown for the event, but luckily because this was technically a mission, SIS had covered the cost of the dress. So all you really had to do was pick one out that you liked.

The dress you’d ended up choosing was a nude Gemeli Power creation, that was form fitting and had somewhat sturdy wrap around straps. Though you’d partially chosen this dress mainly for the fact it would be impossible to fight in, and as you weren’t supposed to even be in the UK. Let alone working a job for MI6. You figured having on a dress that restricted your abilities and that you risked ripping apart at the seams in a melee, was a smart choice. Mainly just to help keep you in line, and remind you that you couldn’t blow your ghost cover.

Though you had originally been looking at a red dress, but figured red would stand out too much. So you went with a flattering nude colour, it accented your skin tone perfectly and didn’t draw too much attention to you. You couldn’t be remembered by anyone tonight, but you still needed to look pretty enough to actually entice Surkov enough to chat you up.

You’re assignment was only to track Surkov down and distract him, while Tony slipped a sedative into his drink and Steve watched everything play out from afar, handling any interferences. Then when he started to feel the effects of the sedative, you’d be a caring stranger and help lead him outside for some fresh air, where Bucky and Sam would be waiting to collect him. And once that was all said and done, you’d slip silently away into the night.

You’d showered quickly, deciding to leave your hair down, and styling it minimally, then applied your makeup and gotten dressed. The final touch being a beautiful pearl ring, that held a teensy tiny secret, and that you never left for a mission without. And now all that was left to do was to make your way to the expo, as you’d be showing up alone. Instead of with the lads, as that would—once again—draw too much attention to you. You needed to pretend like you had no clue who they were, like you were just there on behalf of your company.

A company that was entirely made up by MI6, but that they used as a front for things exactly like this. In the eyes of the public, Ingenx Inc was a fully functional and operational legal weapons wholesaler and manufacturer. Yet in actuality, it was just an empty warehouse in the middle of nowhere, with the only staff members being the security guards that watched over the site. You’d never even been there before, yet you supposedly headed up the companies entire ‘acquisitions and procurement’ department.

As the hired car pulled up outside the venue, you quickly slipped in your ear piece, switching it on and then climbed out of the car. Adjusting your dress so it fell on your body smoothly and then made your way into the large venue.

Showing your invite to security once you approached, and giving them your Ingenx alias of Kelly Hartley. And then once they had found your name on the list, they ushered you through the doors and you entered into a grand lobby. Finding lots of poshly dressed people standing around in small groups, mingling and sipping drinks. You continued on ahead into the first of three massive ballrooms that were housing the expo tonight, with only one thought on your mind as you entered the massive room, lined with booths along all the walls and two rows down the middle. The game is afoot.

Steve wandered around in the second ballroom, keeping his eye out for Surkov as he went. But stopping every few booths when something caught his eye, to check out the weapons and ask pointless questions as to keep up the front that he was only here to scope out products for the Avengers.

Harper—as she claimed—was going by Kelly tonight and was in charge of searching ballroom one. Steve was in charge of ballroom two, and Tony had the third ballroom. Whoever located Surkov first would inform the others over the comms, and they would all convene to that ballroom and then the plan would be put into action. Steve raises a hand to pretend to scratch his ear and then inserts the comms device, turning it on once it was in place. Then he murmurs a quick, “can everyone hear me?”

“Aye aye, Captain,” comes Tony’s quick response. Followed closely by a, “you betcha, Pal,” from Buck. Then a, “loud and clear,” from Sam. But Harper is silent, so Steve speaks quietly again, “Harper, you out there?”

A moment later she finally speaks up, and Steve releases the breath he’d been holding. Worried that something might have already happened to her. “Yes, I’m here. My apologizes, I got stuck chatting up a smarmy git who refused to put a sock in it,” she huffs. And Steve has to attempt to not laugh out loud, as he isn’t currently talking to anyone, and that would only draw unwanted attention to him. “A what now?” Sam asks confused and Steve hears Bucky laughing loudly in the background. “And put a sock where, exactly?” Tony adds, through a chuckle.

A loud sigh rings out over the comms, and Steve figures that she is slowly becoming more used to the guys constantly asking what her British slang means. Her sigh is followed closely by her soft, slightly irritated, accented voice, “a smarmy git is like a,” she pauses. “I duno, like a greasy, unpleasant person, I guess? And the sock would have been for his gob.” Another pause, “you remember what a gob is, yeah?”

Tony chuckles, “that we do.” And Steve internally agrees with him, they had learned a bunch of new words over the last week, gob being just one of many.

During one of their ‘touring’ days, as she called them. Harper had been cut off by another car and had made some strange hand signal and yelled, “you tosser!” out the window at the other driver. Sam had promptly asked what a tosser was, and she’d just sighed and then explained that it meant ‘a wanker’. And even though Steve knew that the guys understood what she meant by that, Tony, being Tony, still questioned it further. Causing her to shoot him a playful glare but then explained that in some cases, much like being cut off, it meant an idiot with a total lack of regard for others.

Then, the next day she accidentally turned the wrong way down a one way street, and uttered a, “bloody hell!” when she noticed. That time, the guys didn’t need to ask what she meant by that, but yet in classic Tony form, he had said ‘language!’ and then, because she obviously didn’t know the context behind that phrase. Nor would Tony clearly ever let Steve live that down, he explained exactly where ‘language’ came from. Causing Harper to giggle uncontrollably but then, surprisingly, she hasn’t brought it up or joked about it since. Which did not go unnoticed by Steve.

“Anyone have eyes on him yet?” Steve asks over the comms. “Negative Capsicle,” Tony answers. “Nothing yet,” Harper replies, “though I have searched the entire room and he isn’t here. What would you like me to do now, Steve?”

“Stay there for now, Harper. If he isn’t here yet, the first ballroom will most likely be where he goes once he arrives. Tony, is your ballroom clear?”

“Yeah, he isn’t in this one either.”

“Alright, then let’s all convene in the first ballroom to wait it out,” Steve answers as he makes his way out of the second ballroom and heads towards the first.

“I just have to see a man about a dog, and then I’ll be there,” Tony replies, cheekily.

A snort followed by an angelic giggle plays through the comms, causing an involuntary smile to break out on Steve’s lips as he enters into the first ballroom. He was growing pretty fond of the sounds of her laughs. Or rather, just her in general. More fond than he should be after only a week around her. And with every passing day, the realization that he’ll have to leave soon sinks in more and more. Leaving him completely clueless as to what he is going to do about that. But for now he has to focus on the mission, focus on finding Surko—

His eyes instantly land on her as he enters into the first ballroom, and he is positive his jaw is actually laying on the floor now. He is speechless. Or gobsmacked, as she’d put it. He hadn’t gotten a chance to see her all day, let alone since she’s been in that dress. She’d been wearing loose fitting clothes all week, in an attempt to help mask her identity. He’ll admit, even in the ill fitting clothes she was absolutely stunning.

But like this?! This dress, the way it hugs her like a glove, and shows off just enough skin but also leaves some to the imagination. He can barely contain the urge to go to her, scoop her up and take her away from all of this. Somewhere he can keep her forever, and do everything in his power to make her happy, safe and carefree. He shakes his head, clearing the thoughts, and forces his eyes to move away from the goddess in front of him. He is supposed to be a stranger to her, and vice versa. He can’t blow her cover, nor his own. He has to get a handle on his emotions, his thoughts, and his eyes.

You’re standing in front of a booth that has a display of long range missile launchers. Listening to the vender explain all the features and you’re not going to lie, you want one. Badly. Maybe you could buy one for yourself? But would you really ever use it? Would you ever need to? Who are you kidding, of course you would, you’d honestly find any reason to use it. But what if you lose it in a melee? Best to get 3 of them, just to be safe—

Something large and royal blue catches your eye, and you glance over to see Steve, slowly making his way down the row of booths towards you. And your heart skips a beat as you take in just how utterly handsome he looks in his suit. So handsome it should probably be illegal. You’d write a letter to parliament later about that.

You glance around the room, noticing a few female eyes lingering on the ridiculously fit super soldier. But honestly, you’d have expected way more eyes to be on him. How are some women, and men, not even paying attention to their surroundings enough to notice him?! Who could not want to just stare longing at the tower of a man. He was utter perfection.

You shake your head, suppressing a laugh at your ridiculous thoughts, and then attempt to focus back on the man going over the missile launchers you so desperately wanted just 4 minutes ago. But now, now you don’t want 3 of them anymore. You just want 1 Steve. Bullocks! You sigh deeply, then thank the vender for the presentation as you step away from the booth. You need a drink now, or maybe 5.

And just as you turn, you collide with a wall of muscle, and know instantly who it is, without a shadow of a doubt. You glance up at the piercing blue eyes that you’ve grown so enchanted with over the last week. Then your eyes drop down to his lips, as the corners of them twitch slightly. Clearly he is suppressing a smirk right now. Cheeky bugger. Your eyes snap back up to his just as he starts to speak, “my apologizes, ma’am. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

You force your face to stay neutral, “that’s alright, neither was I. No harm done.”

“How’s about I buy you a drink to make up for it?”

You furrow your brows at him momentarily, you both were supposed to be steering clear of each other. You weren’t supposed to even chat him up, let alone get a drink with him. What is he doing? In your peripherals you notice people watching you both, realizing that if you decline the offer it may seem more odd then if you just accept the drink offer. Because honestly, who would turn down a drink with Steve Rogers? No one, that’s who. And if you do turn him down, people may question as to why you did. You nod, “that sounds like a splendid idea.”

He offers you his right hand, “I’m Steve Rogers.”

You shake it, “Kelly Hartley.”

“It’s truly an honour to meet you, Kelly,” he smirks at you, offering you his arm and reciting the flustered line you had originally used when you both first met. You have to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing at this big beautiful bugger.

“Likewise,” you say as you place your hand in the crook of his arm, then he leads you towards the bar.

Tony’s voice rings out in your ear, “Cap, did you miss the part where we weren’t supposed to interact with,” he pauses for effect then continues on to say your name slowly, drawing attention to it. “Harper.” And just like every other time he has used your name, over the last few days, he always says it slowly and with a sarcastic emphasis on it. Making you well aware that he knows it’s not your real name, and that he desperately wants to know what your actual name is. But that is one bit of information that Tony Stark will not be getting his hands on. And that thought makes you grin, knowing that you are frustrating thee Tony Stark makes you proud.

You and Steve reach the bar and you reluctantly remove your hand from his arm, turning to him as he speaks, “what would you like to drink?”

“Surprise me, I’m easy,” you smirk up at him and he chuckles softly, then turns to the waiting bartender and orders you both a drink.

Turning to face you again once he’s finished. “So, Kelly, what is it that brings you to a weapons expo?”

“Same reasons as you, I presume,” you smile, and it’s slightly cheeky, “here to check out the merchandise, and possibly leave with some. If one catches my eye, that is.”

The twinkle in his eye tells you he caught your double entendres, like always. “Have any?” he pauses, then adds, “caught your eye yet, I mean.”

You glance around the room, nonchalantly, “a few,” then you lock eyes with him again, “one in particular.” Then you see the bartender put your drinks on the counter beside you and you pick yours up, taking a deliberately slow sip. But keeping your eyes locked with his the whole time.

“Oh?” He says, intrigued, also picking up his drink, “and which one was that?”

“A rather large, rather robust,” you lick your lower lip, your eyes flicking down to his plump lips before snapping back up to his eyes. “Long range missile launcher,” you finish, watching as his cheeks flush slightly, and you almost want to pat yourself on the back. Over the last week, Steve and you have had a very interesting friendship. You both had clicked instantly and within a day, you were curious just how proper America’s golden boy really was.

So you tested the waters, starting with a few small and slightly flirty innuendos. And you were not disappointed by his responses, at all. Yes, he’d blush like a schoolgirl, but he would play into them and respond in kind. It quickly became a game to you both, seeing just how far you could take the double entendres or innuendos, before one of you caved and either laughed or forfeited.

You were pleasantly surprised by just how quick on his feet he was—and you aren’t talking about his fighting skills. The games score was basically tied up at this point, you both being pretty evenly matched in the wits department. But there was one secret part to the game, one Steve was gormless too. And that was that you were also seeing if you could make him blush. And each time you did, you’d get a sweet. Looks like you owe yourself a sweetie now.

“Is Cap blushing?” Tony’s voice cut into your mind once more, “you two are playing that game again, aren’t you?” You bite your lip, and nod, knowing wherever Tony is, he’ll see your subtle reply. Then you glance around and catch sight of him off to your left, near a booth for miniature grenades, but your eyes don’t pause on him and instead continue on around the room. “And you didn’t invite me to join?” He gasps playfully, then continues on in the worst English accent you’ve ever heard, “I am completely and utterly appalled.”

You snort and Steve subtly shakes his head, then continues on with the charade, “I don’t believe I’ve seen those yet. I’ll have to thoroughly check them out before I leave.”

“Oh yes, you simply must,” you nod.

“Guys, I got eyes on Surkov,” Sam’s voice rings in your ear now, and both Steve and yourself tense up slightly, “he is entering the building now.”

And just like that, the game is over. We’ll just call this one a drawn. You hold up your glass in front of you, “thank you for the drink, Steve. But I must be off, though I do so hope you thoroughly enjoy checking the weapons out.”

He smirks, “same to you, Kelly.” Then you move away from the bar, and the insanely fit super soldier, and start to make your way around the ballroom. Heading towards the entrance as to position yourself where you may be able to catch Surkov's eye.

And just as you reach the booth closest to the door, you see him entering the ballroom. You position yourself so that your bum and exposed back are facing towards him, and then you glance over your shoulder as if looking for someone. But then you pause your ‘search’ when your eyes lock on to his, before giving him a very obvious, and very played up, once over ending it all off with a coy smirk as your eyes meet his once again. And once that is competed you promptly turn back around, continuing to look at the wide selection of artillery attachments, before picking up an advanced clip on thermal scope. Pretending to be ridiculously interested in it and all its features.

After a moment you feel a presence right next to you, closer than proper society would allow, and you glance over to see Surkov standing there. Checking out the accessories as well. And you almost laugh at just how easy it was to catch his attention. “Can you believe just how far weapons accessories have come,” you start, stepping a little closer to him as he glances down at you. “I could probably fit that sniper rifle stand in my handbag, but I’d wager 100 pounds that she could easily support the weight of a rather large,” you eye him up and down again, licking your lower lip, “man. If need be.”

He smirks at you, giving you a full up and down as well, “easily, you say?”

“Oh yes,” you nod, “very easily. Care to wager against me?”

“No,” he shakes his head and chuckles, “I only bet on sure things. Not against them.”

“Well darn,” you sigh, playfully. “I was rather looking forward to taking your money,” you smirk up at him, “seems you are too smart for my tricks.”

“So it would seem. Care to join me for a drink..?” He trails off, prompting you for your name.

“Kelly,” you stick your right hand out to him, “Kelly Hartley.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kelly,” he clasps your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I’m Dmitry Kalashnik.”

You deliberately think of Steve being the one kissing your hand—and maybe other places as well, you dirty birdie—the images causing an instant flush to take over your cheeks. Helping to play up your act of being interested in Surkov. “You, as well.”

He grins and then leads you both off to the bar, and once you get there he orders for you both. Not even asking what you’d like, but you already figured that’s what he’d do. He seems like the type to need constant control in every situation. So you’d play to his ego and give him exactly that.

You spend the next 20 minutes listening ‘intently’ to everything he says, answering the odd questions he asks here and there, and absentmindedly playing with the pearl ring on your finger. Spinning it round and round as a distraction.

You are still on your first drink, but he is now on his third. You’ve caught eyes with Steve a few times when he’d check in over the comms, letting him know with your eyes that you were okay. But other then that, every one stayed away and quiet, allowing you the peace to continue pretending to be focused on Surkov. You catch movement behind him, and hear Tony quietly say over the comms, “I’m ready when you are.”

Your eyes flick momentarily passed Surkov and lock with Tony’s, giving him the signal, before focusing back on the large Russian. He is yakking on about his homeland or something, you aren’t really sure anymore. You tuned out a while ago, but continued to nod every once in a while. Seemingly very interested in whatever he was saying.

And then your celly chirps from with in your small handbag, and you open the snap and go to grab your phone. But just as you reach your hand inside the clutch, it falls out of your hands and crashes to the floor. The contents scattering all over the place. “Oh bullocks,” you mumble and then quickly crouch down to collect up your scattered things.

Surkov places his drink down on the bar, then crouches down to help you pick everything up. His hands instantly finding the 3 condom packages you’d strategically placed in you handbag for this exact reason. He lifts them up between his fingers, a smirk playing on his lips and one eyebrow raised.

You instantly force yourself—though you’re not going to lie, it honestly doesn’t take much effort at all—to think of a certain blonde tower, possibly using those rubber johnny’s with you. And once again you flush, instantly.

Making you realize right away that using images of Steve to help you fake being flustered works surprisingly well, and you plan to exploit that new little trick further in the future. It could definitely come in handle in situations just like this. As long as the images themselves don’t kill you on there own—that being a very real possibility for sure. But is exploiting your attraction to Steve like this, creepy? Probably. Are you going to let that stop you from fantasizing about the man in the buff? Not bloody likely.

You internally shake yourself, forcing yourself to focus, and decide to play it up by coyly bowing your head, pretending to be embarrassed. You gather up the last of your things, placing them back in your handbag and then take the condoms from Surkov, making sure to graze your fingers along his as you do. “Better to be safe, I always say,” you place them in your bag as well, then stand back up. Instantly noticing that Tony is now gone.

“All clear,” Tony’s voice comes over the comms again, and then he chuckles out a, “and the condoms were a fantastic touch, by the way.”

You bite your lip to suppress the smirk that wants to form, as your eyes flick instantly over to Steve’s, seeing him raise a brow at you. The expression almost causing you to blush even more. You glance back to Surkov, who has a smug smirk on his lips as he replies. “that it is.” He picks his drink back up and takes a generous gulp. Just like you hoped he would.

You both continue to chat, Surkov finishing off his drink and ordering another. And then after 10 minutes he starts to sway slightly on his feet, slurring his words and looking a little flushed.

“Are you alright?” You inquire, feigning concern. He just nods erratically in response, but doesn’t offer any verbal reply. “Do you need to go take some air?” You ask, as you tentatively take a step towards him. “You’re looking a little off colour.” He just silently nods again and you offer him your arm, giving him what little balance support you can, and then lead him towards the back exit. Which leads to a set of stairs and then some hallways and finally into a large courtyard, where Bucky and Sam will be waiting for you.

You throw Steve a look with a slight nod as you pass him, telling him to inform the guys that you’re on the way outside. And he nods back once, in confirmation.

You exit the ballroom into a long corridor, hearing Steve’s voice in your ear, “Buck, Sam, Harper is making her way to you both.” You smile to yourself at the sound of his deep voice, hearing Buck and Sam’s acknowledgement of his words shortly after. You go down the hall a bit then through a door that leads to a set of stairs. You caustiously and carefully help Surkov down them and then through another door, making a left once through. And then heading down another long hallway, towards the final doors that will lead you both outside.

But as you are slowly making your way, finding it rather hard to maneuver the giant half asleep man, you feel his hand shift on your arm. And then all of a sudden your back is slammed into the wall, his large right hand on your throat, firmly pining you in place. You were caught completely off guard, which isn’t like you, at all. You are usually always alert, always vigilant. And you normally never underestimate your opponents. But, unfortunately, this time you had. “Who do you work for?” He growls directly in your face.

You put both hands up in front of you, trying to show you aren’t a threat. “I-Ingenx I-Inc,” you stutter out, playing up Kelly’s fear. While Y/N devises a plan.

“Bullshit!” He yells, yanking you forward then promptly slamming you back into the wall. You quickly clasp your hands together, covertly removing the ring off your finger. “I’ll only ask one more time, who do you work for?”

And just as he finishes the words, you secretly slip your ring into my suit jacket pocket, and then turn your body quickly to the left, as your right hand comes up and your palm slams into his wrist. Knocking his hand off your throat and then you promptly elbow him in the neck, with your already lifted and primed right arm. And before he can even comprehend what is going on, you bend down, yanking up the bottom of your dress, and remove the small handgun you have strapped to your right ankle. Then aim it directly at his head. “I work for a very interested party, who wants nothing more then to see a disgusting prick like you behind bars,” you click off the safety, “now get on your knees and put your hands on your head. Nice and slow, Surkov.”

He glares at you and is just about to lower himself down, when a door near the end of the hall opens and a few rather large and unfriendly looking chaps emerge. Guns drawn and raised in their hands. And then they all take aim at you and begin to fire, you spin and quickly throw yourself into a small door alcove. Gun clasped tightly in both hands in front of your face, posed and ready to fire should any of them come for you.

You take a moment to try to steady your breathing, while bullets loudly embed into the walls surrounding you. Then with a deep breath in, you drop down to a crouch and lean out from your hiding place to return fire, managing to take out two of Surkov’s henchmen and then tuck back into the alcove to stand. Knowing that trick would only work once, you try to come up with any sort of plan to escape. You only have so many bullets on you, and at this rate you are going to use them all in no time flat.

You startle when you hear Bucky’s voice over the comms, having almost completely forgotten about your ear piece, “Harper, are you okay?”

“Is she not there yet?” Steve asks, concern laced in his voice.

You release one hand on the gun and raise it to your ear piece, “I’m okay, but I seem to have gotten myself into a bit of a jam.”

“Where are you? What happened?” Steve quickly asks, already sounding like he is in motion.

“In the lower hallway to the courtyard, the sedatives didn’t work, and he brought back up,” you rattle off then pause, leaning out again to return fire momentarily, so you can count the henchmen. And thanks to your stellar marksmanship skills, you manage to take a third henchman out while at it.

“How many?” Tony asks hastily, while you are in the midst of figuring that out.

Once tucked back into the alcove you continue, “there are only 7 of the buggers left, and all with truly appalling aim,” you scoff. “Though best be careful when you enter the hall, they do have full control of it at the moment.”

“Where are you, exactly?” Steve questions.

“Tucked into an alcove about half way down.”

“Good, stay there, we’re coming for you.”

You barely even have time to release a relieved sigh when a door, down near where you had originally entered the hall, bursts open, followed by the sound of another door bursting open at the other end. Then as if seeing land for the first time after weeks at sea, you catch sight of the iconic shield coming down the hall towards you. Watching as bullets ping and ricochet off it as if they were mere balls of paper.

And in no time at all, Steve is sliding into the already cramped alcove with you. “I heard someone needed some assistance,” he says playfully through a grin, though you can see the worry deeply etched into his face and eyes. He raises his shield to block you both from the hall, in case a bullet ricochets off a nearby wall.

The shield basically makes a small enclosed space for you both, causing you to become acutely aware of just how close you are to each other. Steve is almost the same width as the alcove and damn near just as tall, so there isn’t much room to work with currently. But you aren’t about to complain about having the handsome super soldier pressed up against you. Though you will complain that you wish it was due to more personal reasons, preferably ones that involve less clothes, and less of a potential for death.

“Splendid timing,” you smile up at him. Just then all the gun firing and commotion stops, and you hear Tony call from down the hall, “all clear you two.” Steve lowers the shield and you both step out of your hiding place and into the open hallway, the henchmen’s bodies all lying in various places along the hall.

“Is Surkov one of these?” Steve asks as you both make your way towards Tony, stepping over the bodies and checking for your guy as you do.

“No, he wasn’t in the hall when we arrived,” Tony responds and you glance up to notice him in his full Iron Man get up, minus the face piece.

Steve quickly lifts his hand to his comms, “Sam, Buck, please tell me you guys have Surkov?”

The comms channel opens up, and gunshots can be heard in the background along with Sam’s breathy voice, “we almost had him Cap, but the asshole brought heavy back up. If you guys don’t have anything better to do in there, we could really use a hand out here.”

Upon hearing the gun fire, you sigh deeply, knowing the smart thing to do right now would be to leave this to the Avengers. You really should head back to the expo and leave out the front. You aren’t even supposed to be here, and getting into a melee outside and in public isn’t a smart move. At all. But one glance up at Steve, and you know you can’t just walk away now. You owe it to them to help, and you also owe it to yourself to put Surkov behind bars. He has seen your face, if he gets away now you will have to forever be looking over your shoulder. And that’s not something you’re even remotely interested in.

So it’s settled then, you will see this through till the end. You bend down and quickly removed your heels, knowing they will only hinder you. Then you shed an internal tear for what you are about to do. “Bugger, I was really looking forward to wearing this again,” you mumble as you remove the hidden knife that’s attached to your left ankle, and then cut a vertical slit into the bottom of your beautiful, and expensive gown, then with both hands you pull apart. Tearing it to midway up your left thigh, instantly allowing you a way better range of motion.

You tuck the knife back away, grab your clutch off the floor then stand back up. Quickly retrieving your phone, then discarding the handbag, full of fake personal items, back on the ground. It was just a prop to distract Surkov, nothing in the handbag is of any value, or can help anyone locate you. Once that is done you glance up at Steve, who is just watching you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Like I’m going to let you chaps have all the fun,” you sass with a grin, tucking your phone into Steves pants pocket. “Hold on to that for me, would ya? It may come in handy later.”

Steve chuckles, “will do,” then he raises his hand once again and says, “on our way, guys,” as he starts to run towards the exit doors. Tony right in front of him and you hot on his heels.

Tony’s face piece forms back in place as the three of you burst out the doors, Steve's shield blocking you both as Tony thrusts up into the air. You glance up momentarily to watch him, and notice Sam up there as well. The guys clearly came fully prepared.

You focus back on the mission at hand, and start shooting any henchmen foolish enough to get in front of you. And as you are taking out a rather stupid henchman, you see Surkov hopping into a car. You reach up to click the comms button, “he’s getting away.”

“We got him,” Tony replies as he takes off at full speed to chase the car, Sam hot on his trail.

You, Steve and Bucky make quick work of the remaining henchmen and then are left in complete silence, no sight of Tony or Sam anywhere.

“What do we do now, Cap?” Bucky asks as he approaches you both, a massive assault rifle in his flesh hand. Steve is just about to click his comms device, most likely to ask where the two others are. But you halt him, then without breaking eye contact with him, you reach into his pocket and pull out your phone.

Receiving a curious look from Steve and then you glance at Bucky and see him shake his head, a smirk on his lips. “I believe now is the time that this,” you wiggle the phone, “will come in handy.” You quickly unlock it and then open the tracking app, bring up a map with a little red blinking light on a location a few blocks away. “I might have slipped my tracking device into his pocket,” you smile smugly at the lads, as you show them your phone screen.

“Can we keep her?” Bucky whispers through a laugh. And Steve only chuckles at his friends question, but doesn’t answer as he takes your phone to look more closely at it.

“They are 2 blocks over,” Steve comments as he hands it back to you, a smirk on his lips, “looks like we’ll have to leg it.” You giggle at his British term and then you all ‘leg it’ to the location where Surkov is.

And just as you reach the spot, you find his car crashed and on it’s roof, while Tony and Sam have him out of it and laying face down and cuffed on the ground—Which is a little anticlimactic and a bit of a piss off, if you’re being honest. You were really looking forward to catching the prick yourself, but he is apprehended nonetheless. So all and all, you are pleased. Sort of.

But now that they have him, your mission here is done. You slowly move away from the commotion and see a taxi nearing you. You lift a hand to flag it down, and just as you open the door you turn and lock eyes with Steve. Giving him a smirk and a small nod as you get into the taxi to leave.

This wasn’t exactly how you envisioned this night playing out, but you were happy it was all over with. And now you can go back to the hotel, pack up your things and then go home for a while. Or at least until you are debriefed and shipped off to the next mission location. But just as the taxi is pulling away you hear Tony’s voice ring in your ear, one last time, “hey kid, if you ever find yourself in New York, look us up.”

“That will probably be sooner, rather than later,” you giggle, then continue, “as I’ll need to trade this posh little comms device for my pearl ring. Keep it safe for me, will ya?”

“Pearl ring?” Tony asks, confused.

“Which pocket is it in?” Steve questions. And you reply, “his left jacket pocket. I’d be rather unhappy to lose it, it’s quite important to me.”

“Got it,” Steve replied after a moment, “and don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe for ya.”

“Thank you, Steve. Stay safe lads.” “You too,” Steve replies.

Tony, Bucky and Sam all say their goodbyes, and then with that you turn the comms device off and pull it out of your ear. And just as the taxi slips away into the night, one thought floats through your mind. You’re really going to miss those lads. But especially Steve.

3 MONTHS LATER - IN AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION.

You are running down a corridor, gun in hand, and chest heaving from the exertion. You are currently hot on the heels of yet another smarmy prick. One who thought it would be fun to attempt to plot world domination. These utter pillocks will just never learn.

You come to a corner, and halt, knowing to check before you go any further. You aren’t interested in gaining any new ventilation holes today. You raise your gun and peek around the corner, seeing the bloody idiot still running down the hall. You take a second to calm yourself then aim and shoot, hitting him in the upper leg, and knocking him down to the ground in a mess of limbs and curse words. You step out from behind the corner, and hastily make your way towards him, kicking the gun away from his reach once you get there.

“Good try, chap,” you say as you pat his shoulder, pressing your right knee down onto the middle of his upper back, “but you were a tad bit slow on the exit.”

He says some rather unpleasant things back to that, but you just ignore him and quickly cuff his hands behind his back, just as another person rounds the corner. You glance over your shoulder and see Tony, in his full Iron Man get up, and smile smugly at him. “Got him.”

“I can see that,” he replies through a laugh. “Well done, Harper,” he says the name sarcastically, just like before, which causes you to giggle.

You stand up, and pull the prick up with you as you do, then start to make your way back to the exit. “Ya know,” you drawl, as you hand the prick off to Tony, “you don’t actually have to call me that anymore.”

He smirks, “it’s sort of grown on me now.”

“Of course it has,” you shake your head. “So, how did I do?”

“Consider yourself hired,” he smiles and starts to pull the imbecile down the hall towards the exit, yelling over his shoulder as he goes, “that is, if you’re still interested.”

You grin widely, and once Tony is out of eye shot you do a little happy dance in the middle of the empty hallway. Then reign in your excitement level and make your way to the exit as well. Now you have to go home and pack!

1 WEEK LATER.

You walk into the posh lobby of the Avengers Tower, still not even able to comprehend that you now work here. You are now an Avenger, and you haven’t been able to wipe the grin off your face all week. You shake your head in disbelief as you make your way towards the front desk, Tony had informed you just to give them your name and they’ll set you up with a clearance pass.

You reach the desk and give the gorgeous woman your name, she quickly looks it up and then smiles up at you as she hands you your pass, pointing to the lifts off to the side and telling you the floor number. You thank her and then head for them.

The lift doors open up on the correct floor and you are just about to step off, when a body pushes you back in and enters the lift with you. And you are just about to show this prick why it isn’t smart to sneak up on an ex MI6 agent/current Avenger, when you realize it’s Tony. And he has a massive smirk on his lips, as if he knew you were just about to kick his ass into next week.

“You wanted your eye to match your suit colours, didn’t you?” You grin at him.

“I do always like to colour coordinate,” he chuckles and clicks a new floor button. “Welcome to New York, kid. How was the trip over the pond?”

“Long and uneventful,” you nod once.

“Everyone is gathered in the living space, he still has no clue that you are even here. Let alone that you now work with us,” Tony smirks wickedly at you.

About 2 months after the weapons expo in London, you’d gone to New York for a mission and had stopped off to exchange the comms device for your ring. Tony had secretly approached you and offered you a job with them, and you’d agreed to interview for it. Except, when it came to becoming a superhero, a regular, stuffy boardroom interview just wouldn’t cut it. So you’d finally had to cave and tell Tony your real name, plus give him all your actual contact information, and then he said he’d be in touch doon. So then 3 weeks later, he called you up about a small, simple mission that he would be doing alone. Hunting down a prick who was attempting world domination—Yeah, that guy you shot in the leg.

You had agreed almost immediately to do the mission with Tony as your interview. And holy shite! You might be an Avenger soon! But more importantly, you had managed to not squeal like an idiot at the offer! Though you’d only managed to hold it in until you hung up the phone. But that’s neither here, nor there.

The other Avengers all knew a new agent named Y/N was being interviewed, but not where the agent had come from. But it’s not like most of them would even know who you were, if they did know. However, Sam and Bucky both knew who you were, and were sworn to secrecy weeks ago by Tony, as he wanted to surprise Steve. That or they all just wanted to mess with him some more. With these lads it could be either or, really.

So he had no clue you’d even been offered a job, let alone taken it, passed with flying colours and had been hired on the spot. Nor was he currently aware you were even here. In the United States. In New York. In the tower. In the bloody lift, for crying out loud!

And now here you are, riding up with thee Tony Stark, AKA Iron Man, AKA your new boss. On your way to surprise Steve. And bloody hell! Can this lift not go any faster! You just want to get there already. “I can’t wait to see his face,” you smirk back just as the doors open up into a large, posh living area. Seeing all the Avengers lounging around, chatting and relaxing.

You smile as you see Bucky and Sam, both with knowing grins on their faces. You nod to them and then your excited eyes meet Steves curious blue ones, and you almost want to burst out laughing or bounce in place, because you are THAT excited to see him. You and Steve had kept in touch over the last 3 months, talking damn near daily either via text or over voice calls, when you both had the time for them that is. So you’d grow very close with the handsome super soldier, you’d even go as far as to say you were good friends now. Maybe even more.

He is just about to stand up when Tony loudly clears his throat next to you, “alright, as all of you know,” he glances at Steve, “well everyone, except Capsicle. This is our newest member,” he turns to you, “I’ll let her introduce herself, as her accent is much cooler than mine.” He smiles and gestures for you to go.

“Hello everyone, my name is Y/N Y/L/N,” you wave, “and I’m so utterly thrilled to be here.” Everyone comes over and introduces themselves, chatting you up a bit before they leave the room, heading off to go do whatever it is they do in their spare time. The last few to greet you are Sam and Bucky, both hugging you tightly and giving you a warm welcome then leaving as well. So now the only two left in the room are Steve and you. He comes over to you and you grin widely up at him, “hiya Steve.”

He chuckles, “hey Y/N.“ And the sound of your actual name falling from his lips, for the first time in person, makes butterflies instantly erupt in your tummy. “So, I was the only one who didn’t know, huh? And more importantly, when did this all come together?” He asks as he gestures around the room.

“Are you asking when this room was built?” You glance around, then continue to reply cheekily, “now that I’m not too sure about, you’d have to ask Tony.”

He shakes his head, but smiles at your horrible joke nonetheless, “I mean, when did Tony approach you about joining the team? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Don’t look at me, it was Tony’s idea to keep it a secret from you, and we all know what Tony wants, he gets,” you giggle. “But you remember when I visited last month, yeah?” You ask and he nods, so you continue on, “well during my visit Tony offered me a job. Then a week ago I did my interview and now here we are.”

“So you did well on the interview, I take it?” He smirks.

You scoff playfully, “of course I did. Have we not met?” You laugh and stick your right hand out, “Hello, I’m Y/N,” you jokingly introduce yourself.

He chuckles and shakes your hand—and of course you have the same reaction as the first time he did. The instant need to melt into a puddle. “Steve. And it’s truly an honour to meet you, Y/N.”

You giggle at the use of that darn line again, but before you can say a word back, Steve speaks up again. “If you don’t have any other plans, would you like to go grab a coffee with me?” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly then adds, “ya know, like a date.”

“‘Like’ a date?” You repeat, raising a questioning brow at him.

“Is a date,” he clarifies.

You smile up at this big beautiful tower of a man, and nod, “then that sounds like a splendid idea, Steve.”

He smiles widely and offers you his arm, which you instantly accept and then you both head for the lift. Off to enjoy your first date with Steve—a date for which you hope there are many, many more to follow. But as long as you have any say in the matter, there will be. Because you’d have to be off your damn trolley if you ever let this wonderful man get away now.

And If London Should Ring, looking for you to return, you’ll just tell them that you’re busy, from now until forever.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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