Pound of Flesh

“Excuse me? Excuse me! Hey! Blondie!” Steve and DJ snap their heads up. “Or both of you. Interview?”

They exchange glances, looking wearily over at the man in a crisp suit leaning over the barricade. Steve sighs, mumbling, “Good press.”

The reporter knows he’s won when they sport poorly hidden pouts and scuffle over. He grins, thumbing the button on his tape recorder. “Can I get your names?”

“Captain America.”

“Revenant.”

He rolls his eyes. “Your real names.”

“You’re not very polite for somebody who wants us to stop cleaning up rubble to talk to you,” DJ sasses right back. “If Captain America was going to walk around handing out his name he wouldn’t be wearing a cowl. I’m DJ. That’s all you get.”

“Why is Captain America the only one who hides behind a mask?” He jumps on it like a dog with a bone. “Even Tony Stark flaunts his identity. Thor causes a stir just by being a God. Banner is labeled a public threat by hundreds of different organizations world-wide. Romanoff and Barton are at the most risk just by being ordinary people. And we’ll have worked out Revenant’s full name by the end of the work day. What makes Captain America such a coward?”

DJ flushes red with anger. “A coward? Did you just allow yourself to be swallowed by a giant slug, asshole? Because I’m pretty sure that was Cap. I don’t think wanting a little privacy makes anyone a coward.”

“I didn’t mean any disrespect,” the reporter clarifies, but he doesn’t sound very sorry. “I just meant that Captain America is the press’s favorite good boy. What does he do on his time off that he doesn’t want people to know about?”

Steve shrugs a little shyly. “I don’t do anything. I draw.”

“He has a hard enough time getting his team to cooperate and follow some modicum of the rules; he doesn’t need to tip-toe around the paparazzi, too. And he’s not shameless like Tony. If someone started spreading awful rumors it would hurt him. He’s a paragon of virtue even when he’s not wearing the costume.”

The reporter holds his hands out defensively. “Alright. Point taken. But until we’ve been proven otherwise, the magazine will have to assume he’s horribly ugly.”

“Come on, man. The mask covers like thirty percent of his face. You totally know he’s not ugly.”

He barks out a laugh. “Yeah. You’re right. All the women at work are always swooning over his strong jawline. You don’t wanna know what the guys say about you. You two are like crime fighting Barbie and Ken.”

DJ narrows her eyes and gives him a nasty smile. “Barbie wouldn’t tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“And she would,” Steve tells him, as if he couldn’t figure it out on his own, with a smug smirk.

“None of you like to take compliments,” the reporter pulled a sour face. “Romanoff pepper sprayed me once.”

DJ hums, trying not to be too amused. “You were lucky then. Anything else?”

“Is it true you’re dating Stark?”

“No. Is that rumor still going around? We eat together occasionally. We’re friends. It’s a thing. He’s with Pepper.” She stops him before he can open his mouth again. “And before you ask I’m not with any of the other Avengers, either… Men and women can coexist in a purely professional capacity.”

He clicks off his recorder and gives her a smarmy smile. “Are you interested in dinner then? With me?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t tell you to fuck off.”

Steve puts his hand on her lower back and starts to lead them away, calling over his shoulder, “And she is.”

“I don’t think that was actually good press,” DJ comments as they start to meander back towards the tower.

“You said I was virtuous and asserted the fact that we’re professionals. It could’ve been worse.”

She huffs a laugh. “You’re right. They could’ve interviewed Tony.”

“You handled it better than you think,” he assured. “His questions were trite. And offensive. He was an ass. But you didn’t have to get upset on my behalf.”

“Don’t be stupid. Just because we’re not screwing anymore doesn’t mean I don’t still love you.” She ignores his wince and powers forward. “I’d still do anything for you, Steve. Defending your ‘honor’ isn’t really that big of a deal.”

They reach the elevator and Steve swipes off his cowl. “But was he right? Just a little? About hiding behind the mask? Because sometimes I wonder why I’ve been ordered to remain anonymous. It didn’t used to be that way.“

“Steve. No. Of course he’s not right.” She reaches out to stroke his cheek but stops halfway there, remembering that’s not something she can do anymore. Her fingers hang awkwardly in the air for a moment before her arm drops back down to her side. “You’re having a hard enough time adjusting to the twenty-first century, you don’t need people speculating what you believe, trying to take advantage of your old-fashioned belief system to get you to back their ideals. And if you stood up and told people you were frozen for seventy years and really originated in the forties, do you think they’d believe you? Do you think they’d take you seriously after that? Because aliens and sorcerers and robots might be something they can handle because they’ve seen it, but a ninety-something man who looks like a very good twenty-five isn’t going to be accepted without a lot of evidence and conjecture.”

Steve’s lips give a lopsided curl and he shuffles a half-step closer. She can feel his body heat rolling over her, almost as hot as his gaze. “You’re good at that.”

“What?” She was distracted by the way one of his hands ghosted down the side of her arm.

“Saying the right thing. Making people feel better.” His other hand comes up to rest against her neck, thumb hooked under her jaw.

Her breath catches and she fights to keep her eyes from fluttering shut. “And you’re bad at this.”

“What?”

“Breaking up with somebody.” She knocks his hand away and steps off the elevator.

Steve’s not far behind, a slight flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “It, um, it doesn’t have to be uncomfortable like it is with Tony and Pepper. We can still be friends.”

“Okay. Great. That’d be awesome. But that? The touching? Not what friends do.”

DJ doesn’t stop walking, doesn’t look back at him while she talks, so Steve grabs at her wrist to stop her. It’s a bit more forceful than he intends, because when he plants his feet DJ’s jerked back against him with enough momentum that they end up as a heap on the floor. She groans, wiggling under his weight, and Steve quickly pushes up on his elbows to relieve the pressure. “Er, sorry.”

She shifts her hips and Steve moans, a hand shooting down to her waist to stop the friction. Their eyes lock and- yeah. There’s the heat again. DJ licks her suddenly dry lips and Steve shudders at the sight. Steve’s mouth inches down, barely brushing soft against hers when she starts to giggle.

“What? What now?”

“Sorry,” she sighs happily. “It’s just… It’s funny. Everyone thinks you’re this goodie two-shoes. They haven’t seen what you’re like in bed.”

Steve snorts and rolls so that he’s lying beside her on the floor. “Is that something a friend would say?”

“It depends what kind of friends you have. If you have a lot of friends like that, you probably shouldn’t tell me. I’d get jealous.”

He bumps her lightly in the side with his elbow. “You don’t need to be jealous. No one’s like you. I-“

“Stop it,” DJ orders firmly but not unkindly. “It’s better this way.”

“Is it?”

She rolls over onto her side, propping up on an elbow. “You made your choice, Steve, and that’s fine, but you can’t go back and forth with it. I can survive losing you. But only once. For what it’s worth, though…” Her free hands slides into one of his. “I do think it’s better this way. We’re too different. I’m damaged goods and you’re-“

“I’m not perfect,” he sounds almost irritated that he’d have to remind her.

DJ gives a bit of a grimace. “You never show me that you’re not.”

He wants to shake her and say maybe you’re not looking hard enough, but all that comes out is, “Because you always seem to want me to be.”

“Trust me, there’s nothing I’d love more than for you to be a total fuck-up.”

A loud crash from the other room cuts off any response Steve might have had. “Get the others over here, quick,” he orders as they both scramble to their feet.

“Comms are down,” she growls in frustration. “This is clearly karma for leaving the site before clean-up was finished.”

Steve holds an arm out to stop her before she can run and confront the intruder. “The alarm’s not going off.”

She pauses for a beat until it dawns on her. “So either Tony forgot his key and made a crash entrance, or it’s Doom.”

“Listen to me. And I mean really listen this time.” His hands are tight around her shoulders, probably bruising, and his eyes are steely and terrified at the same time. “He’s not going to hurt you, you’ve got something he wants. He won’t hurt me either because that will ruin his chances of you going willingly. He’s going to want you pliant and agreeable. But you’re Daisy, so you’re not going to be that way, are you? Are you?”

“N-no.”

“Good. So you’re going to very stubbornly hide behind me and let me hold him off until the others get back, alright?”

“Alright.” Because just the thought of being back in Doom’s hands turns her blood to ice.

Steve smiles shakily. “And one more thing-“

“Don’t do something stupid like say you love me or kiss me.” Her eyes start to swell with tears. “I’d have to punch you, because it’d sound an awful lot like goodbye.”

He gives her a hug instead, mumbling against her cheek. “Not goodbye. I’m not done with you yet.”

The lights flickered as they slowly rounded the corner, finding Doom waiting patiently in the middle of a sea of broken window shards. Even through his stoic face plate he looks bored. “This is the best the world has to offer?”

“You have no idea,” DJ puts on a brave face, standing a few paces behind Steve, as instructed.

Doom huffs a dark laugh. “I do actually. I know everything about them. SHIELD should really invest in paper documents from now on.” He turns his unimpressed gaze to Steve. “Steve Rogers. Resident man out of time. I have something that might fix that.”

“Not interested in anything you have to offer,” Steve grounds out through clenched teeth.

“Noble,” Doom spits out like it’s a disease. “I thought you had better taste than that, Daisy. I thought you liked your men with a little less backbone. I can remove his, if you’d like.”

She tries to hide the tremor in her voice, coming out unsuccessful. “You lay a hand on him and you’ll be sorry.”

“Will I?” Doom mocks. “Because you have to know that I’ve come prepared if you’re cowering behind your little boyfriend. Sorry, ex-boyfriend. The brawn got some brains and left before you could drag him down like everyone else.”

“Don’t talk to her,” Steve snaps, raising his shield offensively. “I don’t know what you have planned, but she’s not going anywhere with you.”

Doom huffs a cruel laugh. “I’ve been watching, you know. You think nobody sees you, but I do. You swoon after her like a pathetic child. You don’t even know where to look when she’s wearing that silly costume. You love her, so you let her go because you think it’ll keep her from loving you- make her less vulnerable. But it didn’t work, and me and her have a deal. It is conditional, however.”

“Yeah, I heard. She goes with you and you won’t hurt me. I’m flattered to get that sort of consideration, but I’m not afraid of you.” Steve slings his shield, but it gets knocked aside by a blast of energy. With one quick lunge he has Doom pinned against the wall with an arm against his chest.

“How conceited,” Doom replies drolly. “You’re not the only one she cares about. You’ve met sweet little Dana, haven’t you Captain? Very pretty, but not very bright. She walks home alone very late every night. It’d be a shame if someone stepped out of the shadows to accost her. Snap that weak neck of hers. Would you really stand in the way of her sister’s safety? More importantly, do you think Daisy would let you?”

Steve’s grip slacked for only a half second and before he knew it he was crumpling to the floor in pain. Doom strode over to where DJ stood in resignation, cold metal fingers curling around her throat. Steve uses the wall for support as he struggles back to his feet, heart pumping fast, eyes wide in worry. “Get your hands off of her.”

“Steve,” he voice is soft and sad. Defeated. Because she’s got an awful headache and she can feel the tickle of blood in her ears, but she’s not going anywhere. And she’s terrified but nothing’s even hinting at thrashing around the room. “I don’t know if he stole the plans from Tony or if he developed his own, but he’s got atom stabilizers. My powers won’t work.”

“What do you mean stole the plans from Tony?” Steve forces his legs to work, fighting against the waves of pain left over from the shock. “Stark went behind my back and… How could he…”

DJ gives a shuddering sigh, moving willingly into Doom’s hold. “That’s not important now, Steve, and you know it. Don’t ignore this, don’t pretend it’s not bad just because you’re upset that you can’t fix it. I have to go. It’s me or my family, Steve. You’d make the same choice. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t.”

“We can keep them safe,” Steve disputes hotly, reaching out for her hand as Doom clamps down on her other. “You’re not alone anymore, remember?”

“But I am.” And that sounds more like goodbye than any ‘I love you’ he could give her. “In this I am. You can’t watch them twenty-four seven. Not while keeping yourselves safe. And there are always more people Doom can get to, because without meaning to I left behind a trail of people I care about while I was out running away from the world.”

Doom tugs her against him and her fingers slip out of Steve’s.

“It’s okay, though. He wouldn’t come for me now unless he was planning something big, right? So the way I look at it, there are two outcomes.” She tries to smile, but it’s a fragile gesture. “It’ll end up killing me, or you guys will save me. Either way I won’t suffer for long.”

She’s dragged with her feet out from under her towards the gaping window.

“I’ll do my best, Steve. I promise. I’m not the same person I used to be.” Her and Doom teeter on the ledge. “I’ll see you soon.”

They tip backwards and fall out of sight, leaving Steve colder than even seventy years on ice.