Liar

Kennedy walked alongside Steve on the sidewalk, her boots occasionally scuffing the ground. The clean-up crews had done a fairly good job in getting things running as normally as possible. The streets and sidewalks were cleared at least. There were a few buildings temporarily closed for damages but most people had, as was usual for New York, gotten their lives up and running again.

“Coffee sound good to you?” Kennedy asked as they walked.

“You don’t have some business elsewhere to set off to complete?” Steve replied dryly.

“You’re my business. And if my business wants coffee, he’d better let me know because I want coffee.”

Kennedy looked up at Steve to find his lips slightly twisted in the hint of a smirk. Her hand reached up to comb her lightened bangs from her face before lowering once more.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Steve,” she said a moment later. “So you might as well get used to me.”

“I could just tolerate you. No one stays around forever,” Steve replied before growing quiet.

Kennedy’s blue eyes flicked in his direction for a moment before she looked ahead of them. Her hands slid into the pockets of her jacket silently. Neither said anything as they shuffled through the crowds on the side walk. There was enough noise going on around them that the silence was only slightly less awkward than it would have been.

She opened her mouth once or twice to say something but nothing ever came out. Instead, they continued walking down the sidewalk until Kennedy finally just chose a coffee shop. She walked inside with Steve following after her, his muscular form dwarfing hers as they stepped inside.

They both ordered with Steve tossing down a few bills before she could reach into her back pocket. Kennedy glanced up at him briefly before picking up her cup and walking out to one of the outdoor tables. She lowered herself into a chair, carefully adjusting her slightly slumped position because of her ribs, while Steve sat opposite her.

She picked up the abandoned pen on the table and clicked it a few times. Steve’s blue eyes glanced at in what looked like slight annoyance before he took a sip of his coffee. A wry smirk stretched her lips briefly.

“So…what do you think?” Click.

“Of what?” Steve asked, looking at her.

Kennedy’s eyes almost started to roll. “My hair.” Click. “The world, Captain.” Click.

His eyes narrowed in brief annoyance before he took another sip of coffee. Kennedy picked up her own cup and took a drink. She shifted in her seat, legs crossing, before reaching back and adjusting her gun.

“It’s noisier. Colder.”

“Colder, how?” Click.

The corners of his lips twitched in the hint of a scowl. Kennedy feigned ignorance at her attempts to annoy him while watching him. The fingers of her left hand drummed briefly beside her coffee cup on the table.

Steve glanced around slowly, his blue eyes resting longer on the people who were absorbed in various electronic devices. Kennedy’s eyes followed his, taking in everything before she looked back to him. He was waiting on her, hands in lap while he watched her.

“So you’re saying technology ruined us?” Click. Steve’s eyes twitched in annoyance. “Made us more apathetic and self-absorbed? Is that why you’re feeling so bitter about all of this?” Click.

“I’m not bitter,” Steve snapped.

“Oh, yes, you are,” Kennedy said with another click of the pen. “You hate this place, Steve. You’d prefer to be in the 1940s with your friends again, in a world you know with people who understand you.” Click. “I’m not a scientist but I’m willing to bet that serum would have done the same thing then as it did in the ice.

“Your aging would have slowed. Your friends would have gotten old and died without you. You don’t like it here because you have no one. Your friends are either dead or living out their final years in retirement. You, however, are still physically in your prime. You were cheated out of what? Sixty, almost seventy years of life? Yeah, that’s a lot to be bitter about, Steve.

“That’s plenty of reason to hate this place. I don’t blame you. I’d hate it. But you know what? You can’t do anything about it. You’re stuck here. You don’t want to give this place a chance because you’ve already made up your mind about it. I understand being disoriented and lost because you’ve suddenly leapt through sixty something years of advancements but still.

“The most you can do right now is try. You can try to get to know the people you could, very likely, be stuck with for several years to come. You can try to accept the fact that people and the world change. The world kept on spinning while you were under. But let me tell you what you cannot do. You cannot keep up this fake happy face you’ve got going on while pulling this emo bull shit, okay? If you hate this place, don’t bottle it up. The world sucks, we need a new plague. For now, we have to deal. Okay?”

And just because she could, Kennedy clicked the pen again. Steve reached forwards suddenly, his long arm stretching across the table, and snatched the pen from her grasp. She looked over at him before picking up her coffee and taking a sip.

She was well-aware of the fact that they were in public but wasn’t worried. Everyone was too absorbed in their smart phones, iPods and iPads to notice. She was more worried about the fact that this incident could land her in hot water with Fury. And if Steve was a sensitive little snowflake, she could possibly be well and truly fucked.

Out of slight nervousness, Kennedy fiddled with the dog tags hanging from her neck.

“I’m guessing you missed the sensitivity training sessions during your recruitment,” Steve, finally, remarked dryly.

“I’m blunt…kind of bitchy,” Kennedy shrugged before internally wincing. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.”

Steve shrugged slightly. “Doesn’t matter. It’s mostly true. It’s probably the most honest thing that I’ve heard since I woke up.”

“Just a warning, don’t try to lie to me and make me believe that you’re transitioning here nicely. I know that game and it’s not going to fly, okay? If I had better things to do, I would be doing them so don’t think you’re doing me any favors,” Kennedy said in warning.

“Are you always so defensive? Or hostile?” Steve asked.

“You’ll find out,” Kennedy shrugged before glancing up as a waitress came up.

“I’m sorry about the mess out here,” she said as she filled Steve’s cup. “That whole incident a few days ago…we haven’t had much time to clean up.”

“It’s fine,” Steve replied while Kennedy sipped at hers. “As long as it doesn’t mess up the coffee, I have no complaints.”

Kennedy’s eyes flicked between the blonde waitress and Steve slowly. She couldn’t tell if Steve was flirting or just being a nice person in general. The waitress was definitely interested. Kennedy’s eyebrows rose slightly but she said nothing and continued to sip at her coffee.

“Do you need a refill?” The waitress asked.

Kennedy’s eyes flicked to the blonde’s nametag that read Beth before looking back to her face.

“No, thanks, I’m good.”

Nodding the waitress wandered off to finish her rounds. Kennedy glanced over at Steve before smirking. She knocked back the rest of her coffee before sitting forward in her chair. Her arms folded, resting on the table top.

“She’s cute,” Kennedy commented nonchalantly.

“She’s pretty,” Steve nodded before glancing over in Kennedy’s direction. “I don't need you to play Cupid.”

“Now, whatever would give you that idea?” Kennedy asked as she got to her feet.

She tossed a few bills in tip on table before pinning them down with her empty coffee cup. With her chair pushed under the table, Kennedy leaned against it and waited for Steve to get to his feet. He added three one dollar bills to the money already there before adding his mug on the uncovered ends of the bills.

“You had to do that, didn’t you?” Kennedy asked as they reached the sidewalk.

“It’s only fair,” he replied. Click.

Kennedy had forgotten that he had the pen.

“But I can’t pay for my coffee? Because, if I recall correctly-” Click. “-you paid for my coffee too. Which means I tip.” Click.

“I was being a gentleman.” Click.

Kennedy’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “Don’t pay for my coffee unless I ask, okay? It’s weird.”

Click. “Sure thing.” Click.

She could hear the smirk in his voice. Kennedy didn’t even have to look at him to know that he would be smirking.

“You are infuriating.”

“You are too.”

Click.