Summary: Sharon Carter takes Steve out for dinner, and it’s not quite what he expected.
Notes: I can’t believe this story hasn’t been done about a million times by people much better than me, but just in case it hasn’t, here is my take on it. I suppose this technically is compliant with the MCU so far since we have no idea what happens AFTER Civil War yet, so I can just make that stuff up. :) Also, for the comic book readers, I stole about three lines directly from a Steve/Sharon scene. :)
I don’t know if this needs a rating. There is a bit of innuendo and some making out, but this is not smut at all.
is apparently a Russian Pickle Soup and according to Google translation,
ужина = After dinner.
Thanks for reading!
Steve Rogers stood in front of one of the giant floor to
ceiling windows in his living room, taking in the view of Brooklyn and the City
of New York beyond. When he finally
decided to move to Brooklyn, he didn’t expect Tony Stark to get into realty and
buy an entire building, but that is exactly what he did. He knew that Tony offered him this apartment at
a steep discount partially out of guilt, but he also knew that it would only
push them further apart if he turned his back on the gesture so they haggled
back and forth and finally came to a price that Steve could (barely) afford and
Tony was happy with. It was still way
under what Steve was sure the place was worth, but it allowed them both to save
face and he’d take it if it meant another step toward healing the rift between
This was nothing like the small Brooklyn apartment that he
grew up in. He was pretty sure that his
entire childhood apartment would fit in the living area here. However, it was as safe for him as anywhere
could be and the other residents left him alone excepting the
usual neighborly exchange of pleasantries when they were on the elevator with
him or passed him in the lobby. He also
couldn’t complain about the windows or the view. The natural light pouring in from every angle
was excellent for drawing. Something
he’d been doing a lot since there was a break from the madness of Avenging.
“Hey Buck? Which tie
should I wear?” He turned and held up
two options to his collar for his roommate’s inspection.
“Ah, you look like a punk in both of them if you ask me, but
I’d go with the blue one.”
Steve threw the green tie at him, hitting him in the face
with it before putting on the blue tie. “Thanks, Jerk.”
Spotting a 1968 Datsun 2000 in good condition was a nice treat. There are so many late 60s and early 70s American muscle cars from around but for our money, but the nimble Japanese and European imports from that period offer more bang for your buck.
Meanwhile, the 1988 Chevrolet Nova may not be a favorite of collectors, but that is precisely why we loved the one we saw in Reston, Virginia. It’s these kind of workaday cars that are usually neglected. Not so classics like the red 1967 Mercedes-Benz 250 SL parked in Tribeca. Cars like these are treasured by enthusiasts, collectors, and fashion photographers alike.
I had so much fun in VA I missed the environment so much. I loved getting my hair dripping wet as I ran through it. I missed the cool water on my skin during hot sticky days and the dirt and miss in between my toes. I missed seeing the quick bright glow of lightning and the intense crackle of thunder that followed. I missed looking up and seeing nothing but leaves from trees all around me. I missed hearing the birds chirp and the crickets sing. I missed the soul filling vibe and the moist smell after rainy days!
In 2001, Alan Webb was a senior at South Lakes High School in Reston, Virginia. He was also a distance runner who’d been winning races and breaking records since his freshman year. On May 27th, at a track meet in Oregon, Webb ran a mile in three minutes and 53.43 seconds.
He had broken four minutes in the mile before, clocking a 3:59.86 indoors on January 20, 2001, at the New York City Armory. The sub-4-minute mile is a hallowed mark that, to this date, separates the pros from the amateurs in middle-distance running. Only five high-school runners have ever done it: Jim Ryun was the first, in 1964, and he eventually set the high-school mile record at 3:55.3. No scholastic athlete could best that, until Webb came along. 3:53 is now the fastest mile an American high-school athlete has ever run.