Steven G. Rogers (
thekidfrombrooklyn) wrote2014-06-14 06:19 pm
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OOM: afternoon coffee
Even people who pride themselves on supporting independent shops end up at Starbucks sometimes.
There's one within walking distance of Steve and Orpheus's apartment -- there are more than one if you're up to walking a bit more -- so Steve brings Felix there, so he can see what it's all about if nothing else.
It's a quiet Sunday afternoon. Steve has his sketchbook, but he hasn't opened it yet in favor of looking through a copy of the Express someone left on the table instead.
There's one within walking distance of Steve and Orpheus's apartment -- there are more than one if you're up to walking a bit more -- so Steve brings Felix there, so he can see what it's all about if nothing else.
It's a quiet Sunday afternoon. Steve has his sketchbook, but he hasn't opened it yet in favor of looking through a copy of the Express someone left on the table instead.
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"Agent Carter is in a rest home in Virginia," Steve says quietly. "She's the only one left, besides me."
After a moment he explains to Felix, "We served together in World War II, and she helped found SHIELD, the organization I work for now. We were... very close, back in the day."
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American geography is still not a thing he's particularly well-versed in.
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We've both lost our homes; just in different ways.
He hesitates, unsure if his next question would press too much. "Have you been to see her?"
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He tries not to fiddle with the straw of his drink as he watches him.
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Then, with a wry quirk of his mouth -- I know this isn't really going to help, but it's all I've got -- he says, "If you come to Milliways after, I can make you some soup."
Months of cooking dinner for Louis, as Galactica falls apart on the other side of the door, has fostered some new instincts in Gaeta: when in doubt, feed somebody.
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"I'd love for you to make me some soup."
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It's the very least he can do, considering Steve opened his home to Gaeta.
"And, uh, in the meantime..." Very sheepishly, he holds out the remains of the frappucino. "Want the rest?"
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Beat.
"And that someone might be me, in smaller doses, every six months or so."
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The coffee he inadvertently stole yesterday was pretty good, after all.
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"Coffee to start," he says. "and..." A glance to the Express. It did say the exhibit wouldn't be opening for a while yet, so maybe it wouldn't be too awkward to ask:
"Do you think I could see that Air and Space Museum, too?"
It'd put some context to the awe that still gets thrown at him every so often: you lived in space?
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