𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 𝟎𝟏 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚛

               𝐈𝐓 was the night Tony had decided to host one of his famous parties after the Avengers had completed their mission to retrieve the sceptre. He was dressed nicely in an expensive suit, as were the other men in the room. The girls wore tight fitted dresses - some close friends, such as Maria Hill and of course Natasha Romanoff, but others wore their dresses too high, as if trying to gain the attention of the Superheroes. While enjoying a drink and a conversation with Bruce Banner, also known as being the hulk, he was abruptly distracted as his eyes drew to the girl entering the room. He could recognise her from a mile away. His sister. Or well, adopted sister in more accurate words.

"Lexie," he stumbled towards her, having had a few too many drinks of the fine alcohol Natasha was serving at the bar. "What are you doing here?" He asked her as he reached the point where she was helping him stand beside her.

"You called me remember. Plus I'm not allowed back at the hospital until I'm cleared by my therapist." She explained, knowing he wouldn't remember at the time being seen as though he was intoxicated.

"Oh right - the shooting. To be cleared by the therapist, you have to actually go see the therapist, Lex." He frowned, sobering up a little but his words shot a pain through her heart, reminding her of the event she never wanted to think about ever again. 
"I'm fine." She shook her head, forcing a bright smile onto her pretty face. Despite the two not actually being related, they had a few similar appearances, such as their extremely dark brown hair, which could almost be mistaken for black. Or their jaw lines, which were pretty much the same. Other than that, Lexie had more delicate features and paler skin tone with natural pink flushed cheeks.

"You must meet everyone, dear sister of mine." He began to drag her over to the bar. "And I will show you what myself and Dr. Banner have been working on."
"Maybe tomorrow Tones - you're a little drunk." She noted, chuckling a little as she took a drink off champagne of a platter.

"No I'm not." He denied. Tony was excellent at drinking a lot without having to experience the side affects, however she would much rather trust him to talk about science when he didn't have any alcohol in his system at all.

"Banner, meet Lexie." Tony announced loudly, making Lexie scrunch her nose up as she was right beside him.

"Oh, it's nice to meet you Lexie. Tony told me you were going to be visiting." Bruce turned to face them both, sat on a bar stool with a drink in hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Dr. Banner - I've heard all about your work. It's impressive." Lexie complimented him.

"Please, call me Bruce." He smiled softly at the young girl. "So, Tony mentioned you may be able to help on our project." He acknowledged back to when Tony was bragging to him about Lexie, which was when Bruce first found out that Tony had a sister.

"He definitely hopes so. I'm not so sure - I'm a Neurosurgeon." Lexie laughed a little as Tony left to bid people goodbye as the party was dying down.

"Yeah, I heard. Youngest Neurosurgeon Attending in the country." He nodded, lifting his drink up to take a sip. "Tony likes to brag." He added with a small chuckle.

"Was." She corrected him, her eyes lifting to the side as she tilted her head for a split second. He looked at her confused.

"Care to elaborate - I'm all ears." He offered, placing his drink down.

"I'm not allowed to go back to the hospital until my therapist clears me for Surgery. Which is pretty impossible considering I refuse to go see the therapist." She chuckled darkly, downing the rest of her drink and placing it back down. Bruce noticed the bitter tone in her voice and motioned for a bartender to pour her a drink stronger than champagne.

"Why do you need to be cleared for surgery by a therapist?" He asked curiously. She sighed, not wanting to relive what had happened just less than a month ago. "Sorry. Tough subject." He apologised after noticing her hesitant look to answer.

"I don't like to talk about it." She just told him simply, her voice almost like a whisper but still audible. She began to discreetly trace the scar on the back of her left hand with her index finger as it began to automatically shake ever so slightly.

Lexie spent most of her time talking to Bruce and Tony. She also had a quick catch up with Maria Hill, who she had meet on several occasions before. Bruce eventually left and went to talk to a redheaded woman while Lexie stayed at the bar, her knee bouncing up and down as she messed with the small glass in her slim fingers.
"You okay ma'am?" She turned her head, jumping a little as a familiar blonde man sat down beside her.

"I'm fine." She waved it off, tucking her hair behind her ear before going back to stare at the bar.

"You sure?" He nodded his head in the direction of her unstable hand. It wasn't shaking like crazy but she had been trying to stretch it beyond her limits. Thats what happened when your hand gets crushed while trying to save a patient from bleeding out after being shot while having a gun to your head. She took her other hand and placed it on the one shaking, embarrassed. She avoid eye contact with him while holding her hand, stilling it. She hummed, nodding her head.

"Mmhmm."

"I'm Steve," he stared at the side of her head, trying to get her to look back up at him. It was if he was mesmerised by her warm brown doe shaped eyes.

"I know. I-" she began to stutter but he cut her off.

"Read about me?" He turned in his seat so he was sat facing the bar.

"Sure," Lexie sighed, half lying, still braving her positive brightness despite wanting to desperately leave the party.
"So, what's your story?" He asked her curiously, speaking up after she had left them in a silence she didn't know whether was comfortable or uncomfortable.

"Who says I have a story?" She raised her head to look up at him, capturing his bright blue eyes.

"Oh, everyone has a story." He shrugged.

"Maybe one that's not interesting enough to tell." She suggested.

"But your story isn't boring, is it?" He was trying to figure her out. He wouldn't succeed.

"I'm just a girl at a bar." She said simply, a small almost flirtatious smile on her face.

"Then I guess I'm just a guy at a bar." He offered making her laugh softly to herself.

"I guess so." She agreed.