Till It Bleeds Daylight.

Till It Bleeds Daylight (part 1)

(4100 words)

The diner is one of those retro 50’s style diners, extremely kitschy from the tables and the cheesy neon signs to the plastic, colourful menus, from the uniforms the waitresses wear to the milkshakes and burgers they serve. It’s not a good one either. Unfortunately, Steve found that out the hard way. But it’s out of the way enough for him to not be noticed by anyone who could cause problems for him, and the coffee, once he adds a bunch of milk and sugar to it, is…drinkable. He’s definitely not here for the food, the service, or ambience. He’s not even here because he wants to be.

It’s late enough at night that there are only a few other patrons. Steve took a booth far away enough from them just as a precaution - a little out of sight, but with enough of a view of all the exits. He winces as he takes a sip of his coffee, and lets the still slightly too bitter liquid slide down his throat. He’s been waiting for Sam for about half an hour now. He’s not sure whether to be annoyed or worried, but before he can decide either way, the bell above the entrance of the diner jingles, and Sam - in a black hoodie, scuffed sneakers and frayed jeans - makes his way over, his head bent down a little under his cap, clearly trying to not get noticed. He might be overdoing it, if you’d ask Steve, but he keeps those comments to himself.

“Sorry, had to make sure it was safe,” Sam says as he sits down opposite Steve, taking the cap off his head and placing it next to him in the faux-leather red booth. “So, what’s wrong? We weren’t supposed to meet for another week,” he asks, throwing Steve a curious look.

“Straight to-” Steve starts off, cutting himself off when a waitress comes over with a pot of coffee.

“Some coffee for you too, handsome?” she asks, and Steve doesn’t think he can roll his eyes hard enough at how Sam turns towards her and flirts up a storm. When she finally leaves, Sam takes a sip of the coffee she got him, immediately making a disgusted face.

“You couldn’t have warned me?” he hisses out, and Steve smirks a little behind his own mug.

“Well, I’m sorry handsome , it’s not like you asked.”

Sam grumbles a little, reaching for the sugar and adding a frankly disgusting amount of it to his drink. When he tries to take another sip after stirring the beverage for a bit, he still puckers his lips a little, a sour look on his face. “How are you drinking this shit?” he asks, a little dumbfounded, and Steve just shrugs. He’s definitely had worse. They both know they’re not here for the coffee.

They sit in silence for a bit, drinking their coffee, before Sam leans back in his seat. “So, what’s wrong?” he repeats his question from earlier, and it’s only because Steve has known him for so long that he can sense that Sam’s a little worried.

“Wait, no small talk?” Steve jokes, getting an eye roll from Sam in return. They both know Steve hates small talk and is actually grateful that Sam is his handler. He would’ve probably switched sides a long time ago if he had to deal with someone like Coulson, who’s way too chatty for Steve’s taste. Fine, that’s a lie, Steve would never. But he’s still grateful for Sam, and the fact that he’s okay with getting straight to business.

“I seem to have earned a promotion,” he says, a little disdainfully, waiting for Sam to react. He doesn’t, not really, just crooks his eyebrow in a gesture that says “ explain .” 

“They had me going around the neighbourhood for a while, you know, harassing poor store owners and collecting protection money.  Some shit went down, someone slipping through their fingers instead of paying up, and I managed to catch up with him.”

He shakes his head, thinking back on how he’d cut the guy off in an alley, had to climb up an unsteady rain pipe and cross over a roof, only to drop himself onto a dumpster to get in front of the runner. Reckless, idiotic, Sam would call it. He decides Sam is better off without the details.