Rogers (Steve Rogers AU) 18+

19

Delta

I frown at the package that I find unopened and in the trash as I go to wash up Emmy's breakfast bits. Whatever it is, it seems Steve's not bothered about, but it feels heavy and part of me wonders just what it could be.

Emmy's drawing at the table as Steve comes in and leans down, giving her head a kiss. "Morning beautiful". He murmurs and then comes over to me, kissing me gently. "And morning beautiful Dolly".

"Shit!" Emmy says as her crayons go all over the floor.

We turn and I shake my head at him. "I'm doing all I can to make her stop saying it".

"Technically it's Buck that started all this, so I say we let her yell it out right in the middle of the wedding ceremony and teach him a lesson". He says with a naughty grin on his face.

I laugh and turn back to the washing up, then nodding to the trash. "You not gonna open that? It's the third one I've seen in there".

His demeanour changes and all he mutters is, "it's not important", before going to fill his cup with some coffee from the machine.

I glance at the trash again. "But what is it though?"

"Nothing Doll, ok? It's nothing".

"It must be something if it's from LA". I continue.

He turns to me and sighs, almost as though he's defeated . "Delta. Please...it's nothing important - not anymore". He mutters the last part and I look at him before plucking the package from the trash.

"Well if it's nothing? Can I at least open it?"

He waves his hand at it. "Go on, but just don't start trying to lecture me. You know that part of my life is over", now heading out and leaving me there.

I sit down at the table and open the package, pulling out what is clearly a script inside. There's a note attached to it. This one could interest you more than the ones I've sent before - think about it. Phil.

The header on the note gives his full name. Phillip J. Coulson - SHIELD MANAGEMENT.
Glancing at the script the title is 'Dead Man's Hand' and I then study the character that they want Steve to play. Not the hero like he's always been, but more rather the villain. A guy called Hawk Landry.

I start reading and find I can't stop. It's gripping, exciting and all the while I can just imagine Steve in this exact role. But he I know all he'll do is just chuck it back in the trash like the others that Phil has probably sent him. Plus he wasn't in the greatest of moods when I was pressuring him to open it earlier.

But he needs to see this.

He has to. Whether he says that part of his life is over, I want him to at least read it. Then he can throw it away all he wants.

I've been gracious and not googled him, even though sometimes curiosity has got the better of me. I find it weird though and know that I have him to explain things about that time of his life, rather than reading the articles on the internet. I would feel like I've betrayed his trust if I did though. 

**

I put Emmy down for a nap that afternoon and find him in the kitchen once I come down. He's stretching and I stand by the doorway for a moment, checking him out before simply saying "smash".

He turns around, seeing me nod my approval and smiles weakly. "I'm sorry I got snappy earlier". He begins to apologise but I shake it off.

"I'm used to your mood swings, you grumpy bastard". I say, coming further in to the room. "But I think you really do need to read this script. It's unlike anything you did before. For once they're giving you a villain role..."

He puts his hand up to silence me but then nods. "Look, if I read it, will you stop asking me to with anymore that will be sent here?"

I nod quickly. "Promise".

He takes the script from where I left it on the table and takes a look at the first page. Wetting his lips slightly.

His lips aren't the only thing that's wet when he does that...

"I'll make some lunch". I say as he nods, saying a small 'thanks' before going to sit out on the porch swing to continue reading.

I let him have time out there to take everything in himself. He doesn't have long but when he comes back in I look up at him. "You want me throw it in the trash?" I ask as he puts the script down on the side and then washes up his cup and plate.

"I'll finish it later". Is all he says,  and then with a kiss to my hair, walks out.

I sigh, but at the same time feel a little triumphant that I at least got him to so much as read the title.