✪ American Noise ✪ [Captain America]

Chapter 9: Liz VI

Liz's dining table looked as though she thought that penciled sketches on paper made for a proper tablecloth. In one corner of the table to her left sat Liz's laptop. She was currently cycling through reference images and videos on the internet as she leaned away from the pad of paper directly in front of her. Billy and Emma Schaeffer's eleventh birthday was coming up soon, and Liz was designing a special gift for each of them that she planned to make herself from scratch. She had decided on replica gauntlets worn by each of their favorite heroes: Iron Man for Billy and Black Widow for Emma.

The sketches that currently covered the table contained drafts of designs and dimensions for particular parts as well as schematics for electronics; Liz had planned to include light-up components in the appropriate areas as well as a small speaker and onboard microchip with a motion sensor for sound effects that she would program in later. Compared to some of her senior projects for the Aerospace Engineering program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, something like this was mere child's play. Liz scoured the internet for images and footage from the Battle of New York. There was an abundance of it available, but it was difficult finding all the necessary angles with enough detail to be sure of her sketches' accuracy, but Liz was determined.

Actually, if truth be told, Liz welcomed the distraction. Steve had not wasted any time re-enlisting after he had first told Liz of the idea back on Memorial Day. Once he did, there was an immediate shift in what had become routine that left Liz with a number of conflicting emotions and too much time to spend thinking about them. Since Steve had started training locally for whatever specialized team he had not disclosed, Liz was lucky if she saw him once every couple of days. It was not so bad until Steve had started taking part in night training two weeks ago. What had formerly been their regular movie nights on Wednesdays and Sundays now seemed to be continually and indefinitely postponed by one of them due to scheduling.

Liz had not realized just how valuable Steve's help down in the shop had been until it was no longer regularly available. Pops was now aggressively trying to convince Liz that they should hire some teenager part-time (mainly to help with stock management and heavy lifting), and Liz was determined to be able to go on fine without Steve around all the time just as she had been doing before he had moved into the building. But if Liz was going to be honest with herself, she missed Steve's company, although she really rather preferred to blame it on the withdrawals from the hot coffee he used to bring her on a regular basis.

In contrast, her ex-boyfriend was trying every trick in the book to get Liz to agree to see him. Jason would send what seemed to be thoughtful text messages now almost every day, most of which Liz would not acknowledge except for sporadic, one-word responses. Occasionally, Jason would call, and Liz would not answer. He would leave a voicemail briefly describing his day, say he missed her, and end with an open invitation to meet. Liz contemplated changing her number every now and again but could not justify whether or not it was worth the trouble.

But there was another feeling that Liz tried to bury. A tiny, satisfied part that actually liked the attention. It kinda feels good knowing that I'm wanted... Liz thought to herself, Even if I don't ever want to be with him again, I guess it's better than pining over someone that doesn't seem to want anything other than friendship...

Liz had been foolish to think that a guy like Steve could possibly reciprocate any romantic feelings for her. She believed that they had become rather close over the past few months, and, as much as Liz had tried to fight it, she had found herself developing something of a crush on him. After the time that they had spent together on Memorial Day laughing together, crying together — Okay, maybe I was the only one crying like an idiot, Liz thought — holding hands, being held by him... It seemed that maybe he also could have— Liz did not allow herself to finish the train of thought. She sighed as she clicked through more images on the screen, none of them giving the angle, or even the heroes, that she needed. I read too much into him just being a nice guy, Liz decided, And here I am alone. Again...