Lessons in Rule Breaking and Other Reader-Inserts*Steve Rogers*Reader*

Lessons in Rule Breaking - Pt.1/2

As a college student, you have a part-time job – you work at the counter desk in Smithsonian museum in the still relatively new exposition. The Captain America's one.

You knew you could get in trouble when breaking the no-newcomers-after-30-minutes-before-the-closing-time rule, but you sure didn't expect the trouble to look like this.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You were bored. Enormously. The clock was telling you there was still twenty minutes until the closing time and that time was always filled with boredom - half an hour ago, impressive crowds were still flooding the Captain America's exhibition as if it was The Independence Days aka Cap's birthday. Now, with the well-known rule of not letting any newcomers in less than 30 minutes before closing time, the counter desk was painfully empty. Hence the boredom and the idle hands.

As far as you heard, idle hands were the devil's tools and maybe it was the truth - but here in Smithsonian, there wasn't many things for the devil to operate with. Sure, you could go to another level for a different exhibition and mix some captions to artefacts, but that seemed like too much work and with how crowded the space was, it was next to impossible. Another option was to pull the fire alarm, but you weren't that much of a punk.

So, most of the time, you settled with watching people around you - unlike when the insane number of people was flowing in and if you hadn't had an ID shoved into your face allowing a children discount, you wouldn't have known if a kid was coming, an adult, a man, a woman, a farmer, the freaking president or Captain America himself. You weren't proud of that, but... well. You made up for that in the free time in the evening.

There was a kid with a backpack with Captain America's shield on it, watching what could be his brother in his father's arms as he was holding the kid up right next to the panel showing Captain's transformation from the skinny boy to a walking rock. Very cute rock. Anyway, in the corner, an incredibly bored-looking girl was pulling her mother's sleeve, impatient to get out, perhaps looking forward seeing a cartoon instead of a war museum exhibit. There was a guy rolling his eyes at his girlfriend, who was standing by the display of authentic outfits (and mannequins, the source of the man's annoyance, if you could take a guess), making heart eyes the Captain's figure; you couldn't hold back a giggle and looked away.

Which was exactly when you noticed the pair on the different side of the gate, outside of the space of exhibition. It was a woman with a boy and he couldn't be older than six years old. He would have been cute, a ginger with several freckles on his nose and cheeks, looking like he would have dimples when smiling, but he wasn't exactly in a mood. In fact, he seemed wrecked. Glassy tears were rolling down from his huge eyes and he sniffed from time to time. His mum was trying to comfort him, herself wearing a helpless expression.

Alright, you were leaving your post right now. Perhaps it was the devil's handiwork indeed, maybe it was none of your business, whatever the kid was crying for. But it was breaking your heart. You approached them rapidly, and being just few steps from them, you could see the mum pointing at a sign - the sign that was telling them that they could no longer enter the exhibition. Ah, damn.

"Can I help you?" you asked politely, the woman's gaze immediately snapping at you, a bit startled. She eyed your nametag.

"No, no thank you," she brushed you off, apologetic smile on her lips. The kid sniffed again.

"Alright. If you're sure..."

You backed off quickly, spinning on your heels and mentally slapping yourself. Why did you come to them again?

"But mommy-"

"No, Jamie, sweetheart. We're late, we spent too much time in the park. We'll have to come here another time-" the woman explained patiently, her voice gentle but firm. You bit your lip but started walking. Rules. There were rules.