[RP for
starspangledcap, locked to same]Friday night at the mall. Sally was nearly dancing through her shift. Pansy let Sal pick the music, again, and it was one of those nights in retail when everybody left the counter in a better mood than the one they brought in. Sally had a smile for everyone
(
Read more... )
He also had no idea what he was going to say to Sally, once he saw her. Despite the fact that he'd spent the past twenty-four hours thinking about this, no real plan had formed in his mind. He thought that maybe just seeing her would be enough. He'd see her, and he'd see that she was well, and happy, and that would be enough. He'd turn around and head back to New Jersey, secure in the knowledge that his daughter wasn't dead, and he'd just have to live with ( ... )
Reply
Reply
His ear caught a snippet of lyrics from the loudspeaker overhead, and he realized he'd heard the song before - Sally had played it, often, on her iPod, headphones turned up so loud that Steve had been constantly yelling at her to turn them down to save her ears. ("But I have a healing factor!" she'd complained, every time.)
"What music is this?" Steve asked, casting his eyes upward, glad to have found an appropriate comment to make. "It's a good song."
Reply
"But that's not an invitation," Emil muttered behind her. Without looking Sally reached back and hit him gently on the side of the head.
She studied the man at the counter. Sometimes she could figure things out about people. He had a look about him. Hungry, but not it that skeezey way. Something . . . Her intuition said this guy was okay. Sally's intuition, it was pretty good. Kept her out of trouble. Kept her mom out of trouble a couple of times on the dating scene. Sally chewed at her lip and nodded thoughtfully.
"Okay, Mister," she said. "Emil, this one's in. Mister, what can I do for you? I mean -- you're not here to shop. So. What is it?"
Reply
He needed to say something, to dispel those worries. But he couldn't think of any lie that would be convincing.
Except, perhaps, a lie that was mostly truth.
"I'm sorry. You must think I'm crazy. But I... I lost my daughter recently." He swallowed, unable to catch Sally's eyes as he spoke. "I was walking by the store, and I heard you laughing, and it reminded me so much of her. You even look alike. I'm... I'm sorry." He suddenly felt ashamed, standing there, lying to his daughter, speaking of her death when she was so clearly alive. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I'll leave."
Reply
What do you say to a person who just lost someone they should never have to mourn?
The man was staring at the Magneto Was Right shirts near the counter. Sally didn't think he was really seeing them, but it was something to say. Something other than do you miss her and how old was she when she died or was she your only child.
"Was she a Magneto fan?" Sally asked. The man jerked at the question. "Or, not," Sally added hastily. "You were just staring, is all. My name is Sally, by the way."
Reply
"It's very nice to meet you, Sally." He paused, knowing he couldn't tell the truth here, but needing to say something. "My daughter's name was Sarah."
It was his mother's name - Sally's grandmother's name. The name of the last person whose loss had hit him this hard.
He raised his eyes to the loudspeaker's fading refrains. "She liked this song, too."
Reply
She looked at him more closely. He was fit. Callused hands. Short hair, just barely starting to grow out. His goatee . . . looked wrong on his face. His eyes didn't stop checking the room, not in any nervous way, more like habit. He stood like the kids from the Kendo school.
"Were you here in time for her funeral or memorial? I mean, you -- you just got back from Iraq, right? Ah, Captain . . .?"
Behind her she could hear Emil's muttered, "damn, girl," at her nerve. But Sally didn't think the man would mind.
Reply
Reply
She followed his gesture to her books. "I get by," she said, not wanting to brag. Behind her Emil gave a false cough, and she kicked him a bit, in fun. "Emil, here," she said, leaning on the counter in a confiding manner, "he thinks I get good grades, but that's only because his are so bad I can help him out." She winked.
"Hey!" Email protested, standing to shake his finger at her, "That is so uncool, missy!" he said. "You help me study but who, exactly, pulled up your Spanish grade last semester? Hmm?"
Sally rolled her eyes and half hugged Emil. "Captain, this is Emil Khalidi, Emil, Captain Buchanan."
Reply
Steve stuck out his hand to shake the boy's. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Khalidi," he said. His eyes flicked back and forth between the two teenagers. Steve had never been very proficient at recognizing others' sexual orientations (he apparently hadn't even noticed his own, though that was a subject he was for the moment steadfastly ignoring). But even he could tell that this boy had no interest in dating his daughter ( ... )
Reply
But one of the things Sally liked about Emil was the fact that he was never off-balance for long.
"Best girlfriends," Emil answered, kissing Sally on the top of the head. She rolled her eyes and pushed him away, giggling. She glanced at the Captain ( ... )
Reply
Reply
"Captain, the church my mom - Toni - and I go to is having an International Workers' Day potluck this Sunday afternoon. Would you like to be my guest?"
Reply
But Steve knew that lying to Sally long-term would start to kill him, little by little. That being around her without really being around her would only hurt him more. And he also knew that, eventually, he would go back to hero work - either as Captain America or as some other alias - and he would have to leave her, for the sake of practicality and her safety. He couldn't let that happen. It would hurt too much, for both of them, to be separated after all of that ( ... )
Reply
Sally couldn't figure him out. She squinted at him, trying to see what didn't fit. What was not right. Well, the silly hair dye wasn't right. Sally started with that. Why would he disguise his looks? She studied him openly, brazenly, not caring that he was watching her back. What color was his hair? Not darker. Lighter, obviously. Blonde, maybe?
Sally froze.
Blonde.
I really shouldn't try to figure out who he looks like, she thought faintly. He opposed the Registration Act. Soldier. Stop now. You don't want to know, Sally told herself firmly.
"Are you . . . " Sally couldn't tell him about herself, about her mom. Not this very strange man. This . . . whoever he was. But she wanted to trust him. Everything in her said trust him. "Are you a good man?" she finally asked, staring at his dark -- contact lenses, she could see, now, colored lenses -- his dark eyes.
Reply
Leave a comment