Day 25:for want of pizza & beer
Title: for want of pizza & beer
Author: avamclean
Word Count: 1880
Rating: FR13
Crossover: BtVS, Marvel:MCU
Disclaimer: Marvel:MCU and all related themes are copyright of Marvel Entertainment and Stan Lee. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related themes are copyright of Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended.
Prompt: polgara_5 | Buffy couldn’t figure out why she was the only one seeing Steve’s mischievous nature. Crossposted @ wishlist_fic
Summary: Buffy is moving, Steve is a gentleman and Riley is oh so very late.
+
Moving, regardless if you’re coming or going, was never as easy as the movie montages made it seem. They always failed to show the unpleasant side effects. Such as when a mover arrived late enough-though technically 2:45AM was annoyingly early-they’d resort to a night on an air mattress rather than bother unloading something more comfortable. Buffy Summers had, under pressure of sleep deprivation, resorted to such non-lumbar supporting measures.
She was regretting that decision, even though she’d gotten (maybe) three hours of sleep on that uncomfortable slab of rubber and air, as she ushered up the second load of boxes from the garage into the apartment building. The still relatively early hour wasn’t helping matters and Riley and company were late with the helping and his promised caffeinated beverages. Riley did have two little ones to get food in their bellies and wrestle into respectable attire before he could meet up since Sam was very pregnant with their third. They were the reason his phone wasn’t subjected to a barrage of text messages-in another hour even they wouldn’t save him.
There was also the gentle, but firm ribbing he would suffer when she presented him with the rented truck and its lack of dents. Not to mention the fantastic parking job. Yes, Buffy was indeed tooting her own mental horn. The days in which she barely had a learner’s permit were well and truly past. She’d tackled driving in Rome-no small feat that-and drove the moving van from Cleveland to Washington D.C. Seven hours might not seem like much to some, but to Buffy it was celebration worthy.
Beep-freaking-beep.
Though she’d admit, at least to herself, the drive had been boring, but Pennsylvania had been tricksy with their speed limits. Distracted, she almost walked into a couple that was exiting the building. The guy stepped back, catching the door with the heel of his boot and Buffy got a tighter grip on the boxes balanced in her arms as she maneuvered her way past him with a grateful smile-that he obviously couldn’t see behind said boxes.
She paused and called, “Thanks!” after his retreating back.
He responded with the hand wave usually reserved for while driving and she shrugged before heading down the hallway towards the elevators. The contents in the boxes shifted from her quick stride and she paused, using the wall closet to her for leverage so she could adjust her grip. The next trip she was moving the contents of the truck around so she could actually use the dolly and not resort to carting up a box or three at a time.
The elevator dinged while she was still several yards away and she called out, “Hold please,” and quickened her stride as the doors started to slide close. A hand appeared between them, activating the sensor and giving Buffy enough time to slip inside.
A wide chest and a strong jaw were her first impression of the helpful guy, but the boxes did their dance with gravity again so she was forced to focus on them rather than the possibly attractive person sharing not so personal a space. The back wall worked just dandy for balance and she was definitely retrieving the dolly for the next batch and possibly texting Riley. Just once.
“Ma’am,” she refocused on her companion and he smiled, “What floor?”
She notched him from possibly attractive to definitely even as she frowned, “I’m sorry?”
“What floor are you going to?”
“Right! Five,” Buffy flinched as she recalled she hadn’t bothered with makeup that morning and her hair was currently being held up by residual hairspray, a plastic clip and happy thoughts. It worked for Tinkerbelle. It could work for her.
“New to the building?”
His question forced her to meet his gaze over the top of the box and question, “What gave it away?”
His smile spread and a dimple appeared in his cheek-seriously?-as his head inclined with the obviousness of the question. “Well, welcome to the building.”
“Thank you,” Buffy smiled and added, “for the welcome and for catching the door.”
“I’m Steve,” He hesitated, as if half expecting a reaction of some sort, before he continued the introduction with, “I’d offer to shake a hand, but yours seem a little full at the moment.”
“Buffy,” she didn’t wait for a reaction and instead plowed on with, “Have you lived in D.C. long?”
“Little over a year.”
The elevator dinged signaling her floor and she noticed Steve had chosen ten for himself. She got a good grip of the largest box and stepped towards the doors as they opened. “Well, I’m a full on newbie. I’d ask you to wish me luck, but I’m not big on wishes.”
His laugh was an easy one and it had Buffy smiling as she exited the elevator. Her apartment was to the left, but she’d only made it a few steps before she heard, “Buffy?” She turned around to find Steve standing in the hallway with one arm in the elevator holding it open, “Do you have someone helping you?”
“Not yet,” she shrugged as best she could with the boxes in her arms, but his concerned frown had her assuring him, “They’re on their way.”
“Alright,” He made his way back towards the elevator and Buffy noticed the way his running pants hugged certain parts of his anatomy.
He disappeared into the elevator and Buffy was thankful he hadn’t noticed the ogle. She shook her head, ignored the blush burning her cheeks, and made it into her apartment without further incident. The boxes were deposited in the kitchen because a thorough little sister had labeled all the boxes when she’d been helping Buffy pack. It was a pity Dawn hadn’t seen fit to help her unpack as well.
Buffy snagged a bottle of water from the fridge and downed half the contents before resisting the urge to grab her makeup from her purse and do a quick touchup. Instead she texted Riley, just the once, and left her phone on the counter before locking up the apartment and heading back down. She shared her ride this time with a cute couple that had a little not much older than Riley’s youngest-well, the current youngest anyways.
She amused herself by making faces at him behind his parents’ backs, but their exchanged smiles likely meant she’d been had. They waved their goodbyes, her and her cherub cheeked boyfriend, before they parted ways and she returned to the truck. Grease and things better left unknown flecked downward as she rolled the door back and stared at the overcrowded contents.
Her head tilted to the left, then the right before she got to business and started removing the boxes along the left side where the dolly was located somewhere towards the middle and strapped to the wall. The lack of air conditioning in the garage and the humidity had her glistening by the time she got it free, but she then had to frown at the piles of boxes now outside the truck. There was no way she was going to get them all on the dolly this trip-physics and Slayer strength only went so far.
A sigh escaped her before she stacked the dolly as far as she dared and then proceeded to repack the truck with the excess boxes. Her third trip out for more boxes she found her freshly showered neighbor, if the damp hair and change of clothes were anything to go by, standing beside the dolly with that same dimple inducing smile on his face.
“I thought you could use a hand until your friends arrived.”
Normally she’d argue with a complete stranger, attractive or not, that she had this, but she didn’t have this and dammit she’d accept the help until she could berate Riley properly. So instead she offered, “There’s beer and pizza in it for you.”
His smile turned towards the smirking, “Seems a fair trade,” and Buffy decided that was far more dangerous than the adorable one.
“Good,” Buffy snagged another couple of boxes to carry up before she closed the back as she offered, “Play your cards right and I might even get toppings on those pizzas.”
“I am fond of pepperoni.”
Back locked and boxes lifted Buffy followed Steve towards the entrance to the apartment complex while shaking her head and countering, “I’m more a veggie person. That way I can pretend the pizza is good for me.”
“I hear barley is a grain,” Steve offered as he opened the door for them.
“You don’t say?” Buffy grinned as she led the way towards the elevators.
They made four more trips and in that time Buffy learned that Steve was mildly flirty and a whole lot sarcastic. Most of his comments were deadpanned and if she hadn’t spent a part of her formative years with Giles she might’ve missed the jokes. She was still laughing when she opened the door to a frazzled looking Riley with Graham and Lucas bringing up the rear.
Graham held the coffee carrier so she bypassed Riley for caffeinated goodness and snagged an extra for Steve-her tardy friend could go get more or locate her Keurig in one of the boxes many boxes filling her apartment. She turned and nearly ran into said friend’s back as he stared at Steve standing in the middle of her living room surrounded by the boxes he-and Steve alone she might add-helped bring up.
“Buffy,” Riley sounded strained and she paused to glance at him, “Why is Captain America in your apartment?”
Green eyes widened as she looked towards a suddenly uncomfortable looking Steve. “Really?” She questioned, her smile widening at the implication as he nodded, “Super strength, right?” Steve gave another hesitant bob of his head and she countered, “Perfect! You can help me bring up the dresser.”
That dimple flashed as Steve returned her smile and Riley made a constipated face. “Buffy, can I talk to you a moment?”
“Sure,” Buffy agreed as she made her way into the living room and offered Steve the coffee cup with Riley’s name on it and questioned, “No cream, two sugars?” He shrugged and accepted the drink while Buffy informed Riley, “Just as soon as we finish bringing up my stuff.”
Riley opened his mouth, but it snapped shut when Graham dropped a hand onto his shoulder and reminded him, “Never argue with Summers.”
“Agreed,” Lucas snorted and snagged his coffee from the remaining two.
Buffy watched the boys-perhaps men was a better term since they were in their mid-thirties-who’d traded the Initiative for SHIELD and their antics shook her head even though Graham was in the right. Arguing with her, or any Summers for that matter, was rarely in your health’s best interest.
She found Steve watching her much the same way she was watching Riley and Co. (thinly veiled amusement) which prompted her to turn towards him and questioned, “What?”
“Where did you say you were working again?”
“I didn’t,” Buffy retorted before asking, “So we dresser bound?”
A brow arched before he motioned her past him, “Lead the way.”
“I always do.”
“I’m getting that.”
+
The end.
Note: I’m not entirely sure I stuck with the prompt, but I do think this is the start of a beautiful friendship. ;)
Author: avamclean
Word Count: 1880
Rating: FR13
Crossover: BtVS, Marvel:MCU
Disclaimer: Marvel:MCU and all related themes are copyright of Marvel Entertainment and Stan Lee. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related themes are copyright of Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended.
Prompt: polgara_5 | Buffy couldn’t figure out why she was the only one seeing Steve’s mischievous nature. Crossposted @ wishlist_fic
Summary: Buffy is moving, Steve is a gentleman and Riley is oh so very late.
+
Moving, regardless if you’re coming or going, was never as easy as the movie montages made it seem. They always failed to show the unpleasant side effects. Such as when a mover arrived late enough-though technically 2:45AM was annoyingly early-they’d resort to a night on an air mattress rather than bother unloading something more comfortable. Buffy Summers had, under pressure of sleep deprivation, resorted to such non-lumbar supporting measures.
She was regretting that decision, even though she’d gotten (maybe) three hours of sleep on that uncomfortable slab of rubber and air, as she ushered up the second load of boxes from the garage into the apartment building. The still relatively early hour wasn’t helping matters and Riley and company were late with the helping and his promised caffeinated beverages. Riley did have two little ones to get food in their bellies and wrestle into respectable attire before he could meet up since Sam was very pregnant with their third. They were the reason his phone wasn’t subjected to a barrage of text messages-in another hour even they wouldn’t save him.
There was also the gentle, but firm ribbing he would suffer when she presented him with the rented truck and its lack of dents. Not to mention the fantastic parking job. Yes, Buffy was indeed tooting her own mental horn. The days in which she barely had a learner’s permit were well and truly past. She’d tackled driving in Rome-no small feat that-and drove the moving van from Cleveland to Washington D.C. Seven hours might not seem like much to some, but to Buffy it was celebration worthy.
Beep-freaking-beep.
Though she’d admit, at least to herself, the drive had been boring, but Pennsylvania had been tricksy with their speed limits. Distracted, she almost walked into a couple that was exiting the building. The guy stepped back, catching the door with the heel of his boot and Buffy got a tighter grip on the boxes balanced in her arms as she maneuvered her way past him with a grateful smile-that he obviously couldn’t see behind said boxes.
She paused and called, “Thanks!” after his retreating back.
He responded with the hand wave usually reserved for while driving and she shrugged before heading down the hallway towards the elevators. The contents in the boxes shifted from her quick stride and she paused, using the wall closet to her for leverage so she could adjust her grip. The next trip she was moving the contents of the truck around so she could actually use the dolly and not resort to carting up a box or three at a time.
The elevator dinged while she was still several yards away and she called out, “Hold please,” and quickened her stride as the doors started to slide close. A hand appeared between them, activating the sensor and giving Buffy enough time to slip inside.
A wide chest and a strong jaw were her first impression of the helpful guy, but the boxes did their dance with gravity again so she was forced to focus on them rather than the possibly attractive person sharing not so personal a space. The back wall worked just dandy for balance and she was definitely retrieving the dolly for the next batch and possibly texting Riley. Just once.
“Ma’am,” she refocused on her companion and he smiled, “What floor?”
She notched him from possibly attractive to definitely even as she frowned, “I’m sorry?”
“What floor are you going to?”
“Right! Five,” Buffy flinched as she recalled she hadn’t bothered with makeup that morning and her hair was currently being held up by residual hairspray, a plastic clip and happy thoughts. It worked for Tinkerbelle. It could work for her.
“New to the building?”
His question forced her to meet his gaze over the top of the box and question, “What gave it away?”
His smile spread and a dimple appeared in his cheek-seriously?-as his head inclined with the obviousness of the question. “Well, welcome to the building.”
“Thank you,” Buffy smiled and added, “for the welcome and for catching the door.”
“I’m Steve,” He hesitated, as if half expecting a reaction of some sort, before he continued the introduction with, “I’d offer to shake a hand, but yours seem a little full at the moment.”
“Buffy,” she didn’t wait for a reaction and instead plowed on with, “Have you lived in D.C. long?”
“Little over a year.”
The elevator dinged signaling her floor and she noticed Steve had chosen ten for himself. She got a good grip of the largest box and stepped towards the doors as they opened. “Well, I’m a full on newbie. I’d ask you to wish me luck, but I’m not big on wishes.”
His laugh was an easy one and it had Buffy smiling as she exited the elevator. Her apartment was to the left, but she’d only made it a few steps before she heard, “Buffy?” She turned around to find Steve standing in the hallway with one arm in the elevator holding it open, “Do you have someone helping you?”
“Not yet,” she shrugged as best she could with the boxes in her arms, but his concerned frown had her assuring him, “They’re on their way.”
“Alright,” He made his way back towards the elevator and Buffy noticed the way his running pants hugged certain parts of his anatomy.
He disappeared into the elevator and Buffy was thankful he hadn’t noticed the ogle. She shook her head, ignored the blush burning her cheeks, and made it into her apartment without further incident. The boxes were deposited in the kitchen because a thorough little sister had labeled all the boxes when she’d been helping Buffy pack. It was a pity Dawn hadn’t seen fit to help her unpack as well.
Buffy snagged a bottle of water from the fridge and downed half the contents before resisting the urge to grab her makeup from her purse and do a quick touchup. Instead she texted Riley, just the once, and left her phone on the counter before locking up the apartment and heading back down. She shared her ride this time with a cute couple that had a little not much older than Riley’s youngest-well, the current youngest anyways.
She amused herself by making faces at him behind his parents’ backs, but their exchanged smiles likely meant she’d been had. They waved their goodbyes, her and her cherub cheeked boyfriend, before they parted ways and she returned to the truck. Grease and things better left unknown flecked downward as she rolled the door back and stared at the overcrowded contents.
Her head tilted to the left, then the right before she got to business and started removing the boxes along the left side where the dolly was located somewhere towards the middle and strapped to the wall. The lack of air conditioning in the garage and the humidity had her glistening by the time she got it free, but she then had to frown at the piles of boxes now outside the truck. There was no way she was going to get them all on the dolly this trip-physics and Slayer strength only went so far.
A sigh escaped her before she stacked the dolly as far as she dared and then proceeded to repack the truck with the excess boxes. Her third trip out for more boxes she found her freshly showered neighbor, if the damp hair and change of clothes were anything to go by, standing beside the dolly with that same dimple inducing smile on his face.
“I thought you could use a hand until your friends arrived.”
Normally she’d argue with a complete stranger, attractive or not, that she had this, but she didn’t have this and dammit she’d accept the help until she could berate Riley properly. So instead she offered, “There’s beer and pizza in it for you.”
His smile turned towards the smirking, “Seems a fair trade,” and Buffy decided that was far more dangerous than the adorable one.
“Good,” Buffy snagged another couple of boxes to carry up before she closed the back as she offered, “Play your cards right and I might even get toppings on those pizzas.”
“I am fond of pepperoni.”
Back locked and boxes lifted Buffy followed Steve towards the entrance to the apartment complex while shaking her head and countering, “I’m more a veggie person. That way I can pretend the pizza is good for me.”
“I hear barley is a grain,” Steve offered as he opened the door for them.
“You don’t say?” Buffy grinned as she led the way towards the elevators.
They made four more trips and in that time Buffy learned that Steve was mildly flirty and a whole lot sarcastic. Most of his comments were deadpanned and if she hadn’t spent a part of her formative years with Giles she might’ve missed the jokes. She was still laughing when she opened the door to a frazzled looking Riley with Graham and Lucas bringing up the rear.
Graham held the coffee carrier so she bypassed Riley for caffeinated goodness and snagged an extra for Steve-her tardy friend could go get more or locate her Keurig in one of the boxes many boxes filling her apartment. She turned and nearly ran into said friend’s back as he stared at Steve standing in the middle of her living room surrounded by the boxes he-and Steve alone she might add-helped bring up.
“Buffy,” Riley sounded strained and she paused to glance at him, “Why is Captain America in your apartment?”
Green eyes widened as she looked towards a suddenly uncomfortable looking Steve. “Really?” She questioned, her smile widening at the implication as he nodded, “Super strength, right?” Steve gave another hesitant bob of his head and she countered, “Perfect! You can help me bring up the dresser.”
That dimple flashed as Steve returned her smile and Riley made a constipated face. “Buffy, can I talk to you a moment?”
“Sure,” Buffy agreed as she made her way into the living room and offered Steve the coffee cup with Riley’s name on it and questioned, “No cream, two sugars?” He shrugged and accepted the drink while Buffy informed Riley, “Just as soon as we finish bringing up my stuff.”
Riley opened his mouth, but it snapped shut when Graham dropped a hand onto his shoulder and reminded him, “Never argue with Summers.”
“Agreed,” Lucas snorted and snagged his coffee from the remaining two.
Buffy watched the boys-perhaps men was a better term since they were in their mid-thirties-who’d traded the Initiative for SHIELD and their antics shook her head even though Graham was in the right. Arguing with her, or any Summers for that matter, was rarely in your health’s best interest.
She found Steve watching her much the same way she was watching Riley and Co. (thinly veiled amusement) which prompted her to turn towards him and questioned, “What?”
“Where did you say you were working again?”
“I didn’t,” Buffy retorted before asking, “So we dresser bound?”
A brow arched before he motioned her past him, “Lead the way.”
“I always do.”
“I’m getting that.”
+
The end.
Note: I’m not entirely sure I stuck with the prompt, but I do think this is the start of a beautiful friendship. ;)