Work Text:
He calls Sharon because Nat asked him to, and at this point he trusts her judgment. Plus, Steve feels like he owes her one. Granted, it’s gotten pretty difficult to keep track of how many times they’ve each saved each other’s lives, and they’re probably about even on that front, really, but still. He owes her.
They decide right away that as much as they like each other, they probably shouldn’t date. The fact that she’s related to Peggy would make it weird. Steve’s timelines are already so muddled, being romantically involved with another member of the Carter family seems inadvisable. It’s Sharon who suggests it; she’s always known about Steve’s connection to her aunt, after all, while he didn’t know about hers until just now. He’s a remarkably good sport about the whole thing.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you before, but I’m not sure how I could have when you didn’t even know my real name,” she says over the phone. “Plus, I thought you might not exactly want to hang out after the whole SHIELD debacle.”
“None of that was your fault,” he says. “And it’s actually nice to know that you only turned down my coffee date offer out of professional responsibility.”
“Hey, I never said that was the only reason I turned you down,” she laughs. “Maybe I find you completely repulsive.”
“How rude of me to assume.”
“But really, there’s no reason we can’t still hang out, if you want. Saturday maybe.”
Steve smiles and nods even though he knows she can’t see him. “Okay, sounds good. It’s a not-date.”
*
“So who was the last person you kissed, then?” she asks, as they’re sitting on her couch. Coffee turned into dinner turned into her apartment, so here they are. She’s moved since everything fell apart, and her new place is tiny, with boxes still stacked on pretty much every available surface. She’s been asking him questions like this all night, without much preamble, but Steve doesn’t mind. There’s nothing hostile about Sharon’s tone, and you can’t blame someone with her experience for wanting to gather intel. Especially now.
“It was Natasha, actually,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow. “It wasn’t like that though. She kissed me, really, if that makes a difference. It was when we were trying to get away from the STRIKE team, so Rumlow wouldn’t notice us.”
“So the infamous Black Widow learned her diversion tactics from hacky sitcoms.”
“I mean, it worked.”
“Did it now?”
He laughs. “No, not like that; it was terrible. Or so I was told. She asked me if it was my first kiss since 1945.”
“Rude. Was it, though?” Sharon grins at him.
“No, but there weren’t very many in between.”
“That’s alright. I didn’t kiss anyone at all until I was 22, you know,” she says, twirling a strand of hair between her thumb and middle finger.
“No kidding. Don’t tell me you were an awkward late bloomer or something. I’m not sure I’d believe you.”
“Oh no, I’ve always been cute.” She smiles at Steve, and he grins back. “No, sometimes things just don’t happen. Not for any particular reason, I just never really thought about it.”
He nods. “Well, I was the very definition of late bloomer, obviously. It took science to undo my awkwardness. Highly risky, potentially lethal science.”
“Project Rebirth changed your body, maybe,” Sharon smirks, “but it didn’t take away the awkward. I’ve seen the USO footage.”
Steve covers his face with his hand. “God, I was so uncomfortable all the time.”
“Stars: They’re Just Like Us,” she says, reaching over to gently pat him on the shoulder.
*
“So how many languages do you speak?” she asks. They’re laying next to each other on the floor now, watching shadows shift on the ceiling and waiting in comfortable silence in between new conversation topics. It’s late, but Steve is perfectly content to stay right here. It’s the calmest he’s been in ages.
“Hmmm,” he responds lazily. “One and a half? My French isn’t terrible, but saying ‘I speak French’ would probably be an insult to people who actually do. It’s mostly stuff I picked up during the war, so lots of swearing. What about you?”
“Six,” she says, like it’s nothing.
“I bet your resume is terrifying.”
She shrugs. “I worked hard.”
“SHIELD didn’t really take slackers, I guess.”
“You managed to sneak in somehow, though.”
He laughs. God, he likes her.
*
“What else you got for me?" he asks later.
“Normally I’d ask something like ‘What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?’ but that seems like it would be a dick move with you,” she says.
“I can ask you that one, then.”
“Not too many work-related ones, believe it or not. The thing that’s hurt worst was when I broke my arm as a kid. Fell off some monkey bars, snapped it in three places.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. I made my mom put me in gymnastics classes the second it healed. Wasn’t about to let something like that happen again.”
“I would expect nothing less from you.”
*
“I think maybe we’re running out of getting-to-know-you questions,” Sharon says, sounding half-asleep.
“Well, it’s four in the morning, so we had a good run.”
“You know, this not-date has gone much better than most actual dates I’ve had recently.”
“Natasha tends to know what she’s doing, even if the outcome wasn’t exactly what she was hoping for.” Steve props himself up on his elbow and looks at her. She’s got her eyes closed, and she smiles faintly with one side of her mouth.
“I think the outcome she was hoping for was just that you’d leave your house.”
“Mission accomplished, then,” he says, a little awkwardly. “I think, um, I think I’m gonna go, but I had a really good time, Sharon.”
She opens her eyes and sits up. “Me too. It was good to, you know, actually meet you, without a fake name and scrubs. Which, side note, did you really never notice that it was always the same pair in that laundry basket, and they were never actually dirty?”
“I can’t say that I did.”
“You’d be the worst spy of all time. Much too trusting.”
“Yeah, well. There are worse flaws to have, I guess.”
She smiles at him. “Yeah, Steve. You could be doing a lot worse.”