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He pulled through the drive through. It was one of those things he still wasn’t used to. He didn’t get fast food often, usually when he was with you and neither of you could decide what you want. He was nervous and it was showing. He saw the wide eyes of the cashier when he pulled up.
“You look like Captain America. But that’d be silly. Captain America wouldn’t be here,” she babbled. Steve chuckled a little.
“Have a good day, miss,” he said as he took his change. Once he had the food, he pulled into a parking spot. He was five minutes from your childhood home. Marriage was something the two of you had been discussing for some time. He wanted to do things right. He knew asking for a woman’s hand in marriage was becoming antiquated, but so was he. It was something he had been anxious about. He’d never do it if it was something you had an issue with.
Bucky had gone through the same thing not all that long ago. It was Bucky he’d gone to when he needed advice on how to bring up the topic of asking your father for permission to marry you with you. Bucky had all but smacked Steve upside the head for how much he’d over thought it. It was you they were talking about. You understood him in a way many people didn’t, and that included some of the things Steve had held on to from his upbringing. Some things had changed. But this was one thing Steve felt strongly about, that he wanted to do. You had, unsurprisingly, been open to the idea. It was the only thing Steve needed to know before he did it.
Your parents adored him. That much was true. But that did little to settle his nerves. Your father was intimidating. It was comical, really. He was Captain America. He could fight HYDRA, could take down aliens. Do his job without fear. But when it came to asking your father for permission to marry you? Steve was terrified. He went through every scenario where your father could say no. While it wouldn’t necessarily stop the two of you from getting married, having that blessing was important to Steve.
Steve had written and rewritten what he wanted to say to your father. He wanted to leave nothing to chance. He didn’t want to mess this up. He finished his food, a momentary distraction, and started the car back up, driving the same roads you memorized as a child, passing your middle school, the playground where you’d spend summer days playing. All these stories you’d tell Steve on visits to your hometown, when the two of you would go for walks.
As Steve drove, he couldn’t help but think about the day the two of you met. It was one of his favorite memories since waking up in the 21st century. It wasn’t a coincidence that most of his favorite memories starred you.
He was exhausted. He needed out of the Tower and a coffee shop tucked away in between a print shop and a used book store was the perfect place. Unfortunately for him, or maybe it was fortunately, he wasn’t paying attention once he was handed the sweet, sweet caffeine he so desperately wanted and he collided with a woman. He collided with you. Coffee splattered all over your shirt and he was immediately apologetic.
“I’m so sorry. I can pay for dry cleaning. I can get you another coffee. I should have been paying more attention, I—,” you cut him off, a soft smile on your face. If you recognized him, you didn’t let on, something he was infinitely grateful for.
“Uh, I don’t think this shirt will need dry cleaning. Don’t worry about it. We all have off days where we’re somewhere else mentally,” you said. Steve glanced at your t-shirt. He didn’t recognize the band on it, then again, he didn’t recognize very many bands these days.
“Still. At least let me pay for a new coffee,” he said.
“You drive a hard bargain,” you joked. Steve decided then he wanted to ask if he could join you after you both had your new cups of coffee.
“I was wondering...if you wouldn’t mind...could I join you at a table?” he asked, trying not to stumble over his words. He wasn’t shy, not by any stretch of the imagination. But there was something about you that made him not want to mess up before he even had a chance to ask for your name.
“I don’t even know your name,” you said. He panicked for a second before you laughed and offered up yours, extending your free hand toward his. He grasped your hand in his.
“I’m Steve,” he said.
“Well then Steve, let’s go find a table, shall we?” you asked as you pulled your hand away from his.
Steve pulled up to your childhood home, pulling himself out of his thoughts. The sound of a dog barking could be heard as he stepped out of the car. Your mother was already at the door. He knew your parents knew why he was visiting, even if he hadn’t said it. You were currently on a mission with Natasha, Wanda, and Bucky, something that needed your particular skill set. You weren’t always in the field. You liked playing support, especially with your healing abilities. You much preferred research and intelligence to fighting in the field. But sometimes, you were needed.
“Steve, what brings you by?” your mother asked with a warm, knowing smile. She reminded him of you, in the best ways, in the way she acted, the way she spoke. Your stubborn streak came from her, something you always owned up to, with a quick comment ‘I get it from my mother’ whenever someone would bring up your stubborn nature.
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by to talk,” he said. His hands were sweaty and he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He wiped his hands on his jeans as discreetly as he could, before your mother pulled him into a hug.
“He’s in the living room,” your mother said as Steve stepped onto the front porch. He reached down to pet the dog that was now sniffing at him, before continuing into the house.
Steve glanced around the room. Photos of you growing up were on the walls, with newer additions that had photos of you and him. The Christmas cards the two of you had sent to your family the past couple of years sat on a shelf. There were a few photos of you and the team and even a newspaper article from a mission where you had single handedly pulled off a rescue that local officials had thought would be impossible.
Your father stood up from the couch, shaking Steve’s hand before sitting back down. Steve sat on a chair that sat opposite the couch. Your father wore a stern expression as he looked over at Steve.
“What brings you by?” your father asked. Steve took a deep breath. In all the years he had lived, all the moments he experienced, the near death experiences, all of it, he had never felt like this.
“I love your daughter more than I ever thought possible. When I woke up in this century, I thought I’d never find someone I would want to spend the rest of my life with, that I would never find someone who could understand me. I thought I was destined to be alone, and then she walked into my life and turned it upside down. I give you my word, I will love her for the rest of my life. We both know she can protect herself, but I will always be there when she needs me. Sir, I want to marry your daughter,” Steve said. He felt like he was talking a mile a minute. Your father smiled at him.
“It’s about damn time, Rogers,” your father said with a smile, standing up to shake Steve’s hand once more and pull him into a hug.
“I brought the ring,” Steve said. Your mother was standing nearby and made her way over to where the two were standing as Steve pulled the ring box from his pocket. Your mother gasped when she saw it.
“Oh, she’s going to love it,” your mother said.
“I hope so. I managed to get some of my mother’s old things. Bucky’s sister had them. The ring was my grandmother’s,” Steve explained.
Leaving the house, Steve thought about the next phase of Operation Happily Ever After: preparing for the proposal.