Chapter Text
The year is 1943. A downpour of rain adds to the already depressed mood of the evening, and normally on a day like this I'd be dancing. It was never all that hard for me to find a partner, but I never really enjoyed myself. Men here were so shallow. I guess it was probably because of the women. Every day was black and white. Every person a blank card.
Women expected their men to be strong and muscular--to be smart and all-knowing. To do all the heavy lifting. Men just expected women to be obedient. This trained each gender like dogs. Men were stripped of all capability to have depth. They were like robots; being polite, but rude. How could one be polite and rude? They'd hold doors open, offer coats, pull out chairs.... but all they wanted from their partner was sex. It rid all of them of the gentleman-like qualities that I sought. It rid them of the ability to be truly kind. No man in Brooklyn knew honor.
Or at least that's what I thought.
Women, on the other hand, were trained to be simply submissive. Every night they would don short skirts and makeup, find a new partner and go dancing. All the while forgetting what really mattered in a relationship. Respect. There was no sensible or mutual respect in any of the relationships. People simply tolerated each other.
I tolerated everyone. My friends, who had of course conformed to society's expectations of a woman. They would beg me every night to go dancing with them. 'The boys would love you', was their plea. I politely declined, each evening, and stayed home.
Sometimes I would go out and walk on the streets, as I did today.
I tolerated the men, who would catcall in the streets and ask me to dance every time I was forced to the floor. I tolerated, of course, my mother, who just wanted me to find a husband and settle down.
I walked close to the buildings, trying to keep partially dry from the downpour, but I didn't mind getting wet. I rather liked the rain. I liked the smell of it, and the sound. The sound of rain was calming, in a sense that it helped me focus.
Maybe that's why I didn't hear it at first.
A loud cracking sound, followed by a clatter. I stopped in my steps, knitting my brow and looking around. There was panting, and soft words spoken in a whisper. I peered around the corner, directly into a short alley.
Now, there was one man in specific that would be very persistent in his pursuit of me. Every time I was at the ballroom, he would ask for a dance. I would decline, and he would attempt to persuade me, not nearly afraid of being physically seductive. He was a handsome man, but superficial. He had a look in his eye that was almost predatory, hungry. Like I was some kind of trophy. Daniel.
There he was, his stance aggressive. "You want to go again?" He barked, holding his hands out. The knuckles of his hands were red, bleeding. On the ground in front of him was a small man, thin and frail looking. He had blood streaming from his nose, trailing down his neck. His lip was split and one eye was bruised. He must have been five foot four, almost two heads shorter than Daniel. Nonetheless, he stood, his mouth slack and slightly agape, and pulled himself to his feet. He brought up both fists, holding them in front of his face. I bit my lip, not wanting to watch what would undoubtebly come next.
Daniel laughed, throwing his head back and giving a hearty bellow. He lunged forward, landing a punch right in the other man's jaw. He fell to the ground again, cradling his face in one hand, but tried to stand again.
"Hey!" I yelled, unable to watch any more. Daniel turned, and for the first time in my life, I was actually afraid of him. He had a cruel look in his eye, his teeth bared in a sick grin. A fire was blazing in his eyes, and he was breathing heavily. His face flickered when he saw me, guilt, pride, and cockiness sliding across his expression like pictures. The smaller boy on the ground looked at me, but I didn't look at him. "Daniel!" I said, horror clear in my voice. He sniffed, looking back at his prey.
The boy looked familiar. I'd seen him with... Bucky. Bucky was a good friend of mine, and he was one of the closest things to nice I'd come to. He was Bucky's friend. Steve... Rogers.
"Go on home, Lacey." Daniel spat, his voice husky and loud. He turned back to Steve, who was struggling to stand. "You want more, or are you finally learning when to give up?" He was showing off. Showing off that he could beat someone clearly smaller. His idea of making me attracted to him made me sick.
I stepped in front of him, between him and Steve. I was by far the shortest girl in my neighborhood. I was five feet, and I refused to wear heels. Daniel was six foot two, looming over me. I stood my ground, craning my neck to look up at him.
It was raining harder now, water falling in sheets down on us. My hair was sticking to my skin, the cloth of my dress as well. I glared up at Daniel, refusing to shield my eyes from the rain. His hair was stringy--water falling in droplets from the messy clumps.
"Get lost, Daniel." I spat, setting my jaw. He looked surprised-- no woman had every physically challenged him before. Or man, for that matter. He didn't know what to do.
"This ain't your business, Lacey." He slurred, wiping the rain from his nose. Blood smeared on his cheek from the back of his hand, and I felt my stomach flip.
"Why don't you go pick on someone your own size?" I asked, venom staining my words. He looked apprehensive, glancing from me to Steve.
"Yeah, like who?" He asked, settling for cockiness.
"Like me." I said, taking a step closer to him. His eyes hardened, and for a moment I thought he might hit me. To my utter surprise, instead he stepped back.
"Come on, now. You're smaller'n him, too, half-pint." He gave me an almost-flirty smile, and I heard a small grunt from behind me.
"You can't talk to her like that!" Steve piped up, stumbling forward. Daniel sneered, taking a vicious step toward him.
"You wanna bet?" Daniel challenged. I put out a hand, placing my palm flat against his chest to hold him back. He flinched, surprised, but then grinned nastily.
"Get lost." I whispered, my voice soft. I pursed my lips, brushing my wet hair back from my face. He hesitated, but held up two hands in surrender; he took a step back, a predatory smile engraved in his lips.
"See you next time, then." He said, directed at both of us. He winked at me, and disappeared from the alley.
I took a moment to collect myself before turning around to face Steve. "Are you..." I bit my lip, clearing my throat. "Are you okay?"
He looked at me for a moment, then nodded. I ran a hand through my wet hair, keeping my bangs out of my face. "He's a jerk, I'm sorry." I said, looking to make sure he wouldn't come back. I glanced up at the sky, seeing the rain clouds starting to go away. When I looked back over at Steve, he was staring at me.
"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious. His eyes were glassy blue, and sharp enough to cut glass.
"You don't wear the powder." He said, after a moment. I brought a hand up to my face, blushing. I hated using the makeup everyone else did, it was too heavy and thick. "Like all the other girls." He cleared his throat, flushing and looking away bashfully.
I smiled, looking at him through my lashes. The rain was falling more gently now, and it wasn't as dark. "I don't go dancing like the other girls." I said, smirking in spite of myself.
"Uhm... Steve. Rogers. Steve Rogers." He said awkwardly, holding out a hand.
"Lacey Macguire." I said, clumsily shaking his hand. His expression changed, realization flashing through his eyes.
"Lacey."
"What?"
He looked away shyly, biting his lip. "People talk about you a lot. The guys do." I laughed, playing with the hem of my skirt.
"Do they? Well..." I gestured to myself. "Shortest girl in town." I said, laughing. I looked back up, almost flinching when his ice blue eyes cut through mine.
"Shortest guy in town." He said, his eyes not leaving mine.
He was actually pretty cute. Not attractive in the way the men at the bar were--all muscle and attitude. When Daniel was beating him, he kept getting up. He kept fighting. And even when he knew he couldn't win, he stood up for... for me. 'You can't talk to her like that!'
He didn't even know me.
I flashed back to reality, finding myself closer to him than I thought. His eyes were on mine, flickering from my lips to my brown irises. I cleared my throat after a moment, biting my lip.
"Well... I'll see you around, Steve Rogers." I said, my heart pounding in my chest. I backed away slowly, then turned on my heel and walked out of the alley.
Did I almost just kiss Steve Rogers?