Steve was bored.

Considering the parameters of his assignment, it was surprising; if intel was to be believed, he was supposed to fight and detain an extraterrestrial by the name of Thor today. He wasn't sure what he thought about that, about extraterrestrials and Norse gods and whatnot, but he had to admit he was excited at the prospect of a good fight.

It'd been far too long. Iron Man was all for giving them the slip, maybe shooting off a repulsor or two before blowing something up and disappearing into the night; he was too busypleting his "mission" and evading capture to give Steve a real fight. He wondered what Iron Man would say if he asked…he shook his head. God, he must really be bored if he was considering asking a supervillain for a spar.

It didn't matter anyway; this Thor would give him a good, hard fight if the reports were right. Steve was anxious for it, which made sitting around in the rain, watching a hammer and waiting for the guy to show up, well, boring.

"For fuck's sake, Steve, sit still," Clint muttered, adjusting his line of sight for the seventh time. Steve fidgety behavior seemed to be rubbing off on him. "You're a soldier, man, buck up."

"It's been six hours," Steve grumbled, "Never had to sit in a foxhole this long."

"Next time they ask if you can wait in my nest, my answer will be an immediate and resounding no."

"Your nest?" Steve glanced around. They were pretty high up.

"Shut up," Clint grouched, but it was more good-natured than anything else. They got along well usually, had even had a number of three-way video game tournament's at Tony's, but they'd been stuck in way too small a space for way too long. "If you're bored, why don't you bug Tony?"

"He's sleeping."

"How on earth could you possibly know that?" Clint shot him a look. "Oh god, don't tell me Stark's make a stalker out of Captain America."

"Of course not." Steve frowned at the implication he would invade Tony's privacy that way. "JARVIS told me."

"What?" Clint abandoned any pretense of watching the hammer to stare at Steve.

"Tony thought he'd be helpful." Steve shifted under the weight of Clint's surprise. "I still don't get most pop culture references, and I don't always have time to sit down and watch the movie or listen to the song or whatever with Tony, so he went ahead and programmed JARVIS into my phone to answer that sort of thing. Then when I started to write a text to Tony earlier, JARVIS popped up to tell me Tony was asleep and if I didn't want to wake him I should try again later."

A long moment passed, during which Clint continued to stare. To be fair, it wasn't like Steve had asked JARVIS to tell him if Tony was sleeping or not. He wasn't that creepy.

"And to verify, you haven't tied him down yet."

"What's thatsupposed to mean?"

"Don't play the innocent Capsicle card, you know what it means."

"Did you just use one of Iron Man's nicknames?"

"Ohe on, villain or not, you know some of them are pretty funny. And don't dodge the subject! Do you know how paranoid Tony is about his technology? He hoards it like a dragon hoards gold, and he installed his decades-ahead-of-the-public sentient robot butler in your phone just cause he thought you'd like it? What more of an 'I'm fucking crazy about you' from Tony Stark do you want?"

"Why does everyone say it like that?" Steve frowned. "You keep saying things like 'he's Tony Stark', as if that's supposed to mean something bad—"

"Look, you didn't grow up with him on the front cover of every magazine, okay? I like the guy, I really do—he's probably the best friend I've got these days. But I know what he was like before, too, and it wasn't always pretty. Tony was the definition of a hot mess.mitment is new.mitment without so much as a kiss to test the waters is revo-fucking-lutionary, okay?"

"We're notmitted to anything—"

"Bullshit you're not. You spend your free periods in each other's class. You text more than teenage girls. We all know you practically live in his apartment. Not to mention it's four in the morning, and all you want to do right now is talk to him, isn't it?"

"I'm bored," Steve mumbled somewhat sullenly.

"But he'd be your first thought either way, wouldn't he?"

"That doesn't mean it's a good idea—"

"Look, yeah, okay, when it finally happens, your fluffy little love affair is going to make everyone else want to puke rainbows, but that doesn't matter; you can't let that matter. Steve, you two are so good for each other it's disgusting."

"I appreciate it, Clint, but it's moreplicated than that." Steve shook his head with a sigh, and Clint snorted.

"Give me one good reason you shouldn't go straight to Tony's after this, grab him by the shirt, and make his year."

"Because if he likes me at all—"

"Did the serum shrink your brain—"

"—he likes Steve Robinson."

An unbearably long silence stretched between them.

"Fuck." Clint blinked rapidly. "Why do I keep etting that?"

"You're not the only one." Steve wasn't blind to the wistfulness in his voice.

He didn't regret being a soldier. He didn't regret being born when he had, didn't regret growing up in the forties or having the experiences that had led him here, not by a long shot. Losing everything to the ice had been traumatic to say the least, but it was the people he missed—Bucky, themandos, Peggy. He treasured his memories of them, and he wouldn't trade them for anything. They'd made him the man he was, even if that man was now out of his time.

That didn't mean he didn't wonder what Steve Robinson's life would've been like.

He wondered what it would've been like to be the man Tony thought he was. To not be an out of place relic tangled in SHIELD's web, to not be a yutz in tights with a questionable relationship to a supervillain. To be simple.

To be an art teacher in love with the physics teacher down the hall, and able to tell him so.

"The superhero angle is new, but it's not like agents can't have relationships." Clint pointed out. "He'd have to sign a waiver, and you couldn't tell him much of anything about our missions, but—"

"You mean before or after I tell him I've been lying to him from the moment we met?" Steve leaned back against the railing. It was ufortable, but he didn't care much at the moment.

"He'd understand if you explained—"

"Think about it for a minute, really think about it; God knows I have." Steve gave a humorless chuckle. "I flash a waiver under his nose, ask him to sign it, then tell him I'm a biologically perfect super soldier from almost a hundred years in the past who puts on tights to fight crime on the weekends, and oh, by the way, would you maybe like to get dinner sometime? It's too much, Clint. I'm too much."

A moment of understanding passed between them, and Clint nodded once. They fell silent again until the call came.

"We've got iing." Phil informed them over the line. "Hawk, get him in your sights. Captain, hit the ground."

They didn't say a word as they separated, each instantly and easily reverting to mission mindset. Steve hopped up and over the railing, sliding down until he was at a low enough height to jump. He fell into a tuck and roll, taking cover behind one of the tents. He was more than game to fight this "Thor", but it was always good to scope out a new opponent unhindered for a minute or two first if the opportunity presented itself.

Thor was easy to spot, huge and blonde and clearly enraged, taking out agents left and right as he fought his way straight to the hammer in the middle of the clearing. Steve signaled for the agents to fall back as he abandoned his cover and stepped out to greet the supposed "god".

"That's SHIELD property." Steve kept his chin tall, his voicemanding. "Youing the easy way, or are we going to have a problem?"

"I have no quarrel with your kind." The man was rathermanding himself, not so much as flinching at Steve's sudden appearance. "But I do find them quite contradictory. You have stolen what is mine, yet it is you who threaten me?"

"No one stole anything. From what I hear, you dropped it."

"You test my patience, small man. Dare you challenge me still?"

"I never did learn how to back outta'a fight." Steve felt more than heard his Brooklyn ent creep in as he chewed the vowels of 'out of a' like bubblegum. He was getting excited, adrenaline already flooding his system.

It'd been a long, long time since anyone had called him small.

Thor threw the first punch, but it was loose, wild with anger. Steve dodged easily, ducking under Thor's wide swing for a gut punch the larger man took without so much as a flinch. Thor's elbow came down on the back of his neck, hitting a nerve with such force that Steve momentarily saw stars. He rolled with the blow though, shooting forward out of Thor's range temporarily,ing back for a one-twobination he'd used to take out more than a hundred Nazi's back in the day.

The classics didn't work well on his newest foe though, who ducked away from the first blow and grabbed his hand on the second, pulling him close for an uppercut that nearly knocked Steve flat off his feet. While he was still reeling, Thor shot forward for a headbutt. Steve appreciated his mixed style, but saw iting just in time to bend backwards and use his momentum to turn it into a backflip. He used the flip to strike Thor twice, once with a kick to the stomach and again with a knee to the chin as he somersaulted away.

They circled each other a moment after that, each out of the others' range. Steve kept his shield up, while Thor wiped a hand across his bloody mouth, likely having bitten his tongue. Thor gave a strange, intrigued grin.

"Have you a name?"

"Steve Rob—Rogers. Steve Rogers."

"Peculiar. I am Thor, son of Odin. I admit my surprise at meeting a warrior of caliber in this realm."

"Back atcha." Steve grinned. "No chance I might convince you to work for the good guys?"

"The son of Odin works for no mortal."

"Too bad. We ought to go a few rounds again later though." With t

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