You look like a girl who could use some pie

Summary:
January 24, 2015: Sara and Steve touch base after the battle.

The Helicarrier

That biggole aircraft carrier that SHIELD has. The one that floats.


Characters

NPCs

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Mood Music:
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SHIELD is a huge organization. One made up of a great deal of incredibly competent people. So once she's done her part in taking apart HYDRA agents, Sara finds herself on the periphery of the activity, watching agents work like ants in a kicked anthill. Watching, yes. Taking note of what she sees and hears. But not pushing herself into any of it. And once they're on the helicarrier to head back to New York, she's heard and seen enough to be looking for a little bit of a break.

She's managed to find the cafeteria. Given that it's nowhere near a meal time, the place is relatively empty, which suits Sara fine at the moment. Quiet, she sits with her elbows on a table, head in her hands as she tries to process everything.

Eventually, Steve finds her. He was ordered to get the bullet removed from his shoulder and had to deal with everything that it entails from the tweezer tool to the gauze and the stitches. Because of the serum he took so long ago, it's doubtful he'll suffer any scarring. "Hey," he says as he takes the seat across from her and lowers himself to meet her gaze. "I wouldn't eat the meatloaf. Trust me."
Sara looks up as Steve sits down, glancing toward his shoulder first. "Hey," she greets quietly, smile flickering with a touch of relief. "I wouldn't worry too much about that. Pretty sure they're not serving anything until breakfast. Though, hey, if they have those awesome powdered eggs, I'm in for that." She props her chin up on one hand, pushing the other through her hair with a weary smile. "How about you? More or less in one piece still?"

"Less, but I'll be alright. Wish we would have gotten to Skull before HYDRA did," Steve says as he props his own chin in the hand of his good arm. "I know you have a life outside of this. I want you to know I appreciate what you've done and how you've helped."

"You and everyone else," Sara says ruefully, features softening at his words. "Hey, I'm glad to help," she says softly, reaching out to take his hand. "A little out of my depth, sometimes," she adds, wry. "But I'm glad to help. I, ah. I didn't mean to get quite so…" Rage. Blood. Fire. Kill. Something flashes in the red jewel at her wrist as she presses two fingers to her temple. "Sorry."

Steve gives her hand a squeeze as she takes it, "You don't need to apologize for anything. War brings out the worst in everyone. And sometimes the best. We did what we had to." Steve licks at his bottom lip before he adds, "Listen, I wanted to tell you I was sorry for my pithy comment about Christ's descendants. I don't believe he had any, but I didn't mean to disparage what happened to you."

Sara laughs softly, smile deepening at one corner. "You know the sad part, Steve?" she laughs. "That is the least weird thing that's happened to me since I found this thing. It's…" She pauses, taking a breath as she tries to choose her words. "I get it," she says after a moment. "I grew up Catholic. Mass every Sunday. I still go. Not every Sunday, but when I'm feeling a little lost about what it is I'm doing, I still go to church. I believe in God. I mean, how can I not? Paul died and went to Hell. You ask him, he talked to Lucifer. You run into enough of that, and you have to keep believing in the things you haven't seen. But I got there the hard way. You may be the super soldier, but when it comes to this stuff, you've still…got to find your own path through it."

Steve tilts his head and gives a weak smile. "I have. But that's the thing. I just hope we can coexist being so different." He tilts his head towards the counter, "You like a girl who wants some pie. Do you want some pie?"

"Faith is a funny thing," Sara smiles faintly. "Seems to me what matters is that you've got it. I'm not going to start a fight over the details of what you do or don't believe in." The offer of pie gets a deeper grin as she looks toward the kitchens. "Unless you lie to me about pie. You lie to me about pie, Rogers, and we're going to have words."

"I'll pull some strings," Cap responds as he gets to his feet and moves towards the kitchen. "I can pull rank. I'm a Captain, you know…"


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