#captain would not appreciate being referred to as 'ma'am'

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvok’s intake of breath/slight straightening of posture when Janeway says she spoke to his family before she left....................................................I can’t speak

[donutloverxo]

Salty Baby

Chapter six

Summary - When you moved to New York in hopes of living a glamorous life this isn’t what you expected. Steve offers to help you but your pride gets in the way. Pride isn’t going to pay your rent and college loans.

Chapter themes - This chapter you meet the Avengers. Will you be able to make a good impression on them? smut, semi-public sex, angry sex, jealous steve.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 3k

Masterlist is linked in bio! Previous chapters can be found in it!

You were nervous about getting lavish gifts from Steve, for the twenty-five five gifts of Christmas he was going to give you. Things you didn’t really need, like the diamond bracelet he got you for your two month anniversary. You couldn’t exactly wear those kinds of things to class. Where your classmates talked about was dungeons and dragons or whatever a doctor who is.

But Steve’s twenty-five presents, all of them, were anything but materialistic. You were amazed at how he personalised each of them specifically for you. He knew you so well and in such a short time. Like how he got you first edition Sylvia Plath books, which you actually had the time to read now, or how he woke you up with your favorite breakfast, or how he woke you up with his mouth. You liked that much more than the breakfast. He also got you a big cosy grey sweater that swallowed you whole.

“You look so cute” He beamed at you bending down to kiss your forehead. You couldn’t help but blush at that. “I’m not cute!” You almost stomped your foot “You’ll always be cute to me doll”

You were pleasantly surprised when Anna invited you and Steve for Christmas dinner at her place. You did miss your nephews. Brock was, as always, gone for work. She didn’t want to spend Christmas alone with the kids. She also had to make a dig at you, how you’ll be in the same boat as her, what with Steve’s demanding job. Which was far from the truth, but you let it go.

The only problem was that it was the same day as the Christmas party at the Avengers tower. Steve, being the angel that he is, said you could go to the party after dinner, it would probably start late anyway.

“Doll, how does this one look?” He asked as you stared at him noticing how thick he looked under the off white cable knit sweater.

You gulped down smoothening the flare of the white lace dress Steve gifted you. “It’s perfect Steve. And stop being so nervous! I told you I don’t care about Anna’s opinion”

“Yeah but she’s the only family you have. I want to make a good impression” he said giving you a pout which you kissed away.

Thankfully you didn’t have to ask him to not take his death trap of a motorcycle. He got you both an uber. You enjoyed the whole city lit up with the beautiful festive lights. You couldn’t help but think you wouldn’t be half as happy if you didn’t have your man sitting right next to you.

“Oh my god. Ca – Captain America” Anna stammered as she looked at your boyfriend. Right, you never did mention you were dating Steve Rogers.

“Ma'am” he gave her a curt nod handing her the non-alcoholic wine bottle he had got since she was pregnant. She pushed about how considerate he was. Which was true.

Your nephews, instantly loved Steve. It didn’t take much to impress them, the lego sets and other toys and chocolates you got them probably helped as well. Both of them hanging off of his biceps as he sweeped them off the floor. While Anna tried to process that The Captain America was standing in her living room.

She dragged you to the kitchen excusing you both away from Steve. “What is wrong with you?! You never told me you were dating Captain America!” She whispered harshly.

“What difference does it make?” She only shook her head calling you a liar “Omitting information is not the same as lying. On that note I haven’t really told him about Mom” You paused gauging her reaction “I would appreciate it if you didn’t either” You winced as she smirked at you. Wouldn’t she love having such power over you?

“What do I get in return?”

“What the fuck do you want?” you snapped.

“I’ll think about it. But remember that you owe me”

You couldn’t get her words out of your head. As you kept stabbing at your meatloaf barely eating it. Steve squeezed your thigh, under the dinner table as if to reassure you. He threw his head back at the kids antics and making polite conversation with Anna.

“I’ve worked with Rumlow before” He mentioned referring to the picture frames he saw of Brock.

“Oh goodness really? He never mentioned it. But he never really talks about work. Are you good friends?” She asked eagerly.

He cleared his throat sitting up straight “Not really. But I would like to get to know him better”

Friends was always a touchy subject for Steve. Having lost so many of them, you were amazed at how he was still willing to open his heart up. He couldn’t connect to or trust anyone in this era. He didn’t need to tell you that, you could sense it. You were almost anxious, did he feel connected to you? Atleast half as much as you did to him.

Maybe that’s why you were more scared to meet his ‘family’ than he was to meet yours. You had to crane your neck up, to the point that it actually hurt so you could get a view of the Avengers tower. It was majestic and maybe a bit over the top. Not really your cup of tea, but from what you heard from Steve about Tony Stark, he loved going all out. Which was probably why there were humongous reindeers next to the A of the Avengers.

“It’s amazing!” You gushed as you both got in the elevator making your way over to the party deck. You could see why they called it a white party. The Christmas tree decorated with silver and white ornaments, which seemed to be the theme of the party. “Oh” You let out as you read that all the decorations and the tree would be bio-degradable. How is that possible?

“Cap you finally made it” You turned around to look at a blonde man, who was taller and larger than Steve which you didn’t get to see everyday, and a redhead, whom you recognised as the black widow, greeting Steve. You quickly stood next to him, holding his hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

“Oh you must be Steve’s lady” He raved squeezing you into a tight hug, which would normally be uncomfortable for you but somehow it wasn’t when he did it. It was almost comforting, like a bear hug. You awkwardly patted his back. With your face smashed in his chest you could barely breathe.

You finally pushed him away trying not to hypnotised by his eyes wrinkled by his wide gein “Yes I am the lady” you chuckled nervously smoothening the wrinkles of your dress. You looked down at the pretty white thing. You had never even worn a dress before, you weren’t sure if it was for you.

“Hope Steve is treating you well” Black Widow smiled at you before looking at Steve. “Aren’t you gonna introduce us?” she raised a brow at him.

“This is Thor” Steve frowned at the bulky blonde out of the corner of his eye “And this is Natasha” She smiled shaking your hand. Now Natasha, she looked absolutely ravishing in her grey bodysuit, that seemed to hug her in all the right places, she looked like someone who was made to fit into a place like this.

“Can I borrow Steve for a minute? We have some business to attend to” She said lacing hers arm with his.

Your breathe hitched at the thought of being left alone. “I – uh” You stammered.

“I can keep you company if you like” Thor offered and you smiled at him. Feeling his presence already comforting. You thanked him letting Steve know that you were fine.

For the next hour, Thor told you all about his home, which was in another world, something you still couldn’t wrap your head around. His delinquent brother Loki, who’s never up to any good. And his girlfriend Jane who unfortunately couldn’t join you too. His face beamed up when you told him you study physics. “I believe that is what Stark does”

“Oh I’m not sure it would be the same field. But maybe” You hummed.

“Where is he” He looked around, his silky long strands shaking with his head. “Oh Clint! Come meet Steve’s lady” He called out to someone.

“Oh you know what? I think I have to use the restroom” You stood up abruptly collecting your clutch. “I’ll catch you later” You said briskly walking away. You had caught a glimpse of a balcony on the when on the way from the elevator to the party which was your destination. As much fun as it was supposed to be to hang out with everyone, how all your classmates and your sister were ‘so jealous' of you, you were exhausted and completely burned out.

You breathed in the cold fresh air as you stood near the railing of the balcony, which was empty save for a few people. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you felt the air creep chills up your body. You close your eyes, your teeth clammering as you tried to rub your arms to create some warmth

“You don’t look so comfortable there” Your eyes snapped open as you heard someone drawl out. You looked to your left, where the voice came from, and instantly recognized the face. You’d have to live under a rock not to. It was the man who saved New York.

“I’m fine” You brushed him off. Not knowing how you could possibly speak to such a larger than life personality.

“It’s a nice party. Isn’t it?” He moved closer to you standing just a few feet away from you now “No? I’ll try to do a better job next time I guess” He shrugged his lips curling up in a smile.

“It is nice. But – I don’t know” you stopped yourself “– I’m just an introvert”

“See that's what people get wrong. Introverts don’t hate parties. I know plenty of ‘em who are the life of the party in fact”

“Name one” You scoffed.

He hummed for a minute as if thinking it over “Oh the hulk!” you cringed as he yelled enthusiastically “Banner is an anti social geek but the hulk is actually a pretty fun guy if you get to know him” he said leaning on the edge of the balcony.

“I don’t think that counts. Hulk and Banner are not the same...” you trailed off not quite sure if they were or weren’t and this time he scoffed not believing you “It’s true!” you argued “just like how Steve and Captain America aren’t the same person”

“Who capsicle?” he tilted his head.

You tried to hold it in, you really did but you burst out a laugh and quickly held your hand over your mouth to contain it. “Cap – what does that even mean?” You shook your head finally giving in and throwing your head back laughing at the ridiculous nickname.

“There you are” You stopped laughing as soon as you heard that voice. You whipped your head to look at Steve approaching the two of you, his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve been looking all over for you” He said pulling you into him by grabbing your waist.

“Oh I’m sorry I got caught up -”

“You two know each other” Tony interrupted you and Steve introduced you as his girlfriend.

“We should get going. There are some other people I want you to meet” Steve said looking down at you, somewhat sternly, his tone reminding you of his authoritative side, the one he used on the battlefield and in bed with you.

You felt your heart beat fast and your mouth dry as you nodded. Steve held onto your wrist guiding you away from the balcony

“Wait!” Tony called out for you “don’t you wanna know what it means?”

“What’re you talking about?” Steve rolled his eyes, still pulling at your wrist but you stood your ground, you did want to know. You looked at Tony expectedly.

“He spent decades in the ice frozen like a capsicle” He chuckled “and because he always has a huge stick up his ass”

Your smile faltered at that. You thought it would be something fun his friends tease him with, but this just seemed mean-spirited. “It was nice to meet you Tony” You bid him goodbye and he waved you off as you walked with Steve back to the party.

You could feel Steve fuming beside you, but you weren’t exactly sure what he was angry at. You didn’t think a stupid nickname would make him so mad. You were about to ask him but you were pushed into a coat closet? What the hell? You yelped as your backside bumped against the desk in the middle of the closet. “What - Steve!” you scolded him as you looked at the brown grease on the desk stain your white dress. “this isn’t going to come off you know” you tried rubbing at it but you were sure it was ruined.

“What were you laughing about out there with Tony? I left you alone for barely half an hour” He said. His tone contained and cool. As if what he was saying was completely rational and true. Which only served to piss you off even more.

“You left me for an entire hour! You know I’m not good at these things. Why am I here?” You said pointing your at your chest “I’m here for you! And now you’re saying what? I’m flirting with other men?”

“That’s what it seemed like” He said with the same even tone and your hand twitched wanting to smack him across his stupid beautiful face.

“Whatever Steve” you shook your head pushing him away to get away from him. You never thought you’d need distance from your Steve. “Steve let me go” you pushed him again but you knew it would be of no use. You were no match against the great Captain America.

“No” He walked close to you caging you in till you had no where to go. You felt his hot breathe fanning against your face as he stared you down. You let out a breathe, disgusted that you could feel his erection against your thigh. That you were just as turned on.

“Fuck it” you leaned up on your toes crashing your lips onto his wrapping your hands around his neck, your teeth clattering together as his hands worked to push up your skirt and pull down your panties. He pushed you up to sit you on the desk and you cringed thinking of your once beautiful dress.

He pulls away from you, his face flushed and his lips swollen from your rough kiss. He put your panties into his dress pants. “I’ll buy you another one doll” But you didn’t know if he was referring to your dress or your panties. And frankly you didn’t care. You were so angry and hurt, that all you could think about was his dick inside you, your golden boy railing you in a fucking coat closet.

Your hands made quick work of unbuckling him and pulling him out of his briefs. His cock already hard and ready. You pulled it in to line him up with your entrance but he stopped you, swatting your hands away.

“I’m too big for you doll” He leaned into your ears to whisper, two of his fingers entering your channel. “And you’reso tight. We have to get your prepared” he groaned driving his fingers in and out of you adding a third one as you held onto his shoulders for life, biting into the crook of his neck to muffle your screams.

“Don’t you dare come” He warned you as he felt you clench around his fingers. You could only whimper to answer him, holding off on your release. Knowing that if you didn’t listen to him he wouldn’t fuck you. In that moment you felt as if you’d die if you didn’t feel his cock inside you. “Please fuck me” you tried to catch your breathe as tears clouded your vision. You cried as you felt his fingers slipping out of you. You were about to say that you didn’t come. That you were good. You deserved to get off!

But then, in one single thrust he pushed his cock deep inside you, hitting your g-spot. You sighed biting his earlobe and sucking on it as a way to thank him. The weight and warmth of him cooling down the burn in your core just a little bit. But you were still very much on edge.

He rolled his hip as he started fucking into you. You grabbed onto his hair with your hand pulling on it a bit. He groaned at that driving into you faster.

With his cock hitting your cervix, again and again with such ferocious pace, you couldn’t even remember what you were angry about. Were you angry? What were you doing in a coat closet? It didn’t matter, not really. The only thing that mattered was him, his cock inside you and your impending doom. “I need to come. Please “ You wailed unable to contain your sounds.

“Go ahead doll” he pulled away a bit to look into your eyes “I’m all yours” He drove his cock into you, in the way he knew you loved. He pushed your hair out of your face, staring at you so lovingly, feeling so vulnerable and overwhelmed you closed your eyes, if you didn’t see him he couldn’t see you either right?

You clenched around him as you felt him fill you up with his warm seed. Your orgasm hitting you like a tsunami. You felt completely spent, not being able to hold yourself up you laid your head on his shoulder.

Your high didn’t last for long. You felt him slip out of you, shuffling to take out a handkerchief and clean you up. You recalled what you were fighting about. How he mistrusted you even though you had given him no reason to do so. You hugged him closer not ready to address all those issues just yet. They could wait till you had had your moment with him.

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[bubbletimestories]

A good man (Vampire!Steve Rogers/Reader)

Summary: The super soldier's serum did not only give strength and endurance, Steve Rogers learned it at his expense and after decades of isolation, the vampire resumes service with the Avengers, hoping to be able to forget his nature to save lives. But your meeting risks destroying his hopes...or not ?

Warnings: blood, death, curses

Themes: vampire, transformation, love, heroism, choice

A/N. I don’t really like Captain America but...well, it was fun 

Translated with Google traduction, sorry ^^’

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23513203

******************************************************************

Chapter 3.

A wrathful voice echoes a few meters from the pasteboard decor and Steve puts down the files, intrigued and eager to change his mind. He pushes open the door, not at all surprised to find himself in a dark concrete corridor, and tries to find out where these vociferations can come from. In an adjoining room, much more austere than his bedroom, he finds a young woman waving sketches with an exasperated look under the worried gaze of the "nurse" who was at the soldier's bedside when he woke up.

- Have you ever looked at a photo? Or even seen a movie from that period? No wonder he discovered the hoax so quickly, he could see the strap of your ... rhaaa! It’s stupid!

You are deeply annoyed that no one took the time to listen to you before launching this ridiculous masquerade. You would have taken the time to take care of the costume down to the smallest detail, to ensure that the underwear is also vintage or even that the agent's hair is tied. But nobody is listening to you, nobody! With a wave of your hand, you dismiss the young lady who fled by snapping her heels, her man's tie (another mistake) hopping at each step. Exhausted, you drop into a chair with a dramatic sigh, not immediately noticing the man with the impressive build who enters the room. Politely, he clears his throat.

- Hmm ... You seem to know a lot about 1940s fashion.

You jump and look up, detailing the newcomer for a fraction of a second (you couldn’t resist) before taking control.

- I ... I love a job well done. It was a very elegant period.

Agent Carter, she was a beautiful woman who should have served as a reference. But obviously, you will not make this remark out loud, already knowing the relationships that Captain America had with her. Instead, you stand up and reach out to introduce yourself.

- Agent Y/L/N, I am delighted to know that you are with us. - Steve Rogers, me too, ma'am.

His big hand presses yours very gently, as if he were afraid of having too much strength and you smile. You know a certain Agent Coulson who will be delighted to know that his idol is awake. But for the moment, you appreciate having a face to face with the hero, not knowing if you will see him again one day. With a gesture, you invite him to sit down, pushing away the sketches strewn across your desk, a set of notes on vintage outfits, decorations ...

- Waking up seventy years after the war must have shocked you…

You’re trying to imagine how the young man might feel as he thinks about what to say to corroborate Nick Fury’s version. He never liked to lie, but he had to learn in the last century. So he nods.

- At the beginning, yes, but I'm glad to know that Hitler’s butt was kicked.

You have a laugh and he immediately appreciates this spontaneous sound, he is not sure to find much sincerity in this nest of spies. You think that he must feel very lonely, all his loved ones having disappeared or died.

- I know that this must be very confusing and that SHIELD is not really a warm den but I hope you can count me as a friend from now on. If you need to talk or just want to have a coffee, don't hesitate.

In spite of yourself, you replace a wick behind your ear, it was obvious that you were not going to stay stuck in front of the angelic air of the young man on whom you did a thesis. Well, to be precise, it was on "American and German propaganda figures in wartime, the conflict of icons" but you devoted a huge part to him.

- It would be my pleasure, Agent Y/L/N. - You can call me Y/N.

It'll probably take a while, but you'd love to be able to get close to him, just as a friend, of course. Unfortunately, it is not today that you will be able to get to know each other, an all-black agent coming to warn Captain America that Director Fury wishes to speak to him. You say goodbye quickly and watch him leave, thinking with a touch of emotion that you have thawed America’s ass, and successfully.

Chapter 1.

Murmurs circulate in the crowd of high ranking officers and scientists gathered for this major military and genetic advance. A super-soldier is an innovation that will pay off especially in these times of world war. Some people talk about money, a lot about peace that this hero of a new genre will offer. Installed in his capsule, Steve Rogers is far from being as enthusiastic, the heart beating strongly in his temples at the risk of deafening the final recommendations that are addressed to him. Already, they strap him, they prick him, they stuff him with tools to measure his heart rate, the thickness of his muscles as if he were only a laboratory animal and for a second, the young man is worried that the experiment would fail or, worse, that he would only become a clever monkey in the hands of the powerful ones. In a falsely playful tone, he turns to Dr. Erkskin:

- You save me any of that schnapps? - Not as much as I should have.

Anyway, he is not allowed to drink alcohol for a dozen hours, to make sure everything is in order. With a distracted ear, he listens to the scientist interact with Howard Stark, his attention constantly returning to Agent Carter who constitutes a warm presence in this huge icy room full of white coats. Before she goes to join her superiors, she takes the time to give him an encouraging smile and Steve regains some courage. A nurse sticks a needle in his arm, the sensation lasting only for a moment.

- That wasn’t so bad. - That was a tetanus shot.

Erskine exchanges a look with the patient but adds nothing, letting the maneuver continue as several tubes filled with blue liquid are brought in. The cold plates make the subject's thin body shudder, concentrating on his breathing. A reassuring hand is placed on his shoulder as he tenses up when he feels the serum penetrate his body. That's it, it's time to become a legend or die in front of a hundred people, nothing to worry about. The cabin closes in on him and after a final attempt at humor, Steve grits his teeth and prepares for the worst, repeating why he is doing all this, thinking about this war that he can end, all these soldiers who are waiting to see their mother, their sister, their relatives. He thinks of Bucky, it's his turn to protect him.

The cabin begins to radiate intense white light as if Steve is turning into a being of light and they will need an angel to defeat the dark forces that are crushing Europe. Everyone holds their breath as the silence fills with the roar of the Vita rays pulsing in the metal box. The buzz is soon joined by a cry of pain that goes on and on, cracking the certainties of some of the spectators who look at themselves, worried. They scream to stop everything, they shout his first name but Steve refuses, he can still hold on, there is no question that everything fails because of him. He is strong enough to bear it. The devices crackle in sparks in a final cacophony then everything stops, humming, blinding light and breathing of scientists and soldiers who, all, watch for a sign of life in the cabin. Is he dead ? Is he alive? Even Rogers is wondering as the doors open and he regains consciousness, his muscles on fire as if he had been passed under a tank. If he is in pain, it is sign that he is still alive, but in what condition?

Abs, abs, abs ... This word goes through more than one spirit as the result of the experiment is revealed, tall, muscular, glistening with sweat : a success. Some officers find themselves feeling more aroused than they should, coughing seriously as they rush to get a closer look at this super soldier they've been promised. Steve lets himself be supported by Erskine and Stark coming down from the capsule, his mind still foggy and struggling to understand how much he has changed. He is just sure of one thing, to see all these people gathered and who measure for the most a good less head than him: he grew up. As they begin to applaud and congratulate themselves, another thought comes to gnaw at the soldier's birth joy: how much has he changed inside? While cheer is a must, Steve sincerely hopes to rise to the challenge and become the hero the world needs, not just another monster.

***

Captain America, a somewhat snoring name but one that the young man has been carrying better since he delivered his friend from the clutches of HYDRA. Their exploits are starting to make headlines and enemy troops are increasingly worried about seeing the man with the blue, red and white breastplate appear. It took the soldier a while to get used to his new body and new abilities, but now he has mastered his strength and his shield to perfection, much to the amazement of his companion, James Barnes. The latter is just beginning to understand that he is no longer the protector in their duo, even if he still looks down to look for his almost brother, before remembering. Today, as he walks amid the smoldering rubble of a Nazi base, the young man has definitely regained hope for the future, carried (in part) by a little guy from Brooklyn.

- Steve? Where are you ?

Bucky sets out to find his partner, moving away from his comrades who sing their victory in a mixture of German, French and English. His worn boots resonate as he sinks into the dark, his gun in his hand and his senses on the alert, watching for shadows in search of a possible enemy. Soon, he finally see Steve's muscular back, molded in his blue mud-stained uniform. Bending over something, the hero seems focused on his task and does not immediately hear his friend, realizing too late that he is no longer alone.

- Steve ...

The man's livid face twists into a painful mask as he meets a shocked look, the soldier tensing his hand on the trigger of his weapon even if he does not shoot, frozen.

- Bucky ... I can explain ...

His voice broken by fear contrasts with the vision of the inert body near him, his throat ripped and scarlet like the octopus on his uniform, with the blood flowing on the chin of the famous Captain America.

Chapter 2.

Alone in his bunk, Steve cannot sleep, constantly crossing and uncrossing his thin arms to try to get the anxiety out. Tomorrow, he will finally be able to serve his country as he dreamed and he is delighted but that does not prevent him from being worried. With his usual compassionate air behind his glasses, Dr. Erskine joined him with a bottle of alcohol, fully understanding how tense the young man can be. Himself is far from being calm, didn't his last subject become a monster? As Steve voices his doubts about his legitimacy, the scientist feels it is time to reveal some things, secrets that make the enemy even more terrible.

After grabbing two glasses, Abraham begins to speak in his soft, pensive voice, as if he were counting a story, his story. The best ideas can become weapons if they fall into the wrong hands, and if so, should we really blame the inventor who just works under the threat of a weapon? In a few words, Erskine paints a portrait of the head of HYDRA, this Schmidt obsessed with power and the occult arts, ready to sell his soul to acquire supremacy. Captivated and understanding what role the supersoldier formula could have played in this plan, Steve asks:

- Did it make him strong?

His friend looks down, the images going up in his memory, as vivid and burning as a brand with a hot iron. Whatever the outcome tomorrow, he can never forgive himself for his failure, only trying to compensate for it.

- Yes, but there were….other effects. The serum was not ready, but more important, the man... The serum amplifies what is inside. Good becomes great... Bad becomes worse.

Schmidt was bad, rotten to the core and the serum only exposed this darkness to everyone's. Each time Abraham closed his eyes, he saw the gray skin, the protruding veins, the pupils as scarlet as the blood that the Nazi was thirsty for, so thirsty. Here in the United States, the word "vampire" sneers but it is this, a terrible and voracious creature that will not stop until it has bled the world to the last drop. Chasing this image to return to the present, the scientist pours schnapps in the two glasses while explaining to Steve how important his physical weakness and his sense of justice are.

- Whatever happens tomorrow, promise me you’ll stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier...but a good man.

They cheer, but before the young man can take a sip, Erskine reminds him that he must be fasting for the next day's procedure. Docile, Steve hands him his glass and lets the genius scientist get drunk in his place since he doesn't need to be fasting. And, thinks the old man, it may be better not to be sober. Did Rogers even understand how much this experience was going to affect him? It's not certain, but Abraham doesn't feel strong enough to talk about it any longer. It may be a sign of cowardice but he prefers to leave his hopes to this young man so invested, determined and pure.

Chapter 3.

The war is over. Nazi Germany was defeated and the world slowly fell back to sleep in a peace intended to make people forget the horrors that were more than 50 years ago now. Forces continue to operate to seize power but in a much more subdued way, the fighting between Good and Evil is now held in the utmost secrecy. Housed in a replica of a 1940s hospital room, the man known as Captain America reads and rereads files for information. Obviously, he plays the idiots as he was asked, affecting not to have known the last decades. To his amazement, the idea that he could have been frozen in a block of ice comes as no surprise, and this version was swallowed by the agents who come and go in the corridors chatting. Perhaps it is a more acceptable vision of things than the truth.

Slowly, the young man raises an arm in front of his face, the rays of a false sun hitting his skin as he thinks of what he is, a supernatural and immortal being that people are once again seeking to enlist to save the world. Although he was told about a team, made up of Tin men, Nordic gods and greenish monsters. This Nick Fury must be crazy to want to surround himself with such fairground phenomena ... or a genius. The vampire's blue eyes veil slightly when he thinks of Dr. Erskine, who died far too quickly before he can guide the young man into his new life. So far, Steve has refused to join civilization and its wars: Vietnam, Korea, he has avoided all of them but what would his mentor say about the next? Would he encourage him to join this SHIELD and his hero program?

- I don't care about the rush, you could at least have put on a suitable bra! Round cups, I don't believe it!

A wrathful voice echoes a few meters from the pasteboard decor and Steve puts down the files, intrigued and eager to change his mind. He pushes open the door, not at all surprised to find himself in a dark concrete corridor, and tries to find out where these vociferations can come from. In an adjoining room, much more austere than his bedroom, he finds a young woman waving sketches with an exasperated look under the worried gaze of the "nurse" who was at the soldier's bedside when he woke up.

- Have you ever looked at a photo? Or even seen a movie from that period? No wonder he discovered the hoax so quickly, he could see the strap of your ... rhaaa! It’s stupid!

You are deeply annoyed that no one took the time to listen to you before launching this ridiculous masquerade. You would have taken the time to take care of the costume down to the smallest detail, to ensure that the underwear is also vintage or even that the agent's hair is tied. But nobody is listening to you, nobody! With a wave of your hand, you dismiss the young lady who fled by snapping her heels, her man's tie (another mistake) hopping at each step. Exhausted, you drop into a chair with a dramatic sigh, not immediately noticing the man with the impressive build who enters the room. Politely, he clears his throat.

- Hmm ... You seem to know a lot about 1940s fashion.

You jump and look up, detailing the newcomer for a fraction of a second (you couldn’t resist) before taking control.

- I ... I love a job well done. It was a very elegant period.

Agent Carter, she was a beautiful woman who should have served as a reference. But obviously, you will not make this remark out loud, already knowing the relationships that Captain America had with her. Instead, you stand up and reach out to introduce yourself.

- Agent Y/L/N, I am delighted to know that you are with us. - Steve Rogers, me too, ma'am.

His big hand presses yours very gently, as if he were afraid of having too much strength and you smile. You know a certain Agent Coulson who will be delighted to know that his idol is awake. But for the moment, you appreciate having a face to face with the hero, not knowing if you will see him again one day. With a gesture, you invite him to sit down, pushing away the sketches strewn across your desk, a set of notes on vintage outfits, decorations ...

- Waking up seventy years after the war must have shocked you…

You’re trying to imagine how the young man might feel as he thinks about what to say to corroborate Nick Fury’s version. He never liked to lie, but he had to learn in the last century. So he nods.

- At the beginning, yes, but I'm glad to know that Hitler’s butt was kicked.

You have a laugh and he immediately appreciates this spontaneous sound, he is not sure to find much sincerity in this nest of spies. You think that he must feel very lonely, all his loved ones having disappeared or died.

- I know that this must be very confusing and that SHIELD is not really a warm den but I hope you can count me as a friend from now on. If you need to talk or just want to have a coffee, don't hesitate.

In spite of yourself, you replace a wick behind your ear, it was obvious that you were not going to stay stuck in front of the angelic air of the young man on whom you did a thesis. Well, to be precise, it was on "American and German propaganda figures in wartime, the conflict of icons" but you devoted a huge part to him.

- It would be my pleasure, Agent Y/L/N. - You can call me Y/N.

It'll probably take a while, but you'd love to be able to get close to him, just as a friend, of course. Unfortunately, it is not today that you will be able to get to know each other, an all-black agent coming to warn Captain America that Director Fury wishes to speak to him. You say goodbye quickly and watch him leave, thinking with a touch of emotion that you have thawed America’s ass, and successfully.

Chapter 4.

Rubbing your hands covered with dried blood on your pants, you finally take a break after several hours caring for the wounded, civilians and agents. What the media already calls the "Battle of New York » will not have lasted long, a few hours at most, but the damage has been immense, the victims numerous. However, these are happy mines that flourish in the streets because the crowd has found new protectors and a whole team! No doubt that the coming days will be devoted to these heroes and their courage, you are looking forward to them.

Exhausted, broken and dreaming only of sleeping for several weeks, the Avengers finally return to base to take rest and you resist the urge to throw yourself on the neck of the man in a starry blue suit who is chatting for the moment with the famous Tony Stark. He has managed to drag the whole little troop to a shawarma restaurant and he is very proud of it. After giving the billionaire a friendly pat on the shoulder, Steve manages to slip away, promising to taste, next time, this dish stuffed with onions which he could not touch because of a nasty blow to the jaw. The poor man is exhausted from having fought for so long and if the sun, contrary to legend, does little to affect his vampiric nature, he does not like to stay in broad daylight for so long. It is therefore with joy that he finds the dark corridors of SHIELD and smiles sincerely when he sees you.

- Not bad for a start, Captain.

You can't help but tease him, enjoying seeing an amused glow light up the blue eyes of the nonagenarian. Even if you will not admit it in front of witnesses, this day was rich in strong emotions and not only when you came to the aid of the injured but also, and above all, because you only had one fear: to see the young man tragically dying in battle. Once out of sight, you do not hesitate to let out a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall receiving the backlash from all this accumulated anguish.

- It was fuc…so scary...

You who imagined keeping your calm in front of him, you feel your legs swaying, as if you had only just realized how lucky you were. It must be said that you were far from being prepared for a threat of this magnitude, an unimportant little agent that you are. Seeing your trouble, Steve reaches out with a shy hand to support you, holding you by the arm in case you want to fall. - We have succeeded, Loki will be judged on his planet, New York will rise again. You can catch your breath.

- I hope you're right ...

You straighten up, a little calmer, and raise a hand to spread a lock of hair in front of your eyes, by reflex. When he sees your palms dirty, your friend is worried but you reassure him with a gesture.

- It's not mine, I just healed a lot of wounds today. I'm going to go clean up.

The advantage of SHIELD is that they kept the old water fountains in the corridors as if we had never left the 80s. So you only have a few steps to be able to rinse your hands, conscientiously rubbing your palms to remove the brown plates. Maybe it's the sight of the water turning pink or the tiredness accumulated but Steve feels the hunger start to burn his throat like a fire and he tenses up behind you. Isolated in concrete basements, it is not certain that someone will pass by there for several hours and if the young man acts quickly, you will not even have time to shout before losing consciousness while he will drink.

- Casually, seeing you fight like that, it made me want to do something. - What?

Captain America shakes his head, chasing away the terrifying thoughts that had started to plague his reason, shocked by his own darkness. How could he have considered hurting you, especially you who are always so nice, so warm ?! Tetanized by shock and a devouring thirst, Steve does not make a gesture when you approach him, sliding your hand into his before standing on tiptoe to reach his lips, depositing a kiss of which you have been dreaming for a long time (maybe even before they thaw him, we all have a historic crush ...). The gesture is so surprising, so sweet, that the young man feels his vampiric impulses fade as the wind would chase a dark cloud from the sun. Without thinking, he hugs you with one hand and gives you your kiss. How long has it been since he tasted a woman's lips? Since Peggy, probably. You’re far from being the same, you don’t even have anything common, but it’s just as intense.

Too fast for your liking, you move away from each other and you touch the bruise that already marks the chiseled jaw of the hero before you step back, pink with pleasure and excitement.

- We will have to treat that... Rest, soldier.

Your face lights up with a big smile and you slip away like a teenager, displaying surprising joy for a SHIELD agent. Left alone, Steve still analyzes what has just happened, the reddened cheeks bringing out his surprised pupils. One thing is certain, he loved this kiss from start to finish, so much that you made him forget his thirst for blood…

Chapter 5.

The detachment sent by Fury to Sokovia has only time to deploy as the robots begin to attack from all sides, not hesitating to target the buildings to make them collapse on the fleeing crowd. While evacuating entire families, you have to shoot androids like video game characters and you are not alone in finding this surreal. However, you have had time to prepare for the past three years, as your intensive training has made you much more effective on the field. As a gas cylinder explodes a few meters away, carrying half a dozen Ultrons, a colleague takes the time to joke.

- When it’s all over, Thor should invite me to dinner. - In that case, do you think Wanda Maximoff will be free for a coffee? I don't know yet if I want her or want to be her.

You laugh at your own remark before dodging a projectile, refocusing on your task to help everyone go to safety. The terrified screams mingle with the explosions and the rumbling of the buildings which are falling apart but you are not afraid, you do not have time to be afraid. You run through the streets, adrenaline pumping through your veins and making you more confident. A robot appears between you and a couple who remains paralyzed by fear, the two men taking each other's instinctively by the hand when they see their last hour arrived. Without waiting, you draw your weapon, aim the metal head where there is a chance of finding a weakness. Your bullet penetrates the metal without succeeding in destroying the attacker but it has the merit of attracting his attention.

- Run!

You are ordering civilians without trying to find out if they will understand, relying on their survival instinct to take off as quickly as they can. The android rushes towards you by launching a projectile that you avoid justice, the impact tearing off a section of wall that falls to dust. By reflex, you strike where you can to unbalance the machine, shooting without having time to aim. An iron fist closes on your wrist and twists it to make you drop your weapon, two expressionless eyes darting on you a blue gleam. Taking advantage of being lifted by the android, you band your muscles and throw your legs into the robotic chest, hoping to make him let go. You succeed and your opponent impaled on a metal rod protruding from the wall before dying out. No time for a well-felt response to the dangers of tetanus, you catch your breath and pick up your gun. A deafening roar suddenly sounds, filling the whole space, louder and longer than a thunderclap. In your headset, the officers panic, shouting that the ground is cracking under their feet, the city splitting in half like a cookie. You can feel the vibrations, see the buildings lose their height and your confidence falters slightly. How to save a city that is falling apart?

- I'm going to do my best ... I have to.

With this decision, you return to combat, hoping that SHIELD will quickly send something to evacuate the civilians. As for the heroes who are currently fighting the origin of this chaos, you can only pray that they come out victorious and all alive. You refuse to worry about them and for one in particular, it would only slow you down. But that doesn't stop you from threatening in the wind, without fear of being rebuked for your language.

- Steve, if you die, I summon your ghost and kick your ass.

He is busy on his side, issuing orders, hitting enemies with his shield, working as a team with Agent Romanoff when their paths cross. His superhuman strength is very useful in destroying robots, but he can do nothing if the city crashes. It is out of the question that Ultron causes more losses, the hero will prevent it by all means. Like you, he is determined to do everything, until he has no breath of life. Between two attacks, he thinks of you, your smile, your jokes, the feeling of your body under his. If he survives, he'll admit certain things to you, you've been waiting too long and you've offered him so much ... he has to be honest. But for that, it is still necessary to stop the demonic puppet created by Stark.

Nick Fury's rescue vessels arrive, deploying all around town to collect civilians and transport them to safety. When you learn this, you breathe a sigh of relief even though there is still a lot of work to be done. Around you, the world is nothing but metallic ruins and wrecks as the ground continues to shake. Robots fly over your head, shooting everywhere at once, increasing panic. Officers disperse to guide the crowd toward the rafts, their orders hardly covering the hubbub. You run everywhere, supporting the wounded, redirecting groups to keep them safe. Many people have been knocked down and trampled on in panic, they must be helped by trying to remain calm despite the calls, the terrified screams, the explosions.

- Помощь!

A child drums against the window of a car, coughing and crying at the same time begging you to come to his rescue. On the driver's seat, the one who must be his mother is unconscious, her forehead bloody. You rush and try to open the door but it is pushed in, the twisted metal preventing any opening. Not speaking Russian, you put your hand on the glass to reassure the little boy before telling him to step back as far as possible with gestures that you hope are simple but clear. It takes a little while for the child to obey, but when you shatter the window, he has the reflex to protect himself with his arms. You slide into the passenger compartment to take the little guy against you, whispering comforting words while trying to keep a soft and calm tone even if you see the smoke starting to escape from the car. You are running out of time, you cannot save the mother and if you delay too long, the three of you will die. Despite the child's screams, you start running towards the lifeboats, telling yourself that there is nothing more you can do, that you are saving a life.

The breath of the explosion hurls you forward and you hit the pavement covered in debris as you roll with the little boy hugged, absorbing the shocks. Stunned, you try to get up but something lifts you off the ground and takes you away immediately, so fast that you barely have time to realize what is happening before being placed in the midst of the survivors with your precious load. A young man with white hair gives the mother of the child to whom he can provide care, taking the opportunity to catch his breath. You get up with a painful, relieved grin.

- Thank you, Mr. Maximoff. - Pietro. Or Quicksilver, if you get me a drink.

He winks at you and starts off in a flash, disappearing as quickly as he came. You decide to do the same, you don't have much time left to evacuate the population, the city is already way too high in the sky. Ignoring your limbs screaming in pain, you leave the ship by drawing on your last reserves. A real hero fights till the end.

***

Sokovia collapsed in a rain of stones and dust but its inhabitants are unharmed, taken in by SHIELD for time to be treated and placed in a safe place. As the debris continues to fall into the sea, Steve Rogers circles the heliporter to reassure civilians, taking the time to offer comforting words to those in need. But seemingly, his blue eyes are looking for a particular shape, and he feels divided between anxiety and relief by not noticing you. Although, he soon smells a familiar but oh so terrifying smell: that of your blood. Hidden out of sight like a dying animal, you are seated against a wall, your hand pressed against your black, sticky side.

- Y/N! - Hush... there are some who rest here ...

You stick out your tongue, happy to see him even in these circumstances. Seeing his gaze slid towards your wound, you shrug with detachment.

- There are already far too many injured people to be treated, I am not a priority.

The young man cannot blame you, he would have exactly the same reaction if he was injured. And if he were mortal too. Suppressing his urge to give you a sermon, he kneels down to be at your height, running a hand over your livid, already frozen brow.

- What happened ? - Oh you know, you walk in the street, you come across a robot, you fight, you are injured. Routine…

You’re proud that you’ve managed to get the words out in a coherent order, your mouth becoming mushy and your ideas muddled by draining your blood. You vaguely wonder if you could touch your guts by slipping your fingers into the wound, but it's an idea far too twisted to express it out loud. Instead, you smile at your lover, hoping that his presence will warm you as usual.

- Mission accomplished, Captain ...

It would have sounded like a good sentence before dying tragically but you still have a little strength, a little time maybe. Because you know it is no longer useful, you release your arm, dropping your hand without trying to compress your injury. You look at the hero's tight jaw, his mouth on which you have placed so many kisses, his eyes that fill with tears. Even like that, he's sexy, almost annoying. For now, you can read in his eyes how desperate he is but also the internal conflict that eats away at him. The young man loves you deeply and he has a way to save you and keep you with him forever but the price is too high. He cannot inflict this on you who knows nothing.

- Y/N… I'm sorry… - Do it, Steve.

You look him straight in the eye, very serious, while tilting your head to keep his hand on your cheek, taking advantage of this contact as long as it lasts. Your reply surprises the hero who widens his eyes without understanding. Poor little man so innocent, you really have to put the dots on the "i".

- Transform me, honey, you have my permission.

If he could hurry a little, it would work out, but Steve is too shocked to react, opening his mouth several times before stammering.

- You knew ?! - Of course... but that doesn't change anything for me.

You smile, obviously you knew, you read his files and then you have been around him long enough to be aware of certain things. Nick Fury is also aware and it even makes sense. He’s the head of SHIELD, he wasn’t going to welcome the first guy with a flashy costume on the pretext that he would have saved the world. Your body no longer supports you and you slide on the ground as a black fog fills your head, obscuring your vision, vaguely feeling the blood soaking your clothes.

- Shit ... I put blood everywhere ...

You pass out before Steve can blame you for your language, your last words being neither grand nor elegant. You become a pale and bloody rag doll in the arms of Captain America, this man who has already lost so much. He whispers your name by caressing your icy skin, half cradling you without succeeding in driving your request from his mind. He can save you, he has the power but he refuses, it would not be fair to inflict such a life on you, made of blood and insatiable appetite.

No ... what is not fair is that he is still forced to sacrifice his happiness, that yet another person dies before his eyes. Erskine, Bucky, Peggy, he has given up on so many loved ones over time... It is not fair, he has done nothing to deserve so much pain. A rebellious anger swells the heart of the hero who furiously wipes the tears on his cheeks while looking at you. He always obeyed orders, did what he thought was right. This time he will act neither for America nor for a noble cause but for you, for him. At least you, he'll keep you by his side, he can protect you.

- I love you, Y/N.

Determined, Steve takes whatever he can to cut his throat, resting your mouth on the wound hoping that you still have enough life to taste his blood. The ferrous liquid falls on your lips and into your throat while the young man bites in your wrist as gently as possible, simply piercing the skin to collect a few scarlet drops. Let's just hope that the serum will change your metabolism as it upset Rogers' metabolism years ago. But it is too late for scientific considerations or logic.

***

- ... and it was because he was covered with the blood of his enemies that he was nicknamed "Red Skull"? - Yes, a very morbid nickname but which he wore wonderfully.

Sitting on your bed, Steve looks at you with tenderness as you ask him a multitude of questions, lying on the mattress and completely recovered from your injuries. Tirelessly, you pass and pass your arm in a ray of light, surprised not to fall to dust. You have to believe that legends are wrong about vampires, they don't really fear the sun.

- I haven't changed physically, I can go out in broad daylight ... It's easy to be a vampire, I don't see why you make a big deal of it! - It seems that you are a good woman, Y/N.

If it had not been the case, you would have become a bloodthirsty creature like Schmidt or, in the best of cases, you would have died and you would have been buried like any SHIELD agent who died during his service. Fortunately, everything is now arranged and you can lure the famous Captain America against you to kiss him with passion. After all, you have all of eternity before you.

Hope you liked it, don’t hesitate to send a nice comment. Take care, stay safe, you are wonderful 

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Capt. Syverson-Chapter One: Evaluation

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Shane Benton gets a new patient, veteran “Sy” Syverson. He’s one of the most complex cases she’s had, in more ways than one. She thinks he’s already starting to like her and what’s worse...she feels the same.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None, really, mentions of war and trauma and some hate on the Chicago Cubs, but like…it’s not MEAN! (I’m a Missouri girl, and for the purposes of this fic, Sy is a Missouri boy, and we will bleed for our sports teams. Lol!)

A/N: Inspired by this post right here, and hopefully turning into some splendid fluffy and smutty stuff for my lovely Cavillry babes all around including the two that essentially forced me into this. Lol! (I’m thinking I’ll have at least three or four more chapters.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3.

Tags: @onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive

Let me know if you wish to be added to the list! I’m happy to do it! 

Shane was working on her morning's notes as she scarfed down her lunch. So many hand's-on patients made for a busy so called "lunch hour." Time which their boss was always reminded them was only half for their personal use, and could be taken away if census demanded. She was pretty sure it wasn't legal to make such threats, but thankfully, the secretaries usually had the therapists backs.

As she typed, she got a notification in her messenger app.

Just a head's up, your 1:30 is such a major babe I could barely look at him while I checked him in, so good luck with that.

Heather, one of her best friends in the office, had warned her, as she always did when there was a potential problem with a patient.

Oh, and his KOOS score is 27.5! Yikes! Shit, she'd seen arthritic grandparents with better scores on that test, which essentially rated your ability with the affected knee. Ideal was 100. She pulled up his chart review to see what she was getting herself into with this guy.

Tricare insurance, so, a vet. And only a year older than she was, so, recent discharge, or even active duty. She pulled up his order…shit. Traumatic tear of the anterior cruciate ligament. With damage to the medial collateral ligament as well. And a patellar dislocation. Repairs had been done, but this guy was in bad shape. He was going to be coming a while.

She replied to Heather.

Damn, that's bad. I'm looking at his order, and I'm already thinking I'm gonna want to try to keep him on my schedule if we can. And three times a week. If not with me, Jordan, if he's got openings. Can you start working on that when you have time?

Sure thing…I think you'll be glad you kept him on your caseload once you get a look at his face…and like all of him. Even on crutches, he's tall as shit!

Heather, come on. I'm a professional. I have a doctorate ffs. Lol

You also have a uterus, to the best of my knowledge, and it's about to explode. Promise.

Haha, okay. I'll be out for Prince Charming in about ten. Lemme pop a breath mint and run a brush through my hair.

Good call.

Shane did just that, but still pulled her dark hair back into her customary functional high ponytail, made sure there was no stray food on her shirt, and headed out of her treatment room for her patient.

As she walked down the hall to the waiting area to get him, she noticed a slumped and bearded figure leaning forward on a set of crutches, a KC Chiefs baseball cap slipping up off of his forehead revealing short cropped dark hair. She smiled at his repping one of her home teams, and stepped up to him, greeting him warmly, but formally.

"Mr. Syverson?"

"Ma'am." he said, as he adjusted his cap and stood immediately at attention, still relying on the crutches, but making himself as tall as possible. He really was a soldier. Despite her proximity to Fort Leonard Wood here in St. Robert, Missouri, she didn't see many military men.

"Hi, My name is Shane. I'm a physical therapist. I'm going to be working with you today."

"Oh, okay. They told me my therapists name was Shane, I figured…"

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Don't worry, I act like one of the guys. You'll hardly notice."

"I doubt that." he muttered, but she ignored it. She didn't know which would be worse. Him being a macho chauvinist who couldn't deal with a female therapist, or having a crush on her and making things weird. She'd had both. And it never ended well for her.

"Well, let's go have a chat in the treatment room."

They walked toward the room she'd just left, and when they arrived, she asked him to set on her plinth mat.

"Could you please verify your date of birth for me? Gotta make sure I got the right patient in here."

"May the 5th, 1983."

"Thanks, and the last four of your social?"

He told her, quietly, and against her will, a shiver ran up her spine at the softness the bear of a man exhibited in his voice when trying to maintain privacy. But she kept her composure.

"Excellent." she began typing her eval note, and asking him questions. He began telling the harrowing story of the mission, the mission that effectively ended his career in the military as he knew it. At lest, what he could tell her. Obviously some of it was classified, but certain details she would need to know in order to know how he it and how to treat him. She could tell he was trying to hold it together. Reliving the trauma was probably triggering to an extent. Her heart went out for the broad-chested, blue-eyed man.

"God, that's incredible. The fact that you're alive is amazing, Mr. Syverson."

"I go by Sy, ma'am. And as aware as I am of that, it's tough to feel good about it when some friends in my squad weren't so lucky." he examined the pattern on the tile floor as he rubbed the heel of his hand against the wide thigh of his injured leg. A nervous habit, she presumed. She had similar quirks.

"That must be difficult for you." she knew she was getting off-track from what she needed for her SOAP note, but after all, he was going to be on her caseload exclusively for the foreseeable future. She'd have time to flesh out the goals and basically finish the eval next visit.

"Yeah, but I know there's a lotta guys' got it worse'n me, ma'am."  

"We think that should make it better, but it never does. And if I'm calling you 'Sy,' you have to cut the ma'am business. It's Shane, even to my patients." she smiled.

"Sorry, m--sorry. Habits die hard."

"Just like John McClean." she chuckled, not expecting him to get her ridiculous movie humor. But he laughed.

"Did you just make a Die Hard reference?" he smiled, and the sunshine of it paired with the stunning blue of his eyes nearly sent her flying into the wall. Thankfully, she had something to occupy her gaze in the form of her laptop, where she tried to document on him.

"Did you just get one of my movie references? Because nobody around here appreciates that I'm a total movie nerd. I'm wasted on these people."

"Ya know, maybe you're right about feeling like I'm getting PT from a guy." he chuckled.

"I told ya!" she laughed, but tried not to let her heart sink too far.

The evaluation continued with her doing strength and range of motion measurements on his knee. "Okay, push against my hand…now resist when I push…now bring your foot back against my hand…and resist when I pull." she did this with both sides to compare relative strength. "Great job. Okay, I'm going to see how much range you have in your knee. Lay back on the table for me, please." she thought she saw a flirty glint in his eye, but again, she ignored it. She had a job to do. And it was to hold this goniometer up to his knee and see how many degrees of flexion and extension this man had in the joint while trying not to think any salacious thoughts about the thigh connected to it.

"Okay, now, listen, Sy, I know it goes against your instinct, but I'm looking for pain-free range of motion, here, so don't be a hero. Don't move it farther than you can without hurting it. And let me know if it starts to hurt when I move it."

"Yes, ma'am." he winked.

"I'll let that one slide, I guess." she giggled. She concentrated on the numbers she was getting from the big protractor, and typing them into her eval, and not the man lying before her.

"Okay, I'm gonna get the other knee now to compare for goals."

He nodded.

"Were you pretty active before this happened?" she was more or less making small talk, as she could tell by the condition of the rest of his body that he was incredibly fit.

"Yes, m--yes, I was. We had a gym on base, nothin' like what y'all have here, just some machines and a few free weights."

"No bikes or treadmills or anything?" She herself liked the elliptical, but knew it was a considered more of a girl's machine in the gym world.

"Nah, with electric being spotty where we were stationed, we sorta had to…get creative, I guess you could say, for cardio." she let it slide, apparently there was an inside joke to which she wasn't privy.

"Right, understandable. Well, here, we don't have to get that creative. I'm gonna put you on some equipment gradually, and just warm up the knee, then get to work on joint mobilization and myofascial release. But at this point in Dr. Potter's protocol, he only wants gentle stretching and weight bearing as tolerated. We can start a bit of strengthening after next week."

"So, you think I'll be back to running anytime soon?"

"We can make that a goal, Sy, because I can absolutely get you there. But you're going to have to take it slow. You've got not one, but three major injuries we have to contend with, and there is major trauma in there. But it will heal. With time and effort. And like I said, don't be a hero. The number one rule of therapy is 'if it hurts, don't do it.'"

"I'll hold you to that, m--Shane."

"You're a quick study, Sy. I think you'll be alright. Looks like Heather's put some appointments in for you already. If any of them don't work, call us, and we'll try to get them swapped. I'd like to keep you on my schedule as much as possible, but if there's a conflict in your schedule, any of our therapists will be terrific. And I'll make sure they're looking at your chart and protocol thoroughly before seeing you."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"Okay, I'm gonna print out your schedule for you, and a few exercise handouts I'd like you to work on, especially on days you don't come here. And I'll know if you don't do them, because you won't have improved…so, you better do them."

"Yes, ma'am." she half expected a salute. She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, maybe I'll give you three strikes on the ma'am thing."

"Baseball fan, too?"

"Not that three strikes is so obscure that I'd have to be to know it, but, yes! Major St. Louis Cardinals fan."

"I knew I was gonna like you from the start. Although, being brought up 'round Kansas City m'self, I'm more of a Royals fan."

"Hey, only time I don't root for KC is when they're playing my Redbirds. And even if my team loses to them, it hurts less than if they lose to, say…the Cubs." they shared a scowl of disdain for the Chicago team. "Although, I was happy for them and their fans when they won the series back in 16."

"Yeah, I guess we could afford to let them win one in a hundred years…I'm hoping their next one comes long after I'm in the ground." he chuckled.

"Can't have them getting a big head, can we?"

"Nope! Sure can't!" they both laughed at their mutual interest in dissing rival sports teams.

"Okay, I'll be right back with those handouts." she ran to the office all in one machine to grab the papers she'd printed for him, making sure they were all his and not another patient's. She put them in one of their folders and headed back to her room where he sat on the mat, waiting for her with a smile under his rather impressive beard.

"Before I let you out of here, what questions can I answer for you about what we did today?"

"Oh, uh, nothing comes to mind. You explained everything really well. Did you look at my schedule? Am I with you all the time?"

"Hmm, let's see here, looks like the next two, yes, but I'm off next week, so Heather put you with Jordan, which is what I asked her to do. You two will work great together and he's got a great instinct for injuries like this. And I'll talk to him before I leave. He's one of the best PTAs I've ever worked with, I promise."

"I guess, if you have to take a vacation. I'll see you next time though."

"I'm looking forward to it. That's when the real work will begin, Sy. And our number is on in this paperwork if you have questions, and I've put my card in here, too." they shook hands, and he grabbed the folder from her.

She saw him out of the room and into the lobby. She'd finished with him a bit early, but her next one was already waiting. She needed a break. To collect herself. To breathe.

"Jason! Hey! Go on and get on the recumbent bike, level two. Ride until I get there. We'll get a lot done today if you're already warmed up. I've got a note to finish. And then I'll be in. I should be 15 or less."

While the 19 year old with a torn meniscus hopped to her instructions, she went back to her computer to attempt to finish Sy's eval and pretend that she didn't already have a serious and intense crush on him. This was going to be a long twelve weeks…at least.

Up Next: Chapter Two-Therapeutic Procedure