#in honor of ww84 not coming out this month i am pretending that it doesn't exist

[melodious-madrigals]

***

Steve knows what a television is, and how it works, okay?

Well, he understands it conceptually.

(In theory, anyways.)

It shows a moving picture; it’s one of the technological leaps that has happened since he ‘died’. He’s seen glimpses of what Diana’s computer and mobile phone can do, with their sleek lines and the way they light up and retrieve information faster than he can comprehend. He’s seen the display screens in the metros, and the streaming advertisements that flash by as the train speeds through the dark tunnels, the sequences of pictures that replicate people in motion, a little disjointed but just as good as the cutting edge moving pictures he saw in the 1910s. But in the month that he’s been in the 21st century, he’s never actually seen one of these movies that everyone talks about, or anything on the Tee-Vee, really.

To be clear, he doesn’t particularly feel like he’s missing out. Diana doesn’t have a television in her apartment, and even though Barry has scoffed at this fact all four (4) times Steve’s met him (time he pulled him a hundred years forward in history inclusive), there are plenty of other things for them to do.

(For one thing, Steve has yet to exhaust the new and creative ways in which he wants to worship Diana’s body, thank you very much.)

The point is, Steve does not care a whit about television or moving pictures beyond a cursory, isn’t-the-future-interesting sort of way.

And then Diana suggests that they go to the cinema on a date.

"I think you'd enjoy it," she says, and maybe he's an absolute sap, but the fact that she thinks he'll like it is all the convincing he needs. 

He agrees immediately, and that's that. 

*

“Do I need to get dressed up?” Steve asks the next afternoon as they’re getting ready to go to the cinema.

“Not even a little,” replies Diana from the bathroom, in the process of braiding back her hair. “The cinema is dark and traditionally one eats a lot of horribly sugary food.”

This suits Steve, who likes sugar and doesn’t particularly like suits. (It also doesn't hurt that the casual button-down he'd earmarked for the evening and now gets to wear is one that always makes Diana's eyes darken a little.) 

When they arrive, Diana is the one who chooses their seats and pays for the tickets, while Steve looks around gamely at the bright posters, still a little unsure what to expect. 

Next, she steers him to the concession stand.

“We could have just brought snacks from home,” says Steve, glancing warily over the prices on the overhead menu. He's still not used to modern pricing; it makes him itchy. 

“Not for your first cinema experience,” says Diana. “That wouldn’t do.”

In front of them, a pair of bouncing children tug on their mother's sweater, pleading for the largest size possible of—

“Popcorn?” asks Steve, pleasantly surprised, and now examining the food displays with renewed interest. It’s something he remembers eating as a child, on cold autumn nights around the fireplace.

“It’s a cinema staple.”

"That, then." 

Diana orders a bucket and a selection of candy to go with it. They're left with enough time that they can duck into their seats a few minutes early. The lights are still low and the screen blank, but they dig into their treats anyways.

“It’s got no substance to it,” Steve says of the popcorn, though he promptly shoves another handful into his mouth and then sends a lopsided grin her way, cheeks bulging. “More salt and butter, though,” he adds after a moment, and Diana smiles.

“Yes, humans got rather good at that.”

“I’m certainly not complaining.”

It’s just then that the lights go dark, and the screen comes alive. 

As the opening scene plays, Diana watches Steve's eyes widen just a little, the way he jumps at the sound and leans forward, almost entranced by the screen. 

"Wow," he breathes, more to himself than to her. "Motion pictures really do have sound now." 

Diana bites back a smile, and has to force herself to look back at the screen. 

(It doesn't work: the movie is passably interesting, but it doesn't hold a candle to expressions on Steve's face, and she spends most of the film watching him fondly instead. The way his eyes go so wide that she can see the flashing reflection of the movie mirrored across them. The way his lips part slightly and he sucks in a sharp breath as the action races towards its peak. The little expressions that flick across his features, one after another as he gets lost in the story. She doubts she'll be able to give nuanced commentary on the substance of the film, but it's worth it.) 

*

“That was amazing,” Steve says breathlessly, as the credits roll. “That was amazing. I knew technology had come a long way, but it’s so lifelike and crisp. Like it was really happening in front of us."  

Diana wonders briefly if this was what it was like for Steve when she first arrived, seeing bits of the world through fresh eyes, experiencing simple pleasures as something profound, revolutionary. For her, the progress happened so steadily that she never really stopped to marvel how far it’s truly come.

"It's extraordinary," she agrees, and he wastes no time in launching into an excited analysis of the film. 

When he eventually gets to the special effects, Diana makes a mental note to show him some of the movies from the '80s to demonstrate just how quickly ‘cutting edge’ effects have changed. She also makes a mental note to invest in a television, and maybe reinstate her Netflix account, and to look up drive-in theaters. 

"So," she says, when Steve takes a breath, "same time next week?" 

His ensuing grin is all the answer she needs.

(Popcorn is nice and all, but there’s at least one other cinema tradition she’s looking forward to.)