Steve's finger hovered over the call button, he had been trying to work up the nerve to call Sharon for weeks now, but was still too chicken to do it. Just as he was about to press call, his phone rang, and Sharon's caller ID popped up. Before he had a chance to realize what he was doing he picked up.
"Hello, this is St-" he was cut off by a stuffy-sounding Sharon,
"Hi Steve, it-it's" she erupted into a coughing fit, and he was sure he could hear her blowing her nose in the background, "It's Sharon. I hear you make the best chicken soup in the world. Could you please bring me some?"
Steve stood up quickly, still on-call with Sharon, "Sure." He walked quickly through the lounge to make his way to the kitchen, "I'll be there s-ouch!" he tripped over his shield in his haste to get to the kitchen.
"Careful now soldier," he heard her say, "I need you in one piece if you're going to bring me my soup," she croaked, letting out a laugh that turned into a coughing fit. When she had recovered, she continued, "Don't get lost on your way here."
He chuckled, "I'll try not too. See you soon!" and with that, he put down the phone.
Steve put some soup he had already made on the stove to heat up. By the sounds of it, Sharon needed it as soon as possible. He thought to himself how lucky he was that she called. He had been too shy to call her for all this time, and the chances of him actually working up the courage to press one little button were very slim. He would have been so nervous, worried about what he should say, but now that she called him first, he didn't need to worry. Even if the circumstances weren't all that pleasant, he supposed it could be a good ice-breaker.
The soldier was pulled from his thoughts when he realized the soup was boiling already,
"Shoot!" he used his alternative curse-word as he pulled the pot off the stove.
Much to his delight, it hadn't burned. He chuckled to himself, despite being a supesoldier, he was such an airhead sometimes. Steve carefully poured the hot liquid into a flask suitable for transporting to Sharon.
He walked out into the streets of New York, he looked around, everything had changed so much. Not just the scenery, but the people too. The blonde was pulled from his thoughts when he felt something tugging at his jacket. He looked down to see a little boy looking up at him with wide eyes.
"Hey Kiddo. What can I help you with?" he knelt down to the boy's level.
"Y-you're Captain America?" he asked, awestruck,
"Steve Rogers at your service!" he saluted the child,
"Please can you sign my t-shirt?" he jumped up and down.
Steve looked up to the boy's mother, asking for permission,
"Yes, of course go ahead. You're basically all he talks about. You're his hero," she smiled at the soldier.
He nodded his thanks as he blushed slightly, "What's your name son?" he asked the boy,
"My name is James, Sir," he told him proudly,
"Oh really? My best friend's name is James!"
The boy squealed excitedly, "That is so cool! Mom, I have the same name as his best friend!!!"
"That's great Honey!" she laughed at her son's antics.
Steve scribbled his signature, and a short message on the boy's shirt.
"Thank you!" the boy grinned at the supersoldier,
"Anytime pal. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go," he politely excused himself as he hailed a cab.
After a while, he arrived at Sharon's apartment, and prayed she wouldn't be mad at him for taking so long. He would hate to have her think that he wasn't punctual, he wanted to make a good second-impression.
He rang the doorbell, and stepped back, waiting for the door to open, instead he heard someone call from inside,
"It's open!"
He would have to remember to tale to her about safety when she was better. Steve locked the door behind him to make sure no unwanted guests came in. He found Sharon sitting on the couch wrapped in a fuzzy blanket with a dustbin full of tissues next to her. Even he had to admit, she was a sorry sight.
"Hey," she sat up slowly, nursing a cup of tea.
"Hey there. You look well," he joked,
"Absolutely fantastic!" she shot back.
"I bought you soup!" he lifted up the flask, "Where can I get a bowl from?"
"Yay! And cupboard on the left, above the counter, spoons are in the third drawer," she told him.
He disappeared, but returned moments later with a bowl full of steamy goodness.
"Mmmmm, it looks delicious!" she paused, "I would say it smells delicious, but to be honest I can't smell a thing," she smiled at him.
"At least you're honest," he chuckled and passed her the bowl, "Here you go."
She put a spoon of it in her mouth, "I feel better already!"