Crust (Avengers - Captain America)
It seemed a fair assessment that if she wanted to write an accurate report on middle-to-lower class America during World War II, Cordi should ask the Star-Spangled Man himself, Captain America. Who else would have such a good reference to work from?
(Not to mention, her classmates would be green with envy when she listed said reference during her oral report on the subject, and though it might be a petty joy, it was one she relished the thought of.)
In this assessment, however, Cordi had neglected to account for two teensy-weensy, but ever-so-crucial little, tiny details: the first being that for most of the States' participation in the War, Steve Rogers had actually been overseas fighting, and actually being Captain America.
And the second?
At this particular juncture in time, the good Captain was trying very hard to ignore her very existence.
There was a small (albeit loud) part of Cordi that wanted to be mad at Queen Frigga. Though, even at ten, she could see that she didn’t need to be a goddess to have anyone worship at her feet, she wondered that the woman –entity?— had lived so many years, and yet not learned any tact. She had managed to keep everything under wraps just fine, thank you very much.
Between hangouts in the communal kitchen and hanging out to walk Gylfi around Central Park, she’d thought they were growing close, becoming friends, even.
And then Frigga visited and the jig was up.
Cordi took in a breath and knocked on the door to Steve’s apartment, hoping he’d accept the school assignment excuse that she honestly had, she reminded herself, and waited.
And waited.
Cordi looked up and down the empty hallway and then sighed.
“Jarvis? Any chance you can give me a twenty on the Captain?”
“As we’ve discussed previously, Miss Cordelia, Captain Rogers has requested that his whereabouts be made unavailable to you at this time. I’m afraid I cannot go against his wishes in this.”
“You could if you weren’t some freaky AI with an old-fashioned moral code,” she muttered and there was a short silence before Jarvis’s voice returned, albeit sounding more hurt than an AI had any right to sound.
“I apologize for not being able to meet your expectations, Miss Cordelia. If you like, I can leave a message for Captain Rogers?”
Cordi sighed again and winced.
“No…I’m sorry, Jarvis. I’m sure the Cap gave you a really solid reason he doesn’t want to be around me. I just…I just wanted to ask for some help on this social studies assignment. I thought he’d be a good resource.”
She pushed a hand through her hair and turned away from the unopening door to walk down to the elevators.
“Perhaps I may be of some assistance, Miss Cordelia. I have studied much of the United States’ social history in an effort to develop a reasonable moral code.”
She winced again, and then laughed.
That was a direct jab if ever she’d heard one, and she knew she better take this olive branch while it was offered if she didn’t want to completely lose her in with the AI.
“And you’re sure you can’t tell me where the Captain is?”
“No, Miss Cordelia.” Another long pause, and then, “Though I can tell you that he isn’t in residence at this time.”
Cordi blinked, and then frowned thoughtfully.
“So he’s probably on a mission. Well, let’s go, then. How’s your knowledge of middle and lower class America during World War II?”
“That time was in fact of particular interest to Mr Stark when he was younger, so I think you’ll find my knowledge more than adequate.”
The frown changed to a grin as she ran her hand along the walls of the corridor.
“Jarvis, I’d kiss you if you weren’t just some voice in my head.”
“…Miss Cordelia, I believe I understand why Captain Rogers requested to be relieved of your presence at this time.”
She flushed then and glared up at the ceiling.
“That’s not fair. That’s just a figure of speech, and I bet you know it.”
“I am aware of such phrases, however—”
“And I’m not a dummy. I wouldn’t try to kiss him at this stage. I’m not a perv. I’m only ten.”
“Indeed, Miss Cordelia. I apologize if I offended you.”
She’d ask how he figured that, but thought he could probably read her tone, as well as what was probably a sudden spike in her blood pressure at his words, and simply continued to the elevators.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
After a few hours of listening to and watching archive footage of Howard Stark and Peggy Carter talk about the war, Cordi had to admit her paper was definitely going in a new direction. She wondered briefly if her social studies teacher would mind her focusing more on the war effort than the effect of the war on the home front as she debated with Jarvis over whether it had been more effective to use the Howling Commandos as the small strike force they were than to engage in larger scale warfare.
"I mean, look at D-Day, Jarvis. That was a grand scale invasion, and that was considered the big turning point for the war, wasn't it?"
"There were many other invasions and operations designated D-Day before and after June 6th of '44, Miss Cordelia."
"But you knew what day I meant when I said it," she returned smugly. "That proves its significance."
"Yet without the work of Captain Rogers and his men, and other small groups like them, such a grand initiative would not have been possible."
"Now you're just arguing semantics," she replied, rolling her eyes, and struggled not to laugh as the AI conceded, "Perhaps you are right, Miss Cordelia."
"Of course, I'm right," she said haughtily, and then winced as her stomach clenched. "I'm also hungry."
"Then it is most fortunate we are doing our studies in the refectory."
"Uh, yeah," she smiled, wondering just how particular was the programming that went into him so he used more Anglian terms like 'refectory' when he was obviously American-made. She stood from the dining table they'd stationed themselves at…or rather, she had stationed herself at and he had deemed sufficient to project to. The refrigerator was more stocked than usual, since she often studied here rather than her own bedroom or apartment, and other members of the Avengers and SHIELD agents often found themselves gravitating toward her.
She wondered that she was still an oddity in the tower after so many months, but conceded that she hadn't seen any other kids in the Tower, so maybe that was to be expected.
"How do you feel about a pb&j sandwich, Jarvis?"
"As you know, I have no oral receptors nor do I have a stomach and intestines to process such a thing, Miss Cordelia."
"Okay, but I'm really asking myself."
"Of course, Miss Cordelia."
Was he trying not to roll his eyes? Though if she asked, he would probably remind her he didn't actually have eyes to roll. She opened the cupboard to pull out some bread, and then frowned at the loaf before her.
"Does it make me a baby that I don't want to eat the crusts?"
"You should never take a piece of bread for granted."
She stilled at the new voice behind her and turned to see Steve standing in the doorway, frowning, though not necessarily censuring, in her direction.
"I-I don't mean to be waste…wasteful," she said abashedly, and he sighed and walked in, dumping a large duffel bag on the floor as he walked toward her. He seemed bigger than usual, and she wasn't sure if it was because they hadn't really seen each other the last couple weeks, or because of the weird change in their relationship, as it were.
He also looked tired, and dirty, and, if she were to judge by his presence in this room, a little hungry, too.
He grabbed the loaf from her, as well as a jar of peanut butter and some raspberry jam from the shelves, and starting putting a couple of sandwiches together.
"When I was 11, the Stock Market crashed, triggering several events that became part of what you probably know as the Great Depression. Things were tight. You took work where you found it, and you ate what you had…or you didn't eat at all."
"I'm sorry, I—"
She paused mid-apology as he cut the crusts off of one sandwich and placed the plate in front of her. His eyes didn't meet hers until after he'd put the cut crusts on his own plate and sat down across from her, gesturing for her to take her seat again. She hadn't looked in those eyes in what felt like ages, and they were a brighter cerulean than ever.
"I hated the crusts, too. And we're fortunate enough to have all the food we could want, so…it's okay to be a little picky about it. As long as you're grateful for it," he added, and she nodded in a daze.
Cordi felt a little shaky as she sat back down, but then smiled as she took a bite of her sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly –or jam, she supposed— really was the best.
"Jarvis."
"Yes, Captain Rogers."
"Rescind that order about concealing my whereabouts from Cordelia Lewis."
She gulped in surprise as the AI answered, "Affirmative, Captain Rogers. I shall be sure to answer any requests she might have of you."
"Sure," Steve shrugged, and took a big bite of his own sandwich only to choke when Cordi said, "Jarvis, I could kiss you."
"Though I assume you mean this figuratively, Miss Cordelia, I must ask you to refrain from making comments that would further confuse the issue."
"You got it, Jarvis," she grinned, though she was watching Steve as he tried to catch his breath, and wondered, glancing at the crusts on the side of his plate, if she might rethink the focus of her paper once more.