Stalking Steve
“I can’t believe that you just let him get away,” Tony complains from his spot as look out. The three of them have gathered down an alleyway. Clint has returned bloody yet empty handed. He glares at Tony as Natasha dresses his wound with bandages she stole from a local shop on the way.
“Doesn’t matter, he’s going to try again. We’ll be ready this time.” Natasha says firmly. When Tony opens his mouth to make a sarcastic comment she shoots him a deadly glare and he hastily shuts it.
“Alright, who has first dibs on Cap babysitting duty?” Clint asks.
“I’ll do it,” Natasha volunteers, “Tony you can relieve me at sun up, just in time for his shift at the grocery store, and Clint you can take the evening shift.”
Wound bandaged to her liking, Natasha brushes her hair back into place. The curls have fallen out and she hasn’t bothered to replace them.
“You two find a place for us to camp out and something for us to eat.” She commands before disappearing around the corner. Nighttime stake outs are rarely interesting, she doubts nighttime stakeouts in the 30’s will be any better.
Steve lives in what will be a very nice neighborhood by the 21st century. Gentrification and a reputation as being “cool” will easily make this area one of the most expensive places in the city. For now though, it is obvious that the neighborhood has been hit hard by the depression. More buildings are dark and empty, despite the number of homeless she passed on the street. She’s glad, and perhaps a bit proud in a sisterly way, to see that Steve has managed to find himself a nice little apartment on the second floor of a big brick building.
Across the street another building, that looks like it was also once an apartment building is empty. She makes herself comfortable in the apartment directly across from his, where she gets a good view of him from the two windows his apartment has.
She watches him in the kitchen adding vegetables to a pot and occasionally stirring it. She wonders if Cap still cooks. If he still makes everything the old fashioned way occasionally, forgoing the convenience of microwaves and canned soup that she knows he has grown to love. Natasha makes a note to ask him later.
Natasha tenses as another person enters her view from the window. The dark haired man looks exhausted and dirty, like he’s been working at the docks all day. Natasha prepares her gun, just in case, but relaxes when the most threatening thing the man does to Steve is steal his bowl and then ladle himself some soup. Steve, for his part, only smiles at the man. Then it clicks, this must be Bucky Barnes. Cap had mentioned rooming with him before the war. Putting down her gun and resettling herself Natasha watches the domestic scene of two boys out on their own for the first time, oblivious to the war that looms in their future.
Meanwhile Tony and Clint are wandering up and down the streets, mutual looks of frustration on their faces.
“I’ve never been homeless or without money, how the hell should I know where to look?” Tony says. When Natasha had first assigned them their mission neither had been too concerned. Clint had spent time in his youth on the streets and more than one mission had gone south in a way that left him basically homeless. However he had never experienced homelessness quite like New York City in 30s homelessness. Every shelter they had gone to had turned them away, overflowing with regulars. Other places, which Clint knew from experience, made good places to hide out were also overrun by homeless, who didn’t take kindly to strangers in their territory.
As they debate where to look next, and possibly who is going to tell Natasha that they failed their task they hear Natasha over the comms.
“I’m in the apartment across from Cap. This will make a good place to set up camp.”
“Thank God,” Tony mutters as Clint responds that they are on their way. Clint steals a few apples from a cart and Tony manages scam a loaf of bread from the bakery using the name “Stark” as they make their way to Natasha.
Clint throws Natasha an apple as they enter the little apartment.
“This will do. It’s not as nice as the accommodations we found, but it’s not bad.” Tony says. Natasha raises an eyebrow at him before turning back to the windows. Steve has moved from the kitchen window to the living room window. He sits on a threadbare couch sketching, a familiar look of concentration etched on his face. Next to him Bucky is fiddling with an old fashioned radio. From their look out place they can’t hear the song, but from the way Bucky bobs his head they can guess it’s a jaunty big band song.
“He looks happy,” Clint observes.
“He always does when he’s drawing.” Tony says.
“No this is different. He looks peaceful. He did when he was walking home too,” Clint says.
“You mean right before he got stabbed. He didn’t look very peaceful then. Didn’t look very peaceful when he was getting his assed kicked either,” Tony says shortly.
“Don’t be such a grump Stark,” Clint frowns.
“I’m not being a grump. It’s just that…we can travel through time now. If Steve does really like it better here, we can send him home,” Tony says.
“No. It’s too risky, what if he meets himself and blows up time or something,” Clint scoffs.
“Not if he returns after he goes into the ice. He could have that life with Peggy that he always wanted,” Tony says quietly.
“He would never do it. It’s still too risky, who knows how his presence would change history. Besides he wouldn’t abandon the avengers” Natasha says.
“Good point. He is way too noble to just abandon his teammates so he can have a nice peaceful life,” Clint says.
“Does that really make it better? The knowledge that Steve would probably rather be here, but he’s giving it up because we need him?” Tony says. The other two don’t have a good answer for that. They all go back to watching Steve through the window. He has finished whatever masterpiece he had been working on and is proudly showing it off to Bucky.
~*~*~*~
The next morning Tony is rudely awakened by repeated pokes in his side.
“Go aw’y” he mumbles.
“Get up. Cap is almost done with his breakfast. He’s going to leave soon.”
Tony looks up at Natasha’s tired face. He sits up. From the window he can see Steve enjoying a light breakfast, looking annoyingly awake and cheerful. Apparently it wasn’t the serum that made him such an obnoxious morning person.
“How’d the stakeout go?” Tony asks quietly. Clint is still asleep, curled up on a left behind rug.
“Quiet. No attempts,” Natasha reports.
Steve leaves his apartment building. Moments later, so does Tony. He follows at a safe distance. He’s not quite sure what Steve would do if he caught sight of him for a third time. Probably try to fight him. That might be interesting, Tony thinks with a small smile, a fight against Cap where he could win without using the suit.
Steve makes it to work on time, like the good boy he is, Tony thinks with a smirk. Tony pretends to shop, discretely watching as Steve sweeps the floor and restocks the shelves. He finds himself enjoying his mission, despite the fact that it isn’t even 10 AM yet. He’s never seen Steve so unguarded before. Things are going so well that he doesn’t notice the new arrivals at first.
It’s a group of three guys. From the looks of them they just got off a night shift down by the docks. They’re young, and probably not bad fellows, but it’s been a long night for them and they’re feeling a bit rowdy.
It starts off harmlessly enough. A playful shove sends one guy stumbling into a shelf knocking off a box of cereal, that they don’t bother to pick up. The retaliating shove, which is much harder, claims a glass jug of milk which shatters to the floor. They don’t care. At first Steve is patient as he follows them around cleaning up after them as their game continues. But it is the 30’s and with so many people hungry it irks Steve to see food go to waste.
Technically he doesn’t have the authority to kick anyone out, but Mr. Dilworth is a sweet older man who trusts Steve’s judgement with these types of things.
“Hey fellas. I think it’s time for you to leave,” Steve says firmly but politely.
“You can’t kick us out, we’re paying customers,” one complains. Tony notices that he was the one who instigated the shoving match in the first place.
“Are you going to pay for the milk, or the other food ruined?” Steve asks.
“Those were accidents.” It’s not a real answer. Steve frowns.
“Like I said. I think you should be going now.”
For a tense moment Tony thinks there is going to be a fight, and three against one aren’t fair odds, especially when Steve doesn’t even way half as much as the smallest guy there. Then the biggest guy, clearly the leader, smiles, “sure pal. We’ll be on our way.”
Steve watches them leave, his shoulders tense. When they disappear through the door he relaxes, believing the situation done. Tony has his doubts. Tony has been called paranoid before, by many people actually, including Steve. However, Tony hardly counts it as being paranoid if he’s right. So after doing a quick scan around the store to make sure the assassin isn’t going to pop out from behind a shelf of bread Tony follows them outside.
He doesn’t have to go far. He finds them smoking right around the corner, eyes trained on the door, obviously waiting for someone to come out. Tony can imagine Steve obliviously walking out the doors, tired after a long day of work, being caught off guard by a three to one assault. It makes Tony’s blood unexpectedly boil. He’s surprised with himself. This would hardly be the worst fight Cap has gotten himself into, and the fact that there is a Cap hanging around the 21st century proves that this fight wouldn’t have any lasting damage on him. But for some reason this bothers him. Maybe it’s the fact that Tony is only used to seeing Steve actually win the fights he gets into, or maybe it’s the fact that Tony knows the war will be starting in a few short years and this is the most peaceful Steve’s life is ever going to get, but something about this fight bothers him more than it should.
“Hey, get out of here!” Tony says authoritatively, “go on scram.”
Surprise flashes across three faces as they realize Tony is talking to them.
The leader recovers first, “make us.”
The men are half his age and in good shape. Loading cargo ships, have done wonders for their biceps. Tony doesn’t even have his suit. But these men had never gotten into a fight more serious than a bar brawl and Tony has been sparring with none other than Captain America for months.
Tony can’t help the pleased smirk on his face when he tosses the last one standing over his shoulder in a move Steve had taught him last month. The man hits the ground with a very satisfying crunch. Leaving them to lick their wounds, Tony returns to the store to continue his original mission of watching Steve.