17. | FUNERAL

NEW YORK CITY
JULY 27, 2010

The sun on that summer morning was the harshest seen in the year so far. Those who had opted to sit in the shade were easily the wisest—those who sat in the rays directly weren't so lucky—fanning themselves with the menu and wiping their brows and the backs of their necks with napkins.

Several months had passed since Steve had awoken to the year 2010, seventy years after his plane crashed into the ocean. He still found himself jolting awake screaming after nightmares, feeling the bitter cold water seep into his lungs.

But, Steve Rogers was in no mood to dwell on the past too much at the moment. Life after waking up had been fairly quiet. His days were spent learning about the modern world—which mainly consisted of watching newer films, listening to music and reading history books. His apartment was a small comfort to him, it was quiet, with no nosy or noisy neighbors to bother or overwhelm him. However, the cafe had also been extremely welcoming.

He came here very often, and sat at the same table underneath a large dark-green umbrella. Next to his cup of coffee, where a sketchpad and a pencil would also rest upon the table. But the entire sketchpad was empty—everything he had attempted to start was immediately scribbled out. He had no muse, no inspiration.

Steve glanced at the people around him. Teen boys were wearing pants that hung on their hips too low, girls were wearing skirts that were too short and very revealing shirts. Steve had seen countless of women roaming through the streets of New York, but to be honest, none of them were Peggy.

Peggy. Even the name gave him chills. He could still remember her soft eyes. Sometimes, if he really focused, he could still feel her lips on his, the warmth and the passion rolled into one. S.H.I.E.L.D. gave him updates files on all of the people he had served with, including Peggy's. She had been married, but was now widowed and didn't have any children. She's retired from her job quite some time ago, when she had reached her mid-sixties and she was now living in Britain with her family.

Steve was ready to get completely lost in his thoughts when he saw her.

She was stunning. He couldn't see her eyes, as they were obscured by stylish sunglasses. She was dressed in a simple white blouse and black leggings, which were matched with ballet flats. The woman was extremely curvy; wide hips, small waist, slim shoulders, and legs that seemed to go on forever. Her graceful features made Steve want to draw them, so that he would never be able to forget how she looked or forget that the woman was actually real and not a heat-induced mirage.

He watched as she moved through the crowd of tables and people, her bright blonde hair, long and curly, bouncing with each step. Running a hand through it wearily, she focused on finding a free table, but her shoulders slumped when she didn't.

Steve found it hard to tear his eyes off of her. There was just something about her.

"Is this seat taken?"

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin as the beautiful woman approached his table, staring down at him. She reached up and placed her sunglasses on top of her head, pushing her hair out of her face.

He was too taken aback by the request to reject and made a sign of acceptance. A sweet smile appeared on her face as adjusting the bag on her shoulder, a hand grasping her coffee and the other closed around the top of the chair. She pulled it out without causing too much noise, and plopped down into the seat.

"So, what's your name?"

Steve studied the unique shade of blue in her eyes before answering: "Steve Rogers, ma'am."

She let out a soft chuckle, causing deep dimples to appear on her cheeks. Steve took note of the way her nose crinkled when she laughed. "There's no need to call me ma'am. My name's Christina Sitma, but you can call me: Chris."

"All right, Chris." Steve replied, smiling brightly at the woman in front of him.

▲▽▲

PRESENT

Steve felt heavy and groggy and filled with pain. His eyes were closed, but he still could hear some unfamiliar bluesy music playing nearby. Where am I? Steve thought. Slowly, he forced his eyelids open, and he saw that he was in a hospital room and to his right, he saw Sam.

"On your left," Steve mumbled. Sam turned and looked at him, his lips spreading into a wide smile.

"There he is," Sam said with a soft chuckle.

Steve blinked several times as he mentally ran an assessment of himself. His memory was foggy as he tried to remember what exactly had happened. And then it hit him. It hit him the way Bucky's bullet had struck him in the stomach. "Christina. Oh, God. Where is she?" Steve asked, his chest constricting as he heart began to pound painfully. Does she know I'm alive? Steve thought. In seconds, Sam was standing next to him.

"Steve? Steve, listen to me. Calm down, she's fine." Sam said quickly, so quickly that Steve had a difficult time understanding what he had said.

"Does she—does she know I'm alive?" Steve asked quietly.

"Yeah, you should have seen her face. That girl of yours was ecstatic to see you," Sam replied with a smile. "You just missed her, she was in here about half an hour ago. I made her leave, go home and take a shower and go on a coffee run—but I basically had to drag her out of the room. She didn't want to leave your side."

"Where is she now? I have to see her," Steve stared pushing the blankets off of him when Sam grabbed his arm.

"Woah, take a load off, Captain." Sam chuckled, allowing Steve to relax back into the bed. "Let me text her and get her down here, okay?"

Steve stared at Sam for a few seconds, and hesitantly nodded. "Okay."

Sam whipped out his phone and sent off a rapid text message before shoving it back into his pocket. "She is going to be real happy to see you up and awake. There wasn't any immediate chance that you were gonna die, but you were in rough shape when Hill found you by the river."

"What happened?"

"She found you in the mud, completely shot to hell. Nobody knew how you got there or who dragged you out of the river, but you were there and breathing. Hill said that she saw another set of footprints, but didn't get the chance to examine them." Sam replied.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but before he got the chance, Christina burst into the room. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she slowly stalked over to Steve, her eyes locked on Steve. Sam grinned and backed out of the room, his absence unnoticed by Steve and Christina.

Christina's hair was half-wet and cascading down to just below her breast. She was wearing skinny jeans, white converse, and a tight white tank top. She had dark purple lightning-like burns trailing up her right arm, across her chest, up the side of her neck, and merely inching onto her face.

Christina took a moment to take in Steve's appearance. His plump bottom lip was split, and the area beside his right eye was drastically swollen. He looked groggy and worn out to Christina. A large smile spread across his face as their eyes locked.

"Oh, thank God, you're okay." Christina said with a happy sigh as she approached him, standing right next to the hospital bed. "Can I—Can I hug you?" she asked, and quickly lowered her head in embarrassment.

Steve chuckled softly, ignoring pain - he wasn't used to seeing her so vulnerable and emotional. Given her job status, she had been a little bottled up when it came to her emotions, but this side of her was like a cold breath of air—it bit at his lungs but it was refreshing. "Yeah."

Christina wasted no time; she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck as sobs raked her body. A lumped swelled up in her throat as she thought about how close she'd been to losing him, to losing this warmth that engulfed her when they would touch.

Despite himself, tears came to his eyes, and he tried to blink them away. He'd never doubted how much he loved her; he loved Christina with every ounce of his being. Steve knew that he had to keep her safe. And yet he knew that he couldn't. Christina would never really be safe because of her past, and because of him. Aside from her dangerous past, as long as they were together, she would always be in some kind of danger. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, and he tried to imagine life without her.

Steve tried to imagine what life would be like if he walked away from her right now. Could he do that? Could he give up his own happiness and sanity to keep Christina safe? He felt his eyes beginning to sting again, and he slowly steadied his breathing to keep himself under control. He knew that he would never be able to leave someone that meant everything to him behind.

Suddenly, Christina released herself from him and she sunk down into the chair that Sam was just sitting in moments ago. "I love you, too."

"What?"

"I never got the chance to reply to you earlier. So," she leaned forward and brought her face closer to Steve's. "I love you too." She repeated and gently placed her lips to his in a short, sweet and passionate kiss. Fresh tears rolled down her face as she pulled away, and she reached out, gently smoothing his blonde hair back from his face. "Steve, I was so scared. I was so fucking scared."

"You have no idea how happy I am to see that you're okay," Steve murmured quietly. Christina's grief-ridden frown melted away, and a beautiful smile took its place.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see that you're okay," Christina said. Steve leaned forward and grasped her hand in his.

"What happened to you?" Steve asked as he examined the purple burns that crawled along the inside of her right arm.

"Oh," Christina chuckled quietly to herself as she looked down at them. "I, uh, while trying to escape from Pierce; I had to use one of my Cobra's Bites to distract him long enough for Nick to shoot him. I never realized, for all the years that I've used them, how bad they hurt. I mean, they sting like a bitch - and burn, apparently." Steve ran the pads of his fingertips along the burns, she winced at the contact.

"I love you so much," Steve whispered after a long moment of silence. "I'm so sorry it took my so long tell you."

"Steve, I don't care," Christina said. "I really don't care how long it took you to tell me, you told me, and you're here with me, I love you, and that's all that matters."

Despite the grogginess Steve was feeling, he beamed brightly at her. Steve laughed, tears starting to form again, and before he knew it, he was laughing and crying at the same time because he'd never felt luckier or happier in his life.

▲▽▲

"Why haven't we yet heard from Captain Rogers?" the Senator asked Christina and Natasha, who were sitting at a table in front of the Department of Defense committee—Christina's dark purple burns had faded slightly, but still clearly visible. That damn Cobra's Bite, leaving these permanent scars, Christina thought.

Christina crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know what there is left for him to say. I think the wreck in the middle of the Potomac made his point fairly eloquently." Natasha deadpanned.

"Well, he could explain how this country is expected to maintain its national security now that he and you have laid waste to our intelligence apparatus." A man in a military uniform said sternly to the female spy.

"Hydra was selling you lies, not intelligence," Christina corrected flippantly.

"Many of which you two seemed to have had a personal hand in telling," the man replied. Christina and Natasha kept staring steadily at the man without changing her expression.

"Agent, you should know there are some on this committee who feel, given your service record, both for this country and against it, that you belong in a penitentiary." Another Senator said. "Not mouthing off on Capitol Hill."

Natasha smirked slightly and tilted her head to the side in a mocking manner. "You're not going to put me in a prison," she said confidently. "You're not going to put any of us in a prison." She cocked up a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You know why?"

"Do enlighten us."

"Because you need us," Christina continued seriously. "Yes, the world is a vulnerable place, and yes, we help make it that way. But we're also the ones best qualified to defend it. So, if you want to arrest me, arrest me. You'll know where to find me."

With one last fiery glance around the room, the two women got to their feet and walked out of the room, as cameras flashed frantically around them.

▲▽▲

"So, you've experienced this sort of thing before." Nick Fury slowed in front of the grave, and he looked down at it, reading his own headstone.

"You get used to it," Steve answered with an amused smile.

"We've been data mining Hydra's files," Fury said. "Looks like a lot of rats didn't go down with the ship. I'm headed to Europe tonight. Wanted to ask if you'd come."

Steve paused, and he looked up from the ground at Fury. "There's something I got to do first."

"How about you, Wilson?" Fury asked as he turned toward Sam, surveying him from behind his sunglasses. "Could use a man with your abilities."

"I'm more of a soldier than a spy," Sam answered.

"All right, then," Fury said with a sigh. He stuck his hand out, and Sam accepted the handshake before Fury turned to shake Steve's hand. "Anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me..." he gestured to the grave with his head. "...right here."

"You should be honored. That's about as close as he gets to saying thank you." Christina's angelic voice rang out behind Steve. He turned around to see Christina crossing the cemetery, Steve walked forward to meet her halfway.

"Not going with him?" Steve asked.

"No," Christina said with a soft laugh and shook her head.

"Not staying here," Steve said, sadness lacing his words.

"Nah. I blew all my covers. I got to go figure out a new one." Christina said with a sad and regretful smile.

"That might take a while."

"I'm counting on it," Christina coquettishly replied, but smirked softly before she continued: "But I can be convinced to stay."

Steve cocked up a brow, "Oh, yeah? What does it cost?"

"That date, you know, the one that you promised me."

"That's it?" Steve asked, unable to help his smile. "I think I can I handle that."

"That thing you asked for," Christina said, suddenly becoming serious as she lifted up a file that was in her hands. "I had Natasha call in a few favors from Kiev." Christina held out the file to Steve and he gingerly took it from her. "Will you do me a favor?" Steve looked up at her. "Call in reservations for the two of us at six o'clock, at that Italian restaurant by our apartment?"

"Yeah, I definitely will." Steve replied.

Soon, it was quiet between the two of them as they both lovingly looked at each other, thinking about the time they'd spent with each other and the things they'd risked for each other.

Christina made her move to leave first. Leaning forward, she gently kissed Steve full on the lips for a passionate and meaningful kiss. "I love you." she whispered against his lips before turning and walking away. Suddenly, she turned back over her shoulder and looked at him seriously. "Be careful, Steve." She nodded toward the file in his hand. "You might not want to pull on that thread."

"I love you too, see you tonight." Steve called out to her as she made her way back over to her car.

Steve watched her walk off and played her words through his head. He knew she was right - she wouldn't have given him the warning if she hadn't meant it, and Christina didn't give warnings unless they were for a good reason. Steve looked back down at the file, and he opened it. Inside, front and center, was a picture of Bucky in cryosleep.

"You're going after him," Sam stated.

"You don't have to come with me, neither does Christina." Steve replied.

"I know, so does Christina." Sam said. He paused, and then he looked at the Super-Soldier. "When do we start?"

"Right now," Steve answered, closing the file.

"What about your date with Christina?" Sam asked with a smirk.

Steve's cheeks and the back to his neck burned with embarrassment. "Well, we'll start tomorrow." Steve replied, and Sam let out a soft chuckle in response.

Steve knew that Christina wouldn't even think twice about joining the cause, but Steve didn't want to ruin their date by dropping this bomb on her, so he would wait until tomorrow. That would give him one night to enjoy Christina's company for the first time in a long time. It's been long overdue, Steve thought.

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