cap drabble: Civil War
18 Jun 2015 10:35![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
domarzioneSpeculative, at the very best.
Civil War [ ao3 | tumblr ]
1200 words | PG | Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanova, Wanda Maximoff
She caught up to him at Coney Island, sitting on a bench on the boardwalk.
“Took you long enough,” Steve said as Natasha sat down on the other side of the bench. They were both wearing sunglasses and appropriate clothing, unremarkable in the sea of people. “Want a slice? Best pizza in New York and it hasn’t changed a whit since I was a kid.”
He gestured to the box from Totonno’s on the bench between them. Natasha looked down and then opened the box. He’d eaten a couple of slices already, but he took another after her because they were small and thin and perfect and Natasha made a noise of agreement with her first bite.
They finished the pie between them – it wasn’t such a secret that Natasha ate like a soldier, not like a lady worried about her catsuit – in companionable silence. It was September, after the official close of the beach but before New Yorkers were forced to quit summer for good and so it was busy, but not the kind of crowded it would have been a month ago. There were still sunbathers out on the beach and a few heading into the water and the traffic to the amusement park and the aquarium was still high.
“You’re sure about this?” Natasha finally asked after they’d finished and he’d crumpled up the box and tossed it in the trash along with their supply of greasy napkins.
“Yep.”
It hadn’t required much thought, at least not his own decision. Asking others to join him, however, using whatever powers of suasion he had on the people he considered friends and allies… this was going to be an ugly fight and one not without cost. It was not a favor that could be asked of anyone. Not when it wasn’t either/or – there was a third option, to withdraw, and it was an honorable one and, to be truthful, the safest and wisest option for many. He’d begrudged nobody for choosing it.
Natasha hadn’t.
“You know they’re going to come after you,” she said, eyes on the waves in the distance.
“They’re going to try,” he agreed. If she wasn’t going to use ‘we’ when they both knew she meant 'we,’ then he would go along with it. He hadn’t understood Natasha’s decision to side with Tony on the Registration Act, although she’d given him an explanation. Something to do with sunlight being the best disinfectant and not wanting to go back to the shadows. He wasn’t sure she believed it, he wasn’t sure he believed it, but that’s what she’d given him and so that’s what he’d go by.
“It won’t be a fistfight,” she warned. “It’ll be media manipulation and lawfare and–”
“And you’re worried I’ll get flattened?” he asked, a little bemused. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll do fine. I was a showgirl before I was a soldier; I know how to sell the American people on an idea. Tony can spin things however he wants and dig up whatever dirt he can muster. End of the day, he’s still selling the the curtailing of personal freedoms.”
“It worked for the Patriot Act.”
“And this’ll fail because of it,” he replied, acknowledging her truth with a nod. “Fifteen years of taking off your shoes at the airport, of the government reading your emails and listening to your phone calls, of barricades in front of monuments and full-body scans at baseball stadiums, and nobody’s even sure it does anything. And here comes Tony Stark to tell everyone that they need to start spying on their neighbors in case one of them’s got powers so that they can be registered with the government like sex offenders.”
The Act didn’t say anything of the sort, not really, but this was going to be the unintended consequences of what it did say. It was an abhorrent idea as a concept, but the Act itself had been sloppily written, done in haste to capitalize on a terrible tragedy. It was going to do what its proponents wanted and get their lists of enhanced people. But it would also turn America into something dark, everyone spying on each other, informing on their enemies just because they could.
“He’s going to go after you,” Natasha said instead of slipping in to the old argument. It was old by now, gone over and over until they knew each other’s parts by heart.
“More dangerous men than him have tried,” he assured her because he could hear the concern in her voice. They were not on the same side, but they were still friends. “My reputation isn’t nearly as dear to me as everyone seems to think.”
His legacy was important to him, very much so, but he had to live in the present. And his present faced a threat of greater concern to him than his good name, a prioritizing that had so far flummoxed everyone in DC who’d expected Captain America to come to heel and sit quietly because the President had asked him to.
“I know that,” Natasha agreed, standing up to go, holding up her hand to shield her eyes from the sun even with her glasses on so that she could see him. “But what happens when Tony realizes it?”
“We’ll just have to hope it doesn’t come to that point,” he said with a shrug. Because if it ever got to that point, that’s when it would get ugly and violent because then it would become a war. “It’s good to see you again, Natasha.”
She froze for a second, like she was surprised, but then she leaned down to kiss his cheek. “It was good to see you, too.”
He watched her go, heading east on the boardwalk toward Brighton Beach. He waited for her red head to disappear from sight before he took off his shirt to see if he could find the tracker he was sure she’d placed on it. He could, but he couldn’t get it off, so he kept the shirt off and carried it bunched up in his hand until he was on one of the ramps down to the street and tossed it on to a bench, sure that one of the homeless would pick it up. Let Tony and the others chase that for a while.
He found Wanda waiting at Williams Candy.
“How did it go?” she asked, not taking her eyes away from the cases full of sweets. She looked delighted by it all and, for a moment, he could see the ghost of the young girl she’d once been before tragedy had struck, over and over. This was another place that had stood since his own childhood and it had a magic to it, an innocence, that soothed.
“Much as expected,” he replied. “I need to go buy a shirt.”
She looked up, saw him naked from the waist up, and cocked an eyebrow to express her amusement.
“You go do that,” she agreed, returning her attention to the display in front of her and waving down the clerk. “I’ll wait here.”
Civil War [ ao3 | tumblr ]
1200 words | PG | Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanova, Wanda Maximoff
She caught up to him at Coney Island, sitting on a bench on the boardwalk.
“Took you long enough,” Steve said as Natasha sat down on the other side of the bench. They were both wearing sunglasses and appropriate clothing, unremarkable in the sea of people. “Want a slice? Best pizza in New York and it hasn’t changed a whit since I was a kid.”
He gestured to the box from Totonno’s on the bench between them. Natasha looked down and then opened the box. He’d eaten a couple of slices already, but he took another after her because they were small and thin and perfect and Natasha made a noise of agreement with her first bite.
They finished the pie between them – it wasn’t such a secret that Natasha ate like a soldier, not like a lady worried about her catsuit – in companionable silence. It was September, after the official close of the beach but before New Yorkers were forced to quit summer for good and so it was busy, but not the kind of crowded it would have been a month ago. There were still sunbathers out on the beach and a few heading into the water and the traffic to the amusement park and the aquarium was still high.
“You’re sure about this?” Natasha finally asked after they’d finished and he’d crumpled up the box and tossed it in the trash along with their supply of greasy napkins.
“Yep.”
It hadn’t required much thought, at least not his own decision. Asking others to join him, however, using whatever powers of suasion he had on the people he considered friends and allies… this was going to be an ugly fight and one not without cost. It was not a favor that could be asked of anyone. Not when it wasn’t either/or – there was a third option, to withdraw, and it was an honorable one and, to be truthful, the safest and wisest option for many. He’d begrudged nobody for choosing it.
Natasha hadn’t.
“You know they’re going to come after you,” she said, eyes on the waves in the distance.
“They’re going to try,” he agreed. If she wasn’t going to use ‘we’ when they both knew she meant 'we,’ then he would go along with it. He hadn’t understood Natasha’s decision to side with Tony on the Registration Act, although she’d given him an explanation. Something to do with sunlight being the best disinfectant and not wanting to go back to the shadows. He wasn’t sure she believed it, he wasn’t sure he believed it, but that’s what she’d given him and so that’s what he’d go by.
“It won’t be a fistfight,” she warned. “It’ll be media manipulation and lawfare and–”
“And you’re worried I’ll get flattened?” he asked, a little bemused. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll do fine. I was a showgirl before I was a soldier; I know how to sell the American people on an idea. Tony can spin things however he wants and dig up whatever dirt he can muster. End of the day, he’s still selling the the curtailing of personal freedoms.”
“It worked for the Patriot Act.”
“And this’ll fail because of it,” he replied, acknowledging her truth with a nod. “Fifteen years of taking off your shoes at the airport, of the government reading your emails and listening to your phone calls, of barricades in front of monuments and full-body scans at baseball stadiums, and nobody’s even sure it does anything. And here comes Tony Stark to tell everyone that they need to start spying on their neighbors in case one of them’s got powers so that they can be registered with the government like sex offenders.”
The Act didn’t say anything of the sort, not really, but this was going to be the unintended consequences of what it did say. It was an abhorrent idea as a concept, but the Act itself had been sloppily written, done in haste to capitalize on a terrible tragedy. It was going to do what its proponents wanted and get their lists of enhanced people. But it would also turn America into something dark, everyone spying on each other, informing on their enemies just because they could.
“He’s going to go after you,” Natasha said instead of slipping in to the old argument. It was old by now, gone over and over until they knew each other’s parts by heart.
“More dangerous men than him have tried,” he assured her because he could hear the concern in her voice. They were not on the same side, but they were still friends. “My reputation isn’t nearly as dear to me as everyone seems to think.”
His legacy was important to him, very much so, but he had to live in the present. And his present faced a threat of greater concern to him than his good name, a prioritizing that had so far flummoxed everyone in DC who’d expected Captain America to come to heel and sit quietly because the President had asked him to.
“I know that,” Natasha agreed, standing up to go, holding up her hand to shield her eyes from the sun even with her glasses on so that she could see him. “But what happens when Tony realizes it?”
“We’ll just have to hope it doesn’t come to that point,” he said with a shrug. Because if it ever got to that point, that’s when it would get ugly and violent because then it would become a war. “It’s good to see you again, Natasha.”
She froze for a second, like she was surprised, but then she leaned down to kiss his cheek. “It was good to see you, too.”
He watched her go, heading east on the boardwalk toward Brighton Beach. He waited for her red head to disappear from sight before he took off his shirt to see if he could find the tracker he was sure she’d placed on it. He could, but he couldn’t get it off, so he kept the shirt off and carried it bunched up in his hand until he was on one of the ramps down to the street and tossed it on to a bench, sure that one of the homeless would pick it up. Let Tony and the others chase that for a while.
He found Wanda waiting at Williams Candy.
“How did it go?” she asked, not taking her eyes away from the cases full of sweets. She looked delighted by it all and, for a moment, he could see the ghost of the young girl she’d once been before tragedy had struck, over and over. This was another place that had stood since his own childhood and it had a magic to it, an innocence, that soothed.
“Much as expected,” he replied. “I need to go buy a shirt.”
She looked up, saw him naked from the waist up, and cocked an eyebrow to express her amusement.
“You go do that,” she agreed, returning her attention to the display in front of her and waving down the clerk. “I’ll wait here.”
