Reina McClaine-Hawthorne Tonight was a tough night, it had been the kind of night that usually would wipe out a woman like Reina, or what Reina seemed to be like, but she had way more up her sleeves than just the ordinary. It was a hectic shift in the ER, but after a hot shower and a change of clothes, she was out into the night again. She loved the night time, she loved every time, unlike most who would be cursed with a life that is too long, she wasn't shutting herself away anymore. The years passed horribly slow, tutors taught her things she needed to know about the modern world, but she wanted to go out and live it. But she probably lived it too well. The lifestyle she had might run her ragged, if she were anyone else. The night took her across a path she hadn't taken in a while, the shift in the ER made her think about things she hadn't in a while, think about people she hadn't in a while. One of those people was a certain young soldier that had called her an Angel once. Steve Rogers. She was, unknowingly, wandering closer to the place he called home, finding her strides taking her down the very street he called his own. Wouldn't it be nice to see an old familiar face again. Might make her think she's younger than she really is.

Steve Rogers™ The apartment of course was rented out under the alias John F. Walker, which had been an identity personally crafted for him by none other than Nick Fury the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., the old secret identity didn't work so well anymore. After he had been declared dead, some of his history had become a matter of public knowledge. After the war, sometimes it's more important for living champions to become martyred symbols after all, and in truth some had the opinion that the Captain's America had died with him sometime soon after. War is funny, though, especially that war it brings everybody together, white or black, Communist or Capitalist, the Nazi's had been a symbol of what was really worth fighting, but after...everyone turned on each other again. Fighting over some pretty petty stuff, like religion, socio-political theory, skin color. Genetics. Not really the wars that the Captain was used to - no, not exactly the wars he was built for fighting. Sometimes he has trouble finding himself in all of it as well, but the thing is...Captain America isn't dead, in a corporeal or an ideal sense. He's just hard to find sometimes. Especially when he goes by the name John F. Walker. So he walks along the sidewalk in the late night, feeling very much like a nomad in a strange but familiar land, on the search for a late night slice of pizza. Why not? If you can't sleep.

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne Having been walking the opposite way, with her face up-turned to the sky. Why bother? You couldn't see the stars anyway. She squinted hard to try, which made her stop-still, trying to see what was impossible to see due to the light pollution. Light pollution, what an absurd idea. In days long past the idea would be laughed at, yet now, standing here, she was unable to see the stars. It was late at night, so there weren't many out right now. The sound of footsteps made her lower her gaze down, and the face she saw, well it made her break out into a rather wide smile. "Well oi there." When she wasn't thinking her accent presented itself fully, even after all this time. She didn't want to give that part of herself up, she always wanted to remember where it was she came from. "An' ah was jes' thinkin' about ye.."

Steve Rogers™ The corner of his mouth quirked in a half-smile. "You were? And why is that?" He stepped off to the side to let the normal sparse sidewalk pedestrian traffic by as he made his way a bit closer to her.

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne His half smile caused her grin to edge on mischievous. She clasped her hands behind her back, and her head tilting to the left caused her hair to fall along her shoulder. "Wull..ah jes' 'ad me an 'orrible night in tha E R. An' ah was jes' thinkin'a familiar faces tha' migh' give me spiri' a liftin'." That was a round about way of saying she had hoped to see him, that she thought it would cheer her up. But why get to the point so soon? That was a conversation killer. "An' ah thenk ah was right." Her grin widens just a bit, touching on bright and of course welcoming.

Steve Rogers™ "I see." he smiled again. He imagined that it wasn't really him that lifted her spirits, but a memory of how times had been way back then. But then he thought twice, Project Rebirth was horrific, they pumped him full of enough chemicals that his body basically methodically tore itself apart and put itself back together in better condition. Muscular fibers split; something that usually only happens in a feline species, and then grew so fast that the bones and tendons nearly broke as they tried to keep up. It was pretty awful, he even turned slightly green one point, doctors surmised it had to do something with all the fatigue toxins that had built up in his system. He stayed pretty bright though, stitched up and in pain, but he couldn't wait to get out there and fight, just like any other kid who'd read too many cowboy stories. Still...he wasn't much different, most of the time. "I'm just out to get a slice of pizza, wanna tag along? I'm buying. I'm rich." The last part is said as though he thinks it's pretty funny. War bonds + military paychecks + hazard pay + tons of years of interest = more money then a man like Steve Rogers could ever need or want.

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne And a woman like Reina didn't care about being rich. Family 'inheritance' for so many years, when it was really her all along. Some of her colleagues still won't talk to her. So is life. Her supervisor told her she had to tell patients she was a mutant, in fear of the hospital being sued. What a thought. "Aye, ah could use somethin' ta eat." What it was back then was still better than it was today. Everything moved too fast, including life. No one was ever happy with where they were or whom they were with at the time. It's always the future they think about. When you get as many years as Reina will. . .she thinks about the past too much. That day, that project, even if she was pushed in and out without really knowing what it was about. She was just there to sop up blood, try to keep the young mens' spirits up, even if she had to watch them die in turn. Steve was the one that remained, he was special in her heart. He was the only one of them she healed though. Maybe there was some guilt in that. But guilt was something she didn't like to dwell on, she had too much to regret, and too much guilt, that if she thought of it, she'd never leave her house. She slipped her arm around his, being escorted in a way she hadn't been...in years. Too long. "Lead tha way good sir.." she chuckled with those words, tonight she'd be happy.

Steve Rogers™ And so he did, stepping back into the sidewalk traffic. Walking slower, he had a longer stride than her and no shortage of energy and Angel looked a bit beat. But still beautiful, he hadn't noticed in the forties. Hadn't noticed any other woman but Gail in the forties. "You shouldn't be out here this late alone, anyway, even in this neighborhood..." It's a little bit safer though, especially with more of the mobile 'super heroes' out and about at all hours, like Spider-Man. Daily Bugle sure doesn't give that kid a break...

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Mm, ah suppose no', but ah also suppose ah don' do whut ah should most times." She let out a soft bit of laughter at the thought, but she turned her eyes back to Steve, and her smile softened. "But, et's sweet of ye...ta be worrin' about mah well bein'." Then it came to mind, that she hadn't told him that she'd come out, so to speak. She didn't tell him her real name, and that was a shame. One that had to be remedied immediately. "Ye can call me Reina now. People know abou' me. Ah don' get much respect at tha hospital now, but, at least ah'm bein' true to m'self." She gave his arm a bit of a squeeze. No more Angel, no more pretenses. "..except by tha few mutan' patients ah see from time ta time.."

Steve Rogers™ "Reina." He nodded. She was a mutant, he hadn't thought about it much, he supposes that he knew a few more of them in the war but never really put two and two together when he heard the definition after waking up. Mutants don't bother him, people who aren't trying to kill him or anyone else don't really bother him either. Sure, it's strange, but so is everything else. And besides that, he's a bit of a mutant himself. An anomaly at the least, to be the only person who survived the super-soldier program. Some sort of trick of nature... "I haven't seen you in a while, not quite as long as the last stretch...but still. Anyway, how've you been?"

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Good." She has been. Avoiding getting caught at certain hobbies, keeping herself amused, and still being able to do what she loves. "Not a thing ta complain abou'." But she had missed him. In this life, you have to hold onto real substantial friends. "An' ye? I must say, ah've missed ye a bit."

Steve Rogers™ "Can't complain." Really. It's quite difficult for him. That's why he hates seeing the team psychiatrist. He smiles at her when she mentions that she missed him. "Yeah, sorry, guess I ought to keep in touch more." He stops at the front of Gino's Famous Italian Deli and then opens the door for her.

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne Long days blended together. Sometimes it gets to her, that all the friends she has now, even Steve, will cease to be...and she'll be alone. It's a sobering thought when she thinks she's grasped onto a friendship. It's why she hasn't been with anyone..not since Geoffrey. It's a lonely life. "Wull, ah'll jes' 'ave ta keep ye ta tha' word, m?" She steps inside, and the smell of food triggers her to realize she hasn't eaten since lunch, and she really is hungrier than she imagined. "Ah think jes' a slice o' pepperoni fer me.." She was easy to please, sometimes.

Steve Rogers™ "I'll just get a small, then. They sell it by the slice, but I've got one of those appetites anyway..." He pulls off his trench coat and then folds it up before setting it across the back of a chair, then he heads towards the counter, before turning around again. "You want anything to drink? I'm getting a Coke myself."

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Aye..a coke." No silly diet cokes for her, then again, the way she pushed herself, perhaps she should get two. She sat lightly down at the table where he laid his trench, and she folded her hands on the table top. She found herself watching him, the way he interacted with the man behind the counter. His smile. When she realized she was watching him, her cheeks flushed just a bit. There couldn't be those thoughts for him...could there?

Steve Rogers™ And of course after a few short jokes, he grabbed the pitcher and the pizza tray and headed back towards the table...holding them overhead to dodge a few of the other customers before setting them down carefully on the table and sitting down himself. "Boy, the city that never sleeps, huh?"

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne She lifted her eyes up, and she smiled widely for a moment, but she nodded then and pushed the expression to soften some. "Aye, ah'd say somethen' about them needin' ta be in bed, but, look at us." She let him pour the soda, but she took her own piece of pizza, and she bit into it. Was some of the best pizza she'd had, but she didn't eat it often. "Mm..a'll have ta remember this place..."

Steve Rogers™ "Yeah." He nods after finishing a bite himself. "I love Italian food, great stuff...really sticks to your ribs." He smirks a bit, then takes a gulp of Coke to wash it down. Then he tries to think of something to say. But that doesn't work, so he gnaws on another slice of pizza. Conversation doesn't come real easy these days, he hasn't seen or done much of interest. Hasn't seen any movies, ready any magazines, no books. Just training and a few S.H.I.E.L.D. missions.

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne Her mind turns over things to say while she takes another bite. Ye look nice, she thought to herself, but she couldn't really compel herself to say it. After a moment or two, she does, then, doing what her brain thinks she shouldn't do. "Ye look nice..." but is that what she really meant. "Good..ah mean..good." A faint pink touches her cheeks and she laughs it away. "Ah trust tha holidays went well withou' me.." that and other things. She didn't like to go to movies either, but it was because that seemed like something people did in twos, not ones. Nothing like back then. Then something dawns on her. "Ah remember tha first time ah saw Anchors Aweigh...with Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra." If they couldn't talk about current movies...then why not movies back then...back when he might remember them.

Steve Rogers™ "I do?" He glances down, blue jeans and a white black t-shirt. All he ever seems to wear is blue jeans, t-shirts, suits, and uniforms. The classics don't really go out of style after all. He shrugs and then looks up at her. "You look pretty good yourself. And tired, but..." He chuckles. "that doesn't seem to take away from it anyway. At all." He chews on his lower lip and narrows his eyes a bit, trying to remember. "Don't think I saw it...what's that one about?"

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne His compliment makes her smile a bit more broadly, and that pink in her cheeks remains. "Aye, well, when ye do wha' ah do for as long as ah do et...ye'd be tired too." "Well, let's see if ah remember. Ah think et was a musical...'bout sailors on liberty...in Los Angeles...but ye know...Los Angeles..back then..no' now." Et might be a gang-land horror, or a movie of unmentionable origins if it were today. Especially a musical. "Et was funny, ah believe..tha way they danced and sang all about like those movies back then." Then another bright idea came to mind. "Ye know...we could watch those...et might take a while...but..et might be fun."

Steve Rogers™ He might. Mentally anyway. Physically he doesn't get tired at all, which ends up making him feel just a little anxious all the time. Heck, it's half the reason he's not in bed right now. He nods at her. "Works for me, could get called away...but it's worth a shot."

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne A wide grin appears on her features. She did like movies, once upon a time, when they weren't all about sex and violence. Sometimes she enjoys a modern movie in the privacy of her home, when it means something. "With popcorn, aye, must have popcorn." She didn't feel excitement often. Not true real heart fluttering excitement, like right now. She had something to look forward to.

Steve Rogers™ "Sure, wouldn't be right without it." Another gulp of Coke, and then pouring himself another glass. It used to be the stuff was way too expensive to have more than occasionally when he was younger. But it was always the first thing he bought on payday. "I missed a lot of 'em during the war, even during the USO shows...and especially when I was in 'em. Usually working off a bad case of nerves." Another short chuckle. "It took me a while to catch up with all the Dodgers games I missed too."

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne In thought, she rolled her tongue over the tops of her back teeth. Her grin widened some and she looked up at him. There was this dancing quality to the green depths as she reached across the table to grab his arm lightly, leaving the warm lingering touch that the hint of her healing left. "Ah bet we could get those ta watch too." She lifted and then lowered both brows a couple times, then nodded to herself. "Aye, ah bet we could...an' those wouldnae be complete..without hot dogs.."

Steve Rogers™ He glances down at her hand curiously and then suddenly laughs. "Sorry. Victory Cabbage. I was remembering Victory Cabbage." Shaking his head. "I couldn't believe that...never thought that would happen again, but sure enough...Freedom Fries."

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Aye, tha first time ah 'eard Freedom Fries, ah couldnae stop laughin', all ah could say to tha poor lad was Victory Cabbage." She chuckled still, laughter bringing the sheen of wet to her gaze. She then drew her hand away from his arm, to take a drink from her coke. "Ye think they'd learn."

Steve Rogers™ He nods. "I wonder what they'd have thought back then if they'd known that a lot of us soldiers who were stationed in German countries for a while developed a taste for the food. And the women." Clearing his throat. "Bucky, not me. Not that I have something against German women, it's just Bucky and some of the other fellas...well, Bucky spoke a hell - pardon - heck of a lot of foreign languages...they really liked him. He had a way about him, always envied it, just a little before Gail came along."

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Aye, ah remember seein' pictures...bein' there.." Her smile faded some, and she shook her head. Gail. Made her think of Geoffrey. So long ago. She ran her right hand up her left arm to let it rest against her left shoulder, where it curled into the fabric of her shirt. He'd been the first man she'd ever healed. Odd how things happen. "Been a while.." Her lips spilled those words without thought, and she chuckled to make it seem like it were really nothing. "Ye don' need ta apologize fer cursin'. Ah 'ear enough'a tha at work."

Steve Rogers™ He nods, smiling faintly. "I should kick the habit, though, some little kid could hear me or..." Shaking his head and then propping it against his hand. "In the middle of the night, I'm worried about that, of all things."

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Tha's because ye 'ave a good heart." Reaching across the table again, this time she patted his hand that rested against his head. "There aren' men like ye..." she down cast her eyes, that might not be the best thing to say. "Ah mean...ah wish there were more like ye.."

Steve Rogers™ "Sure there are. They're just seventy now." A faint smile, then he straightens up. "Well, I'm ready to get out of here, how about you? I'll even let you take the leftovers."

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Oh aye? Tryin' ta fatten me up, m?" She glances down, but chuckles just the same, but she rises and she nods to the counter, where she supposed she'd get a box. "Ah'll be right back then.." She turned to the counter and headed that way.

Steve Rogers™ "Just trying to keep you fed..." He stands, putting on his coat.

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne She returns with a box to put the pizza in, and when she's all set to go, she grins to him. "Aye, somebody 'as ta." She stepped close to him, and gave him another warm smile, before she stepped nearer yet, and kissed his cheek, gently. "Thank ye."

Steve Rogers™ He smiles again, catching her gaze for a moment. "Happy to." Then opening the door for her again. "So how far away are you? You want a ride, my car isn't far from here...I don't want you walking or taking the subway home."

Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "A ways. Ah would ver'much like a ride, thank ye again." She glanced up and down the side walk as they exited, her pizza box in one arm, her other arm taking his again. There was a time that this was the proper way to escort a lady. These days, holding hands seemed to suffice. Then again, there really were no dukes or duchesses of New York any longer. A title she held once upon a time. "Tha' would be ver' sweet of ye." She gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

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