S.H.I.E.L.D. H.Q. in New York was like a second home to those who worked for the agency and as such, Steve and Lucy had their own quarters there where they were able to rest and take meals and live as comfortably as possible, and yet, it wasn't home. Not really. Home was the house in Brooklyn where their family was waiting for them to return. Steve had spoken briefly to Liv a few nights ago and assured her they were fine and would be home soon, but that wasn't going to happen until Captain and Doctor Rogers had completed their duties. For Steve, that had meant a lengthy debriefing with Nick Fury, and for Lucy, it was working in the lab to ensure the children had suffered no ill effects from their ordeal. Understandably, Steve couldn't help but worry about his wife, who had just undergone her own ordeal, and he was anxious to take her home.
After two days and a lengthy debriefing, Steve had finally reached the end of his patience. He knew what they were doing was important, but he wanted to take Lucy home, and he wasn't taking no for an answer. With that in mind, he made his way through the corridors toward the lab, knowing that was where he'd find his wife. He wasn't wearing his uniform, but a S.H.I.E.L.D. t-shirt that strained at his bulk, a pair of blue track pants, and sneakers, and yet, everyone he passed saluted him, as though they all knew precisely who he was.
He found his wife sitting on the gurney in her lab with one of the boys who had been rescued, letting him play with her stethoscope with one hand while she checked his vitals. Her left arm was in a sling, purely to keep her from pulling stitches out with natural movement, but aside from that bandage, she was already dressed in civvies. Steve's warning that they were going home today, regardless of whether or not she felt she'd finished up, had been heeded - she'd dared the disapproval of the chief medic to wear her own S.H.I.E.L.D. tee with her jeans to finish up her assessments this morning.
Steve knew how important Lucy's job was, not only to her but to the children she was helping, but he also knew she wouldn't be any good to anyone - including her own son - if she didn't give herself time to rest and recuperate. Normally, Steve Rogers was a very patient man, but not so much when it came to the well-being of those he loved. Fresh from Nick Fury's office, he was feeling a little irritated with the man, but he squashed his own feelings quickly enough when he saw that his wife busy with a very young patient. "Hello," Steve greeted the boy, though he wasn't sure whether the boy knew any English.
The boy looked up - and further up - trusting eyes wide as his mouth fell open. Lucy chuckled at the reaction, gently slipping her hand from the child's wrist. "I don't need to guess who is standing behind me, then," she commented in amusement. "Martin, this is my husband, Steve." Given the way she pronounced the boy's name, he was clearly of French origin, but seemed conversant with English, nodding his understanding as he looked up at the big man standing behind the smiling doctor. Lucy tipped her head back to look up at Steve herself. "We're almost done," she promised him.
"Bonjour, Martin," Steve greeted the boy in his own language. He was fluent in several languages, though that skill was rarely needed these days. "Ca va"" he asked the boy, hoping to make him a little comfortable by speaking in his own native tongue. "Take your time," he told Lucy, smiling fondly back at her, relaxing a little in her company.
"Bonjour, monsieur," the little boy answered him with a delighted smile. "Ca va bien, merci. Et vous"" He was clearly more comfortable in French, but had more than enough English to get by. Lucy's smile warmed as she claimed her stethoscope back from Martin, easing herself from the bed to write down the observations on the chart that lay on her desk.
"Bien, aussi. Comment allez-vous" Est-ce que vous avez besoin?" Steve asked further. How are you feeling" Is there anything you need" If it had been anyone else, they might have just been polite words, but Steve really meant them and was as concerned for Lucy's young patients as she was.
Martin smiled, seemingly relaxed in this strange place, far away from where he had been harmed by stern strangers who did not talk to him. "Non, monsieur," he promised Steve with a nod, shifting back into English. "I have well, thank you. The madame, she is very good to us."
Across the room, Lucy smiled to herself as she tapped away on the computer, waiting patiently for the escort to return and take the boy back to where the other children were staying for now.
Steve sat down beside the boy on the gurney, so that he wasn't towering over him and was more on an even level. "She is very good to me, too," Steve said with a smile, shifting back to English, not really caring if Lucy heard what was said between them. He'd only thought to put the boy more at ease. "How old are you, Martin?"
The boy grinned. "I am sept, seven," he said, offering his age in both French and English. "Ma soeur, she is five, cinque." That was an interesting discovery - that of the four children who had been rescued from that Arctic facility, two were siblings. There was only conjecture as to what had actually been the goal of the scientists there, but thankfully it seemed that whatever had been done had been reversible.
"Seven!" Steve repeated, whistling in appreciation. "Nearly a man. You take good care of your sister?" he asked further, not only making conversation and trying to put the boy at ease, but trying to get to know a little more about him, too. "What's her name?"
"Lianne," Martin told him, already confident that this huge man would not use anything he said against him. "She was sick, but the madame, she made her better again." He shifted a little, reaching to scratch at an odd-looking mark on his neck. From across the room, Lucy made a quiet sound, and he pulled his hand away before he scratched, grinning guiltily.
"Lianne," Steve echoed with a smile. "That's a pretty name." He glanced briefly at Lucy, arching a curious brow before looking back at the boy, noticing the mild scolding she'd given him and the grin in return. It was obvious to Steve that Lucy had easily gained the boy's trust, but that didn't really surprise him. "You don't have to worry or be afraid anymore, Martin. I promise we're going to take good care of you and your sister. Everyone here just wants you both to get better."
"She is tres belle, monsieur," Martin insisted, nodding firmly. Whatever else he might feel, it was clear that he adored his little sister. He was also sitting on his hands to keep from scratching at that mark, fidgeting awkwardly with the urge to do just that. He smiled at Steve, trusting the big man purely because he was gentle and because he was the madame's husband. In time, he would trust Steve for Steve's sake.
Lucy came up to Steve's side, a small pot in her hand. "Spread a little of this on that itchy mark," she told her husband. "It will stop le petit monsieur from scratching." This was offered with a comical grimace to Martin, who giggled.
After two days and a lengthy debriefing, Steve had finally reached the end of his patience. He knew what they were doing was important, but he wanted to take Lucy home, and he wasn't taking no for an answer. With that in mind, he made his way through the corridors toward the lab, knowing that was where he'd find his wife. He wasn't wearing his uniform, but a S.H.I.E.L.D. t-shirt that strained at his bulk, a pair of blue track pants, and sneakers, and yet, everyone he passed saluted him, as though they all knew precisely who he was.
He found his wife sitting on the gurney in her lab with one of the boys who had been rescued, letting him play with her stethoscope with one hand while she checked his vitals. Her left arm was in a sling, purely to keep her from pulling stitches out with natural movement, but aside from that bandage, she was already dressed in civvies. Steve's warning that they were going home today, regardless of whether or not she felt she'd finished up, had been heeded - she'd dared the disapproval of the chief medic to wear her own S.H.I.E.L.D. tee with her jeans to finish up her assessments this morning.
Steve knew how important Lucy's job was, not only to her but to the children she was helping, but he also knew she wouldn't be any good to anyone - including her own son - if she didn't give herself time to rest and recuperate. Normally, Steve Rogers was a very patient man, but not so much when it came to the well-being of those he loved. Fresh from Nick Fury's office, he was feeling a little irritated with the man, but he squashed his own feelings quickly enough when he saw that his wife busy with a very young patient. "Hello," Steve greeted the boy, though he wasn't sure whether the boy knew any English.
The boy looked up - and further up - trusting eyes wide as his mouth fell open. Lucy chuckled at the reaction, gently slipping her hand from the child's wrist. "I don't need to guess who is standing behind me, then," she commented in amusement. "Martin, this is my husband, Steve." Given the way she pronounced the boy's name, he was clearly of French origin, but seemed conversant with English, nodding his understanding as he looked up at the big man standing behind the smiling doctor. Lucy tipped her head back to look up at Steve herself. "We're almost done," she promised him.
"Bonjour, Martin," Steve greeted the boy in his own language. He was fluent in several languages, though that skill was rarely needed these days. "Ca va"" he asked the boy, hoping to make him a little comfortable by speaking in his own native tongue. "Take your time," he told Lucy, smiling fondly back at her, relaxing a little in her company.
"Bonjour, monsieur," the little boy answered him with a delighted smile. "Ca va bien, merci. Et vous"" He was clearly more comfortable in French, but had more than enough English to get by. Lucy's smile warmed as she claimed her stethoscope back from Martin, easing herself from the bed to write down the observations on the chart that lay on her desk.
"Bien, aussi. Comment allez-vous" Est-ce que vous avez besoin?" Steve asked further. How are you feeling" Is there anything you need" If it had been anyone else, they might have just been polite words, but Steve really meant them and was as concerned for Lucy's young patients as she was.
Martin smiled, seemingly relaxed in this strange place, far away from where he had been harmed by stern strangers who did not talk to him. "Non, monsieur," he promised Steve with a nod, shifting back into English. "I have well, thank you. The madame, she is very good to us."
Across the room, Lucy smiled to herself as she tapped away on the computer, waiting patiently for the escort to return and take the boy back to where the other children were staying for now.
Steve sat down beside the boy on the gurney, so that he wasn't towering over him and was more on an even level. "She is very good to me, too," Steve said with a smile, shifting back to English, not really caring if Lucy heard what was said between them. He'd only thought to put the boy more at ease. "How old are you, Martin?"
The boy grinned. "I am sept, seven," he said, offering his age in both French and English. "Ma soeur, she is five, cinque." That was an interesting discovery - that of the four children who had been rescued from that Arctic facility, two were siblings. There was only conjecture as to what had actually been the goal of the scientists there, but thankfully it seemed that whatever had been done had been reversible.
"Seven!" Steve repeated, whistling in appreciation. "Nearly a man. You take good care of your sister?" he asked further, not only making conversation and trying to put the boy at ease, but trying to get to know a little more about him, too. "What's her name?"
"Lianne," Martin told him, already confident that this huge man would not use anything he said against him. "She was sick, but the madame, she made her better again." He shifted a little, reaching to scratch at an odd-looking mark on his neck. From across the room, Lucy made a quiet sound, and he pulled his hand away before he scratched, grinning guiltily.
"Lianne," Steve echoed with a smile. "That's a pretty name." He glanced briefly at Lucy, arching a curious brow before looking back at the boy, noticing the mild scolding she'd given him and the grin in return. It was obvious to Steve that Lucy had easily gained the boy's trust, but that didn't really surprise him. "You don't have to worry or be afraid anymore, Martin. I promise we're going to take good care of you and your sister. Everyone here just wants you both to get better."
"She is tres belle, monsieur," Martin insisted, nodding firmly. Whatever else he might feel, it was clear that he adored his little sister. He was also sitting on his hands to keep from scratching at that mark, fidgeting awkwardly with the urge to do just that. He smiled at Steve, trusting the big man purely because he was gentle and because he was the madame's husband. In time, he would trust Steve for Steve's sake.
Lucy came up to Steve's side, a small pot in her hand. "Spread a little of this on that itchy mark," she told her husband. "It will stop le petit monsieur from scratching." This was offered with a comical grimace to Martin, who giggled.