It's been a month since I met Carson. I've been seeing him every week at the gym and once or twice a week at the park. We always talk for a bit. It's weird, but it's a nice weird.

I spend longer than usual getting ready to leave for my self-defense class this evening. Not that it makes much difference. I'm still in my slightly grungy workout clothes- 'until just recently, I had never seen a reason for buying cute workout clothes' –with minimal makeup and my hair in a bun at the base of my head. Actually, I look exactly the same. Well, that's a depressing revelation.

As I finish filling my water bottle, there's a knock on my door and I open it to see Steve. "Hey! I thought you were still out of town- on, business?"

His grins. "I got home this afternoon. I remembered that your class is tonight. Would you like me to keep you company on the way there? I could use a workout tonight to unwind anyway."

I raise an eyebrow. "You just got back from a weeklong mission and you're going to the gym to unwind? Have you been psychoanalyzed since thawing from the deep freeze?"

Steve's smile shifts to the side in an amused smirk. "I believe it's been proven that exercise releases endorphins, which help to raise your mood. And there's somethin' about its repetitive nature that I find to be particularly calming."

"Whatever, you big weirdo." I say through a laugh. "Netflix and freshly baked cookies are way more relaxing than beating an inanimate object until your fists are bloody. Well, not your fists. Because, you know, your 'superness' makes you absurdly resistant to damage. Also beefy. Do you even need to exercise?" I pause as I poke his muscled arm. Steve just chuckles.

My phone buzzes.

"Shoot." I mumble as I grab it and shut off my reminder to leave. I'm running late. "Did you want to stay in tonight or do you sincerely want to go show off- sorry, 'relax' at the gym?"

Steve smiles. "A session would help me work out some kinks. You ready to go?"

"Yeah," I smile back. "We'd better get going if I don't want to be late to class. And I don't. Want to be late, that is. For class. So, let's go."

"Yes, very efficient there, Anne." Steve mocks me as I lock my door.

"You know, it still weirds me out when you use sarcasm."

He scoffs playfully as he starts down the hall. "I'm not allowed to be sarcastic?"

I pretend to think about it, trotting to keep up with his pace. "Nope. You're too nice. Sarcasm is by definition a harsh, bitter, cutting thing. And you're..." I trail off.

"I'm what?" He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, not turning his head.

I actually do think this time. "You're...you. Not some goody-goody, just...good. You probably don't realize this but your actions and reactions are on a level no longer commonly seen by the average person." It's vague, but I can't think of how to better describe it.

Steve seems unsure how to take this.

"It's one of my favorite things about you," I add, putting him at ease.

Out of my peripheral vision, I see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

≈o≈

We're at the gym sooner than I expected. I'd forgotten how easy it is to pass the time with Steve. He stays with me for a little once we enter, saying that he'd like to talk to my instructor who happens to also be one of the owners of the gym. They apparently have some sort of understanding because, let's face it, if you had a superhero as a patron of your physical fitness establishment, don't you think you'd catch on at some point?

While they talk beside me, I see Carson across the room. He looks at me and I smile, but he immediately drops his eyes and acts like he didn't see me.

'Okay, I'm not an expert on friends, but that seems like a thing friends wouldn't do, right?'

I try a couple more times through class to subtly get his attention, but he dutifully ignores me. I suppose this should make me upset that I've done something to offend him. But it doesn't. Instead, I'm mad at him. I know I haven't done anything wrong. Whatever the reason is for him ignoring me and being a dummy, it's all on him.

When class is over and I approach Steve who was waiting for me, he notices that I'm not happy.

"What's wrong? Do I need to punch somebody? Do you need to punch somebody?"

I shake my head, and then nod, and then shake my head again. "I don't know," I groan. "Making friends is too complicated." I pick up my wallet, phone, and water bottle.

Steve sends a look of surprise as we walk to the door. "You made a friend?"

I smack his arm, immediately regretting it. "Yes! Don't sound so shocked. I can make friends! You know, in theory. I think he's a friend, at least I thought he was."

"He?" Steve questions. He glances at me as we make our way down the street.

"Yeah, Carson. I met him at the park about a month ago. He recognized me from our gym. He's been a member for the last seven months or so, apparently. We've talked a bit here and some at the park." We pause at a crosswalk – you have to look both ways, kids.

I'm glancing to the side so I don't reenact 'bug meets windshield'. This is why I don't see Steve stop and I instead crash into his back. He, of course, doesn't move. I, on the other hand, am sent straight onto my rear end on the curb behind me.

'So much for avoiding "bug meets windshield". That's going to bruise.'

Steve turns, hands on his hips, to look down at me. "Have you been walking to the gym at night, by yourself, since the mugger?"

"'Attempted murderer'; let's refer to him by his more notable deed, shall we? And...yes. Who was I going to get to walk with me? You've been gone a lot and besides, I'm not a child. I don't need a babysitter," I answer grumpily as he helps me to my feet. I try to discreetly rub my heinie.

His jaw tightens, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns and starts to cross the street and I follow a bit behind him. "Have the others met him?"

I know he means the Avengers. "No."

Steve huffs slightly. "Do they even know about him?"

"No. He's barely more than an acquaintance. I didn't feel the need to announce to the world that there is some sort of tenuous, indefinable-as-yet relationship between us."

He's quiet a moment longer before asking, "is he the somebody you wanted to punch?"

"Eh." I make a noncommittal noise. "He was ignoring me for no reason. I don't put myself out there very often so any rejection is delightfully sharp. I was being over emotional. Now I'm just over it."

Steve still looks a bit miffed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd want to hear about him."

He doesn't say anything.

"I promise that if he graduates from friend-ish to friend, you'll be the first to know."

Steve's still silent, though his expression has softened.

"You know, as my bestie, you'll have certain duties when it comes to new friend prospects."

The slightest hint of a smile sets about his mouth as he glances at me. "'Bestie'?" The confusion that is hidden in his expression is clear in his voice.

"Short for 'best friend'." I rush. "Any new friend has to meet the bestie; it's the rules." I explain further. "So you, my Yankee Doodle Dandy, will have an interview to conduct should I ever make a friend prospect. Ugh. I'm making this sound so boring and technical." Even though I'm watching where I walk and not his face, I'm sure he's smiling.

"Good. I've been meaning to practice my interrogation techniques anyway."

"Oh, come on!" I whine playfully, even though he's probably serious. "At least save the scary stuff for someone who's boyfriend material."

Steve glances back to me as he slows his pace a little. "You don't think he has potential then, for- that?" something hesitating in his voice.

I shrug. "I barely know him. He seems nice, I guess. But he isn't- I mean, I don't know."

'Lie. Poor Carson doesn't have a snowball's chance when you keep comparing him to Steve.'

He looks at me a breath longer before turning back to face frontwards. We've reached the block where our apartment building is and Steve only walks faster. I practically run to catch up.

"Oi! Can you slow down, please? I'm a lot shorter than you which means my legs can't cover as much ground as quickly as your freakish pair can."

I see him smirk, but he does slow down. A bit.

In no time, we've reached the front door and Steve holds it open for me. Of course. "Thanks." I say flatly. He just grins.

-------------------------------

A/N: This one was a bit dull again, sorry. But we are coming up to some more fluffy stuff in a bit. So, yay? Gotta have some cake to temper the frosting, I guess. I know what I'm talking about you guys, I'm totally a professional baker.

I'm not.

I don't know what I'm saying anymore.

Public service announcement - sleep is important for healthy brain function.