KJ Charles hasn't written a book I haven't enjoyed, and Death in the Spires keeps the streak going. Her combination of historical research, brightly drawn characters, and her ability to write an interesting mystery makes this standalone book another great one.
This time, it's 1905 in England, and former Oxford scholarship kid Jem is ten years on from the death of a friend that collapsed his whole life. An anonymous note claiming he's the murderer sends him on the hunt to figure out who it was. They were a group of fast friends, but after the murder, they ran away from each other, all of them knowing one of them had to have done it.
The romance I come to KJ for is much more on the back-burner for this one, and I didn't mind at all. Jem is an interesting and tenacious character, and his former friends are a fascinating set. The final twists are delicious, and I love how it ended, even if it wasn't a perfect Happily Ever After that's more common in romance.
If you've never tried any of KJ's books and are looking for quality queer romance (this one's m/m, but KJ's written all sorts of love stories), this is a good start.
Date of birth: 10 December 609 (In Virginian time & year)
Current location: New York.
Favourite colours: Gray, Green, Black, Blue and Red.
Favourite food: fries and burgers, Pasta, Mulukhiyah soup, fortune cookies.
Likes to: To feed and care for animals, to help people, to talk to people (include giving advice), to meet new people and so on, to sing. He has a green electric guitar named ‘spike’ 💚🧡🎸
Body-shape: semi-muscular.
Height: 6’5 (196cm).
Hair colour / type: smooth / soft short Peach-Blonde hair.
Eyes: Gray almond-shaped eyes.
Notable features: handsome face, a mole under his right lower lip.
Aura colour: Gold, so is his magic’s colour.
Inspired by: Arnold Jackson from Totally Spies (Name only) and unnamed background character, also a blonde handsome model with tanned skin, from totally spices, John Constantine from DC.
Pets: Doesn’t have one.
Powers:
Virginian magic. (Includes telekinesis, fire blasts, energy blasts, forcefield generation and high intuition, etc)
Superhuman stamina.
Superhuman strength.
Great strategist.
Great healing powers.
Semi-Immortality.
Ownership of enchanted weapons.
Can understand animals but he doesn’t talk to them.
“Be the reason there is goodness left in this world” __Arnold Lopez.
The lore
Coming from the prestigious family ‘Al-Khaghdasaryan’ famous for their curse breaking and cleansing from demonic possession — and also, for purifying haunted places and banishing evil spirits.
Arnold knew little of his Virginian heritage, Let alone his prestigious family; since his aunt: Lydia Fallon, had taken care of him since he was a little boy, no older than 10.
The year was 1731 on Earth; when he was brought by his aunt and they lived peacefully in New York.
The city was quiet at this time; with a few people walking then and there, enjoying the clean air and the beautiful, bright sun. The sky, is a perfect shade of pale blue littered with a few thick white clouds, as if they are white cotton candy on a blue plate.
Arnold walked through the door, weary and starving after a long day of school in the quiet city of New York. The mere scent of cooked food filled his nostrils, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace towards the kitchen. He cordially greeted his aunt, who was already dishing out the meal onto plates.
His aunt looked up, a warm smile on her face as she noticed his hungry expression. "Hungry, are you, my boy?" she affectionately asked, her eyes sparkling with affection.
Arnold smiled and nodded, his stomach rumbling in response to the delicious aroma wafting through the air. He took a seat at the table and breathed in deeply, savouring the smell of the freshly cooked meal. "Absolutely starving," he replied, feeling his mouth water at the sight of the food. "It smells amazing," His aunt chuckled, her expression warm and affectionate as she served up the plates.
Arnold's aunt beamed at his compliment, her eyes filled with pride as she watched him take a bite of the food she had prepared. The meal was a sumptuous feast, with succulent meat and fresh vegetables beautifully arranged on the plates. As Arnold ate, his aunt, Lydia had struck up a conversation with him, engaging in lighthearted banter and chatter.
His aunt swallowed a spoonful of the mouth-watering meal, her voice firm. "Eat, and get dressed."
Arnold looked up from his plate, eyes meeting hers. "Are we going to cleanse another troubled house?" he muttered, his tone tinged with a mixture of resignation and curiosity.
She nodded. "Aye," she replied, a hint of determination in her eyes. "That's what we'll be doing."
Arnold nodded wordlessly, returning to his plate and taking another spoonful of the delicious food his aunt had prepared.
Arnold continued to eat, his thoughts revolving around the upcoming task of purifying another haunted house. His aunt broke the silence, her voice matter-of-fact.
"We'll need to do some preparation before we head out," she informed him. "Grab your gear and make sure it's all in order."
Arnold nodded once more, he’d prepared his gear and other equipment after he’d finished his plate.
A while later, Arnold is getting ready. His hands methodically gather his belongings – his protective talismans, various tools, and other necessities. He felt a twinge of anxiety, the thought of facing another haunting was always a bit unnerving.
As soon as he readied himself, His aunt entered the room. She was dressed in a brown 1700s fashion style top, with long sleeves and ruffled around the hem, a long black and blue skirt with buttons and ruffles too — lastly, brown flats and a sunhat with white feathers and armed with enchanted daggers.
His aunt; is a beautiful Virginian tall woman with smooth olive-tone skin, almond-shaped large green eyes as if they were glowing emeralds, and wavy yet thick ebony hair that hung past her backside in soft curls. Lastly, a mole on her upper; giving her the iconic seductress air. She looks beautiful and mesmerising in her regal Virginian beauty. It always puzzled Arnold why his aunt was still single and unmarried while being this beautiful, he pondered that she’d face catcalls, and men flirting with her on a daily basis.
As Arnold finished gathering his supplies, his aunt stood up, a resolute look in her eyes. "It's time to go," she said, her voice firm but gentle.
With a deep breath, Arnold followed her out the door, their journey to the haunted house beginning in earnest. The air was thick with anticipation and a hint of trepidation as they made their way to their destination, the knowledge that they were about to confront yet another malevolent spirit weighing heavily on both of them.
Arnold and his aunt strolled to the garage. After his aunt took the carriage out of the garage, they didn’t need horses because she’d use her Virginian magic to move it. Arnold pondered how his aunt managed to convince the locals they were blessed with ‘the help of angels’ she’d say. To him, It is just a straight-up lie to cover their usage of magic, and it worked.
Arnold and Lydia are now in the carriage, She used her magic to move it around the quiet streets of New York. Some people were flabbergasted that she could move it without horses, but hey! She is an exorcist. A good follow of Jesus.
Arnold let out a weary sigh, crossing his arms to try to disguise his discomfort at the attention they were receiving. He tried to brush it off but it was extremely difficult for him not to be unbothered by it. The people were eyeing them as if they were aliens or highly intellectual beings.
Ever the cautious man, Arnold sighed again. Stealing a glance at his aunt as she expertly drove the black large carriage. “Couldn’t we at least have a horse?” He asked, his tone is tinged with slight annoyance.
She heartily chuckled at that. “Why need a horse when we have magic,” she quipped, Her lovely voice thick with an Irish accent.
He shrugged, his expression somewhat irritated and annoyed. “We should try to blend in, and right now, you aren’t doing a great job.” He grumbled, his gaze fixated on her for a moment before shifting toward the passing streets and signs.
The carriage continued to move through the streets, the people watching them with a mixture of curiosity and awe. Arnold continued to feel uncomfortable under their staring eyes, his arms still crossed defensively.
He turned his attention back to his aunt, who maintained her calm demeanour despite the stares. "How much longer until we get there?" he asked, his voice slightly frustrated.
She glanced at him, a reassuring smile playing on her lips. "Not long now," she reassured him. "We're almost there."
The Peach-Blonde-haired man shifted in his seat, his annoyance growing. "These people are staring at us like we're some kind of spectacle," he muttered, his voice dripping with irritation.
The Virginian-Irish emerald-eyed woman's smile widened at his comment, her eyes flashing with amusement. His aunt grinned before she teased him. "What, never had people admire you before, lad?" she teased her tone light and teasing.
Arnold rolled his eyes, trying to downplay his discomfort. "Yeah, yeah, very funny," he dryly retorted.
She suppressed a chuckle; enjoying his grumpy attitude. "Lighten up, Arnold," she wholeheartedly stated, her voice still dripping with amusement. "You’re acting as if it’s the first time someone looks at you."
Arnold breathed deeply although his irritation was still evident. "Well, it’s not exactly comfortable, you know," he grumbled, his arms still crossing stubbornly.
They finally stopped at some deserted field area, there was a lonely house and a farm on the hill, and to his luck; it just had begun raining on them. A sense of unease settled in Arnold’s heart as he took in the desolate landscape before him. The empty, haunting field seemed to exude a vicious, malevolent aura, its emptiness chilling to the very core. His intuition screamed at him, a primal instinct telling him to grab the steering wheel and flee, but his commitment to the task at hand kept him rooted in his seat.
His aunt had taken the equipment they needed from the carriage, and then they both exited it. They couldn’t wait for a soul to guide them to which place they were looking for. Arnold begrudgingly followed his aunt as she tucked a protection talisman on her neck like some jewellery.
The silence that enveloped the area was deafening, the absence of any sound adding to the eeriness of the place. The only sound that could be heard was the wind softly whispering, its low murmur echoing the desolation of the surroundings. Arnold glanced around, the eerie silence of the field making the fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end.
Arnold reluctantly followed his aunt’s lead as they ventured deeper into the ominous, cursed field. The silence was deafening, the absence of any noise only serving to increase his sense of dread. He couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that gnawed at his gut, a feeling that only seemed to grow stronger with each step they took, and the heavy rain did nothing to ease his concern.
His eyes darted around, trying to find any source of comfort or reassurance, but all he could see was the endless stretch of emptiness — a soundless hallowed abyss that only seemed to grow and stretch at every step they took.
The air was thick with an ominous presence as if the very land itself was holding its breath in anticipation. Arnold's eyes darted around the deserted landscape, his senses on high alert.
"This place feels off," he muttered, his voice low and wary. He turned to his aunt, his expression wary. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"
Her expression remained steady, her eyes fixed on the field before them. "Yes, this is the place," she replied, her tone calm and confident. "I've done some scouting; the malevolent spirit is somewhere around here."
Arnold’s unease only increased at her words. "Somewhere around here," he echoed, his voice laced with scepticism. "That really narrows it down, doesn’t it?"
She shot him a stern look. "Trust me, I know what I’m doing," she assured him, her tone firm. "I wouldn’t have brought us here if I wasn’t sure."
Arnold grumbled under his breath, his discomfort still present. "Yeah, well, forgive me for not feeling reassured," he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration
To their utter surprise, a woman approached them; she looked in her prime, probably in her 20s or maybe 30s. She is fair-skinned, has gorgeous hazelnut orbs, and has a long black curtain of smooth hair.
Arnold immediately studied the woman; as the perceptive and observant man he is; he was quite taken back — not by her beauty. But this woman seemed off. First of all: she didn’t look drenched in the heavy rain, and secondly she wore a different clothing than their era, probably from an older era than theirs.
The young exorcist had two explanations for this: either she was too poor and couldn’t afford new clothes or she was their target, an evil, malicious spirit who was trying to lure them to their doom. Arnold needed to alert his aunt without the woman noticing them, so he did the known sign by them, he tapped his two forefingers together as they made contact with each other, and they let out a similar sound to a ‘finger snap’.
Arnold's thoughts raced as he discreetly signalled to his aunt, his fingertips clicking together in a subtle warning. His eyes flicked towards the woman, the possible danger making him concerned.
His aunt caught his message in an instant, her keen intuition picking up on the silent warning, However. She schooled her expression into a cold, unreadable mask. Thankfully, the woman was blissfully unaware of their knowledge.
Her calm exterior belied the seriousness of the situation, the realization of impending danger evident in the way her eyes darkened. They were in the presence of peril, and their every move would need to be deliberate and vigilant.
The woman, seemingly oblivious to their silent communication, continued talking as if everything was normal. Arnold and his aunt maintained their composure, their expressions never wavering. The only indication of their inner tension was the slight tensing of their muscles and the heightened awareness in their eyes.
Their thoughts raced, contemplating their next move and the danger that lurked nearby. They continued to engage in polite conversation, all the while being keenly alert to every sound and movement around them.
Then, In a flash; the unthinkable happened. The beautiful woman’s expression turned into an ugly, hallowed ghoulish visage. She tried to strangle Lydia but thankfully, Arnold was quick to act. He twirled his high-silvermere knife and he plunged it deep into the ghost’s neck, she cried as she let out an otherworldly guttural scream that echoed through the field, Then. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the spirit turned and fled, its slender figure darting away with unnatural speed, moving on all fours like a creature straight from a horror movie. The field was eerily silent once again, the only sounds being their heavy breathing and the rustle of the wind through the desolate grass.
Lydia stood there, her breathing ragged from the sudden attack. Arnold was at her side, the knife still in hand. They were both shaken by what had just happened, the adrenaline slowly subsiding as they took in their surroundings.
His aunt broke the silence after a moment, her voice steady but the hint of fear still present. “Well, that was unexpected.”
Arnold nodded silently. The adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. "Yeah, you could say that again," he muttered, trying to regain his composure.
His aunt's eyes scanned the area, her eyes alert for any signs of the wicked spirit returning. "We need to be more careful now,” she murmured, her voice edged with caution. "It's not just harmless spirits we're dealing with here."
Arnold and his aunt; each have their backs. And his aunt was right, The wicked spirit did return to finish them again. This time, she looks more grotesque and ugly, as if her skin had been fried by the burning sun of the Sahara Desert. She lets out a sepulchral scream that resonates through the place like some hellish screams from the underworld, and she is here for blood.
Arnold, as if guided by an unseen hand, quickly and cautiously extended his hand toward the wicked spirit’s heart — unexpectedly, his hand glowed with a golden, pure holy light – as if it the holy light descended from heaven itself. And as he did, He unleashed powerful blasts of light that drove the wicked spirit away.
His aunt, her mouth was agape; extremely surprised at Arnold’s magic — she knew he had it in him but she thought his magic was doormat because he didn’t learn his Virginian heritage enough to conjure such power and pure magic.
Yet, She’d never seen him wield such magic so forcefully, so potentially. He’d always kept his abilities secret to ‘blend in’ as he’d always say.
But now, in this very moment, He had summoned a powerful that left her speechless.
His aunt regarded him with a mixture of awe and pride, her eyes narrowing in contemplative thought. She'd always known he had the innate talent, the lineage steeped in Virginian magic coursing through his veins, yet he'd never fully tapped into its potential. It was as if he'd been holding back his true power, content to keep a low profile of himself instead of embracing the magic that was his heritage.
This, however, was a game-changer. This unbridled display of the light magic was like nothing she'd ever witnessed before.
The evil spirit witnessed Arnold’s powers, yet she was too stubborn to admit defeat or even scurry away. Somehow, she managed to multiply herself; definitely using her ghoulish powers to do that.
Somehow, in this very moment; something deep inside Arnold clicked. He heard a lot of voices inside his mind, telling him to ‘believe’ because he refused to use his Virginian magic. He wanted to blend in with Earthlings.
Believe… Arnold...
Believe! Son of Virginia!
Believe thyself!
Believe!
The Peach-Blond haired man closed his eyes; as if he was quickly contemplating. He had only a few moments to act before the wicked spirit attack.
“I believe!” Arnold declared.
As soon as he said those words, a blinding ray of light came and materialised into golden chains; effortlessly encircling the wicked spirit’s wrists and ankles, she let out a howl of pain at the burning of those divine chains; thrashing and flailing as she tried to break herself free but to no avail.
Meanwhile, Lydia was completely dumbfounded by the scene, Somehow, Arnold awakened his potential as an exorcist.
Then, Arnold’s grey orbs shone with a blinding golden hue. As he chanted the sacred exorcist incantations:
‘Fade and decay.
End this fate.
Shatter these earthly bounds.
let the soul be free.
Heal what had been harmed.
Cleansed what had been stained.
And let the spirit soar free.’
The air cracked with intensity the echoing murmur of ancient, sacred words, and Arnold’s new found holy powers; The unholy presence writhed and flailed even more, its guttural cries intensifying as the divine incantation began to take effect. Within mere moments, the evil spirit was consumed, her form dissolving into nothingness as the purifying glow enveloped her.
Silence descended upon the field once more, the only sound that of their panting breaths and the faint rustling of the wind through the grass.
As the echoes of the chant faded away, a sense of stillness settled over the area. There was no trace of the evil spirit, and the once menacing field seemed oddly tranquil now.
Lydia stood there, her eyes still wide with disbelief, her heart still pounding in her chest. She tried to find words but none came. She shifted her gaze toward Arnold, who now stood there, the once-fiery golden hue in his eyes now fading back to their natural grey shade.
She finally found herself as she glanced at him; her expression warm and grateful. Her voice was slightly shaky. "That was… incredible," she breathed, her voice still hoarse from shock.
Arnold turned to look at her, a hint of surprise in his eyes as if he was surprised himself by what he had done. This time, He grinned at her not downplaying the sheer awe-inspiring nature of his actions. "Just part of the job," he said, his voice still slightly gruff.
Lydia's expression softened, her gaze moving over him, still trying to wrap her mind around the events that had just unfolded. His nonchalant attitude only added to her amazement, the way he had just casually unleashed such extraordinary magic as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Just part of the job," she repeated, her tone tinged with disbelief. "Is that all you have to say?"
Arnold felt his stomach growling, he was starving. “Let’s go, I’m going to make pasta.”
Lydia gave him an ornery smirk. “Ah, Me too, Let’s go champ.”
With that, Together they climbed into the darkened carriage, the heavy doors closing quietly behind them. His aunt's magic stirred, and the vehicle lurched into motion, guided by an invisible force. His aunt used her magic to move the carriage and steer the wheel away from the place.
Arnold looked at the place for one last time, and he saw it it different than when they arrived this time. It is peaceful, filled with tranquillity as if it had been purified from the wicked spirit — actually, It is purified from the wicked spirit.
Then wordlessly, they departed from the place; not looking behind.
I'm going to be honest, this was a good book, but I have some mixed feeling about it. First, this book could've been wayy shorter, and this kind of bleeds into my next point that there are so many filler words. The author is trying to be really poetic and deep but because it's so obvious, it kind of falls flat. It's like they're trying too hard to be a writer. That, and the purpose of the main character just wasn't written out well. "Sam" is the narrator and also the hospital's soul. They're a familiar stranger that lives forever and tells the tales of those they loved. The idea was there, the execution wasn't. I think it would've been better if Sam had been Hope (like Death in The Book Thief). Aside from that though, I really enjoyed this book. The characters we loveable and I was devastated when we lost some of them. I loved each of their personalities and how they all fit together. This was the first book I read on Apple Books, so I highlighted a couple of my favorite quotes:
"Humans have a knack for self destruction. Only those of us who love broken things will ever know why."
"Hope is like waiting for the sun to rise... We don't know if the stars will shine or if the sun will be here tomorrow, but I trust the stars. I trust the sun too."
"The broken heart. You think you will die but you just keep on living day after terrible day."
يبدأ الديناصور البشري حياته كحرباء صغيرة ظريفة الشكل والطبع ، يغلب عليها الهدوء وتبدو عليها ملامح الحكمة ، تنشغل بنفسها وتتلوّن بمحيطها الذي فرضه عليها الديناصورات المعاصرة ،
تتطوّر الحرباء بما اكتسبته من المعرفة لتضيفها إلى البأس فتنمو تمساحًا عتيدًا ذو فكّ فولاذي يسخّره أغلبهم لخدمة الديناصورات في قيادة الجموع لكثرة ما تلوّنوا في حربائيتهم حتى اصطبغوا بصبغتهم ، وآخرون اختلفوا ولكن لا يملكون الجاه الاجتماعي الديناصوري للأسف الشديد ،
لأن الموت رحمة إلهية تنفُق الديناصورات ولأن مقاومة التجديد سمة اجتماعية تبقى توجّهاتهم ، فيكبر التمساح ليصبح ديناصورًا بكل ما تعني الكلمة ، قديم وشرس ومُهيمن ، والنادر منهم من يتخلّص من سطوة أجداده ولو قليلا ،
ولأن مسيرة الحياة أشبه ما تكون بسباق التتابع يُسلّم فيها السابقون الراية للّاحقون فينبغي أن تُؤخذ من الديناصور رايته فهو ثقيل الوزن بطيء الحركة ويُفسد السباق على جميع من هم بعده ،
الدهاء والسموّ ونُبُل الهدف تغلب الكثرة ، للتغلّب على مجتمع الديناصورات لا بُدّ أن تكون باتمانًا حقيقيًّا .
Summary: Life at SHIELD isn’t always missions and seriousness, as a good natured shooting contest between Katie and Clint shows! The question is, as the two dead-shots face off, who will be the winner? Steve has utter faith in his best friend, but will he win the bet?
Either way, both are left contemplating their feelings towards one another and realise they run much deeper than either could ever have imagined them doing.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Warnings: Bad language (no smut, yet, but will be down the line) Bit of angst, two idiots struggling with feelings
March 2013
A shooting contest between two Avengers was always going to draw big attention, so it was hardly surprising, therefore, that SHIELD agents were running a book. Clint was odds on favourite to win, but Steve had so far refused to take part, that is until 10 minutes or so before the contest was supposed to start. He was stood outside the shooting range, eyes focussed on Katie and Clint as they both stood in there, checking their equipment, a crowd steadily gathering behind him.
“I know she’s good, but she really doesn’t stand a chance.” Natasha said as she stood at his side. Her matter-of-fact tone caused something in his chest to stir, the lack of faith everyone bar Evans and Lawson from the lab seemed to be displaying in Katie riled him and he turned to Natasha.
“Twenty bucks says she does it.” he stuck his hand out.
She raised an eyebrow at him, before shaking his hand “Alright Rogers, you’re on.”
His hands returned to his belt buckle and both Katie and Clint signalled they were ready.
Evans went into the room, it was soundproof unless you pushed the button to listen in, which Rumlow did, of course.
"No pushing or shoving of your opponent because that’s just a shitty thing to do…” Evans said, his Texan drawl loud as his hand scratched at his ginger beard “No fancy arrows Hawkeye, just the normal rounds.”
“What’s normal about any of this?” Katie mumbled, earning her a smirk off Clint.
“Perfect kill shots are an extra half-point. 20 minute time limit is in force. If you’re tied on score then we’ll go to the number of kill shots made.” Evans looked at them and they both nodded, Katie licking her lips. “Now. To your starting positions…and…” he held his right hand up, 3 fingers extended “May the odds be ever in your favour…”
Steve had no idea what that was a reference too, but he heard the rest of the people around him snigger. Katie threw her head back in a laugh as Clint mimicked Evan’s hand gesture as the other Sniper left the room.
The two opponents stepped up to the line that marked off the beginning of the course, which was constructed out of crates and various other objects. Katie cracked her neck side to side as Clint tested the tension in the bow string one last time before turning his head to meet Katie’s gaze. She put her gun back into its thigh holster and turned to her old SO.
“May the best woman win…” she said with a smirk, fist bumping him with her right hand as she felt the blood pounding in her ears. Then, with a simultaneous nod, the two of them shot forward.
Steve felt a surge of pride as he watched Katie leaping from obstacle to obstacle, landing shot after shot. After she landed the 4th he heard Natasha hiss through her teeth.
“Ok, so maybe she has a little chance…”
Steve didn’t reply, simply watched, silently willing her on.
As the minutes ticked on, the two continued, both making leaps, dropping into rolls, and ducking behind corners. Katie took another shot, and paused for a split second, if she was counting correctly there were two more to go and 5 minutes left on the clock. She looked up for her next target and saw Clint was blocking her way, knelt down, aiming at his own. Katie knew the sensible thing to do would be to wait, but then she was a Stark, being sensible wasn’t one of her main attributes. With a smirk she re-holstered her gun and sprinted as fast as she could, launching herself forward into a perfect front flip, catapulting right over the top of Clint before she immediately slid onto a knee and brought the handgun back up, aiming at the target.
Outside the room there was a lot of cheering and cat calls at her display of acrobatics.
Katie moved to her final target, back against a large crate, aimed but then missed and Steve closed his eyes- that would cost her.
“Shit!” she exclaimed, doubling over to catch her breath as Clint walked over to her, pulling her into a hug.
“Sharp shooting Nova!” he grinned, ruffling at her hair. Both of them turned as the doors open and a few agents walked in, back slapping them both as Evans collected the targets and went to tally up the points.
“That was impressive!” Steve said, crossing the room smiling “both of you.”
“Not bad Stark.” Nat added, appraisingly
“Thanks.” she said, taking a drink of the bottle of water Clint handed to her. She was red faced, sweating but absolutely thrilled, pumped full of adrenaline. She placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath.
“Ok and we have the results!” Evans said and Clint threw his arm round Katie as hers slid round his waist. “Barton hit each target, giving him 10 plus 4 kill shots, taking him to 12. Stark you missed one giving you 9 and 3 kill shots, taking you to 10.5…”
“Damned it!” Katie groaned, shaking Clint’s hand as the various cheers and complaints went up as people started to cash in their bets.
“You’re fired…” Steve heard a familiar voice say. Spinning round, he saw Fury handing over a fifty to an agent whose name escaped him and Steve bit back a smile. The Director had bet on Katie. That one mistake had been costly.
“Cough up Rogers…” Nat said, holding out her hand. He turned to her, sighing and fished in his pocket for a twenty, handing it to her.
“You bet on me?” Katie looked at him, surprised.
“Course I did, sweetheart.” he said immediately.
“Yeah I didn’t, sorry Stark.” Nat said, taking the twenty off him “Clint’s never lost a challenge yet.”
“He nearly did.” Steve said, looking at his friend proudly before he glanced back at Natasha. “Was worth the bet to see you get so twitchy Romanoff… “
“I wasn’t twitchy…” She said, as Clit looked at her.
“Seriously?” he frowned.
“I’ll admit at one point I thought Stark might have just shaded it…” Nat narrowed her eyes at Steve who simply shrugged, hands dropping to the front of his belt buckle.
“To be fair, there was one point where I thought that too.” Clint smiled, and Katie felt a surge of pride in her chest as he replaced the arrows into his quiver. “Did good Nova, I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks Clint.” she smiled at him.
“So, who fancies a drink?” Barton looked around, clapping his hands together.
“I’m game.” Katie said, emptying her magazine, already stripping down her weapon.
Natasha nodded and then Steve realised they were all looking at him. He hesitated, he really did need to train as he hadn’t had a decent run that morning and he’d be restless all evening otherwise, but after that…why not?
"I gotta work out first but if you tell me where you’re going I'll join you when I'm done.” he said.
“Take a day off!” Nat drawled, examining her nails. He was about to reply but Katie got there first.
“If he doesn’t work out he’s a right crank! And no one likes a Cranky Cap…”
“You know what Stark…” he started but she simply stuck her tongue out at him causing him to roll his eyes, fighting to keep the smile off his face.
“Why don’t we try the new sports bar on the high-street, what’s it called again?” Clint suggested.
“Home Run?” Nat asked.
“Yeah that’s it.” he nodded “Couple of doors down from the Burger joint.”
“I’ll find it.” Steve said as Clint nodded, making for the door, Natasha following. Katie turned to Steve, smiling at him as he surveyed the room.
"You did a good job," he nodded to the obstacle course “Did it take you back to fighting Aliens?”
"Not quite the same, you know? No returning gunfire… no life-or-death stakes… no Captain America cushioning my fall when we got blown out of a bank window," she teased. He laughed, as she started to back up towards the door. "I won't take up your workout time. See you at the bar?"
“You never take up my time, doll.” He smiled back, honestly before he felt the flush rise up his neck. What a dumbass thing to say. “See you later." he nodded.
With that she took her leave, tugging her hair out the ponytail as she left, allowing the gentle waves to cascade down her back.
********
Half an hour or so, after a Katie had showered and changed, the 3 Avengers were making the 20 minute or so walk to the bar downtown.
“You know I still can’t believe I got to within a point and a half of you.” Katie nudged Clint.
“Me neither actually.” Natasha asked “I thought it was gonna be a whitewash.”
“Oh ye of little faith…” Katie said, mock hurt lacing her voice.
“Tell you who did have faith, other than Rogers… Fury.” Nat said grinning.
“Hang on…the boss bet against me?” Clint stopped “Damned.”
“Don’t take it personally…” Katie shrugged as they reached the bar. Clint opened the door to let the girls step in first and then he joined them, looking around at the new surroundings. It was low lit but piled with sports memorabilia which they paused to have a look at on their way to the bar. Drinks purchased, they headed to a plush, leather seated booth and settled down.
They fell into an easy chat, and then the inevitable teasing about Rumlow fancying Katie started up and she groaned. Clint and Nat enjoyed ribbing her about him and she had to admit, he wasn’t subtle to be fair. He’d asked her out 3 times now and she’d politely declined but it didn’t stop her friends from enjoying teasing her about it. Clint and Nat took turns in trying to highlight Rumlow’s more endearing qualities. They managed a sum total of 3 when Clint leaned back in his chair and shrugged.
“I’m out…” he grinned as Katie laughed, raising her glass to her mouth to drain the last of her beer.
“Yeah, he’s not relationship materiel…” Nat shrugged
“But you could just fuck him, get what you need and kick him out before breakfast.” Clint suggested causing Katie to choke down her mouthful of European lager and pick up the beer mat nearest her.
Steve chose that exact moment to walk into the bar. He watched as the beer mat hit Clint straight between the eyes, and Katie threw her head back in pure, unadulterated laughter. Something in his chest stirred as he watched her, that wonderful smile and laugh filling her face. He enjoyed seeing her so relaxed.
“Hey…” he greeted them as they all looked up. “You guys need another drink?”
“Cheers Cap, 3 beers…” Clint motioned round the table and Steve headed off to the bar. Katie watched him go, eye trained on his ass which looked remarkably fine in those dark denims...then, realising what she was doing and who she was with, she let out silent groan as she turned back to see Clint and Nat exchanging a glance, a glance between two people who had just discovered the best secret ever and she knew she’d been caught.
“What?” she shrugged “Girl can look, right?”
Neither of them said anything just kept smirking to themselves in that infuriating way until Steve returned, setting down the 4 pints which he easily held in his hands and slid into the spare seat next to Katie.
“I’m in the mood for another challenge.” Clint leaned forward, his eyebrows raising up and down as he spoke.
“Like what?” Katie folded her arms
“Which one of you…” he said, waving his finger between her and Nat “…can down a pint fastest?”
“That’s not a contest…” Katie looked at Nat, smirking. “We all know it’s me.”
The red head quirked an eyebrow, “I’m game if you are.”
Katie shrugged as Clint chuckled and pounded his hand on the table. “Alright then, Ladies…on your marks…”
As soon as Clint had done counting down Katie raised the glass to her mouth and chugged, draining it in 4 seconds flat before turning it upside down on top of her head. Natasha wasn’t even half way through hers before she groaned and set her glass down, trying to supress a burp.
Steve couldn’t help but look at her, his mouth falling open.
"What?” she laughed, shrugging as the Captain exchanged a look with Clint “I spent 3 years at University, drinking with boys…”
“Yeah well I’ll stick to Vodka…” Nat said, shaking her head “Fancy that as a challenge?”
“Not a chance.” Katie said, “Although Cap could…”
“He could, but he won’t” Steve said sternly shooting her a look “Because it wouldn’t be fair…”
Katie rolled her eyes pouting.
“You do know I’m Russian, right.” Nat said, leaning back “I was practically weaned on the stuff…”
“Yes, I know that, but I can't get drunk." Steve shrugged “my metabolism burns it off too fast.”
“Cap…” Clint sighed, shaking his head “That might just be the saddest thing I have ever heard.”
“Even sadder than when you heard you were shipping off to guard Thor’s hammer?” Nat asked
Clint considered this for a moment “Hmmmm. Maybe the same level of sadness at learning I was about to head to Butt-fuck America for an undefined amount of time, yes.”
Steve choked into his beer. Besides him Katie laughed.
"That's a bit harsh," he said as Clint snorted and shook his head.
"Cap. I'm serious. It was legit in the middle of the fucking desert. Nothing for miles."
“What happened to that one eyed puppy we found?” Katie asked suddenly.
“Err, I took him to some friends.” Clint said “Their kids love him, he’s living the best life.”
Katie and Natasha shared a smile, both understood Friends to mean his family and his own kids.
“Still eating Pizza?” Katie asked.
“Pizza?” Steve asked, frowning. “Who feeds a dog pizza?”
“Well he was a bit like you in that respect. Do anything for a double pepperoni with extra cheese.” Katie nudged him with her elbow
“As long as its New York style…” Steve drained his glass, matter of factly.
“Admit it, you enjoyed it when it took you to Second City” Katie eyed him.
“You been to Seconds?” Clint asked, “Thought you swore you wouldn’t go back after that waiter said he wanted to give you a real slice of Chicago to talk about?”
Natasha snorted “Wish I’d seen that.”
“Trust me…”Clint said, “You don’t. Nova went from zero to full metal jacket in 3 seconds flat. Dragged him over the counter and everything…”
“You didn’t?” Steve glanced at her, although he knew she probably had.
“Look… we had just got back from a week’s stake out in Saudi Arabia…” Katie sighed, shrugging as Clint and Natasha laughed “I was tired and fending off the advances of some greasy, 40 something year old man politely really wasn’t top of my list…”
“Why not? You do it every day to Rumlow” Nat smirked.
At the mention of his name Steve felt his eyes narrow. He hated the way the STRIKE leader blatantly eyed Katie up at every given chance. It was disrespectful.
“Don’t start that again” Katie rolled her eyes.
“He’s not a bad looking guy.” Nat persisted “You could do worse…”
“You like him so much you fuck him!” Katie’s voice was snappy. Romanoff leaned back in her chair, eyeing her over half full glass, smirking.
“Touched a nerve, Stark?”
“No, you’re just talking crap, as usual.” she shot back, standing up. “My round…”
Steve moved so that she could get out and watched her head to the bar.
“Think we need to lay off the whole Rumlow thing…” Clint snorted, turning Nat. “She’s clearly not interested.”
“Tell that to Rumlow” Nat shrugged snorted.
“Well you can’t blame him, she’s a good looking girl.” Clint shrugged
“Yeah but she’s obviously looking for someone a little less…”
“Of an ass hat?” Clint cut in making Steve snort.
“I was gonna say a little more of a gentleman but…if the cap fits…” Nat shrugged and her eyes flashed to Steve and he knew instantly she had aimed that comment at him. Steve sighed and shook his head, shooting her a glare which she shrugged off, in her usual nonchalant way.
But he couldn’t shake it out of his mind. Did she know something he didn’t?
****
A few hours later Clint and Nat decided they’d had enough and left to grab a taxi. When Clint was in town he always stayed with Nat, prompting Steve to wonder if there was anything going on beyond the platonic friendship. He pondered it for a moment, deciding to just ask the question.
“Is there something going on there?” he nodded to the pair as they left.
“No.” Katie said, shaking her head “Absolutely not.”
“How are you so sure?”
“Ok, I’ll tell you, but don’t be pissed I haven’t told you before…” she said, pausing “Clint…he’s married, has 2 kids.”
“What?” Steve choked on his beer.
“They have a place…somewhere, I don’t know exactly but it’s off SHIELD’s books and no one knows bar me, Nat and Fury…”
“Huh…” Steve said, pondering for a moment.
“Look, sorry I didn’t tell you but…”
“It’s ok.” He smiled. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little bit disappointed she hadn’t told him before, but he understood, she was loyal to a fault. “I get it, he’s your friend.”
“Yeah I know but he’s not my best friend…” she batted her eyelids at him.
“Hmmm, stop buttering me up.”
“Has it worked?”
“Yes.” He said, draining his glass and she grinned “Same again?”
They had a couple more before Katie decided she was one pint away from being drunk and Steve found himself a little bit disappointed she wanted to leave. He was enjoying spending the time with her. It felt different to their usual trips out, she’d been more relaxed than he had seen her in a long time, enjoying the gentle touches she made to his arm and leg when she was teasing him.
“You know, you shouldn’t have told Nat you can’t get drunk and whooped her ass at a vodka necking contest.” she said, linking her arm into his as they headed to the taxi rank.
“Now that would have been dishonest” he smirked. “Surely you’re not saying I should use my enhancement to my advantage in such a situation?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” she nodded.
He laughed, sticking his arm out to hail a cab.
“But then you’re a very honest kinda guy…” she said.
“I have my moments” he turned to face her
“Nah ah, you can’t lie for shit!” she grinned at him.
“No, I can’t lie to you for shit, sweetheart” He said, rolling his eyes “You know me too well.”
“Hmmm, true.” she said, nodding in agreement. The car stopped at the curb and Steve opened the door for her.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Steve asked, not particularly happy she was cabbing back alone, it was times like this he wished he had a car. “I can walk back for my bike…”
“I can handle myself…I’m a trained killer remember?” she said, raising her hands and making gun signs at him with her fingers. He shook his head, smiling.
“You’re an idiot.” He snorted a laugh.
“But you love me!” she grinned, standing on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. “g’night soldier.”
“Call me when you’re home.” He instructed “And if I ain’t heard from you in 20…” he raised his voice so the cab driver could hear.
She shook her head, smiling as she climbed into the taxi and waved as it pulled off.
*****
It wasn’t long before she was home. She kicked off her boots, flopped down onto her bed and pulled out her phone, better do as Captain Badass said or knowing him he’d turn up and kick the door in.
“So I’m home Old timer…” she said, when he answered and from his sigh she knew he would be rolling his eyes.
“Less of the old” he said, the clinking of cutlery and plates rattling in the background.
“What you doing?” she asked.
“Making food.”
“You can’t cook.” she snorted.
“Yes I can.”
“So why have you never cooked for me?” she asked indignantly, feeling somewhat annoyed that she always did the cooking for the two of them.
“Because you’re better at it.” He said simply “And I've made you grilled cheese before. And soup. Now drink some water and go to sleep.”
“God you’re so bossy.” she grumbled. “Captain Badass…”
“Someone has to be, you’re a law unto yourself.”
“Yah but admit it, I’m awesome.”
“I know you are, I’ve told you before. But if I say it again will you do what I said?”
“Maybe, probably…definitely maybe” she said, shrugging to herself.
“Then you’re awesome. Goodnight doll.”
“Night Stevie.”
On that he cut the call, placing his phone down on the counter as he thought back over the day, waiting for his food to heat. For the first time in a long time he actually felt completely at ease. Ease with his life both in and out of work.
Up until a few weeks ago it had still felt slightly confusing, and it still did with the STRIKE team sometimes. At first he had been tentative, not trying to step on Rumlow’s toes but that had quickly subsided and the two of them had fallen into a pretty good working relationship. As much as Rumlow could rile him, he knew that the man was good at his job, and Steve was good at his. He was the tactician, Rumlow organised the troops. But sometimes, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Sometimes he feels interest, but it was often coloured by the lingering disillusionment that they were merely humouring him as the blue eyed all American hero he had been painted to be.
But never once had he felt like that with Katie.
And then his apartment seemed to blur in front of him, causing him to realise this went way beyond some daft crush. He was really falling in deep. The heat travelled up his chest into his neck and he felt his palms become sweaty. He dropped his arms to wipe them on his jeans as the fizzy feeling left his body, but stayed by him, swirling around until he could practically hear it. This really, really wouldn’t do. She was his friend, a work colleague…the daughter of one of his friends from the 40s…and then there was Peggy.
Not for the first time Steve delved into the reasons he'd been drawn to Katie, comparing her to Peggy. Both women had strong personalities, an unwavering sense of justice and ethics, a deep well of compassion, loyalty, and the air of authority that put more than one man in his place, including himself. They were both incredibly beautiful, filled with passion, devotion and ambition…
Abandoning his food, his appetite lost completely he threw the remains into the bin and headed into his bedroom, intending to do what he did best when it came to women.
Stick his head in the sand and hope to God it all went away.
Meanwhile, Katie was going through her own bedtime routine, shedding her clothes and pulling on a pair of pyjamas before collapsing into her pillow, thinking about what a good day it had been. She hadn’t disgraced herself at the contest, had a good evening in the pub afterwards, and to top it off Fury and Steve had actually backed her in said contest.
At the thought of Steve she smiled to herself. It was kind of nice to have him looking out for her, even if he was a bossy bastard about drinking water. Which reminded her, she needed some. Heading to the kitchen she grabbed a glass, filled it, and then made her way back to bed, this time snuggling down under the covers.
And it wasn’t just the way he cared, it was the way he was so comfortable with her. The gentle touches to her arm and lower back, the fact he called her doll or sweetheart. The smile that he flashed her that could light up his entire face, and those eyes…those god damned beautiful eyes that could drown her in seconds…
Her stomach was suddenly crawling with those damned butterflies, the same ones she had been feeling on or off around him now since Thanksgiving. And they fluttered from her stomach to her chest. It was getting harder and harder to ignore them now, she had feelings for Captain fucking America. Her dad’s friend, her best friend...
Groaning, she rolled over and shoved her head into the pillows. She was utterly fucked.
