Thinking Of Those Eyes And Thick Thighs

The emerald rolling Rutshire hills gleamed under the setting sun ending a rare day unmarred by clouds in the blue sky. Weather forecasters for once would be able to predict the British weather and state without absolute certainty there were no storms on the horizon. Except at Penscombe Court.

Rupert stood at his window overlooking the grounds of his estate trying to quell the maelstrom of emotions that he was feeling. All centered around her. Taggie. 

How my poor heart aches.

If he closed his eyes Rupert thought of that night at the O’Hara’s. Going into the kitchen for wine. Seeing Taggie. Apologising for his mocking comment about her dating Seb.

‘Only he’s not you.’

‘But she’s not you.’

Wanting to hold Taggie tightly in fear that it was a dream but instead holding her reverently because of what she meant to him.

‘I can’t breathe without you.’

Fighting the urge to devour her like he was starving yet the languid kisses were unlike anything he’d shared before. Rather than becoming impassioned by each brush of her lips or the quiet noises she made Rupert felt himself revitalised as if a forgotten part of him was discovered anew.

For a short while he had truly believed that everything could somehow work out. That Venturer would beat Corinium. Tony Baddingham would be bested. Brave Declan O’Hara’s inevitable ire together. As long as he had Taggie.

But reality tore his hopes to pieces. Rupert could see no escape from the situation he was now in. His eyes found the Priory and he wondered if Taggie was still in the kitchen. Maybe she had gone to bed. Even as he wished she might dream of him he knew it would do no good for either of them now.

The bar grew quieter, some patrons huddled into their booths while you leaned against the bar watching your friends continue to knock back their drinks.

”All right everyone we’re closing up! You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here!”

Groans of disappointment turned into bickering as the group tried to decide where to go next. Meanwhile the literal killer heels you wore murdered your feet and all you wanted was to head home. An option that was met with boos and being pelted with wadded up napkins.

“Nothin' happens after two!”

The declaration was met with a couple of “it's true, it's true.”

”Actually… A friend of a friend said nothing ‘good’ happens after two AM.”

A flurry of protests answered the hypothesis. Though you certainly weren’t protesting at the sight of the handsome stranger.

”Is that so?”

“Apparently.” He shrugged and took a sip of his drink before tilting the glass in your direction. “What do you think?”

“I admit I’m curious about the premise. What’s the limit for something ‘good’”?

“You ok?”

“Yeah. Um. It’s just… I thought you were taking me to my room?”

“This is your room.” Biting your lip you held back a giggle at the incredulous look on Peter’s face as he took in what was essentially his own apartment within the space of the compound. “At the old Avengers Tower Tony designed everyone’s living quarters but forgot crucial things like kitchen space. Six people with varying tastes sharing one kitchen? Disaster.”

“So I can eat here?”

“Yep. When there’s team dinners Tony asks for cooking volunteers. Personally I think he does it to see if anyone is a worse cook than him.” At Peter’s raised brow you shook your head. “Don’t ask.”

“Are there any rules? I know Mister Stark is-”

“You can call him Tony. You won’t be demoted.” Peter nodded. “Keep the place tidy. Show up for training. Don’t steal Thor’s pop tarts. Avoid vent entrances, Clint pops out like a jack in the box. And be aware of your surroundings. Steve caused quite a few dented walls and broken doors at the Tower. Bucky’s even worse. It’s why Tony designed this place with open spaces in mind.”

Peter nodded and explored some of the features of the room including adjustable lighting, tinted windows and easy access to FRIDAY. He pushed a button and AC/DC began playing loudly.

“Ah Tony’s mantra - ‘With a bit of rock music everything is fine’”.

“Oh I love Led Zeppelin!”

“FRIDAY please delete any record of Mister Parker’s last comment.”

“Certainly. Shall I make a protocol to correct Mister Parker for similar future events?”

“The fate of the planet rode on the crew of Icarus II. Either they would succeed and save humanity or we would have perished. And then one day the people of Earth woke to find the sun burning brighter than ever before. Icarus II had succeeded though not without hardships and loss.”

A lump formed in your throat as you proudly watched your child read out a report for class.

“I’ve spoken to a lot of people. Some knew the Earth before it froze while others were born during the new ice age. Kids who had never seen the ocean move or a flower grow outside. Had never once felt the rays of the sun warm their skin. And if we stop to gaze upon a star.” A sniffle and a deep breath filled the quiet room. “We can stand outside and see them clearly. Almost as clearly as Icarus II was able.” The crew members and their roles were explained until one remained. “Space Engineer James Mace. To everyone else he’s a hero. But to me he’s something even greater. My Dad. And one day I hope I can make him proud.”

Heart swelling you clapped with the rest of the crowd. “I hope you heard that James. Our child wants to make you proud” you murmured.

You started when a hand caught yours and squeezed gently. Mace’s blue eyes were warm with love and pride for his child who gave a little wave from the stage.

“Mission Accomplished.”

A/N 3 - I very nearly went down the angst route till I realized what day it was. Happy birthday to Chris Evans who brought amazing characters to life!

Frank was sprawled facedown on the sofa almost as if he’d been carelessly thrown over it like a jacket. One side of his body balanced precariously on the cushions while the other half dangled off the couch along with his head. An almost depleted bottle of alcohol sat on the table.

As you watched the man you loved the man your throat tightened and warmth filled your face. Blinking you hurried into the bedroom pulling a suitcase from on top of the closet and threw it on the bed before starting to grab your possessions. While you packed, tears blurred your vision as you dialed a number you knew all too well.

”Hey. Are you ok?” The soft lilting voice of Frank's best friend Jack. His concern caused your tears to spill over and you sniffled. “What’s happened? Police? Hospital? Talk to me sweetie.”

“I - I’m leaving. I can’t do this anymore.” 

“Do you need anything?” The fact that Jack asked that instead of trying to reason spoke volumes. 

“Check on him tomorrow?”

Jack promised to do so before saying to call if you needed help. Murmuring goodbye you ended the call and checked the room again. Quietly you crept back through the apartment and reached the front door. 

“What y’doin?”

The slur revealed that Frank was going back to his old habits. Despite your pleas.

”I’m leaving.”

”Wha-?” Frank sluggishly moved to sit up blue eyes bloodshot and unfocused. “Why?”

“Do I really need to say it?”

”Don’t. Just don’t. Stay. I can change.” His voice wobbled when you shook your head. “I love you.”