regularsized | (no subject)

(no subject)

Bridget Banner has a couch by the fire, a Stark Industries tablet, and a game of Bejeweled, on which she is focusing with meditative calm.

You might think she wasn't paying any attention to the room around her. You'd be wrong, but you might.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yes, I did mean that as a compliment, or at least as a positive observation."

"He's a gentleman," Steph admits after that confirmation, with the slightest uncomfortable squirm for her phrasing. Though that's really the only word she has to describe the man she met, his manners. "And he didn't seem upset, finding out about me. I can't really imagine him getting mad about anything, if not that."

"Can't say I'm surprised," says Bridget.

Steph smiles, a flicker of expression as friendly as it is automatically polite. America's Sweetheart is rather used to having her name and totally equated with polite, ladylike, demure. It's not insulting, precisely. Just presumptuous.

That smile fades a little as she wonders what it's like for Steve, if it's something he would understand.

"I like Bruce," she says after a moment, unsure. "He's a good man. We're all glad to have him on the team."

"Thanks. I think," she says, very wryly.

She could echo back Bridget's words, make a joke out of it, It's a compliment. And it is a compliment, to Bruce. But complimenting Steve doesn't mean a thing to Steph - they're different people.

She takes another drink from her water and nods to the tablet. "Are you working?"

"Nope. Playing games," she admits with a smile.

"Angry Birds?"

Steph might sound a little hopeful.

She laughs.

"No, Bejeweled. Although I do play Angry Birds."

Steph grins back, a bit shy for her excitement but not enough to abandon the topic. "It was the first thing Tony taught me to do on the tablet computer he gave me. And on the phone. Which I can't make calls on."

"I'm sure Tony considers that a success," Bridget says dryly. "Why make calls when you can play Angry Birds instead?"

"That's exactly what I tell him when he asks why I don't respond to his text messages."

"Well played, Cap. Well played."

She gives a regal little nod from her chair, better than trying to curtsy while seated. "I do my best."

"I haven't been seeing a lot of my world's Captain Rogers," she admits, "since the battle. But I'm going to tentatively conclude that I'd like her sense of humour."

Steph laughs, running a hand over her hair, fingers curling at the base of her ponytail. "There's not a lot of time for pranks on the field, but if your captain's never short-sheeted a bed, I'm disowning him."

"Duly noted. I'll have to ask."

She's also wondering whether or not to correct the pronoun. The hesitation probably shows.

It does. Which means Steph pauses, considers their conversation up to this point.

Then blinks, startled. "Oh. You said 'her.'"

"...Yes I did," Bridget agrees, quirking a wry smile. "It's a little complicated. She prefers 'she' and 'Steve', but she doesn't actually mind 'he', although heaven help you if you call her Stephanie."

There's a really fascinating play of emotions over Steph's face as she absorbs this, all basically summed up in a what the hell sort of confusion.

Though granted, short of being addressed by her rank and title, she's not too fond of 'Stephanie' either.

"But she's... she is a woman?"

Among the many possible answers, she decides to go with, "Yes."

"...okay."

Steph doesn't think of herself as liberal, or open-minded, or especially accepting. But she tries to be these things, at least the latter two. She tries to be a good person. She tries to accept people as they are, not the stereotype they might belong to.

There's the same rush of shame as she realizes it's disgust she's feeling, for this other Rogers who isn't quite the same as her, who confuses the issue of gender.

Steph frowns and looks away. She's not comfortable about that distaste in the first place. The last thing she wants to do is let a teammate know she's judging someone else unfairly.

"It's, um. What do they call it? An interesting multi-verse in here."

"Yes it is," says Bridget.

Oh boy. Now she's extra glad she didn't bring anything up about Tony.

Steph probably would have reacted better to these hints if they referred to someone else, the same way she reacts to a female Dr. Banner better than she reacted to a male Captain Rogers. Or, for a proper parallel, the way it doesn't bother her to hear about a Clint Barton, when she knows Claire.

It's different, when it's different versions of yourself, who all ended up in the same place, with the same honors, and the same team.

Training aside, small talk has never come naturally to Steph and she's struggling with changing the subject now. There's a very awkward silence before she shifts, face blushing pink and both hands wrapped around the water bottle. "I'll, um. I should get out of your way, Dr. Banner."

"If you want to," she says, because while she isn't aching for Steph to get out of her face or anything, she really doesn't see any way to rescue this conversation either.

(no subject)

therighttime - 2012-11-29 17:08 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

regularsized - 2012-11-30 11:57 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only