[He's coming back from a patrol - his last of the night - when she calls to him from the rooftop. Rather than reply verbally he waves and with a brief, considering glance at the building takes a running jump to scale it. He moves with quick efficiency and reaches the top in scarce seconds.]
Cass. Hey.
[His tone is full of warmth and he smiles when he sees the tin - glad to see she got it. He holds out an arm for a hug, knowing she'll read the intent of it in his body language and leaving it up to her to accept it. Steve doesn't touch people voluntarily very often ouside of sparring.]
[There's no getting around the fact that when she sees those things in his body language, the fact that the peaches were from him and he's willing to give her a hug, her face lights up like she's been given the greatest present in the world. She's crossing over to him in an instant, more than happy to put her arms around him and take full advantage of his offer.
Barely friends a week and he's spoiling her already. It's more than she feels she deserves, but she doesn't feel guilty accepting.]
Good patrol? [Now that he knows about her body reading, she doesn't bother hiding it.] Find anything interesting?
[He knows she isn't fragile, but the way she'd been raised he couldn't condone using force against her in any respect - sparring, maybe, but this? No. He loops an arm around her shoulders, very gently. He's a man who is hyper-conscious of his strength, and what can be done with it.]
[She relaxes into him as easily as she would if they had been the best of friends for years, chin resting on his chest as she looks up at him with a faint frown.]
Bored. Used to more fighting. Used to... very busy patrol, not... lotta the same.
[Him too. SHIELD never gave him a lot of down-time between missions, which suited him just fine. Kept him busy. Kept him restless, and from putting down roots in a world he wasn't sure he liked much.
Now? He's just tired.]
If you ever need a sparring partner, I'm sure you've got a few things to teach me.
[The statement is the tiniest bit playful, but not teasing. He means it genuinely. He's decent at reading body language and intent in people's blows, but he's nowhere near as good at it as she is. As she's had to be.]
[She rolls her shoulders as they put distance between them, studying his body and sizing him up. He's obviously got the height on her, possibly the strength. Probably the strength, even if she could easily lift him over her head if she wanted to. There's more to him than human strength and there's something very exciting about that.]
[He, in turn, studies the terrain. He doesn't do a lot of rooftop fighting - most of his urban warfare is done on the ground - but there are things here that could be to his advantage. Or against, he supposes, and there's nowhere to use his shield.
But then, he wouldn't use it with her anyway. He unslings it, flips it over in his hands and then sets it down by a wall as he mulls over what to say. Finally,]
The way I fight for my life and the way I spar with my friends are two different things. The former-- isn't anything I'd ever wish on anyone I care about.
[Steve's combat is hard and brutal, he's forgotten how to fight without anger. Every blow he lands in a real fight is meant to disable or kill outright.]
[A thrill of hope goes through her, but it's tempered by the fact that she could hold a mirror up and see the same things in herself that she's seeing in Steve right now. It seems best to say that out loud, so she frowns to herself and tries to find the right words for it.]
When I fight, it's with... half, maybe. Maybe less. If I don't hold back? Will kill opponent without trying. I can turn it off. You can, too. Just have to practice.
[He's honestly not sure he wants to let loose on anyone, but he nods at her and shifts his stance into something combat-oriented. He doesn't give her a heads up that he's about to attack, he just does it, trusting her.
Used to be, Steve would have never hit a woman. It almost got him killed once, and Natasha drilled with him for days afterwards until he was sore and bruised and she'd made her point.
Now? He knows better. The gentleman in him still shies away from it, he prefers to fight defensively against women, but he closes his eyes and lets all of that go, for Cass. He's quick and graceful, fearlessness sings in him like a war song, and when he strikes out at her it's direct and powerful, aiming for her solar plexus. There's a little of you can't hurt me either in his body language, and trailing in the shadow of that revelation is, I heal.]
Edited (phrasing tweak AND AGAIN I shouldn't tag when I'm tired I'm sorry omg) 4/11/14 10:53 (UTC)
[The moment his body resolves itself to this sparring match, it tells a story. She learns his training, his opinions on violence in general, not just towards women. She learns his power on a more intimate scale, not just seeing it like she had before but feeling it, experiencing it for herself and feeling a thrill at the discovery of a new, competent partner, but something about it makes her sad as well.
How long has he felt isolated, alone? It's all through him as his fist comes closer, as she takes his wrist and guides his punch past her so that it doesn't connect. Her grip on him is oddly gentle, more of a suggestion to move than forcing it, guiding the momentum instead of pulling him where she wants him.
Her other hand strikes out, the force of it pulled but not the speed, and she aims it directly at his jaw. If it connects, it will daze him but he'll stay on his feet. Nothing will break, but she'll get a sense of exactly what his body can take. If he blocks, which she thinks he may be able to despite how large he is, she'll see how much power he can put into it, how much strength comes from the very core of him.
Either way, she's happy. Her eyes are attentive to his body and the movements he makes, the things he tells her wordlessly, but she's smiling softly as she strikes at him. This is her world, this is her language. Of course she'll smile when all she has to think about is movement.]
[He thinks of tai chi, the movements and motions like water, and when she guides his strike he doesn't resist. There's no point, even if he could overpower her it's just an unnecessary energy expenditure for both of them. It's been a long time since a fight has forced him to be flexible rather than rely on crushing force, but he always has liked a challenge.
When she strikes out at him, he mimics her, his deflection isn't a powerful blow but a redirection. His initial strike had been with his left, the deflection with his right, and time seems to be too-slow around them. An adrenaline rush.
He steps in close, not under her guard but sort of through it, and tries to shoulder-check her to the ground. He's hyper-aware of each move she makes, nowhere near her level of sophisticated understanding but certainly with all the hallmarks of a man ready and willing to learn.]
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4/11/14 08:26 (UTC)Cass. Hey.
[His tone is full of warmth and he smiles when he sees the tin - glad to see she got it. He holds out an arm for a hug, knowing she'll read the intent of it in his body language and leaving it up to her to accept it. Steve doesn't touch people voluntarily very often ouside of sparring.]
(no subject)
4/11/14 08:37 (UTC)Barely friends a week and he's spoiling her already. It's more than she feels she deserves, but she doesn't feel guilty accepting.]
Good patrol? [Now that he knows about her body reading, she doesn't bother hiding it.] Find anything interesting?
(no subject)
4/11/14 08:40 (UTC)A whole lotta the same.
[ie: 'nothing'.]
How've you been?
(no subject)
4/11/14 08:43 (UTC)Bored. Used to more fighting. Used to... very busy patrol, not... lotta the same.
(no subject)
4/11/14 08:46 (UTC)Now? He's just tired.]
If you ever need a sparring partner, I'm sure you've got a few things to teach me.
[The statement is the tiniest bit playful, but not teasing. He means it genuinely. He's decent at reading body language and intent in people's blows, but he's nowhere near as good at it as she is. As she's had to be.]
(no subject)
4/11/14 08:49 (UTC)Can you keep up?
(no subject)
4/11/14 08:52 (UTC)[He hasn't seen her fight, of course, but he's got a hunch about her abilities. He cards a hand through her hair with great care and then steps away.
With a hint of that old kid from Brooklyn,]
Wanna find out?
(no subject)
4/11/14 09:02 (UTC)[She rolls her shoulders as they put distance between them, studying his body and sizing him up. He's obviously got the height on her, possibly the strength. Probably the strength, even if she could easily lift him over her head if she wanted to. There's more to him than human strength and there's something very exciting about that.]
You can't hurt me. Don't hold back.
(no subject)
4/11/14 09:11 (UTC)But then, he wouldn't use it with her anyway. He unslings it, flips it over in his hands and then sets it down by a wall as he mulls over what to say. Finally,]
The way I fight for my life and the way I spar with my friends are two different things. The former-- isn't anything I'd ever wish on anyone I care about.
[Steve's combat is hard and brutal, he's forgotten how to fight without anger. Every blow he lands in a real fight is meant to disable or kill outright.]
I'm not sure I can turn that off.
(no subject)
4/11/14 09:44 (UTC)When I fight, it's with... half, maybe. Maybe less. If I don't hold back? Will kill opponent without trying. I can turn it off. You can, too. Just have to practice.
(no subject)
4/11/14 09:56 (UTC)No time like the present, right?
[He's honestly not sure he wants to let loose on anyone, but he nods at her and shifts his stance into something combat-oriented. He doesn't give her a heads up that he's about to attack, he just does it, trusting her.
Used to be, Steve would have never hit a woman. It almost got him killed once, and Natasha drilled with him for days afterwards until he was sore and bruised and she'd made her point.
Now? He knows better. The gentleman in him still shies away from it, he prefers to fight defensively against women, but he closes his eyes and lets all of that go, for Cass. He's quick and graceful, fearlessness sings in him like a war song, and when he strikes out at her it's direct and powerful, aiming for her solar plexus. There's a little of you can't hurt me either in his body language, and trailing in the shadow of that revelation is, I heal.]
(no subject)
7/11/14 22:52 (UTC)How long has he felt isolated, alone? It's all through him as his fist comes closer, as she takes his wrist and guides his punch past her so that it doesn't connect. Her grip on him is oddly gentle, more of a suggestion to move than forcing it, guiding the momentum instead of pulling him where she wants him.
Her other hand strikes out, the force of it pulled but not the speed, and she aims it directly at his jaw. If it connects, it will daze him but he'll stay on his feet. Nothing will break, but she'll get a sense of exactly what his body can take. If he blocks, which she thinks he may be able to despite how large he is, she'll see how much power he can put into it, how much strength comes from the very core of him.
Either way, she's happy. Her eyes are attentive to his body and the movements he makes, the things he tells her wordlessly, but she's smiling softly as she strikes at him. This is her world, this is her language. Of course she'll smile when all she has to think about is movement.]
(no subject)
8/11/14 20:17 (UTC)When she strikes out at him, he mimics her, his deflection isn't a powerful blow but a redirection. His initial strike had been with his left, the deflection with his right, and time seems to be too-slow around them. An adrenaline rush.
He steps in close, not under her guard but sort of through it, and tries to shoulder-check her to the ground. He's hyper-aware of each move she makes, nowhere near her level of sophisticated understanding but certainly with all the hallmarks of a man ready and willing to learn.]