Blond-haired, blue-eyed, fought in the war, named Steve, lost in a plane crash saving the world from those who would destroy it; it’s amazing how reality comes together to put something familiar in someone’s way, yet it couldn’t be further from a certain memory. Steve Rogers isn’t Steve Trevor, but there’s so much in common and the exhibition doesn’t help the feeling.
Even the quiet tak tak tak of heels on the shiny floor as she moves between exhibits isn’t enough to break Diana from her memories, each image of Steve fighting in the war bringing up memories of another Steve doing the same, enough that she doesn’t notice another man in her path. She’s too busy looking at the centerpiece of the Howling Commandos exhibit, expecting anyone else might do the same, but in this case he isn’t. He’s in front of Bucky, lost in his own thoughts and she clatters into a strong shoulder with a gasp of shock.
He’s quick to turn and catch her in his arms, one hand behind her waist on the smooth fabric of her business suit while the other is around her shoulders, a parody of dipping the lady during a dance. Given the dark hair and blue eyes that parallel someone from his past, it gives Steve a moment to get stuck in his own thoughts as he raises her back upright.
“You okay ma’am?” Even pulling away he keeps his arms outstretched and ready to catch her should she remain unsteady, although he does take a moment to look down and breathe deeply, trying to push old, sad memories away.
“Um. Yes, I’m fine.” She runs her tongue over suddenly dry lips, taking her own time to focus on the moment and brushing her clothes down as if she got dusty. “I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she gestures to the empty exhibit space and the doorway behind her, roped off with far more people at the opening. “It’s…”
“Quiet?” He finally pulls his head back up so he can look at her properly, giving her the chance to see who she’s standing in front of and what he’s wearing, her head coming back to him as he speaks. Even in a shirt and vest rather than uniform, it’s obvious he’s the same imposing figure who’s the focus of the exhibition opening, but surely he should be mingling with the public?
“Yes. It is.” Diana glances at the exhibit to her side, then back at the doorway again before focusing on Steve. “You’re… shouldn’t you be,” she gestures toward the throng of people behind the rope and half turns as if to make her own way back.
“Mixing with the richy rich and politicians who’d just parade me around like some trophy to be shown off?” That pulls a smile and a chuckle from her as she turns back. “No thanks, I’ve done my time as a dancing monkey.” This time it’s Steve who gestures, towards an exhibit showing his time selling war bonds in the ear-winged and classic-shielded uniform he first wore, the waxworks set up with him punching Hitler.
“Ah. I understand.” She can’t help but smile and turn away, bringing a hand up to her mouth to hide it; the thought of her Steve dressed up as a monkey clanging cymbals together in her head is too strong and she lets out another chuckle. She starts to turn as if heading back. “Perhaps I should lea—”
“Stay. I should head back before Tony comes to look for me.” As if by magic, a certain face shows up at the doorway looking in expectantly. “Enjoy the exhibition. And the quiet. You look like you could do with a rest from the throng.” Same as him, he thinks. “Oh, I’m Steve,” he says as he takes her hand and lifts it towards his bowing head for an air-kiss just above her knuckles. Whether he knows she’s a Princess or not isn’t something he’s sharing, but given everyone at the event is someone ‘special’ or a politician, he’s assuming the former. “But I’m guessing you already knew that.”
“Diana,” she’s surprised at his action, but doesn’t pull away or follow when he steps away to intercept Stark, the smile remaining on her lips. “A pleasure,” she calls after him, not expecting to run into anyone when she escaped from the noise.
I wonder if I’ll run into him again.