infinite1ups | Dinner (@americanass)

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Dinner (@americanass)

It was a good thing Claire didn't have any work to do that was terribly important, because she'd spent most of the day distracted thinking about the night before. Confessing her feelings for Steve had been on her mind for weeks, and she could never figure out the right time to go there. Maybe it had been her vulnerability after the nightmare, maybe not, but last night apparently was the time. Whether it was the right time, she still wasn't sure.

Neither could she gauge how Steve seemed to feel about the whole thing, as she hadn't had much opportunity to see him, much less talk to him. They both seemed to be busy, though she hadn't forgotten his offer of dinner that night. Just dinner, no mention of a date, not that she'd really expected that. They both needed time to sort this out, maybe sitting down to talk over dinner would help, especially after each took their time to think it over privately that day. She imagined he was thinking it over now, even if he hadn't considered it before.

As the afternoon inched closer to evening, she considered dinner plans. Claire knew her impulsive nature was influencing her now, but she couldn't help wanting to do something nice. Not a date. She wasn't going to go all out, just prepare a little something for the two of them. It was easy enough see him in passing, to request that he meet her in the dining room around six. And then she got to work.

Claire held herself to some semblance of playing it cool, of not trying to prepare anything too extravagant or that might give the impression that it was a date. No, it was just dinner. A simple pasta dish, a salad. No wine, that would... imply things, and it wouldn't do either of them much good anyway. At least, she thought she recalled that Steve's alcohol tolerance was on a level with hers.

Once the table was set, all she had left do was, well. Wait. He'd probably be on time, she guessed, but she was growing too nervous to check the time. Of course he'd show up, right?

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A hint of color rose in Steve’s cheeks at her compliment. There was no protesting that he hadn’t wanted her to notice, that she was exactly the reason he’d wanted to look a little sharper than usual. He normally dressed well, usually preferred slacks and button downs to jeans, though he recognized that was mostly just him being old fashioned. One of the few ways he’d held onto, always wound up going back to.

“So do you,” he noted with a vague gesture toward her. “Look nice, I mean. I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything but a t-shirt before.” Or if he had, he hadn’t been paying attention. That seemed entirely likely with how firmly the line between friend and colleague and anything else had been drawn. Chances were good he just hadn’t let himself give what she was wearing a second thought, because he’d barely allowed himself to give her attractiveness a first thought.

“Guess maybe if we were both going to put the effort in, we could’ve gone out after all.” He said it as a joke, with a smile, knowing that going out was a step too far too quick. Steve being who he was drew attention, and they at least needed to be on the same page before they were seen together even just by the team, forget the public.

Maybe next time. Steve was definitely planning on, at least hoping for, a next time already.

She'd been wearing t-shirts more often than not lately, so there hadn't been much to notice. As busy as she'd been with working and training, she didn't have many opportunities to dress up lately. This was a good chance for that, and she couldn't help a little blush of her own that Steve had noticed.

It hadn't crossed Claire's mind before to really dress up to show off around Steve, given that he'd always kept things so professional and appropriate between them. But now... maybe she did want him to notice her, and it seemed he was.

"Maybe next time," she joked in return, knowing that it might be a bit before they worked up to public appearances. She'd been spotted with Steve and the team casually, but it wasn't anything that would garner too much attention. Of course, plenty of folks in the public remembered her from the Sullivan Carnival, when she'd revealed her regeneration to the world.

Claire knew to ignore the press now, where before she'd tried to give interviews and control the narrative. She didn't think it was worth the effort now, people would just think what they wanted anyway. With Steve, though, she wanted to be more careful. As eager as she was to figure out how they fit together as more than friends and colleagues, she was content to keep it all private for as long as possible. They both deserved to be able to have this for themselves, no matter what happened between them.

"I appreciate these quiet nights in. Plus, I do like having an excuse to cook." And, maybe, she liked the idea of having him all to herself. Her favorite times were those late night hours when it was just the two of them, after all. Claire grinned, almost teasing. "I should've made dessert."

The joke was an easy one but it still filled Steve with warmth that she was willing to even entertain a next time. That was a good sign. That they were already getting toward wanting the same thing and it was just a question of how much more of it they both wanted.

He knew where he stood. The rest they could talk about. Maybe after eating. With a metabolism like his, that usually came first.

“I didn’t realize you actually liked cooking,” he noted. He’d known she could, just always assumed it was something she, like most people, did because it was necessary. And he’d known she was pretty good at it. Better than him by far, not that that was a difficult thing to be. Steve wasn’t a chef by any means. “Everyone else around here does it because they have to.”

Or didn’t at all and just ordered in a lot. Steve tended toward the latter now that it was an option.

"Oh, yeah. I love cooking. I'm more of a baker, but really anything in the kitchen. My mom used to let me help her, guess it kinda stuck." And plus it tied in with her caregiving tendencies and her desire to comfort people, especially her friends.

Claire found it sort of exciting that even though they'd gotten so close, there was still plenty to learn about each other. She was looking forward to that, so of course she wanted more dates, and time spent with Steve in general.

The food was pretty good, too, and she was proud of the meal considering she'd basically just thrown it together with ingredients on hand.

"You'll have to tell me some of your favorites so I can cook 'em for you," she suggested. Nothing would make her happier, in all honesty.

"Now baking, I knew." That much he'd realized about her. But he knew that they weren't exactly the same thing. That one was a lot more precise and one was a lot more artful flair, and he knew that neither were really in his wheelhouse.

"As for favorites, though, I'm not sure I'll be able to tell you anything." He didn't tend toward much in the way of likes or dislikes when it came to food, had never had much of a chance to develop them growing up when he'd just been lucky to have enough to eat, and a lot of food was different than what he remembered. Things had changed. "But I guess I still just like all the old fashioned stuff. Give me a slice of meatloaf or shepherd's pie and I'm happy."

Which wasn't to say he didn't like the new stuff, too. Just that if two options were placed in front of him, familiarity and maybe a bit of nostalgia won out more often than not. Even more so the further removed from his old life that he got. There were parts he just couldn't cut himself off from and the further they got the more risk of losing that part of him there was.

Her love of baking had probably been more obvious; she liked leaving out plates of cookies or other treats for the team to help themselves to. No doubt Steve had sampled plenty of her recipes by now.

Claire listened thoughtfully as he explained, having a few more bites of pasta. It always interested her to hear more about Steve's life, and this was no exception. She set her fork down for a drink of water, then nodded.

"I've never made shepherd's pie, but I bet I could. I like that kind of stuff, too. Like, home-cooking? My mom cooked like that - her meatloaf is the best I've ever had, actually," she said proudly. She'd have to call Sandra for that recipe, and it was about time she caught up with her mother, anyway.

"I like cooking for other people the best, 'cause I always make too much when it's just for myself. So I like sharing, especially with my friends."

“Is that what we’re doing here? Sharing with friends?” He’d meant to let them finish eating first, meant to just chat and be exactly that, just friends, at least that long. But she’s opened the door, probably without meaning to, and he wasn’t going to just leave it waiting. He’d decided to jump in head first.

And the moment to do it was there.

So of course he was going to take it.

Because the truth of it was that he was dying to know the answer. He was itching to know what the path ahead looked like. Maybe he didn’t need every single detail, but he needed to know, if nothing else, if a day of cooling off had ended in Claire still wanting everything she’d been offering in the small hours of the morning. If she’d changed her mind about everything.

Steve didn’t have the impression she had, but there was no use in the two of them dancing around in maybes when they could just talk about it like a couple of adults.

She also had expected them to talk about it after dinner, but why wait? Now was as good a time as any. Maybe it was better to get it out of the way.

"I mean, yeah? But it's also more than that." Claire can't help but smile, huffing a quiet laugh. "I wasn't sure if I should call it a date."

The nice meal she cooked, the way they had dressed up kind of said it for them. It looked like a date, felt like one, too. If it swam like a duck and quacked like a duck...

"I want it to be a date. Everything I said this morning, I meant it, and having the day to think it over helped me make sure of that."

As sure as she was that morning, she knew she had a tendency to be impulsive. Taking the extra time to sort out her feelings on her own made her realize she wasn't being as reckless with Steve as with so many other things in her life. If anything, she was more careful with her heart and her feelings than with her physical safety, and now was no exception.

She'd made a move because she felt safe to do so, even if Steve didn't feel the same way. But, she had to hope, it was looking more and more like he did.

Steve let out a relieved breath, shifting a little in his seat so that he could easily reach across the table and catch her hand in his.

“You have no idea how glad I am that you feel that way.” The curious expression on his face brightened to a smile. “Because that’s what I’ve been thinking all day. Well, that and that I hope I didn’t ruin the chances of doing something about it by saying we should think about things.”

He’d had his reasons, and they were still good ones, but he couldn’t have blamed her if she’d said things were all just a moment. If he’d knocked everything off course because he needed to be noble. Because he’d second guessed his own intentions. Which he had, and it was for the best no matter which way things shook out.

Steve really did think Claire deserved better than a guy just playing games with her, even if that guy was him. And even if his body urged him to make the dumb move regardless of his brain.

Claire beamed back at him, squeezing his hand. She was feeling a little relieved, too. More than a little, actually. Even if she hadn't doubted his feelings that much, it was still nice to have it confirmed.

"No, you didn't ruin anything. I'm actually kind of glad we waited? You were right, this morning. We owe it to ourselves to do this... right, you know?"

It was a succinct reminder that sometimes a little patience was a good thing, and necessary. Sure, she wouldn't have regretted anything that happened with Steve had they continued the way they were going that morning, but ultimately she thought they both made the better choice.

"I'm just- I'm so happy you feel the same way," Claire said, grinning brightly. Her grin quickly turned a little bit cheeky and teasing. "I don't think I've ever been so glad to take anything slow. But you're worth it."

Steve gave a surprised laugh, shaking his head. At no point had he thought about himself in this. Not beyond the immediate wanting anyway. Every concern and hesitation had been about her and what she deserved. He wasn’t the one worth it, in his eyes.

“If we’re on the same page, I don’t know about slow,” he admitted instead of the self-deprecation he knew she wouldn’t allow him. “Took everything I had to stop when we weren’t.”

The next time he found himself sitting on her bed and kissing the daylights out of her, he was going to end up staying there and probably doing a bit more than kissing. No doubting he’d want to. Just being able to touch her like that, to reach across and hold her hand and have her hold his back, was all of his passing fantasies come true. That alone was more than he could have dreamed of asking for.

But there it was on offer and he was going to take and enjoy every second of it.

“But,” he was quick to add, because it was important to him, “if you want to take the long way, I’m prepared to try out patience for a change.” Because wanting her didn’t equate to pressure.

"We don't have to be so patient now that we're on the same page, no," Claire said innocently. This morning, and all day today, had been plenty of restraint for the both of them. But now they'd established they wanted the same thing; the proverbial caution lights flashed to green. Go.

She brushed her thumb along the back of Steve's hand, over his knuckles. It was nice to just touch him like that, freely and affectionately, like she'd had the urge to do so many times.

"I don't think either of us are really built for patience," she teased. But that morning had proved they could show some caution when it truly mattered. Claire knew she never had to be afraid to slow things down if it became necessary, that she could trust Steve to listen and take her concerns seriously, if she ever had any.

Now, though? She felt lighter than ever. Her smile seemed permanent. It was better than a dream, because she knew it was real. Her free hand came up to rest her chin upon it as she sighed out a laugh.

"Maybe it's a good thing I didn't bake anything. I can't stop thinking about kissing you - I don't think I'd make it through dessert."

It really did sound like they were on the same page. Steve looked at her and he saw the brightness in her smile and he saw the affection in her eyes, and he didn't doubt, not really, that she held a genuine affection for him. And he couldn't have been happier in the moment for that. Once he'd let himself think about it, and think about it as an actual possibility, being with Claire was what he wanted.

And worth actually taking something for himself for a change.

"I don't think I could, either," he agreed. Making it through dinner was questionable, even though he knew there were still things they should talk about. Things like what their intentions with one another were. It was important they really were on the same page. Completely. "But I think we an manage a few more minutes to finish this."

With an easy smile he reluctantly withdrew his hand from hers and gestured to the food in front of them. No matter what he wanted, she'd gone through the effort and he appreciated that. Wouldn't let it go to waste. "And you can tell me what you want from whatever this thing between us is going to be."

Intention mattered.

She was equally as reluctant to pull away, but she had cooked a pretty good meal, so she was glad to finish eating it. Just as she was happy to see that Steve seemed impressed with her cooking.

But that question caught Claire off guard, even as she understood why he was asking. It was hard to put it into words. At least, words that didn't make her sound too... eager.

So she took a bite while she thought about it, not trying to stall for any bad reasons, just giving herself a moment before she said something stupid. Then she was ready to answer.

"I don't want to get too ahead of myself or anything," Claire began, choosing her words carefully. "I mostly hope we can be happy together, you know? You're really important to me. And whatever this is gonna be between us, however it evolves, I want it to last."

That felt like a balance between 'serious' and 'no pressure', she thought. Which was essentially what Claire was going for. Even if things didn't work out romantically, she never wanted to lose Steve's friendship.

“So we’re serious about this. With this.” And that was the part that Steve really cared about, really wanted to know. If it was just satisfying the need to explore something, keeping things light and easy and casual, that was different. And Steve wasn’t on the light and easy page.

He didn’t do casual.

He did all or nothing in all things. He jumped in head first, let down all his walls, and gave himself over when he was interested in someone, tended even to just leap right past interest and the getting to know her stage and into giving his heart over. He knew that about himself.

He knew it had wound up in him being hurt in the past. And he knew he saw too much of himself in Claire to risk doing it if she wasn’t looking for the same things he was.

"I'm serious," Claire said, quiet but firm. She couldn't toe the line, she had to step over. Leap over. Now she was playing for keeps.

In most other things she was all or nothing, but she played it safer with her feelings. Heartbreak and mental turmoil weren't healed by her regeneration, after all. If she couldn't trust Steve to be careful with her, though, then who could she trust?

"I want this. I want us."

There it was, fully out in the open. Ready for them to take it... anywhere, really. Anywhere, as long as they were together. Claire had always worried about dragging people into the dangerous maelstrom that her life could be at times and Steve probably had the same concerns. She felt a sense of relief knowing they were each equipped to take on the risks.

High risk, high reward. He already made her happy, just being her friend. But crossing that line into more? As much as she'd been trying not to get ahead of herself, when she let herself imagine the possibilities, she wanted it more than anything.

Claire had felt a little tense for a minute there, but a smile finally broke through. Bright, optimistic. "We're really doing this?"

The assurance that she was taking things seriously was enough, and Steve met her smile just as brightly, just as full of hope. For so many years he’d thought feelings like this were lost to him. That he’d lost his chance at anything like falling for someone again. Steve had thought he’d had the love of his life, that he’d never recover the loss of her, and maybe some parts of that were true.

Just not the part where he’d never feel that way for anyone again.

Because new as it was, uncertain as it still was, it could be a lot more. He was looking forward to it being a lot more. He wanted to just open himself up again, to her and only to her. There was no one else he wanted, and no one else he felt safe enough with. Claire was special. And even before he’d so much as noticed her as more than a protege, he’d noticed that she understood him in ways no one else did.
Maybe that was what had cracked the door to allow the fleeting fantasies.

“We’re doing this,” he agreed, simple as that. They both wanted it, they both wanted it to be more serious than just a fling, and so that was that. They were doing it.

Beneath the table, his foot gave hers a playful tap and he added firmly: “After dinner.”

Too many times before, she'd cut herself off emotionally. She was afraid to get too close, knowing that her life could be tumultuous and dangerous at times, knowing that those she loved often ended up with a target on their backs.

For once, Claire was going to accept the risks. Steve knew what he was getting into as well as she did; they both faced these dangers alone, already. They'd be even stronger together.

She laughed as his foot tapped against hers, her smile brightening even more. Her plate was nearly cleared by then, but she was still eating slowly.

"I meant you and me in general," Claire pointed out with a happy sigh. It felt a bit like a dream. "But I'm looking forward to after dinner, too. Suppose I ought to clean up these dishes when we're done, before I get too... distracted."

Her cheeks grew warm at that thought. As much as she wanted all the other stuff, though, she also just wanted to hold him. Claire thought back to that morning, how nice it had been to simply be close. She wanted more of that.

There was a playful glint in his eyes as Steve bumped her foot with his once again. “So did I.” No dating, no romance, no whatever they were or whatever they were doing, until after dinner. It was a good incentive to actually finish rather than just diving across the table and kissing her like his life depended on it.

Which was exactly what he wanted to be doing.

He wanted to be doing more than that, but that was rushing things and that was pressure and there was a difference between jumping into the open door and pushing for things she wasn’t ready for. He didn’t know she wasn’t, but some things he wasn’t going to just take.

Advantage being top of that list.

“As for cleaning up,” he added, casual as could be, “I’ll take care of it.” No arguments accepted. She’d gone through the trouble of cooking, no matter how much she enjoyed doing it, and so he was going to tidy up afterward. A fair trade, and the only way he had to take care of her in turn

Now he was just being cute. Claire wasn't complaining. She liked that things could be so fun and easy between them. Even if he had real reasons for making them wait, it still felt light and playful.

It made a huge difference for her, them having gotten to know each other first. She felt so much more comfortable, even with the relatively unfamiliar territory, the redefinition of boundaries. It felt safe.

She knew that he probably intended to tackle the cleanup on his own, knowing him well enough to guess that he'd want to reciprocate for her cooking dinner. But she also wanted to help.

Instead for now Claire focused on finishing up with eating dinner. She really had made a nice meal, despite it being something she'd mostly thrown together.

"You make it hard to negotiate," she teased, nudging his leg under the table with her foot. "I guess I'll allow it."

“Good. It wasn’t up for negotiation.” Steve, as a rule, didn’t negotiate. He was the sort of man who decided on something and did exactly that, didn’t accept argument in most things. In this. Because it was fair, and right, and if he couldn’t look after her in any way but cleaning up and being careful with her heart, he was sure as hell going to be doing that much.

He smiled though, the atmosphere between them staying playful. It was nice, to just be relaxed, to be at ease with someone. Steve had always had that with Claire, but it sat differently now that things had shifted.

More like contentment now.

And when was the last time he’d felt that? He didn’t know that he ever had. Didn’t know that he even fully recognized it. But if he had to call the warm, comfortable feeling he had in her company, just doing the same things they’d always done but with more weight in the simple activity, contentment was the name he’d give it.

Once they were finished eating, he rose from the table, clearing things away before she had a chance to object, going right to do the washing up. Again, before there was time to protest. The sooner they got the mundane out of the way, after all, the sooner they could get on to exploring the new facets to their relationship.

There were still a lot of things to figure out, how it would all look as a part of their professional lives for one, but none of it so urgent it couldn’t wait until tomorrow. And Steve fully intended on taking up the offer to stay if it came again.

She did open her mouth to protest when he started clearing away the dishes, but decided against it. There would no doubt be plenty of times when she might be able to make a case for negotiation, but this wasn't one of them. He could do the dishes.

Instead, Claire simply got up from the table and headed to the kitchen with him. She leaned in the door frame, watching Steve with a smile.

"Fine, but that means I get to supervise." Her tone still held that playfulness, green eyes bright with mischief. "I don't get to be in charge often; I promise I won't abuse my newly claimed authority."

She loved this lighter side of him, just as much as she'd loved getting to know him more seriously as they'd been working together. As they'd gotten closer, she'd become more comfortable playing around and joking when appropriate. Now it was fun to be downright flirtatious.

"Oh, you think you've got authority here?" Steve couldn't help but laugh. She did, of course, have all the authority if that was what would make her comfortable, if that was what would mean they could keep moving forward. He might not accept arguments, but there was no question that he would know perfectly when to slow down and let her take the lead.

Or rather that he'd take the hints that would need to be right under his nose.

But he was a stubborn man who was used to getting his way. Used to issuing orders and having them obeyed. He couldn't say for sure whether that would translate into his personal life as well, not having much in the way of relationships since having settled into the leadership role, but he fully expected he'd be his same, bossy self with her as he always was.

At least Claire would be used to that already. He didn't feel like anything needed to change on that front. The only thing that would was that now that they'd discussed it, he was going to be free to slip his arms around her, to kiss her, to take her back behind closed doors and just see where things went.

Just as soon as he'd cleaned up.

Claire was generally pretty good at following orders, at least with Steve. He didn't get upset when she questioned things. Her questioning wasn't purely to be contrary, it was critical thinking, wanting to understand how things worked and why certain things were done.

Professionally, she could trust his judgment and follow him, but she also wasn't afraid to offer suggestions and perspective of her own. In their personal lives, maybe she did want to take a little more control. To level the playing field, so to speak.

While he always treated her as an equal, she wanted to avoid the appearance of a power imbalance in their relationship outside of work. If this were to ever go public, she knew how it might look to some people. The last thing she wanted was for any of it to reflect on them negatively, especially Steve.

"Mmhmm, I think I do," Claire returned, grinning. She crossed the room, popping herself up to sit on the counter beside the sink. At this height, she was nearly face to face with him. A literal leveling of the field.

"Looks to me like you're doing a fine job, though. I think it'll pass inspection." Try as she might to sound stern, she couldn't stop smiling.

He noticed how sitting on the counter brought her closer to his height, took that as the symbol it was, and couldn’t help smiling at her. The last thing he wanted was any feeling that he was coercing her into wanting him, using any position of leadership he had to make her decision for her, and the gesture was reassurance he didn’t realize he needed.

“I had my rounds on KP. I know what I’m doing.” In fact, he was such a terrible cook that all he’d been allowed to do was the washing up. Steve’s weight shifted slightly, and he impulsively leaned in to brush his lips against hers.

The smile she had turned on him was too much. It was that bright, adoring look that had sparked too many fantasies since he’s known her. Ones he’d either tried to brush aside or kept to his most private moments. That smile did things to him. And now? He didn’t have to turn the feelings away.

He could be impulsive and affectionate and more right back at her.

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