Yankee Stadium, The Bronx, New York, Wednesday Night
The new stadium wasn't the old one, but Steve was starting to get used to things never staying the same. He was alone for this game--the Avengers were fighting some arcane evil somewhere in the midwest, and he could just see Clint asking any reporters who happened to be around if they had the score. He'd done it before.
Or, well, he would've been alone except for how, about halfway through the second inning, he'd recognized the guy standing next to him as one of the regulars in the section he'd frequented at the previous Yankee Stadium--one of the guys who'd lean over and hiss in a non-regular's ear, "He's not here to be stared at," when they thought Steve wasn't looking--and they'd gotten to talking in between the cheering.
When the game and the ceremony and the speeches were over and people started filtering out toward the chaos of the subway, Steve's new friend, who turned out to be named Jay, turned to him and, unthinking, asked if he wanted to come with him to continue this party at a bar he knew. Steve had to turn him down. He knew how it'd be. Either everyone would know who he was immediately and things would be weird, or they wouldn't and everything would be fine until someone other than Steve's new buddy figured it out and let everyone else in on it, and then it would be weird. So he grinned and shook his head and said, "Can't. I have a plane to catch."
"A plane? Where you goin', man?"
He couldn't say 'home.' It didn't matter if he never lived here again, New York was home. So he said, "Maryland. I have work in the morning."
Jay stared at him. "You're gonna fly back to Maryland and go to work."
Steve grinned wider. "And I flew into town about four o'clock this afternoon."
"You're crazy."
Steve laughed. "Maybe. But I wouldn't have missed this for the world!" He clapped Jay on the shoulder and said, "Have a cold one for me, okay?" He waited just long enough for him to agree before heading down the stairs toward the exit.
It might've been a short trip, but it had sure been a good one.
Or, well, he would've been alone except for how, about halfway through the second inning, he'd recognized the guy standing next to him as one of the regulars in the section he'd frequented at the previous Yankee Stadium--one of the guys who'd lean over and hiss in a non-regular's ear, "He's not here to be stared at," when they thought Steve wasn't looking--and they'd gotten to talking in between the cheering.
When the game and the ceremony and the speeches were over and people started filtering out toward the chaos of the subway, Steve's new friend, who turned out to be named Jay, turned to him and, unthinking, asked if he wanted to come with him to continue this party at a bar he knew. Steve had to turn him down. He knew how it'd be. Either everyone would know who he was immediately and things would be weird, or they wouldn't and everything would be fine until someone other than Steve's new buddy figured it out and let everyone else in on it, and then it would be weird. So he grinned and shook his head and said, "Can't. I have a plane to catch."
"A plane? Where you goin', man?"
He couldn't say 'home.' It didn't matter if he never lived here again, New York was home. So he said, "Maryland. I have work in the morning."
Jay stared at him. "You're gonna fly back to Maryland and go to work."
Steve grinned wider. "And I flew into town about four o'clock this afternoon."
"You're crazy."
Steve laughed. "Maybe. But I wouldn't have missed this for the world!" He clapped Jay on the shoulder and said, "Have a cold one for me, okay?" He waited just long enough for him to agree before heading down the stairs toward the exit.
It might've been a short trip, but it had sure been a good one.