When He Calls Us Home | Chris Evans FF ✓

CAPTAIN AMERICA THROWS LIKE A GIRL

    "LANCE meet Chris, Chris meet Lance...my—I mean the detective."

     "The detective?" Chris' eyebrows squished together in puzzlement as his face drew confusion.

     "Chris who?" Lance asked, a little too territorial, not of Adeline but of himself. He could be quite, eh, non-trusting with first encounters. "Adeline do you have someone working with you?" The way he had asked the question, was like the man already knew the answer.

     "I, um, maybe." She gulped. "Perhaps I should talk to you off speaker—"

     "Oh no, please, keep me on speaker so I can get to know the new fella." Adeline's eyes widened in horror. "So Chris." Oh no, and the interrogation begins, she thought face palming. "Whatever she told you, forget everything and get out of there before you—"

     "OKAY, that's enough," Adeline expressed and picked up her phone, turning off speaker. "Lance!" she whisper yelled. "Don't be rude...what do you mean I was being rude...okay ya for not telling you that...oh you're such a big baby...can I get a word in?"

     As the journalist paced back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, pausing in her strides once in a while, Chris watched from his spot on the couch. The appeal on his face suggested a scared, perplexed, and possibly terrified man. He looked like a petrified teenager caught in the act of doing something immorally wrong. He definitely wasn't sleepy anymore.

     What he thought he was doing in a joking fashion, turned out horribly on his end, and now a petty argument broke out between the detective—who he recently met in a nice manner—and the journalist. Perhaps the detective doesn't take to newcomers, or newbies? he thought, remaining seated and licking his embarrassed wounds.

     He was slowly recovering from his shock, and humiliation, when he realized Adeline hung up and was seated next to him. "You okay? You look a little—"

     "Ya I'm fine," Chris managed to say. He swallowed and stared at the floor. "What," he began, "is a detective doing calling you?" His eyes, dark blue in the dim light, glanced up and met her darker ones.

     She bit her bottom lip and threw her phone on the coffee table. "Remember when I said that I could use another partner, because my other partner in crimes is a long way from here?" She gazed over at him in time to see that he nodded. "My partner is—"

     "A detective," he finished for her, and his deep voice nearly scared her. She hesitantly looked over at him. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

     "Because," she said, and stopped herself, then blurted, "Lance is fickle. He doesn't like anyone helping on his cases unless he knows them, and trusts them. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you."

     Silence cut through them like a two-edged sword. "I thought it was one of your office buddies," he finally admitted, eyes this time on his brown shoes. All of a sudden, little giggles started beside him, then a burst of laughter roared out of Adeline. Chris merely glanced at her, and very solemnly had said, "That's not funny." She laughed even harder. "That's still not funny." His voice slightly cracked near the end with a chuckle, and the side of his lip twitched to the ceiling. "Stop that."  

     "I—" she started, but abruptly held her stomach and rolled back into the couch, and fell into another fit of giggles. "I c-can't," she told through gasps of air. "Y-you thought it—it was one of bahahaha!"

     Chris didn't know whether to be angry, annoyed, or just laugh along. Instead of laughing along though, he picked up a pillow at his end of the couch, and threw the white square at Adeline. The pillow smacked her right on the side of her face, making her wavy auburn hair swoosh to the side with the impact and invisible gust of wind from the cushion.