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breakinglight11Forever Captain:
“The Hemingway Trip”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
Summary: “In the twenty years since Steve Rogers returned to the midcentury to build a life and family, he’s always been surprised at how close he became with Howard Stark. But it’s that very closeness that makes him the only person Howard can talk to when he’s wrestling with something big.
Nothing like a fishing trip to give the boys a chance to talk.”
~~~
1. Birds of Odd Feathers
Of the many strange turns in Steve's very strange life, chief among them was the depth of his friendship with Howard Stark. He never would have believed it back when he'd first met the man, fiddling over dials and shooting off his mouth. Even now, he often thought it was a miracle that they were friends at all. But somehow, not only had they managed it, but they had maintained that closeness now over more than twenty years.
In any other circumstances less unique than theirs, Steve doubted they would have. They occupied such different worlds and led such different lives— Steve's was simple and domestic, Howard's was glitzy and wealthy, Steve craved contentment while Howard was restlessly ambitious, Steve stayed out of the spotlight where Howard endlessly chased it. They didn't even have much of anything in common, which made spending time together an occasional trial. With Jarvis he actually shared a few interests, like art and mystery novels and gardening. He and Rishun had raised their families practically in each other's houses, and connected both in their domestic focus as well as their unusual service histories. And of course, no friend he'd ever had would ever compare to Bucky, his brother and his right arm. But somehow, everything they had gone through together had been enough to bond them.
Their wartime service was certainly part of it. Honestly Steve had not considered them friends back then, but having depended on one enough through such an intense undertaking forged a connection that endured. It meant when he'd returned to 1947 after his mission with the Infinity Stones, Howard was one of the precious few people he'd trusted to know he had come back. Since then, they developed a genuine closeness over the ensuing twenty-two years, a depth of confidence they found in few other people. Even if they couldn't agree on a movie to see without drawing straws first, somehow they found they could talk to each other about things they couldn't with just anybody else.
So it wasn't that unusual when Howard called him out of the blue that one day in October of 1969, and got to his point with his typical lack of preamble. "Hey, you got anything going on in the next couple of days?"
Steve wracked his brain, glancing at the wall calendar just to be sure. But these days he found he had more time on his hands since Elizabeth had gone off to school. "Nothing big, I don't think. Why do you ask?"
"I thought you might feel like going up to that fishing hole. You know, the one where you like to drag me and Jarvis."
Steve did know the one, from the occasions he'd tried to persuade the fellas to come around to the sport. But he did not remember much in the way of enthusiasm from Howard. "Really? You want to go fishing?"
"Yeah, so? Weren't you the one trying to get me to give it a chance? Would'a thought you'd be glad I'm not kicking and screaming."
That was a fair point, and he did like it better with company. "Well. It is bass season." Steve considered. "You want to make a thing of it and invite anybody? If we wait 'til Saturday, Jamie might want to come with us."
Howard cleared his throat, with a strange unaccustomed awkwardness. "Actually, I thought it could be just you and me this time. You know, man to man against the fish— real Hemingway kind of thing."
Steve had to laugh; Hemingway had been somewhat ruined for him ever since hearing Peggy declare he read like a drunken telegram. But Howard seemed to have already forgotten his own joke, and was tensely awaiting his response. "Is that jake with you?"
"Yeah, sure." Steve tried to keep his tone light. "That way, you won't scare off anybody's catch but mine."
"Heh. Sure." Howard made some attempt to match him, but didn't quite manage it. "So tomorrow's good? If I swing by for you around ten?"
"I'll tell Peggy I'm out for the day."
"Swell. You bring the rods and whatnot, I'll bring the camp rations."
"Works for me. Remember, you're going to need a fishing license."
"Buddy, I'm Howard Stark," he scoffed. "I got everything I need."
And with that last sudden bit of bluster, he hung up the phone.
Next chapter: 2. In the Drink
“The Hemingway Trip”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
Summary: “In the twenty years since Steve Rogers returned to the midcentury to build a life and family, he’s always been surprised at how close he became with Howard Stark. But it’s that very closeness that makes him the only person Howard can talk to when he’s wrestling with something big.
Nothing like a fishing trip to give the boys a chance to talk.”
~~~
1. Birds of Odd Feathers
Of the many strange turns in Steve's very strange life, chief among them was the depth of his friendship with Howard Stark. He never would have believed it back when he'd first met the man, fiddling over dials and shooting off his mouth. Even now, he often thought it was a miracle that they were friends at all. But somehow, not only had they managed it, but they had maintained that closeness now over more than twenty years.
In any other circumstances less unique than theirs, Steve doubted they would have. They occupied such different worlds and led such different lives— Steve's was simple and domestic, Howard's was glitzy and wealthy, Steve craved contentment while Howard was restlessly ambitious, Steve stayed out of the spotlight where Howard endlessly chased it. They didn't even have much of anything in common, which made spending time together an occasional trial. With Jarvis he actually shared a few interests, like art and mystery novels and gardening. He and Rishun had raised their families practically in each other's houses, and connected both in their domestic focus as well as their unusual service histories. And of course, no friend he'd ever had would ever compare to Bucky, his brother and his right arm. But somehow, everything they had gone through together had been enough to bond them.
Their wartime service was certainly part of it. Honestly Steve had not considered them friends back then, but having depended on one enough through such an intense undertaking forged a connection that endured. It meant when he'd returned to 1947 after his mission with the Infinity Stones, Howard was one of the precious few people he'd trusted to know he had come back. Since then, they developed a genuine closeness over the ensuing twenty-two years, a depth of confidence they found in few other people. Even if they couldn't agree on a movie to see without drawing straws first, somehow they found they could talk to each other about things they couldn't with just anybody else.
So it wasn't that unusual when Howard called him out of the blue that one day in October of 1969, and got to his point with his typical lack of preamble. "Hey, you got anything going on in the next couple of days?"
Steve wracked his brain, glancing at the wall calendar just to be sure. But these days he found he had more time on his hands since Elizabeth had gone off to school. "Nothing big, I don't think. Why do you ask?"
"I thought you might feel like going up to that fishing hole. You know, the one where you like to drag me and Jarvis."
Steve did know the one, from the occasions he'd tried to persuade the fellas to come around to the sport. But he did not remember much in the way of enthusiasm from Howard. "Really? You want to go fishing?"
"Yeah, so? Weren't you the one trying to get me to give it a chance? Would'a thought you'd be glad I'm not kicking and screaming."
That was a fair point, and he did like it better with company. "Well. It is bass season." Steve considered. "You want to make a thing of it and invite anybody? If we wait 'til Saturday, Jamie might want to come with us."
Howard cleared his throat, with a strange unaccustomed awkwardness. "Actually, I thought it could be just you and me this time. You know, man to man against the fish— real Hemingway kind of thing."
Steve had to laugh; Hemingway had been somewhat ruined for him ever since hearing Peggy declare he read like a drunken telegram. But Howard seemed to have already forgotten his own joke, and was tensely awaiting his response. "Is that jake with you?"
"Yeah, sure." Steve tried to keep his tone light. "That way, you won't scare off anybody's catch but mine."
"Heh. Sure." Howard made some attempt to match him, but didn't quite manage it. "So tomorrow's good? If I swing by for you around ten?"
"I'll tell Peggy I'm out for the day."
"Swell. You bring the rods and whatnot, I'll bring the camp rations."
"Works for me. Remember, you're going to need a fishing license."
"Buddy, I'm Howard Stark," he scoffed. "I got everything I need."
And with that last sudden bit of bluster, he hung up the phone.
~~~
Next chapter: 2. In the Drink
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