A Simple Touch

Pairing: Kagome x Steve R./C. America
Genre: Comedy .Romance . Adventure
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They were both strangers in this world. Their romance was chaste to observers; all Stark could grumble was that 'it was like watching his grandparents flirt.'

If she hadn't blinked he'd never known she was alive.

She looked antique in the garbs adorned, wearing a flowing white kimono with a crimson hakama overtop. The soft pink stitched Sakura patterns reflected beneath the dim glow of the streetlamp. Her hands were folded within the oversized bell sleeves and her feet hidden beneath the layer of her dated outfit. Calmly, she stood under the dim glow of the lamp gazing upward at the light as if it were the strangest oddity. It took a moment, but he wondered why she hadn't looked away, surely her eyes must be hurting.

Ghostly was her visage, and he wondered if the brief battle had left him imagining odd things. They hadn't found anything wrong with his mind, what with being frozen. He wondered if there was damage. Her lashes suddenly fluttered, like butterfly wings beating softly upon the breeze. The long dark lashes gently graced her porcelain skin as she looked away from light. She couldn't be a ghost or an imagined visage from his freezer burned mind—he knew what freezer burn was. Tony frequently took to that nickname over spandex jokes anymore. His outfit wasn't spandex, but Tony still joked about it.

Calmly, the woman withdrew a hand from her sleeve. Her hand was petite and pale like her face, he wondered if she were composed of porcelain. There wasn't any visible flaw upon her skin. Slowly, she turned her hand left, she turned it right, as if searching for something. The space between her eyebrows pinched like there was something missing.

He took a step forward; she either didn't hear him or ignored him. Her hand appeared to be the most interesting thing next to the streetlamp. As he continued approaching he called out, "Miss?" He kept his tone questioning and wary.

Steve Rogers stopped walking as her wide cobalt gaze met his faded denim blue eyes. Her pink lips slightly parted and he was drawn to her lips, his cheeks softly flushed beneath his mask as he forced his eyes to her gaze.

"Are you alright Miss?" He questioned as he watched her.

He remembered learning a bit of German during the war. It was hard to be on a battlefield and not pick up a few words. The German language was rough and commanding, it formed in the back of the throat pronounced with a stern prominence that commandeered the mouth. When this strange woman spoke, the language was fluid. It flowed from her mouth with quick short sentences. He didn't know what to say, he couldn't speak whatever she was speaking. Instead, he lifted his free hand and kept his shield lowered as he tried to show her he meant no harm.

She quickly spoke again, her eyes wide and worried. He calmly approached her intent on guiding her away from the damage he and Tony had wrought in battle. She took a step back and he paused watching her.

Her lips moved, words spilled forth, but he couldn't understand her.

"I don't understand," he sighed, watching her mouth snap shut with an audible clap.

Her shadow beneath her feet suddenly stretched out. It twisted and swirled beneath expanding and consuming the dim light that shined upon her. A wistful sigh escaped her lips as she smiled and blinked. The shadows crawled upward like oil staining across her ancient outfit. He raced forward watching as confusion tainted her delicate features. He held out his blue gloved hand as he attempted to reach her, he'd pull her from the darkness.

Hesitant, she held out her own hand toward him. Her eyes pleaded at him to reach her, to save her. Steve watched as the darkness slithered along her arm and consumed her pale flesh. He stretched out and fell forward as the darkness struck; it swallowed her pulling her into the colorless void beneath her feet. His hands hit the pavement and he was gazing at a normal street. There was no sign that the woman had ever existed. He blinked and exhaled as he got to his feet.

'Was she imagined?'

No—there was something real about her that assured him she was alive.

He heard the familiar hum of thrusters coming from behind him, he didn't bother to look. He knew it was Tony—Ironman. They couldn't be using first names when in uniform, regardless of Tony's outlandish personality. Did they even have secret identities—he wasn't sure anymore.

"Did you clear the area?" Ironman questioned. The sound of pressurized air releasing from his gears filled the night once he landed. His metallic feet stepped heavily upon the ground as he came to stand by his comrade. When Captain America didn't respond Ironman cleared his throat, a bit irked that someone could ignore him. "Well?"

Steve blinked and glanced at the metal mask as he replied, "It's clear."

"Then you're just gazing into darkness, why?" Ironman questioned with a flip of his metallic hand.

Would Tony think him crazy? There was no doubt in his mind that Tony would. If he couldn't prove it by science or if he didn't have a hand in its creation then the answer was simple; it was worthless or didn't exist.

"There was a girl—."

"So you are interested in women, but while on the clock—bad work ethic," Tony quickly scolded with a chuckle, finding himself amusing.

'Ethic,' Steve thought. Tony lecturing on ethic could cause the universe to implode in its own contradiction. He roughly exhaled through his nose, annoyed at Tony and at his own thoughts.

"She was dressed like an old china doll," Steve spoke, finding a comparison.

The hot rod red mask withdrew and Steve Rogers was gazing into the dubious face of Tony Stark. His brows were raised and his lips quirked as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to be confused or amused, he was both. Tony circled his hands together as he tried to string together thoughts or a witty remark.

"A china doll," Tony simply repeated, settling.

Steve roughly shrugged as he replied, "That's the only comparison I have."

"Right," Tony drawled. He didn't know what to say other than, "Well, we have to report this incident to mother."

Steve lifted a brow, if Fury heard Tony refer to him as mother he was sure he'd flip. He wasn't even sure anyone knew Tony's nickname for Fury. He didn't doubt Banner knew it, dare repeat it, no. Thor couldn't help but burst out and proclaim things he found funny to others, keeping him in the dark was vital for survival. As for Widow and Hawkeye, Steve was still debating how he felt about those two in his mind. He turned around to face Ironman and the crater of destruction located in the middle of small city. Ironman turned around as he surveyed the damage as well.

"Do you think he'd notice this mess?" Tony questioned, reporting to Mother wasn't a priority.

"Who wouldn't?" Steve muttered.

Tony barely had time to laugh before Jarvis alerted him to an incoming call. A digital picture of Nick Fury labeled 'Mother Dearest' filled his vision and he sighed drawing Steve's attention. Mother could wait a few more minutes. He was still trying to process that he almost got his ass kicked by a female creature no taller than five feet and literally bone thin. When the creatures were destroyed they dissolved into shadows, at least he thought they were destroyed.

"They're dead." Tony grumbled to himself. "They literally drained ten people and exploded into shadows." He paused as he glanced at his surroundings. "They're dead."

"Did you ignore a call from Fury?" Steve asked.

"Huh?" Tony muttered. At Steve's annoyed look he assured, "I can't make a call and send him a file at the same time." It was a small lie, but one he'd know Steve would accept. The man was getting out, but he didn't know much about technology. He glanced at the destruction and then back at the area Steve had been gazing at, maybe there was a connection.

'China doll.' Tony thought with a grin.

...TBC...
Questions, Comments, Concerns?