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WHO: Steve Rogers v 1.Werewolf, Meeting up with Betty and OPEN
WHAT: Letting Betty risk her life to deliver a message and roaming around.
WHEN: Flexible
WHERE: City of Tomorrow
NOTES/WARNINGS: None, will update as necessary.

Betty:
He meets Betty, bright and early Thursday morning. He's dressed in the dark blues of shield, but it's not a uniform, it's his compromise to not standing out in vivid colors, without resorting to the harshness of black. He's nervous while he waits on her, wants to pace, wants to maybe change his mind and back out.

But it's Bucky. He needs to know Bucky's okay - or even just alive, since he's not stupid enough to believe okay, really okay, is even possible. It's not possible for Betty either, though. The conflict there is acute so the first thing he says when he spots her is, "You sure about this?"

Open:
Human:
Steve spends most of his days around City of Tomorrow. He's restless and anxious, and hanging around here is easier for him to do than waiting around in his own world. It stops him from micromanaging, wanting to hover, or clamp down and demand information updates every five minutes.

So he wanders the streets, pokes into McAran tower, grabs cheese fries and a burger at lunch and a steak for dinner. He checks into a coffee shop, has a drink there and even manages to spend a few minutes sketching.

Wolf:
When night falls, he stows his clothes somewhere safe and accessible enough, finds a private corner to change in and spends the night more obviously roaming and pacing - on four feet and with a thick coat of fur. He is, if anything, more into sticking his nose into things that are none of his business and places he doesn't belong.

Not that he belongs in the city at all.

He clearly isn't shy or reclusive, though, much less afraid. He'll approach people, and be reasonably happy to be approached by them.

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Sam's not stupid. He knows the difference between a wolf and a dog, even growing up in a big city, and he knows that approaching even a stray dog in the street is not always the best idea. Let alone a stray wolf prowling around. He's seen stranger things, of course, both back home and here, but even if he's curious, he's not planning on waltzing up to try to pet the wolf.

But it doesn't seem to have any problem approaching him, and its body language is closer to a friendly dog than what Sam would expect from a wolf - and Sam gives a mental shrug and adjusts his own behavior accordingly. He can roll with this.

"Hey buddy," he murmurs, tone low and calm and probably a little closer to a croon than anything else. "You lost out here?"

He knows Sam.

Okay, he knows a Sam, but the appearance, demeanor, and voice are all familiar enough for him to pad up to the guy with even less reserve than he normally shows. His wears are a bit back and his tail's wagging slowly, but he's loose and pretty non-threatening. As non-threatening as a wolf hanging around a city can be.

He walks all the way to Sam, sticks his nose in Sam's hand and nudges.

All right, that's a pretty obvious sign, and Sam can't help the way his expression lights up a little bit. Maybe dogs just look different here, or hell, maybe wolves are just different here. Either way, there's no way Sam's able to resist a greeting like that.

"Yeah, you're right, I can do a better greeting than that," he says with a chuckle, shifting his hand so he can stroke over the wolf's head, and then sink his fingers into his fur to scratch behind his ears. "Hello to you, too. What're you doing all alone this time of night?"

Sam, you are a goober everywhere, and the way Sam's face lights up delights Steve so at least Sam's got good company in being the giant dork.

He leans into the hand and whines a little, wags his tail more overtly and uses dog body language to make his intention clear. He can't really answer the question but he leans hard into the hand and Sam's leg. You know what? Take him home. He's never been happier to see somebody here.

There's no escaping Sam's gooberness, but at least he seems to have made the wolf-dog happy. Sam's more than okay with being a dork for things like this.

He's also just as much of a softie in this world as he is back home, especially when it comes to a big pair of puppy dog eyes. Even more when it's coming from a literal dog, apparently, although given how quick he'd been to let Steve into his house when he showed up on his doorstep, not by much.

"I bet you're hungry, huh? Tell you what, come on back with me and I'll get you set up."

Sam'd wonder about taking home a stray wolf-dog with him, but honestly, this isn't the strangest thing he's ever done. He tousles the dog's ears once more before murmuring, "Come on, boy," as he starts to head towards the apartment he'd snagged in the city. If the dog's willing to follow him, Sam'll definitely make good on his promise.

He is going to have a talk with Sam about the wisdom of taking home strays - might even manage it with a straight face - once he can talk again. For now he just sticks close, and trots along beside Sam all the way home. Good distraction for waiting on word from Betty about Bucky, anyway, and it's still Sam.

Once they're in the apartment he licks Sam's hand, has a look and sniff around, considers vaguely pretending to pee on his sofa but opts not to give Sam ammo to use later.

Then it's a confusing, messy, process that looks like a seizure for about half second and ends with Steve being Steve. "I need a pair of pants."

Hey, now, taking home strays has worked pretty well for him so far. More or less.

He's liking how it worked right now, too, considering he seems to have found himself a pretty decent companion. It's not like he was looking for a dog or anything, but he's not gonna say no to keeping this one around at least for the night.

Until that happens. There's a brief moment of panic - Sam's a medic, yeah, but he's got no idea what to do with a dog having seizures. Then Steve is standing there, and panic turns to what the hell.

His eyebrows shoot up as he just barely resists the urge to reach out and poke Steve, make sure what he's seeing is actually real.

"Oh, just a pair of pants, huh?"

He groans and pushes up to one knee but stays pretty crouched over. Looks up at Sam like this is the most normal shit in the world (there is nothing normal about this and he's actually feeling pretty damned exposed and vulnerable).

"Yeah. Just a pair of pants. I guess maybe a shirt would be nice, but pants first."

Priorities.

All right. The stray wolf-dog that Sam took home and was planning on feeding and maybe thinking about keeping turned into his best friend sitting naked on the floor, staring at him like there's nothing wrong with this scenario.

There's a lot wrong with this scenario, really. But most of it... well, most of it isn't all that important right now. Not when he knows Steve well enough to get the way he's feeling, so Sam doesn't tease him the way he's tempted to. Not yet, anyway. Sam can roll with this.

Still, he can't resist calling over his shoulder as he heads to grab some clothes. "What kind of terrible partner would I be if I didn't get you a shirt along with those pants, huh?"

When he returns, he's careful to keep his eyes on Steve's face as he sets a pile of boxers, pants, and shirt close by before he turns towards the kitchen. He busies himself with poking around in the fridge, giving Steve a little space to get dressed.

"How about you tell me what the hell while I make good on my promise of dinner, even if I did think I was promising it to my new best friend."

If Steve had to pick one reason for liking Sam, get all the various reasons down to just one, it might be his ability to roll with some seriously weird shit. Weird shit, chaotic shit, wild shit, Sam can roll.

The amount of awkwardness that saves....

He takes the stack of clothes and says, "Thanks," because he has manners. He spends a second or two deciding the only real way he can get dressed and not make things more uncomfortable is just to do it.

Then starts pulling on Sam's clothes.

"Uh." Right. The answer to what the hell. "Ran into a woman named Nightshade while I was looking for Bucky. She had her own ideas about what the ultimate soldier was and her own version of a serum to test out."

He... really did want food, and he thought about offering to sit up and beg for it just because it would be more 'normal' in some ways, but he really felt like Sam deserved an explanation.

But God, he hoped Sam kept rolling.

It's maybe just a little bit endearing when Steve gets flustered or awkward, but not like this. This is the serious stuff, the stuff that's better taken in stride until it's not quite so fresh.

And he's a little glad he's looking away when he hears the answer, because his first response is fuck. As if Steve hadn't already been through enough, of course the world's gotta throw more at him. ...and yeah, okay, maybe it's stupid to be protective of the guy who's a super soldier and has been a national icon for longer than Sam's been born, but there it is. Sam came to terms with it a long time ago.

"Damn. How long ago was this?"

Either Steve's been keeping a hell of a secret from him, or it's a pretty safe bet to assume that Steve isn't exactly from his world, kind of like the Barnes he'd met here. Sam'll hold off reacting too much until he learns which one for sure - but honestly, far as he can tell so far, it's still Steve.

It's pretty ridiculous for anybody to be protective of him, but Steve's got his own brand's of ridiculous and it's not too aggravating coming from Sam, most of the time. He's not real interested in seeing strong reactions right now, though. Mostly because he's even less interested in having one.

"It's only been a couple of months. I ran into her while I was off looking for Bucky." He shrugs and pulls the shirt down further. "So, about that food."

He's not shutting down the conversation, just throwing open an escape hatch for the conversation. If Sam wants or needs it.

As far as Sam's concerned, Steve could use someone to feel protective over him - although it's more Steve's emotional and mental well being that Sam tends to feel protective over. It just sounds weird when he puts it like that, so he just keeps it to himself.

He watches Steve out of his peripheral vision for a moment, trying to decide how uncomfortable Steve is with the topic at hand.

"I got chicken, pork chops, or steak, your choice." There's another brief pause, then he adds, "If you don't wanna talk about it, man, I get it. I'll let it go. But you know I'm always here if you need me, yeah?"

"Yeah, I know."

He does. That's one of the things about Sam. There's not much there to get him riled up, maybe, which isn't much like most of the friendships he's had - but he doesn't doubt that Sam's got his back.

He hopes like heck that Sam knows the sentiment's returned.

"There's not a whole lot to say about it, at least not from where I'm standing." That's true. It's just a thing that happened and is. "What's gonna be the easiest thing for you to turn into food, and can I do anything to help?"

Sam keeps watching him for a moment longer, but he's satisfied that Steve actually believes that and isn't just giving him the brush off. So he nods.

"All right, point, I guess on the scale of weird shit that happens in our lives, you turning into a wolf is... nah, I gotta be honest, it's up there, man. But it's nothing I can't roll with, long as you're rolling with it."

He turns his attention back to the food, considering. "Steak, probably, it just needs some seasoning and I can drop it on the heat. Can you put the rest of that back in the fridge for me while I get these on?" He hesitates for a moment, then asks, "Are you, uh. Are you okay with me asking some questions about it?"

He immediately went to work clearing up int he kitchen, getting things put away. It kept him busy, made him feel useful, and it was a hell of a lot more him than standing around while somebody else prepared a meal for him, even if that somebody was Sam.

"You can ask whatever you want." He glances up when he says that, so it's clear that he's not avoiding looking at the other man. Then it's back to work. "I'm not telling people at home, but there are reasons for that and not many of them apply to you, anyway."

Things like, oh, Captain America being a fucking werewolf and the firestorm that would happen if media caught wind of it. Sam? Never going to be an issue. Tony? Big issue.

It's almost domestic, the two of them moving around together in the kitchen like this, which is both unsettling and comforting at the same time. It's not like he and Steve haven't lived in the same place for a while now, it's just... it's just this is nice, really. He's just gonna let it be nice, and not worry too much about it other than that.

Sam ducks his head a little as he focuses on seasoning the meat in an even layer, trying not to let himself be too appreciative about that. Sure, he knows that he and Steve share some things with each other that they maybe wouldn't share with others, that they trust and support each other, but it's one thing to know that and another to hear Steve actually imply it.

"Ain't like I got anyone to spill shit to, anyway. Except maybe the birds, I save all my best secrets for them." He can't resist throwing in a little joke, shooting Steve a soft smile before he gets on with the actual questions. "Just how werewolf are we talking? Are we gonna have to start worrying about full moons and silver bullets?"

Steve's pretty aware of the domesticity of the scene, too, but he's not going to remark on it either. It's more reassuring than it might've been without the wolf influence, though, and that's say something. Probably something to do with dens and pack, but he's really not all that inclined to think too hard about it.

He finishes up putting things away and parks himself against a counter and more or less out of Sam's way, and gives a low, kind of amused, snort. "No more than you'd have to worry about any other kinda bullet." Which, you know, is true enough, really. He heals, he's impressive, but he's not bulletproof. "As far as I can tell, I'm basically the same as I was, except I can turn into a wolf. Senses got jacked up some more, though." A pause and - "Yeah, full moon makes changing ...not optional."

Sam snorts in return, shooting him a little teasing smile. "So keep on covering your ass when we go charging into things but don't get paranoid, got it."

He sets the steaks on the stove top grill, leaning against the counter as he considers that.

"Huh. All right, then, note to myself: maybe start showering a little bit extra. So what about..." He pauses as he tries to figure out how to ask 'so is it like those werewolf movies where the dude goes all crazy' without actually saying that. "I mean, tonight it seemed like you were still pretty much you, just as a wolf. Is it different if it's not optional?"

"Sounds about right. Maybe cover my ass a little more literally and start stashing pants around, just in case." Is he self-depreciating? You bet your ass he is, because he's Steve. Also because it might come in handy.

His eyes track from the steak, then back to Sam's face and he shrugs a little. "Doesn't seem to make any real difference. Guess I'm a little... hotter tempered, more likely to react first and think later." Which - well, maybe of that what you will, Sam. Which leads him back around to - "Why would you shower more?"

You don't smell bad, Sam. You smell -

Okay, that's awkward, but good. Part of what feels good about this place.

All right, he can't help but laugh at that, sudden and soft and grin going wide. "Mmm, I think I can handle that. Not all that much to cover, really." There's a glint in his eye as he throws some sass back, though he manages to hold off from adding in something about the view.

"Good to know. All right, yeah, I got this. I've handled 'my best friend is a super soldier from the stone age' for a while now, I can handle throwing wolf in there, too. Give me a head's up if things start getting... I don't know, worse? Weirder? Whatever." His brows furrow a little at Steve's question, and he shrugs one shoulder. "You know, the sense of smell thing. Not all of us are the run thirteen miles without breaking a sweat type."

"Keep calling it the stone-age, Mister, and I'm gonna start communicating with points and grunts." Which was teasing. He was smiling when he said it, his tone was warm. His smile's maybe not as certain since he's still feeling - pun not intended - exposed, but it's Sam and the warmth is just a thing that's there, with him. He couldn't turn that off hif he tried.

He blinks a little at the rest, though, and the smile fades a bit. "...I promise you, Sam, any soap you use is gonna bothr my nose a heck of a lot more than you smelling like you,."

That gets another chuckle out of Sam. "Now that I'd almost like to see." It's always been so damn easy between them, right from the very beginning, and Sam's almost grateful to see that's apparently still true even when Steve's revealing that he's a werewolf.

Granted, Sam'd always thought he'd be open minded and judgement free - more or less - about anything Steve wanted to share with him, but he hadn't quite counted on werewolf.

His brows pinch a little when Steve's smile slips, though, because he isn't a hundred percent on what'd made that happen, and he hadn't meant to kill the teasing mood. Which means he's definitely going to try to bring it back. "You got it, I'll scratch that off the list. That sounds almost like a compliment, man, you saying I smell good?"

...all right, he'd maybe slipped a little closer to flirting banter than teasing there, but it's not like he hasn't done that before.

He arches an eyebrow at Sam for the first, implying heavily that if Sam's going to make it a dare, Steve's going to pick it up. Smart people can walk away from dares. It's not a kind of intelligence Steve has. Has ever had. Is likely to ever have.

The rest... Good news: Steve wouldn't recognize flirting if it walked up and kissed him square on the lips. The bad: He still gets a little uneasy in response to the question, because he's aware of his own feelings and that he's maybe exposing them here. He overcompensates, and looks Sam square in the eye. "Why do you think I'm so comfortable being here? Smells like you."

His grin just widens a little at that arched eyebrow. Sam likes to think that he does have the kind of intelligence that makes him being able to walk away from a challenge. Sometimes. But mostly, nah, that's one place he and Steve are a little too similar, and he's kind of looking forward to seeing what Steve does with it.

And then Steve says that.

Sam's eyes widen a little in surprise. He hadn't actually expected Steve to get all direct like that, though in retrospect, he probably should have. He swallows a little, just the smallest bit off balance. It's a hell of a lot easier to be charming and flirty when he doesn't have a stake in anything, or when he can convince himself it's just silly banter. He loses his game a little when he's got Steve looking at him like this, open and honest. Maybe because it forces him to admit that it does mean something, at least to Sam.

But he doesn't look away, or try to take it back to light and teasing. Instead he angles himself a little closer, smiling at Steve soft and sincere. "Wish I'd known that earlier, I've been trying to figure out the best way to get you comfortable and relaxing a little since I first met you. Gonna have to try to rope you into coming around here more often."