Steve blinks, first in general, and then up at the girl - young woman - in front of him. Who... he... ran into. And he was the one who got knocked over. (Story of his life, really.) And she's offering him a hand up. That's... so completely different from what he's used to, Steve can't help but stare for another long, awkward moment. He pushes himself up instead of taking her hand, belatedly realizing how rude that is, but by then, it's too late.
She asked-- she asked him a question, right! "Oh, uh-- y-yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just uh, need to watch where I'm goin', I guess. Sorry, was a little distract-- my papers!" He looks around wildly, but thankfully the buildings in this area are close enough there's not much wind; Steve scurries over to grab them from the few feet away they'd fluttered, counting them frantically before clutching them to his chest--
...and realizing just how idiotic he must look. "Uh, sorry. These are-- very important, I don't want to lose them."
Taking a chance, since she already offered him a hand up, Steve sticks his own hand out. "I'm Steve. Steve Rogers."
It's surprising when he doesn't take her hand, but she isn't offended. It's adorable when he stumbles over his words, but she doesn't say anything. It's normal when he finally sticks his hand out for an introduction, but she just stands there, staring at him with her mouth hanging open while she struggles to say a damn thing.
Steve Rogers. She can see the resemblance now, the facial features that will stay the same even when the rest of him changes. But she can also hear the same cadence in his voice, see the difference in the way he holds himself, and her mind is just racing at all of it.
He hasn't taken the serum yet. He has no idea what lies ahead of him. None of them do. The way he'll help to win the war, the legacy he'll leave behind, the way he'll disappear from the world only to be found again... She recalls the first time they met after SHIELD had fallen, and suddenly there's so much irony to the situation that she has to give the universe credit for its sense of humor. He'd been the strong powerhouse of SHIELD and she'd been a new recruit finding her way; now their situations are completely reversed.
Before more than a few seconds pass, she shakes herself out of her stupor and takes his hand, giving it the solid shake she gives everyone she meets. What she doesn't hesitate to do is give him a name that she wishes she'd had that first time: "Daisy Johnson."
Okay, maybe there's a bit of stupor left because that's all she manages before she's just sort of staring at him again in something like awe. Sorry, Steve. She'll be embarrassed about this later but right now she's just really overwhelmed.
The first second or so, Steve gives her the benefit of the doubt - he's startled her, as much as he'd been startled to begin with; a slow reaction is understandable. It's as the seconds slowly tick onward that his face starts to become a blank, barely-polite mask. He's used to girls staring at him - frankly, that's when they're actually being polite, instead of giggling behind their hands, outright laughing at him, or turning their noses up before walking away.
So yeah, this is as polite as it usually gets, but it still-- it makes him angry, his hand clenching on his enlistment papers still held in his other hand, jaw clenching. He should've known one potentially-good thing wouldn't suddenly change his luck for the better.
But then she grabs his hand with the most enthusiastic handshake he's sure he's ever gotten - he can't stop his eye from wincing slightly at the strength, and kinda hates himself because isn't he always telling Bucky he's not fragile, he's not made of spun glass, he can handle some rough treatment, but damn, she's enthusiastic.
Steve blinks at the look she - Daisy, is still giving him. It makes him slightly uncomfortable, but he can't pinpoint why. Maybe just because he's never had whatever emotion is on her face directed at him before.
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Johnson. Uh, sorry for bumping into you, I was..." Not sure what to say, he eventually waves the papers around with a slight smile. "I just-- I got some good-- some unexpected news."
He won't jinx it by saying it's good, because it's a foot in the door, but it's not a sure thing yet. And he's not gonna tell someone he's just met that he got accepted into the army - he's already had to sign a nondisclosure agreement about the training itself, and nobody would believe him if he just said "I'm in the army now." She'd probably march right into the recruitment office and demand to know what kind of joke they're playing.
She'd believe him. She'd believe just about anything he said right now, because Steve Rogers doesn't lie. Well, he does, of course he does, but— It's different with him. He doesn't lie casually, only with purpose and intent, when a lie is needed or can't be avoided. He doesn't lie to hurt people, and it's crazy that she knows this with such certainty when they've only met a handful of times over the years. The guy just really leaves an impression.
Okay, Agent Johnson. Snap out of it. Be in awe of Coulson's soon to be idol later.
"Something you've been waiting for?" she questions with a small but genuine smile. There's a knowing look in her eyes and a hint of amusement in her expression that isn't the least but malicious. She doesn't remember the details of the timeline of Steve's journey before the end of the war but she'd bet good money that this has something to do with Project Rebirth. Not that she can say that, of course... and neither can he. "Congratulations. I hope it works out for you."
There may not be anything malicious in her expression, but just the amusement has Steve tensing slightly with suspicion that he's secretly being mocked, laughed at silently.
But Daisy doesn't ask. She seems to accept what he's said at face value, and... congratulates him. Just like that. Steve can't help frowning at that suspiciously as well, but quickly smooths his expression out. She's being nice, and no matter what the reason is for it, even if she is about to turn around and mock him, he wouldn't feel right being rude to her first.
"Oh, thanks. I— it's not positive yet, but there's a chance... Y'ever get a good feeling about something, like maybe even if the odds are stacked against ya, you're gonna beat 'em? That's..." he waves the papers around a little, as if to showcase that this is what he's talking about, even though she doesn't know what they are. "That's how I feel, right now. About this opportunity."
He shuffles a little, unsure what else to say. God, he doesn't know how to talk to girls. Despite all of Bucky's coaching, he's never had the chance to really practice. And she's... Well, she's pretty. She's so pretty, dolled up with long hair in curls, looking like she's out to have a good time.
Probably here with a date. Maybe even a boyfriend. Figures. First girl who, from all appearances genuinely doesn't mind talking to him, and she's probably got someone.
...even if the odds are stacked against ya, you're gonna beat 'em? Despite years of hearing Coulson wax poetic about Captain America and everything the man had stood for and overcome, even after meeting the guy herself a few times, she'd never gotten it until this moment. Seeing the man he'd been before the serum, remembering that he had a laundry list of physical ailments that kept him out of the army but he'd kept trying until he'd been recruited for Project Rebirth—
He'd never stopped trying. She's seeing him now in the moments before he even has a sure thing in his hand but he's still so damn excited just to have the chance. And... she gets it because she's been there. He beat those odds and so she did she.
Something in her chest tightens and she knows she has a choice to make. She can hear Mack's voice in her head warning caution and she takes all of a second to make her choice. Too much time and she'll lose this chance.
Ripples, not waves. Ripples, not waves. Ripples—
"Then we should celebrate," she informs him, smiling brightly and jumping headfirst into what might be a really bad idea. But when has that ever stopped her before? "Let me buy you something to eat. Or drink. Part apology for running into you and part congratulations."
There's nothing but sincerity in her tone and expression but there's some part of her that still worries he won't accept. She hopes he does. Jump with her, Steve.
Steve's first thought at the invitation is to glance around, just to make sure she's still talking to him. Even girls who are ostensibly on dates, with him, don't want to spend time with him. He's used to that. This is not at all something he's used to.
His second thought, after deciding that she does still seem to be talking to him, is to squint at her a little suspiciously. It's not unheard of for a dame to pay for her own stuff in a group outting, or even if it's just two friends. But "You don't even know me. You don't gotta pay for me."
Shoot, that sounds really rude, though. "I mean, I appreciate the gesture," as completely foreign as it is, "but it's not really... necessary..."
And then his inner Bucky pops up. You moron! What're you doin', turnin' down a classy dame who wants to go out with you! I don't care if it's just a friendly gesture, it means spending time with you, in public! First you think she's taken, or at least out of your league, and now she's intimating she's not, and you're turning her down?! Rogers, you're killin' me!!
God, even his inner Bucky is a drama queen.
"I mean-- that is-- I wouldn't mind getting a bite to eat." He finishes lamely. He glances around the park. "Maybe not here, though. Their prices are ridiculously high. But I, uh... there's a place a few blocks away?"
Geez, she's never had a guy so hesitant to spend time with her before. It's honestly a weird sensation. Even on a superficial level, she's always known she's attractive, and she's certainly used it to her advantage on numerous occasions, and so that's why she's almost surprised that he doesn't just immediately agree. But perhaps there's so much more at work here, especially with how cruel society can be... She knows all too well herself. So she waits, hoping that he'll stumble through his own roadblocks, to end up in the right place.
There. Finally. For half a second, she considers mentioning that this place is fine, she's got money, but— That won't put him at ease. She wants to talk with him and they can't do that comfortably here. So she smiles again and nods, relief clearly written across her face if he bothers to notice it.
"That sounds great," she agrees. "I'm, uh, kinda new in town, so lead the way."
If he knew what she was thinking during his own mental gymnastics, he'd be embarrassed. But then, the whole point is that clearly he doesn't know what she's thinking, because she's asked to go eat with him. The only person who's ever done that has been his best friend since they were 7.
Hearing that she's new here actually does put him a little more at ease. Sure New York City still gets all sorts of immigrants, both foreign and American from other parts of the country, but Steve's never really had much cause to meet any of them before, unless they move to his little section of Brooklyn. And if they've made it that far, usually they're already fairly jaded. Daisy's just... nice. Not in a naive sort of way, but... friendly, optimistic, in a way most New Yorker's aren't. Hell, as polite and sometimes annoyingly optimistic as Steve himself is, he's not all that friendly sometimes.
"Okay, sure. It's not, nothin' fancy really, but fresh food, tastes pretty good. Which is harder to find sometimes than you'd think," he confides. They are going from a national depression straight into war rationing, so it's a bigger achievement than it might normally sound like. But who knows, maybe she's from some small town where fresh produce is easier to come by than the over-crowded, industrialized City.
With that in mind, he tries to make some casual conversation. "So, where're you from? Just, upstate, or? Visiting some family, or movin' here for somethin'?"
...Is that too personal to ask someone you just met? God, he can't remember what's polite when faced with a... well, a pretty face.
There are exactly two outcomes whenever Daisy Johnson has to build a cover story on the fly — either she does it flawlessly and without a single hitch, or something trips her up and sends her into a spiral of utter failure where she's undoubtedly caught. In this particular instance, she is really hoping that the former wins out.
"I actually lived here when I was younger," she answers smoothly, constructing the lies upon foundations of truth to make them easier to sell. "At Saint Agnes Orphanage."
Part of her aches to say the words out loud. Even after knowing the reason her childhood had been the way it was, the ties to SHIELD that had helped keep her safe, she still can't forget how much those years had scarred her. But that's not what today is about now.
"I moved away a while ago and I'm only back now for work," she elaborates easily. "I'm, uh, not sure how long I'll be in town, but it's nice to meet people while I am."
While he may not know how to talk to women specifically, Steve does possess more than an ounce of tact. He tries not to wince when Daisy mentions living in an orphanage; she may not seem overly upset about it, stating it as any other fact, but Steve knows a thing or two about glossing over the truly painful parts of your life. The way she moves on quickly, and glosses over pretty much all of her life up to the present, gives him enough context to know he shouldn't ask any questions regarding that part of her life. If she wants to tell him later, she will.
Later. There's not going to be a later, he realizes. Even if he manages not to bungle this encounter up, he's leaving for basic training in less than two weeks. And either he'll be selected for Erskine's experiment and who knows when he'll see her again, or... Or he'll come home a failure, and won't want to see her again anyway.
Best to just make the most of their meal together, then.
"People... Well. I was gonna say people are pretty good at helpin' each other out around here, but. Maybe that depends on what part of town you're in. We try to look out for each other, though. Hopefully you can get your legs underneath ya real quick. It's..." He shrugged, a little helplessly. "We live in interesting times, as Mrs. Chen likes to say. Uh, a neighbor."
Words can't express how much she appreciates that he doesn't just latch on to the information she's given him about herself. So many other people would have asked about the orphanage or offered their sympathies for her hard life, but he just lets it slip past them. Perhaps he'll mention it later, but for now, she's been given a pass for which she's grateful.
She hopes there's a later. It's stupid, she knows what lies ahead for him, knows how much she should stay away so as not to mess up the timeline even further. But there's a part of her that... Well, she's already inserted herself to his life this much, and depending which theory you ascribe to, maybe she'd always been there. Maybe the Steve she met years ago already knew her.
And that's as far as she lets herself go because that way lies Migraine City.
"A neighbor?" She'd much rather focus the conversation on him. "Do you live in one of the neighbors with a Chinese population?"
He's from Brooklyn, Coulson had mentioned it a thousand times, but hopefully it will keep things going. And hopefully, he'll assume she's looking for an area to settle in herself — she's Chinese by birth, after all.
"Oh, well." Steve shrugs at the question, feeling weirdly self-conscious. He's not used to talking about himself - he's not used to anyone showing an interest in him. And it's not like Bucky ever had to ask, he was always right there with him. Steve didn't make friends, really.
"It's not--well yeah, there's a few Chinese, it's really just all the 'unwanted' immigrants." His tone of voice shows that's not his own choice of description. "Irish, Chinese, Italian, but that's mostly if they're Catholic really. Bucky - that's, he's my best friend - he's Italian Catholic. I think a lot of the families meet on different jobs, looking for a place to stay that's cheap. My dad was already there when he and Ma met, so."
He shrugs again. "It's a little melting pot, inside the big melting pot of the U.S."
"It sounds really nice," she comments quietly, an almost wistful quality to her tone. She means it. A neighborhood of the 'unwanted' of society, with people looking out for each other, helping each other... Not once in her life has she lived somewhere quite like that. Hell, she's never really lived in a neighborhood where she got to know her neighbors. The closest she'd ever come was living on a SHIELD base and that wasn't quite the same.
"I hope I find somewhere nice like that to stay," she continues, a bit brighter now. "I'm in a hotel right now and it's... It's cold and impersonal. I've never really had a home before, and I think I'd like to now, for however long it lasts."
What she says gives him pause. It's not exactly suspicious, but he feels cautious about the situation. It wouldn't be the first time someone's looked at him and thought 'easy mark.' But that's not the feeling he gets. He has been told on occasion that his gut reaction is to believe the best in people though, and it's not even something he can dispute. But Daisy sounds so sincere, and her later comment about finding a place to stay doesn't sound wheedling or asking for pity or charity.
"I... I mean, if you want, I can ask around, see if there's somewhere. Or, well... pretty soon my apartment will be empty." He waves the papers he's still clutching a little. "I'll be heading off for some training, you could stay at my place then. Not for another couple weeks almost, but still. Somethin' to look forward to?"
Their conversation has taken them from the edge of the fair down a few side streets, and now Steve pulls to a stop, and gestures up at the marquis of a little diner. "Speaking of; food."
The way he just came out and offered her his apartment when they'd only just met, and when he had no idea if things would work out in the future... What kind of person did that? A good one, she thinks, the type of person who would give someone the shirt off their back if they needed it more.
Stopping beside him and glancing briefly up at the sign, Daisy gives Steve a grateful smile, trying to make sure that he understands her sincerity. "You're really sweet to offer that," she tells him. "If you wouldn't mind asking around, I'd appreciate it."
And then, her smile brightening almost comically, she steps up to the door, not waiting for any potential sign of chivalry; she can open her own doors. "But now, food."
After her thanks, Steve watches her for a couple more seconds; he really should have opened the door for her, but he would have been comically late even if she'd given him the chance, so he's only a little put-out by it. Daisy's something different, and combined with his usual bumbling attempts at interacting with women, he's definitely thrown for a loop. But it's... kind of nice. She's not some date he's trying to impress, mostly to save Bucky's reputation instead of his own, or even that he has any romantic inclinations towards her - she's gorgeous, but Steve's lived his whole life with barely even any friends, he'd feel lucky if he got even that much from her, and he certainly wouldn't expect anything more just because she's the opposite sex.
Plus, he'll be leaving soon, he remembers, glancing down at the papers as he follows her into the diner. Glancing around, he sees they'e arrived somewhere between 'empty' and 'dinner rush'. There are several people, single and in groups, dotted around at the various tables and booths, but it's not packed. Probably there's only this many people because it's close to the Fair.
Steve taps Daisy's arm and gestures to a table free against the wall - a little tucked away from the major traffic spots, in view of the window but not spotlighted in it from outside. It is, essentially, a place to sit and be hidden in plain sight, something he doesn't realize he does, but something he prefers nonetheless.
"So, did you catch the Stark expo earlier?" he asks. "It was pretty wild." And he doesn't just mean the not-flying flying car.
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She asked-- she asked him a question, right! "Oh, uh-- y-yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just uh, need to watch where I'm goin', I guess. Sorry, was a little distract-- my papers!" He looks around wildly, but thankfully the buildings in this area are close enough there's not much wind; Steve scurries over to grab them from the few feet away they'd fluttered, counting them frantically before clutching them to his chest--
...and realizing just how idiotic he must look. "Uh, sorry. These are-- very important, I don't want to lose them."
Taking a chance, since she already offered him a hand up, Steve sticks his own hand out. "I'm Steve. Steve Rogers."
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Steve Rogers. She can see the resemblance now, the facial features that will stay the same even when the rest of him changes. But she can also hear the same cadence in his voice, see the difference in the way he holds himself, and her mind is just racing at all of it.
He hasn't taken the serum yet. He has no idea what lies ahead of him. None of them do. The way he'll help to win the war, the legacy he'll leave behind, the way he'll disappear from the world only to be found again... She recalls the first time they met after SHIELD had fallen, and suddenly there's so much irony to the situation that she has to give the universe credit for its sense of humor. He'd been the strong powerhouse of SHIELD and she'd been a new recruit finding her way; now their situations are completely reversed.
Before more than a few seconds pass, she shakes herself out of her stupor and takes his hand, giving it the solid shake she gives everyone she meets. What she doesn't hesitate to do is give him a name that she wishes she'd had that first time: "Daisy Johnson."
Okay, maybe there's a bit of stupor left because that's all she manages before she's just sort of staring at him again in something like awe. Sorry, Steve. She'll be embarrassed about this later but right now she's just really overwhelmed.
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So yeah, this is as polite as it usually gets, but it still-- it makes him angry, his hand clenching on his enlistment papers still held in his other hand, jaw clenching. He should've known one potentially-good thing wouldn't suddenly change his luck for the better.
But then she grabs his hand with the most enthusiastic handshake he's sure he's ever gotten - he can't stop his eye from wincing slightly at the strength, and kinda hates himself because isn't he always telling Bucky he's not fragile, he's not made of spun glass, he can handle some rough treatment, but damn, she's enthusiastic.
Steve blinks at the look she - Daisy, is still giving him. It makes him slightly uncomfortable, but he can't pinpoint why. Maybe just because he's never had whatever emotion is on her face directed at him before.
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Johnson. Uh, sorry for bumping into you, I was..." Not sure what to say, he eventually waves the papers around with a slight smile. "I just-- I got some good-- some unexpected news."
He won't jinx it by saying it's good, because it's a foot in the door, but it's not a sure thing yet. And he's not gonna tell someone he's just met that he got accepted into the army - he's already had to sign a nondisclosure agreement about the training itself, and nobody would believe him if he just said "I'm in the army now." She'd probably march right into the recruitment office and demand to know what kind of joke they're playing.
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Okay, Agent Johnson. Snap out of it. Be in awe of Coulson's soon to be idol later.
"Something you've been waiting for?" she questions with a small but genuine smile. There's a knowing look in her eyes and a hint of amusement in her expression that isn't the least but malicious. She doesn't remember the details of the timeline of Steve's journey before the end of the war but she'd bet good money that this has something to do with Project Rebirth. Not that she can say that, of course... and neither can he. "Congratulations. I hope it works out for you."
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But Daisy doesn't ask. She seems to accept what he's said at face value, and... congratulates him. Just like that. Steve can't help frowning at that suspiciously as well, but quickly smooths his expression out. She's being nice, and no matter what the reason is for it, even if she is about to turn around and mock him, he wouldn't feel right being rude to her first.
"Oh, thanks. I— it's not positive yet, but there's a chance... Y'ever get a good feeling about something, like maybe even if the odds are stacked against ya, you're gonna beat 'em? That's..." he waves the papers around a little, as if to showcase that this is what he's talking about, even though she doesn't know what they are. "That's how I feel, right now. About this opportunity."
He shuffles a little, unsure what else to say. God, he doesn't know how to talk to girls. Despite all of Bucky's coaching, he's never had the chance to really practice. And she's... Well, she's pretty. She's so pretty, dolled up with long hair in curls, looking like she's out to have a good time.
Probably here with a date. Maybe even a boyfriend. Figures. First girl who, from all appearances genuinely doesn't mind talking to him, and she's probably got someone.
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He'd never stopped trying. She's seeing him now in the moments before he even has a sure thing in his hand but he's still so damn excited just to have the chance. And... she gets it because she's been there. He beat those odds and so she did she.
Something in her chest tightens and she knows she has a choice to make. She can hear Mack's voice in her head warning caution and she takes all of a second to make her choice. Too much time and she'll lose this chance.
Ripples, not waves. Ripples, not waves. Ripples—
"Then we should celebrate," she informs him, smiling brightly and jumping headfirst into what might be a really bad idea. But when has that ever stopped her before? "Let me buy you something to eat. Or drink. Part apology for running into you and part congratulations."
There's nothing but sincerity in her tone and expression but there's some part of her that still worries he won't accept. She hopes he does. Jump with her, Steve.
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His second thought, after deciding that she does still seem to be talking to him, is to squint at her a little suspiciously. It's not unheard of for a dame to pay for her own stuff in a group outting, or even if it's just two friends. But "You don't even know me. You don't gotta pay for me."
Shoot, that sounds really rude, though. "I mean, I appreciate the gesture," as completely foreign as it is, "but it's not really... necessary..."
And then his inner Bucky pops up. You moron! What're you doin', turnin' down a classy dame who wants to go out with you! I don't care if it's just a friendly gesture, it means spending time with you, in public! First you think she's taken, or at least out of your league, and now she's intimating she's not, and you're turning her down?! Rogers, you're killin' me!!
God, even his inner Bucky is a drama queen.
"I mean-- that is-- I wouldn't mind getting a bite to eat." He finishes lamely. He glances around the park. "Maybe not here, though. Their prices are ridiculously high. But I, uh... there's a place a few blocks away?"
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There. Finally. For half a second, she considers mentioning that this place is fine, she's got money, but— That won't put him at ease. She wants to talk with him and they can't do that comfortably here. So she smiles again and nods, relief clearly written across her face if he bothers to notice it.
"That sounds great," she agrees. "I'm, uh, kinda new in town, so lead the way."
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Hearing that she's new here actually does put him a little more at ease. Sure New York City still gets all sorts of immigrants, both foreign and American from other parts of the country, but Steve's never really had much cause to meet any of them before, unless they move to his little section of Brooklyn. And if they've made it that far, usually they're already fairly jaded. Daisy's just... nice. Not in a naive sort of way, but... friendly, optimistic, in a way most New Yorker's aren't. Hell, as polite and sometimes annoyingly optimistic as Steve himself is, he's not all that friendly sometimes.
"Okay, sure. It's not, nothin' fancy really, but fresh food, tastes pretty good. Which is harder to find sometimes than you'd think," he confides. They are going from a national depression straight into war rationing, so it's a bigger achievement than it might normally sound like. But who knows, maybe she's from some small town where fresh produce is easier to come by than the over-crowded, industrialized City.
With that in mind, he tries to make some casual conversation. "So, where're you from? Just, upstate, or? Visiting some family, or movin' here for somethin'?"
...Is that too personal to ask someone you just met? God, he can't remember what's polite when faced with a... well, a pretty face.
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"I actually lived here when I was younger," she answers smoothly, constructing the lies upon foundations of truth to make them easier to sell. "At Saint Agnes Orphanage."
Part of her aches to say the words out loud. Even after knowing the reason her childhood had been the way it was, the ties to SHIELD that had helped keep her safe, she still can't forget how much those years had scarred her. But that's not what today is about now.
"I moved away a while ago and I'm only back now for work," she elaborates easily. "I'm, uh, not sure how long I'll be in town, but it's nice to meet people while I am."
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Later. There's not going to be a later, he realizes. Even if he manages not to bungle this encounter up, he's leaving for basic training in less than two weeks. And either he'll be selected for Erskine's experiment and who knows when he'll see her again, or... Or he'll come home a failure, and won't want to see her again anyway.
Best to just make the most of their meal together, then.
"People... Well. I was gonna say people are pretty good at helpin' each other out around here, but. Maybe that depends on what part of town you're in. We try to look out for each other, though. Hopefully you can get your legs underneath ya real quick. It's..." He shrugged, a little helplessly. "We live in interesting times, as Mrs. Chen likes to say. Uh, a neighbor."
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She hopes there's a later. It's stupid, she knows what lies ahead for him, knows how much she should stay away so as not to mess up the timeline even further. But there's a part of her that... Well, she's already inserted herself to his life this much, and depending which theory you ascribe to, maybe she'd always been there. Maybe the Steve she met years ago already knew her.
And that's as far as she lets herself go because that way lies Migraine City.
"A neighbor?" She'd much rather focus the conversation on him. "Do you live in one of the neighbors with a Chinese population?"
He's from Brooklyn, Coulson had mentioned it a thousand times, but hopefully it will keep things going. And hopefully, he'll assume she's looking for an area to settle in herself — she's Chinese by birth, after all.
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"It's not--well yeah, there's a few Chinese, it's really just all the 'unwanted' immigrants." His tone of voice shows that's not his own choice of description. "Irish, Chinese, Italian, but that's mostly if they're Catholic really. Bucky - that's, he's my best friend - he's Italian Catholic. I think a lot of the families meet on different jobs, looking for a place to stay that's cheap. My dad was already there when he and Ma met, so."
He shrugs again. "It's a little melting pot, inside the big melting pot of the U.S."
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"I hope I find somewhere nice like that to stay," she continues, a bit brighter now. "I'm in a hotel right now and it's... It's cold and impersonal. I've never really had a home before, and I think I'd like to now, for however long it lasts."
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"I... I mean, if you want, I can ask around, see if there's somewhere. Or, well... pretty soon my apartment will be empty." He waves the papers he's still clutching a little. "I'll be heading off for some training, you could stay at my place then. Not for another couple weeks almost, but still. Somethin' to look forward to?"
Their conversation has taken them from the edge of the fair down a few side streets, and now Steve pulls to a stop, and gestures up at the marquis of a little diner. "Speaking of; food."
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Stopping beside him and glancing briefly up at the sign, Daisy gives Steve a grateful smile, trying to make sure that he understands her sincerity. "You're really sweet to offer that," she tells him. "If you wouldn't mind asking around, I'd appreciate it."
And then, her smile brightening almost comically, she steps up to the door, not waiting for any potential sign of chivalry; she can open her own doors. "But now, food."
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Plus, he'll be leaving soon, he remembers, glancing down at the papers as he follows her into the diner. Glancing around, he sees they'e arrived somewhere between 'empty' and 'dinner rush'. There are several people, single and in groups, dotted around at the various tables and booths, but it's not packed. Probably there's only this many people because it's close to the Fair.
Steve taps Daisy's arm and gestures to a table free against the wall - a little tucked away from the major traffic spots, in view of the window but not spotlighted in it from outside. It is, essentially, a place to sit and be hidden in plain sight, something he doesn't realize he does, but something he prefers nonetheless.
"So, did you catch the Stark expo earlier?" he asks. "It was pretty wild." And he doesn't just mean the not-flying flying car.