4282/You say goodbye, I say hello

You say goodbye, I say hello
Date of Scene:	16 April 2018
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	A funeral has Steve Rogers and Shiva meeing for the first time. They meet later in the evening to speak further, over dinner.
Cast of Characters:	Captain America, Lady Shiva

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Captain America has posed:
    Early Sunday Afternoon in Manhattan, and inside the beautiful St. Peter's Church the mood is somber. The pews are full with people wearing black, the feeling of sorrow is as palpable as the room is quiet. But when the service commences the pastor does a good job of drawing the people in and not just grieving the life that was lost in the passing of Joe Morita. He helps them come together and celebrate a life that was well lived.
    From his pulpit he stood there and elaborated on his time in the war, working as a commando and fighting against the stereotypes of the time. How he did his bit for the country, and went on to become an active public servant. He shared some old anecdotes about the man that shifted that feeling of sadness into one of nostalgia and the warmth of love. It was a lovely effort. And at its end he asked if anyone would like to speak on his behalf.
    Joe's grandson rose up and talked about his experiences with his grandfater, how he had such stories to tell. How he never questioned the strength and the love of his country. How he always served as a great example for the family. Even though he had a biting sense of humor. Other family members stepped forwards, and when it was friends... there were so few people to raise their hands. His having out-lived so many of them...
    And in the crowd one man in his green uniform furrows his brow, his hat in his hand and his eyes cast down. He'd arrived late, and stuck to the shadows in the corner, not in the pews but next to those broad oaken closed doors. He looked up and saw the testimonials coming to a close. And he frowned... then he steps forwards and clears his throat.
    "I'd like to say a few words."

Lady Shiva has posed:
    In the back pew is a woman who has no reason to be here. She didn't know the man. She is not a friend of anyone present. To be honest, Shiva has never met most of them. There is one present she knows by reputation alone and he is the reason she is sitting amongst the ocngregation. She's wearing a simple black pants suit, a heavier coat set on the pew next to her for when she outdoors. Her dark hair falls straight down her back. There are no tears in her eyes. No sniffles show her mourning for the man in the casket at the front of the cathedral.
    To the left side, six pews up, sits a man in his fifties or so. A friend of a friend of the deceased. He is a retired Marine who teaches martial arts now for a living. Or so the website said. He is supposed to be rather good at it, according to his advertising. The few things she has seen, she disagrees. He is a man who takes money from others while claiming to be a master. She was able to learn that he was in the military. Dishonorable discharge for inappropriate behavior including violence and harassment.
    Soon, they will meet. For now, she has been following him discreetly, to learn more and be sure he will be her next target. Her whims are legendary. He may yet survive. Or not.
    As the man by the door speaks, she turns her head to look at him. As do many in the congregation. A few whispers go up but are quickly quieted due to the somberness of the setting but many recognize Steve Rogers.
    She has heard of him. Seen footage. His skills are legend. His tale even moreso. Yet, she has never sought him out. He is a fighter but not of the same type as the circles she travels. Yet she finds herself watching closely now that he is nearby.

Captain America has posed:
    The man in green walks forwards down the aisle, his footsteps quiet as he gives a nod to the people he passes when they meet his eyes. He's tall, and just as somber as the crowd while he moves. But he does pause to rest a hand on the shoulder of Joe Morita's grandson, a man he's spoken to before some time ago. Some quiet words are exchanged, and from afar Shiva might well be able to read them in that he's asking for permission to step forwards. The family gives it to him with small nods given in return.
    It's only then that he ascends to the podium to the side of the casket. His hat set down upon the lectern as he looks out over the crowd one way, and then the other. He clears his throat then says into the microphone. "Hello. My name's Steve Rogers."
    He looks across the room, then his blue eyes settle on the family again before he continues. "I only knew Joe for a handful of years. During the war we fought together, and he was one of the bravest men I knew."
    He clears his throat again and then chews the inside of his cheek for an instant as he looks down, then back up again as if he made up his mind. "There were times when he saved my life, when his insight save all of our lives. He never shied away from putting himself forwards for the most dangerous missions. And through it all..." He gets this almost wistful look as his smile spreads, and perhaps his eyes shine just a touch. "He'd have such a smile. As if he knew a secret that no one else did..."
    Steve shifts his weight to the other foot. Looking down for a moment he chews his lip then looks up and says through his own smile which looks a little rueful. "Through no fault of his own we didn't talk for a long time."
    A low chuckle comes from the crowd as they probably know why. But he goes on and he says, "But when I was able to, I was so glad that I could see him again. So I went to where he was staying..." He lifts a hand to the side and then gestures forwards as if the man himself was there again. "And I looked across the lobby for him. Tried to pick him out amongst everyone. And it just took me one second. Since as soon as I was there... I saw that smile of his again. I'll never forget it."
    He stops abruptly and swallows a few times, then looks to the side and only then back out to the crowd as he takes a deep breath. "So, I just wanted a chance to say goodbye. Here's to you, Joe. I'll miss you."
    That said the tall man steps down and the faces of the people there are warm, very warm, there's a faint sound of a clap. But then the youth is hushed quietly. But Steve, he goes back to his place near the door... and stays there for the rest of the service.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    As the man walks to the front, Shiva tracks him with her gaze. Each touch of a shoulder, the words murmured to the family. Then he is up front and speaking.
    The words are heard and weighed. He thought a lot of the man they are here to pay their last respects to. Liked him even. The language is there. The remorse that he didn't get to know him better, that their time was so limited. The honesty that he is going to miss the man. It's strange. Others who have spoken were nlot always so honest. They said the words and cried the tears but a few honestly were more upset at something lother than his passing. It was impossible to tell what in this setting but their was some deceit involved.
    Steve Rogers is an exception to the rules. He is speaking from the heart. His body shares the pain more than the words, the pauses as he has to get his voice back under control so it doesn't break with emlotion. She finds herself actually wondering about the man who could cause such emlotions. Perhaps a moment of regret that she never met Joe. But no, it isn't him that she is the most curious about.
    That would be the man walking back down the aisle. She catches his eye as he passes, giving a faint smile and a brief nod. Then she continues to wait for the service to end. Her attention is now on the man in green instead, keeping track of him peripherally so she doesn't give away that he is being watched.

Captain America has posed:
    The service goes on a bit further, two... three more speakers. Each of them giving voice to their time spent with Joe. An old Asian man laughs about a drinking story where the guy got into a bar fight at the age of seventy and wiped the floor with the kids. Another tells about a time when he was able to fix his VCR using a piece of chewing gum. Just lovely stories shared until a hymn is called for, 'All the Way My Savior Leads Me' has everyone standing and offering their shared voice in testament to the man and his faith.
    Luckily, a young boy of four rushes over and hands Steve a hymnal and he smiles and ruffles the kid's head. That earns a wide smile even though the sadness is there for a moment, then Steve joins in with the song.
    It's another half hour and respects are paid with a procession. But it's at that point when the man in green turns away from the congregation and makes his way out into the foyer and then heads towards the side door that leads out towards the greenery and rose garden to the side of the church. It's just a sliver of a moment, the door opening wide and allowing the few fading beams of sunlight in, distant clouds already encroaching on the day with the promise of rain.
    It's out there that he walks, leaving the family and the mourners to say their goodbyes.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    During the hymn, Shiva does not raise her voice with the others. She does stand politely with the congregation when they do. During the procession, she slips out into the lobby area. Most people are clustered together with loved ones or friends. She remains to the side, taking a moment to sign the guest book to show she had attended. Later they might look and wonder who that was then just file it away to him having touched so many lives.
    She watches the people going through the procession then exiting. There is chatter and talk, muted for the setting. They get louder as they move outside into the world, heading for their vehicles or to catch a taxi outside and head back to their lives. Some will mourn. Others have already put it behind them.
    The green uniform draws her eye and she gives a moment then follows to the side door. Once outside, she steps to the right of the door. Not off the path, simply allowing for someone to pass if they wish while her eyes adjust to the glaring sunlight after the muted light indoors. Once her eyes adjust, she sees the tall figure walking amongst the garden and follows. Her black flat slippers make no noise as she moves. She has her jacket slung over her arm, not around her shoulders yet.

Captain America has posed:
    The man known as Steve Rogers knows to try and avoid crowds in certain settings. He's experienced too many times when his presence has been a detriment rather than a boon and it's doubtful the Morita family would appreciate dealing with reporters or fans if it became clear to some on social media that Captain America was there. So he's resigned himself to taking his time in the rose garden until the family has moved on to the wake, where they can have their peace and Cap... he keeps his to himself.
    Above them the clouds continue to shadow over the sun, lending that grayness to the world that promises the onset of rain. Perhaps a droplet here or there falls upon the petals of those so many roses, even as he walks among them. For a moment the tall man in green touches one and rubs a thumb over the petals, then the thorns. Some old thought conjured forth gives life to a hint of a smile.
    Nearby are a pair of clippers that hang on a small metal chain. He uses them to snip off one of the rose buds, then reaches into his pocket and digs out a five dollar bill that he puts in the donation box there for those who take roses.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    As a few drops of rain fall, Shiva doesn't seem concerned. She doesn't bother with her jacket still. Yet, she isn't going to leave it behind. She takes a path opposite of Steve. It arches to the left while the one he is on goes to the right. It allows her to see him, and he her, without them feeling like they are being crowded by the other.
    Simply two souls taking refuge in the lovely garden.
    At the end of the path where they converge, there is a small bench. She gets there first, as she wasn't stopping to admire the roses. She settles, the jacket being laid over the arm of the wrought iron bench. Her gaze is shifted to the man as he clips a rose. Perhaps he will be going to the graveside and use it there. Or maybe it is for a lady love. Impossible to tell. She watches his smile, the lines of his posture and the movements of his limbs.
    "What you said inside was lovely," she finally says, just loud enough to be heard. "I am sorry for your loss." Oddly, she is. How strange.

Captain America has posed:
    She can see the man, he would almost be entirely readable even if she didn't have that ability to perceive an individual through her many many years of training. He is an open book, and his sentiment is clear there upon his features as he looks up and focuses those blue eyes on her. For a moment there's a faint shadowing to his features, as he doesn't recognize her. Perhaps a small glimmer of suspicion as if for some reason... she set him on edge for some sub-conscious reason...
    But his own sentiment pushes past that hesitation as he takes several steps towards her and smiles gently, "Thank you," Then he lifts his chin slightly, "Did you know him well?" He asks, lifting his chin slightly to indicate the church and assuredly the man they are there to mourn.
    He looks into her eyes and she can see him trying to read something or perhaps see some semblance as he then adds, "Are you a descendant of his?"

Lady Shiva has posed:
    There is a negative shake of the head as Shiva remains seated on the bench. "I did not know him. I am a friend of a friend. I came here to support him," she says easily. "He needed some time to with the family so I thought to seek refuge here." She nods her head toward the garden. No lifting of her hand and waving it at the surroundings. Wasted movement. If it has no purpose, it is not done. The nod was a small consolation on her part. That lack of speaking with her body may be something he can pick up on. The quiet peaceful aura surrounds her. It almost fills the air within several feet on all sides, giving that zen sensation to those near her.
    Such a strange thing for a killer to have. He may be able to see the way her hands are marked as a martial artist, the slight callusing of the flesh on the blade of her hand. Other tiny hints that most wayward people wouldn't see. They are not Captain America with his years of experience either.
    "You fought alongside him when he was the age you appear to be, yes?"

Captain America has posed:
    He doesn't presume to join her or take the seat near her without invitation. Instead he remains standing with his own calloused hands at his sides, his hat under his arm neatly and held at his side. But as he speaks to her she might well be able to sense him, at least on some level, picking up on some of those cues. The way she is an isle of calm even here amongst the deceptively peaceful garden. Like her it is a thing of beauty. But like her it is also not without its thorns.
    "We did," He answers her and turns to look towards the church. The family are still at the front door, shaking hands with people as they depart. The pastor is moving around to each person in the crowd, thanking them each for coming. But Steve looks away and tells her, "Back in the war." Since there will always ever be only one war to him.
    Then he shifts the focus towards her as he gestures with one hand, "But it's a kindness, your coming in support of your friend. Funerals..." He stops here for a moment, then he seems to come up with a different set of words to explain what he means instead of what first popped into his head. "Well, they can be tough for everyone involved. Good to have people there to help shoulder the burden."

Lady Shiva has posed:
    Something about that amuses her. He is being honest. Truthful. He believes those things. Pity, she was being the exact opposite with her tale. But one does not become a master assassin without being able to play a role if needed. At least passingly well. The War. The one he was a part of. So many since that time. Named, unnamed. She's actually played a part in a few when someone needed to be eliminated and the price was paid. The soldier would be aghast as such details.
    She rises to her feet, slipping her coat back over her arm in the process. "Many who attend do so to be seen. It is a sad state. Only some truly mourn the passing, allowing the expression of their emotions to be shared with the like minded. It is sometimes hard to tell the difference." She gives a small smile. "You are genuine. It is refreshing."
    She takes a single step closer, glancing to the rose bud he had cut. "Is that for the one who will help you shoulder your burden when you leave this place?"

Captain America has posed:
    At the first few words she offers she can see the reaction of him to them. The way he sort of looks to the side as he accepts the truth of them, that sentiment that sometimes people aren't there for the right reasons. And she can almost witness the subtle internal argument of the man as he shakes his head and then looks back. It's almost as if some part of him tries to see the best not so much in the situation... but in the people.
    "It's still an act of respect. A testament to the person. Even if sometimes we get lost in ourselves." That wording, he includes himself as a person of possible weakness. A curious sentiment for a person as skilled as she has seen, or a person of such strength.
    But then she offers that observation of him and he laughs, looking away uncomfortably. "Well, not always a benefit in some circles, ma'am." That said he's perhaps caught off guard by that subtle shift of tone and the step closer.
    The rose bud is lifted and he looks to it, then her and then he shakes his head, "Oh, no. I mean..." He tilts his head to the side and looks at her curiously. For a moment it might be something akin to suspicion. But he steps back and to the side. It's an unconscious movement, as her body language seemed to be conveying this intent to... square up, to get and challenge the center line. And somehow, on some level he recognized it and shifted enough so that her options of striking were just a touch more limited.
    "I was going to put it in a book. Maybe dry it out. Take it with me for the next time I'm in England. Leave it there at an old friend's grave."

Lady Shiva has posed:
    His shift is noted and Shiva finds herself approving. Not one to be taken unawares, even in a situation such as this. Even though she is simply another mourner. Their dance is entertaining. She almost is tempted to step in close, get into his space, just to see what he would do. That would be unwise. It would potentially lead to conflict and that has no place here. She will let them all honor their dead this day. Even her prey who just slipped outside the building and is speaking with the family before waving down a taxi. She knows where he will be. His address. His dojo. No need to follow immediately.
    She focuses back on Steve. "You were admiring it in the entirety. Not simply the flower. Many see that, the obvious beauty in the petals. The perfection of their delicate folds." She glances to the bud then back up to him, that faint smile still there. "You admired the thorns. A man who understands you cannot have one without the other."

Captain America has posed:
    For the period of several heartbeats she can see him just looking at her, his brow furrowing as the puzzlement he feels overtakes his desire to be polite. So as his brow knits and he pockets the rose, thorns and all, into the pocket of his dress jacket... he eyes her sidelong and then with an abruptness that betrays the easy tone of his voice he asks her, "Who are you?"
    Just a direct query, no manners to it as if politeness were forgotten. And for a time it hangs there, there he smiles and shakes his head as he says, "Just. Sorry. You have a... way about you." That's polite, there, manners recovered.
    He extends his hand towards her and says of himself, "My name's, Steve. Steve Rogers." As if she couldn't read the last name on his jacket.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    That earns a soft laugh and Shiva turns slightly, making sure that her entire focus is no longer on him but instead the garden itself. "You are not the first to have noticed this. Nor will you be the last." Her eyes sparkle with amusement as she takes a step away down that path he had trod to reach this point. She brings up her black leather duster, slipping it on easily over the suit she is wearing. A flick of her hand pulls her hair out from under the collar, letting the black tresses fall down her back.
    She turns back toward him, giving him more a side view of her body than squaring off again. She offers her right hand. A handshake is appropriate in this country, after all. Even for one with his old fashioned values, if the lady offers first of course. "I am called Shiva. It has been a pleasure meeting you, Steve Rogers."
    There is a slight change in that aura around her. Something more electrical. There is nothing in her body language that shows aggressiveness. She truly intends no violence. But with the giving of her name, she has crossed the line into something other than friendly chatter. Not that she is known in most circles. Doubtful she is even wanted. A ghost and nothing more.

Captain America has posed:
    His own handshake and manner is controlled, still ever so polite even as his fingers curl around hers. The shake is slow, not aggressive in the least either even as he holds her eyes with his own. There's no glimmer of recognition at the name, at least perhaps in regards to her specific reputation. After all, Steve Rogers isn't a name known in martial arts circles beyond what one would hear of the Avengers. So in her world, there are relatively few who could say they have matched themselves against Steve Rogers. And none that could say they've won.
    "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Shiva." At the least he picks up on that enough to know not to try and call her 'Ms. Shiva.' His hand draws away and he looks to her with that same curious gaze and furrowed brow. He's 'aware' enough to feel that subtle vibe there with her, the potential of action, the hovering flirtation of violence. And it is not something he's familiar with even from someone like Widow.
    "Hopefully we'll be able to talk some time under better circumstances." He offers that, ever so polite and offering sentiment that meets what is expected of one.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    That gets a slightly raised eyebrow and another of those enigmatic smiles. She's amused by this entire situation for some reason. Not laughing at him. Simply the irony that the two of them are even speaking civilly considering how so different they are. She was here hunting. He is here mourning a lost friend. She is a killer. He has killed, but never for profit. Likely not for anger either. It was what he had to do as a soldier. A part of the role he had chosen for himself. Now, he was a hero. One of the most well known and popular. She was a ghost who barely existed in the world and merely was a storm moving through it. A force of nature, as she had often been described.
    That he means the words he says about meeting her another time? That's the strangest of all. "I should like that. I am unsure what common ground we may have but it would be pleasant to explore the possibility." She pulls a phone out of her pocket. It's a burner, a cheap model that can be bought at corner stores these days. She offers it. Most people would exchange digits, not provide an entire phone. Likely it will set off some warning bells. There is a single number programmed into it. It, too, is a burner but it will allow him to reach her if he chooses to do so. "Unless you would like to go over to Chinatown with me for lunch."

Captain America has posed:
    Despite the years he's been active with the Avengers, Steve is still at times struck by moments where he's feeling his years, feeling out of his depth or somehow missing something that others might accept as normal. To him this seems strange, and on another level he considers this might be a set up of some kind. It's feasible, as at times enemy operatives have tried to put a tracker on him to gauge his movement...
    So whatever this phone is, it'll most likely be subjected to a StarkTech sweep even as he accepts it with that same marginally confused trepidation. But his smile goes a good ways to perhaps helping her get past those flickers of wariness in his eyes. "I do have a phone... of my own." He offers, as if that might be a reasonable response. "So if you'd like the number..."
    But he doesn't hand the phone back over unless she seems to find his offer of his digits as acceptable. He looks to the side off in the distance for a moment as if considering the offer of lunch but he looks back towards her. "Lunch would be nice, but my time isn't entirely my own."
    Some women would take that for him blowing them off, but nothing about him seems to give over to deception. He mentally goes over his schedule, the places he needs to be, the people he needs to speak with. And it's only afterwards that he says, "But a late dinner, if you wish. Or coffee."

Lady Shiva has posed:
    The fact he would actually give her a phone number? Things just crossed into the Twilight Zone. He is Captain America after all. Of course, he could get a new one easily but it would be an inconvenience. Unless he was giving her the number for a burner phone. She shrugs nonchalantly and pockets the phone she was offering him. Another is pulled out of the opposite pocket. She unlocks the screen and opens the contacts then passes it over so he can add his under the name Steve Rogers. She already is at the entry screen so he doesn't see her contacts list. If there even is one on that phone. Probably not.
    The negative response is not a surprise. The offer for dinner is. He's serious. He actually isn't blowing her off and would be willing to meet later. She tilts her head slightly to the side. "Very well. Dinner." Then she gives that soft smile again. "Perhaps coffee after if we make it through the meal." It will all depend on what he manages to learn of her before that time. She has no doubt he'll be checking.
    Oddly enough, even if he did manage to figure out who she is precisely, she still would call and show up. She isn't intimidated. She probably should be but that is one thing Shiva does not lack is confidence in herself and her skills.

Captain America has posed:
    For a moment or two he's leaning over to the side, stepping to stand next to her shoulder as he types in the number so she can see that he's doing it as well. The way he uses the touchpad shows that he's not exactly a person with a high level of facility with them, some hunting and pecking are definitely going on. But once that's done he hands it back to her and offers her some shimmering light into the darkness of the man, the mystery, that is Steve Rogers.
    "So strange, nobody ever asks me for my phone number. Not sure why." But he leaves it at that and then steps back around to stand before her, "We'll talk later and figure out where to meet." He takes a step back, body language now clear that he's about to depart as he nods to her. "Thank you for coming to the service. Even if it was for a friend." That said he gives a warm smile and then he's turning and walking away from the mostly empty front of the church, walking to the wrought iron gate that separates the rose garden from the church itself.
    The gate clanks faintly as he opens it, closes it, then just before turning to set foot on the sidewalk he lifts a hand to offer a wave. And then he's walking away.

Lady Shiva has posed:
Several hours later...

    The restaurant that they had agreed upon was one of her favorites. It was well known in Chinatown. Usually reservations were needed at least two weeks in advance. However, Shiva had a bit of pull with the owner and soon they were written in for a private booth. That would allow them to be able to see much of the restaurant but they'd be toward the back and out of the hustle and bustle. Shiva thought that might be best considering who she was dining with. He might appreciate not having people staring at him the entire meal.
    The arrangements had been made by text. One would send something then the other would respond when they had a chance. There had only been twice all afternoon when they were able to send several messages back and forth real time. He was between tasks. She had finished setting up for her upcoming visit with the false master. It all depended on how he responded as to how that went. More often than not, it ended poorly.
    She had arrived at the restaurant first. They had agreed to meet there. It was more a friendly meal than a date, so to speak. She had dressed nicely but didn't go all out. A simple sleeveless, Asian style shirt in shades of pink. Black slacks. Those same black slippers on her feet. There was a small pot of tea and cups already at the table. She was sipping from hers as she waited.
    She didn't doubt he would arrive. He was not one of those people to stand someone up. Unless the world was ending. Then perhaps she would understand.

Captain America has posed:
    His texts were always fairly short and it's likely she could almost imagine him hunting and pecking the buttons on the digital display. But he seemed alright with meeting her there at the appointed time, and none of his duties seemed to interfere. For a brief moment during the team training exercise he had thought he might have had to stay late to shore up some teamwork issues, but it only took some repetition of the obstacle course to clear.
    So his mood had been positive, warm when he responded... though it's unlikely that came through. Even though he had considered whether or not this was a good idea. People had been telling him to get out and about, to try and have something of a life beyond the efforts of maintaining his training and a team as well as the occasional missions that would draw him out into the world as Captain America.
    But once it was over, he took a shower and changed out of his work out clothes and into casual clothes. Blue jeans, white sneakers, a grey t-shirt that has a small SHIELD logo and that brown leather bomber jacket. For a time he stopped in front of the mirror to look at himself. This wasn't a date. Was it? No it wasn't. Definitely wasn't. But maybe she thinks it is? And to be fair, he doesn't /dis/like her. Isn't sure if he likes her either. Yet it's undeniable there is something about her. Something strange. Could be a date? That's crazy talk.
    Eventually he decides to err on the side of caution and just heads out. He's rarely been into Chinatown, it'd be an excuse to see a part of the city that he doesn't travel to very often...
    And so it is that not too long after that the front door to the restaurant opens. And Steve Rogers is no stranger to having people stare at him. Though usually it's because people recognize him. The folks in the restaurant... might very well not. Though when he steps up to the maitre'd and asks about joining his party they're all smiles and accepting even as he's led on. Perhaps even a few of the people look over to see whom he is sitting with... and a marginal look of pity touches their features.
    Those are looks, however, he is ignorant of. "Shiva." He gives a nod to her as he settles into the seat opposite her, pausing only long enough to accept her hand should she offer it.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    A few of the people in the restaurant know her or her reputation. Others have no idea. A few do recognize Steve and they give him bright smiles then bow their heads at their tables, whispering animatedly that they got to see Captain America right there in Chinatown. He had made a few people's days just by coming here.
    As he arrives at the table, Shiva smiles and offers her hand. "Steve. It is a pleasure to see you again." She does actually motion to the seat opposite her in the booth. It is a position that allows him a greater view of the room itself. The position of advantage should something happen. She had left it for him on purpose, wanting to give him that sense of comfort by having his back covered. "Please. Sit."
    She nods to the tea pot already sitting on the table. "Would you like some tea?" She is lifting the pot to top off her own glass then holds it poised above the empty one in question. If he chooses not, she will simply set the pot down.

Captain America has posed:
    "Please," His smile comes forth as he nods towards the cup and he flips it over for her when she extends of herself to fill it. He settlese further into the booth, eyes drifting sidelong over towards the room. At the smiles from the people who recognize him he gives a small wave, and for one small Asian child who is standing up on the back seat of his booth and is /staring/ at Steve...
    Well he looks across the way and his smile grows a little warmer. He puts a finger to his lips and gestures a silent 'shh', then offers a wink before the kid /dives/ back under cover... only to peek back out a few minutes later.
    But Steve is looking back to Shiva at that point as he tilts his head, to the side, "I was thinking about what I should order all on the way over here, but I thought to myself that I should probably let you choose. I imagine you might have an idea of what's good and what isn't." He then catches himself a little and looks up and around, "Though... from the looks of this place I bet most all of it is pretty darn good."

Lady Shiva has posed:
    The tea is poured carefully into the cup then she sets the pot back where it had been on the tablecloth. Shiva glances at the restaurant. It has that almost stereotypical look to it with all the Chinese decorations and dark furnishings but there are cloth covers on the tables, fine plates and flatware. She turns back to him with a smile. "The restaurant has been here in Chinatown for about twenty years. They are often in the travel guides for their cuisine. I can order for you if you give me an idea of what you like but truly, you cannot order something that will not be a pleasure."
    She sits back comfortably, pulling her cup of tea over as she takes a sip before speaking again. "There is usually a wait list but I know the owners. The owners had a bit of trouble in the past. I helped to resolve the situation for them." The Triad know to leave the restaurant off limits after she had cleaned out a few of their ranks.
    She catches the eye of a server and the man comes over, offering them both a menu then taking a drink order if they should like something other than tea.

Captain America has posed:
    "Tea's fine," Steve says to the waiter as he turns back and peruses the menu. The writing is in Mandarin though there are pictures of the items at places as well as small advisory icons that perhaps defy his attempts at interpretation. He looks up and was about to try and catch the waiter's eye, but by that point the man is already moving on to another table.
    So the man who was Captain looks across the table to her and says, "I was thinking maybe the seafood platter? If you'd like to share. I don't think I could eat all of what's on there." Since, after all, it is meant for two to four people and is quite a plethora of foods to sample and taste. He scritches the side of his chin thoughtfully and then says, "Or just some noodles would be good."
    He looks up and meets her eyes above the cup of tea and admits, "I know, not terribly adventurous." The last time he was chided for ordering things so mundane, so he's expecting the critique.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    His expectations are not met. "That sounds perfect." She knows they won't be able to finish it, even with two of them. "They do have the best noodles though. We shall have them on the side. It will allow you to taste." While some might find noodles boring, she thinks of them as a staple. Just a simple bowl of noodles is something that brings her great culinary pleasure. They make everything here by hand so this may be a new experience for him. Seeing his reactions with that purity of movement? It should be a wonderful evening.
    She sets aside her menu near the edge of the table. It's a universal sign that they are ready to order. It's less than two minutes and the server is back to take their order before bustling off to the kitchen.
    "There is no reason to be adventurous in your culinary pursuits. If it is something you like, you should order it." She picked up on that little bit of something in his posture and the tone of his voice. "Did someone tell you otherwise?"

Captain America has posed:
    "I just have a bit of reputation for playing it safe," He looks across the table at her even as he takes his napkin and removes the small ring of its holder. Setting that ring aside he unfolds the fabric and then spreads it across his lap even as he shifts a touch to the side, "But I think it's more the company I keep and to whom I'm compared." Since really, when one is surrounded by the Avengers and particularly Tony Stark... well one can't help but seem a bit play-it-safey in comparison.
    He sniffs a bit, affectedly and then says, "I'm plenty adventurous." But he leaves it at that and adds, "The platter though, that looks... festive." And it does, what with the fish head and the lobster tails and the many many shrimp and scallops. Truly it looks like something that would be the focal point of a table.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    That earns a soft laugh as she smiles. "You are more adventurous than most people will ever be. Whomever has told you otherwise is a fool." She isn't one to not speak her mind. She will say what she thinks. Even if it is about his fellow Avengers. They may be friends but she isn't big on those either.
    "Like most things, eating is not limited to a single sense or even two. It is a celebration that is meant to tantalize them all," Shiva says as she sets down her teacup. She keeps her hand curled around it, arm resting atop the table. "There is taste and smell but also the way it looks. It should invite you into the dish, draw your attention to the colors and shapes. There is the sound of it sizzling with heat fresh from the oven or the bubbles in champagne as they rise to the surface and pop delicately. Texture is key. If you do not have that mix, the meal becomes boring and typical. It matters not what you order, it matters how it is presented and if it teases all your senses. Then it is a good meal, no matter how seemingly simple the ingredients."

Captain America has posed:
    As she speaks Steve listens and his eyes follow the movement of her lips, listening to the very faint hint of an accent to her words and seeing the sentiment reflected in her eyes. At the last few words he smiles and gives a small nod then says, "I believe that's a lovely philosophy." He says as he extends his small cup of tea towards her as if proposing that what she offered was a toast.
    Should she meet his cup there'll be a faint clink, even though he knows it might be a touch... gauche or plebian to someone of sophistication. But Steve is ever and likely always will be that same youth from Brooklyn.
    Another sip of tea is taken and then it's his turn to top off their drinks, nodding his offer to her and smiling. "That's strange, I was thinking something along the same lines when I was at the Met. Considering the composition of some of the installations. Their use of colour and texture." There's a pause then he adds with a small wryness to his features. "Though I didn't take a bite out of them to check how they tasted. To be fair."

Lady Shiva has posed:
    The toast is met. Whether people find it improper or not. The light clink of the porcelain together then they both sip the tea. She lowers her glass once more as she listens to him now. The subtle change as he mentions the art. He loves it. That is something she did not know. Shiva doesn't remember it ever being in the press. She flicks her gaze down to his hands, trying to determine if he might be an artist as well. Impossible to tell. The hands read more as a fighter. Her dark eyes go back to his blue as he teases.
    "I should hope not. I doubt canvas and dry paint are flavorful. Wet paint perhaps," she muses in a teasing tone. Then she continues. "You enjoy art galleries?" While she has been to a few, it was not something she was well versed in. She knew she liked what she liked but she couldn't discuss artists or pieces with any sort of education. She could, however, try to tempt him to do so.

Captain America has posed:
    "I do, and perhaps In another life..." He tells her, much like many other elements he left behind in the forties. The way he says it is warm, and advances the image of an acceptance, but she can tell he is perhaps not being entirely honest. But he presses on and the few other words liberate him from the hint of deception. "I still try my hand at it now and again. But I rarely sit down to work on it as much as I'd like."
    
    But then he proves that he's not entirely self-centered as he turns the conversation back towards her, "But yourself? Do you have some art you enjoy? Something creative you focus on in your down time?" Since he hasn't asked her what she does for a living, but Steve... he often feels that such things will come with time.
    Luckily that's when the waiter comes over, very deferential as he approaches and looks to take their order. Steve looks up and to the side, then back to Shiva. "The... platter?" And should she nod he'll point to it and gesture towards the man, then also indicates the noodles for the side. Hopefully that'll be enough to send the man back into motion.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    The nod is given and then the server is off to the kitchens to get their order in. They likely will be pushed to the head of the queue. It won't be long before they have their meal.
    Once he is gone, Shiva turns back to her dinner companion as she considers his question. "My passion is artistic, in my opinion. Others would tend to disagree," she says as she gives a faint shrug. It's the tiniest of movements but it is there. A true screaming of her feelings in that tiny moment.
    "I enjoy honing my body into a skilled instrument. I study martial arts." She realizes that he might be wondering what types of arts but the answer is truthful. She studies all of them. Has mastered them. There are things he does not know but they are fewer and far between these days. "I have dedicated my life to learning everything possible. I seek enlightenment and I feel it can be attained by absorbing all of the teachings to be had. It is quite the undertaking but it has been well worth it."
    Give or take the few people she's had to go through to get there.
    "At times, I share my knowledge with others to train them to be better versions of themselves." That's how she sees it at least. The dead ones might disagree.

Captain America has posed:
    The circles that Steve has traveled in, he's heard such sentiment before. Usually from exceptional individuals, those whom he has met working with operatives and warriors. And, to be fair, there is much of that to her. It was perhaps one of the facets that he was struggling to place, the way she held herself, the small tell-tale marks upon fists and arms. The taut musculature and the almost predatory manner she seemed to exude.
    "I've known a few individuals like that," He tells her, and she can once again see that oh so open transition of thought to words. Even as he looks at her more curiously now, and yes there's a touch of wariness there as he holds his cup of tea in both hands and sips. "Usually that's a path that's hard to travel for people. Takes its toll."
    He then reaches for the pot again and refills his cup, the steam from the tea wending its way upwards as he pours. He offers to refill hers as well then sets it back down with a faint ceramic click. "I'm something of a martial artist myself." He admits, surprising no one.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    A brief shake of the head as she declines the refill. Shiva still has plenty in her cup. Her smile is back as he reveals his secret. "I have heard you are quite formidable. Though you use many techniques, not simply the more Eastern style arts. There is much American fisticuffs, so to speak, in your style." Has she studied him? Not exactly but she's like everyone else and has seen footage of him on the news. He isn't one to be in the martial arts circles but he is often found with soldiers and agents. The ones he identifies with more than those such as herself.
    She toys with her cup a moment as she thinks about her path. It has taken a toll. At one time in her life, she was content. Then that was ripped away from her by a madman. After she confronted him, she set her foot on the road and became Shiva. "It is not a path for the weak of heart. It calls for many sacrifices. I believe your path is better. That line between the artist and the man."

Captain America has posed:
    "Well," Steve's still wary and he's looking at her, knowing she is speaking of matters he has not witnessed and sharing only small glimpses into the make up of who she is. Yet he tilts his head to the side even as he rests one hand upon the table top, the other is curled around his cup. "Perhaps someday we'll train together. I know there's still a mountain of things out there I could learn. Like all creation and works of art," His smile is warm and reaches those blue eyes, "Sometimes the trip is one that's better shared."
    After he says that he shifts his weight to the side and looks off across the room itself, looking at the crowd of people that are enjoying their dinner, the experience of an evening in each other's company. He gestures with a nod towards them and then adds, "They seem to think so at least," He offers, as if it was proof to his words.

Lady Shiva has posed:
    "Training can always be done. I would enjoy seeing if the man is equal to the legend," Shiva admits. She glances to the crowd as he does so. A brief nod then she is looking back to him. "Sometimes it is, indeed. We are all social creatures, even if we have chosen to follow a path that is solitary in nature. We need to interact with others, though it may take us off our course for a time." She is looking at him, noting he is a distraction from her purpose. But sometimes that sort of thing is needed. "The moments shared make the rest more tolerable," she admits.
    The server chooses that moment to arrive with a nice soup to start their meal off. Each has a small bowl placed in front of them. It is mostly browth with a few small dumplings added. Simple. Basic. The aroma rising with the steam off the soup fills the air with a wonderful smell.
    She leans forward to lean over her bowl, breathing in that scent and letting out a pleased sigh. Her dark eyes shine as she looks at him through the wall of steam. "Shall we begin this trip?"