One-Shot Wednesdays -Caught in The Storm (Patreon)

  Here's another one for our bi-weekly One-Shot Wednesdays!

· Brontophobia: Our muses are caught in a storm together.

[Vicky of tumblr requested this prompt with Rogers]

Disclaimer: I do not own the character of Steve Rogers or the fictional kingdom of Wakanda nor do I own the character T'Challa mentioned. These belong to Marvel; this is a work of fan-fiction. :) -Brittany

“I did not know it could rain this hard in Africa,” I exclaimed as I took shelter in my husband’s arms underneath the Wakandan shield he held over us while buckets poured down upon us.

“Learn something new every day,” he mused.

“Guess so,” I muttered softly. The thunder rolled overhead and it sent a shiver up my spine.

“You okay?”

“Fine. Guess the chilly air and the combination with the thunder really just went through me.” I looked up at him. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m thinking we should try and get on the move. If we get soaked we could get sick, and if lightning starts well that shield is vibranium it’s metal like a conductor. We could be fried.”

“Mm good point,” he noted. I watched his blue eyes scan the horizon as best he could through the downpour. “We’re gonna need to make a run for it.”

“Okay,” I murmured as I let go of him to stand to my feet. 

But he shook his head. “I need to carry you.”

“But—” I began to protest though his look silenced me.

“The likelihood of us getting back to shelter before this thing gets worse and fries us like you said is high. I can run faster; I’ll carry you to safety.”

“But we’ll get soaked,” I pointed out.

“Better wet than barbequed Britt!” he teased a little.

“Yeah but if this is your excuse to get me all wet then—” I stopped and withdrew my teasing suggestive commentary, “Let’s do it.”

“On the count of three—” On two he had already picked me up; the shield withdrawn and on three he was running. I had to press my face against his uniform to prevent myself from getting an unwanted drink of water from the speed we were moving.

We were lucky; only two more minutes and he’d gotten us back to the nearest village. Another minute after that and we were inside and out of the rain.

Steve put me down and I gazed at him with a smile. “We made it!”

“Y-yeah,” he stammered with a smile and a shiver.

“Babe I think you’re going to catch a cold,” I muttered with concern.

“Never. Not so long as I’m still 6’2 and—”

“Oh yeah, yeah,” I muttered sarcastically. I’d heard it all before. “I get it you’re a super soldier and you don’t get colds. Yadda-yadda. Forgive me for my momentary lapse in judgement when I saw you shiver.”

“Forgiven,” he returned with a smile. “Look just because I won’t get ill doesn’t mean I’m not cold. And it doesn’t mean you won’t catch a cold. So you should get warm like hop in a shower stat –clothes and all.”

I looked down at my soaking uniform, considering. A second later he scooped me back into his arms carrying me to our suite where we were currently staying in King T’Challa’s palace. I chuckled and gave in.

“Also I was thinking,” he muttered as the door closed and locked automatically behind us, “just because I won’t catch a cold doesn’t mean I can’t join you in warming up under the hot water you know...”

My eyebrows raised. “Uniforms on, soldier,” I reminded him.

“Rogers that—”

I laughed at our inside joke. “Yes Rogers that! Over and out!”