thequitecontrary | A Bath and More

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steve trevor

A Bath and More

Mary was supposed to meet Steve for afternoon drinks at a bar in his part of town, which Mary was happy to describe as 'working class' and not seedy in any way. It had taken a bit of convincing to be allowed out without a chaperone. Consequently, Martha knew about Mary's late night outings with Steve. The old woman was no fool. They had a sit down conversation about it, in which Martha acknowledged that Mary was a young lady, old enough to be considered an adult who would make her own choices. Her only advice was that Mary be discreet and not do anything that might get her into trouble. Martha realized that it was a new world after the war and that women were expressing their freedoms, her own granddaughter among them. If Mary wanted to be out with a man, so be it. Have her dalliances. But be careful. Apparently, Martha did not see this relationship in the long term.

Mary saw it a bit differently. She and Steve had spent a lot of time together and she could tell that she was starting to fall for him. They had fun together and he made her feel comfortable. He was kind and courteous and always a gentleman. He made her laugh and he made her think. And of course, he was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. The only thing that may have made him unsuitable was his social class.

Steve arrived a bit late to their meeting and Mary was dismayed to find him covered in engine grease. He apologized profusely and said that he'd had to do some unexpected work on the airplanes. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his work clothes since he knew that he was going to have to take a bath. Mary was invited back to his flat while he cleaned himself up.

She was excited to get to see where he lived. The building was nondescript, and they climbed two flights of stairs inside before he let her into one of the apartments. Mary looked around as they entered. It was humble, but clean and tidy. At least he wasn't crammed into one of those tenements.

"It's lovely," she said, honestly meaning it, even if she couldn't picture herself living in a place like this.

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"Really?" Steve's brow rose in clear surprise. He hadn't often gone to Coney Island himself, but he had to admit it didn't strike him as the sort of place someone from her social circles would enjoy. Then again, he had taken her to a number of places that didn't quite align with people of her social status, and she had always enjoyed herself. Besides, it was a whole new world after the war. Perhaps the sight of a Lady at a fair wouldn't be so strange after all.

He nodded, smiling at her. "Then I'll take you there. Next week, on my day off?" He suggested as he finished tying up her corset.

His surprised startled her for a moment. "Of course. You don't think I like to have fun?"

It occurred to her briefly that maybe the place was inappropriate for a woman like her. She wouldn't feel unsafe there, not with Steve with her.

Mary grinned, glad that he had agreed and that they had something else to look forward to. Once her corset was tied, she went to retrieve her dress and shoes from the bathroom.

"No– I know for a fact that you like to have fun." Even when it involved going places and doing things inappropriate to a woman of her station. Maybe especially then, even. Something that he liked rather a lot himself, honestly.

Buttoning up his own shirt the rest of the way, he tucked it into his trousers and went to put on socks and shoes, then moved to the kitchen to prepare them something quick to eat while she finished getting ready.

Mary turned to him, her eyebrows raised. "And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked. She was sure it was a tease about the activities that they did together and not about the fact that Mary had enjoyed sex with him. Steve was the only one who would be experiencing that sort of "good time".

After pulling her dress up over her hips, Mary buttoned up the front and checked the mirror to make sure that it looked smooth. She then grabbed the pins that went in her hair and began to put it back up. Hopefully her grandmother hadn't paid terribly close attention to how it had been done that day.

Steve chuckled from the kitchen at the tone of her question. "That is supposed to mean that... you like going to crowded clubs, dancing, drinking, kissing me in quiet little corners, going out on walks in the middle of the night..."

He trailed off, faint sounds coming from the kitchenette as he got some bread, butter and cheese ready for them. Glancing over his shoulder once he heard her step out of the room, he smiled crookedly. "You also seemed to greatly enjoy what we just did."

Mary blushed deeply at his words. "I-Is that a bad thing?"

Popular sentiment was that women who liked such things were improper, or, at worst, whores. That wasn't her at all. She had enjoyed what they had done together, but only because it was with Steve. Mary wouldn't want to do it with anyone else but him.

Steve had to chuckle at that, shaking his head in an overly dramatic way that, along with the sarcastic tone to his voice, made it plenty obvious that his answer wasn't true at all. "Yes, I think it's just horrible when the woman I love enjoys having sex with me."

God forbid anyone else but himself take pleasure from such an experience. Seriously, though, after she had been intimate with him and seen just how intent he'd been on giving her pleasure and not making her feel any pain, she could've very well answered her own question.

Mary put her hand on her chest. She could tell that he was joking, but it was still somewhat of a surprise.

"You have such modern views, Steve. I don't think you're wrong, but it simply surprises me to hear them sometimes. My world is very conservative."

The British aristocracy, as a whole, were still mostly stuck in the Victorian Era. Being young, Mary wasn't quite there herself, but it was still hard to overcome the way that she had been raised.

"Oh, you know. We Americans are all completely shameless," he said, all amusement and not with much truth to it. Honestly, Americans could be just as backwards about some things, namely as far as women's rights and standing in society went.

He set the food down on the table, as they still should have enough time to eat calmly before he had to take her back home. "I think... there's a lot that needs to change. I think it's a stupid double standard that it's fine, sometimes even encouraged, for men to lose their virginity before marriage, but if a woman does that she's immediately judged. That a single woman with a child is glanced at sideways, even if she works herself to the ground to provide for her child. That women shouldn't be allowed to vote, or to be with each other rather than a man if they choose to." He shrugged. "So long as they're not causing anyone else any harm or trespassing on their own freedom, people should be allowed to very well do whatever they please."

"Mostly shameless," she said with a smile. He was joking, but she was only partially. Americans had always seemed a little uncouth, but Steve was not like that at all.

What he had to say was shockingly forward thinking, especially the bit about two women being together. That was a thing that she had heard of, but had obviously never known anyone who participated in it. "It does seem silly about men and women losing their virginity," she said. "After all, men must be losing their virginity to someone. And yet women are punished. I suppose it is because they are the ones who can get pregnant." And are thus saddled with a child that the father may or may not claim.

To be fair, Steve didn't know any either, not that he knew of for sure at least. There were two very nice women living together just a few floors down from him, and while he had his suspicions, it was their life, and not for him to pry. He was sure he had to have known at least one or two men who didn't fancy women either, but again, none of his business.

"Or just a consequence of a patriarchal society," he said openly, even if he knew these were the sorts of comments that would get him a few side eyes from some people. "I've got a problem with the general consensus that women are, for some reason, inferior to men."

Mary was surprised, but pleased, to hear this opinion from him. How many men did she know who actually thought that? Not many. And she could tell that he genuinely believed that and wasn't simply putting on for her.

"Did you ever speak with my sister about women's issues?" she asked, taking a bite of the bread.

Steve thought it took a very small man to need to make women feel inferior just so he could feel better about himself, more powerful too. He liked a woman with a mind, with ideas and thoughts and who could hold a conversation, but could also lift up a wrench or a rifle if she wanted to. Who could tie her hair back and head out to work every day like any man could, without having to somehow fight for it— for the very right to be considered an equal.

He shook his head at the question. "I never spoke much to either of your sisters. I saw Sybil around more often, but we didn't often talk. The other one... Lady Edith, was it? We only ever exchanged pleasantries."

"Sybil is a suffragette," Mary said. "She went to a rally once and got injured when the crowd became rowdy. Our chauffeur had to get her out of there." Mary paused as she chewed. "He is her husband now."

It occurred to her that Steve would very much like Sybil and some little part of her was glad that her sister was married. If he spent too much time with her, Steve might discover that she was much more the type to do than Mary was. Of course, that wasn't to say that she couldn't learn.

Mary snorted outright when he mentioned Edith though. "I'm surprised you were able to exchange even that with her."

Steve's brow rose a little, and he nodded as Mary explained. He hadn't gotten that much out of her, admittedly, but it was interesting to hear now. And honestly, he wouldn't care even if Sybil weren't married. She could have been perfect on paper for him but he loved Mary. The fact that they weren't similar or didn't always think the same way would never change that.

"Is he?" He couldn't keep a hint of amusement from bleeding into his tone. Not quite the thing he expected to hear. "Do you worry all Hell will break loose if you bring a US soldier home with you?" It was a serious question. He had no doubt Sybil marrying a chauffeur had stirred things up, so it was only normal that Mary worried about causing a similar uproar.

At her remark about Edith, he simply shrugged. "We rarely ever crossed paths, but it seemed rude not to say good morning."

"Actually, no," Mary replied. "It has helped me. I know how to approach my father about it now. You are a decorated US soldier who has a successful career." And that was exactly how she was going to frame her unconventional choice, by listing every practical and positive thing that she could about Steve so that her father would have no points left to argue. Mary would convince him to see her side eventually.

"Edith and I have never gotten along," she continued. "We've always been rather nasty to each other." And after she wrote to the paper about the Pamuk affair, Mary didn't see that changing any time soon.

Steve nodded at her explanation, smiling in slight amusement to the spin she put on her words. They weren't a lie, obviously, and it made perfect sense for her to focus on the more positive aspects about him, when there was already so much about him her parents would frown upon. Her father more so than her mother, Steve would wager. "Suppose that's right, yes."

Getting them some juice to drink, he sat down on the table, arching an eyebrow at her. "I'm sorry to hear," he said, though he evidently didn't know the whole story. "Maybe it'll change in the future. Family's important."

"It's absolutely right," Mary said. "My father taught me to be a rational human being. I'm sure he never imagined that it would be used against him though."

She nodded, conceding that family was indeed important. That was why her father's approval meant a lot to her. "What about your family?" she asked tentatively. Steve hadn't talked much about them, but that didn't mean Mary wasn't curious to know.

"Well, you can be pretty sharp like that. I'm sure he knows you well enough that he won't be terribly surprised." Steve said it fondly, though. Mary was bright and resourceful, and while she was still conservative in some things, she knew how to make the best of her situation and use any and all tools and resources at her disposal. And if she happened to be doing that just to get Steve to be accepted by her family, then he sure as Hell wasn't about to complain.

He shook his head at her question, getting together a cheese sandwich for himself. "No one. Some distant cousins back in Illinois at best, but none I'm that close to. Can't even remember most of their names off the top of my head."

"No... mother and father?" Mary felt like she was treading on shaky ground, but it was information she wanted to know at some point. If now wasn't the time, she could understand that, but it mattered to her and she cared. "What happened to them?"

Steve shook his head around a mouthful of bread, not looking particularly bothered by the topic. If she wanted to know, though, then he would share. "My father's dead. Died before the war. I'm not sure where my mother is, or what she's been up to, but she's no longer in Illinois. Not that I know of. I moved away from home very young, when I joined the military."

Mary furrowed her brow as she looked at him. "Your mother... left?" She had trouble understanding that. Why would a mother leave her child? She couldn't imagine ever leaving a child of hers and not knowing what happened to them.

"After my father died," he clarified, in case she thought she had left while Steve was still a child. That hadn't quite been the case. "Their house... I think she could have never brought herself to stay there without my father, is all. We managed to stay in touch for a while, but with the war... I don't even know where to send any letters to, anymore."

Mary reached across the table and took his hand in hers. At least it wasn't when he was a child. She wouldn't have been able to bear that. "I'm sorry. Do you miss her?"

Why hadn't she tried to find him? Mary couldn't imagine never speaking to her mother again.

Steve took her hand, smiling warmly as he weaved his fingers through hers. "Sometimes," he admitted with a shrug. He hadn't seen her in a while, but she was his mother, and Steve had many fond memories of her. "Miss my father, too. But that's life."

He hesitated for a moment, thumb brushing across her palm, then finally decided to add. "Guess you're my family now. In a way."

A Bath and More

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