in the shadows ? steve rogers

027 ? a smithsonian exhibit

"Uh-huh," Grace said with a nod before looking up at the man. "And what does this have to do with me, Mr. Abrams? I only designed weapons for the Army."

"And had been in a relationship with Captain Rogers," he replied making her purse her lips. "It was my understanding you had been on the radio with him when he... perished."

"I was."

"We at the Smithsonian were hoping you might help us in creating the exhibit," he said and she raised her eyebrows. "You are the only person still alive who knew him well. You would know the perfect way to honor his memory."

Grace bit her bottom lip and let out a breath. "Mr. Abrams... It's wonderful that you want to do this for Captain Rogers. It truly is. But you have to understand, this happened sixty-six years ago."

"But surely you remember."

She shook her head. "That's not the point," she said with a sigh. "You are more than welcome to create an exhibit that he so rightly deserves. He did so much for this country that should be recognized. But I don't want any involvement in it."

"Miss Stark—"

"You asked and I said no," she said firmly, interrupting the man. "It took me a very long time to come to terms with his sacrifice. One he did without a second thought because that was the type of person he was. I have my life I need to live, Mr. Abrams. I can't keep living in the past. But when the exhibit does open, I will gladly go see it. Because Steve does deserve an exhibit for everyone to know the type of person he was."

Mr. Abrams nodded. "I understand." He closed his briefcase and let out a breath. "Thank you for your time, Miss Stark."

Grace closed the door behind the man and let out a heavy sigh. "An exhibit for Steve," she said, leaning against the door and smiling softly. "An exhibit for Steve..."

⸻ ~~~ ⸻

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 living room, flipping through the packet that Mr. Abrams had given her when her phone rang. Glancing at the contact, she answered with a sigh. "Nick, now isn't a great time."

"Grace, turn on the Grand Prix," Nick said and she furrowed her brow.

"Why?" she asked, tossing the packet to the side. "I don't like car racing. They're just driving in a circle at a really fast speed. If I wanted to watch that, I'd turn on Cars. At least they have some drama."

"Grace."

She paused. "What?"

"Just turn on the Grand Prix."

Grace turned on the tv and the phone slipped from her hand. Tony was on the racetrack in his suit while facing off against a man with electric whips. Grace furrowed her brows and looked closer at the man. "It can't be..." she muttered to herself. She looked around for her phone and picked it up off the floor. "Nick?"

"I'm still here," he confirmed. "Agent Romanoff is out of danger. However, it would seem that Miss Potts and Mr. Hogan are now on the racetrack."

Grace whipped her head back toward the tv and sure enough, a car was on the racetrack, headed directly for Tony and the man.

"Nick..." She let out a breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Tell me that isn't Anton Vanko's son."

"I'm afraid so," he replied and she pursed her lips. "Grace, what happened between him and your brother? It's hardly in any files."

Grace sighed and sat down on the couch, her eyes still fixed on the fight happening on the tv. "Vanko came to the United States in '63," she said. "Eventually he started working closely with my brother. They started developing the Arc Reactor technology, but they had a disagreement. Howard wanted to use it for mankind but Vanko wanted to make a monetary profit.