She nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed that she had taken it so far. “Forgive me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be so forward.”
Sometimes the intensity of the feelings that she had for him still scared her. It felt like she wanted him all the time. Perhaps it was merely the impatience of having to wait until they were properly married. Despite the engagement, she knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet until her parents were fully on board.
Their car stopped at the bottom and the door was opened so that they could be let out. Mary held Steve’s hand tightly in her own.
"There's absolutely nothing you need to apologize for," he said, hoping that would soothe her worries and wash away her embarrassment. Steve felt truly lucky that he had a woman like Mary, and that she wanted him just as badly as he did her and wasn't afraid to express it.
Holding her hand tightly, he helped her out of the car once he was outside, tugging her a little closer. She was standing right in front of him and he cupped her face, tipping his head down to kiss her again. A little tamer this time than it had been in the car, but a kiss nonetheless, although he really couldn't care any less if anyone happened to be staring at them.
He always had a perfect way of comforting her, which was one of the many things that Mary loved about him.
It was a sweet kiss, one that lingered until Mary reluctantly pulled away because they were standing in the way of people trying to get on the ride. She laced her fingers with Steve's as they walked away from the Ferris wheel. "Are you hungry?" Mary asked. She was ready to eat, even if it meant sampling some things she had never tried before.
He tipped his head as he apologized to the people held up by the two of them standing there, then weaving his fingers through Mary's, he let her lead them away from the wheel. "I could eat something," he nodded, steering them towards the food stands. "What do you want to eat?"
She wouldn't find any places that served actual meals on dishes here, just rows of stands serving quick food in napkins or paper plates, meant to be eaten by hand. Hot dogs, hamburgers, sandwiches and french fries made up for most of what was on offer, and while it all looked a bit messy, at least it smelled good.
“I don’t know...” Mary mused. “Why don’t you tell me what’s good?”
This was not her usual cuisine. She had certainly had informal meals before, but not like this. Mary wasn’t even sure if she had tried any of these foods before. It did smell good though. They stopped at one stand and Mary peered at the menu. She knew french fries at least and had eaten those before.
"Oh, everything's good," he offered with a faint grin. He wasn't a very picky eater, and he loved cheap stand foods like the ones here. Still, as she approached one of the stands and the vendor greeted them with a cheerful smile, Steve took a peek over her shoulder, pointing at one of the items on the lisr.
"What about a hot dog? You can add whatever you want to it, even sauces and the like. It goes well with the fries, too."
“Fries are certainly good...” she said, thinking for another moment before adding, “alright then, I’ll try one.” It was part of being in the spirit of the day, of experiencing everything that Coney Island had to offer. It was almost cultural in a way.
While the vendor got their food, Mary tuned back to Steve. “What do you usually put on it?”
Telling the vendor they'd both be having a hot dog and a serving of fries to share, the man started heating up the sausages and bread, and Steve turned his attention to Mary for the moment. "Pickles, corn, cheese, a bit of lettuce, and... a couple of the sauces? You can just pick what you like, they usually have a lot of things."
He raised an eyebrow, curious. "Have you ever had a hot dog before?"
“Corn?” Mary questioned. That seemed odd to her for some reason. “I don’t think I’ve ever had one before, though I suppose it’s like a sandwich or a sausage? I’ve had sausages with sauerkraut before.”
They tended to be harder to come by since the war. All things German were banned in many places.
"Yeah, a mix of both. It's a large sausage stuffed in a long bread. The classic is just plain or with sauce, but these days people will add just about anything to it." Once the vendor turned back to them with the prepared hot dogs, Steve picked his ingredients, thanking him as he set it down on a plate on the small counter in front of them.
The plate was made of paper, which drew Mary’s curiosity. “Huh,” she said. “That’s rather thick paper. I suppose that’s ingenious, and much easier than doing dishes constantly.”
Mary ended up picking sauerkraut and mustard. The fries were in a paper carton with ketchup. She had seen that before at least. Popcorn at the fair or the cinema came in a similar container. “Where shall we sit?”
"Imagine having to do the dishes in a place like this," he huffed, raising his eyebrows at her. It was difficult enough for them to get access to running water, it would be impossible to set up any sort of system that would serve as a proper way to wash the dishes decently.
He looked around the tables, spotting a free one they could take. "This way," he nodded for her to follow, picking up his hot dog and the chips as he led the way to the empty table. "I'll fetch us drinks. What do you want?"
“Oh, a Coca Cola,” she answered. “I don’t get to have those very often.” Mary felt rather American with her hot dog and Coke. Granny back home would scoff, but Mary found it charming. It went with her American fiancée. Before Steve even left to get the drinks she had already snatched a fry and eaten it. Delicious. Can’t go wrong with fried potatoes.
He quirked an eyebrow, amused, but nodded. "Coming right up," he said, as he turned around and made his way to another stand nearby and ordered two Cokes, bringing them back to the table a few minutes later. He took the seat across from hers, taking a few fries and humming at the taste. "Mm, good."
Mary thanked him and took a sip of her Coke before trying the hot dog. It was actually quite good, even if it was messy. She wasn’t used to eating food with her hands.
Scooting in closely next to Steve in their booth, she gazed up at him. “How exactly did you become a spy?” She asked quietly.
He took a couple of bites from his hot dog before Mary asked her question, and he gave a little shrug, swallowing down the food before answering. "I was asked. I was a fast learner and picked up German really quickly, so I guess they were impressed. British Intelligence needed more people out on the field."
"You were recruited by the Brits?" she asked. She had no idea that they recruited Americans. Now that she thought back on it, it made sense that he had been sent to Downton to convalesce, since he was technically a British soldier. Downton got very few Americans anyway. "Did you technically serve in the RAF?"
"No, I'm a military aviator with the Aviation Section, Signal Corps. I was part of the British Expeditionary Forces during the war, and I was recruited as an agent for British Intelligence. It's sort of... difficult to explain," he shrugged. Sometimes he answered to the British Secret Service, particularly when it came to his missions overseas and all over Europe, but he'd never stopped being an American officer. And now, with the war being over, that was all he was again.
"It's... possible," he said with a tilt of his head, surprised she'd even remember that. Steve hadn't even thought of it. "We can look into it later. I mean, I'd still want to find work, but that'd certainly help."
Mary nodded. “Perhaps you can give flying lessons in England.” She are another fry before speaking to him again. “There are an increasing number of passenger flights now which will need pilots as well.”
She didn’t love the idea of him going up in an airplane every day because she worried about his safety, but she wouldn’t stop him from doing what he loved, either.
"I was thinking about that, actually. I like teaching, so if I could find a vacancy, I'd like to take up a teaching position somewhere." Nothing terribly fancy, evidently, but it should pay well enough. He certainly wasn't planning on having to lean on Mary or use her money, no matter how much or how little she ended up getting once she married him.
She was sure that he would be able to find some work doing that. Before continuing her food, she reached across the table for his hand and took it in hers.
“How.. many children would you like?” Mary’s tone was almost a bit shy. It was important that they talk about things like this before the wedding though.
He took a bite from his hot dog, smiling as he wrapped his fingers around her own, although he looked a bit surprised by her question.
"Many," he offered vaguely at first, after swallowing the food in his mouth and taking that moment to give it some thought. "As many as you'd like, I suppose. How many do you want?"
She was a bit surprised at first to hear the word “many”. Just how many was that? “Two or three,” she answered. “I’d like to try for at least a boy and a girl. How many were you thinking?”
Mary was a bit terrified at the idea of being a mother. Being one to a whole lot of kids was even scarier. She worried that she wouldn’t be able to handle them all, especially if they couldn’t afford to have a nanny.
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Sometimes the intensity of the feelings that she had for him still scared her. It felt like she wanted him all the time. Perhaps it was merely the impatience of having to wait until they were properly married. Despite the engagement, she knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet until her parents were fully on board.
Their car stopped at the bottom and the door was opened so that they could be let out. Mary held Steve’s hand tightly in her own.
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Holding her hand tightly, he helped her out of the car once he was outside, tugging her a little closer. She was standing right in front of him and he cupped her face, tipping his head down to kiss her again. A little tamer this time than it had been in the car, but a kiss nonetheless, although he really couldn't care any less if anyone happened to be staring at them.
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It was a sweet kiss, one that lingered until Mary reluctantly pulled away because they were standing in the way of people trying to get on the ride. She laced her fingers with Steve's as they walked away from the Ferris wheel. "Are you hungry?" Mary asked. She was ready to eat, even if it meant sampling some things she had never tried before.
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She wouldn't find any places that served actual meals on dishes here, just rows of stands serving quick food in napkins or paper plates, meant to be eaten by hand. Hot dogs, hamburgers, sandwiches and french fries made up for most of what was on offer, and while it all looked a bit messy, at least it smelled good.
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This was not her usual cuisine. She had certainly had informal meals before, but not like this. Mary wasn’t even sure if she had tried any of these foods before. It did smell good though. They stopped at one stand and Mary peered at the menu. She knew french fries at least and had eaten those before.
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"What about a hot dog? You can add whatever you want to it, even sauces and the like. It goes well with the fries, too."
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While the vendor got their food, Mary tuned back to Steve. “What do you usually put on it?”
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He raised an eyebrow, curious. "Have you ever had a hot dog before?"
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They tended to be harder to come by since the war. All things German were banned in many places.
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Mary ended up picking sauerkraut and mustard. The fries were in a paper carton with ketchup. She had seen that before at least. Popcorn at the fair or the cinema came in a similar container. “Where shall we sit?”
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He looked around the tables, spotting a free one they could take. "This way," he nodded for her to follow, picking up his hot dog and the chips as he led the way to the empty table. "I'll fetch us drinks. What do you want?"
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Scooting in closely next to Steve in their booth, she gazed up at him. “How exactly did you become a spy?” She asked quietly.
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It would be something to look into since they would be living in Britain. Another source of money couldn’t hurt.
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She didn’t love the idea of him going up in an airplane every day because she worried about his safety, but she wouldn’t stop him from doing what he loved, either.
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“How.. many children would you like?” Mary’s tone was almost a bit shy. It was important that they talk about things like this before the wedding though.
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"Many," he offered vaguely at first, after swallowing the food in his mouth and taking that moment to give it some thought. "As many as you'd like, I suppose. How many do you want?"
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Mary was a bit terrified at the idea of being a mother. Being one to a whole lot of kids was even scarier. She worried that she wouldn’t be able to handle them all, especially if they couldn’t afford to have a nanny.
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