Captain

Part one

*Edited on 10/22/2024

This takes place around October of 2012

Trying to be discreet, I slid the small sketchbook under the apartment door. After knocking I wasted no time before heading for elevator. My job was over. I had earned my points for being a good person for the day. All I could hope for now is for the owner of the sketchbook to have their faith in humanity restored for a few days.

"Ma'am?" The quiet of the hallway was broken by a male voice. I froze then turned to face the man. He was tall, six or so feet, and stood a few doors down from where I was now. He held the door, the one I just knocked on, open with his foot and in his hands was the sketchbook. "Did you find this and bring it back here?"

"Yeah," I nodded and explained further. "It was lying on the floor in the diner, the one in front of the STARK tower. I noticed it there while I was eating lunch there. Then I saw the address in the front and didn't have anything else to today so here I am..." I trail off realizing that I just word vomited all over this poor man.

He smiled at me then down at the sketchbook. There was something so familiar about the blue eyed, broad shouldered man but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Well, thank you so much for returning it to me ma'am," he held up the book, "I appreciate it."

"It's no problem. I'm glad I could get it back to you." I gave him a closed mouth smile.

He held out his hand and offered it to me. "I'm Steve by the way."

"(Y/n)." I took his hand and shook it. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too."

With that I turned and started to walk away. Then remembering something I spun back around hoping to catch Steve before he went back into his apartment.

"Oh, and Steve," his eyebrows shot up and I pointed at the book in his hands, "those drawings are amazing. I hope you don't mind that I flipped through the pages a bit."

"Not at all." His whole posture changed, standing a little straighter, and a grin plastered itself to his (very handsome) face. "Thank you."

I smiled back and gave him a wave. With that I finally turned and made it to the elevator. Third times a charm.

Walking out of Steve's apartment building, I can't get rid of the feeling that I know him from somewhere. His mannerisms, his build, his face, they were all so familiar. I mean even the way he talked, calling me ma'am, was so out of the ordinary but expected all at the same time.

The thought dances around my mind as I weave through the crowds of New York. It's not until I'm almost back home that I realize how stupid I am.

"Captain. Freaking. America." I stop mid stride and mutter the realization under my breath. "That was Steve Rogers. Ha."

Being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent I was very familiar with the discovery that the legendary Captain America still lives and his hand in helping the Avengers save the world not too long ago. I should have known who he was just by his voice.

I mentally kick myself. "You left your phone number in the cover of Steve Roger's sketchbook?!"

The idea of leaving my phone number scribbled on the inside cover of the sketchbook was simply to compliment the artwork, had the owner not answered the door. And if they never called, well, no harm no foul.

But now, not only had I met the owner, he was Steve Rogers, and I practically worked with him. Not actually, however there was a real, likely possibility that we could one day cross paths at work. I cringed.

I wouldn't mind seeing him again, but I know how it would look. Everyone knows Fury has people watching the newly defrosted World War two legend. Though I understood the thought behind Fury's actions, I didn't necessarily agree with them. And I did not want to be mistaken for some kind of undercover babysitter.