Chapter One

"Are you sure you want to help?" Zoe asks, crossing her arms and biting her lip. "You teach tomorrow, right? You don't need to be worrying about this."

I sigh, tired of hearing it. "I'm fine."

"Maggie, your lungs-"

"Aren't going to explode by lifting a few boxes," I set one of the boxes down and turn to face my worried best friend. "I'm fine, Zoe. I promise."

She stares at me for a long moment, her deep blue eyes unwavering, and she finally heaves a sigh and flicks a strand of black hair from her face. "Fine. But if you can't breathe or function because of this-"

"- don't call you. I know. You've been threatening me with that since we were kids." I pick the box up again and set it on the table. "Where do you need these?"

"Just leave them there for right now," She grabs a large painting and sets it against the wall. "Being an art curator sucks. I hate it."

"No, you don't," I carefully take an old candle holder out of the box and set it on the old table.

"Fine, I don't," She eyes me carefully. "What about you?"

I smile, focusing on unpacking. "I love it."

"Of course, Miss cooking teacher. You don't have to deal with the pressure." Zoe flings her arms to the side dramatically.

I offer her a glance. "I live paycheck to paycheck. I think I understand pressure."

Zoe drops her hands. "How is that even safe? You would think with your asthma it would be torture."

"Cooking is probably the safest thing I could do," I start wiping the table down. "I could always be a firefighter."

"I don't think you have the muscles for that."

"Exactly." I turn and smile, brushing one of my fiery red strands from my face.

Zoe shakes her head. "You're crazy."

I smile, turning back to my work. "Thanks."

Zoe grumbles under her breath before suddenly stilling. "Do you hear that?"

I pause, frowning. "Hear what?"

"Listen," She grabs my arm gently, and I hear the sound of metal and…

"Are those gun shots?" I whisper, my hands tightening.

Zoe curses, dragging me away. "I'm calling the cops."

The wall explodes, and I shove Zoe out of the way before diving to the ground. I glance up to see a man walking into the museum backwards, shooting at someone, and I notice the candle holder on the ground. I quickly snag it before scrambling to my feet and throwing, missing him but managing to catch his attention. He turns to glare at me, and I freeze before a fist slams into his jaw, knocking him to the ground, and I watch with wide eyes as a man climbs through the hole.

"Is that Captain America?" Zoe asks, sounding a mix of terrified and awestruck.

I ignore her, my eyes locked on his, and for a long moment we just stare at each other, baby blue against my dull brown. After a moment his eyes flicker, and I know he's focused and dangerous.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" He asks, his eyes quickly assessing any injuries.

I can only nod, swallowing nervously and fighting the urge to cough. I can't guarantee that I won't have an asthma attack, and I won't risk it. The captain frowns, looking a little concerned, but Zoe quickly steps in front of me.

"Maggie, are you ok?" Zoe asks, touching my arm and forcing me to break eyes contact.

I clear my throat, sending up a little prayer. "Yeah," I croak. "I'm-" I break off, bending over in a coughing fit, and Zoe curses before gripping me tighter.

"Hang on, Maggie," She says, and though a few tears a see her scanning the room. "Where's your bag?"

"Stairs," I croak, and then she's gone. I bend over and grip my knees tightly, trying to get my lungs to work, and Captain America catches my arms and leads me to a wall, crouching in front of me as I sit.

"Is your friend going to find an inhaler?" He asks, and I nod before looking up to see him without his cowl. He's even more handsome then they show on TV; his blond hair is a little ruffled from battle, and there's a scratch healing in front of my eyes- which is strange- but it's the sincerity in his eyes that shocks me.

"Why are you checking on me?" I manage, relieved to hear the lack of a wheeze.

He tilts his head curiously. "It's part of the job, ma'am,"

I wince. "Don't call me that," I try to clear my throat. "I'm fine. You should be making sure he isn't getting back up."

"He isn't," He reaches out and grabs my arm gently. "I understand asthma attacks, Miss…"

"Maggie," I swallow carefully. "Maggie Smith."

He smiles. "Steve Rogers."

Before I can tell him to leave again, a single shot rings out, and Steve grabs my arm and shoves me so I'm lying on the ground. The shooter runs off, prompting Steve to run after him, but once he reaches the door he stops and curses.

"Maggie? I heard shots!" Zoe runs back inside, dropping beside me. "Just breathe, ok?"

I nod, taking my inhaler from her.

"Make sure she gets to a hospital," Steve orders, watching me closely.

Zoe nods once, looking stern. "I told you it wasn't a good idea to help."

I ignore her, carefully rising to my feet. "I'm fine. I just need to rest."

"No," Steve says firmly. "You need to be checked."

I send him a bit of a glare, not caring that he could crush me with one hand. "I'm fine, Captain."

His eyes narrow back, and we stare each other down for a long moment, neither able to look away or back down.

Zoe clears her throat carefully. "I'm going to call the cops and tell my boss to postpone the exhibit."

Steve finally looks away, allowing me to release a breath as he focuses on my best friend. "I'll call in a few favors to help rebuild. We'll have it done as soon as possible."

Zoe nods, relieved. "Thanks,"

He nods before looking at me for a long moment. "Be careful," He says finally. Before I can say anything he leaves, and I look over to see Zoe looking star struck.

"He's even bigger than I thought," She says dreamily.

I frown. "I thought you liked Tony Stark?"

"I do," She snaps out of it. "But he is definitely attractive."

"He's… something," I move towards the stairs, careful of any major dust piles. "If it's alright with you, I'm going to head home."

"Do you want a ride?" She asks innocently.

I send her a glare. "Not after the last time."

"It was one time,"

"We could have died."

"But we didn't,"

I shake my head, unable to fight back a smile. "You're insane."

She grins. "You know you love me," She wraps an arm around my shoulders, walking with me to the gaping hole leading to the street. "You know the drill. Text me when you're home, don't do anything stupid-"

"That's your job, not mine."

"- and be careful." She finishes, ignoring me. "Got it?"

I sigh. "Yes, ma'am."

She sends me a glare. "Shut up."

I grin and step into the street, aware that I probably look homeless and dirty, and I quickly move towards the subway, knowing that DC shouldn't be this crowded at one in the morning. I feel eyes on me, and I glance over to see a man watching me with a dangerous smile.

I swallow carefully and turn back around, anxious to go home.