Chapter 1: Making like a Salad

"Oh bloody hell." Evelyn stared morosely at her spilled supplies. The cans were mostly unscathed and the nails, although decorating the floor having spilled from their thin plastic prison, were salvageable, but the 'hammer to out hammer them all' had snapped at the neck and the salad was now snail food with her lettuce making a roll for it across the carpark. Even she hadn't escaped the salad massacre being launched bum first to the ground and decorated in tomatoes. She stared towards the slightly dented can of spaghetti…so much for a refreshing salad to welcome in her new life.

"Ma'am are you alright?" Glare already in place Evelyn's eyes found themselves falling into a Caribbean ocean. This ocean was set in the most handsome stereotypical American face she'd ever seen since she'd gone rouge to go live across the sea. But being British and more than a lot stubborn her dark chocolate eyes remained narrowed.

"Yes of course I'm fine, that's why I'm making like a salad and garnishing myself in tomatoes while my lettuce makes a break for the trees after walking into what could only be described as a walking wall. Why wouldn't anyone in my situation not be fine sitting on carpark concrete that could probably fry an egg, which coincidently I didn't have the foresight to buy so I could be doing just that right now!" She threw her whole body into the huff of annoyance at the end just in case, like many Americans, this one didn't enjoy the pleasures of a good dollop of sarcasm.

Just as she assumed the man seemed slightly perplexed at her response to his honest to god genuine question in his not even at all attracted Brooklyn accent. He even had the audacity to look not at all adorably chastised for being the means to her disagreement with gravity. Honestly she wasn't even swooning on the inside, and it was certainly not cute to tilt your head slightly while you though over how crazy the woman covered in tomatoes truly was. Not even at all.

"Would you like a hand?" He gestured to the Picasso style mess she'd managed to create with her inability to collaborate with gravity.

"No, I'd just like to sit here and relish the feeling of embarrassment." Truly she just couldn't help herself could she? Almost entirely certain he'd be walking away with the impression that British woman were a new breed entirely. "Sorry, yeah a hand would be great…" her face twitched in a manner that implied she was having an internal debate, and after a moment she added, "…perhaps you could use two?" She extended her hand towards his proffered one, his grip dwarfed her own in breadth and strength as he pulled her to her feet.

"I'm Steve Rodgers…ma'am." He trailed off partway through wincing as though he was expecting some sort of a significant reaction from her. In all it was quite odd but then she supposed it couldn't be as odd as a young woman trying to imitate a tomato cover salad on a carpark plate. So she decided to make the best of an entirely strange situation and ignore the tick.

"Don't worry not the worst name in the world, you could have been called Herbert." Evelyn offered him a smile while she brushed off her shirt and pants ensemble. "Really you don't have to give me a hand, it's my own fault, it just find tarmac so interesting you know?"

Although he didn't say it she could clearly see the disbelief and slight confusion plastered on his face like teenagers plastered on fake tan.

"It's a joke soldier lightening up."

"What? Why would you think I'm military ma'am?" He sounded nervous, well more nervous than he'd been when he was asking if she was alright. His shoulders had stiffened as she could clearly see he was uncomfortable with her conclusion.

"Sorry, didn't mean to offend you or anything but let's be honest no one irons their shirt quite that well, the bombers jacket, while built like a brick house, the hair cut…" as she listed them she counted them off on her fingers, "…and finally the ma'am thing, not many blokes say ma'am. My name is Evelyn by the way."

"Oh um right, yeah, I was in the army." He stopped to gather the haystacks pile of nails and although she couldn't see his face she could hear the relief in his voice. Peculiar that, very peculiar. Brushing the thought aside for later analysis as she sat alone his her flat enjoying what would most probably be cold canned spaghetti, she knelt beside him and began clean up.

"So you live around here? I mean you sound like you're from Brooklyn, that's why I'm asking. I just moved here you see hence the nails and…" she picked up the pieces of the broken hammer, "…and what once was a hammer." She sighed.

"I've lived here for a while but I'm still getting used to all this." Nails in hand he gestured about him. "OI was born in Brooklyn but I haven't been there in a long time, a very long time." He sounded wistful, almost sad really.

"Surely you could go visit?"

"It wouldn't be the same, plus things are a little complicated right now and I don't think I'd want to see how much things have changed." He plucked a slightly squished tomato from the tarmac and at the shake of her head dropped it back down where it began chasing down the escaped lettuce.

"I can understand that, I mean I wouldn't be going back home it you paid me with all the treasured you could unearth. Not that England doesn't hold some good memories, I'd just rather let them stay as good memories you know?" They had pretty much gathered the produce that was rescuable at this point and funnelled it into one of those wax grocery bags which she had mentally deemed novel but probably not usable more than once. They would probably break given the slight tear it had acquired on its floor bound tumble. Standing she straightened her shirt and in a rather amusing role reversal offered him a hand in an effort to pull him up.

In all honesty is was a bad judgement on her part, she was a 5'3 barely muscled scientist and he was a god knew how tall giant muscled to the max, so really she shouldn't have been surprised at the result. Although, expertly managed on his behalf, he had managed to acquire a standing position she was left sprawling upright against a man she barely knew, but knew he was once a soldiers, chest trying to look like she didn't intend it, which she hadn't.

Thoroughly embarrassed she took a stumbling step away from him, her face heating into a blush. But a luck would have it said stumble would have left her bottom inbound on the tarmac kingdom yet again if a hand the size of her face hadn't caught her by the arm.

In an attempted to avoid saying something embarrassing like 'my hero' she let out a mouse like squeak before covering her mouth with her hand. As soon as she was righted he left go, stepping backwards slowly with his hands palm out towards her as though he was afraid she bolt or scream. Between them was the grocery back sitting in a smattering of lost tomatoes acting as if it was a barrier between them.

"Sorry, I didn't mean…I didn't hurt you?" He genuinely looked concerned, almost as though he was berating himself for laying a hand on her. For saving her from the fall.

"No, no I'm fine, just a little…" in awe of how your chest feels like a castle wall, "…startled. You're heavier than you look, not that your fat or anything. You're rather fit….as in you appear to exercise a lot…oh god." Now she really was embarrassed and face palmed with her stupidity. But then she heard it, it was a deep rumble that barrelled right though her, he was laughing at her! She glanced from between her fingers as the chuckles left him and she couldn't help but laugh at herself. Really, what a way to meet someone.

"I'm so sorry about that, I swear I'm not normally this mentally challenged. Look, I'm really grateful for your help, but I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure you have things to do, other mentally challenged maidens to save." She chuckled at her own joke, original Evie, truly. "Sides I have to try and remember which bus I have to catch to get home."

"Where do you live?" At the slightly suspicious glance she gave him, a reflex of having lived in London he explained. "I mean after being the reason you lost…" he looked at the trail of lettuce leaves leading to a bush, "…was that a lettuce? The reason you lost some of your shopping, the least I could do is walk you home.

This left Evie with a slight dilemma. On one hand the only reason she was catching or going to catch a bus was because she wasn't about to go wondering about alone in a new city where no-one knew her or knew if she was to go missing. Well work would know but how long would that take, there was a weekend in the way so at least 3-5 days. But on the other was this strange man she'd just met who could be all sorts of creepy wrapped in a hero couldn't do wrong façade. Normally she'd be all for leaving him in the dust with her broken hammer and unusable tomatoes but her gut was telling her to take him up on his offer. She could do with a friend and if anything he wasn't too bad to look at. If worst came to worst she'd fall back on her teenage years martial arts classes…or a handy piece of wood, possibly a pipe.

"I live on at 214 East 84th Street, it's not too far from here really, it's the one off 3rd Avenue." He voiced raised as though she was asking a question even though she was pretty certain where she lived or was going to live…had an apartment?

"Couple of blocks off central park?" She nodded. "I know where that is." Without a seconds thought he pulled the grocery bag into his arm and offered her his other one. Well that was slightly unexpected but entirely old fashioned. She was certain it was the old fashioned romanticism that led her to looping her arm through his.

~oOo~

They had been walking in companionable silence for a few minutes, every now and then Steve would point out a good place to have a coffee, a nice retro restaurant, good places to buy clothes and a few quaint book stores. All in all Evie was rather pleased that she'd managed to snag a possible friend within a day of being here.

They weaved through the hustling crowd blending in with a manner that Steve had never really been used to. There were a few stares, a couple of camera phones but luckily Evelyn seems entirely oblivious to it all, enamoured as she was by Manhattan in a way that made him take another look at the city which had become his home.

He'd been angry when he'd left Stark tower, or Avengers tower, or the big steel monstrosity. He was certain Tony was losing it, almost 100 percent certain and it was only becoming more evident in his erratic behaviour. But could the others see it, no. Only Bruce would listen to him but he was science buddies with Tony and was only humouring him. He could tell. He might not be from this century but human interaction hadn't changed. Being the sickly kid had its advantages. Steve had learned from watching people. He knew Tony was cracking, that he needed help but Tony was Tony and wouldn't take an iota of help even if it came in an IV. He was in charge of this team but it sure as hell didn't feel like it.

It was in this storm cloud of anger that he'd barrelled into Evelyn. Despite his anger at Tony he was a gentleman and this was really his fault so what could he do but offer her help and an escort home. Young women shouldn't really be walking Manhattan alone anyway. Not after all he'd seen on the news. It wasn't like this back in Brooklyn, back when he was just Steve and not a long lost hero come back to life.

Within a few nail picking minutes of Evelyn's company the anger had abated and he'd even found himself laughing at how adorably she stumbled over herself. She was as bad as him.

She was a breath of fresh air and for a moment he could just push aside Tony and the Avengers, even push aside Captain America. That was probably one of the best things, and why he'd been so eager to offer his services as escort, she hadn't a clue who he was. Apparently he wasn't so big in England.

Sooner than he'd thought they'd arrived on 48th and in front of her apartment complex. Time to get back to his own life…great.

"Look I want to say thanks for walking me home, I have a bottle or two of celebratory moving wine and a backup handful or fast food leaflets. You're welcome to come in and have dinner, if you'd like to of course." Really he should be getting back, Natasha would probably have his hide for storming out and not even giving them a clue to where he'd gone. Pepper would probably think Tony had annoyed him out of Manhattan, Clint probably wouldn't be too bothered neither would Bruce and Tony would imagine up something vulgar they would all ignore.

"Sure." He watched as her expression turned into one of warm relief and then panic.

"Um, I only got here today so there isn't much furniture to go by…but I do have plates and cutlery." She proudly stated as she opened the door to the communal stairwell. "It's a bit of a trek, 4 flights, are you sure you're okay to carry that?" Her eyes strayed toward the bag, which was held as high as when he picked it up, with slight amazement.

"No worries I've got this."

"Okay then." Turning on her heel she led the way up the staircase trailing her hand along the black iron railing. It was all rather modest really. She led him off onto a landing and stopped in front of a door, going from the jangling of keys this was her flat.

She'd been right about the lack of furnishings, there were a few boxes dotted about and a couple of plastic containers, filled with trinkets but that was pretty much everything. He'd be surprised if she even had a bed.

"You can just put those on the counter, I'll grab the food menus." Looking around he noted how small it was, entirely modest. The bathroom in Stark tower was probably bigger than her entire flat. Placing the wax bag on the kitchen counter he took the opportunity to glance around. Across a few of the stacked boxes were placed large framed pictures of space, galaxies swirling across a background of stars. That would explain the nails and hammer. On one corner of the counter were a few framed pictures. Three exactly. One must have been a family photo, he could see the resemblance between the young girl sandwiched between a middle aged man and woman and Evelyn. The other was an elderly couple and the final one was a picture of Evelyn with a black mortarboard cap and gown.

"Got them!" Evelyn strode back into the kitchen and spread their options onto the table as well as two bottles of wine. "So we have Chinese, Thai, Indian, BBQ and god ole' Dominoes. What do you think?"

The awkward food query silence drifted between them and Steve glanced through the menus finishing on Dominoes, pizza was probably safe bet. "Dominoes?"

"Oh thank god, I was hoping you'd go for pizza. Mighty meaty and a chicken one sound good? Also I have ice cream, never be without ice cream."

"Sounds good to me." He watched as she wandered over to the phone and while she ordered their meal he opened and poured the wine not that he'd be able to truly enjoy it. At least you could appreciate the flavour. It was an Australian red so it was probably pretty good.

It took less than 40 minutes for food to arrive and within that time they'd created an impromptu seating arrangement from the plastic boxes along with a small table.

"It's not perfect but it will do."

It certainly wasn't often he ended up in a women's flat, whom she had just met, sitting on a makeshift seat made from a plastic box sipping an Australian red dining on pizza. Certainly not something he'd ever thought of doing with Peggy or any girl from his time. Yet he was doing it with Evelyn, even laughing with her as the wine took effect and she mimed the conversation she'd had with one of her new nosey neighbours.

"…and then he said he'd be watching me. I mean creepy much so I said 'you'll be watching me stalk you then…grrr.'"

"You actually growled at him?"

"Don't laugh, it just slipped out! And on that note time for ice cream I think." He watched her sway to her feet, ready to come to the rescue if gravity should be too much for her, and walk towards the fridge-freezer. With the door open all he could see was her lower half as she bent to search through the draws. Modestly he glanced away finding the swirling pattern on his wine glass all too interesting. "It's mint by the way." Her head popped out from being the door. "You're not one of those people who are allergic to mint are you?" He chuckled as she jabbed the spoon she'd picked up at him.

"No mint is good Evie." He didn't know at what point in the night he'd begun calling her by her name, let alone a nickname, but it had happened and she didn't seem to mind. As a matter of a fact she'd dazzled him with a smile the first time he'd done it.

"Here you go Mr not allergic to mint."

"Thanks." He took the chilled bowl.

"I've really had fun tonight Steve. I didn't think I'd be able to meet someone like you at all, let alone literally bump into you on the first day!"

"I said I was sorry about that."

"I know." She smirked and licked the mint off her spoon. "But seriously I'm glad I bumped into you."

"I'm glad I bumped into you too Evie." She smiled. He really liked her smile.

"Do you have a mobile…I mean a cellphone? Brits call them mobiles, have to remember that. So do you?"

"Yeah." He didn't but Tony would probably give him one.

"Have it on you?"

"Not today, I left it back at the tow-…back home." Careful Steve. He hadn't told her he was Captain America, there was only two ways that conversation would go, she'd run or she'd fawn over him. He didn't want to see either of those on Evie.

"Oh, that's okay I'll write it on some paper. Umm…pen, pen, pen." Pulling a box towards her she fumbled about in the depths and pulled out a pen with the triumph akin to pulling Excalibur from the stone. "Ah ha, got it!" she singsonged. Without a seconds thought she grabbed the Dominoes menu and scribbled her number onto it. "When you get home text me. Well text me tomorrow I'll probably crash after you leave. Wine always makes me sleepy." He pocketed the menu and they shared a grin before going back to demolishing their ice cream.

~oOo~

"Remember Steve text me!" Evie shouted the reminder down the hallway and then shushed herself to his mirth. As the last waves were exchanged before he disappeared down the stairwell and her flat door shut with a click she realised how empty her apartment was. She felt lucky to have met Steve, he was kind and acted like a gentleman, even insisting on washing up before he left. You just didn't bump into those sort of people and yet she did.

With a sigh she padded into her bedroom and changed, flopping on to her mattress which was slid against the wall on her floor. She really did need to do some furniture shopping soon.

~oOo~

Captain America/OC fanfic is go. Opinions are welcome!