Disclaimer: I don't own Captain America or the Avengers or the Marvel Comic Universe. They belong to the Marvel and Marvel Studios. Please don't sue me. I am probably make mistakes out the ying-yang.

A/N- I'm trash. A Mary Sue. Flame me if you want, I probably deserve it. I originally posted this on AO3, but I thought maybe this would get more response from a wider audience like ff.

The story starts right after the Avengers film before Cap 2.

The music pounded in my ears and I gyrated in the cage.

Don't forget to make sexy faces like you love this… when you hate it.

I had been kind of stupid to go to come to DC after graduating college. Of course, this was a gay bar, and the Drag Queens were the real show. I gazed out over the audience of dancing gay men as Madame Glitter glided across the stage in a bright pink flowered muumuu, lip syncing along to Don't Leave Me by Thelma Houston, every eye in the audience was on her. The gay men in the audience were cheering and handing over singles. I'd maybe make $0.10 of that dollar. Probably less. The go-go dancers at the club worked on the tips we made, and the drag queens decided how much we got. Madame Glitter liked me, for now. I was in her good graces.

A short redhead who looked like she could have killed me with her pinky finger stood in front of my cage and I saw a perfectly groomed, thick eyebrow raise at my go go boots. "Nice boots," she said, face blank, although I couldn't hear her. I wasn't stupid, I had on ear plugs under this platinum blonde wig. But she had on killer heeled boots that had to cost more than my rent.

Bachelorette parties came to gay bars all the time. I should know. I had gone to a few in my time, one in particular with my older sister, Lauren. I had imagined having my own with Chad, but that had ended terribly.

I saw a few people trailing behind her, and damn, half the guys in the club were checking them out.

To be honest, I did too, although my prospects here were pretty nil. While 90% of the guys went for other guys here, the other 10% usually stuck close to their girlfriends unless they were P-FLAG or had been to gay bars at least ten times.

Yeah, cis-gendered guys were funny to watch here.

This group though…. All jocks, but I starting running down the gay stereotypes in my head, even though it was unfair.

They were basically made of muscle. Possibly gay? I wouldn't doubt it. The one right behind the redhead had he most beautiful long, blonde hair and a beard. Possibly a daddy bear? Soon, maybe, if he just gained some weight, he'd make a good one. He seemed to find this whole place hilarious, had a huge grin on his face and was taking the guys checking him out as a funny. Then, there was one that looked like he might have been a Daddy, but he seemed bored. Then, there was a blonde in a muscle t-shirt, who looked a little surprised, but not scared. I had the feeling he was so straight-laced he had never been to a concert. He glanced up and me and did a shoulder shimmy that showed off my boobs and he quickly looked away, like it was so offensive. Dude looked like he had never heard of a size XL shirt, his biceps were about to rip the sleeves.

Madame Glitter's song ended, and I saw the redhead had been replaced by the club's manager Larry and a hairless guy in a gold Speedo and Converse sneakers. He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. "You're done for the night," Larry said over Paula Abdul's Vibeology the DJ was playing.

"You promised me ten songs," I argued. "It's only been three, there's two more queens performing and the finale-"

"Danielle, you're out," he said, unlocking the cage. "Don't make a scene."

I panicked. Gold Speedo shrugged his skinny shoulders.

I knew why: he wanted the gogo dancers to make more tips, and we were dressed (even if it was skin-tight liquid latex minidresses) in more clothing. I glanced over at Nia, who shrugged at me, in an identical outfit, another gold-speedoed twink waiting outside her cage door. Of course, he was replacing us with cute little twinks. I reached for the door to brace myself, but caught the heel of my platformed gogo boot on the cage threshold.

I went tumbling forward, total klutz that I am. I braced myself for the hard impact of the floor, but I was caught by a strong set of arms that prevented me from an untimely demise.

I cracked an eye open and realized I was looking at the sticky stained pattern of the club's dance floor.

"Are you okay?" a voice shouted over my head.

"Toots, you're done," Larry repeated. "The crowd's just not up for go-go tonight. Hey, and good catch, Muscles."

My savior set me down as the dude in a Speedo climbed up into the cage. "You're alright?" he asked.

I turned around to gaze up into his face. He was clean-shaved and his blonde hair was gelled and styled in a style my grandfather wore. And he had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. "I'll be fine," I replied, my cheeks turning red.

I clomped away in the awkward high heels to the backstage entrance, embarrassed.

As I sat down at the dressing room mirrors, I peeled my three-inch long fake lashes off and put them into my makeup case, sighing at my reflection. Waitressing was not going to make ends meet this month alone, and I wasn't sure how I'd make it through without missing grad school classes.

"Well, doesn't this suck?" Nia asked, setting down beside me on the bench. She started to take off her go-go boots. "It makes me want to start riding pole."

"I doubt we're going to get anything tonight," I grumbled.

"Girls, I just wanted to let you know, you were doing a bang-up job out there tonight," Madame Glitter said maternally. She got out her wallet and got out some cash. "Look, all I have is twenty for each of you. I know that's just enough for some dinner or a nice glass of wine, and a ride back home on the Metro."

"Oh, Madame Glitter, you don't have to," I said. "This is your money-"

"Larry wants you to their pay the cover charge or get out," she said reluctantly. "Sorry."

I pulled my wig off and then my wig cap, letting down my brown hair and fluffed my hair back, staring at myself in the mirror in all that heavy stage makeup. "I'm going to see how I can make my money stretch."

"Maybe you can dive into the arms of another cute boy," Madame Glitter suggested. "Oh and honey, there's no way he was straight."

I snorted at that.

Well, Nia was right: there were bars that only wanted their girl topless, and they made bank. I could go by a stage name…

Of course, that was silly. I didn't want that following me around in my professional career in Licensed professional counseling.

No, I wasn't going to do that.

All I wanted was to get home, take off my bra, watch Turner Classic Movies and have a glass of cheap red wine from the box.

Yeah, I was lame like that.

After I took off my boots and hung up my rented dress (which was gross with sweat), I gathered my things and said goodbye to Nia and the rest of the drag queens waiting to go on.

I had to go through the dance floor and the bar to get to the exit, which sucked. I was leaving, and everybody else was having a great time dancing. I wished I could have stayed, but the cover was thirty, I'd have lost money tonight.

Elbowing my way through the dancers, I made my way through to the bar, and saw that cute guy who had caught me. Well, cute wasn't the word. He was more a Greek god and the whole bar was watching him and his Greek god friends. He was arguing over something with that redhead girl, who kind of made me question my sexuality a little bit, and I saw his eyes drift to me for a second over her shoulder, and then back to her face, but she turned to see what he was looking at.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned.

And then, she charged after me.

"Hey! You!" she shouted.

I felt my blood drain from my head. She was taller than me in her boots was was probably going to murder me and Daniel would let her get away with it. Or at least kick my ass.

Because, you know, being a sucky dancer who didn't make money was reason enough.

"Stop!" she cried, her finger pointing in my face. "Where are your manners?"

"Uh…"

"Nat, stop it," the guy said. "Let her alone."

"Didn't you learn to say 'thank you' when someone does something nice for you, like save you from face-planting in front of a whole night club?" she barked at me, ignoring her boyfriend. "At least have the common decency-"

"Nat, stop," the blond guy said, grabbing her offending hand.

My face was burning. I had hoped that once I got my wig and that stupid dress off, nobody in the club would have recognized me as the uncoordinated dancer kicked out of her cage. Hell, I was shorter in New Balances without the gogo boots on. But noooooo .

Had I broken a mirror in the last seven years that I couldn't remember?

"No! Not until she thanks you for saving her. She could have snapped her neck if it weren't for you!"

"Thank you," I blurted out at the guy.

He looked a little embarrassed, himself. I saw the guy that looked like a dad behind him, who cleared his throat loudly. "Ask her."

Nat turned to the blond and crossed her arms, glaring at the dad-figure.

He blurted out something to me that I couldn't understand over the new song. I stared at him for a moment.

"What?" I asked.

He looked terribly embarrassed, and said something that I could tell was Nevermind and started to turn away.

Me? Why was he getting so nervous around me? He was a lot hotter than anybody else in this club. No doubt he could have had any of the women and/or any guy of his pick.

I started to exit the club, but a group of drunk people were blocking it, just standing together laughing and talking about something.

"Excuse me!" I shouted.

Nothing.

"Excuse me!" I shouted again.

I could feel the death glare of the redhead on my back, but I didn't bother to look behind myself.

"The young wench would like to get through!" the long-haired blond guy came up behind me and bellowed.

Couldn't this group leave me alone.

"T-thanks," I stuttered.

"Could you be troubled to stay for a brew?" he asked.

Weird.

"No, that's okay," I said.

"My friend Steve asked to buy a drink for you," he said.

"He- uh, did?" I asked, unsure. I glanced back at the group at the bar that stood out. The redhead and had bought about four shots of vodka from the bartender. The blond guy in the t-shirt that was too small for his frame was watching me, but looked away immediately. "That was nice, but I can't stay. I have to go." I slipped out the door past the bouncers.

I started towards the Metro stop, but a pair of cops were drinking coffees on the hood of their cop car and saw me start down the street.

"You know it's not safe to walk by yourself, don't you?"