A/N: In spite of CA:TWS (finally) coming out on DVD, I decided it was time to have a go at a Bucky x OC fanfic, because even monsters need love! *cries in the corner* Anyway, stay open to my timelines because they may not be 100% accurate, but I am trying my hardest! I know I always say it, but I'll try updating as quick as I can. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own CA:TWS or it's plot & characters. Purely fanmade- all rights go to Marvel.

Glass hitting glass was the only sound that filled the half-empty apartment as two white plates were wrestled out of the cupboard by steady hands. Meredith brought the plates to her chest, balancing them there while shutting the cabinet. A somber expression settled across her face as she turned to the man sitting at the table, noting signs of obvious distress. After a moment of studying him, she let a sigh escape her lips, sauntering over to the sleek, wooden table.

"Father, we do not have to eat it tonight," she pointed out with her slight British accent, gesturing towards the lemon-flavored cake sitting upon the table. Only a single, unlit candle sat atop it. "Perhaps if you want to wait until she returns…"

"No, no," the man said, instantly retorting Meredith's suggestion. "You made a cake so we're going to eat it."

Meredith only gave a sad smile, knowing better than to believe her father's confidence. However, she didn't press upon it, instead going back into the kitchen to fetch some silverware.

"You know," she hinted, her hands reaching for two forks and a knife, "I can take some cake to her tonight if you'd like. I was thinking about going anyway. She can eat cake right?"

"Of course," her father responded. "Why not?"

"Well, you can never just assume in a hospital." Meredith walked back to the table with the utensils in hand, placing them next to the two plates that were previously chosen. "You go in there with balloons and then someone's allergic to rubber."

She finally got her father to crack a smile, which instantly made her mimic his actions. "I suppose you're right," he said simply. However, almost instantly, his smile broke back down into a thin line, his face, once again, becoming expressionless, with glassy eyes staring directly in front of him. Meredith looked away from him, beginning to cut two slices out of the cake.

After putting one on his plate, her eyes briefly looked up to meet his wrinkled brow, and graying hair. She could tell his mind was active with thought, and she could only guess what he might be thinking about. She looked back down towards the cake, cutting herself a slice.

"So," she began, "how's work?"

He didn't reply right away, which was to be expected. Meredith assumed he was trying to think of an answer that didn't use the word "awful". She looked up at him once again, picking up her plate. His eyes were still glassy with thought, staring at something ahead of him. She followed his gaze to see the empty wooden chair across from where he was sitting. She stifled yet another sigh.

"It's as good as it's going to get when you're rebuilding the entire city of Manhattan," her father finally answered, picking up his fork. "However, I am thankful to be here when it is getting reconstructed, other than being here when it was torn down like your mother was."

Meredith gave him another sad smile, sitting down at the empty seat her father was previously staring at, instead of the seat next to him. She thought he'd seemed surprised at this action, however, if he did, he didn't show it.

Silence followed for a few moments as Meredith began eating the lemon cake she baked earlier that afternoon. "Pretty incredible what happened here, don't you think?" she asked, licking the frosting off of her lips.

"I wouldn't classify an alien attack as 'incredible', but-"

"No, no, not the alien attack! I meant the Avengers all being here and fighting the aliens!" she exclaimed, her voice becoming passionate. "You know, yesterday, when I was working at the diner, I overheard a lady saying that she met Tony Stark! How incredible would that be to meet such a legend?"

"Incredibly annoying, I say," her father retorted, earning an eye roll from his daughter that he didn't see. He continued, "He seems so narcissistic, and self-absorbed, and-"

"And without his help, this city, and most likely the whole world, would be in complete ruins." Meredith countered, trying to get him to see reason.

Silence followed her statement, mostly because their mouths were full of lemon cake and vanilla frosting, but also because her father didn't have a response. Seeming satisfied with that, Meredith channeled her attention on the slice in front of her.

A minute later, her father finally spoke, "But if it weren't for that other guy, those aliens wouldn't have come here."

"Who?" Meredith questioned, not looking up from her dessert.

"Oh, you know…" He thought for a few moments. "What's his name? Four? Whore?"

"Father!"

"Thor! That's what it was!"

"Ha-ha very funny," she hissed sarcastically, obviously not amused as her father chuckled at his own comment. She looked back down at the cake, dismissing his remark as she toyed with her fork. "And it's actually not his fault either, father. It was his brother's doing all along."

Her father paused for a moment, taking in the information. "How do you know about all of this?" he asked, a bit confused. "I mean, it's not like you read the paper, and I doubt you hear all this from gossip at the diner back at home…"

"It's still on the news, everywhere! And it's already been a few months!" she stressed, her voice becoming fervent. "On every station, they have a different tale. It's not like I can't not see it or hear about it. And anyway, I think it is extremely interesting to me-"

"You are a waiter at a three star restaurant, and you think that an extra-terrestrial apocalypse is interesting?" her father questioned, not seeing logic. "Doesn't seem like you at all… Is it because you have a crush on a ninety-year-old?"

"Captain America is not in his ninety's," she pointed out, irritated. "He is only about…twenty or thirty something."

"You mean he only looks twenty or thirty something," he teased. Meredith, seeing where this was going, got up from the wooden chair and gathered her plate and fork in her hands, carrying them to the kitchen sink, while her father still spoke. "In reality, he's in his late ninety's, and you, darling are twenty two and fresh out of college."

"Yes, but you still treat me like a child," she murmured, washing her dish and drying it completely. She drew a tupperware and its lid from the cabinet as she placed the plate back in its original position, coming back over to the table to cut another slice.

"Are you going over to the hospital then?" he asked, watching her put the dessert into the tupperware. She nodded.

"Yeah, do you want to come?"

Her father thought for a moment, but then declined. "I have to fill out some paperwork tonight."

"Oh goodness; don't they know it's your birthday, Father?" she argued, putting the lid on the tupperware. "Why don't you blow it off and come with me, just for tonight?"

"I can't just 'blow it off', darling. I have to go through it tonight." He sighed, getting up to take his plate away. "If I don't we will not be able to rebuild one of the hotels in Times Square." His voice echoed off the empty walls of the apartment.

"You've already rebuilt so much, though," she pointed out, but dropped the argument immediately. She knew her father was very important to many construction companies, and she wouldn't want to see him fail just because his daughter wanted to spend time with him on his birthday. "Where's it going to be at?" she asked, changing the subject.

Her father lazily put the plate in the sink, walking up to the floor-to-ceiling window on the far side of the apartment. He gestured her to come over, and she happily consented, coming up next to him. He pointed in a random direction. "There's a big open space next to Bryant Park," he explained while Meredith squinted in the direction. "It's going to be higher than all the other buildings around it."

Meredith observed, even if it was dark out, that every other building was close to a skyscraper. She estimated the size of this future hotel, and assumed that it would be a bit scary to spend the night in.

However, Meredith concluded with, "It's going to be beautiful." Her father silently agreed.

Slowly stepping away from her father's side, she walked back to the kitchen table, taking the tupperware in her arms and thinking whether or not to bring a fork. She decided against it.

"Alright, Father, I'm going to go then," she said as she stepped towards the coat rack, taking off an oversized hoodie. It somewhat clashed with her skater skirt, but she didn't care and pulled it over her head.

"Do you have your phone?" she heard her father ask. Meredith took the device out of her pocket and held it up for him to see, then replaced it. "Try to be back by 10:00, okay?" he continued. "If you need anything, just call."

"Alright," she complied, fixing her long hair into a ponytail. "I'll be back soon, I promise." He nodded.

With that, she tucked the tupperware between her arms and headed out the door, shutting and locking it behind her. Silence filled the apartment as her father continued staring at the shut door, standing against the backdrop of New York City with the empty wooden chair at his side.

The wind was an inundation of icy air, gusting through her sweatshirt as if it was sheer. However, instead of shivering like a chihuahua in a snowstorm, the wind felt refreshing on Meredith's fair skin. Summer in New York was brutal for her, especially since the average temperature in England was only in the high fifties. And the fact that their apartment was angled so the sun peaked in at almost every time of the day didn't help either. She breathed in the frosty wind like a welcomed friend.

The streets of New York were abandoned; which was strange even for a tourist like herself. Her father told her that it will never be like that ever again, but since almost everyone was evacuated from the area months before, Meredith had the streets all to herself, though she hadn't decided whether or not she liked it.

Walking along the crumpled pavement and the makeshift pathways, her wedged heels clicked upon the cement, echoing against both the rebuilt, and abandoned buildings that surrounded the streets. Her eyes were glued to the ground, in case of wobbly cement blocks or ditches that she couldn't see. She mentally noted how far away she was from the hospital, and decided she was almost halfway there. Meredith checked her phone; she was making excellent time. However, a shiver shot down her spine.

Someone wailed. Her instincts told her to stop.

Halting immediately, her ears strained for any sort of noise to tell her that she was not alone on the streets like she first thought. Her breath became slower, therefore quieter, but her heart raced faster that the wind that tore through her coat. So fast that she could hear the blood pumping through her ears.

It wasn't a groan, or a yell, but it was something in between. Another piercing cry illuminated the streets. She didn't have time to figure it out. Whatever it was, she knew that someone was in distress; someone needed help.

She began running towards the struggling being, it's form lost within the aura of darkness provided by the cityscape. It cried out again, but still, Meredith had no idea where she was going, nor did she know who, or where this person was. She stopped in her tracks, hearing it on the opposite side of the street.

In moments, she began turning in circles, not sure which way the voice was actually coming from. It was then did she realize that the screams were echoing off the buildings, just like her heels were, as she tried to move closer. Again, the person cried out, and this time, she concluded it was a man's voice.

Turning on her heel, she followed the voice, certain that it was not an echo off of the buildings. Her pace sped up; she began to run.

Thinking somewhat logically, her hands rummaged in her pockets for her cell phone, dropping the tupperware of lemon cake in the process. She didn't try to go back for it. Her hands touched the cool surface of her phone, and she wrestled it out of the pocket, turning a sharp corner to her right. Her fingers dialed the number 112 as she ran.

"The number you have dialed is unavailable in this state."

Meredith cursed internally as she strained herself to remember she was in the U.S. now, trying to dial 911 while sprinting. Her ankle almost twisted as she held the phone up to her ear.

"9-1-1 What is your emergency?"

Somewhat out of breath, she began to speak feverishly. "There is a man and…I don't know him or know where he's at…but I can hear him screaming for help…"

"Where is your location?" the hasty voice on the other side asked.

"New York," she stated, breathing hard, "Manhattan."

Silence followed Meredith's statement, and it stayed there for a few crucial moments. She took the phone away from her ear to make sure the department didn't hang up on her.

"Ma'am," the operator said, "I am being told that no police activity is allowed to be inside the city of Manhattan-"

"Excuse me?!" Meredith nearly yelled. It felt like she was just kicked in the ribs! "What do you mean 'no police activity'?" At this point, Meredith stopped her sprint towards the cries of the man in anguish to be able to catch her breath and think properly, without the lack of air getting to her head.

"I am sorry, Ma'am, but, as a national department of security, we have been told not to go into the city of Manhattan for any reasons."

"Bloody hell…" she murmured in a pained, frustrated tone, panting like a dog. "By who?" she challenged.

"SHIELD."

Meredith felt her entire being freeze for a second. She could not argue any longer now that SHIELD was involved in the exchange. She mentally cursed again.

"Is there anything I can do?" Meredith asked, gulping loudly in attempt to water her dry throat. "For the man?"

The operator didn't answer right away, though Meredith could hear some sort of commotion on the other side of the line. Finally, the operator answered, "I suggest you get to your shelter right away and take no part in this. We've contacted SHIELD and they will be coming to Manhattan in a matter of minutes."

Meredith almost choked. "SHIELD is coming here?" she asked, making sure she heard correctly.

"Yes," the operator answered swiftly. "What street are you currently on?"

It took her a few moments to gather her thoughts before she could even begin to gather her actions. If she thought her heart was racing before…

"21st and Broadway," she stated quickly, her head whirling around to the makeshift street signs that were put there for the soul purpose of construction. She heard the operator repeat the street names on the other side of the line, most likely informing SHIELD.

"Thank you for your report," the operator concluded in a hurry. "Please get to shelter as soon as possible."

With that, the commotion on the other side of the line went mute.

Now, all Meredith could hear was the sound of her own breathing, her breath visible in the frosty air. She slowly lowered the phone from her ear, trying her best to gather her rampant thoughts. The fact that SHIELD was approaching the city she was in boggled her mind. Would she be able to see them from her apartment window? Would they praise her for reporting this situation? Would she be able to meet an Avenger? Doubtful, but she allowed herself to daydream.

She began walking back to her apartment, just as the operator instructed her to do, even with the strong winds practically pushing her backward. Her poor mother; Meredith promised herself that she would go see her tomorrow. She so desperately wanted to see the confrontation between SHIELD and-

The man cried out again, and with that, her short, carefree trance was broken.

Meredith's feet stopped immediately on their own accord. Her heartstrings began to ache with the generous need to help the man. He, no doubt, was still in agony, and her, perfectly capable of helping, was walking away. Meredith could help this man, she was almost positive. What if he was stuck inside a dangerous construction machine and by the time SHIELD got to him, it was too late? What if he needed help now?

Another wail, and she gave up. Throwing safety concerns out the window, she continued to dash for the man, the thought that SHIELD would be able to save her if something went terribly wrong comforting her, and giving her courage to run faster.

Her heart raced with adrenaline as she ran straight into the unknown. Meredith wasn't even paying attention to the streets she turned at. The tie that held her hair didn't stand a chance against the harsh winds, and the pace of Meredith's sprint. Her brown hair began clouding her vision, but she instantly tucked it behind her ears, the cries becoming louder, closer, until-

Her feet skidded to a stop, ducking into a darkened alleyway almost immediately, catching her ragged breath. Her heart hammered furiously on her chest, threatening to break out in a matter of seconds. Her hand went over her mouth to quiet her breathing.

She peeked out from behind the brick building, watching as two men- Meredith realized she wasn't hearing the cries of just one- beat each other with brutal force. They most definitely weren't a drunk couple betting on who would win in a fistfight; they were fighting as if to kill. Meredith's heart could not seem to slow.

What should she do? No doubt SHIELD was at the city's limit by now, but judging by the glistening, red liquid that oozed down both of the men's faces and knuckles, she feared that the fight wouldn't last for much longer. They were both obviously skilled, and most likely trained in the art of combat, each of them wearing a crisp black suit as the life was sucked from the both of them.

One man cornered the other, getting a much-too-firm hold on the other's neck. His grip became visibly tighter by the second, and Meredith could not seem to avert her eyes from the horrific seen. How she wanted too, but she couldn't! His neck was about to twist, and he was about to die! Oh God, she was about to witness a murder!

"Let him go!"

Who said that? It certainly wasn't Meredith- she didn't have enough courage to shout such things! Then why was she standing in the middle of the alleyway walking towards the two men? Why was her hand pointing towards them instead of covering her eyes? Why were they now staring at her like she was the one about to murder someone? Oh God, what did she do?

The first man, that was previously being strangled, looked at her through desperate eyes, looking both thankful and confused, like he wasn't sure why she saved him. She wasn't either. The second was less than happy to see her.

"Stay out of this, girl," the second man yelled, barely even sparing her a glance. His head was shaved perfectly, like he just did it earlier that night. The first man looked closer to her age, with his eyes still glued to her, which frightened her a bit. However, his gaze broke as the man with the shaved head struck him in the cheek with a bloodied fist.

"Stop it!" she pleaded, still coming closer. Why was she coming closer?

The younger man instantly fought back, but she could tell who the better fighter was of the two. As Meredith got into a meters distance from them, her arm reached out and yanked the older man's shoulder back, her hand feeling bulging muscles even through the tailored coat. This gave the other man a perfect opportunity to strike back. And he did. Meredith saw the older man's eyes roll to the back of his head for a moment, but then snap back into place almost instantly.

"You stupid girl!" he hissed as he fought his anger at her out on the younger man, shoving Meredith away with brut force. She grunted as she fell to her back, but recovered to her feet quickly. However, instead of interfering once more, she stayed a safe distance away, still shouting at the two.

"Stop this madness instantly! You'll kill each other!" It was as if they didn't even hear her. Meredith yelled louder. "You're both hurt! You're both going to-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence, for the thunderous drill of a helicopter's rotors made her voice impossible to sustain. The wind around the alleyway began to blow wildly in a whirlpool-like pattern, lifting Meredith's hair towards the sky. She whipped her head up, seeing the definite shape of the helicopter hovering directly above them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two men gazing in the same direction of her.

A moment later, Meredith was blinded by a white light, the aircraft projecting a light down on them as she instantly looked away, her hands covering her eyes in a desperate attempt to regain her vision. A woman's voice broadcasted on the speaker, making her heart jump.

"Agent Kaminski, put your hands where I can see them."

However, before Meredith could even look up to see which man the lady in the helicopter was referring too, the younger man bolted in her direction, shoving her out of his way and running out into the main street. Her head smacked against the new cement wall, her body instantly crumpling to the ground. The man with the shaved head instantly sprinted after him, and the sound of the helicopter siren howled after him. She was left alone.

As the siren quieted, Meredith gawked around with dizzy eyes. Her mind span with thoughts of everything and nothing, slowly, but surely, returning to their natural state. She groaned as her hand reached for the back of her head, trying to soothe the dull, painful beating of her skull. She focused on her breathing as her hand felt for blood. There was none. A wave of relief washed over her.

She tried to stand, using the wall to balance her fragile state. Her sight became fuzzy, and she instantly returned back to the ground, collapsing on her knees. The wind howled now, chilling her with unearthly wickedness. She began to shiver, wrapping her arms around her torso.

She thought of how she managed to get herself into a situation like this, her head resting against the cool cement. It was her curiosity, she admitted, however something else contributed. It was her selfishness, she was sure. If she weren't so selfish in seeing SHIELD up close, she would already be home with her father.

And her poor father, how worried he must be. He was most likely watching the entire scene from the apartment window, with no way of knowing if his daughter is out there in danger. No way, except…

Meredith didn't waste another moment and immediately began rummaging through her pockets to find her phone, discovering it already lit up with the notification of several missed calls from her father. She felt dread building up inside her with the guilt of making herself seem like she was being chased by a SHIELD helicopter. Meredith instantly called him back, putting the phone up to her ear.

She listened to it ring as her eyes lazily scanned the dark alleyway, the helicopter's beat somewhere in the distance, too far away to hear at all. The sudden sound of footsteps made her heart jump.

"Meredith? Meredith, where in God's name are you?"

She pulled the phone away from her ear, trying to listen for the strange footsteps that continued to get louder and louder by the second. She wondered who would be stupid enough to be out at a time like this….

The phone fell out of her hand.

After rounding the corner, their eyes met for the longest moment, the only sound illuminating the quiet night was Meredith's father yelling from the other side of the line. She couldn't move for her phone, or even adjust her eyes away, and after another few moments, the man noticed this. He ran to her in a pleasant, but hasty pace.

"Aren't you going to get that?" he finally asked, gesturing towards the phone on the ground as he slowed his jog to a stop. Meredith didn't even make a move. She was star struck, continuing to lock eyes with him.

Seeing that Meredith wasn't about to move anytime soon, he bent down and picked up her now cracked phone, holding it to his ear.

"Meredith!" her father yelled, "where are you?! Are you with your mother?!"

"No, sir, she is with me," the man answered casually, folding his arms across his chest while flashing a smile to her. She couldn't respond to him with a smile of her own. Hell, she couldn't even close her mouth!

"And who is 'me'?" her father demanded, his tone plagued with panic.

"Sir," the man responded, "you needn't worry. My name is Steve Rodgers, but you may know me as Captain America."

Please R&R, I love feedback! It makes me write faster, I promise!