Author's Notes: Avenger's bandwagon ggoooooo!

Haha, this is something that is fun to write, funny to read and something I don't plan on being more than, like, 5 chapters long. So, yeah. Captain America trying to get used to the modern world! Only I decided to opt out of the cliche 'female SHIELD agent/superhero is assigned to help him assimilate and they end up falling in love'. So if you're looking fro something a bit more down to earth, look no further :)

M is for language, though I'm thinking there might be something 'more' a bit later ;) Ooohhh, I'm evil! Anywho, let me know if there is a particular thing you want to see happen in the story, I'm writing this just for fun so don't expect too much in-depth plot thingymajigs.

Enjoy!

Why in the world did Steve let Tony talk him into doing this? It wasn't like he could even get drunk, so why bother taking him to a bar? And where the hell had Tony gone?

These thoughts passed quickly through Steve Roger's head as he leaned nervously against the bar, waiting for Tony to come back from wherever he had disappeared to. The night was still young but the guys had already had some drinks back at Stark Tower before Tony had come up with this ridiculous idea. As mentioned before, Steve couldn't actually get drunk so the alcohol couldn't be blamed for his judgment call, or lack-there-of, for letting Mr. Stark talk him into this.

"Really, there are so many people impersonating me, and really, who could blame them, and no one really knows what you actually look like under all that…" Tony motioned broadly to Steve's physique with his hands, "star-spangled, uh, uniform? Is that what you like to call it? Because I think leotard is really more accurate."

"You had a point coming?" Steve said as he rolled his eyes in annoyance. Tony was already buzzed but that couldn't account for the fact that he took an opportunity to make fun of his uniform any chance he could get. "And I think you said the word 'really' about four times in that sentence."

"I think what Stark is trying to say is that it might do you some good to get out a bit more; as strange as that might sound coming from me," came Bruce Banner's slow voice, very much in contrast with Tony's fast-paced and jumpy banter.

"Exactly, what he said. And you know I would totally take you out too if I thought you might not, you know… uh…"

"No, no, it's all right, I'm not really into that kind of thing anyway," Bruce responded, nursing his highball. He only ever had one and it took him forever to drink it.

Turning his attention back on Steve, Tony expanded on his idea, "Look, there's this great sports bar I've heard of, a real no-name kind of joint where people won't even care if we look familiar. They'll probably think we're just copycats anyway, so to speak."

He waited a whole two seconds for Steve to reply; which, incidentally, was not nearly enough time for the Captain to process the idea.

"Come on, it could be fun!"

"…"

"Great! Get dressed! And I don't mean what you're wearing now; it'd boring. Something that doesn't scream 'military-civies'."

And so Steve now finds himself taking a drink from his beer, which wasn't even all that good, and searching the crowded sports bar with his eyes, trying to figure out where Tony was and why he had left him standing at the bar.

Finally he caught sight of the billionaire walking back toward him. Though, to his great displeasure, the man was surrounded by a small gaggle of very made-up women at least 10 years younger that him.

"Ladies, I'd like you to meet my friend here, Mr. Rogers. Ah, but don't let him fool you, his polite charms are only a guise to hide what he can really do with those sweater-vests."

An eruption of laughter came from the girls as if they were one body. Steve didn't understand Tony's line, he doesn't even own a sweater-vest, but the looks some of the girls were now giving him and the tone of Tony's voice when he'd said it made the soldier blush with uncertainty.

"Don't be shy Sir, say hi to our new friends," Tony said, giving Steve a grin that said he'd had too much to drink and was having way too much fun with the situation.

"Uh, hi, um, ladies," Steve managed to get out, crossing his arms over his chest. The action made him look like he was more relaxed, but it was really more of a self-conscious thing. One of the women draped her arm over his shoulder and asked, in a strong vodka smelling voice, if 'Mr. Rogers,' had a first name.

Tony moved to stand next to the Captain and half whispered in his ear, "I'm going to take these two over to the dance floor. You should loosen up and see if you can't get to know one, or all, of these ladies by the end of the night, m'kay?"

"Wait what? Tony- TONY! Tony you can't just leave me here with- … … uh, hi."

Steve shot Tony's retreating back a searing look as the remaining three women closed in on him.

One of them, a blond, giggled, "You already said hi. Buy us a drink, handsome?" she asked while batting heavily massacred eyes at him. Steve took a deep breath to calm himself, but then did a double take.

"Are, are you under-aged?" he asked, practically squinting at the blond to see past her very made-up face. She now looked offended and protested loudly about how she 'was here, wasn't she?'

"Uh… I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to be rude," Steve tried to amend. Oh goodness, this was going to be a llooonnggg night.

Though maybe not as long as it had first seemed; just as he was starting to wonder how to get out of this mess, a voice he didn't recognize came from behind him.

"Hey bitch, this is my boyfriend your messing with so why don't you back off?"

Turning to see whom the voice belonged to, Steve was met with a dark haired woman behind the bar, dressed in black and obviously an employee. Her eyes didn't even acknowledge him as she stared down the three girls with a vicious look.

"Oh really? And who the fuck do you think you are to control who he wants to flirt with?" One of the girls, a brunette, responded. She almost spilled her drink as her body swayed to convey attitude.

"I'm the bitch whose gonna throw your asses out of here for underage drinking. So why not make this easy and get the fuck out before I call the cops," the mystery bartender said, not even blinking an eye. Steve marveled at her control and watched, awestruck, as the three girls dispersed. Though, not before the blond flipped the woman off in a pale attempt at vengeance.

"Wow, that was… thank you," was all he could say, turning back to the bar. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"No problem, sorry about the boyfriend thing. That sometimes works to scare them off and you looked desperate," she said with an easy smile that softened her features from what they were just a minute ago. "I'm Lucy, by the way."

"Steve Rogers. Do you do that often?" He asked with a smile of his own while relaxing on his bar stool.

"Haha, no, not usually. Only if I think the guy it's happening to really doesn't deserve it." Her laugh was light-hearted and clear. "Of course, if the guy is as cute as you that tends to help my decision making process," she added in a flirting tone.

"Heh, do I really look that out of place here?" Steve asked with a chuckle of his own. The bar was almost nothing like the bars were from his time. Well, sure there were the drunks that would always be present, but the whole scene was different in so many small ways. The amount of women vs. men, the clothing, the music, the company… even most of the drinks were foreign to him. His sense of being uncomfortable must have shown in his eyes because Lucy put down the cup she had been drying and filled it with a scotch.

"Here, on the house. And don't worry about those people, it's nothing to be ashamed of if you don't care to get shit-faced with the rest of those ass-holes," her language was coarse but her intentions were kind and Steve appreciated it. Of course, it helped he found it humorous that Tony Stark was one of those 'shit-faced ass-holes' on the floor she had just referred to. He'd have to tell Banner about that one later.

"So, Mr. Rogers, what brings a straight-laced guy like you to a dump like this?" Lucy asked, bringing Steve's mind back to the bar. She took down a martini glass and began mixing something another bartender had ordered, but kept her attention on him.

"Ah, my, uh, friend thought I needed to get out and 'experience the world more'; as he put it," he responded after taking a drink from the glass. The scotch burnt his throat, but it was good; too bad it wouldn't do anything though. "And, you can call me Steve, ma'am."

"Alright Steve, but you better stop calling me ma'am or I'll take that drink back and kick your ass right off that stool." Steve couldn't help but laugh at the playful tone in her voice, but the obviously serious look her eyes had taken on.

"Yes ma'am- uh! I meant, Lucy… duly noted," came his military-trained response.

"What are you, a soldier? You sound like you just came from the army," Lucy was teasing, though she obviously didn't know how close she was.

"Well, yes, actually, I am in the military. Well, sort of. I mean, I was in the military, but now I'm with something else, but it's complicated… uh, I guess-"

"Okay, okay I get it, you're an soldier-boy," she managed to stop him mid-stumble as he tried to explain the very complicated position his career currently fell under. To avoid the look of slight embarrassment on his cheeks, Steve took another sip of scotch.

"So, are you from around here? I mean, from Brooklyn?" Steve asked, breaking the small silence that had formed while Lucy filled some orders and Steve finished his scotch.

"Ha, why? Are you not?" she asked with that light-hearted laugh again. The sound was almost warm and it made Steve smile to hear it.

"I am, originally. I guess you could say I haven't been back here in a very long time. To be honest I can barely recognize the place sometimes."

"Okay, so you're not just some tourist. We don't get many tourists here, so I usually assume people are from the area," she said. "How long has it been since you were here last?"

"Ah… I… very young. I mean, I was really young… when I left," he lied. Well, maybe it wasn't a complete lie. He was only about 18 when he was recruited after all.

"I see. Well I'll tell you what, soldier-boy, I've got to keep working but if you ever want someone to show you around… let me know," she said with a coy smile as she wrote something down and slid him a piece of paper. Steve could barely look away from her eyes as she did this but came out of the trance when he remembered the paper.

Confused, he opened the folded piece and his eyes widened in a dawning recognition of what had just happened. Well then, this could be interesting.