A/N: So I know I have like three other stories I should be working on, but this idea just wouldnt go away. There will be some fluff and angst and smut and you might see a side of Steve you don't expect. Also expect some sad.

Trigger warnings for pregnancy and miscarriage.

I had always thought that I was a happy and well adjusted person. I wasn't rich by any standard, but I had never gone hungry and was provided for and supported. I had lost my mother at a very young age, leaving me and my twin sister Reagan in the care of my father. He was a good man, who owned his own auto shop, and had always worked hard to be a family man. He loved us and provided for us and raised us the best he could on his own, while teaching us all there was to know about mechanics and sports and still managing to play barbies and have tea parties. I loved my dad and it was because of him and the love of mechanics he taught me that I studied mechanical engineering with an emphasis in automotive in college.

And it was there of course that I met a guy. The guy. Ian Jacobson. He was charming and sweet and funny and all the things everyone says you should look for in the one. He had his faults, no one is perfect, but so did I and we meshed. We dove right in, getting engaged right after we both graduated, after 6 months of dating. We were sure of each other and wanted to get married, start our lives and start a family. And I was ready.

I went back home to NY to work for my dad's auto shop, despite his insistence that I was 'better than that' and could get any job I wanted with my fancy degree. I knew that was probably true, but I wanted to be close to him in his old age as well as my sister, who had decided against college.

Reagan, or Ray as my dad dubbed her, considered herself an artist, a free spirit, not one to be tied down by what society dictated as 'normal'. That also meant she couldn't hold down one job for more than three months at a time, but she lived with our dad and they supported each other, my dad doing the financial part and my sister keeping up with the household chores and making sure my dad got three meals a day. She had always been my polar opposite despite the fact that we were identical. And still we were so alike in many ways, we always got along even with differing opinions. She supported me and encouraged me, even though she didn't want the same life I did. I knew I would always have her.

'The Snap' as it had come to be called came suddenly and with no warning for the regular civilians of the world. Half the population gone, in seconds, with no discretion. Men, women, children, of all races and ages, there was no pattern. There was no chance to say goodbye, no chance to tell your loved ones that you loved them. No warning that could give you the chance to say something you should have always said or make amends. Some watched in horror as their family, friends, coworkers dissolved into a pile of a dust, blown away into the breeze, too gently and peacefully for what it was. Some had no idea what had happened, their loved ones were just 'missing' and presumed 'dusted'. I considered them the lucky ones, the ones who didn't have to watch in horror as it occurred.

I had been one of the unlucky ones. Completely oblivious to the fact that my life was going to take a turn for the worst. That everything was going to change and I would lose everything.

I found out I was pregnant 7 months after Ian and I were engaged. Ian was ecstatic. I was hesitant. I had wanted to be married first. And to be in our own home, not living in a shoebox sized apartment we paid an arm and leg for in the city. Ian eased all my fears and reservations with promises and assurances. I put my faith in him and we both decided we were going to be parents. Great parents. We had been on our way to an ultrasound appointment when The Snap occurred, bubbling with excitement to find out the sex of our child. Reagan, in the backseat, equally excited for us just as my dad was. We had been talking and laughing, Ian driving us down the freeway while discussing potential baby names. We hadn't heard the reports of the alien ship that had touched down yet, we hadn't heard that Tony Stark, Iron Man, was missing. We were living in our blissful bubble. We were too engrossed in our own lives to know trouble was brewing.

I don't remember much about the crash and I was thankful for that. I just remembered watching in wide eyed terror as Ian began to disappear, starting with his hands, his face turning to a mixture of shock and fear while he watched particles of himself float away. He turned to me, even in that moment of his own demise, worry for me in his eyes, my name echoed off his lips just before he was gone. A pile of dust in his place. I had been too stunned to do anything, time seeming to standstill. Tears were on my face and I could hear screaming, but at the time didn't realize that it was me that was screaming. I looked to the backseat to find Reagan gone, a pile of dust where she once was. And then the car crashed.

I woke up in the hospital weeks later. Injured. Alone. Confused. I had hoped that it had been a dream, that I had undergone some pregnancy induced bizarre day nightmare. A nurse and a doctor came in, explaining to me with shared expressions of confusion and hints of fear that people had just disappeared, half the population, and that included my sister and fiance. And I would later find out my father as well. More terrible news followed, my injuries, which were severe and almost life threatening to me, had caused me to miscarry. They told me that I had been carrying a girl.

The world was plunged into chaos after The Snap, the government struggling to maintain control as people panicked. There were riots and looting, people worried about a food shortage with half the population gone, it meant half the workforce that farmed and produced said food was gone too. Hospitals were understaffed. Schools closed. Businesses closed with their owners 'dusted' or due to the fact there just weren't enough people to run them or enough demand. The police and the armed forces sending who they could to try and calm the storm. And all the while people dealt with their own personal losses.

It wasn't until a year had passed that the world truly found out what had happened, what had caused the great loss. An alien, a titan with a plan, a false sense of purpose, had gathered up some magical stones, giving him enough power so that with a mere snap of his fingers he could wipe out half the planet. And the Avengers, Earth's mightiest heroes, couldn't defeat him, not that they stood a chance from what was reported. And they suffered losses of their own. Because of this alien.

Thanos.

Thanos had become the person that I hated most in the world. And I had never even met the guy.

Another year passed and things calmed down. The government stepped in and made programs to support the people in need. To make sure that everyone got food and water and that we all somehow coped and tried to move on with our lives. People actually came together, supported one another, a nice calm after the storm, a sense of community amongst humanity. It would have been nice, if we all hadn't suffered and lost much first.

After a long hospital stay I was released. I went home to an empty apartment, with no Ian, no Reagan, no dad, and worst of all no daughter. It was hard, trying to cope and understand and just survive. My father's business closed due to lack of demand, the shortage of staff, and without my father's presence it just didn't feel the same. And so I found myself with no family and jobless. I had money, from Ian's life insurance and from my father, who left me and my sister everything of course, but I knew it wouldn't last long. I could have moved back to my childhood home, but just as running the business without my dad, it didn't feel right to live there without him or Reagan. I sunk into depression and despair like most, riddled with sadness and anxiety wondering just how I was going to go on living after losing everyhing.

A friend reached out, one that I hadnt seen since college, Sarah, a young girl that I had taken a few classes with and hung out a few times. We bumped into eachother as I wondered the streets of New York aimlessly, trying to tell myself that getting out of my apartment and getting some fresh air would do me good. She offered to buy me some lunch, an offer I refused at first, but after her insistence I agreed. It was her that told me about the free group and individual therapy sessions that were offered by the government, the ones that were specifically for people who suffered great losses due to the The Snap. She herself went and found them helpful, offering to take me to one, another offer that I at first refused, but found myself at a group session three days later. It was the group sessions that made me want to take individual ones as well. So I became a regular, at both group and having private appointments with a therapist, I went to deal, and slowly, very slowly I started to feel like a person, finding the will to live again.

It was Sarah who told me about the open position at the Avengers compound. She worked in the Stark labs at the compound and had heard about a position that needed to be filled; and knowing that I had nothing, and needed work, needed something, she encouraged me to apply after putting in a good word for me. It was because of her that I found myself in Tony Stark's office, sitting across from Tony Stark himself. He was staring at my resume with a scrutinized frown while I sat in my seat wondering how I had missed the fact that this position was to be his personal assistant.

"You're too qualified for this position," he spoke finally, looking up from my resume. He said it definitively.

"That doesn't bother me, Sir." It didn't. I would take the job.

"It bothers me. Bright girl like you, I feel like your talents could be put to good use elsewhere," he continued.

"There is no where else for me, sir. No mechanic shop in NY is hiring, they're barely staying afloat. I know this because I had to close down my father's shop which had been open for 30 years. I know I have a fancy degree in mechanical engineering, but automotive is really where my heart is and if I can't do that then I'd rather do something else." It was the truth. But again, I'd take anything.

"The job is demanding. I'm demanding," he touched his chest. He was still trying to deter me.

"That's fine, sir. I can be very accommodating."

"The hours are crazy. I might call you in the middle of the night."

I shrugged. "I don't sleep much. And I don't have anything, but time. I'm very organized. I manage my time well and I can put my heart and soul into this job." Because I have nothing else to put my heart and soul into.

Tony's eyebrow arched, he watched me for what felt like an eternity before leaning forward and putting his elbows on his desk.

"When can you start?" He asked.

We discussed what the job entailed in detail and again Tony warned me that the job would be demanding, that he was demanding and, in his own words, frankly annoying, which I picked up on quickly. He would need to be able to call me at any time, even in the middle of the night, I would need to be available at a drops notice and my schedule would be all over the place. But I would have one designated day off a week for sure, and I would be compensated well. Very well.

I started work two days later. I arrived bright and early, dressed in clothes I was not accustomed to, a black pencil skirt, navy blue blouse, and shoes with a low enough heel that my feet wouldn't be killing me and I wouldn't trip, but as Tony Stark's assistant I would have to dress a certain way or so I assumed. Jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers were more my forte, but work was work.

I met Tony in his office first, finding him sitting at his desk gazing at paperwork and looking immensely bored. He brightened when he saw me. "Ah, Andrea, right on time."

"Please, call me Andy... if you want," I said stopping just short of his desk. That was the nickname given to me by my dad and what everyone called me. Only my mother had called me Andrea.

"Andy?" Tony frowned, one eyebrow arching.

"My dad who desperately wanted two sons had two daughters," I kept the explanation short. It was enough for Tony.

"Oh," he said with a nod. "Andy it is. I have something for you." He rounded the desk and handed me something that looked like a small phone the size of an iPhone. He touched the screen and hologram appeared with regular phone icons floating above it. "This is synced up to my phone's calendar and contacts and has access to F.R.I.D.A.Y. who is your back up and basically runs this whole building. It's also how I can reach you and vice versa. It's completely secure and feel free to use it for personal use of course. F.R.I.D.A.Y., say hi to Andy."

"Hello Andy, is it okay if I call you Andy, Ms. Dawson?" A female voice with a Scottish accent asked from out of thin air.

I managed to keep myself from jumping, even though I was startled. "Uh, yes, that's fine...er... F.R.I.D.A.Y," I answered looking around.

"Come on, I'll show you around and introduce you to the team and then you can familiarize yourself with my current calendar and projects, and that's something that F.R.I.D.A.Y can help you with too. She'll have you up to speed in no time," Tony strolled past me out of the office and I moved quickly to follow. "One thing I will say is that I hardly ever want to do anything so if you can get me out of it or get someone else to do it, please do so, the less time I have to spend outside of the lab or away from Pepper the better, we clear?"

"Crystal, sir."

"None of that sir stuff, Andy, you're gonna make me feel old," he scoffed. "No Mr. Stark either. You can call me Tony."

"Okay...Tony."

"See, we're well on our way to being friends and not just boss and employee," he strode purposefully down the hall to a set of elevators. "The main floor is the entrance and security stations and a library, cafeteria, etc. You saw all that, and the second floor is the office building, the third floor holds the labs and medical center and gym, and lastly the fourth floor is the Avengers living quarters. Well what's left of them anyway," I detected a hint of sadness in his voice. "They have their own rooms up there and a shared living and kitchen area. You wont need to go up there much and you do need special clearance to get up there which you will have, you'll just have to set up a clearance code with F.R.I.D.A.Y." The elevator doors opened and we both stepped on. "Second floor, F.R.I.D.A.Y."

It was when the elevator whizzed to the second floor that I realized I was about to meet the Avengers...or what was left of them. I had saw the news like everyone else, I had seen the memorials of them as well. They were the ones that had tried to save and protect us from Thanos. And they had failed. I didn't blame them though as some had. I knew despite having abilities and being superheroes they really were just people, just like the rest of us, and they had lost people too.

We breezed through the second floor, Tony stopping here and there to introduce me to someone or point something out. We came to a closed door near the corner of the building, Tony barely knocking once on the door before he pressed it open and walked in with the confidence of someone who owned the building. My heart started to race a little, when I realized just whose office this was, spotting the broad frame of Captain America sitting at a desk, hunched over paperwork, one large hand holding his head while the other held a pen.

I knew who he was, of course, everyone did. And last I had heard before The Snap, he was a criminal and fugitive, on the run for helping the man who had bombed the UN during the accords. That all seemed like forever ago now. And I was assuming he had been forgiven, given that he was back to working and living at the Avengers compound. He wasn't the clean shaven version of him that you could see on the exhibit of him at the Smithsonian anymore. He was sporting a full beard and much longer hair that was slicked back from his face. He didn't bother to look up as Tony sauntered in, the Captain's shoulders sagging as he let out a sigh.

"What now, Tony?" He asked with polite irritation, his voice steady, only mild amounts of aggravation slipping through.

"I am not here to annoy you, Capsicle," Tony said stopping at his desk and beckoning me forward from where I had halted near the door. "I want you to meet my new assistant. Andrea Dawson. Andy. She goes by Andy."

Steve looked up at those words, his blue eyes catching sight of me. And I immediately felt breathless. The man was gorgeous, and not average mildly good looking gorgeous. He was double take, stop and stare gorgeous. He was tall, his eyes as blue as sapphires, his hair perfectly dirty blonde, and I'm certain he just paints his clothes on every morning because no one's muscles should stand out that much. The man was any woman's walking wet dream. I felt a little star struck, surprised and embarrassed at my own reaction to the man. He looked mildly surprised for a few seconds, his eyes glancing between me and Tony before he was standing and leaning across the desk offering me a hand. A polite smile was on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes.

And I was also shaking his hand way too long.

"Captain Rogers, it's a pleasure to meet you," I spoke finally.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Dawson. And please, call me Steve."

There was a tingle in my cheeks, one that came out of nowhere. Was I blushing? I still hadn't let go of his hand even though we had stopped shaking. Tony stepped forward with a frown.

"Okay, I am starting to get a little jealous. She was nowhere near this giddy to meet me. Release my assistant's hand, Capsicle, thank you." I came to my senses, and I pulled my hand away. "She's not here for you, she's here for me. So no fraternizing."

Steve scowled at Tony. "I require all her attention. You know how needy I am. Come on Andy, stop gawking at the Captain."

I wasn't gawking...that much. I followed Tony out of the office, daring to look back over my shoulder to find the sapphires on me, Steve still standing, his hands in his pockets, the smile gone from his face.

"It was nice to meet you," I offered with a wave.

He lifted one hand from his pocket and waved back. "See you around Ms. Dawson."

Three months of being Tony's assistant passed by far too quickly. He had not been lying when he said that he was a needy and demanding person or that my schedule would be crazy. I got my one day off a week as promised, but it was random and whatever day he deemed fit, usually calling or texting me at an ungodly hour to say Take the day off Andy, see you tomorrow, on any given day.

My day usually started at 6:00 am and I was lucky to be home by 8:00 p.m., most of my time spent answering Tony's correspondence for him, running his errands, and keeping him from doing any actual work that he didn't find enjoyable. I was supposed to be his face when he didn't want to show. Which was often. He was working on some big secret project with Dr. Banner, one that usually occupied his time far more than anything else. And one that he didn't want anyone else besides myself and his small team to know about. I still didn't know what the project was, but he had told me of its importance.

He praised me constantly with a 'good work kid' -even though I am well into my twenties- or a 'what would I do without you, Andy'. There were times of course that he was not so nice, and he was grumpy and irritable and short. It was those times that I had to remind myself that I did actually like my job and the money and forced myself to grin and bear it. He usually made up for it the following day, not actually apologizing, but offering a kind gesture of buying me lunch or letting me take off earlier than usual.

As much as I loved my job I did need a breather sometimes and enjoyed keeping to myself when I did find the time to take a break. I had gone up to the roof once, just to try and leave the hustle and bustle of the compound and found it calm and peaceful up there. It became my go to spot to take a break or eat my lunch.

I found myself working later than usual one night, having to edit a speech Tony had written to give to the graduating class of MIT and decided to take a break from the speech editing and eat my lunch I had been too busy for earlier. I was sitting on the ledge of the roof, my feet dangling over the side, enjoying a sandwich and the silence of the early evening.

"Hi."

I screamed, embarrassingly loud, nearly jumping out of my skin and falling right over the edge, my sandwich falling from my hands and to the ground below. I felt two large hands grab my shoulders, keeping me on the edge, my head whipping around to see Steve Rogers standing behind me with wide eyes and an apologetic smile. My heart hammered in my chest and I turned quickly, jumping down from the ledge and staring up at the man before me.

"Jesus fucking Christ Captain Rogers, are you trying to kill me?" I barked angrily.

I froze. I had just cursed at Captain America, the poster boy for goodness and freedom and all things perfect in this world. Also technically my superior.

"Oh my god, I just cursed at Captain America," I groaned to myself covering my face with both hands. When I found the courage to drop them I found Steve staring at me with a mixture of concern and surprise. I cleared my throat and adjusted my blouse. "Excuse my language, Captain Rogers, you...startled me."

I hadn't interacted with Steve very much in the past three months. We saw each other in passing or when I had to relay a message from Tony or pick up his notes on a mission brief, he was always polite, saying hi, but that had been the extent of our interactions. Quick and short. And me being star struck by his presence had quickly worn off. He wasn't the Captain America I had imagined from the pictures and video clips I had seen of him or the exhibits I had seen. He was quiet and sullen during the times I did see him, and when a smile did grace his face, it never reached his eyes. I imagined he was having a hard time dealing with his own losses after The Snap the same as all of us.

"No, Ms. Dawson, I'm sorry. I don't know why I thought saying hi to someone who wasn't aware of my presence and sitting on the edge of a roof would be a good idea," he shook his head, that apologetic smile returning to his face. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, glancing down at myself for confirmation. My heart was still pounding and I was breathing heavily, the adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, but no damage had been done. "Yeah, I'm fine, but I lost my sandwich," I sighed walking back over to the ledge and looking over to see it splattered on the ground below.

Steve came to stand beside me, leaning over to see. He rubbed the back of his head with one hand, looking guilty. "Sorry about that…"

"It's fine," I leaned against the ledge. "I probably should be having a more substantial dinner anyway…" I looked up at him. "What brings you to the roof this evening, Captain? You weren't looking for me were you?"

Steve shook his head. "No, I wasn't. I didn't even know you were up here. I just come up here to think sometimes. It's nice and quiet," he answered crossing his arms over his broad chest.

I felt stupid for asking. He'd only need to look for me if he needed something from Tony and he and Tony liked minimal amounts of communication as possible. I had barely seen them interact, unless absolutely necessary. "Oh, then I should go," I said reaching for my coat. "Give you some privacy."

"No, please," Steve replied quickly holding up his hands. "I'm the one that came up here and scared you almost to your literal death and made you drop your dinner. I should go."

I hesitated, looking around the large roof top. "I think that this roof is big enough for the two of us. I don't mind if you stay, if you don't mind the company… or I can go to the other side..."

"No. It's fine. It's uh… it's been awhile since I had company," he admitted with a timid nod. "It will be nice."

"Are you sure?" I asked. He seemed apprehensive about the idea. "I don't want to bother-."

"It's no bother," he cut in, sitting on the ledge and swinging his legs over. "Join me. Please."

I paused, just for a few seconds before I sat on the ledge putting enough distance between us that I hoped he didn't feel crowded. Silence fell over us, but it wasn't awkward, it was almost peaceful. I didn't feel an obligation to speak, just looked out at the expanse of trees that surrounded the compound as the sun set behind them. Sunsets had always been my favorite. It was during a sunset that I had kissed Ian for the first time and he had proposed during a particularly beautiful sunset. They would always be bittersweet to me because of that, I had always loved them but they would remind me of what I lost forever now.

"I like sunsets," Steve commented surprising me. I looked over to see him staring off into the distance with glossy eyes. "They always look beautiful. No two are ever exactly alike, but yet it's always the same. A sure thing."

I smiled. "Sunsets have always been my favorite."

He turned his sapphire eyes on me, catching my gaze and pondering me for a moment. "Are you new to New York?"

I blinked at his question. I hadn't expected small talk. "No. Born and raised here actually. Just outside the city. I'd ask if you were but I've seen your exhibit at the smithsonian a bunch of times and I may or may not have googled you once…" Steve's eyebrows went up and he smiled, this one seeming genuine and reaching his eyes. "So I feel like I know all there is to know about you," I chuckled.

"Well this isn't fair then," he replied crossing his arms again. "Because I know nothing about you."

"There's not much to tell," I answered looking down at my shoes. "I'm just a boring girl who happens to be the personal assistant to a billionaire." I shrugged.

"I doubt that…"

I glanced at Steve. "And how would you know, Captain?"

"Everybody's got a story. And I'm a good reader of people and judge of character," he said, his expression serious. "And you don't seem like a boring person at all."

"Well I think you'll be disappointed to find out that you're wrong. I'm not that interesting. Really," I insisted with a wave of my hand.

"Well tell me about yourself and let me decide," he urged.

"You want to hear my boring life story?" I quirked an eyebrow and looked at him incredulously.

"You know my boring life story, so it's only fair," he countered.

I laughed. "Captain, your life story is far from boring."

He chuckled softly, but gave me a pointed expectant look. "So?"

I hesitated, but sighed. "Okay, what do you want to know?"

I thought he'd ask me questions about my life or past, but instead he asked me random ones. What was my favorite color? What was my favorite food? Favorite movie. Favorite thing to do on a free evening. I answered the questions and he'd tell me his answer in return and before I knew it we were talking like friends. I steered clear of my past, keeping our talk to interest and hobbies. My guard which had been up and in place since The Snap had somehow slipped away in that moment, with no warning and without my permission.

And with that loss of my guard came an overwhelming feeling of guilt from how much I found myself enjoying the Captains company and how easily I opened up to him. I should not have been enjoying another mans company when I have a fiance. I realized bitterly that the correct term would be had, I had a fiancé. It was those feelings of guilt that had me sliding off the roofs ledge in the middle of a conversation, surprising Steve who looked at me confused.

"I… I should go," I slid off the ledge. I glanced down at my watch to see we had been talking for well over an hour. Shit.

Steve frowned, but said nothing as he watched me pull my coat on.

"I am working on Tony's speech and he needs it by tomorrow so..." I offered an explanation he didn't ask for. Feeling silly again I turned to go with a short wave. "It was nice talking with you, Captain."

"Andrea."

I stopped at the sound of his voice. He had used my name for the first time, something I wasn't accustomed to. I guess we were past Ms. Dawson now? I looked over my shoulder at him, finding him watching me.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Would you let me bring you lunch?" He asked sliding off the ledge and stepping toward me. "To make up for the sandwich?"

Oh. I opened my mouth but my words faltered. I closed my mouth and tried again. "It's fine. It was just a sandwich-."

"I insist," he cut in. "Please."

I got the distinct impression he wasn't going to take no for an answer. And I was surprised to find a part of me didn't want to say no. But there was still that guilt that hung over me like a dark cloud. Wasn't it too soon for this?

"Just meet me here tomorrow same time okay?" He continued at my worried silence.

It felt like an order.

"Okay, Captain."

He was already waiting for me when I went to the roof the next night, needing to give myself a pep talk to go. I had to tell myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong. That Steve was just being friendly and replacing the food that he had made me lose, that it didn't mean anything and was perfectly innocent. It was probably silly to feel guilty for speak to a man, especially when my fiancé was dead, and had been for more than two years, but I couldn't shake the feelings of guilt.

Still I found myself on the roof, just as he had asked, trying to ignore my racing heart. He was sitting with his back to me, right on the ledge like the night before, prompting me to clear my throat so that I didn't startle him. He turned at the sound, a small smile on his face.

"Andrea, hi," he said beckoning me over with a wave of his hand.

"I didn't want to startle you. Can't have Captain America falling to his death because of Tony's assistant," I said, joining him on the ledge noticing the paper bag sitting at his side.

He chuckled, deep and low. "Believe it or not I've jumped from higher and survived."

"Of course you have," I said shaking my head feeling embarrassed. He's a super soldier of course he could survive a fall from this high.

"Hungry?" He asked changing the subject. He picked up the paper bag at his side and offered it to me. "I hope you like it."

"Starved actually," I answered opening the bag and pulling out its contents. It was a turkey sub sandwich with all the fixings, a bag of chips, and a glass bottle of coke. I smiled at him holding up the coke. "Old school huh?"

"It tastes better out of the glass," he shrugged.

I took a bite of the sandwich, unable to stop the groan that escaped my mouth at its deliciousness. I hadn't eaten since breakfast having to run errands instead of eat my lunch. And it really was a good sandwich.

"Good?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"So good," I took another bite and chewed and swallowed. "Where on earth did you get this?"

Steve chuckled again. "I made it."

I almost choked on the bite I was currently chewing looking at Steve in surprise. "You made this?"

He nodded. "Yeah with my own hands," he held them up. I mentally noted how large they were.

I looked down at the sandwich. "Wow I could probably get a lot of money for this on EBay."

Steve blinked and laughed in confusion. I couldn't stop the smile that came across my face to hear his full laugh. "Really?" He asked when he recovered.

"Yes, people go nuts for Captain America stuff. If you sign it I could get more."

"A signed sandwich is worth money?" He asked in disbelief.

I nodded, taking another bite.

He was laughing again and I was laughing with him. "I need to start selling my stuff," he said once the laughter died down. "It never occured to me to cash in on my fame like that."

"Sell your underwear to the ladies. Then you'd really rake in the big bucks," I took another bite and watched as Steve's face fell, his cheeks turning red. I laughed as I chewed.

"My underwear?"

I nodded.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

His eyebrows rose and he took a deep breath before he was laughing again. "I'll consider it."

"Well if you start I expect a cut. I'm thinking 40%."

Steve huffed. "It's my underwear."

"Yeah and it was my idea."

"I'm thinking 10%."

The negotiations for my cut continued and evolved into a whole other conversation about price differences during his time and our current time. And again soon we were talking like old friends, sitting side by side on the ledge, my sandwich and bottle of coke finished and the sun already set. It was too easy to lose track of time talking to him and after a glance down at my watch, seeing two hours had passed, I excused myself. Feeling guilty and ashamed once again for how much I enjoyed myself.

Steve looked disappointed when I announced my departure, climbing off the ledge. "Same time tomorrow?" He called as I walked off, making me stop and turn to look at him. The amount of hope in his eyes surprised me.

I thought about refusing, or making some excuse of why I couldn't, but I found myself smiling and nodding.

And so it became a routine, meeting him on the roof near the end of the day before I went home, spending two to three hours talking and chatting with him over my lunch that I always waited to eat till I got to the roof. We managed to avoid talk of my past each time, me usually letting Steve steer the conversation and do the talking. I began to feel an urgency when it neared the time that he and I would meet, an anxiousness starting in my stomach and rising to my chest. It was something to look forward too. And I really looked forward to it.

I was surprised when Steve came to my desk in the middle of the afternoon, three weeks after we had started our little ritual, dressed in his full Captain America gear.

"Steve, hi," I breathed in surprise. "Tony isn't here, but I can call him-."

"No it's fine. I'm here for you actually," he replied.

"Oh. Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. They're sending me out on a mission, so I'll miss our…" he hesitated. What was it that we were doing? 'Hanging out'? "I won't make it to the roof tonight," he finished.

I was surprised at the amount of disappointment that I felt. I tried to hide it from my face and fixed a smile instead. "Oh. Well thanks for letting me know."

He nodded. "It's no problem I just didn't want you to expect me and I not be there."

I organized some papers on my desk nervously, nodding. "I appreciate that… I hope you have a safe mission."

"Thank you…listen Andrea," he started coming around the desk and sitting on the corner. I tensed in my chair. "I was thinking that maybe we could… spend time together… somewhere else besides the rooftop when I get back."

Oh. Oh. Was that appropriate? Our rooftop hangouts were innocent for now, but what would happen if we moved them elsewhere? Did he mean like a date?

He looked at me with an arched eyebrow, his face falling when I was silent too long. "If you don't want too-."

"No," I blurted. "I do. I mean… I think so…"

His brows knit and he nodded once. "I'll be back tomorrow. How about you think it over and just let me know then okay?"

"Okay, Captain," I said with a nod feeling slightly relieved. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded, rising from the edge of my desk and standing over me. He didn't move, watching me with those sapphire eyes for what felt like an impossibly long time. It felt like there was something else he wanted to say or do, but was apprehensive. And it was making me nervous.

"W-Was there something else Captain?" I said hoping to break the tense silence.

He blinked, shaking his head once. "Uh no, no, sorry. I'll see you tomorrow. Think about it. Okay?"

I nodded and watched him walk off. Captain America had just asked me on a date.