(Author's Note: Well, here we are at the start of it all! I kinda suck at intros so let's just get the ball rolling!)

"Harris, Robert," the doctor called up another name, another young man volunteering to save his country from a raging war overseas. Another name, another, and another, each walking up to get evaluated. 1943, every able-bodied man was called to action. Hiding behind a newspaper was someone who didn't fit any description of able-bodied… Or a man.

"Lot of our guys getting killed out there," a guy next to her said, reading a newspaper. "Kinda makes you not want to go in, huh?"

"Nope," the person beside him said, hiding behind their newspaper.

"Rogers, Stevie," she perked up at the sound of her name. She flipped the newspaper she had been reading down, and got to her feet. Standing at a frail 5'0", she was quite possibly the least eligible human being to enlist in the army. Despite the obvious problem of being a woman, she had more health problems than someone on their deathbed.

The doctor looked down and already grabbed the stamp to let her know that she wasn't going to cut it. She looked up at him and he stopped, taking a deep breath. Stevie figured he was just humoring her.

"Stevie Rogers," he looked at her chart, raising an eyebrow. "What'd your father die of?"

"Mustard gas," Stevie reported. "In the 107th Infantry, I was kinda hopin' that I could be-."

"And your mother? Sarah?" Stevie took a deep breath.

"She was a nurse in a TB ward, sir," she said. "She caught it, and… Couldn't shake it." Her death was still fresh in her mind, it hadn't happened too long ago. She saw the doctor reach again for the stamp.

"Sorry," he said. "You're not eligible, kid."

"Sir, please-," Stevie began to argue.

"First off, women can't enlist to begin with." the man said. "And, even if you were a guy, you'd be out on your asthma alone, not to mention all of your other ailments. Do yourself a favor and go home, Rogers."

"Just gimme a chance," Stevie pleaded.

"I am," the doctor said, stamping her form. "I'm saving your life." He shoved the paper at her and called up the next guy in line. She clutched her form and stormed out, already making a plan to go to another recruitment station later that week.

Stevie would often go to the movies alone. She only really had one friend, James Barnes, Bucky, as she liked to call him. He was always off, a pretty gal on each arm. He was a ladies' man, but, he had always been there for her, like a guardian angel, as Stevie's mother would call him. It didn't really matter to Stevie whether or not Buck had a girlfriend or not, she was just happy to have her friend.

She paid for her ticket and walked in, grabbing a seat not too far from the screen. She had pretty bad eyesight for the most part, but she liked watching cartoons; for her they were a bit easier to see than actual, real actors.

If asked, she probably couldn't tell you what cartoon she was going to see that day. It was probably something that Disney was pumping out to show off to everyone. But, what Stevie really wanted to see, to motivate her to try to enlist again, were the war support commercials. Men and women shown doing everything they could to serve their country. The gals were all working in factories while the men went off to fight for their lives. Kids, even, doing their part by gardening or collecting scrap metal. Stevie wanted to fight, though. It was odd, but there was something in her drawing her to the center of action, to be a hero.

"Play the cartoons already!" some loudmouth called from in front of Stevie. Women whose husbands or brothers were out fighting turned their teary eyes towards the guy. "Who cares? Let's just get on with it!"

Stevie leaned towards him. "Hey, you wanna shut up?" she snapped quietly. "Show some respect, those people are doing their part out there." The guy turned around standing up to a full height of, well, taller than Stevie that was for sure.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" he said. Stevie got to her feet. The guy rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you wanna fight me. You're just a dame, you couldn't fight a breeze."

"Let's find out then," Stevie argued.

The first punch had caught her off guard. Usually when she challenged guys like this to fist fights, they went easy on her. It drove her mad the way they wouldn't fight her on equal grounds. Though, while this particular jerk was not at all pleasant, she at least had to give him credit for actually treating her as an equal.

She spun to the ground from the impact. She scrambled to her feet, holding her fists up to block another jab, which was quickly followed by one she couldn't dodge. This one sent her crashing into the garbage cans that sat against the alley wall. She groaned in pain, but got right back up. On her way back to her feet, she grabbed a lid from one of the now dented cans, holding it up as a shield. The guy grabbed it, tossing both it and her back to the ground.

"You just don't give up, do ya?" the guy asked, looking at her as she struggled to her feet. Stevie spit to the side, grimacing slightly at the small trace of red mixed in with saliva.

"I can do this all day," she said breathlessly, starting to sway a bit. The guy aimed a right hook and was about to let it fly when someone grabbed him by the hook of his elbow, yanking him back.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" the voice behind the grab said. "And find someone who isn't a gal, ya hear?" He shoved the guy out of the alley, giving him a good kick in the rear for good measure. Stevie wiped her lip and chin of blood, peering up through one good and one swollen eye at her apparent rescuer.

"Bucky," she said, getting fully to her feet after staggering.

"You know," he said. "Sometimes I think you like getting hit, Stevie." he frowned as he looked her up and down.

"I had him on the ropes," she assured, brushing herself off before Bucky came towards her to brush what she missed.

"Come on, let's go get you cleaned up, kid." he said. He noticed something that had fallen out of her pocket. He picked it up, seeing the rejection of enlistment. "Where were ya from this time? Paramus? Jersey, really, Stevie?" he shook his head. "You know it's illegal to lie on the enlistment forms, right?" Stevie looked at him and saw that he was in uniform, fully ready to…

"You got in?" Stevie asked. Bucky chuckled.

"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes," he said. "Member of the one-oh-seventh. Shipping out to England first thing tomorrow morning." Stevie sighed in a huff.

"I should be going," she said.

"You know you can't," Bucky said. "No offense, sweet cheeks, but you ain't exactly army material. Not to mention the whole 'being a girl' thing kinda makes it tough for anyone to let you join up."

"I don't care," Stevie almost stamped her foot in frustration. "Buck, I want to do this. I know I can…!" Bucky chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sure you can, doll," he said. "But, let's get you cleaned up for now. I've got a surprise for you, but you kinda shouldn't show up lookin' a mess."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I'll tell ya on the way." he said.

The two of them climbed the rickety stairs to Stevie's small apartment. She lived alone and hardly ever had company besides some girls she sang with. Then again, they usually offered their places as practice areas. Stevie rarely cleaned the place either, which was yet another reason to not like to bring people 'round.

She pat her pockets, letting out a small sigh with a quiet, "Come on," as she dug through her pockets. Bucky smiled as he watched her. He always found her forgetful nature charming. He let her search around a few more minutes before he walked over to a brick off to the side, revealing her spare key. He bent over and picked it up.

"You always seem to forget about this, doll," he said with a grin, handing it to her. She bit her bloodied lip and took it.

"Thanks," she said softly, unlocking her door. Inside, the blinds were closed, letting almost no light in from outside. Papers were strewn across the floor, forms from four separate recruitment offices, all saying that she was denied enlistment. There were newspapers from months ago, crumpled or folded around the floor and the table. Stevie rubbed the back of her neck.

"Sorry about the mess," she muttered, scooping up some of the papers. Bucky picked up some others, looking over her other failed attempts at joining the army.

"You seriously tried to pass off someone from Ohio?" Bucky asked her, holding up one of the forms with a sly smirk. Stevie blushed.

"I thought maybe coming from outta state would help my chances." she said. "Stupid idea, they didn't even talk with me, just stamped it and sent me out." she sighed as she placed the organized papers on her table.

"You're lucky you haven't been arrested yet, Rogers," Bucky said.

"According to the recruitment officers, I'm lucky they haven't accepted me," she said grumpily, heading to her small kitchen. She grabbed some ice and wrapped it in a towel, pressing it against her cheek. Bucky grinned and shook his head.

"Kid, you just don't know when to run off from a fight," he said. He walked to her bathroom where she kept a first aid kit. They'd known each other since they were in grade school, and he'd helped her on more than one occasion with after-fight scrapes and bruises, not to mention her asthma attacks and other problems she had. He was convinced he could be a medic with all the practice he'd had with Stevie.

He walked over, opening the box, getting some alcohol on a small rag. "This'll sting." he warned. She nodded and took the towel of ice off of her face, revealing a decent sized cut. Bucky gently applied some pressure onto the gash. Stevie winced, clutching the ice bag to stifle a whimper.

"Sorry, kid," he said, cleaning the wound. He looked at her face, seeing the swelling around her eye. "You know you're gonna get another shiner, right?"

"It's not a big deal," Stevie grumbled. "Ain't the first, probably won't be the last." Bucky sighed, shaking his head as he wadded up the rag, putting a bit more alcohol on it, tending to another cut.

"It is a big deal to me, Stevie," he said. "You may be one of the smartest gals this side of Brooklyn, but you make some of the dumbest decisions. What were ya thinkin', going up against a guy like that? He's practically twice your size."

"He was being disrespectful," Stevie argued.

"So what?" Bucky sighed, getting out some gauze for her cuts. "You need to sometimes just let things go, doll. You don't always have to be the hero, you know."

"I know that, Buck," she said, taking a deep breath. "I just-."

"Yeah, I know, kid, you don't like bullies," Bucky finished. "Look, let's just, forget about today, and have a good night. I'm shippin' off tomorrow morning, after all. I wanna make my last night in town special."

"You takin' one of your gals with you?" Stevie asked, looking at him as he stood. He smirked and held out a hand towards her.

"We're headed to the future, Stevie," he said. "And I wanna go with my best gal."

(Author's Note: And that's chapter one, folks! I really hope you all enjoyed it. I certainly liked writing it. Please lemme know what you think, both of the story so far and of Stevie, we're both pretty curious to know what you all think of her! Cheers, can't wait to write the next chapter!)