"Captain America saved my life" an entire country watched as a young waitress from Brooklyn tearfully gave her first hand experience. Her name was Beth Marks, 27.

Three weeks after the day I gave that interview, things had practically returned to normal. It was late May, the heat in the city had turned the streets rank and the air thick with smog. Not to mention the street the diner was on was still pretty torn to pieces. The diner had cleaned up pretty quick, though. A couple of days of boarding up and sweeping, and it was good as new. Business was unusually slow, a lot of the streets and buildings were completely closed off, so many of our regulars hadn't bothered.

I slowly rearranged the salt and pepper shakers on the bar, daydreaming. A few patrons sat around the diner, and a few more outside. A pair of what sounded like German tourists snapped pictures of one of the boards in the window. They'd been visiting a lot lately, superhero fans from around the world, to see the place where it had all happened.

Well, they should have been here when it had happened; they wouldn't be too enthusiastic about it then.

Cars exploding and people screaming, running around in chaos. The sky ripped open and just like in all those dumb movies, aliens flew down from space, having it out on the innocent human population. I genuinely thought I was going to die that day, and that is not a feeling I would wish on anyone. Then out of the sky came The Avengers, with their high-tech alien blasters and big angry green monster and a couple scary looking acrobats. They crashed and flew around and kicked some ass all together which was pretty revolutionary. So far we'd only known Iron Man, and who knew ole Stark would descend from his lit up tower and help the little people out?

But low and behold some secret agency had been keeping all these superheroes secreted away and they came and saved the day, and everyone in America cheered. I'm one of them. They saved my life.

But if there is one thing that I don't like, its tourists who take pictures of destruction and then don't eat their smiley face pancakes.

The bell tinkled and I spun around, a bright smile instantly plastered to my face.

"Hi, what can I getcha?" I asked, reaching for the pot of coffee. Sure enough, the man who has walked in, very tall and donned in a leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses, said:

"A cup of coffee would be great, ma'am." He said with a sigh. Ma'am, eh? You don't hear that around New York much these days. I reached for one of the speckled mugs and poured it full, then set down the mug and a small pitcher of cream in front of him.

"Lemme know if I can get you anything else."

I turned around to refill some of the ketchup bottles. "Say," the man said suddenly. "You look familiar, have I seen you somewhere recently?"

I spun around, furrowing my brow. It didn't sound like an attempt at a pickup line, it sounded genuine, which is what got me.

"Um, I was on the news a few weeks ago. I got interviewed, but I think that's the only place anyone really knows me from."

The man nodded, smiling. He was pretty handsome. Very blonde, though, with bright blue eyes and broad shoulders. He looked oddly familiar himself.

"That's where I saw you, I remember now." He cracked a smile. Yes. Very handsome. "What was it like here, then?"

I sighed, not unpleasantly.

"It was...it was terrifying. But hey, I got out alive, thanks to 6 superheroes."

He grinned, taking a gulp of his coffee. "Just like the movies." he said.

"Are you from around here?" I asked. I picked up some glasses and wiped them down as I talked, so my hands would be occupied.

"From Brooklyn, originally."

"No kidding, me too! Where did you go to high school?"

He looked perplexed, then his eyebrows shot up. "Out of state boarding school."

"Ah." I looked down at the glass, scrubbing out a smudge.

"Listen, Beth." the man said. "You seem like a nice...girl," he struggled for the words. I bit my lip, containing a smile. Someone as good looking as him certainly has experience with women, right? And he was flirting with me? It had to be some sort of elaborate trick. He took a deep breath, and looked up at me through his lashes.

"When was the last time somebody took you to an expensive dinner?"