New York, 1926

You stepped out on stage in your red dress that went down to your ankles. It had a slit in it that went up to your upper thigh, was sleeveless, and came up, wrapping around your neck (very '30's style). Along with it, you had long black gloves and black heels.
Yes, you were a singer at a (1)speakeasy. You sang every Saturday night for a bunch of drunken men who tried to hit on you- and it wasn't like the men were even attractive! And it didn't help that your boss made you sing slow jazz songs, go off the stage and into the audience, and 'entertain' the drunken bastards.
None of the men that ever came or went were attractive...EVER.
The song started up, and you started singing. Immediately, you heard cat calls, whistles, and other noise from the drunken men. You stepped out into the audience after a few measures of the song, and most fell over in the chair, due to the fact that they were so high they passed out. As usual, none of the men caught your attention...until you saw a new face-and he wasn't drunk or even high; he wasn't even completely intrigued by you either. This is what drew you towards him. You walked over to him, and used your delicate index finger to tilt his chin up. You stared at his deep blue orbs that sat behind square framed glasses. To top it all off, he had thick blonde hair that shaped his face perfectly, and on top, was a dark brown fedora. Of all the years of being in this business, never before had you seen a man more handsome. However, being a professional, you knew you couldn't 'entertain' any one man for too long, so you moved on, but he was still on your mind.
When your song ended, you took one last look at the audience and waved, glancing at the man again, before exiting the stage.
You were in your dressing room, about to get dressed in some regular clothes. Right as you were going to unzip the dress, there was a knock at the door. You opened the door, and there was the man from earlier that you had found so admirable.
"Hello Miss (Name) (L/N). My name is Detective Alfred Jones from the New York Police Dept. I have a few questions to ask you" he said.
A detective? That was the last thing you could have guessed, seeing as you worked at a speakeasy.
"U-uh sure. Come in and have a seat" you said with smile.
"Thank you ma'am" he said lifting his fedora.
"No problem."
After he had taken a seat, he began to talk and question.
"So I'm sure you have heard about the murder of Mr. Williams, correct?"
Yes, indeed you had heard of the murder- it was all the other singers could talk about. Apparently he was a Canadian ice skater that had moved to New York in hopes on finding a job.
"Yes sir I have."
"Well, you may not know this, but he was my half-brother and-"
"Oh I'm so sorry to hear that are you alright?" you asked.
"Yes ma'am I fine thank you. Anyways, I was wondering if you had heard anything about it. A man by the name of Mr. Henry Lance told me that you had information." Your boss? Henry Lance was your boss.
"In fact miss, he told me that he thought that you are the one responsible for the crime" Detective Jones added. Your boss framed you?! WTF!
"No sir I had nothing to do with it I promise!"
"Well if you're sure then, that will be all. Thank you for your time Miss (L/N)" he said standing up and exiting the room.

-Time Skip-

A few weeks had passed since the incident with Detective Alfred Jones. You really hadn't thought too much about it after he had talked to you, and it was until your boss, Mr. Lance, said he wanted to talk to you privately that you really gave it any more thought.
He pulled you outside into a dark, wet ally one Saturday night to 'talk' to you. You thought this was a little suspicious, so were cautious of his actions. As soon as he closed the door behind you, he reached a hand around your mouth and pressed a knife against your neck.
"Now- we're going to do this the easy way, or the hard way- your call" he said. You were too scared to fight, so you just whispered out a barely audible "easy way."
"Good. Now. I suppose you now know that I was the one that killed Matthew Williams, and I want you to keep your mouth shut about it- otherwise, you're as dead as that wimpy Canadian- GOT IT?!" he asked. You nodded your head.
"Good. Now get back to work."
You knew you had to tell Detective Jones, but if you did, you'd die. You decided to sleep on it (literately) and decide what you should do.
You pulled the cool, cotton covers over your tired form and closed your eyes. You eventually fell off to dream land.
~ A man with blonde hair that fell just below his face with one gravity-defying curl walked up to you. You had seen him before, you just couldn't put your finger on who it was. When he was face to face with you he said, "hello (Name). I'm Matthew. I'm visiting you in your dreams." You wrapped your arms around his torso and leaned your head into his shoulder.
"Oh Matthew. What should I do?!" you asked, a few tears trickling down your cheeks.
"Tell him- he'll protect you. Ever since he met you, he's fallen head over heals in love with you" he said lifting your chin up. "He's always wanted to be a hero, let him have that chance."
"Is that you saying that, or is that just my conscience telling me what I want to hear?" you asked longing for the obvious.
"No, I'm really Matthew, and he really does love you" he said and smiled. And don't worry- I'll guide you from harm's way too!" he said leaning his forehead against yours.
"O-okay" you said closing your eyes.~
When you opened you eyes, you found yourself in bed with the sun shining through the window next to you.
"Good morning me" you said. You suddenly felt very lonely there without Matthew's presence.
You got up, got dressed, brushed your teeth and hair, and headed to the police station. You were almost there, you could see it up the block. However, you then felt a pair of arms surround you.
"There you are (Name) I thought I lost you" your boss, Henry asked, trying to sound casual. You screamed a short scream, but it wasn't long enough to be heard before Henry put his hand over your mouth. By then, he had your tied up, and you were completely helpless. You tried to shout, but it was no use- it was the end of you. You then realized that kicking around might help gain some attention. You kicked and flailed your legs around, and people started to stare.
"Oh she's aright. She's a bit unstable in the mind" he said calmly.
You violently shook your head. Someone in the 'audience' had run to the police station to inform them of the situation. Right as Henry had you in his black car, Detective Jones came out of the building along with some other soldiers.
"Hands up Lance" he said.
"WHAT you think I'M THE KILLER!?" Henry questioned.
"Yes. Yes I do."
"Well, nothing can stop me. Matthew threatened my business. He said he was going to tell the police of my speakeasy...Ooops" he said.
"Mr. Lance, you told me your business was a dinner theatre (yes, such things existed back then)!"
"It is! I mean no! I mean!" he tried to argue.
"Mr. Henry Lance, you're under arrest!" Alfred said taking out his handcuffs and arresting your boss.
After the commotion had died down and your boss was locked away, Detective Alfred Jones came up to you.
"Thank you for saving me sir."
"That's my job ma'am. And you're welcome" he said lifting his fedora (it's his thing okay?!).
"You may call me crazy, but last night Matthew visited me in my dreams. He said you always wanted to be a hero" you said looking at the ground.
"I don't think you're crazy, he's visited me too! And yeah, call ME crazy, but ever since I was little I wanted to be a hero."
"Well, now you're my hero!" you said looking up and meeting his bright blue eyes.
"R-really!?" he asked. "But I'm not a super hero or anything! I can't lift an insane amount of weight or fly or anything!"
"You know Alfred, you don't have to have super-human powers to be a hero" you said, a blush spreading across your face.
"You...you don't?" he asked. You pecked his cheeks.
"No. You don't" you said, your blush getting even darker.
"Well then, can I continue to be your hero then?" asked Alfred.
"I would love that" you said taking his hand and walking off down the road and into the distance (like in the movies) as the 'The End' appears on the screen.

~The End~

(1) Speakeasy- a 'secret' club in the 1920-30's where people would gather and bring alcohol, drugs, etc., because during the Great Wars alcohol was not sold in stores due to the fact that it was being shipped to soldiers who had been wounded. Would usually consist of dancing, drinking, etc.

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Okay, so first AmericaXReader...I think... anyways, if it is, WHAT D'YA THINK! Kinda cheesy I know but...COMMENT SIL' VOUS PLAIT (Please) !