Author's Note:

This is a collection of fluffy one-shots taking place chronologically between Flying High, Falling Hard and A Little Kindness. As a forewarning, the sixth and final one-shot will contain Bucky/Steve/OC.

Becca couldn't have been more relieved to see the finish line. She put on an extra burst of speed, surpassing three of the other runners – which was fairly satisfying even if she was technically still at the back of the pack – and crossing the white line that had been sprayed across the path in Brooklyn Bridge Park. Victory. She jogged over to the side and stopped, panting. Who said you needed to be skinny to run? Or jog? Okay, mostly she had been doing a slow trot, but she had been pacing herself. She lifted one leg, balancing against a bench to stretch.

When the New York branch of Narcotics Anonymous had gotten together for its meeting about the bi-annual fundraising People Like Me marathon, Becca had been asked to help with the advertising side. She used to like jogging before the accident. Malena, her sponsor, had reminded her that exercising was a helpful aid to recovery. With Steve's assistance, Becca thought she'd be able to raise a good amount of money. So she signed up as well, and joined a group that was training together. It had been fun and she'd liked having a goal to work towards.

Of course, at the moment she'd like to crumple to the ground and never move again. Bad idea. She was supposed to stay on her feet for at least ten minutes. Shit. She'd forgotten about her watch.

Becca quickly stopped her watch and looked at the time. Holy. Shit. She had exceeded her goal by almost four minutes! She bounced once on her heels in excitement and nearly threw up. Okay, she could be excited later. Time to get some water or something to settle her stomach.

A tent had been set up with tables full of cups with all sorts of drinks and soup broths. Steve was helping hand them out, stepping aside occasionally for a quick picture and doing his best to ignore the paparazzi that the NYPD was keeping at bay. The second he saw her, he picked up two cups and a bag and came over. He pressed both cups into her hands, one water, the other red Gatorade.

"Remember, drink it slowly," Steve reminded her, not that Becca needed reminding. Although the clean-up crew was doing their best, there was still a lot of puke. Marathons could be exhilarating, but they also made your body do a lot of gross things.

Becca sipped the water first. Mmmm drinking felt great, although her stomach didn't seem so sure.

Steve took a blanket out of the bag and wrapped it around her shoulders to keep her body temperature from dropping too quickly. He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm proud of you."

Hearing that was as satisfying as finishing. Becca smiled. "Thanks. Oh, look!" She showed him her watch. "I did better than my goal."

"Well, then we'll have to celebrate."

"By lying on the couch, watching movies, and not moving for a week? Or ever again?"

"Whatever you want," Steve chuckled.

"Good answer."

"Although we might get hungry if we never move again."

Becca pointed out, "That's what delivery is for." She was going to eat so much crap food in the next few days. Pizza, Chinese take-out, the surprisingly delicious Indian around the corner from Steve's apartment, and at least two ice cream shakes from Black Ice. And then she would probably explode, but she would die happy.

"And how are they going to get into the apartment?" Steve asked.

"Hmm. That is a pickle." Becca changed up water for the Gatorade while she pondered. "Got it. You can train a bald eagle to pick up the food."

Steve gave her an amused look. "You're right. That's much more practical than getting up to answer the door."

"Isn't it though? And you could totally train it to follow you around so whenever you say something patriotic people will hear a bald eagle screech as it passes overhead with an American flag."

"In that case, guess I'm getting a bald eagle." Steve put on his 'pretend-to-think-hard' face. "I think I'll name him Washington Lincoln Roosevelt."

"Tch." Becca shook her head, but quickly stopped as the motion made her dizzy. Jeez, everything was making her feel sick. "Now you're just being tacky."

Steve set his hands on his hips. "Uh huh. So the line is…"

"Where I say it is, obviously. Ooo, how about the American flag in one claw and the other claw has a boom box playing 'America, Fuck Yeah?'" Becca was picturing him doing something super mundane like going into an all-American diner when all of a sudden – Eagle! Music! Explosions! – while he kept a straight face and didn't react. It was kind of ridiculously amazing.

However, Steve clearly didn't appreciate her vision. "And I'm being tacky?"

"Shush. I ran a marathon; I can say what I want."

"I think you do that anyways."

Becca elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "Rude."

"Sorry…" Steve took the empty water cup from her hand and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. "But you know I'm not wrong."

"Um, that's irrelevant." Becca considered giving him her Gatorade cup as well, since she wasn't too sure she could stomach the rest at the moment, but Steve had a thing about not finishing food and drink.

"Hey, I've got a patriotic duty to tell the truth. Otherwise it builds up inside me." Steve pressed a palm against his breast, wincing like he was in physical pain. "So much truth. I can barely contain it." He took her hand. "You've gotta help me."

"Shut up," Becca laughed, nearly snorting up Gatorade. That's it. Whatever. If Steve had a problem with tossing her partially full cup, he could finish it himself.

"Miss America."

"I do not have the energy for this."

Steve looped an arm around her waist. "Please." He was attempting the puppy dog look, but the grin negated it.

"Go. Away," Becca said, rolling her eyes and giving him a playful shove that, as usual, had all the effect of attempting to push over a building, except with the added benefit of reminding her that her arms also really hurt.

"It's too late," whispered Steve with what she assumed was meant to be horror.

"Oh my god."

"I think I'm –"

Becca kissed him.

He didn't know what it was, but whenever Becca began feigning annoyance – although it wasn't always entirely feigned – Steve felt like he had to keep going. He supposed the inevitable press of her lips in an effort to shut him up had something to do with it. The kiss only lasted a moment, as Steve wasn't too comfortable with kissing in public, but it was no less gratifying.

"I hate you," Becca murmured, but Steve knew what she was really saying.

"Drink the rest of your Gatorade," he instructed, pulling the blanket on her shoulders to cover more of her neck.

Becca wrinkled her nose and didn't lift the cup. "Have you seen anyone else?"

"Some of your friends came by the table after they finished, but everyone else, not since this morning."

Steve had been at the starting line with Becca's parents, Ally, and a couple of her other friends who had come to cheer her on. They had parted ways afterwards, scattering along the marathon route. He had seen Becca once, but then got caught up in helping carry runners who passed out and had eventually ended up handing out drinks. Wherever he was needed, he went, figuring Becca wouldn't mind as long as he met up with her at the finish line.

"Okay. I'll let them know I finished. You have my phone?" Becca held her hand out, and Steve retrieved her cell phone from the gym bag he'd brought. While texting, she added, "We should take a picture for your Twitter."

Getting a Twitter account had not been his idea. His press agent had suggested it, strongly. In fact, Devika had insisted, but said that she could have other people running the account for him. Steve hadn't liked the idea of other people putting up content in his name, so he'd agreed. He had to admit, Twitter had its uses, like spreading the word about this marathon, but he'd probably forget about it unless Becca reminded him or Devika e-mailed him. Last time he'd gone two weeks without making a tweet, she had sent an e-mail threatening to censor all of his "overly opinionated" and "controversial" tweets going forward. He had then tweeted the link to an article about abortion, to which she responded with a e-mail containing an irritated emoticon and the words "Who let you out of the freezer again? I need to send them my bar tab." He was surprised she'd stuck around this long.

Steve took out his phone and tried holding the camera at various angles. He wasn't very good with selfies. He never knew how much of his body to include or how much background. Becca usually ended up nudging his phone into place.

"There are a couple of guys who ran without shirts on," Becca noted. "So you could take your shirt off for the picture and it'd probably be fine."

"What?" Steve glanced at her, confused.

Becca grinned teasingly. "You know, as a thank you present to Cap's Commandos for raising all that money to sponsor my run."

It continued to puzzle Steve as to why his fans had come up with a name for themselves. He also wished they had picked something different. He knew his fans meant well, but every time he heard the name, he was reminded of the Howling Commandos, all of whom had passed on.

"I've got a better idea," Steve countered, and he pulled her in close.

"You're right. I'm just as good as you shirtless." Becca made a face as he adjusted his phone. "Although I am definitely not looking my best at the moment."

"You look fine."

"Wow, that's some high praise right there."

"Ready?"

"Hold on." Becca moved his arm so that his phone was slightly further away. "Okay, ready."

They both smiled, and Steve took the picture. He spent a minute debating over what to write. It was difficult when he knew the amount of writing was limited in tweets, especially when he wanted to say something about a certain issue in the news. The rest of the time, he plain didn't know what to put down.

Eventually he decided on, "Thanks for your donations to the People Like Me marathon. Narcotics Anonymous deserves the continued support for their great work."

"All set?" Becca asked when he tucked his phone back into his pocket. She was no longer holding her Gatorade cup. Steve hoped she'd finished the rest.

"Yeah."

"Awesome. I'm going to go for a cool down –" Becca's eyes went wide as something over his shoulder attracted her attention.

Steve clenched his fists instinctively and pivoted, coming face to face with… Tony Stark?

Stark held up his hands. "Easy, Spangles. I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend by beating your ass."

"Sorry." Steve lowered the fist he'd half raised. He didn't do well with people coming up behind him while he was distracted. "What are you doing here?"

Stark replied, "Made an investment. Wanted to see how she did."

Steve glanced to Becca, whose thoughtful frown smoothed into a look of shock. "You're my million dollar sponsor."

There had been a lot of sponsors who donated through the website Becca had set up. They rarely discussed who the funds came from. On occasion, Becca pointed out celebrities with delight and more than once he found her bleary-eyed, attempting to respond with thank-yous to everyone, at which point he would pull out his laptop to help.

The one exception who had garnered a lot of discussion was the anonymous donation of one million dollars. There weren't a whole lot of people with that kind of cash lying around, but they'd ruled out Stark for two reasons. One, his company had made a public donation. And two, he seemed like the type who always had to be in the spotlight. Becca's prevalent theory had been that the donor was a celebrity who didn't want to expose their once drug habit. He had thought that maybe the person wanted to keep the attention on Narcotics Anonymous. Not everyone had the need to be recognized for doing a good deed.

So Steve was surprised when Stark said, "Guilty."

"Wow… I didn't…" Becca blinked rapidly. She had a poor opinion of Stark, and Steve could see she hadn't expected such a gesture. She shook her head like she needed to wake up from a daze. "Thanks. That was super generous."

"It's not a big deal."

"It is actually. I'd, like, give you a hug or something but I'm all sweaty so –" Becca held out a hand, and when Stark took it, she clasped his hand in both of hers. "Thank you. The money will go such a long way in helping a lot of people who need the support. It means a lot to me. Really."

Steve got his second surprise when Stark looked unusually uncomfortable at the gratitude. "Sure. Yeah. Anytime." He quickly pulled his hand away.

"Oh!" Becca waved. "That's Megan and Lexi. I promised we'd do a cool down jog together." She nodded to Stark. "Thanks again." Tugging the blanket off her shoulders, she lifted onto her toes to press a kiss against Steve's cheek. "Keep an eye out for my parents, okay? My dad tends to wander. I'll be back soon."

"All right." Steve accepted the blanket and her cell phone, and watched Becca trot off to meet with two of her friends. They headed in the opposite direction from the encroaching reporters, whose cameras were trained in his direction as they frantically snapped picture after picture between the police.

"That was real generous of you," Steve reiterated. Stark could be abrasive, but there was a good man buried beneath all that ego.

"Like I said, not a big deal." Stark cleared this throat, his casual manner appearing slightly forced. "Addiction's a bitch. But Becca seems to be doing fine."

Steve's eyebrows rose. S.H.I.E.L.D. had done a thorough job of covering up Becca's addiction as far as he could tell. He'd had two conversations with Becca about whether to go public despite Fury's wishes, first after she had tried to turn herself in for possession of illegal medication, and again when she had told him about her plans to do this marathon. The first time, they had decided to let it go. Likely Becca would've been slapped with some community service and mandated treatment, both of which were covered by Narcotics Anonymous. The second time there had been more debate, but the decision was ultimately Becca's to make and she had decided not to say anything, mostly because she was afraid of getting him in trouble both with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the public. Also, she reminded him that the whole point of the organization was being anonymous. He respected her decision and kept his mouth shut.

However, Stark seemed certain, so Steve had to ask. "How'd you know?"

Stark shrugged. "Takes one to know one. Not that I was shooting up or popping pills or whatever it is she did. Well, there was this one time, or two. Anyway, I like having a good scotch myself, and eventually I had one too many and – Why am I telling you this? Doesn't matter. Bad things happened, and I worked through them. I'm not gonna whine about it."

Steve felt like he was seeing Stark in a new light. He hadn't known Stark had been a drunk. How could he? But Stark had overcome his addiction and seeing firsthand how much Becca had struggled, Steve had a lot of respect for that. And he didn't think that Stark would've looked for much help either.

"So how's it being a super not-so-secret agent?" Stark asked, and Steve allowed him to change the subject.

"Fine. How's… whatever you're doing?"

"Can't complain. Been working on my suits. I'm up to Mark-36. I had a little extra me time since I didn't have to do the interview for Sexiest Man Alive this year."

"Right," Steve mumbled, having had done that very interview a month back. He didn't think he deserved the title. When Devika had first contacted him with the news, he'd thought she was pulling his leg. It wasn't until he'd been a sitting in one of People's studios, getting interviewed while the cameramen set up for a photo shoot that he realized it truly wasn't a joke.

For weeks, Steve hadn't mentioned anything to Becca. Bringing it up would sound like bragging no matter how much he would try to laugh it off. By some miracle, he'd thought she had managed to miss the news, but was then confused when Ally congratulated him and Becca didn't bat an eye.

"You knew?" he'd asked after Ally had left them alone in the apartment she shared with Becca.

Becca had looked offended. "Duh. I haven't said anything because I knew you'd be all embarrassed about it. That's part of what makes you sexy. That you didn't let this take you on an ego trip." She had slid onto his lap, nuzzling against his neck. "But now that it's all out in the open, I think some congratulations are in order."

Steve had tried to come up with a flattering comment about her being the sexiest woman in his life, but Becca's tongue had been distracting. They'd spent the rest of the afternoon being very distracted.

His neck began to feel warm. These were not the kind of recollections Steve wanted to have in the middle of a busy event, especially not while talking to someone else.

Stark smiled like he knew what Steve was thinking about. "I hope you got something good out of it. She pull out something special? For you that must be, what, holding hands in public and a peek at a bare ankle?"

"Funny."

The reporters were closing in, shouting questions about the Avengers. Steve didn't really want to be trapped in the middle of them. He'd preferred to go back to handing out drinks and being useful while keeping an eye out for Becca's parents.

Fortunately, Stark offered, "You go get back to playing waiter. I'll take care of this."

"You sure?" Steve did appreciate that Stark took on the majority of the press having to do with the Avengers, but he would stay if needed.

"Yeah. I didn't see my face on any of the newspaper stands on the way here." Stark snorted like he couldn't believe his image wasn't splashed across the tabloids at all times. "So it's time to do some PR before everyone starts missing me."

"All right. Thanks." Steve left him to it and headed back towards the refreshment tents where he spotted Becca's parents, Molly appearing exasperated while Ben chatted amicably with the volunteers. Steve waved, and with obvious relief, Molly waved back.