A/N: So, a Cap/OC story. It's a fairly short piece, and three quarters fluff. I wrote this awhile ago and forgot about it. So here it is :)

It was when Steve came in with a new haircut that they first realized something was different. He had a tendency to wander out by himself in New York, usually trying to get up to speed on things, sample new cuisine, tour a museum. But today, apparently, he'd gotten a new haircut. It wasn't quite as 40's as before, but it wasn't totally modern either.

"Hey Capsicle, looking good," Tony said, giving him a thumbs-up.

The good captain gave him a small smile and continued in his search for breakfast.

"Where'd you get your haircut?" Pepper asked.

"A neighbor did it," Steve said.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "We're in Stark Tower, we don't have neighbors."

"Yeah we do. Those brownstones a few blocks down."

"But I thought only hermits and snooty old people live there." Tony looked at Pepper for confirmation, and she nodded.

"She's a sculptor," Steve explained.

Tony and Pepper's eyes widened. "Oh, she's a she," Tony said eagerly. "And? Her name? Is she pretty?"

Steve blushed under the onslaught of questions and said, "It's none of your business."

"Yes, it is," Tony said. "If she's going to be cutting your hair it's definitely my business."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Her name is Amanda Hale, she's a sculptor, and yes." His eyes went unfocused. "She's very pretty," he added.

"Ooh, someone's gotta crush," Pepper said, smiling at him. "And? How did you meet?"

"I was at the Met," Steve said. "I ran into her."

-A-a-A-

He'd been looking at art from the seventies, and he was, frankly, disturbed. He'd been staring at a painting and turned to leave when he crashed into a young woman going by, and they fell to the floor.

"Oh my goodness I'm so sorry," the woman said, scrambling up and trying to grab all of her things and help him up at the same time. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"No it's my fault, ma'am," he said, helping her pick up her things. "I'm sorry."

She smiled at him briefly. "I'm always running into people. You're the first person to take the blame for yourself. Congratulations. You've joined the Decent Human Club."

He looked at the papers he handed back to her, noticed the detailed sketches of several sculptures, and decided to reply. "Do I get a membership prize?" he asked, smiling at her.

She shuffled her papers around. "A coffee at the cafeteria?"

Steve grimaced. He'd tasted it before. It was worse than SHIELD coffee. "How about the cafe down the block?" he asked, not quite believing his own boldness.

She grinned. "You're also an intelligent human being," she said. "I'm impressed." She held out a hand. "I'm Amanda, by the way. Amanda Hale."

"Steve," he said, shaking her hand, surprised by her firm grip. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She looked at her watch. "Wanna make it lunch, since it's past noon?"

"Sure."

"Great." She shoved all her papers in a backpack and they headed for the exit. "So," she said, as they walked down the street, "what brings you to a museum on a nice day like this?"

"History project," he said briefly. So far she hadn't recognized him, and he hoped to keep it that way.

"Nice."

"And you, ma'am?" he asked politely.

She blushed. "Please, call me Amanda. I'm not near enough lady-like to be called ma'am."

He eyed her straight posture and her easy confidence and thought otherwise, but agreed. "And you, Amanda?" he asked.

"I was sketching the Egyptian pieces," she said. "I'm a sculptor, and I wanted some details for something Egyptian-influenced I'm working on."

"I'm sorry if I disturbed your work," he said, feeling bad.

"No, don't worry about it," she assured him, smiling. "I needed a break."

They got to the cafe, ordered lunch and coffee, and she asked, "So, what do you do for a living?"

"Guess," he said.

She eyed him appraisingly. "Male model."

He laughed, his cheeks turning a faint red. "No."

"Personal trainer?"

"Nope."

"Boxer?"

"No."

She frowned, her forehead crinkling delightfully. "Fireman?"

"Nope."

Her eyes cleared and she snapped her fingers. "Got it, got it. Soldier."

He nodded. "You got it."

She smiled, pleased. "I knew it."

"How'd you know?" he asked.

"Your posture."

Their food came and they dug in. They chatted throughout their meal, and Steve learned that she lived near Stark Tower, in the old brownstones, over an old couple that always played jazz music. "Not that I mind it," she added. "They're a darling old couple."

They finished their lunch, and Steve paid for lunch, over her objections.

"Well, I have to say your mother must have been a fantastic woman to raise you so well," Amanda said, smiling at him as they left the cafe.

Steve smiled wistfully. "She was."

"Good. Everyone deserves a good mom." Her eyes clouded briefly and she shook it away. "Anyways. Nice to meet you, Steve. I hope we run into each other again."

"Me too," he said, and before she could walk away he blurted, "Do you, I mean, can I have your phone number? Maybe we could meet up again?"

She gave him such a brilliant smile he felt like the sun itself had smiled at him. "Sure," she said. She scribbled her number on a piece of scrap paper and gave it to him. "See you around, soldier."

"See you around," he echoed, and watched her walk away. He grinned.

-A-a-A-

"And then?" Pepper asked eagerly, as soon as he'd finished telling them the story. "Did you call her? I mean of course you called her, but when? And what happened?"

"Two days later," Tony said, snapping his fingers. "Ha! That's why you wanted to try again with the cell phone. I knew something was up!"

Steve turned red. He'd gone to Tony two days later and begged for an indestructible, easy to use smartphone. "Yes, two days later," he admitted.

"And?"

"And she answered."

-A-a-A-

Steve was horribly nervous. He'd been staring at the phone for ten minutes now, trying to get up the nerve to press send. The Stark phone waited for him patiently. "This is ridiculous," he told himself, and pressed send.

She picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" she said.

"Hello," Steve said, his brain blanking.

"Steve?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Hi!" she said cheerfully.

"Hi," he said. "Um... I'm going on a sketching trip to the Botanical Gardens and I wanted to know if you wanted to come with me? I mean, if you're not busy."

"I'd love to," she replied. "When?"

"Uh, tomorrow, at 10?"

"Great. Where do you want to meet?"

"I can come pick you up," Steve offered. "Would that be all right?"

She grinned. "That'd be just fine. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

They hung up, and Steve flopped on the couch, sighing in relief. It was a date.

-A-a-A-

"Where did you get all these mad skills?" Tony asked, messing with his tablet.

Steve shrugged. "I don't know."

Tony put something up in the middle of the table. "Amanda Hale, 24."

"Tony!" Pepper and Steve scolded.

"What? It's her Facebook profile. She's 24, a Master's in Art, minor in World History, exhibitions in small galleries over the last 10 years, her dad was an ex-Navy SEAL, her mom died of cancer when she was 10, she's been working on some Egyptian pieces recently. No criminal record, no shady friends, not even a speeding ticket, not associated with anything remotely sinister or government related."

"Is this a mark?" Clint asked, as he and Natasha came in.

"NO!" the other three chorused.

"Okay, okay, calm down. Who is it?"

"Steve's girlfriend," Tony said.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Good job, Rogers."

"She's pretty," Bruce said, as he entered the room, still sleepy-eyed. "Who's that?"

"Steve's girlfriend," Tony, Pepper, Clint, and Natasha chorused.

"No touch," Tony added.

"When can we meet her, Cap?" Clint asked.

"How long have you been dating?" Natasha added. "Does she know who you are?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Tony said, "I still wanna hear about this first date."

Steve groaned. "Guysssss..."

"It's really none of our business," Bruce said mildly.

"Thank you," Steve said gratefully.

"Oh come on," Natasha said. "If you don't tell us now, I'm going to go see her."

"Natasha Romanoff I swear if you touch her-" Steve started solemnly.

"I was kidding," she said, holding up her hands peacefully. "Man, you really got it bad."

"So come on, spill," Clint said. "First date?"

Steve sighed. "I picked her up at 10."

-A-a-A-

He'd debated between taking his motorcycle and taking one of Tony's cars, but he didn't want to have to explain why he wanted to borrow a car, so he took his bike. He arrived on her doorstep promptly at 10, and she came out to meet him. "Good morning," she said cheerfully.

"Good morning," he said, smiling at her.

She was wearing a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater, her hair up in a ponytail, and she was carrying a messenger bag. She was possibly the most perfect picture of casual adventure that Steve had ever seen.

He realized he was staring and gestured to the door. "Shall we?"

She saw his bike and grinned. "Is this yours?"

"Yes."

"It's great."

"Thanks."

She got on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He started the bike and they were on their way. He tried to focus on driving and not on the warm weight on his back, or the warm arms wrapped around his waist.

The entire outing, Steve noticed about 3 flowers. The rest of the time he was looking at, and sketching, Amanda. She was just so entrancing, frowning in concentration as she sketched a rose bush whose flowers were dried and decaying.

"You've been staring at me for half an hour," she mentioned casually, and grinned when he blushed.

"Sorry," he said.

"No it's fine. I know I make weird faces when I work." She pulled a face at him and he laughed.

They spent a couple hours there, and then went to lunch at a pizza parlor. When he dropped her off, she gave him a quick hug. "Thanks for lunch," she said. "I really had a lot of fun today."

"Me too," he said. "I'm glad you came."

She smiled at him and asked, hesitatingly, "Are you free Saturday?"

"Um, yeah."

"Good, because, this guy gave me two tickets for Phantom of the Opera, and I, I know it's a bit much for a second date, but I really don't have anyone else to go with and I don't want to waste 'em-"

"I'd love to go," Steve said, saving her from rambling on.

She blushed but smiled. "Really?"

"Yes. I've always wanted to go see it."

"Great! The show starts at 7."

"I'll pick you up at 5 and we can do dinner before," Steve offered.

"That sounds like a plan," she said, smiling. "See you Saturday?"

"I look forward to it," he said, smiling back.

-A-a-A-

"Wait, that's Amanda?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah..."

"I gave her those tickets."

"What?" everyone chorused.

He nodded. "You know how people keep giving us stuff, and I saw this girl lugging a box of clay into a house, so I helped her up the stairs. She was nice, so I gave her the tickets. Not like I was going to use them."

"Aw," Pepper said, putting a hand over her heart, "you set up Steve's second date."

"So what happened?" Clint asked. "How was the show?"

"It was great." Steve smiled fondly.

-A-a-A-

He'd borrowed one of Tony's cars after JARVIS assured him that Mr. Stark didn't need to know.

-A-a-A-

"Hey!" Tony protested. "JARVIS, I always need to know!"

"Tony, be quiet."

-A-a-A-

When Amanda came out of her apartment, Steve's jaw dropped. She was wearing a light blue formal-length dress that hinted at curves but showed nothing but simple elegance, paired with heels. "You look amazing," Steve said honestly.

She blushed. "You don't look too bad yourself."

He tugged at his suit jacket. "Thanks." He offered her his arm, and escorted her downstairs.

"Nice car," she said.

He grinned. "I borrowed it from a friend."

She looked at the license plate. "You're friends with Tony Stark?"

"Sadly, yes."

She snickered.

They went to dinner at a nice restaurant and went to see Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. It was an incredible experience. They had great seats (thanks to Bruce), and Steve ended up watching Amanda's reactions to the play more than the musical itself, though he did appreciate it.

-A-a-A-

"When did she find out who you are?" Natasha asked.

Steve sighed. "She knew the whole time."

"And she didn't tell you?"

"She wanted me to tell her."

Natasha nodded. "Smart girl."

"She's not a girl."

"Smart woman," Natasha amended.

"Thank you."

"Never mind semantics, how did it happen?" Tony pressed.

"it was a week after the Phantom of the Opera," Steve said. "I was at her apartment. She was showing me the sculptures she was working on."

-A-a-A-

He'd been looking at her work in progress when he found a sketch of him, half in normal clothes and half in his Captain America suit. One half of the background was the Met and the other half was the city in ruins. His sketched expression was thoughtful, his pose weary on one side and determined on the other. It looked incredibly real, and Steve felt that it really portrayed him. The only question was: how did she know?

"Steve?" Amanda asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

He held out the sketchbook. "How did you know?" he asked quietly.

Her eyes widened, but they twinkled merrily. "Steve, I live five blocks away from Stark Tower. I saw you in action, I've seen you coming in and out of the Tower, jogging. I'd know you anywhere. Plus, the manners, the hairstyle, the lack of pop culture references."

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

She looked right into his eyes, blushing, but admitted, "Because I think Steve Rogers is more amazing than Captain America, and I figured someone ought to show you that." She looked down quickly. "I'm sorry for not telling you I knew. I just, I didn't want it to make a difference. I mean, Steve from Brooklyn with an artist? Sure. Why not? But Captain America and an obscure artist? That would never work."

"Why not?" he asked calmly, though inside he was panicking. Don't break up with me don't break up with me don't end this, pleasepleaseplease...

She bit her lip. "Because, I don't know. You're famous, and I'm a nobody, and-"

"And neither Steve Rogers nor Captain America care what anybody thinks," he interrupted. He tilted her head up to look at him, and frowned at the sight of tears. "Amanda, you're the first person in this entire century who hasn't treated me like anyone other than myself. You make me feel like I have a place here. For the first time since I woke up I want to be here. With you. And I won't let anyone take that, or you, away."

"Not even Captain America?" she asked, smiling tearfully.

"Especially not him." And he leaned down and sealed the promise with a kiss, cupping her face with his hands. He pulled away after a few heavenly seconds.

She blinked at him, her hands still threaded into his hair. "Okay," she said breathlessly.

He nodded, a bit breathless himself. "Okay."

Things were fine after that. She never brought up his superhero alter ego except to tease him or call him soldier, but now that she knew, he was able to talk to her about it, and with her help and her quiet support, he was slowly coming to terms with everything.

-A-a-A-

"So how long has this been going on?" Clint asked curiously.

"Three months," Steve replied.

"When can we meet her?" Natasha asked, starting to grin.

Steve's eyes widened. "No."

"How do we know she's not a psychopath?" Tony asked.

"She's not," Steve said.

"Then why shouldn't we meet her? Are you ashamed of her?"

"No!" Steve nearly shouted, and took a deep breath to calm down. "Fine. I'll ask her." His expression grew serious. "But if you mess this up for me..." he trailed off, his gaze threatening.

"We promise to be on our best behavior," Tony said, unexpectedly serious. "We just want you to be happy, Steve."

He nodded. "Thank you guys."

After breakfast he stopped by her house.

She opened the door and smiled. "Steve, come on in."

He noticed she was in pajamas and a sweatshirt, and blushed. "I can come back later..."

"No, this is a lazy day." She waved him into the kitchen. "What's up?"

"My friends want to meet you."

Her eyes widened. "When you say friends?"

"The rest of the Avengers." He watched her reaction closely.

"Why do they want to meet me?" she finally asked.

"They're curious. They also want to make sure you're not a psychopath, apparently."

She laughed. "Will I pass the test?" she asked teasingly.

He smiled at her and shrugged. "Just refrain from talking to yourself and I think you have a chance."

"So when are we doing this?" she asked.

"I don't know. When are you free? Can you come over for dinner one of these days?"

"You know me. I never have plans."

"Friday then?"

"Friday is fine." She frowned. "What do I wear?"

"Uh, casual?"

"Okay." She smiled. "Now that you're here, would you like to have a lazy day?"

"Doing what?"

"Absolutely nothing."

He smiled. "Sounds great."

They had brunch, consisting of waffles and omelets, watched a movie, ate popcorn, went for a walk, had ice cream, went up to the roof and watched clouds, ate mac and cheese for dinner, and cleaned up to the sounds of Wheel of Fortune.

"I think this was the best day of my life," Steve said honestly, as he dried the dishes.

"Really?" Amanda asked, surprised. "We didn't do anything. I thought you'd be bored out of your mind by now."

"I think that's why I liked it," he said. "No responsibilities, no lives hanging in the balance. Just you and me." He leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek.

She blushed. "Well, any day you want to be lazy, you know where to find me."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He returned to the Tower and as soon as he entered everyone chorused, "Well?"

"Friday night, dinner," he said.

"Nice. How does pizza sound?"