A/N Hey! After a very long time, I finally got the inspiration to write something, and this something is a Beth/Steve story from the Avengers. The second one up, first being a fic called Sincerely, which I read. It's really good, you guys should check it out.

Anyway, this was inspired by a quote from a series called Once Upon A Time, Season 1 Episode 12, Skin Deep. You don't have to watch the episode to know what's going on, because it's just one line, really.

So just read on, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers.


"I've always wanted to be brave. So I figured, do the brave thing, and bravery would follow."
-Belle, Once Upon A Time 1x12


Beth dragged her feet up the steps to her apartment, her entire body weary and exhausted. She had spent the entire day helping clean up the town, wrecked from the Chitauri attack just several weeks before. Her only day off, and she had used it doing volunteer work. Most people would call her caring, but her older brother would call her stupid.

She sighed, bracing herself for the inevitable lecture as she opened the apartment door. She knew Theodore didn't want her wasting her time helping out when there was still a shortage of money back in her hometown of Camarillo, California.

"Where the hell have you been?" Theodore demanded, and she flinched. She turned to her brother, trying to look innocent. "Please don't tell me you helped clean up the town again."

Beth shrugged, refusing to make eye contact with him and sitting down casually on the couch. "Okay, then, I won't tell you," she tried lightening the mood.

"Beth! How can you joke at a time like this? Mom and Dad didn't send us to New York to goof off and go around helping people like Santa's elves! They sent us here to get work, and send some money back home! Mom will never be able to pay for Dad's cancer bills at this rate!" he snapped. Beth tuned the rest out after that.

It wasn't that Beth didn't want to help. But the city was in ruins, and it would be good to help out. It was her city of residence, after all. She couldn't just stand by and do nothing! She nearly died during that battle, but Captain America had arrived, and saved her life. The memory still lingered in her mind. His bright blue eyes, his iconic uniform, his perfect-

"Beth! Are you listening?" he interrupted her train of thought.

"Yes, of course," she answered, a bit too quickly. Theodore shot her a glare before she looked away. "I'm just a little tired, so I'll go take a shower now." She quickly got up and retreated to her room, locking the door behind her.

Beth sat in front of the television, only half-listening to the chick flick on it. It was a Friday night, and she was sitting on her couch, exhausted, and alone. Even Theodore, the nerdiest guy she knew, had a date. Her scientist brother had a more interesting love than she had. She tilted her head back in exasperation. She really needed a life.

She was working six days a week, and on Fridays she helped out with the clean-up of the town. Theodore never saw eye-to-eye with her. He never looked at things her way. All she wanted to do was to help out. It was her way of being brave, of stepping out of her comfort zone. She always wanted to be brave, she wanted to be like Captain America, to boldly stand in front of an evildoer and do what's right, no matter if he suffered injuries of his own.

'Bang!' a gunshot rang out, and Beth jumped in her seat. In the city, crime rates were increasing, and everyday more and more people were in danger. She knew it was a civilian's job to help prevent these, from pick-pocketing to rapes and murders. And she thought it would help if there were more people like Captain America - humble, respected, and most importantly, brave - and fewer people like her - meek, by-standing, and cowardly.

Beth wanted to help, she really did. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't help running away, she became scared, and fled. It always happened. That's why she wanted to help. She just wanted to be brave. She wanted to help make the world a better place.

She wanted to be like Captain America.

_._._._._.

"Beth, table 7 wants to order," her boss told her, and she nodded dumbly. The cold night air slightly rustled her blonde hair, tied loosely into a ponytail, as she headed to one of the tables placed outside the cafe.

She greeted the customers with a small, forced smile as she took out her notepad and pen. "Make I take your order?" she asked in a cheerful tone. It's fake, as always, but due to years of practice, she could make it very convincing.

After jotting down their orders, she flashed them a quick smile and headed to the kitchen. She lay the piece of paper with the orders on the counter before clearing up several tables.

The good thing about nights were that there were fewer people at cafes such as these. On Saturday nights, most people would prefer going to bars and pubs, few people would rather a quaint little cafe at the corner of a block.

A shrill 'ding' came from the bell on the counter, and she quickly traded the dirty plates in her arms for the dishes of food before heading to the table outside. "Enjoy your meal," she stated politely and left the customers to their meal.

Suddenly, she heard a cry for help. She turned and saw an old lady pointing to a thief, who was clutching her handbag and running in Beth's direction. Beth looked around the sparsely populated street. No one seemed to be heeding the old lady nor the thief, no one looked bothered to help in any way.

Her brain yelled at her to go back into the cafe, to pretend she never saw anything and not get into any trouble, to run away. But no. She couldn't keep running. Now was her chance to be brave, to step up. Now was her chance to be like Captain America, to be a hero.

For Captain America was more than just a superhero. He was her hero. He was brave, humble, kind, such a good role model, someone she could look up to. He was perfect in her eyes.

The thief, wearing a ski-mask, ran past her as she took of her work-required pumps and the next thing she knew, she was running to catch up with the crook. The distance between them was decreasing and after a block or two, she pounced on him, tackling him to the floor.

The man beneath her quickly threw her off before bolting, leaving the handbag behind. Beth quickly picked the handbag up and turned to see the old lady hobbling towards her. After handing her the handbag and assuring the elderly lady it was no problem at all, she said her goodbyes.

She headed back towards the cafe, coming up with a reasonable explanation to her boss in her head as she praised herself for being brave. Stepping up to help others in need, she was so proud of herself. This was just the first step towards being like Captain America. She felt braver than she had ever felt in her whole life. She felt she could take on the whole world all by herself.

All of a sudden, Beth was pulled aside, and she cried out as she felt the barrel of a gun at her head and a masculine arm around her neck. "Shout and it'll be your last breath," her captor warned and she immediately shut her lips. She could smell the alcohol and the smoke his breath as he chuckled mirthlessly. "You shouldn't have helped that old lady."

Realisation came quickly. This was the man wearing the ski-mask, stealing from the helpless old lady. "I wasn't after her money, if that's what your wondering. There was something in there, of vital importance to me. I'll probably never get it, thanks to you. Now here's your thank you gift," the man sneered as he pressed the gun against her head and cocked it.

_._._._._.

Steve Rogers was never one for attention. He wasn't meant for the spotlight, to stand on stage surrounded by skimpily-dressed women. Perhaps that was why the Captain hated those performances he had to put up, and was so eager to finally put it behind him. It felt like just yesterday when he defied orders, sneaking off to save Bucky. It was hard to believe it was nearly seventy years ago.

He put his hands into the pockets of his thin jacket as he continued his night walk. It was summer, so the temperature was still warm, and he didn't get cold due to his very rapid metabolism rate, but the dark-coloured jacket with the hood above his head hid his face well. That, and the night, was his refuge, where the shadows concealed his identity.

After all, he didn't want to end up like Tony, with reporters at his front door every single day, asking about the Avengers, and the Chitauri attack. He welcomed it at first, but after interview after interview for days in a row, even Tony Stark got tired of it.

That was why Steve had retreated to his small apartment at the east of Manhattan, only going out at night, even then wearing a hat, or a hoodie, so that no one would recognise the him as the superhero, the famous Captain America.

Everything would have been fine if that Chitauri hadn't ripped off his mask, exposing his face to the whole world. Sure, his identity wasn't exactly top secret. In his time, everyone knew him. Steve Rogers and Captain America were one and the same. But now, Captain America was forgotten, and that was the way he preferred it.

"Help!" a cry echoed through the night. "Thief! Catch him!" It came from in front of him, an elderly lady pointing towards a retreating figure wearing a ski-mask.

Steve didn't have to think twice before he started running after the man, his hood pushed back to reveal his face the moment he began sprinting. But he didn't have time to fix it. At that moment, he only cared about helping that old lady retrieve her handbag.

Unfortunately, he was quite a distance away from the thief, and by the time he had tried to anticipate which corners and turns the thief had ran. He finally caught up with him, a blonde lady had retrieved the handbag. She was wearing a waitress uniform, and walking back to the elderly lady's direction.

It was nice to see that civilians were helping each other out. It made his job as a superhero and Avengers member much easier. A smile found its way to his face as he saw the blonde return the handbag to the elderly lady.

"It's nothing, really," the blonde lady said in response to her thanks. The elderly lady gave her one last smile before leaving, limping past her, handbag slung on her shoulder.

Steve turned to go, a faint smile playing on his lips, as he hunched over and put his hood back on. He kept his head low as he started to walk away, going back to his apartment.

His head jolted upwards as he heard a small yelp. It came from behind him, and he whipped his head around. It was hard to see due to the dimly lit street, but he could definitely make out a figure of a man, probably the same one as before due to the ski-mask, holding a gun to a woman's head.

Steve made no hesitation to sneak to the concrete wall and silently slide against it so that he was just beside the man. He heard the gun cock and his eyes widened before he punched the man in the side of the head.

The gun fell from his hand as he looked up, astonished, before the look was replaced with annoyance. He tilted his head, his neck making a dramatic 'crack' sound, before he turned to Captain America with a menacing glare.

He threw a punch, which Steve dodged, before swinging his leg around and kicking Steve in the face, causing the latter to stagger backwards. He quickly recovered as he charged toward the man and dodged his attacks before Steve used his arm to wrap around his neck and swung him over. The man did a flip in mid-air, before he fell hard onto the ground. And the next moment, he hurriedly got up and fled.

Beth looked on with mixed emotions - fear, awe, excitement, and gratefulness. This man had saved her life, saved her from being shot in the head by some psychotic thief. In the midst of the battle, the hood of the man who had saved her was pushed back. He was blonde, muscular, and he looked really familiar to her. In fact, he even looked a little like Captain America. But of course it wasn't; the men must have been moving so fast she was seeing something.

"Uh...hi," she said, looking down as she walked up to the blonde man.

"Ma'am," Steve replied. He was uncomfortable, being this close to a stranger with his face shown to the world. What if she recognised him, and was a reporter in disguise?

She bit her lip and toyed with her fingers. This man really looked like Captain America. She'd recognise those blue eyes, those sharp, attractive features, that firm and wonderfully-shaped jawline, and finally, that sense of bravery and selflessness. "My name's Beth, and, uh...thanks for saving my life."

"I'm Steve, and don't worry about it, ma'am, it's my job," he gave her a firm nod before he turned to go. It was better to be impolite and leave now than risk her finding out he was Captain America.

Beth couldn't let him go, not without finding out if he was the superhero. "You're...Captain America, aren't you?" she called, uncertain.

Steve stopped in his tracks and faced her. What could he do now? He had made up his mind to lie and say that she was mistaken, but the moment he looked into those innocent blue-gray eyes, he knew he couldn't. "Yes," he admitted.

Her breath hitched slightly as she took a step towards him. It was now, she realised, that somewhere along the way, she had fallen for him. She had fallen for a guy she barely even knew. But no, she knew him. She knew how brave he was, how selfless he was, how he called ladies 'ma'am'. She knew him.

Beth didn't know what came over her, but she wrapped her arms around his broad chest, and gave him an embrace. She could hear his heartbeat quicken, but she only held on tighter. And after a moment, Steve was hugging back.

"Thank you," she whispered as they pulled away. "For everything."

"It was nothing," Steve answered, his face extremely red.

A moment of silence passed before Beth cleared her throat. "I have to go back to work. Goodbye, Steve," she explained, and with a swift motion, she reached up, kissed his cheek gently, and walked away.

Steve's blush deepened as a shook his head. Girls were never like this in the 1900s, except maybe that dame from the army base. A smile tugged at his lips as he pulled his hood back up and started walking back home.

Beth had a spring in her step as she walked back to the cafe. Her boss was going to kill her, but she didn't care. She had bravely stepped up to help the elderly lady. She had gone up to Captain America, the superhero, and kissed him. Granted, it was on the cheek, but still, she had kissed him!

Turns out her boss didn't kill her. He wasn't even mad. According to him, an elderly lady had come into the cafe and asked for a waitress with blonde hair, tied into a ponytail, for she had retrieved her stolen handbag, and saved the world or something like that. Her boss was impressed, but was uncertain about the saving the world part, though.

"So you're not mad?" she asked, confirming what she heard. It sounded too good to be true.

"Mad? I'm proud of you. You were brave." He started applauding, as did her coworkers, and even some of the customers.

People were cheering for her because she was brave. She had (according to the elderly lady) saved the world because she was brave. She kissed Captain America because she was brave.

Bravery. She could get used to that.


A/N So that's it. I hope you all enjoyed it. Favourite, review, whatever, just thank you so much for reading! Love you guys!

~DBT