"I was supposed to be questioning you," Elizabeth said to Steve as they ambled down the sidewalk. He held her bag with ease in his hands and his other arm remained in a fixed position, allowing her to hold onto it. Her touch was light against his muscles and she wondered how much time had spent inside of a gym. She didn't think that it was possible for someone to be built like he was.

"There really isn't anything to know about me," he said to her. How he knew that was a lie. But, he didn't want to discuss how he had been frozen for a few decades and had woken up to this strange world. Nothing made sense to him and he didn't really want to admit that to her.

"What do you do as a living?" she asked him and he thought for a moment. A job. He hadn't even considered having a job since he woke up. He was a soldier through and through. There was nothing else which would ever appeal to him. He supposed he was still working for S.H.I.E.L.D., but, he hadn't heard anything from them in the past few days and it wasn't like he could tell Lizzie of them.

"I was a soldier," he decided to tell her and she looked up to him. She could easily see that.

"Iraq?" she asked him and he simply decided to nod with her. There was a war in Iraq? How was he supposed to know about that? He was still trying to work a microwave never mind catching up with modern news and foreign affairs. "What happened?"

"I was injured," he lied. Well, it wasn't really a lie. He had been injured. He'd been frozen for years. He classed that as an injury. "So, here I am in New York again until I decide what to do in life. I don't like to talk about the past. It's a piece of my life I would prefer to keep private."

"That's fine," Lizzie assured him as they saw the apartment block and Steve fished around for his keys as Lizzie followed him up the steps. "I mean, I'm just some stranger who you've met."

"Like I said," Steve spoke down to her. "I don't see you as a stranger. I know your name and I know a bit about you."

He suddenly realised that she wasn't listening as her eyes glanced down the hallway on the first floor and she saw the apartment which her and Geoff had been living in. Steve looked back at her and followed her gaze. Slowly, he placed his hand onto the small of her back and her eyes moved back onto him and she forced a smile onto her face before following him up the steps.

"I know it isn't easy for you, ma'am," Steve informed her. "Living above the man who treated you with distaste."

"No, Mr Rogers, it isn't," she confirmed and Steve finally opened the door to his apartment before arching a brow and allowing her into his apartment, switching the light on as he did so.

"You can call me Steve," he said to her and she looked at him with vague amusement before staring around his apartment, wondering what personal touches he had around the place.

"And you can call me Elizabeth," she spoke back slyly. "Until you do then you're Mr Rogers."

Steve smirked, thinking about her wit as he shut the door to his apartment and placed the chain into the bolt whilst Lizzie wandered around the small living room, her arms folded as she felt slightly out of place. Steve coughed once, his hand covering his mouth as he placed her bag onto the sofa and he dropped his keys onto the kitchen worktop. How did he do this? How did he host guests? And a female at that. He had shared room with males, but never a female. Never mind having her stay the night. Back in his day the neighbours would have whispered about him whilst they did their laundry.

Today, no one would blink an eye. It was deemed normal.

Slowly, he thought about what his mother would tell him to do. All he had to do was be his proper and polite self to her.

"So, I'll let you get to bed if you want," Lizzie said to him quickly. "I don't want to intrude on whatever you do in the evening."

"It is half past one in the morning," Steve chuckled. "I think sleeping is in order. Do you want to use the bathroom?"

"No," she assured him. "I'll use it after you."

Steve nodded at her as she perched herself on the edge of his sofa and he moved into the bathroom. She didn't intend on bringing out the sofa bed. Just the sofa would be fine. It was big enough anyway, what with its soft leather and wide width. No, she'd be quite fine just collapsing to sleep before she had to get up and do her shift at the accountant's reception area for the morning.

And then she had to go and serve coffee until six at night. She wondered if there really was any rest in New York City. She brought her hands into the bag and found a pair of pyjamas with her black clutch and purse resting in it. At least she didn't have to go back for that. She wondered what she did have to go back for. The apartment was Geoff's. She simply lived there. She guessed nothing was hers except for her purse and passport and clothes. Nothing else really mattered to her. Possessions just filled the place up.

"I brought you a blanket and pillow from the cupboard in the bathroom," Steve's voice snapped her out from her thoughts and she looked into his blue eyes as he placed them onto the arm of the sofa. "Do you need any help?"

"No," she promised him. "I'm just going to go and change and then I'll sleep...I'll be out of your hair tomorrow, I promise. Faster than you can say Indiana Jones," she joked and Steve's brow furrowed together as he looked at her and she stared back at him. "Don't you know who Indiana Jones is?" she asked him and he wondered if he did. But, he was pretty sure that he didn't.

"No, ma'am," he said back to her.

"Well, Mr Rogers," Elizabeth spoke back and Steve grinned. "He was a treasure hunter and archaeologist...sort of got into trouble and got out of situations quickly...I got the quote from Notting Hill...it's my favourite film." She informed him and the vacant look on his face told her that she would have been better off rambling to the empty vase on his coffee table.

"So," Elizabeth drawled, "I will go use the bathroom and then I'll be gone tomorrow morning. I promise."

"No worries, Miss Meyer," he told her and she groaned under her breath, wondering why he was so formal. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need to."

"I don't want to intrude," she said and he shook his head.

"You're not," he promised her, walking off to his bedroom as she stood in the doorway for the bathroom. The pair of them turned back to look at each other and Elizabeth nodded once at him.

"Goodnight then, Mr Rogers. And thank you...well...for everything..."

"Goodnight ma'am," he spoke back and the pair of them continued to look at each other before Elizabeth made the first move and went into the bathroom.

Steve turned the handle to the door and walked inside of his bedroom, his mind still confused as to this Notting Hill and Indiana Jones business.

...

Sleep wasn't something which came naturally to Steve. He knew that much. He often spent his nights laying awake and staring into the darkness, memories of the past clouding his mind and stopping him from ever sleeping soundly. But, the past wasn't bothering him that night. No, his mind was entirely focused on the girl sleeping in his living room. He listened intently as she padded around the living room and finally settled herself onto his sofa and he wondered how a man could treat her the way in which her ex had done.

She'd told him that he was called Geoff and the pair of them had met when she was just finishing off college. Apparently he was four years older and had a stable job as a manager of some bar.

Steve's mind was already trying to adjust to the times, what with the development of technology and machines like microwaves. Now he had to deal with the fact that men hit women and were able to get away with it. It screamed wrong to him.

Finally, he allowed his mind to slowly close down, realising that even a superhero needed sleep.

...

The apartment was quiet the next day when he got up. He stretched in his bed quickly, looking around his room as light flooded through his curtains and the clock to the side of him informed him that it was six a.m. That was considered a good night's sleep for him. It was rare he went three hours without waking up.

He plodded around his bedroom dressed in the cotton pyjamas he had before he moved out into the living room, his sounds muted to make sure he didn't disturb her. But, it seemed that she wasn't disturbed. His eyes instantly went to the empty sofa with the folded up blanket and pillow.

"Good morning," she spoke softly, turning around when she heard him leave the bedroom, the clicking of the door handle being a giveaway sign. Steve's eyes danced over to the kitchen where she was stood. She'd changed and showered, her hair was piled on top of her head, still damp from her shower. Her clothes were neat, the red dress quite short on her frame. His mother would easily have disapproved of it. He couldn't help but notice her legs looked like twigs, even though they seemed to never end.

"I...well...I made breakfast," she told him. "I hope you don't mind...I mean...there was eggs so...well...I scrambled them. There's coffee on the table or orange juice. I thought that was the least I could do. You like eggs, don't you?" she checked with him and he nodded at her, watching as she stood at the oven and scrambled the eggs. Even he'd managed to work the oven. That thing had proved it wasn't his nemesis.

"You didn't have to," he informed her and she shook her head.

"You took in a strange woman without a question," she reminded him. "I guess it was the least that I could."

"Well, thank you," Steve spoke and she shrugged.

"Don't mention it." She told him and dished it onto a plate quickly. Only one plate. Steve looked at her as she set it down on the small wooden table.

"Are you not having breakfast?" he wondered and she shook her head.

"I need to be at work for half past seven," she informed him quickly, moving back off to the sofa and grabbing onto her black clutch bag and then slipping into the flat ballet pumps which she wore. "I'll eat something later. I don't do breakfast."

"Where do you work?" he wondered. He hadn't even asked her the night before. She'd quoted films to him but hadn't mentioned that small piece of information.

"An accountants in the morning. I man the phones and do the photocopying . Then someone comes in the afternoon and I go to the coffee shop we went to last night for a shift," she said. "But, I'll find somewhere else to stay tonight so I'm out of you way."

"There really is no need, ma'am," he promised her, deciding to speak instead of being lost on what photocopying was.

"There is," she responded. "So, enjoy your breakfast. I'll come back for my stuff later."

"What time do you finish your shift?" Steve asked.

"Six," she informed him, shrugging into her black blazer. "Thanks again for everything."

"Will you be okay getting to work?" he asked and she raised a brow at him.

"I'll manage," she simply spoke. "I'll see you later."

Steve didn't really gain a chance to say anything back to her before she had left and was rushing down the apartment to get to work.

...

No amount of foundation was hiding the bruise which was forming on Elizabeth's cheek. She knew that. She also knew that she was attracting stares all day because of it. Everyone asked if she was okay and she always answered yes. It wasn't until she started her shift in the coffee house when her manager saw her and asked her the same question. But, she didn't take her okay as a real answer.

"I've been living in Manhattan for sixty two years, missy," she said, wagging her finger as Elizabeth set down the plate she had been washing in the back. "I've seen girls hide the bruises with make-up and it doesn't hide the fact that it happened."

"We had an argument, Brenda," Lizzie sighed, checking the clock which informed her it was half past five. "He's been having affairs galore and I didn't know about it."

"That asshole," Brenda spoke back, leaning against the worktop behind Lizzie who chuckled once.

"That's what I called him last night."

"And he had the cheek to hit you?" Brenda snapped rhetorically. "I hope you left his sorry ass."

"I didn't really have to," Lizzie spoke, picking up a tea towel and beginning to dry the plates she had just soaked with soap. "He kicked me out before I could walk out."

"How dare he," Brenda said, her fists shaking. "Men are like worms, Lizzie, honey. Trust me, there ain't any decent ones left in this City."

"Amen to that," Lizzie said and the woman nodded back at her. "I think there might be one though."

"Well, give me his number," Brenda joked and Elizabeth laughed with her.

"He lives above Geoff. He's new in the apartment and he witnessed the entire thing last night between me and Geoff. He kind of...well...he took me in last night..." Lizzie said and Brenda arched a brow.

"And he didn't try to get into your skirt?"

"Brenda!" Lizzie complained, rolling her eyes. "No, he didn't. Steve was a perfect...well...Jesus, I guess he was a gentleman."

"Bloody hell," Brenda said. "And this is coming from the one who believes that chivalry is dead and men want nothing other than a woman who can cook and clean and please them in the sack?"

"I wonder where I get that pessimistic attitude from," Lizzie said and Brenda pointed to herself.

"Are you accusing me of corrupting you, sweetie?" she asked and Lizzie shook her head.

"Never," she teased. "No...I thought that Geoff was different. How wrong was I? It's all I've ever had, Brenda. They treat you right for the first few months. Get you where they want you and then that is it. The romance is dead. I'm sure of it."

"Babe, you're twenty six," Brenda said. "You're not my age. The world can be full of many surprises. The only man I met was in the sixties and I lost him. Now I have a vendetta against them all because I don't have my Richard. It's just an act, honey. I lost the one who treated me well and that's it."

"Brenda," Lizzie sighed, kissing her on the cheek quickly. "Any guy would be lucky to have you and your sarcastic wit."

"And don't you forget it," Brenda said, not wanting her to go soppy. "Now go and change out of that uniform and get your bony ass back to this guy who is looking after you."

"It isn't six."

"You think I can't tell the time, girly?" Brenda said shrilly. "Get off."

"Thanks, Brenda," Lizzie said, moving back to the changing room and changing from the pink uniform and into her red dress, grabbing her clutch and the moving back out front. She walked past the counter with her bag under her arm and she did a double take when she saw him stood there.

"Steve," she startled herself and he looked at her, stood in his usual brown leather jacket and a different cotton shirt along with brown pants. "What are you doing here?"

"You said you left at six. I thought that I could ask a favour from you," he said coyly and Lizzie nodded.

"What is it?"

"I don't really remember much of New York," he admitted with a slight lie. "I thought that you could show me the sights."

"Tonight?" she checked. "I'm supposed to be looking for somewhere else to live."

"And like I said, ma'am," he replied. "There is no need."

"Fine...if you want to," Lizzie shrugged nonchalantly, walking past him before she heard Brenda call her from behind the counter.

"Loopy Lovely Lizzie!" she yelled and Elizabeth smiled softly before turning around and looking at her. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your arm candy?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes, giving Steve an apologetic look before she turned around and saw Brenda eyeing him up.

"Brenda, this is Steve," she said. "Steve, this is Brenda. She's my manager and Steve is the guy I was telling you about earlier."

"Is he?" Brenda wondered, amusement held on her face and Lizzie remained mute.

"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Steve said, his head bowing slightly as Brenda wiped down the counter.

"Ma'am," she repeated. "You're right. He certainly is polite. I hope you're going to treat our little waitress right, sir."

"That is my full intention, ma'am," Steve promised her and Lizzie gave her eyes another roll.

"Come on, Steve," she motioned for him to follow her to the door. "We'd best be going."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Steve said back to Brenda who saluted him once before he followed Elizabeth out the diner.

"So, where do you want to go in Manhattan?" Elizabeth asked him as the sun began to slowly set down and behind the skyscrapers and he offered her his arm again. She took it once more, thinking back to Brenda's conversation with her.

"I have heard that Central Park is lovely," he said. "The only place of greenery within this concrete jungle."

"Ah yes, the concrete jungle where dreams are made of," Elizabeth joked with him and Steve looked back at her, wondering why she had just sung that. "It's Jay Z and Alicia Keys?" she said. "Empire State of Mind...a song all about New York."

"Jazzy?" Steve asked, repeating his name wrongly and Lizzie couldn't help but laugh at him and shake her head.

"Have you been living under the sea for the past decade?" she wondered from him and he chuckled at that, muttering under his breath;

"Something like that."

...

"You know, you seem to know your way around Central Park," she said to Steve who smiled wryly in front of him. "Considering you've been leading the way for the past ten minutes."

"Maybe I have a plan," he whispered and Elizabeth shook her head again as he stopped outside a small forested area off the beaten track. She looked into the darkening woods before seeing the picnic basket and the blanket laid there. She looked back at him and he shrugged, settling himself onto the blanket.

"I told you that there is still such a thing as a gentleman," he reminded her and she hesitantly sat down, wondering what he was doing as he found a can of cola and handed it to her. She rested it in her lap, sitting upright on her knees and he saw her hesitant expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked and she bit down on her bottom lip.

"What is this, Steve?" she asked and he looked around.

"I think this is a picnic," he told her and she shook her head quickly.

"No, I mean why are you doing this?" Lizzie rephrased and he drank some of his drink.

"I'm trying to show you that the world isn't as dark as you seem to think it is," Steve said and Elizabeth shook her head.

"No," she said. "Guys only do this for girls when they have ulterior motives. Like when they're trying to get into their pants and get them into bed."

Steve scoffed at hearing that and Elizabeth scrutinised him, slowly pushing herself to her feet.

"Is that what this is about?" she snapped. "You see I'm vulnerable and think wooing will work to get me into bed with you and then you can dump me?"

"Ma'am," Steve said gently, pushing himself up and she held a hand to silence him.

"And the manners? The ma'am and miss...you can stop it, Steve...I've met guys like you...I've met guys and they've all been the same. Even the one who I moved in with," Elizabeth said and glared at him. "I'll see you later."

"Elizabeth," Steve called after her, walking after her and catching her up in record time, his hand snaking around her wrist and she turned back to face him. "Would you listen to me?"

"Why?" she snapped.

"Because I don't want to get into your pants," he quoted her back to her. "I don't even agree with anything like that."

"Come off it, Steve. You're a guy in NY."

"And I'm one of the good ones," he assured her. "I don't believe in taking advantage of a woman. I don't believe in sleeping with them until after marriage when I've asked for a father's permission to do so. I don't consider this to mean anything other than me trying to show you that the world isn't tainted. I was trying to do something nice."

Elizabeth listened to him, hearing his morals and wondering if he was joking with her or being deadly serious. The look on his face told her that he was being deadly serious. His blue eyes held nothing other than sincerity and Elizabeth didn't believe it.

"You don't believe in sex before marriage?" she asked.

"I'm old fashioned," he explained.

"You can say that again," she mumbled back. "I..this type of thing happens in movies, Steve. Not in real life."

"Then why can't your life be like a movie?"

"Because it isn't," Lizzie replied. "I've come to accept that."

"From what I can see, you've been hurt," Steve admitted. "More than once, I am assuming."

"You assume correctly," Lizzie grumbled.

"Then let me do something nice for you, Ma...Elizabeth," he said her full name.

"Why?" she asked him. "You don't even know me, Steve."

"I know that you deserve to be shown some kindness," Steve promised her. "And that's all this is."

"Fine," Elizabeth gave up against him and he dropped her wrist from his large hand. "You're one of a kind, Steve. Do you know that?"

"I have an idea."

...

A/N: So I don't know whether to leave this where it is or make it a full blown story going into the Avengers. Reviews would be appreciated to let me know what you think, pretty please? This is new territory to me.

Anyway, thanks to Birdy Jones, Guest and Mika927 for reviewing the first part!