Our poor, poor Asgaardian. Is finding good advice really this hard?

Yes. Yes it is.

Let us see if Cap can do any better.

Thanks as always for wonderful reviews! You guys make me grin madly.

The weight room was cold and the lighting dim, most of the overhead lights centered on the boxing ring situated in the middle of the floor.

Standing in the ring, facing away from him, was Steven Rogers. Gloves were pulled over his hands, and his feet hopped and slid slightly in place as he jabbed at the air before him.

Thor stood still a moment and watched him. His fellow immortal—or as close as could be found on Earth-pursuing an endless cycle of preparation; Rogers wanted to be as ready as any of them if and when something occurred that called for the Avengers to intervene.

He admired Captain America, probably more than the rest of them. The man fought to protect his country, his people, and the fact that he was doing so in a time period completely unfamiliar to him made little difference.

They had fought well together. He found himself relying on Rogers during battle to the same degree he could rely on Fandral, or Hogun. A raised shield, ready to defend. A weapon, ready to strike when Mjolnir could not.

Surely this man he trusted so completely could help him understand what he had done to bring forth the cold demeanor he had wrought in Jane.

Thor snatched a pair of open-handed training gloves as he walked up to the ring.

Donning them, he slipped between the ropes behind Rogers.

It wasn't until his boots thudded against the ring floor that the Captain even realized he was there.

Swiftly he turned, hands still raised. Ready to strike if being ambushed.

Thor held his own gloved hands up.

"Easy, Captain. Just me."

Rogers smiled, but kept his hands up.

"Thor, fancy seeing you here. It's been awhile since Fury last called you in." He stopped to look at Thor's hands. "Come to train?"

Thor approached, set his feet firmly apart, and held up his splayed gloves for Rogers to take jabs at. But the Captain did not. He eyed the Asgaardian instead.

"Something wrong, Prince?"

The man was always acutely aware of the distress of his comrades.

It was a trait becoming of someone who lived to protect others.

"I came to ask for your help, actually. Your…advice, to be specific. I have already run into Banner and Barton since arriving. Neither could offer me anything of real value."

Captain America cast him an unsure look. Perhaps not many people had come to him for his advisement in the past?

He took his own stance.

Tapped one of his gloves to Thor's.

"Okay. You help me, I help you. Steady yourself."

Thor quietly marveled for a moment at the massive strength behind Rogers' punches.

"So tell me what the problem is, Thor. I can't imagine very much that could make you nervous."

Amidst the dull echoes of glove-meeting-glove that resounded in the room, there was a silence that permeated between the two super-beings in the boxing ring.

Thor had told the Captain his story. Asked him what he thought the Asgaardian prince should do to make Jane happy again.

The quiet that followed made said prince even more frustrated than before.

Finally, a softer, weaker jab made contract with Thor's right glove. He felt the loss in the half-hearted blow.

"Thor, I've been asleep for almost seventy years, as you know. You read my file at HQ. You remember what it said about me pre-procedure?" Rogers had lowered his hands, began stripping the gloves from them. A sad smile crossed his features.

Thor lowered his own hands.

Apparently the spar was over.

Leaning back against the ropes, Thor thought back.

Of course. Steven Rogers had once been a man of less-than-average strength, but above-average courage. Small and weak, it had been only his bravery and determination that had seen him selected for the experiment that created the powerhouse standing before him in the ring.

A defeated groan escaped Thor's lips as he brought a training glove to his face and sighed into it.

"Let me guess. You have very little experience with women too, right?"

Steve chuckled, reached up to scratch at the back of his head awkwardly.

"For the most part, I had none. Had a chance for a date, once. Screwed even that up. Got myself frozen for almost one-hundred years. A woman smiles at me, and my brain stops working. You're keener on women-even in your current situation-than I've been in the near century I've been alive."

It wasn't the Captain's fault that Thor suddenly wanted to throw a set of three-hundred pound weights through a wall.

At the rate he was going, it would be better for him to just go back to New Mexico and suffer Jane's bitingly chilly silence.

He sighed again, a deep, almost helpless tone leaking into it like blood into water.

Perhaps he should just give up on finding aid. It seemed none of his comrades could give him any sort of….

"Hey, have you tried talking to Tony yet?"

Thor practically felt his ears move to catch Roger's voice.

"Stark? No…why? Do you think he could help me with this?"

The two moved out of the ring, and Steve began digging into a nearby cooler for a bottle of water. Thor's hand instinctively snapped up to catch the one tossed his way.

"Well, he is the only other guy involved in an actual relationship, besides yourself. You know, the redhead that we see at his hip so often? With the heels and notepad? She has a really unique nickname…."

Her last name was Potts, Thor recalled. Tony sometimes referred to her by it. He also called her…..

'Pep'.

"Pepper Potts."

Rogers snapped his fingers and downed half of his water in one fluid swig.

"Yeah, that's her. Besides, I've seen stuff about him on the television. In magazines, too. He's practically everywhere. And from what I hear, he used to be in the presence of countless women at any day and time. If you need help with Jane, I'd go to him."

Thor nodded, squeezed the last of his own water into his mouth and tossed the crushed plastic across the room into a waste bin.

Now that he thought about it, Thor himself had seen old pictures of Tony Stark in these 'magazines'. And in almost every one of them, Thor had seen his friend nearly inundated with random women.

Thor also noted the ever-present Pepper Potts in the background.

Perhaps Tony finally realized his assistant was the only woman he actually needed?

No matter. The point was that the quick-witted, egocentric, technologically dependent man that often took it upon himself to lead the Avengers into battle knew women.

And Thor felt he would go completely mad if he heard one more of his friends tell him to ask someone else…..

I tried to make Cap a bit more modernized (considering, at this point, he should be mostly acclimated to the new century and its bright flashy tech) but also let his old-school mannerisms slip through from time to time. I mean, who says words like "fancy" anymore? ;)

Love you gais. Please let me know how it goes so far!