"Jonson!"

Rosalie almost jumped out of her skin at the sound her of name being called. She dropped her pen to her desk and looked up to Marina as she stood before her, holding a piece of paper dotted in red pen marks. Biting down on her bottom lip, Rosalie watched on as Marina let the paper flutter down onto her desk. Rosalie knew that she was in trouble. She could tell by the fact that the woman's face looked like thunder.

"Do you remember what you said last week?" Marina dared to ask and Rosalie shook her head before nodding.

"No, I mean, yes, I do remember, but it's become complicated," Rosalie defended herself from the woman's angry tone. "Look, I have been with him for the past week and he's not like what people think."

Marina dropped a hand to her hip and tilted her head to the side. "Do you think I care about his puppy dog stare and sob story?"

"I doubt you care for anyone's sob story," Rosalie spoke in a mutter so that Marina couldn't hear her fully. She picked up the paper and looked over the red marks, ignoring them before screwing the piece of paper up and tossing it into the bin underneath her desk.

"The copy you sent me on him is useless," Marina said, pointing to the bin where the paper now sat. "They were facts, Jonson. There was nothing in there that was publishable. You've been talking to him for the past week. There has to be something of use?"

Rosalie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She could feel all of the sets of eyes on her as she looked to them and they quickly turned back to their Macs, ignoring her harsh stare before her eyes went back to Marina.

"He has no interest of going on the record," Rosalie spoke, not that she had even asked him before. She had no intention of asking him because she knew the answer.

"Then go on the record for him," Marina declared. "Write a piece from your point of view of him. What is he like? Is he lost? That would be more interesting than reeling off his entire biography."

Frowning, Rosalie shrugged her shoulders and picked her pen up from her desk to twirl in her fingers, as she remained silent and contemplative. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."

Mike scoffed loudly at the desk next to Rosalie then. "Comfortable," he muttered the word as though it was blasphemy. And it was to a journalist. How many times had she been told to move out her comfort zone? Yet this was something she did not want to do.

"Jonson, do you know why I hired you?" Marina demanded from Rosalie.

"My impeccable wit and charm?" Rosalie asked sarcastically and Marina pursed her lips into a tight line before glowering over to Rosalie.

"Not quite," she said, trying to keep her temper under control as Rosalie did her best not to look too shocked with her boss's anger. She should have seen this coming. She really should have known that she couldn't get away with it. "I hired you because you were a pusher. I had never met anyone as pushy as you before. You do what has to be done to get a story, despite who you step over. So, imagine how weird I found it when I read that piece of crap on Captain America."

Groaning, Rosalie dropped her pen forcefully onto the desk. "I'm used to stepping over bent congressmen and dodgy Senators," Rosalie hissed. "I have no intention of screwing over a guy who saved this planet."

"Why?" Marina wondered. "Don't tell me you think he's handsome? What is it? You're sleeping with him?"

"I've met him four times," Rosalie snarled back.

"Then what? Don't tell me you're scared of asking him because he's some kind of superhero?" Marina demanded.

Shaking her head, Rosalie kept her mouth closed. She hadn't asked him because she saw how scared he was. The man could barely use a microwave, never mind think about going to a national newspaper with his worries. Besides, there was a selfish part of Rosalie that didn't see Steve as the story. She saw him as a lost man and she felt for him. And she liked him. She liked him as a person. She had hung out with him a couple of times and each time she had taught him something new and he had told her something about his past. Sometimes it felt as though Steve was the only friend she had.

"Do you know what?" Marina asked. "I'm not interested. Either get him to do an interview or write a thousand words on him from your point of view. I want it by next Friday. Got it?"

Rosalie had no chance to answer back before Marina was heading off the conference room with her deputy editor. Keeping quiet, Rosalie looked to her Mac and checked her email.

"Seems to me like someone's got a crush on the Cap," Mike suddenly piped up.

"Seems to me like someone only speaks up when he's not scared of getting his balls handed to him on a plate," Rosalie sniped back, not even bothering to look to Mike as he stood up and moved slowly towards her desk, his hands gripping onto the arms of her chair as he leant over her, his mouth close to her ear.

"You should be careful, Jonson," he warned her in a soft hum. "You're treading on dangerous ground."

"Piss off, Mike," Rosalie snarled and Mike patted her once on the shoulder before heading over to the showbiz desk, no doubt to flirt with Mindy.

Rosalie let out a shaky breath and opened a word document, preparing to write down her time with Steve Rogers. But she couldn't even begin to type. Her hands froze over the keyboard as she shook her head and closed the document. Moving with haste, she grabbed her satchel and mac before leaving the office. She deserved to finish early after the show she just gave everyone in the newsroom.

…

Standing outside of the bar, Rosalie rocked back and forth on her heels as she waited with patience for Steve. They had agreed to meet outside of the small bar because it was a secluded area and Steve wasn't into the busy places. The air was chilly and it was turning dark as Rosalie checked the time on her phone. Steve was four minutes late. That was unusual for him. He was never late for anything.

"I am so sorry."

Rosalie jumped as his voice came out of nowhere and she turned around to see him stood there. Since she had left work early she had gone home and changed into a checked red pinafore, placing her white blouse underneath it with black tights. She clutched her satchel to her side before smiling to Steve.

"It's fine," she told him.

"So should we grab a drink?"

He rubbed his hands together and Rosalie drank in the brown leather jacket he wore over a checked shirt. He looked particularly rugged and his hair wasn't as neat as it usually was. She said nothing on the matter. Instead she shook her head at his question and dared to speak to him.

"Can we take a walk first?" Rosalie wondered from him. "I kind of have something I need to tell you."

"Sure," Steve agreed and began to walk beside her, keeping his paces at her speed as she looked down to the ground and tucked her hair behind her ear, doing her best not to seem too worried with how he would take her piece of news.

"So," Steve started the conversation and Rosalie looked up to him, realising that she had said nothing to him, despite being the one who wanted to talk.

"Yeah," Rosalie mumbled, not sure if she wanted to tell him the truth about why she had befriended him to begin with. Would he forgive her? Would he be angry? But why did she care so much? Why did this matter to her? She didn't know, but she knew that she had to find out.

"Look, whatever you have to tell me can't be that bad," Steve tried to lighten the mood.

"I just don't want you to hate me," she responded. "Because when I think about what I did…well…I kind of hate myself for it. Not that I have done anything really…well…I could do…"

"Rose," Steve said and Rosalie glanced up to him, her brows knitted together.

"Did you just call me Rose?" she dared to wonder from him and he bit down on his lip before shrugging.

"Sorry," he said. "Do you-"

"-It's fine," Rosalie promised him. "It's just that no one really calls me Rose. Even my parents call me Rosalie, but it's fine. I don't mind you calling me Rose."

Nodding, Steve went quiet again, his hands in his pockets as Rosalie stood still on the quiet sidewalk, a light above them flickering and casting incomplete shadows on the ground beneath as cars slowly drove past.

"That day in the park," Rosalie told him. "Not the day we met, but the day after."

"I remember," Steve assured her with a nod. He doubted he would forget meeting her there.

"Well, the thing is," Rosalie declared with a nervous glance around. "I went there to find you. I…after the first time we met…I went to the newsroom and told them I had found you. I said it was a story, but they didn't agree. They wanted more. They wanted this big exclusive with Captain America and so they sent me back out and I bumped into you again. I…I went there with the intention of befriending you to get a story."

The look on Steve's face fell as Rosalie shook her head, her hands shaking by her sides as Steve continued to watch her, allowing her to continue on with her story before he retorted back to her comments.

"But I got to know you. We went for a drink and then coffee…and then we met again for a meal…and from that first night we went out for a drink I didn't want to befriend you for a story. I wanted to be your friend because I liked you, because I saw that there was more to you than just the star spangled suit."

Steve kept quiet and Rosalie took another breath before looking around, almost as though she was scared to look at Steve. He did nothing but look at her with wonder, almost as though he was trying to weigh up her words. He kept on staring as she bit down on her bottom lip, her gaze narrow and her hands clenched together by her stomach. Steve could see that she was in turmoil. He knew that, but he didn't know how to react. Steve had never been too great in a social situation. He had barely had to converse in such a manner before.

But what she said bore some truth to it. She looked at him beyond the suit. She saw more than the stars and stripes. Sometimes Steve struggled to remember that there was something beyond that, but he often remembered that he was just a man. Yes, he had super serum, but he still was just a man. And Rosalie saw that.

"God, you can't even look at me," Rosalie whispered after a second, the hurt in her voice evident as she dared to peer to Steve. "I'll just go. You don't need me here."

It took Steve a moment before he reached out and grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving. She startled at the feeling of his hand around her skin, but she had to admit that it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Daring to move her gaze up, Rosalie met Steve's gaze and she saw that he was looking at her with a rueful smile.

"It's fine," he responded to her. "I…I don't want this to stop us being friends."

"Really?" she responded.

"Really," Steve said. "I mean, you told me the truth, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but at first I was going to lie to you…to string you along…"

"But you didn't," Steve said, trying to forget the conversation they were having. He shrugged his shoulder and dropped her wrist before running his hand down the back of his head. "I mean, you did for a bit, but you just told me. You could have kept lying to me, Rose."

There he was again with the nickname. She kept silent for a moment before rocking back and forth on her heels. She nodded, taking deep breaths and wondering what she had just done to her career. She doubted her boss would be happy with her response, but she struggled to care. She liked Steve, and in this town she didn't have many friends. It was nice to have Steve as a friend.

"Friends again?" Steve checked.

She smiled to him and nodded her head. "Friends."

….

A/N: Let me know what you think!