Author's Note: Yay! Jesse and Steve finally meet in this chapter! Soon things should be getting good as I kinda know what I want to happen in the next few chapters. The next chapter should be up soon because I will be in holiday break. Again, please please pretty please leave a review, I absolutely adore them and I still only have gotten one. Thank you so much for reading and I hope that you enjoy!

The four of us took turns taking up watch. Natasha had poked my cheek to wake me and I was now in our small kitchen, leaning against the fridge, and sipping on some chai. It was one thirty in the morning. Everything was still.

The woman- I hated calling her that, I want to call her by her name, I don't want her to be anonymous and faceless- was still lying on the couch. I moved towards her, part of me saying that I was creepy and no better than Coulson. I silently say down on the coffee table, my knees barely touching the couch. In the calm, I could now see her.

She looked to be in her twenties. Her honey colored curls spilled over the edge of the couch. What remained of her dark violet scrubs was folded up at her feet. She was in a black camisole, the rest of her was covered in blankets. I looked at her hands now. Her fingernails were unpainted and she wore two simple silver rings, one on each hand. Neither of them appeared to be a wedding ring. I was relieved. If we had to take her underground and off the grid with us, we wouldn't have to tell a spouse. This was safest.

Maybe it was simply from being knocked out, but I noticed goosebumps along her neck. Cold or not, I found myself uncomfortable with how bare she was. She might be, too, when she wakes up. I left my mug on the table and headed to my room. I rifled through my flannels until I found the most monstrous in size and returned to the living room.

She was sitting up on the couch, one arm extended to press against her forehead. I heard her release a small sound of a whimper. She hadn't noticed me yet. I shifted my weight to make the floorboards creak. The woman turned her head, her eyes instantly finding and locking onto mine.

Her skin was pale, but slightly sun kissed on her nose and tops of her cheekbones. Dotted along the bridge of her nose were dozens of tiny freckles. Her mouth was small, but her lips were relatively full and a deep rose color. She had thick brown eyebrows that were soft in comparison to her square jaw line. But her eyes are what got to me. They stopped me in my tracks and made my heart skip a beat then seemingly pause. They were big and round and the same warm honey color of her hair, yet brighter and more intense. They shone even in the low light of the side table's lamp. Her eyelashes were thick and long and the color of milk chocolate.

We just stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. She broke the silence first.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was soft and quiet, yet strong and sincere.

I nodded, a small smile on my face. She was almost killed, in a strange man's house all bruised up and bloody, and she was asking ME if I was okay. I walked over to the chair next to the couch and lifted my arm to hand her the flannel I fetched for her. She thanked me, put it on, and sat up further.

I spoke now. "How did you know there was a bomb?" She shrugged her shoulders.

"I smelled the gas and gunpowder, saw you down the hallway near a window and pushed you out of the building." She said it nonchalantly, like it was nothing.

"Well you saved my life," I said seriously.

"You saved mine." She said just as seriously. We fell back into a silence again, but it didn't feel awkward.

"What now?" She asked, saying it lightly. "I mean, shouldn't the F. B. I. be on to this?" She laughed now. "I'm surprised you don't have The Avengers knocking on your door, really."

I tried to act normal after that. I sometimes forget that not everyone in the universe recognizes us up close.

"Why do you trust me?" I turned on her.

"Because why would a guy that I kept from getting blown up bring me all the way across town, patch me up, give me more clothes to wear and THEN kill me?" She shot back.

I tilted my head in agreement.

I then told her the story Natasha had made up for me about what happened and why. I was an S. H. I. E. L. D. agent (which isn't too far from the truth) undercover to protect the ambassador's daughter. I had failed my mission and almost ended up in bits and pieces in a body bag. I had taken her back to my partner's (that would be Sam) house for safety. I was medically trained and fixed her up and waited for her to gain consciousness. I told her my name was Steven Ringly(I am awful at lying and hate it so Nat let me tell a half truth this time).

I felt so dirty lying to her, her big golden eyes taking in every word and believing them. Trusting me so quickly and easily.

"Can you show me some ID?"

I pulled the doctored badge out of my back pocket; it was from a few missions ago when I went by the same pseudonym. She inspected it closely and handed it back, satisfied.

"My name is Jessica. Harvelle." She said sticking out her hand for me to shake. I took it. Her hand was tiny, but it had some strength to them. And she was warm to the touch.

"Nice to meet you Ms," I said cordially. She held up her hand.

"I'm only 25, and besides: I think you helping me so much gives you he right to call me by my first name. May I do the same to you or is it-" She hunched up her shoulders and spoke in a deeper mock-serious voice. "-'Agent Ringly'?" I smiled and shook my head.

"Just 'Steven' works."

"Ever try going by Steve? Or would that confuse your co-workers with Mr. America?" She asked humorously.

"It's 'Captain'," I corrected under my breath. But she heard me.