Author's Note: I guess y'all are scratching your heads due to Steve's weird behavior. That's okay. It means you guys are interested. Enjoy! ;) x

...

When Natasha arrived home, still wearing her dress (Pepper told her to keep it at her place), she found Steve lying on the couch. He was fast asleep, and when she headed over to the kitchen she found a plate on the dining table with at least two pancakes on it. She then noticed that the mixing bowl and the measuring cups and teaspoons were all washed and piled up neatly on the kitchen counter.

The pancakes looked delicious, and they were, only they were cold. She didn't mind. She also had a feeling that this was going to be the first of many kind gestures, since he held her in a high regard (you saved me and all that).

After washing up and changing into comfortable clothes, she climbed into bed, but not before taking one last look at the man.

For a while, she couldn't sleep, thoughts of that man sleeping on her couch invading her mind. He'd looked so troubled, like he was having nightmares. It was quite hard to notice, but she saw it anyway. She knew what it was like to have nightmares. Eventually, she got out of bed, and took a spare blanket from her closet. She headed over to him, and carefully draped the blanket on him. He immediately curled up underneath, and she frowned. He must've been cold. Usually, she woke up from a bad dream sweating. He was only shivering. She made the right choice in keeping him warm, but she still couldn't accept that he was having terrible dreams...

Proud of herself, either way, she went back to bed.

When she woke up early the next morning, she opened her bedroom door slowly, peeking out to see if Steve was still asleep so she'd know if she had to walk out quietly. Surprised, she pulled the door all the way open and smiled widely when she noticed that Steve was gone and the blanket was folded neatly on the couch. She glanced to the side and saw him sitting at the dining table, doodling on a piece of paper.

She walked over. "Good morning."

He looked up at her and smiled. She sat next to him. "Good morning, Natasha," he greeted as well. "Thanks for the blanket. I hope you didn't mind." She shook her head. "Anyway, I also hope you don't mind me taking a piece of paper and pen from your coffee table. I wanted to, um, draw. You work at an art center?"

She stared at him. He smiled at her sheepishly. "I guess that was a lot to take in for one morning, huh?"

"No!" she said quickly. Too quickly. "No, it's fine. It's just... how'd you know I work an Art Center?" she corrected herself.

"The paper," he answered. "It has a logo on it. Red Room Art Center," he read out loud.

She nodded. "Oh, yeah." She chuckled, remembering that she kept one of her center's notepads at home. "To be honest, though, I actually own it."

The way he looked at her made her feel special. He looked at her like she was the greatest woman alive. "Really?" She nodded and almost laughed when his eyes grew wide. "No way! I mean, it was one thing to know that you're allowing me to stay here... but it's amazing to realize that you also own an Art Center! I love art. Or drawing, really..." he trailed off, smiling shyly again. "Sorry for... um..."

"It's fine," she said, waving it off. She took the paper he'd been drawing on from him, studying it for a while. Then she smiled at him. "Tell you what, you're in luck. The art teacher I had in the sketching or drawing department just got fired since none of his students appreciated his methods of teaching. I've had my secretary handle looking for a replacement. It's been a hassle, since classes were cut back. Why don't you come with me to the center sometime? I could introduce you to the students, and we'll see if you'd like teaching. Who knows? In a few months time, you'd probably have enough money to live out on your own or something. Would you like that?"

He nodded. "That would be great, thanks."

"Art Center aside..." Natasha looked at him sternly. "Why don't you tell me why you were inside that thing? I realized last night when I did some research that the faded sign behind the building door was of some group called HYDRA, led by some guy called Red Skull, who you supposedly defeated. You're supposed to be dead, or something; you crashed into the ice, after all."

Steve's features darkened. "How'd you know I defeated him? I thought you didn't know much about American history. Or history in general."

Natasha noticed he ignored her last statement, and almost frowned, but managed to cover it with a smirk. "I have friends who know."

He didn't answer. She sighed, and tried to get him to hold her gaze.

"You're Captain America." It was a statement. Not a question.

He didn't look at her eyes. "No."

She snorted. "You're a terrible liar."

He sighed, and looked up at her. "What do you think of me?"

She didn't expect that. "What?"

"I said-"

"I know what you said," she cut him off. She sighed, and hoped he'd see honesty in her eyes. "I won't claim to know you. I don't trust historical records all that much. But I'll tell you this: you're a hero, and you're in my home, however I won't tell you any shit about how awesome it is to have you here because that's just stupid." She brushed off the look he gave her at her use of language. "I don't have any thoughts about you, positive or negative. But, tell you what?"

He smiled slightly. Just a small tug at the corners of his lips, his blue eyes sparkling for a brief moment. She felt accomplished. "What?"

"Spend a day with me," she replied, and smirked when she saw his shocked face. "Then I'll tell you what I think of you."

"You know Ms. Romanoff," he began, playfullness sparkling in his blue eyes (since when did she notice his eyes were blue anyway?). "Men are supposed to ask women out."

"Times change, Rogers." She stood. "Now let's go."

"We're heading out right now?" he asked, confused. "But it's still six in the morning!"

"Well, yeah," she shrugged. "I want pancakes, but you finished all the sugar," - he blushed at that - "so let's go out to Pancake House. I think it opens at six."

He nodded. "Pancake House?" He immediately redeemed himself when Natasha sent him an exasperated look. "Okay. Nevermind. I guess I'll just have to figure ot out myself. Remind me to pay you back when I have enough money, though."

"No need," she said. "Everything I buy for you from now on until you can get by on your own is on the house."

He nodded, but she knew he'd still pay her back one day anyway. Call it intuition. Or the pancakes he'd left for her the night before. "Come on, we have a long day ahead of us. I'm going to introduce you to everything modern - which, by the way, you still have to tell me the real reason you aren't freaking out - and we're going to go shopping."

"Shopping?"

"Obviously, captain," she said, eyes twinkling. "You need clothes. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life wearing that?"

He looked down at himself. He was wearing a white undershirt tucked into the blue pants of his old uniform, held up by a belt. He blushed. "Oh yeah."

"Now come on."

...

Steve stood looking around at the men's clothing department. "Well, style hasn't changed much. There are still shirts and pants and stuff..." he trailed off, catching a glimpse of a flower power suit in the corner. "The design though..."

Natasha laughed. "Come on, Steve. Let's get you some real clothes before more people come in and stare."

"Stare?"

She snorted and dragged him off to the casual wear. "Yes, stare. It's not everyday you see a guy wearing only a sando and pants." She smirked up at him, eyes flashing with appreciation. "Especially a guy who's huge and full of muscle. You are seriously a man full of it..."

He blushed for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He'd learned earlier on that she was a tease, and she loved making him uncomfortable. He couldn't say he didn't like it though. Part of him found this side of her fun.

"Let's start with some t-shirts." Natasha hummed while thinking. "I think extra large would be safe. I don't want to waste time in the fitting room..."

She threw a couple of folded shirts at him without warning, which he wouldn't have been able to catch without his enhanced senses and reflexes. "Nice catch," she said, and continued throwing shirts at him. "Now come."

She led him over to the men's pants section of the store, where an attendant was happy to measure his waist. They got the appropriate size pants and, much to Steve's embarrassment, headed over to the underwear section. Natasha had taken all the clothes from him and instructed him to take his much needed underwear while she waited at the counter. Steve blushed, again. And he blushed even harder when he saw that the attendant there was a girl. He had trouble telling her his size...

Natasha burst out laughing when she saw him, face still beet red, walking over to the counter. She took the underwear from him and placed it on the counter (the girl behind it stared with a seductive glint in her eye) and he just blushed even harder. They eventually left the store and placed the bags in the trunk of her car before they headed back inside the mall to have lunch (Steve had already changed into a shirt and pants she'd bought for him in the car, earning Natasha another blush from the super soldier).

"So, how's your day so far?" Natasha teased as they waited for their food at the table (for two). Steve groaned.

"Why is every attendant at the men's department a woman?" he asked. Natasha laughed. Steve let out a soft chuckle, despite his embarrassment.

"I don't know," she answered with a nonchalant shrug. Their food arrived. She waited for him to take a bite. "How's the food?"

Steve looked down at his plate of macaroni and cheese. "It's good, actually." He paused for a moment, as if thinking. "We used to boil everything."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"So..." Natasha picked at her food. "Did Captain America have a love life?"

He stiffened and his face darkened. "No."

"Come on," Natasha insisted. He didn't answer. She huffed. "Nobody special though?"

He looked at her with a stern gaze. As much as she wanted to persist, she dropped the topic. "Okay, grumpy pants. So, what do you like to do for fun?"

He shrugged. "Draw?"

"Besides that."

He thought for a moment. "I'm not so sure. Before becoming a soldier, I didn't do much but draw."

"Okay."

He smiled softly at her. "So, what do you do? Do you just own the art center or what...?"

She chuckled. "I own it, but I also teach the advaced class for ballet."

His eyes shined with adoration. "A dancer, huh? That's great. So, what classes are there in your art center?"

"Just the ones I could find teachers for," Natasha said. "I'm hoping to expand it with the upcoming event I'm planning. Anyway, I've got Sam Wilson in aerial acrobatics, like the trapeze and aerial hoops. Then there's Jane Foster for painting, Bobbi Morse for sculpting. For music arts, there's Melinda May on piano, Betty Ross for violin and guitar, and Thor Odinson for winds. I'm hoping to add in ice skating soon."

"Wow," Steve praised. "It sounds like you all are busy people."

Natasha scoffed and rolled her eyes playfully. She was about to reply when her phone rang. Steve looked startled. "What on earth is that?" Steve asked when she pulled the device out of her purse.

"It's a phone. One of the new technologies nowadays," Natasha replied quickly. She answered the call. "Hello. Natasha Romanoff speaking."

Steve watched in facsination as his companion talked to someone through the device. He was impressed. He remembered how big and bulky telephones used to be. What Natasha was holding proved to be a smaller, but useful, version of that.

When the call ended, Steve immediately asked how it worked, explaining phones before were huge. Natasha only said, "I'll explain on the way. Is it alright if we meet up with my friends for a while? I'll introduce you."

Noticing his panicked look, Natasha reassured him. "I won't tell them about Captain America." She took his hand and led him out of the fast food restaurant and to the mall's parking lot. "I'm perfectly content with Steve Rogers."

At that, Steve smiled gratefully.