After that fateful dance Rosie stayed for a few more songs, not leaving Steve's arms for any of them, although judging by the looks she was getting from some boys on the side of the floor she was probably meant to dance with more than one man at this shindig. Too bad, she had thought, as she looked at Steve who was concentrating far too hard on not stepping on any toes, this one's mine for tonight.

Steve walked her home, at his insistence, waving goodbye to Bucky who had been dancing circles around them all night with different dames. She stopped in front of the stoop, pulling out her key, and then paused to look at Steve.

"I had a really great night tonight Steve," She said softly. Steve's face glowed with an easy grin.

"Me too!" He spoke with such enthusiasm he even shocked himself, frowning slightly and shaking it off, rubbing the back of his neck and trying again. "I had a great time too Rosie, would 'ya still like to go see some of the city with me? I can come by here and get 'ya,"

"I'd love that Steve, pick me up at ten? It's Saturday so I have a free day, I'll be waiting, just bell for apartment four,"

"I'll be there with bells on, night Rosie,"

Rosie turned and unlocked the door, biting her lip in indecision for a second, knowing that this probably wasn't proper. She then shrugged to herself, straightened her back and turned around.

She saw Steve turned around, the edges of the grin on his face she could just about make out were adorable, and she couldn't help running down the few steps quickly, throwing her arms around his shoulders, pressing into the bridge of his shoulder blades and lying her chin on his shoulder. She stood a step up from him, giving her the high ground in their normally matched heights, and gently pressed a kiss to his smooth and cool cheek.

She saw some pink blossom there as she pulled away, giving his thin body another squeeze.

"Goodnight Steve," She spoke quietly into his ear, releasing him and running into the building, shutting the door before he even turned around.

She ran up into her apartment, sitting on the floor of the balcony and peeking between the railings to watch him as he walked away, a spring in his step and a slight pinkness still visible on his cheeks. When he got to the threshold of the park he jumped into the air and punched it, like a football player celebrating on the victory line.

She wandered back inside, slipping into her night clothes and bed with a smile on her face.

"I can't believe it Buck," Steve walked a few paces in front of Bucky, his hands linked behind his head, grinning. "She even kissed me! Kissed me! And invited me back here to pick her up tomorrow!"

"Sounds like my best friend's got himself a date, and something to be confident about huh?" Bucky teased, catching up and ruffling Steve's hair.

"Damn straight, need some help picking up girls Buck?" Steve asked with a quirk of his eyebrow, he rolled his eyes and pushed his hand away. "If she likes me it'll be a godsend, probably to make up for all the asthma,"

"Sure kid, sure," Bucky grinned, happy that for once his friend had some luck with the dames, and a cute one too. By the way she acted with him she definitely was into him, and she seemed just the same brand of weird as Steve when he got over his shyness.

As Steve crawled into bed that night, yelling goodnight to Bucky down the hall as he shut off the lights and stared at the ceiling he did so with a smile on his face.

"HEY STEVE, AIN'T 'YA GOT A DATE WITH THAT PRETTY DAME TODAY?" Steve woke up to the hollaring of Bucky, shocking him so badly he fell out of bed. He blinked briefly for a second, not remembering the last time he slept so well, then caught sight of the time, 9:55.

"FUCK," Steve yelled, his eyes wide. He jumped up and started running towards his closet, his foot caught in his bedsheets, tripping him up. He landed face first on the floor, the loud thud startling Bucky, who wandered to Steve's open door, bowl of cereal still in his hand, chewing as he watched.

"Well done, that there was a real tactical maneuver."

"Yeah yeah, I'm Bucky Barnes, I'm perfect, I never threw up on Nancy Drake's shoes and blamed it on the dog." Steve hissed as he untangled himself, grabbing a white shirt from the dresser and buttoning it up over a wife beater. He pulled on pants and clipped some suspenders to them, all while Bucky looked on in mock shock and incredulity.

"I'll have you know that that was all Mr Barkmisters fault, and also I was 12!"

"And I'd look great in a dress," Steve rolled his eyes, packing his sketchbook and some pencils into his satchel, swinging on his jacket and running for the door. "Bye!"

Bucky stared after him for a second, shrugging and walking into Steve's room, picking up the shoes he left behind and then holding them out as Steve ran back in, pulled them on and made for the door again.

"Not, a. Word!" He said just as he slammed the door, running for the apartment he had been at the previous night. He checked his watch as he ran, he was already five minutes late. Not the greatest start.

By the time Steve skidded to a halt in front of Rosie's apartment building he was breathing heavily, he took the stairs up to apartment four and knocked, then doubled over as he wheezed.

"Hey Steve ready to get-" Rosie opened her door, already sleeping in her shoes and holding her backpack, when she caught sight of Steve bent in half. "Steve! Are you ok?"

"I'- I'm F-fine, It's just a- just a asthma attack," He managed to force out, trying to stand up straight to open his lungs like the doctor had suggested, and also stop himself looking more pathetic than he was sure he already did with his hair a mess, wheezing all over her doorstep.

"Steve! Come in! Sit down! Sit! Sit! Do you have an inhaler? Medicine?" Rosie's eyes went wide and she grabbed his arm, hauling him up and dragging him to the living room which was very sparse, and currently had her bed in it. She sat him down on the neatly made covers and he was in no state to either protest or get flustered in the fact he was sat on a girls bed for the first time since he and Bucky had busted into his older sisters bedroom when they were seven.

"In- My bag?" Steve said, putting his head between his hands.

"I can't see it," Rosie said, pulling his bag onto her lap from her spot on the floor. She sat on her knees, one hand on his knee like to assure herself he was still there and one rifling through his satchel. "Where is it! Where? Aha!"

She pulled out the busted old thing and shook it frantically, holding it up to Steve, who grabbed it and quickly inhaled, taking two puffs and then breathing out. His breath eased for the first time since stepping into the apartment and his face twisted in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry for being late, I- I overslept," Steve admitted shamefully, avoiding the inquisitive blue eyes of the girl at his feet, who was wearing a particularly beautiful china patterned sundress and cardigan, her red lips parted in shock. She looked like she belonged in the pages of one of Bucky's pin up calendars, not handing a schmuck like him his inhaler.

"Late? It's like ten past!" Rosie exclaimed, making Steve flinch and wince.

"I know, I'm real sorry, my Ma always said to turn up ten minutes early with a bunch of flower- I didn't even bring flowers," Steve interrupted himself and then groaned, throwing himself backwards onto the bed, covering his face with his hands before realising were he was and sitting up.

"Flowers? Steve, I just asked you to show me around, you don't need to get me flowers! And you were ten minutes late! That's rarely late! If you hadn't shown up late I wouldn't have had time to panic change twice! I probably shouldn't have admitted to that. What you should apologise for is making me think I was gonna have to haul your dead body to the coroners office!"

"At least I'd be light," Steve joked wryly.

"Steve I swear to god, I'd kill you myself if I wasn't so relieved you're not dead." Rosie stood to her feet and walked to her little kitchen, Steve heard her bustle about for a minute before walking back to him with a teacup in her hands, gently passing it to him and sitting next to him.

"What's this?" He asked, looking curiously at the cup. It wasn't coffee, or traditional english tea.

"A little herbal tea, spiced apple and cinnamon with some honey, you need to calm down and I need something to keep me busy. Also MY mother would have never have let me get away with inviting someone into my house without offering them a cup of tea. Even if I didn't offer so much as make you have one." Rosie looked at Steve who was looking at her with a small smile, and grinned at him, reaching up and toying with a piece of his hair, tucking it into place, as much as she could with his mop.

"Ah, I didn't get time to brush my hair or anything, I didn't-"

"Wanna be late?" Rosie giggled and bit her lip. Steve looked down and took a sip of the tea, which he surprisingly enjoyed.

"Something like that yeah, this is good by the way, thank you."

"Thank you for not dying,"

"I thought I'd save that for the second date," Steve joked, then paled. "Not that this is a date, sorry, just-"

"Steve!" Rosie interrupted, grabbing the hands he was holding the cup with in the both of hers, giggling and pulling the cup to his lips again, to force him to take a break from freking himself out. "It's ok! Take a break for a sec will ya? And anyway, you're sat on my bed right now, you should be embarrassed 'about that before anything else,"

"Rosie-" Steve groaned, turning pink and shooting the rest of the drink back, standing up and walking back into the kitchen, washing up the cup and gently setting it on the draining board to calm himself down.

"I was only kidding love," She called, making him almost drop the teacup, turning round to where her voice had come from, thankful she wasn't watching. "Ready to go?"

She stood at the doorway to the kitchen, framed in a beautiful light. Steve smiled, his hand tightening on the trap of his satchel.

"Yes I am!"

The pair of them spent the day walking from her apartment all around the city. They drew birds and trees, buildings and people, over lunch in Steve's favorite deli (He insisted on paying despite not having much money at the moment. Rosie made him let her buy the drinks as payment for the 'free tour' as she called it) they even drew each other.

The Steve that peered from Rosie's sketchbook was artfully done. A couple of lines were wrong, she ended up doing about three studies next to it to get his eyes right (She informed him he had 'angry eyebrows but kind eyes' and it was throwing her off. Steve liked it. The self portraits he had done always had the slight mark of a wistful wish fulfillment to them. He wanted to change things with every line he put down, he looked at his skinny face on his own page and felt like he was looking at a grey sky. Nothing was wrong with it, gotta have a little rain, but it sure wasn't anyone's first choice for a picnic. Rosie drew him like he was part of the furniture, every part of him except his eyes. She took it all at face value, not looking at things that could change, just observing and marking down. His eyes had a lot more to them, they could see every thought he was thinking in them. He recognised himself from those eyes more than he would ever recognise the surprisingly accurate face. He did notice however she wistfully outlined his lips a couple more times than necessary.

"Let me see yours, please Steve?" Rosie asked, and while Steve had originally planned on keeping her to himself (He considered himself a hobbiest at best, he wasn't sure showing his work to a professional was something he could manage) but as soon as she asked he couldn't think of denying her.

He passed the battered book over to her, and she took it gently. Like how he cupped her hip as they danced she held the book like a resting butterfly, her body hunching over protective over it.

"Steve, this is beautiful," She said frankly, looking at the sketch he had done with a smile. "And i'm not just saying that because you definitely picked a flattering angle,"

"It's nothing on yours, 'cept the subject matter of course," Steve denied, but felt a flush of pride nonetheless.

"You have real talent, have you ever painted?" She asked, handing the sketchbook back.

"Never tried it, only ever used pencils really," Steve admitted somewhat bashfully. While he had wanted to be an artist for a while he never had enough spare cash to afford art supplies to try anything other than pencil.

"Then I'll have to show you," Rosie crowed, immediately spouting information about the paints she used and how she planned on taking a research trip for the first zoo boards in a couple days and wouldn't Steve come with her? He listened in rapt attention for the rest of the afternoon as they whiled away the hours sketching and chatting, agreeing to accompany her and paint with her, and also somehow promising that he'd get Bucky and himself to help her sort out her new apartment. He wasn't sure why he started to promise all this, but the way it made her smile made his heart flutter every time and he just couldn't help himself.

"That's my phone number," Rosie said as she leaned away. She had started scribbling in the top corner of his sketchbook when he put it down, flipping to the page with her portrait. "I put it on the page with me so you wouldn't get it lost with all the other girls number's I'm sure you have floating around,"

"Yeah that would have been a real shame," Steve chuckled, reading the sweet note and signed scribble of her name with a smile. Her handwriting would make the teachers at his old school cry, it was beautiful, it looked like it belonged in the journals of Leanardo Da Vinci, but it was almost completely unreadable. If he hadn't have known her name was Rosie he probably would have thought she'd written in code.

Steve walked her back to her apartment, and strolled home in a much more calm way then he had that morning. Absolutely satisfied with the best Saturday he could remember in a while.

Another chapter! Let me know what you think guys, seriously, I'm refreshing the comments section hourly.