The brass bell that hung over the door rang out letting the owner know she had a customer. Peering up from the mountain of books she was sifting through at the back of the shop Verity Clements saw a set of brown leather-clad broad shoulders disappear behind the table of old clocks.

"Good morning! Let me know if I can be of any help!" She shouted out and waited until she heard a reply.

"Thank you!" Looking back down at the old volumes in front of her Verity started stacking them up into two piles, the needle on the old record player nearby fell off the vinyl and started to scratch against the side. Wiping her hands and making her way over she absentmindedly peered around for her customer who seemed to have disappeared. Her fingers delicately flicked through the records that sat beside the player until she found the one she was looking for, slipping it out of its sleeve and pursing her lips Verity blew any dust away before setting it on the player. Carefully placing the needle on the vinyl she smiled when she heard the first song, saxophones, trumpets and drums came together and Verity couldn't help but ever so slightly sway her hips to the beat. Going back to the books and taking a sip of her now cold tea she set her cup back down and picked up one lot of the books, making her way between the display cabinets and other oddities that filled the antiques shop Verity one by one started to sit them on a high shelf of an old cabinet. As she placed the second to last book on the shelf the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and feeling like she was being watched Verity craned her neck to see round the collection of old walking sticks and umbrellas, still not seeing her elusive customer she quickly planted the remaining book on the shelf and started making her way round the shop. It wasn't unusual for people to come in and get lost in the maze of furniture and old display cabinets, she would turn a corner and find a young couple trying on the Top Hats she'd just acquired or an older couple reminiscing about a plate pattern they'd bought themselves years ago. Finally she spotted him stood gazing into a large glass cabinet full of watches and jewellery.

"Hello there," she called out to him and smiled when he turned to her.

"Hi," he replied and Verity was struck at the kindness in his face. Walking over she stood slightly away and pointed to the cabinet.

"There's some gorgeous pieces in there," she told him. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" Watching him keenly she noticed his eyes dance from the cabinet to her and then back again.

"No, I'm just looking." He told her, "I didn't even know this place existed?!" he lied and Verity laughed at his expression.

"We're tucked away aren't we?" she agreed. "Well, my names Verity. Please feel free to take your time and have a good look around." Stepping away she stopped and hiked her thumb behind her. "And again, let me know if I can help in any way. I'll be over by the books!" Verity felt herself blush as the man gave her a warm smile and thanked her.

"Oh, excuse me ma'am?" Verity turned on her heel and looked at him expectantly.

"Yes?!" she answered.

"The music? Did you…"

"Umhum! Tex Beneke and his orchestra," she answered his unasked question. "It's actually a live recording from nineteen forty six at the Hollywood Palladium. It's one of my favourites!" Verity listened to the music for a moment and when 'In the Mood' came on she couldn't help but grin. "Can you imagine what it must have been like? All that dancing?! Must have been fabulous." Realising she was bothering her customer Verity gave him an apologetic smile and scurried away quickly.

Steve had walked by the small antiques store every day for the past year, his eye was always caught by whatever was in the window. An old dresser, a vase, on one occasion there was a British Soldier's bearskin hat. The sign above was painted in large gold italics, J. S. Antiques. A handful of times he'd seen a woman leaning into one of the two display windows that sat either side of a bulky frosted glass door, or he'd see her sat on her legs in the window itself awkwardly trying to arrange a fan or a collection of crockery. She permanently wore a brown apron that she tied into a bow at the front and her matching brown hair was always twisted and held up by some exquisite pin or comb.

He'd see her cleaning the windows or sipping from a dainty cup and saucer as she seemingly sat and pondered how to arrange a selection of postcards, on one occasion he'd been caught off guard by her tacking a notice up on the window and as their eyes briefly met and she had given him a small smile he'd felt what could only be described as butterflies in his stomach. She seemed to wear a different coloured dress every day, his favourite being the periwinkle blue. He'd once walked past as she was helping a customer carry out a large ornate lamp stand to their car, her voice reminded him of an old English teacher he'd had at school. Miss Plummer had been sweet and patient and had let him help her in the classroom when all the other kids played outside. Looking back she must have done it to keep him from getting beat up by the bigger kids but at the time she'd told him he was the most helpful pupil she'd ever taught and that one day he'd grow up to be a very important person.

He'd heard the easy way she laughed when she banged her head against the trunk of the car and rubbing it comically waved off her customer before wiping her hands on her apron and walking back into the shop, letting out a contented sigh.

In the winter she hung a large wreath on the door and in the summer she'd always make sure there was a bowl of water for passing, thirsty dogs. One day a sandwich board appeared on the sidewalk and in scrolling chalk calligraphy messages would be left to passer-by's.

'Raining? Come in and have a browse!'

'Whoever said Disney was the happiest place on earth has never been in here!'

'Please come in, free cake!'

Steve was fascinated.

So one day, for a reason unknown to even Steve himself as he walked by he'd abruptly stopped, turned around and walked into the shop. Seeing the young woman stood in the back he'd shot round a corner and out of sight in panic not having planned to a, go in and b, now possibly talk to her.

"Good morning, let me know if I can be of any help!" He heard her shout out.

"Thank you!" He finally managed to reply and scrunched up his face in disappointment at himself for such a lacklustre response. Peering round a table of old clocks he watched as the woman he'd seen in the window so many times over the past year stacked books into two piles. Her capped sleeved summer yellow dress was cinched in by the habitual brown apron she wore and the skirt fluttered around her legs as she walked over to an old record player. Steve turned away, suddenly aware he was watching this woman, a complete stranger without her knowledge. As he began to look around the shop he heard the first song begin to play. Saxophones, trumpets and drums filled the shop and Steve felt like he'd travelled back in time. An assortment of memories and nostalgic notions filled his head, even the smell of the place took him back to another life. Taking his time he actually found himself enjoying looking at all the old bric-a-brac and ornaments. He'd unintentionally made his way back to where the woman was still stacking books, standing on her tip toes Steve pressed his lips together in contemplation but bolted when he noticed her stop what she was doing suddenly and begin to turn towards him. Seeing a big glass cabinet he planted himself in front of it.

"Hello there," he heard her say a moment later. Steve turned round and saw that she was standing behind him, smiling cordially and looking at him expectantly. Her sky blue eyes sparkled and a smudge of dust sat on her cheek.

"Hi," he replied as she walked to stand next to him and point to the cabinet he had been pretending to look in.

"There's some gorgeous pieces in there," she told him. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" Steve shook his head and folded his arms across his chest nervously.

"No, I'm just looking." He said and then blurted out, "I didn't even know this place existed?!" Feeling awful for lying Steve plastered on a smile and hoped she wouldn't pick up on his uneasiness.

"We're tucked away aren't we?" she exclaimed and Steve found himself relaxing. "Well, my names Verity." She told him as she brought up a delicately manicured hand to her chest, "Please feel free to take your time and have a good look around." Steve liked her instantly, he watched her slim wrists as she introduced herself and felt disappointed when she started to move away.

"Thank you," he told her ardently and was pleasantly surprised when he saw that she blushed at his words. It seemed to be her turn to appear nervous because as Steve continued to smile at her Verity wrung her hands together.

"And again, let me know if I can help in any way. I'll be over by the books!" Spinning on her heel Steve took a step forward.

"Oh, excuse me ma'am?" he called out after her.

"Yes?!" she answered turning back to him quickly.

"The music? Did you…" he started to ask her.

"Tex Beneke and his orchestra," Steve recognised the name instantly. "It's actually a live recording from nineteen forty six at the Hollywood Palladium. It's one of my favourites!" He could see the enthusiasm on her face and then as they both listened and 'In the Mood' came on Steve grinned along with Verity. "Can you imagine what it must have been like? All that dancing?! Must have been fabulous." Steve was about to reply but he watched as Verity scrunched up her face and scurried away quickly. Creasing his brow in confusion he already missed speaking with her, looking around himself he made a promise to ask her out before he left.

The sound of 'Moonlight Serenade' trickled out of the record speaker and Verity found herself stopping in her tracks and closing her eyes, letting the melody pour over her like caramel.

"That's one of my favourites," Steve commented and cringed when he watched Verity jump at the sound of his voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He apologised as he made his way towards her.

"Don't worry," Verity told him hoping she wasn't a lustrous shade of pink. "I'm used to being on my own in here, surrounded by this stuff!" Steve laughed at the comical face she pulled and cleared his throat.

"There's some pictures back there, in an album behind the coat stand? I was wondering if I could have a look?" he asked her hesitantly. Verity grinned, happy that he was staying and she could talk to him some more. He was very handsome and something about his demeanour made her want to do nothing more but talk to him for as long as possible.

"Of course!" she answered rather excitedly. "Please, follow me." Walking by him she realised he was quite tall and the top of her head came to his shoulders. He also smelled great! Steve followed after her and watched as she expertly weaved in and out of the all the antiques to exactly where he'd seen the photo albums.

"Is this your shop?" he found himself asking. Verity turned to him and nodded.

"Yes, it's been here for decades and I took over when the old owner passed away." She told him as she came to stand in front of the coat stand and peer up at the photo albums in question. "Mister Suchorzewski never had any family so…" Moving the coat stand to one side Verity brought herself up onto her tiptoes once more and reached for the top album.

"Can I help?" Steve asked as he watched her struggle. Laughing Verity set herself back down and rested her hands on her hips, looking around she spotted what she was looking for.

"It's alright, I have a stool here." Verity grabbed the stool and placed it in front of the shelves. As she stepped up Steve instinctively put his hands out, hovering a little away from her waist as she reached for the album. Heaving it off the shelf she saw that Steve was standing close by. "Do you mind?" she asked as she held the album in front of her.

"No, of course not." Steve took hold of the album effortlessly.

"Be careful, it's quite heavy." Verity told him as she hopped off the stool and Steve realised nobody had said that to him for a very long time.

"I will," he answered before Verity took back the album and told him to follow her. Making their way back to the counter Verity set the album down and pulled a nearby lamp closer, flicking it on she opened the large folder to the first page, carefully peeling back the layer of tissue paper covering the first set of pictures. Steve leant forwards to look at the photos, they were obviously old, black and white and depicting people and places he didn't know.

"I haven't looked at these for a very long time," she told him. "I bought them from an estate sale, they'd been in the same family for years. This album starts around the beginning of the US' involvement in the Second World War, see that young man there? He's called Jonathan Abbott, he was one of three brothers that served." Steve looked down at the three young faces of the men staring back, he had known man like them, and he had been one of those men himself.

"How do you know?" he asked pointing to the man.

"I always try to do some research on the pieces I acquire, you find people buy the story and history of a piece sometimes more than the actual piece itself."

"They look young," he commented absentmindedly and Verity hummed in response.

"I think one of them was a photographer because the other album is full of photos of his regiment and where I think he served?" Flipping the page Verity chanced a look at her customer who was stood beside her, he was looking at the pictures with a look of melancholy.

"Can I have look at those?" Steve asked tentatively, looking up and seeing that Verity was already looking at him. "The other album?" he clarified as he cleared his throat.

"Of course, give me a minute." As Verity made her way back for the other folder she heard Steve call out after her.

"I'm not holding you up am I?" Verity looked around the shop and raised her eyebrows at him comically.

"I've got all the time in the world Sir…" she said laughing.

"Steve," he told her and watched as she lost her smile for a second and then nodding slowly backed away from him.

"Steve," she repeated with a smile. Steve continued to look at the album whilst Verity was fetching the other one. So many memories flooded back as he took in the faces of the young men and women in the photos. When he'd walked through the shop door that day he hadn't expected to end up reminiscing about all that he had been through and witnessed. A pretty face had tempted him in but now after speaking with her Steve thought she was one of the kindest people he'd ever met. Yes, it was true that he knew very little about her, nothing in fact but the way she smiled at him made him feel safe and secure. Who was this woman who owned a small antiques store hidden away in the city?

Both Steve and Verity had lost track of time as they had looked through the first photo album, each one had commented on the faces and locations and both had marvelled at how much had seemingly changed and stayed the same.

"How long have you owned the shop?" Steve asked her as she closed the first book and pulled the second in front of them.

"Oh it'll be a few years now, I worked for Mister Suchorzewski part time for a year before that whilst I worked at the museum."

"You like antiques then?" Steve laughed and Verity blushed.

"Yes, I suppose so." She replied quietly. "You seem to know a lot about this era? Are you a teacher?" Steve shook his head.

"No, just a hobby." Verity opened the second album and lifted the tissue paper from the first picture. It was a group shot of a regiment and as Verity took in all the faces Steve averted his gaze, his mind filled with memories he hadn't recalled for a very long time.

"So, what do you do Steve…?" As Verity looked up at Steve the bell hanging over the front door rang out, looking behind her Verity gave Steve an apologetic smile. "Pardon me, I'll be back in a minute." As she went off to serve the other customer Steve continued to look through the album and it only felt like a moment later that Verity returned with two cups of tea.

"Thank you," Steve said as he took the floral patterned cup and saucer from Verity's hand. "This is very kind," he sold her sincerely and smirked when she waved a hand at him dismissively. Her found Verity to be very modest and understated, qualities he admired given the usual characters he hung out with.

"You're welcome, I popped a little lemon melt on the saucer." she replied giving him a conspiratorial wink. "So, where did you get up to?" she asked looking down at the album.

"These are great photos," Steve commented as Verity took a sip of tea and nodded in agreement.

"Aren't they? I love hidden treasures like these, all of this furniture, all of these things have played a part in someone's life. A cherished heirloom, a clock that told someone to go to work every day of their life and photos of people long since gone. It all holds so much history and it always makes me happy to see them go to good homes where they'll be cherished and hopefully passed down for generations to come." Verity realised she'd just given quite a speech and blushed with embarrassment. "Well, something like that anyway!" she added as she nervously laughed and took a big gulp of her tea.

"Can I take you out Verity?" Steve blurted and Verity just stared at him speechless.

"Umm? Yes?" she replied and Steve creased his brow in confusion, his heart was beating out of his chest.

"Was that a question?" he asked and Verity shook her head strongly.

"No! It was a yes yes," she confirmed and Steve grinned at her still 'deer in headlights' expression.

"Friday night?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered still nodding her head.

"Seven o'clock?"

"Yes," Steve laughed again.

"You're a difficult woman to please Verity…!" he joked and Verity laughed back.

"Clements," she told him.

"Clements," Steve replied. "Well Miss Clements, shall I pick you up here?"

"Yes that's fine, where are we going?" Steve was surprised by her direct question but then smiled a knowing smile.

"How about we go dancing?" Steve asked as he pointed in the general direction of the record player. The air in Verity's lungs disappeared and she found she couldn't speak. "Verity?" Steve said concerned. "Do you know how to dance? We could just go for a coffee…" he asked, suddenly aware that what people did on dates now was far different to what he remembered.

"Yes, no, dancing! That sounds wonderful," she finally managed to tell him. Her eyes strayed to the two photo albums and then back to Steve. "Let me go wrap these up for you," she told him. "On me," she clarified.

"Oh no, that's fine. How much are they? Let me pay," Steve followed her as she walked to the till and set the albums down.

"Don't be silly, please let me give them to you. You've kept me company this afternoon and asked me dancing, believe me, you are not paying for these!" she told him with eyebrows raised. "Consider them a gift," Steve reluctantly nodded as he watched her wrap up the first album in tissue paper and then place it in a large paper bag. The needle on the record player slipped off the vinyl and Steve offered to replace the record. "Yes please, thank you. I'll have the other wrapped up by the time you get back!"

Verity watched after him until he turned the corner and was out of sight. Pulling the next album in front of her she absentmindedly lifted the tissue paper covering the large photo underneath. It was of a large battalion of soldiers all standing tall and looking proud, in the middle stood Captain America.

"Oh my god," Verity clapped a hand over her mouth and gawked at the picture in front of her. "It can't be?!" she whispered to herself as she anxiously looked around to see if Steve was making his way back. Hearing the first song start snapped her back to reality and just in that moment Steve reappeared.

"Do you like the song choice?" he asked smiling easily and coming to stand in front of her. Verity looked at him as if he had grown another head and Steve laughed nervously. "If it isn't I can always change it?" he asked perplexed.

"No!" Verity all but shouted at him. "It's great! Perfect!" shaking her head she tried to remember what she had been doing. "Sorry," she found herself apologising but Steve just chuckled and wondered what had happened to make her so skittish. Looking down at the still unwrapped album he asked if there was a problem. "NO!" Verity barked as she slammed the album shut and began hastily wrapping the thing in tissue paper.

"You sure?" Steve asked and Verity stopped what she was doing and took a deep breath before looking at him.

"Yes Steve, everything's perfect."