A/N: I am so sorry for such a late update and will try my hardest to have the next chapter up by this next weekend. Thank you minx, Cotton Blossom Diva, nightmarehunter676, and angpao for leaving reviews. I really appreciate it! Nightmarehunter676, I definitely agree that older Howard is a jerk compared to the younger version. Cotton Blossom Diva, all those questions will be answered as the story goes on! I'm really happy you enjoyed the story so far. It's so hard to choose between Captain and the Sergeant, but I guess we'll see how things go when the story progresses. Whether she's friends or romantically involved things will get crazy when she and Tony find out what really happened to their parents, so that will be fun. I've been thinking about another story in the works with another minority OC (truth be told, all the OCs in my stories are black lol) but I'll let you know when that happens!

I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

"Wow, this is some fantastic steak. Slightly more on the well done side, but now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not exactly keen on getting sick," Semira muttered, remembering the lack of sanitation in this era. Knife and fork in hand, the young woman cut into the large sirloin that covered the plate just moments earlier, and placed it in her mouth.

She continued to chew on the piece of meat when she decided to look up, only to see Steve Rogers staring at her. He quickly looked away from her, but the intensity of his stare was enough to quickly revert her gaze back to the portion of food on her lap. She hasn't been able to detect what was going on in that head of his, and it irked her.

The others, her father included, left the tent to God knows where, most likely to deliberate on what they should do with her, leaving the Captain to babysit her for the time being.

Fortunately for her, the grouch of a colonel decided to stick to his word about her meal and drink.

Unfortunately for her, it was just the her and Captain America, plus the unconscious man on the other side of her.

And they happened to be playing the most frustrating game of hide and seek for the past half hour. Every time she snuck a glance at him, she'd quickly look away since the man was watching her with this intense gaze and a furrowed brow. Then the man would realize that he was staring and quickly avert his gaze only to look back at her when she wasn't looking.

She had enough.

"Do you want some?" she asked, causing his eyes to widen slightly when she acknowledged him. She had been talking to him, or more likely herself since he had yet to respond to her, ever since the A-team left. Embarrassment was an emotion that hardly ever struck the young woman but the fact that Captain America was blatantly staring then averting his gaze once he was caught, and not a word exiting his mouth was something else entirely. He even avoided eye contact with her until the moment she put the piece of steak into her mouth. "It tastes pretty good."

She slowly shifted the tray closer to him as if he were a wild animal she was trying to feed, only for him to shake his head vigorously and chuckle rather nervously.

"That's quite alright, ma'am," he said, blue eyes shifting to the man on the cot. Semira stared at him, mind shuffling through reasons as to why he would be behaving in such an odd manner around her when it suddenly hit her.

She was in the forties and that meant racism was rampant in this era. Not a new issue to her since even back in her time it was still prevalent, but at least then there was some progress. Here, the problem hadn't even been remotely tackled like it would be in several decades.

Putting another neatly cut piece of steak in her mouth, she looked back up at the man to find him staring once again. This time around she didn't hesitate to stare right back at him, silently chewing on the piece of steak. That was how she ended up in a brief staring match with Captain America, the golden boy of the United States of America.

Too bad it didn't last for more than five seconds.

"Um, ma'am, is everything –"

"Are you uneasy with me because I'm black?" she interrupted him. She knew it was rude, especially when he continued to respectfully address her as ma'am, but she couldn't help herself. Tony practically engrained an unapologetic attitude within her when it came matters like this or any matter to be quite frank. She had a feeling the Captain was nothing but a gentleman toward anyone no matter their background, remembering when he stood up for her to the old grouch of a colonel, but she needed assurance.

And with the confused look on the good old Cap's face, Semira didn't hesitate to elaborate further.

"Negro, colored... I don't know exactly what the hell I'd be described as in this era."

She saw the features of his face harden by the time she finished her brief explanation, shaking his head in retaliation.

"I don't view you any less than myself, ma'am," he said adamantly, laying his hand atop her shoulder. "And if eating some of your food will assure you then I'll do it, but I thought it would be better for you to finish your meal."

The corners of Semira's lips stretched upward into a small smile while she glancing down at the large hand on her sore shoulder. She had met many people so far in her life and had never come across a stranger that was so genuine as the man before her. Not many young men in any day or age would have expressed such honesty so openly and vehemently.

No wonder her father bothered Tony so much about how great Steve Rogers was. From what she could make of the Captain so far, the man was practically perfect.

"You don't have to touch me to prove you're not racist," she told him, a playful tone woven in her words. She wasn't sure if Steve knew she was joking though as she witnessed a pink tinge on his cheeks.

"I – I didn't mean – I am so sorry, ma'am, I – "

"I'm just teasing you," she said, interrupting the flustered man's apology. "Call me Semira, Captain."

The smile on her face grew as she glanced at him, tilting her head as she considered the man's strange behavior from moments ago to now. The oddities were now so painstakingly obvious.

His silence when she was talking to him, the way he constantly stared but turned away, his face flushed just by something she said, and the incessant stammering.

She would have never guessed Captain America to be so…. awkward.

It was actually endearing with his bright blue eyes widening slightly and the blush that crept along his face.

"You can call me Steve," he said, voice low as he made eye contact with her once again. The relief on his face was evident, no matter the pink hue that continued to spread across his skin.

First name basis with Captain America.

Who would've thought?

"Okay, Steve. Do you mind telling me where we are and what day it is?"

That was a question she wanted answered since she landed in Schmidt's lab. From the moment she stepped foot in this decade, she had been knocked unconscious with no clue of the date and how long she's been here.

"It's November fourth and we're in Italy, ma'a – Semira," he replied, making sure to correct his mistake.

"Year?"

The look he sent her made her think twice in asking that question, noticing the slight suspicion entering his eyes. There was no doubt that the Captain had his doubts about her, but she was sure that he wouldn't be able to guess where exactly she came from. Time travel wasn't exactly deemed possible.

Until now.

"Nineteen forty-three."

She knew she was in the forties, but to hear it being said aloud... The finality in his tone that made her twitch slightly. It made her want to crawl under the terrifyingly itchy sheet and wake up from this nightmare.

To wake up in her penthouse, give her brother – who would be healthy and dandy – a call, and laugh it off.

But that wouldn't be happening any time soon. Not when she had no clue how to get back to her time. There was no time machine built that brought her here.

Actually, she had no idea what exactly brought her to 1943 now that she thought about it.

Her mind automatically replayed the scene in her head before she found herself in the lab full of Nazis. She recalled how quickly her legs carried her towards her car inside the dim private parking garage, phone pressed to her ear while calling Rhodey. She remembered how much Tony was on her mind when she suddenly felt herself falling as if a hole suddenly opened beneath her.

But that was it.

Her memory was failing her on how exactly she got to Schmidt's lab.

The only people who might have a clue as to how she came here was Schmidt. He and his men were there when she initially came to this time. They must have seen what brought her to this decade.

"Ma – Semira?"

She jumped slightly at her name, nearly forgetting that Steve was sitting beside her. Her gaze focused back on the man to find his concern and curiosity in his eyes.

He wanted to ask her something.

The young woman raised her eyebrows expectantly for his question, noticing his eyes were focused on the side of her face.

"You were bleeding on your right temple just hours ago. The cut was deep when Bucky accidentally fell on you, and now it's completely healed," he said quietly.

Semira felt her jaw drop slightly, while she unconsciously raised her hand to touch her head. The small ridges of dried blood were hardened to the touch, but she couldn't feel torn flesh, proving the man's words right.

She didn't know whether to be more shocked at what the Steve was insinuating, or the fact that the handsome dark haired man's name sounded so ridiculous.

"That's physically impossible," she said, remembering the time she fell as a kid and broke her arm during her gymnastics days. The clean fracture had healed weeks before it should have, something that she never cared to investigate. Thankfully Tony was only astonished, curious at first but concluded that as a child who was growing, it wasn't surprising how fast she could heal.

But that didn't explain how a deep cut healed in the span of hours with no scab in sight.

"Schmidt said that you're a god among men," he mentioned, his voice barely above a whisper. "I – Why woul – Do you know what he meant?"

Now that won the jaw dropping contest as she stared at the dirty blond. How couldn't she, when he blatantly said that the Red Skull called her a god. Her mind reeling at the thought, Semira shook her head, knowing exactly what she needed.

Before the super soldier could say anymore, she raised her hand to stop him from talking any further.

"Now would be a great time to crack this open," she said, setting her tray to the small fold-able table and reaching for the bottle of vodka. The pungent odor of alcohol reached her nose as she twisted the cap open, tilting the contents of the bottle into her mouth. The smooth liquid moving down her throat was one of familiar comfort to her, the burning sensation occurring with every gulp she took. It wasn't something she would typically do unless she were having a rough day or really trying to start the party, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And this was definitely a desperate time.

She was stuck in 1943 with nothing more than her cell phone, which was currently in the position of the younger version of her father, who was in his twenties and had no idea of their relation. Johann Schmidt had drugged her and she managed to escape, only for her to be knocked out by some stranger named Bucky. And here was Captain America telling her that a deep wound of hers was healed in an incredibly short time span.

Oh and let's not forget that a Nazi called her a god among men.

The liquid contents were more than halfway gone by the time she pulled her lips away from the mouth of the bottle, instead staring forward as she sat up further on her cot. Her mind racing with multiple theories in her head as to how this all happened. How she truly ended up here. Was it due to Schmidt or herself? The man himself was surprised she was in the lab and then proceeded to drug her. Then there was the healing. She doubted that Steve was lying about that, remembering what happened with Bucky, and if she truly could heal so quickly, then….

She didn't know.

There was absolutely nothing that she could even deduce from. Not a damn –

Months ago, my men have unearthed a most spectacular discovery in the desert regions in Northern Africa. You are of African descent, no?

Johann Schmidt's voice reverberated in her head. He had said that to her before drugging her, the eagerness in his eyes were clear. Why would he bring that up and then tell Steve that she was a god?

"Semira?"

The concern was evident in Steve's voice, pulling her from within her mind and back to the real world. Blinking several times, Semira turned her head to the Captain only to find her head lolling to the side. She didn't know how long she was thinking but it must have been long enough for the effects of the alcohol to finally catch up with her.

Maybe drinking that much was a slight mistake since she was on to something at the moment, but she didn't mind. She had time to think about this tomorrow and she needed this feeling of freedom, or else a more neurotic behavior would take control. And that was never fun for her or other parties involved.

"I'm fine. Just processing…stuff," she said, tapping finger to her temple.

Yes, processing that a Nazi practically referred to her as a god was not something she ever expected in her lifetime. But there was something off about the whole ordeal. If he thought that about her, then his ideologies didn't align with Hitler. He believed in something else entirely. Something that was almost unbelievable. As unbelievable as time travel.

She needed to talk to Johann Schmidt.

As crazy as it sounded, the man knew something and she needed answers. His knowledge could be the key to getting back to her time, to her brother and her life.

"How did you learn English?"

Brown eyes locked onto blue at the abrupt question, before blinking several times. It took several seconds for her to understand what he was saying thanks to the strong vodka, but she guessed several seconds too late. Steve's face was turning an alarming shade of red, his face flushed from embarrassment.

"Ma – Semira, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just they're saying – well, you said you were from Egypt and I know English isn't the main language for natives," he said, finishing rather lamely. Semira missed the near slip of the tongue from Steve, though that could be because of the alcohol induced heat filling her body. It didn't take another second for her to rip off the itchy sheet from her body, revealing her athletic leggings and tennis shoes.

She was tired of sitting down for so long.

"Stop apologizing, it's annoying. And if you really want to know, I was adopted as a baby and my parents spoke English," she said, shifting her body where her legs now dangled from the side of the cot before pushing off to plant her feet on the floor.

Huge mistake.

Her legs collapsed beneath her, body lurching forward and straight to the floor. Only she didn't hit the floor but a wall of muscle, or more the wall of muscle caught her. She felt large hands steady her body before lifting her up, her world swaying side to side as her butt was planted on the cot once again.

"Thanks," she breathed out, looking up to see the Captain's face inches from her own. Ignoring the close proximity, Semira couldn't help the small smile on her face as she looked at the man. "You'd think I'd be able to walk after carrying a full grown man on my back."

"Am I interrupting?"

Her head turned as much as possibly to see the once unconscious dark haired man staring in their direction, an eyebrow raised and the upward tilt of the corner of his lip indicated the sly smirk on his face.

"Not at all. Steve's pretty shy, and I doubt we'd get further than a peck on the lips, if I don't fall asleep first," she remarked offhandedly. Her words weren't lost on Bucky as a variety of emotions were expressed on his face. He looked perplexed at first, mouth agape as he looked between her and Steve, only to start laughing.

Semira winked at the dark haired man before turning to face the Captain, whose eyes were wide. Scarlet tinged the super soldier's cheeks for what seemed like the fifty billionth time and she could practically feel the heat radiating from the man as he blushed deeply.

"It's just a joke," she said, patting his chest muscular reassuringly. She made to smile up at the man when her eyes suddenly landed on the small bright blue glow emitting from his pant pocket.

A familiar sensation swept over her body, small hairs standing on end. Steve and his friend flew from her mind as the pull towards the light was nearly irresistible.

She made to move his hands from her side when she suddenly heard a faint whisper.

She would have passed it off as a drunken stupor only if she was still intoxicated, but it felt as if all the alcohol from her body quickly metabolized leaving her as sober as the two men in the tent. And she was downright positive she heard a voice.

Semira didn't have to wait long to hear it again. The whisper was so quiet she could hardly make it out at first, but it was unmistakable.

"Awaken."