Thanks to everyone who read and goldenpuon, WolfishPennings, Minecraft Guardiansaiyan, Qweb, Ratiqu, 1983Sarah, and Book girl fan for reviewing.

Apologies for the slightly shorter chapter, but I've got another long flight coming up this weekend so I'll probably get more written then.

"Thank you again for your service, and please, enjoy your lunches."

A wave of applause followed Steve as he stepped away from the podium, and he let out a slow sigh of relief. It was done. And he hadn't tripped over his words too badly. He wished he'd done better—somehow impromptu battle speeches were far easier than formal speeches, and never mind that this formal speech damn well ought to count as impromptu since it had been less than a day since he'd agreed to give it—but…well, he could have done worse, too.

He was seated at one of the tables near the front, and he'd been through enough formal dinners on tour to know which utensils were which as servers began bringing out the meal. Fortunately that hadn't changed in the last sixty years. Conversation as everyone ate was pretty light…the four women seated at the table obviously knew each other and were catching up on events since they'd last been together, and although a few of their cadet escorts were giving him sideways looks, no one had much to say to directly to him aside from thank yous and congratulations for his speech and general pleasantries. Which was absolutely fine with him.

As they finished their lunches and servers began to clear away the dishes the keynote speaker got up and headed for the podium, and Steve nodded in thanks to the young man who took his plate and then turned to listen. This man was a World War II veteran as well, but he'd served in the Navy in the Pacific so Steve didn't recognize him. It was interesting to listen to him speak, though, both of the ladies' contributions to the war effort and of the work that had been done and the changes that they'd helped usher in since then. Several of them had had a lot to do with that Women's Rights movement he'd missed, and more than a few with the Civil Rights movement as well. Then came the other speakers and the awards, and when Tony finally got up to thank the attendees Steve was surprised to realize how much time had passed. Tony's speech was short, which was probably just as well, and he didn't say much besides adding his congratulations and thanking everyone for attending which Steve would have said was definitely just as well except that when Tony hadn't been trying to bait Steve he'd actually given some useful suggestions yesterday, and then Steve stood with the rest and moved out of the way as the women were escorted back to their limos. Well, in the general direction of the limos. There was a good amount of socializing going on, but that was understandable enough.

"Back to holding the wall up already?" a voice at his shoulder asked. "You know, I would swear that the architects who built this place were better than that. If not, I should really complain to someone."

Tony, and Steve shook his head and refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Wasn't there a pretty lady making eyes at you before the speech?" He turned and made an obvious show of surveying the room. "Now where did she go?"

"Tony." A pause. "And she was not 'making eyes' at me—" that term even he knew—"she works at a café I've been to a few times. She was probably just surprised to see me here."

"Well, if you weren't expecting to see her here, that's an excellent conversation opener, isn't? I'm sure she's still around here somewhere."

This time Steve did roll his eyes. "You know, I think I am going to mingle." Or at least go hold up a wall where Tony wasn't. "You aren't planning to leave until after everyone else does, right?" Not that he couldn't get back to Stark Tower himself, but he'd ridden here with Tony and didn't think walking the streets in his dress blues was the greatest idea. At least not if he didn't want to draw a lot of attention.

"Well, we'll probably beat the crew on cleanup out of here," Tony said with a nod, "but not by much. Geraldine will want to have a least a few words with me, and never mind that she was here the entire time and saw how things went for herself. And Pepper made sure my calendar was clear for the afternoon so there's no hurry. "

"Are company CEOs supposed to do that?"

"Well, her original job was as my assistant, and I've never been able to keep any other assistants so occasionally she still gets involved. Or enlists JARVIS. Can't imagine why she feels the need."

"Can't imagine," Steve echoed. "Please excuse me."

He didn't wait for Tony's reply before stepping out into the room. Of course, he didn't exactly have any destination in mind except 'away from Tony's needling,' but this was a large room and he set off for the other side. He couldn't move quickly, not through the crowd and not when people wanted to stop him and thank him for speaking, but even if it embarrassed him he knew how to be gracious. At least until he turned a little more quickly than he intended and nearly bowled over the waitress from the café. If Tony hadn't been teasing him earlier he probably wouldn't have thought anything about it—well, not beyond the apology that basic manners dictated, anyway—but as it was he had to fight to keep himself from flushing. "Sorry, ma'am."

She waved it off. "It's fine, no harm done. It's a little crowded right now. I…." Her face reddened slightly and then shook her head. "I, uh, apologize for staring earlier. I just didn't expect to see you here."

"It's okay. I didn't really expect to be here," he admitted. "My friend recruited me at the last minute. But you…?" She obviously wasn't working, but he found himself temporarily at a loss for a polite way to ask why she was at the ceremony.

"I'm my grandmother's escort," she said, answering his question before he found a way to finish the question. "She was one of the computers during the war. Dad was supposed to visit this weekend and come with her, but there was some emergency back home. Nothing too serious, but enough that he couldn't make it."

"Bethie? Who's this young man?" An older woman turned away from one of the small knots of ladies just behind the waitress—Steve had no idea what her last name was which made it difficult for him to properly refer to her— to join them, and then her eyes widened slightly. "Oh, I apologize, you spoke earlier. I should have recognized you, but I'm afraid my eyes just aren't what they used to be."

"Grandma, this is Captain Rogers," she said. "Captain, Nancy Thomas."

"I'm pleased to meet you, ma'am," Steve greeted. "Thank you for your service."

"Thank you for yours as well," she returned. "That was a lovey speech you gave."

"Thank you," he repeated.

She smiled and then turned to her granddaughter. "Beth, would you mind terribly if I abandoned you? Marjorie is only in town until the weekend and she and Carolyn and I were talking about going over to Carolyn's to continue our chat."

"Sure, Grandma, that's no problem. Do you have your keys?"

"Right here," Mrs. Thomas said, patting her purse. "I'll see you tonight."

A cadet who was clearly escorting one of the other women offered his free arm to her before Steve could offer, and she nodded to the young man slightly before turning back to look at Steve. "It was nice to meet you, Captain."

"You as well, ma'am."

"I should be going too, they'd probably like to get the room cleaned up," the waitress said. "But it was nice to see you again, Captain."

"Steve," Steve corrected again. "It was nice to see you again also, ma'am."

"If you're Steve, I'm Beth," she said. "Have a nice day."

"Captain Rogers, you have a telephone call," JARVIS said. "Shall I put it through?"

"Uh, yes, please," Steve said, looking up from a half-finished sketch of the keynote speaker from yesterday, confused for a moment. Who would be calling him—oh. Right. The job placement people. He set his sketchpad aside. "Hello?"

"Hello, I'm calling for a Mr. Rogers," a woman's voice said from JARVIS' speaker. "A Mr. Steve Rogers?"

"I'm Steve Rogers."

"You recently filled out an application for job placement with our agency, and I'm calling to report that we have an opportunity that matches your skills. I notice that you didn't give an email in your application. Do you have an email address where we can send the details?"

"I…."

"Your pardon, Captain Rogers," JARVIS said suddenly. "I've taken the liberty of putting the call on hold temporarily. If you would like, you may have an address through Stark Industries and I can have it set up to route to your computer. There is currently a woman in accounting using S. Rogers, however both Steve and Steven Rogers are free. Or you could choose an address that reflects your military background if you would prefer to remain more anonymous, although under the circumstances Rogers is a common enough surname that I wouldn't expect difficulty."

"Uh, Steve Rogers would be good," Steve agreed, although he wished he understood a little more about what he was agreeing to. Email had been mentioned a few times in the computer tutorials he'd done, but since he'd had no one to communicate like that with, it hadn't been a priority for him. It hadn't even occurred to him to fill out that line on the form—he'd given them a telephone number, hadn't he?

"Excellent," JARVIS said. "I suggest that you inform the young lady that your email address is Steve Rogers at Stark Industries."

"And she'll know what that means?"

"She will."

"Thanks, JARVIS."

"Not a problem. I will reconnect you now."

"Hello?" the woman's voice said a moment later, sounding slightly confused. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, ma'am, I apologize," Steve said quickly. "There were…technical difficulties. But I have an email address for you." He repeated the words that JARVIS had said to him, and if she sounded a little uncertain when she repeated it back, he got the impression that it was the Stark Industries part that was giving her difficulties, not the address itself.

"Thank you, Mr. Rogers," she said after he confirmed that her recitation was correct. "And please note that you have only twenty four hours to decide whether to accept the position or not. If we have not heard from you in that time either by phone or by email, we will assume that you are declining."

"Yes, ma'am, I understand."

"Thank you."

"Thank you," Steve echoed, and then he heard the line disconnect. "I wonder what kind of job they found for me?" It could be lifting more heavy boxes, he supposed, he was still doing that in the mornings, but he hoped not.

"You should be receiving the email shortly," JARVIS said. "As I said, it will be routed to the email client on your computer."

Steve nodded. "Thanks." But if JARVIS was sending it to his computer, he ought to be on his computer to receive it, and he headed for the small desk in the sitting area. As with the rest of the pictures—icons—on the desktop, the email client was clearly labeled, and he opened it quickly. And, as JARVIS had said, there was a message waiting for him. "Hm."

"May I enquire as to the job opportunity they've identified for you?" JARVIS asked.

"It says there's a temporary position for a data entry clerk at The Center for Community and Families." Steve frowned. "I'm not sure what that means." 'Data entry clerk' sounded a little like a fancy way to say typist to him, but surely they didn't still use typists in this day and age.

"The Center for Community and Families is a local nonprofit focusing primarily on low income and otherwise underserved areas of the city," JARVIS responded, "but 'data entry clerk' is rather nonspecific. Are you interested in this position?"

"Well, it's the first job they've found for me," Steve said after a moment. "And they seem to think my skills match. I guess I should give it a try." There was no reason not to, and anyway, it did say temporary so even if he didn't like it it wasn't as if he'd be stuck there. The icon near the top of the screen was labeled 'reply' and he tapped it.