Sorry that took a while to update! Between Sandy and the recent snowstorm I haven't had power a lot. But, enough of my whining! Here it is! :) You can probably expect to see a new chapter by Saturday latest.

Tony could tell that something was weird from the way Bruce and Natasha walked in the lab. Bruce seemed wildly unfocused rather than kind of distracted, and Natasha looked like she could kill telepathically instead of with a look. He instructed JARVIS to turn down his music, and set down the faceplate he was repairing.

"Hit me with it," he said spinning his chair to face the approaching pair. Bruce pulled his glasses off and fiddled with them, clearly feeling uncomfortable. He glanced over at Natasha, but she seemed even more unwilling to speak,

"Um…" Bruce began slowly, "See…we…uh…well, we had been…noticing…that uh-"

"Whaaaaat?" Tony whined impatiently, "Dude, get to the point." Bruce scowled.

"Steve's been acting…strangely lately. He won't talk about it. He's changing all his routines without any obvious reason and he gets defensive when we ask about it. It's weird," Bruce finished with a shrug.

"Frankly, I'm worried about him," Natasha stated. Tony leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the lab table.

"And you absolutely hate when anyone has secrets of any kind from you," Bruce added impishly. Natasha opened her mouth to retaliate, but Tony cut her off.

"When you say strange…" the billionaire paused for a moment to choose the word he wanted, "Do you mean…happy? Like how he's always got that kind of stupid smile on? And he actually sleeps sometimes?"

"Well…" Bruce started cautiously.

"Yes," Natasha finished briskly. Tony raised his eyebrows and studied his friends.

"So he's finally gotten adjusted to modern times, recovered from some serious PTSD, finished mourning for everyone he ever knew, and…that's bad?"

"No, Tony," Natasha said, frustrated, "If that was it, I'd be overjoyed. I just think…if that was what happened, he wouldn't be sneaking around. He wouldn't act shady and weird any time we wonder where he went. He's doing something and I think we should find out what."

"It might be totally innocent," Bruce interjected, "Maybe he's taking a class or taking up drawing again. But either way, I'm worried about him, because it might be something else."

"What if he's getting help? Like, psychologically?" Tony wondered. Natasha shook her head.

"He wouldn't. Maybe he knows that he needs it, but he's got a stubborn streak a mile wide." Bruce nodded in acknowledgement. Tony scratched at his stubble as he thought.

"You're right," he finally conceded, "But we should find out covertly. I don't want him thinking that we don't trust him." The other two nodded their agreement and began to hash out plans.

…

Steve left the Tower at nine after a fairly awful night's sleep. Tina had been too busy with an art project yesterday to see him. Steve had come to the conclusion that days without Tina= nightmares and days including his petite art student = sleep. Heading towards the park by the river, he stopped by Tina's favorite coffee shop and bought her a 'frap'. He wasn't clear on all the different kinds of coffee, but he knew what she liked. Personally, he liked plain coffee with just a little sugar best. Not for the first time, he wished that that his metabolism could absorb the caffeine and make him feel less tired. As he walked up the winding path, he could make out the back of her head as she sat on the bench, sketching something. Her sunlight-colored hair fell in loose curls down her back, and her left foot was twitching the way it always seemed to when she was in deep concentration. Steve leaned on the back of the bench to see what she was drawing today. Tina jumped and pulled the sketchbook to her chest.

"Ah! Oh, jeez. Steve, you can't just creep up on me like that!" she swatted his arm playfully. Steve smiled at the easy banter they'd established.

"Good morning to you too," he said, taking a seat beside her. He watched her eyes alight on the coffee he held teasingly in front of her. She reached for it, but he held it back a few inches, gesturing towards the sketchbook. She sighed. "Really, Tina. We've done this every day for the last two weeks," Steve admonished with mock seriousness, "You get coffee and I get to see your drawings."

"Alright," she conceded, swiping the coffee away and dropping the book on Steve's lap. Steve grinned and sat back, flipping to the current page, where he looked at a series of drawings depicting a fish turning into a fishbowl. As always, he was amazed at both her creativity and astonishing skill.

"You know that this is amazing right?" Tina shook her head in denial.

"Steve, that's just a vague idea. I haven't even done the color yet."

"No, I'm not kidding. This is really great," the soldier insisted. Tina blushed and stole back the sketchbook. Steve lifted her chin with a finger and looked into her eyes. "Your eyes look extra green when you blush like that." Tina smiled shyly and looked out towards the river. Turning back, she analyzed Steve.

"And you look extra tired," she responded, eyeing the dark circles under his eyes. Steve shrugged, looking almost guilty.

"I'm fine," he said in a noncommittal tone. Tina paused, studying the exhaustion behind his eyes. She knew he was lying and probably about to fall asleep on the spot, but she let it go. Steve had some serious stuff going on. She didn't know exactly what, but she suspected it had to do with his job. Being in the special forces of the military couldn't be an easy job. She rose from the bench and hauled her bag onto her shoulder.

"Wanna walk me to class?" She was treated to a heart-stopping smile from the nicest guy she'd ever met.

"Sure."

"Swell. Thanks, Steve," she grinned mischievously. He laughed and laced his fingers with hers as they left the park.

…

Steve nervously checked his appearance in the mirror. He wore blue jeans and a white t-shirt that was a bit too fitted for his tastes, although Pepper had assured him it was 'hot'. He pulled on his brown leather jacket, combed his hair one last time, and deemed himself presentable. He hoped his attire was art-show appropriate. Tina had told him that this show was 'casual', and to wear 'normal' clothes, but in his experience, artsy things tended to be fancy. Well, they were in the forties. He'd felt better when he scoped out places for them to go together. Then at least he'd known what to expect. Steve hoped he wouldn't look out of place. He waited until the ruckus that generally went on in the living room reached a peak, and made his exit unnoticed in the midst of all the chaos.

…

Tina glared at her hair in the window. Why oh why did it always have to be curly? Couldn't it just take a day off? She tucked it behind her ears, sighed, and made one more last-minute check to see that all of her art was in its proper place.

"Chris!" her roommate Abby greeted her, "Your station looks awesome!"

"Thanks," Tina replied looking askance at the several paintbrushes and pencils lodged in Abby's hair. Abby seemed to catch her look and groaned.

"I left them all in there, didn't I?" Tina nodded with a giggle and began removing the art supplies from her friend's messy bun. Abby plopped into the stool that Tina had recently occupied. "I hate art shows. It's a shame I love art so much. I heard that Professor Panrell is going to base the grades partly on how many people buy your stuff. I'm scared!" Tina smiled at her friend's nervous rambling. "And-oh wait! Soo…" Abby began, clearly having just been struck by a new thought, "Do I get to meet the famous Steve tonight?"

"Yeah, he'll be here," Tina said quietly, still removing brushes.

"The one you claim is 'practically perfect in every way'? Body like Superman, heart of gold included?" Abby's tone sounded more than a bit dubious.

"He is! Just you wait and see Abigail. Just you wait!" Tina huffed indignantly.

…

When Steve walked into the hall, he was overwhelmed by art. Everywhere he looked, he saw something worth closer inspection. There were sculptures, paintings, sketches, colored pencil drawings, and other types of art he'd never thought of. He would have stayed there, gaping in every direction if he hadn't caught the sound of a voice he knew.

"Just you wait!" He walked around a display and saw Tina fussing with her friend's hair.

"Hi," he said as he approached, still feeling a bit out of place. He was starting to be comfortable around Tina, but more people? It made him nervous.

"Hey, Steve!" she greeted him enthusiastically. He smiled and bent to hug her tiny frame. "Abby, this is Steve. Steve, Abby." Steve reached out to shake hands with a girl whose jaw was dropped in a perfect O. A small part of his brain wondered why Tina sounded so smug…

"Hello," he smiled at the still gaping girl who looked like Tina's alter-ego. She about six inches taller than Tina, with dark, pin-straight hair.

"Oh, wow. I-I mean, hi," Abby stammered, eyes still locked on Steve. The soldier began to blush. He felt hot. He hated people staring at him. Tina, as always, seemed to be attuned to his feelings.

"Let me show you around," she offered.

"I'd love that," he replied, feeling more than a little relieved.

…

As the night drew to a close and Steve walked Tina back to her dorm, he came to realize how happy he'd been. When he was with this short, creative, shy, beautiful, silly, caring girl, Steve found that the brighter side of life was a lot closer than normal. He was on the other side where the grass was greener like her eyes. The raincloud got pushed away by the sunlight of her hair. The sounds of pain and gunshots were drowned in the music of her laughing. He looked down at her in shock from the realization. How on earth did she do it?

"This is me," she said as they reached the dorm, "Thanks for coming." Tina bit her lip and smiled.

"I loved it," Steve responded, "I've always loved art." Tina nodded, her eyes sparkling up at him. Suddenly, a voice in Steve's head began to shout at him. "Kiss her! Kiss her!" The rest of him tried to shush it up. "No! I can't do that!" She walked up the first two steps, but stopped when she realized that Steve was still holding onto her hand. "Why not? Why can't you? Are you chicken? Ha! Some hero you are…America's Hero, afraid of a tiny little girl!" Steve's brain didn't have a single comeback for the voice.

"What?" Tina asked, laughing lightly. Steve stared at her hair, turned silver in the moonlight, her eyes, framed by dark lashes, and finally, her lips, curved up slightly in a smile. He took a step closer to her and pressed his mouth to hers. It was tender, innocent, shy. It was then that Steve realized that this girl meant a lot more to him than he had been admitting to himself before. The kiss deepened; he tangled his fingers in her soft curls. She pulled herself closer to him and lightly traced where his shoulder met his neck with her fingertips. Steve felt a kind of passion that he hadn't experienced before. It made him feel hot and rushed. Still, he hesitated a little, allowing her to make the first moves. He didn't want to push her too far; he cared about her too much to upset her. Not that he really had any great ideas of what to do, for that matter. And he wasn't exactly sure where modern girls drew the line. Finally, she drew back and kissed the tip of his nose. "Goodnight, Steve." Steve smiled and cupped her cheek.

"Goodnight, Tina." Steve whistled the whole way home. He ducked into the Tower as inconspicuously as possible, knowing that the grin on his face was going to be there for a long time.

Steve didn't have a single nightmare that night.

Putting my own name in the story? Yes I did. And I am unashamed ;) While the character is nothing like me, I wanted my name in there...because I said so that's why! So what did you think? Reviews please :)