I sat watching TV late that night. I had an entire four day weekend to spend with my daughter with one day dedicated to paper work. I groaned at the thought, and the fact that the neighbors above me were stomping around obnoxiously, fighting again. I didn't dare turn the TV volume any higher, or I'd wake Larissa. I was stuck. I laid my head back and closed my eyes, but sleep wasn't finding me. I felt paranoid. Very paranoid. I got up and walked around a bit, making sure everything was alright. Larissa was fast asleep. I looked out the window. Steve was just leaving the gym. I pulled on a coat and walked outside. "Hey, Steve…"

He stopped mid-stride and looked up, his eyes adjusting to the dark. "Mrs. Owens…what are you doing awake and out here at this hour?"

"Can't sleep…" I walked down a few steps. "What about you?"

"Just left the gym…" He skipped a few stairs as he climbed the steps. "I guess I'm in the same boat as you."

I smiled slightly and looked up at the sky. "Yeah…" A plane was traveling over head, or maybe it was Iron Man. Stranger things had happened in the city. I heard him chuckle, and I turned my attention from the sky. "What is it?"

"You bundled up on top, but left your legs wide open to the cold?"

I had only then realized I was wearing shorts. "Oh…I forgot I was wearing shorts…"

He chuckled again. "I hate the cold…" He watched his breath as it floated for a bit. I shrugged. "I can't say I like it very much either…but it gives me vacation days."

He sat on the steps leading to his apartment. In the dim light above us, I could make out the sweat marks in his shirt. "You work out a lot?"

He nodded. "It relieves a lot of stress…I mainly work on a punching bag."

I sat on the cold steps, regretting it slightly. A car drove up and parked, the lights going out as the door opened and closed. "Captain Rogers…I kind of expected you to be awake at this hour…but chatting it up with your neighbor? She must be dying to be asleep right now."

Steve stood up. "You don't know what you're talking about, Clint…"

Another car door shut. "Sorry about him, Steve…he's had a bit too much to drink tonight."

He chuckled. The two from the car walked up the steps. "Hello…I'm Natasha Romanoff."

"Clint Barton," Clint said, the slight sound of intoxication rolling off his tongue. I stood up.

"Aurora Owens…"

"So what brings you here?" Steve asked, always polite.

"We were on our way to Stark Tower, just wanted to drop by and check in." Natasha patted him on the shoulder. "But it looks like everything is just fine. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Owens."

I smiled. "Always a pleasure to meet new people."

Clint just laughed and pushed a playful punch into Steve's arm. "See ya later, man…I'm about to make a very angry man of one Tony Stark."

"You do that, Clint…Don't tell him I knew you were going to do it, I really don't want him to ride my ass about it later."

"Don't worry…I probably won't even remember doing it tomorrow!"

He wobbled down the steps, Natasha walking behind him closely to catch him if he fell. "Good night, Steve…Mrs. Owens."

The car drove off quickly. "Nice friends you've got there…"

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah…they're one of a kind, that's for sure."

"You know Tony Stark?"

"Unfortunately…I've had the pleasure of working with him."

"But you live here? Doesn't Stark Industries pay well?"

"I don't work for him, I've just worked with him. I like this place, anyway. I was born in Brooklyn."

"Oh…" I shifted my footing, and stepped on a broken rock. "Ouch…"

"You alright?"

"Yeah…" I sat down again and picked it from my foot. A bit of blood dribbled from the hole. "I shouldn't have come out here barefoot."

"Probably not…"

I stood up again, the pain not really there any more. I scratched my neck, and my finger caught the chain around my neck. Dog tags fell to the floor as I let go of the chain. He walked over and picked them up. "Lieutenant Michael Owens of the United States Armed Forces?"

"He was my husband…he died over in Afghanistan…"

He looked as if he had to think about it a moment. "The war?"

He placed the dog tags in my hand. "I'm very sorry…He must have been a great man."

"What about you?" I looked him in the eyes. "Your friend called you 'Captain Rogers'…"

"Yeah…" He pulled his dog tags from beneath his shirt. "I'm a Captain."

"Why aren't you living closer to base?"

He looked down. "Well…I-uh…"

The door to my apartment opened. "Mama!" Larissa called out, her voice scared and desperate. I turned quickly. "Come here, Larissa…Mommy's right here…"

She ran down the steps and jumped into my arms, small tears glistening on her cheeks in the dark. I wiped them away. "What's the matter?"

"I had a scary dream…"

I smiled. "It's alright, Lissa…" I kissed her forehead.

"It came back, mama…"

I frowned. Steve looked confused. "What? Who?"

I shook my head. Larissa looked at him. "The ghost…"

I sighed. "Nothing I do…"

Steve half laughed. "A ghost?"

I looked at him. "They're very real, Steve…"

He seemed taken aback by the real panic in my voice. "You're really afraid, aren't you?"

I kept my gaze on Larissa. He looked up at my apartment. "You can come to my apartment tonight…"

I looked at him. Larissa did too. "Really?" she asked, then quickly looked at me. "I've always wanted to see! Please, mama! Please!"

"Steve, I-"

"It's not a problem, Mrs. Owens…And your daughter really wants to."

I laughed slightly. "Alright…go with Steve, Lissa…I'll be over in a minute…I just have to get something from inside."

I set her down, and she grabbed Steve's hand. "Yay! Let's go, Mr. Steve!"

She pulled him in the direction of his apartment. I ran up the stairs to mine. I turned every light on as I walked through, and went to grab two blankets and a few pillows, and my house keys. I shut out all the lights as I walked out, and bumped into Steve. "Ah!"

"It's just me…" He took hold of the blankets and pillows. "Don't worry."

I breathed out quickly, my heart beat decreasing slowly. I walked out the door and closed it, and locked it tight. We walked up to his apartment. Larissa was sitting on a couch. "Hi, mama!"

He set the things down on it. "Take your pick of couches…Uh…there's water bottles in the fridge…snacks…bathroom in that door there…" He pointed to a half open door. Larissa jumped up and ran inside. He laughed.

"Thank you, Steve…"

He nodded. "Any time…I told you."

He plopped onto one of the three couches in the room. "Do you have a bed?" I asked.

"Yeah…but I don't want you to be left in here alone."

I set a blanket and two pillows on one couch for Larissa, and set up my own bed on another. I looked around at the room. There wasn't a TV, or a phone. The walls were plain, nothing on them. There was a large bookshelf in one corner, volumes and volumes of books on it. He got up. "Let me give you the grand tour…" He poked his head into his room and flipped the light switch. "My room, very poorly kept…sorry."

I looked inside. Nothing was on the floor but a pencil and what appeared to be a sketch pad. The bed was kind of unkempt, but nothing stray on it. "That's your definition of poorly kept?"

He walked inside. "I guess…"

I looked at another bookshelf that sat in his room. There were dozens of sketch pads. "What do you do with all these pads?"

He took one down and opened it up. "I draw."

I looked at him incredulously. "Really? You? Draw?"

"Oh yeah, all the time." He flipped through the pages showing off brilliant art skills I could have only imagined in someone that wasn't Steve Rogers. "That's…incredible." I looked at him.

"Thanks…" He placed the book back on the shelf. "If you had half the time that I do, you'd be able to fill up as many canvases as I do books."

"I've noticed you don't have any televisions…"

"Oh, I do…" He opened a door. It opened into a small closet where boxes sat unopened. "I just don't see the need. I can read."

"Wow…you're like…the embodiment of pre-21st century."

He kind of chuckled. "You have no idea…" He closed the door.

"I'm going to bed, mama!"

"Good night, Lissa…I love you…"

"I love you too, mama!" I heard the couch creak, and she was asleep in no time. I smiled and peaked my head around the corner to look. "Was he a good father?"

I ducked back inside the room. "Yes…He left when she was only 5 months old…came home for Christmas that year, went back and died a few days later…It was an undiscovered mine field…"

He plopped onto his bed and picked something up from his bedside table. "I see…Does she remember him any?"

"Not really…I show her pictures almost constantly…she loves to go to the cemetery and leave him drawn pictures."

He smiled as he opened the item in his hand, it almost looked like a pocket watch. "What's that?"

He seemed to notice a slight error, and closed it up quickly. "Nothing…" He placed it back on the bedside table and sat up. "You look tired," he commented, and I scratched the back of my head. There was really no fooling this guy.

"I'm just a little more comfortable now…I feel…safe, if that makes sense."

"It does…why not head out there? Get some sleep."

I nodded. "Thanks again…"

I laid on the couch, back out. I felt sweat beading on my forehead. I kicked my legs from beneath their covering. It felt slightly cooler. I turned over. Larissa was curled up and sleeping soundly. Steve was asleep as well, one arm and one leg slung over the edge, the other arm on his stomach. I half smiled at just how adorable he looked when he slept. (Baby adorable.) I sunk my face into my pillow when he turned over mumbling something in his deep sleep. I closed my eyes and drifted back into mid-night sleep.

I awoke again in the morning. Larissa's chocolate brown eyes were staring into mine. "Morning, mama! Come eat the breakfast Mr. Steve made!" She stood up straight and ran to a small dining table near the kitchen. "They're really good! Chocolate chip, mama!"

I sat up and stretched out my arms. Steve walked out of his bedroom, his hair wet from a shower and fresh clothes. I shuddered at how horrible I probably looked. "Good morning, Mrs. Owens…"

I got up and attempted to tame the beast my hair had become over night. "Morning…" The smell of the pancakes finally hit me, and my mouth literally watered. I walked over and sat down, staring at the stack in front of me. "They look great!"

"They're my own recipe…" He sat down with us. "All from scratch. You could call them old fashioned."

I cut into one and took a bite. "My god these are incredible! Steve, you're just proving yourself more and more a different person than I thought."

"What did you think?" he asked, kind of concerned.

"Well, I just thought you spent your time at the gym or something…nothing bad, I don't really think bad of people."

The was a loud rapping on the door. "Steve! I swear to god, Steve! I am going to kill you!"

Steve got up quickly. "You might want to cover Larissa's ears and bring her into my closet…"

"What? Why? Who is that?"

"Death…"

I got up and grabbed Larissa. She seemed panicked and ran into Steve's room on her own, grabbing the door handle to his closet and running inside. I stayed at the door of his room, peering out into the main room. Steve opened the door. "Tony, this really isn't the time."

"You knew…that Clint was going to do something STUPID in my tower! I now have to reboot JARVIS and clean up the entire Avengers floor! I should make you come and do it, since you're always so high and mighty!"

"Tony, he was drunk. You do really stupid things when you're drunk too!"

"That's different, I know what not to mess with in my tower. JARVIS is not a play toy, nor is my equipment!"

"All he told me was he was going to make one angry man out of you…He hadn't said how."

"Why the hell do you have beds made up on your couches, Steve? Who the hell's here? God knows you don't know anybody, nor have any relatives around here."

I stepped out of the room. "That's…not true."

He looked between Steve and I. "Oh…Who's this?"

"Aurora Owens…" I walked over normally. "I'm his neighbor. He was kind enough to lend a place for me and my daughter for the night…we had a bit of a problem."

Tony scoffed. "Just like you, huh, Steve? Always so charitable…I want you at Stark Tower in 2 hours to clean up after Clint. You got it? Wouldn't want to ruin your perfect reputation of being the Poster Boy, do we?"

I could see it in Steve's eyes how badly he wanted to hit him. I grabbed his balling fist as Tony walked down the steps. "Steve…"

He brushed it off and closed the door. "And it's always so much like him to be an ass after he wakes up and is hung over…I promise you he's not like that all the time. But, that's a good look at what he's like after alcohol."

"The infamous Tony Stark…Iron Man, right? How did you two…?"

"Long story," he said. I heard a soft buzzing. He pushed his hand into the pocket on his sweat pants and pulled out a phone. I saw his eyes roll and he replied to an obvious message from Tony. "Is that your one guilty pleasure? An iPhone?"

"Yeah…kinda. I think if I could chose anything to have, it would be means of communication."

"Larissa! You can come out now!"

The door in his bedroom clicked open and she ran out to grab me. "Who was it, mama! Was he scary?"

I picked her up. "No, sweetie…it's alright, now. We're gonna go home and get ready to go visit daddy, okay?"

"Can Mr. Steve come too?"

She looked at him. He placed the phone back in his pocket. "I couldn't do that," he said. "I didn't know him, and-"

"It would be fine…" she said. "Papa would be happy to meet someone that helped out mama and me."

I set her down. "Take mama's keys and open the door, okay?"

Larissa grabbed the keys and ran home. I folded our blankets and stacked them and the pillows together. Steve grabbed a few. "Are you sure, Mrs. Owens…I don't want to intrude on anything…"

"I'd like the company…" I didn't look up from the things I was holding. He detected the slight pain in my voice. "Alright…I'll join you until I have to run to Stark Tower for clean up."