A/N: I don't know if anyone has read this or has been waiting on an update, BUT I have finally finished the second chapter! School is over, and I have three weeks of break so hopefully I will be able to write a few more chapters before life gets busy once more. I hope I did a decent job on this one, as always, constructive criticism is encouraged.

Steve couldn't string together a full sentence as he was savoring the new cookie recipe Sam had made. The man, made pastries to die for, he would eat them off the floor, they were so delicious.

"Sam… you damn genius"

"There a bit dry. They crumble too much." Sam was basically a perfectionist when it came to cooking and baking. He'd learned everything he knew from his Grandma when he'd been living with her in Harlem. She cooked best soul food in all of Harlem Sam had declared countless times. Steve had tasted Sam's jambalaya and it was heaven.

"I'd eat them off the floor they're so good." Replied the blonde around a mouthful of cookie moving back towards the counter.

"That's gross, man. But really, they aren't any good… Oh look, smoked salmon is here." The man said as his gaze was caught by the blonde who rounded the corner. The same blonde who came in like clockwork around lunch time. The same blonde who Steve always rang up and couldn't stop smiling at.

"What?" Steve's attention turned to look outside the shop and sure enough, it was smoked salmon. Quickly making his way around the counter, Sam couldn't help but snigger to himself, he always did this.

"Hi, I'd like…"

"Let me guess, smoked salmon on rye?" A smile was already tugging at his lips as he moved towards the display case.

The blonde, Sharon, chuckled and gave him an embarrassed smile. "I'm that predictable, huh?"

"No, I like to think of it as being consistent. We do have other items on the menu. Wraps, salads, different types of sandwiches."

"Surprise me then."

Giving her a nod, he moved to grab one of the freshly made turkey sandwiches on a croissant, wrapping it and slipping it into a brown paper bag.

"You do work here right? I only ask because you don't have one of those name tags." A small smile played at her lips, blue eyes steadily meeting his.

"As a matter of fact, I do work here. I'm Steve." Extending his hand across the counter, he shook her hand before ringing her up.

"Sharon."

The handshake was firm, and his larger hand engulfed her smaller one in warmth. Pulling it away, she pulled out a crumpled ten-dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to him.

Handing her the change, he pushed the brown bag across the space between them. His mind racing for a final thing to say. "You know, if you have a business card, you can drop it in the bowl. Winner gets a free lunch."

Smooth, right?

"I don't have the best luck, but why not?" Sharon smiled and pulled out a card from her phone case, dropping it into the clear glass bowl that sat in front of the register. Taking her bag, she raised a hand in a wave and made her way out of the café.

"Wait…" Sam hissed, knowing Steve was itching to fish her card out of the bowl. Both men watched her walk out and rounded the corner.

As she did, Steve reached in and pulled out a handful of business cards, brows furrowing as he tried searching for her name. "Shit. Where is it? There's a Sharon Smith, a Williams, Stone…. How many Sharon's are there?"

Looking over his shoulder, Sam picked out another card that read Sharon Carter. "And now a Carter. Good luck figuring out which one is hers."

Although the man was teasing, he'd help him in his quest at finding out smoked salmon's last name. Why? Because he was one of his good friends and because the man clearly had a thing for her. It was only fair that he at least get a chance.

"Hi, Sharon, this is Steve calling from Fraiche, you dropped your card in the bowl and won…."

"Hello? Who is this? Why are you calling my wife?"

"What? Oh.. so sorry, I got the wrong number…"

Quickly hanging up, Steve shot Sam an annoyed look as he sniggered to himself from the couch.

"I didn't take you as a homewrecker." He took a pull of the beer as his friend shook his head and turned his attention back to the phone in hand.

Dialing the last number, he hoped this one was hers. Pressing the talk button, he waited, counting out the rings. Nope. There was going to be no answer.

"Hi, Sharon, this is Steve calling from Fraiche, I really hope it's you I spoke to today. You're the last Sharon in the bowl I-" A beep singling a call waiting caused him to glance at the phone. "Call waiting…"

Pressing the talk button one more time, he answered and listened as the person on the line spoke. The male on the other line didn't even speak for a minute but it felt like the longest minute of his life. In that minute time slowed down and everything would end up changing.

After hanging up, Steve scrambled to grab his things and rush out the door. All the way to the police station he wished it was a sick joke of some sort. It couldn't be true, they couldn't… Sophie. Oh god, Sophie, was she with them? Was she okay? He had just spoken to them yesterday… how was this possible.

Visibly shaking, he hazardously parked his car and got out, not caring about the light rain that was making itself known.

"I'm looking for an Officer Pym."

A woman pointed him in the right direction and the officer's sorrowful face said everything he needed to know.

The male hadn't been paying attention to what the officer was saying, tears threatening to spill over as he simply nodded along with what was being said to him.

"Sophie…" the name crocked out of him as he sniffled, "They have a little girl, is she okay?"

"She was with a babysitter at the time of the accident. She's with CPS for the rest of the night."

The acronym startled him a bit. Why would CPS be involved? Natasha and James were alright. Weren't they?

"I'm sorry… CPS? What do they have to do….?"

Officer Pym exhaled softly, "They take care of incidents like this…. Orphan children. A next of kin is going to be required or a family member who might be able to care for the child."

Somehow Steve managed not to breakdown, not only had he lost his best friend but his goddaughter had lost her parents. He gave the officer the information he needed and was making his way back out of the station when he saw Maria walk in. Her hair was slightly untamed, and parts were matted down due to the rain.

"Maria…"

The brunette met his gaze as he said her name. The small shake of his head told her everything she needed to know. A sob passed her lips, a hand going to try and stifle the sounds. Soon, his arms warp around her shaking frame. A hand smoothing her hair as he comforts her, his own tears sliding free as he presses his lips to her hair.