After reading until past 4am, Steve Rogers found himself quite unable to rise by noon. And the only reason he passed back into the realm of consciousness at 12:39 was because after being trapped in a horrible trench nightmare, he rolled himself out of bed and hit the floor... hard.

"Jesus Christ." He gasped, shaking his head to clear away the carnage of the battlefield. He was drenched in sweat, his covers twisted and snarled around his legs. Just like every morning.

He got up and threw the slimy sheets into the hamper, stumbling his way to the shower. The key to forcing his mind to move on from the dreams was routine. Cleansing himself helped.

Once in the shower, he grabbed ahold of himself and began pumping his fist, achieving orgasm quickly and systematically. His brain flooded with a more relaxed feeling. Part of the routine. He washed up, then got out, wrapping himself in a towel and going to examine his face in the mirror.

He had resisted seeing the SHIELD psychologist for a long time, until the dreams became almost unbearable. Then, after the battle for New York, Tony had gently talked him into getting help. It helped, but the dreams and the PTSD were still there on the edge of his mind. He kept them carefully locked away most of the time, but even he had his slips.

He grimaced at himself. Looking in the mirror wasn't easy.

He balled up the towel and tossed it in the hamper. He'd resisted the urge to please himself for a long time. That wasn't how he was raised. Tony kept reminding him he could get laid at any hour of the day, as many girls as he wanted, but that wasn't him. He'd only recently started using the shower as a daily escape from the frustrations and loneliness he was feeling. At first he'd felt dirty, but now it was just routine. The psychologist recommended he start seeking sexual release as a remedy for the pent-up emotions he was feeling. Thanks to his rather isolated position, his fist was the closest thing to gratification he would be getting.

Once dressed, Steve turned his attentions to cleaning his bedroom. Books were stacked all around the bed and falling off shelves in the corners, clothes tossed everywhere. It wasn't his usual policy to be a slob, but he'd been moodier than usual the last few days and that lead to sloppiness in his routines. But routine was what kept him from losing it entirely. If he slipped up, it was harder to get back to normal.

He paused picking up his copy of Gone With the Wind. He'd fallen asleep somewhere around 400 pages, making a considerable dent in the humongous text. He was fascinated... And had about a hundred questions for Jennifer.

Jennifer. He dove towards the holopad situated on his bedside table. Flipping through it, his breathing caught as he saw an unread message with a mechanical tagline. He swiped it open and saw that Jennifer had sent it at 0600 that morning. He'd been too asleep to hear the notification.

Good morning Captain,

Free time begins at 1800, if you would still like to discuss literature.

Looking forwards to it.

Jenny

Jenny. She wanted him to call her Jenny.

Eagerly, he tapped out a reply.

Ms. Hope,

I'd be honored to host you at my quarters, tonight at your convenience.

I'll make mama's chicken pot pie.

Steve

He put the holopad down on his bed and returned to tidying. If he was going to have a woman around the house, he needed to make it look immaculate. He didn't think Jenny had any objections to clutter, but it would calm his mind to have his world in order.

In short order, the various books littered around the apartment were shelved, the kitchen cleaned, and the couch arranged to a more convenient position. Still feeling anxious, he decided it was time to go train to kill some time. He slipped in a pair of Tony's ultra-fancy earbuds, allowing some Sinatra in to distract him.

It wasn't a long jog down to the training arena, Fury had designed the Avengers' apartments to be close to any amenity they would want. Only the best for the world's heroes.

The training arena was a huge bunker with a track around it. A pool and weight room adjoined, and a simulation room allowed them to practice battle scenarios. Steve went first for the track, pounding out a dozen laps to get his muscles loose. Then he began his usual calisthenics, blocking the room out. He was unaware of the large group of people entering the room until he completed a turn and nearly bowled over the commander in charge of the unit. He snapped a salute, which confused the commander. Steve outranked him because of Avenger status, but old habits died hard.

"Captain America, sir!" The commander barked.

"At ease." Steve removed his earbuds.

"Flight combat squad C, reporting for training." The commander continued. Steve looked around. The new recruits were watching him with awestruck faces.

"Am I in your way, Commander?" Steve said amiably. "I would be happy to move."

"Sir, the recruits are preparing for enemy engagement training, would you be willing to spar with us? That is, if you don't object, sir. The men should work with someone stronger than the average man."

"Of course, Commander." Steve said. "Give your orders."

He fell into line with the others as the Commander barked orders. He could tell the soldiers around him were watching him out of the corner of their eyes. He pushed the feeling of alienation away and fell into the familiar routine of combat warm up.

After a rigorous warm up, they were set to sparring. Steve took his place, then did a double take. Jennifer Hope was standing across from him, an amused smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"You're in flight combat?" Steve whispered as they got into the directed hold, taking each other's shoulders. "I thought you were a mechanic."

"They move me according to their needs. I can fly planes, fix planes, and fight for my planes. I've done two tours in Afghanistan." She made the first attack, then moved back lightly, avoiding his block and jab. Steve came back on guard, blocking her next attack and kicking out at her legs. She swirled around him and got a good knee to his back. He sprang back to his feet and they circled each other.

"My apologies, ma'am. I didn't know you were a fighter and a pilot." She smiled at his attempt at humor and ducked his next punch, pulling on his arm and causing him to stumble. Her fighting style was more fluid than the regimented military combat style being showcased around them. He was actually having to choose his moves carefully.

"Did you see my message?" Jenny asked him as she blocked two of his punches in a row.

"Yes. I replied. Forgive my late response, I was engaged in some interesting literature last night that kept me up too late. Forgive me."

"What were you reading?" Jenny kicked out, her foot connecting squarely with his hip. He barely budged. He used one hand to toss her foot up, causing her to unbalance and fall backwards.

"It was better to know the worst than to wonder." Steve quoted, kneeling over her and putting his fist to her throat. She nodded, ceding the match to him. He stood.

"You stayed up all night reading Gone With the Wind?" She asked, panting and wiping her mouth. Steve nodded.

"You were right, it is a beautiful book." He said.

"Well, Captain. I'm flattered." She said softly. Their eyes met and held, but they were quickly interrupted by the commander's whistle. Steve looked up and saw Nick Fury up on the observation deck, staring down at him.

"Until tonight." Steve said, nodding at Jennifer and jogging to the locker room. Jenny followed his gaze and nodded, watching him go.

Steve collapsed on his bed at 1730 hours. Fury interrupting his day never had good results. Tomorrow Steve was going to check on a situation in Canada, something about insurgent mutants making trouble and Professor X requesting some diplomatic interference. Diplomatic interference was practically his middle name, for all he was used for in the Avengers.

He needed to lay down and feel sorry for himself for a little while longer, then get up to shower and get ready for Jenny.

He was completely startled a moment later by the doorbell on the front door control beeping at him. Was she early?

Steve got up and padded to the door, pressing the appropriate buttons for the door to whoosh open.

Jenny was standing there, a bottle of something and a small package in her hands. She was wearing jeans and a sweater and her still damp hair up in a bun.

"Sorry, I finished my repairs for the day. I thought I would come by early instead of pacing around my bunk. Is it a good time?" She took in his disheveled appearance.

"Please, come in." Steve said. "Give me a moment to finish freshening up?" She nodded and went to perch on the couch.

Steve zipped through the bathroom at record speed, barely allowing himself time to get anxious. When he returned to the living room, Jenny had a glass of whatever alcohol she'd brought in her hand and was examining the large bookshelf facing the couch.

"I'm a bit of a book hoarder." Steve admitted sheepishly. "So much to catch up on."

"I can imagine." Jenny replied, taking a sip of her drink. Steve padded into the kitchen to start on the dinner. He'd requisitioned the groceries needed from the replicator already. Jenny came over to the breakfast bar to perch on a stool while he cooked.

"I think this is the nicest thing a guy has done for me." She said mildly, refilling her drink and pouring another one for him. He reached over and took it, taking a sip of what he determined to be bourbon.

"Now what do you mean by that?" Steve asked as he stirred the gravy over the stove.

"Most guys on this ship just want a meal at the commissary and a quick - pardon my french - fuck in their bunk. They don't make a girl dinner."

"Well. At the risk of sounding cliche - I'm not most guys." Steve said, tasting the gravy. "I come from a time where men actually respected women."

"Cheers." Was all Jenny said. They lapsed into comfortable silence as he cooked.

"Do you want some music?" Steve asked after a while.

"Sure."

Steve went to the door control and swiped to ambience, turning on his favorite Sinatra. Soft tunes began to play around the apartment, making it somehow cozier.

"Very nice." Jenny said. He smiled at her and went to tend to the pies, which were almost ready for the oven.

"Choose yours." He said as he finished off the two little pies. She picked the one on the left, and he passed her a knife.

"Make a pattern in the top. Something you care about, or mama says it won't work."

Jenny slowly and carefully carved a large "A" in the top. Steve chuckled.

"Big fan?"

"You could say that." Jenny replied softly. "What are you going to put?"

Steve thought for a second, then carved a large "J" on the top of his.

"Bold move." Jenny said.

"One could say you look good enough to eat." Steve replied, instantly blushing as dark as he could go. He couldn't believe he'd said it out loud.

Jenny laughed, slapping her hand on the counter. Steve tried to hide his embarrassment by popping the pies into the oven.

"I take it that it's been some time since you've been dating." Jenny said.

"You could say that. I haven't been on the dating scene since Hitler was in power." Steve replied. They held gazes again.

"Is this a date, Jenny?"

She stood up and moved around the counter towards him, once again stepping close enough for him to smell her shampoo. He noticed a stray lock of hair falling out of her messy bun, and he couldn't resist plucking it off her forehead and placing it behind her ear. He could feel the heat between them.

"I thought that I might be feeling something here. But if you're just fucking around, I'll leave." She said quietly, her blue eyes examining him. Steve felt like his chest was locked in a vice grip.

"I... do. I want to see more of you." He said, letting his hands settle on her waist. "And for propriety's sake, I have to insist on taking things slow. I wasn't raised that way."

Jenny exhaled and relaxed. Steve felt dizzy, his mouth on overdrive.

"And I have to tell you some things... Some things that might change your mind about me."

They held gazes yet again, and the oven timer decided to go off. Steve reluctantly turned away to tend to their pies.

"Where do you keep plates?" Jenny asked. Steve pointed to the cabinet over the sink. She opened it and stretched up to reach, but she was barely too short. Steve quickly set down the pies and went to help her, reaching the plates easily, dwarfing her with his build. She turned, pinned between him and the counter, and once again he felt the heat between them. He almost had the gumption to crane his neck ever so slightly and close the distance between them...

Something stopped him. He didn't want to rush. But he enjoyed being so close to someone.

"You... want to tell me about work?" He asked awkwardly. Jenny laughed, resting her hands on his chest. They stayed in their comfortable half-embrace as she rattled off the various things she did during the day.

"That reminds me, I have a story from the battle for New York." She laughed.

"You were there?" He asked. She nodded.

"I saw you and the others fighting those... things. We HALOed into the drop zone to evacuate civilians."

"Brave work." Steve replied. "You saved a lot of lives."

For one second, he saw a shadow pass behind Jenny's eyes, one that was all too familiar. He realized he'd said the wrong thing. He didn't know what to do. Jenny cleared her throat and he took the cue to step away from her. She walked out towards the living room, obviously collecting herself. Steve watched but didn't say anything.

"You sure do have a lot of books."

"I collect them whenever I'm on shore leave." He replied. "I plan to pick up a few new ones when I'm on mission this week."

"You leave tomorrow?" She asked, turning to him. The look on her face was uncertain.

"Unfortunately. I'll be back soon though. Not that anyone at SHIELD will miss me."

Jenny looked at her feet and Steve mentally hit himself over the head. He'd said the wrong thing again.

"I'm sorry, Jennifer." He said softly. She looked up at him, searching for the honesty in his face. She got it. She looked down. The stove timer went off.

They passed the rest of the meal in awkward silence. Steve felt a sick feeling pooling in his stomach. He'd messed everything up with her and there was no way to salvage it. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, her face was expressionless as she nibbled her way through the pot pie. When the meal reached a close, she stood and tried to clear her plate, but he had them whisked away before she could go far.

"A gentleman's prerogative." He said gently. He came back around the breakfast bar and edged as close as he felt appropriate. He reached for her hand.

"Please... forgive me for upsetting you." Steve said, his blue eyes pleading. "I understand what combat does to a soldier. I would never want to bring you pain."

Jenny relaxed visibly, giving his hand a squeeze.

"I should be going. You deploy in the morning." She said softly. Steve couldn't help himself, he wanted her closer. He pulled on her hand and snaked his hand to her waist. She stiffened slightly, then relaxed as he began to sway from side to side to the still-playing croonings of Frank Sinatra.

"I'll be back as quickly as I can. May I see you again?" Steve rumbled. Jenny nodded against his chest. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head, willing his heart not to beat so fast. He'd managed to salvage the evening after all.

"I think this is every girl's dream, isn't it? Being asked on a second date by Captain America, the perfect modern man?

"Jennifer, I'm afraid I'm far from perfect. And hardly what you'd call modern. I'm still adjusting to this new life." He replied. "I..."

"What?"

Steve chewed his lip, then decided to continue.

"I have been so isolated the last few months since I was recovered, I want to always ensure that my feelings for you are genuine... Not based on a desire to have someone pay attention to me. Truth is, I haven't felt a draw to a person in a very long time."

Jenny reached up to move a lock of hair off his creased brow. Steve melted at her affectionate touch.

"I'll consider myself lucky. I don't believe in love at first sight, but I do believe that when a man you've admired your whole life looks at you the way you're looking at me now, you do something like this."

She leaned up on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cheek. Steve felt hot all over, pent-up emotions flooding his mind.

"Goodnight, Captain." Jenny was saying, smiling at him as she left. He smiled back, a genuine smile. His heart was beating hard enough to hurt.

As he turned to go back in his room, he noticed that Jenny had left her package on the couch. He picked it up. His name was printed neatly on the brown paper wrapping. He ripped it open.

Inside was a book. The Confidence-Man, Herman Melville. A note fell out of it into the floor.

Captain,

We share an old friend in common.

Jenny