One week after his initial meeting with Douglas, Steve rode his motorcycle through the streets of New York City. The early afternoon sun shone brightly as birds chirped and people hurried to and from their lunch destinations.

Despite the heavy traffic, everything looks quiet so far, Steve thought as he reached a four-way intersection.

He drummed his fingers along the handlebars while waiting at the red light as cars penned him in on either side. Once the light turned green, Steve waited as the other cars rushed ahead before he turned left. As he drove by a bank, he immediately heard gunshots and screams.

Sounds like a robbery in progress, thought Steve.

He pressed his motorcycle's brakes, parked close to the building, and rushed inside. As soon as he opened the door, where he found a group of hostages lined up against one wall while the robbers coerced the bank tellers to stuff money into bags. All five of the burglars turned to face him.

"I'm only going to say this once, friends, surrender," Steve commanded.

In his peripheral vision, he spotted Mark and Evan lined up with the other hostages. Evan's blue eyes were wide, either in fear or surprise, Steve wasn't sure.

Shoot, Douglas's son and grandson are here, he thought. Oh well, that can't be helped now. I need to be careful.

The bank robbers all shared a look.

"Get him!" the leader shouted.

The leader kept his pistol pressed against the back of the brunet bank teller's head as the other four removed their guns and made their way toward Steve. He slid his shield off his back as they grew closer.

"Have it your way, then," he said.

Steve threw it into the air and ran toward the closest burglar. His shield flew through the air and knocked three of the robber's weapons out of their hands. Steve punched the nearest thief, a man wielding a pistol, in the face. The man grunted and dropped his weapon, which Steve kicked in the opposite direction.

He extended his hand and his shield returned to him, which he held in front of himself as the other three robbers regained their pistols and fired at him. Steve kept the shield upright as the weaponless burglar ran toward him. Steve slowly angled the shield toward the man while keeping it slant, so that bullets didn't hit him. The weaponless robber grunted as Steve's shield knocked him to the ground.

One down, four to go, he thought.

He then tossed his shield again, and this time, each thief dropped their weapons. Steve caught his shield and followed up by kicking one robber in the knee. The second robber grunted as he slid back, while Steve followed up by smacking the other two in the face with his shield.

"Boss, this guy's kicking our asses here," the remaining burglar said, partly looking over his shoulder at the leader. "We need your help!"

"Keep him busy," the leader shouted. "I'm almost finished here."

"Your leader's right, you are almost done," Steve replied.

He swept one leg beneath the lone robber's heel, and the man fell on the ground beside his colleagues. Steve kept his shield at the ready but moved it just enough so the thief could see his face.

"I would stay down if I were you."

"Got it," the man said.

"Good," Steve said with a nod.

He then shifted his focus to the leader, who now had an arm wrapped around Douglas's grandson as he held a gun to the young boy's head.

"You take one more step, and the kid dies," the leader said. "Walk away now, and he lives."

Damn, he has Douglas's grandson hostage, thought Steve. But I can't let him get away with murder.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," he replied, before turning his focus to Douglas's grandson. "Son, you might want to duck."

Steve then threw his shield and Evan did as he was told. Steve's shield sped through the air and bounced off the wall behind the lead robber.

"Huh, you-"

The lead burglar grunted as the shield hit him in the back of the neck and he dropped his weapon. Douglas's grandson quickly ran in the direction of his father, who heartily embraced him. Steve then caught his shield before he walked toward the fallen robber.

"I told you to surrender, and you didn't," he said. "Everything that's happened thus far is your own fault. Soon enough the police will be here, so why don't you surrender now before worse things befall you and your crew?"

The man glared up at Steve as he slowly raised his hands.

"We surrender," he rasped.

XXXXX

Twenty minutes later, Steve had all the would-be bank robbers tied up and lined up on the wall opposite the former hostages. He stayed inside the bank until the police came before he went to check on the former hostages. As he made his way to the EMT vehicles, he spotted a vehicle that he knew belonged to Excelsior News.

I wondered when they would show up, he thought. Hopefully, I can leave before they try shoving a camera in my face.
Even back during his Army days, Steve had never been one for the press. He appreciated the job they did, he believed in free speech, but he didn't feel the need to speak with the press. He felt his work should speak for itself, so why draw additional attention to it?

Steve shifted his focus back to the EMT vehicle as Jane Foster examined Evan. Mark sat on the other side of his son and he turned to Steve.

"How's he doing?" Steve asked.

"So far, I don't see any major injuries," Jane Foster replied. "Evan's going to be just fine."

"Thank you so much," Mark said, looking between Steve and Jane. "Both of you."

"You're welcome," Jane replied. "You two are cleared whenever you want to leave."

"Come on, big guy, let's head home," Mark said, as he grabbed Evan and picked him up, before putting Evan on the ground.

"Thank you for saving me, sir," said Evan.

He looks so much like Douglas, thought Steve.

He smiled and bent down to Evan's level. "You're more than welcome, young man."

"Would you like to have dinner with us?" he asked.

"I don't know, that's up to your dad," Steve replied.

Evan looked up at his father with a pleading expression. "Hey Dad, can we invite Captain America to dinner as a thank you? Please?"

Shoot, I didn't mean to get in between father and son like this, Steve thought as he looked up at Douglas's son with a sheepish expression.

"If it's okay with the Captain, it's okay with me," Mark answered.

Evan then turned his puppy dog eyes to Steve, who laughed. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

"Yeah!" Evan said, pumping his fist into the air.

Steve slowly stood up and grinned as Evan began to run in circles.

"Hi, I'm Mark Rogers," Mark said, extending and shaking Steve's hand. "What time works best for you?"

"Anytime that works for you works for me," Steve answered.

"How does tomorrow night at six o'clock sound?" said Mark.

"Sounds good," Steve said. He then held out his hand. "I'll see you at six, then?"

"See you at six," Mark replied, shaking Steve's hand. "Thanks again, Captain."

Once the men pulled their hands away, Steve spotted the press beginning to swarm the scene and he partially turned to Mark with a grin.

"Time for me to take my leave," Steve said. "I look forward to dinner tomorrow night."

He then turned and hurried toward his bike.

Douglas woke up from his nap on the living room couch just as the front door opened. He opened his eyes to find Evan had thrown the front door open, with Mark close behind.

"Evan, what did I say about opening the door like that when your grandfather is trying to sleep?" Mark asked.

Damn, Evan reminds me so much of Steve and I at his age, Douglas thought.

He watched as Evan's face grew stormy and the young boy crossed his arms over his chest.

"Not to," he answered.

"That's right," Mark said, before shifting his focus to Douglas. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"It's fine, I should probably get up anyway," Douglas replied. He slowly sat up, adjusting the blanket on his lap. "What time is it?"

Mark removed his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time.

"It's just after three o'clock," Mark answered.

Evan's demeanor became lighter as he ambled toward Douglas.

"Hey Grandpa, guess what?" He stood near Douglas, his eyes bright and full of life.

Douglas knew if he didn't guess, Evan would continue asking. It was a game they'd played, ever since Evan had first learned to speak.

"What's that, champ?" Douglas replied.

"Dad and I saw Captain America at the bank and he saved me," Evan replied. "And 'cause of that, he's coming to dinner!"

Douglas pushed aside his disgust of his older brother for the time being for Evan's sake and forced a smile on his face as he ruffled Evan's hair.

"That's great champ."

"It is, isn't it?" Evan answered. "I'm gonna tell Mom now."

Evan quickly raced toward the doorway leading to the dining room.

"Buddy, Mom's going shopping with friends, remember?" Mark replied. "She won't be home for a while."

Evan stopped just before the doorway and turned to his father and Douglas.

"That's ok, I'll tell her when she gets home," he said.

Without another word, he shot out of the room like a rocket. Douglas laughed softly while Mark sighed and shook his head.

"So, how did this happen again?" Douglas asked, shifting his attention to his son.

"We went to the bank and just as we reached the front of the line, robbers came and ordered everyone but the teller against the wall. Shortly thereafter, Captain America came and one of the robbers held Evan at gunpoint," Mark replied. "Without Cap, well, I don't know if Evan would be here."

Leave it to Steve to play the hero, Douglas thought bitterly.

Outwardly, he nodded. "Well, sounds like he had perfect timing."

Lucky timing was what Douglas wanted to say, but didn't.

Mark nodded. "Yeah, it was."

"So, when is the Star-Spangled Hero coming to dinner?" Douglas asked, as he pushed the blanket off his lap and slowly stood up.

"Tomorrow night at six," Mark answered.

Oh joy, thought Douglas.

He didn't particularly look forward to seeing his brother again, let alone over dinner. Then again, he had saved Evan and the boy seemed rather eager to invite over his favorite hero.

"Sounds good," said Douglas as he turned and began walking toward the doorway. "If anyone needs me, I'll be outside."

"Just be careful and ask if you need any help," Mark said.

I'm not an invalid, dammit, Douglas thought. Just because I'm at 'such an advanced age' doesn't mean I'm helpless.