AN: Okay, so just as a heads up I haven't written fanfic in years, and this is my first Avengers fanfic. This takes place post Avengers but pre-Winter Soldier/Ironman 3, though there may be some non-plot related pieces from TWS within this later on for character building purposes. This is rated M for some possible smut later on and the ample use of swear words by most of my characters.

I'll be trying to update with new chapters every week as I've already got the first couple finished. Please read and review as much as possible, like I said, its been awhile since I was publishing fanfic. To give you any clue the last time I did the review button was at the bottom of the page and was purple. God, I'm old. Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Also unfortunately I do not own ANY Marvel characters. Just Charlotte and any OC's I need to bring in. Happy reading!

What was with the sudden obsession with stars? I thought to myself, staring at panel after panel of fabric, each with stars incorporated somehow within the design. Loud patriotic stars, stars in the night sky, faint tiny stars just a shade darker than surrounding fabric. Stars everywhere. Don't get me wrong, stars were fantastic, but they were everywhere now. Stars on notebooks, sketchpads, pencils, scrapbooking materials and stamps. Everywhere you looked in this little craft store, there were stars. I sighed and looked down at the sketchpad in my lap, surprised to see that during my little internal rant I had drawn dozens of poorly shaped stars all over my piece of paper. Large stars, little stars, shooting stars, all of them malformed and looking like a five year old had drawn them. I groaned and ripped the page in frustration. I had two bachelors degrees, a masters degree and a doctorate, and at 27 years old, I still couldn't draw basic shapes. I lacked what seemed like even the slightest artistic talent and flipped through my sketchpad, seeing page after page of poorly drawn lines, uneven figures and scramblings. I had thought that working in this little craft shop on the lower east side might aid my artistic ability, maybe inspire me or teach me something, but after 3 years it seemed that it was useless. I threw the crumpled piece of paper toward the trash can underneath the counter where I sat, watching it bounce off of the corner of the lid. I huffed in frustration, hopping down from my stool and reaching for the piece of paper.

"Charlotte!" my manager, Stella's, voice rang out from the back of the store. I sprang up, rapping my head sharply against the counter.

"Fuck!" I muttered, rising slowly and feeling my head for the beginnings of a bump.

"Charlotte!" Stella called again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I called back, following her voice to the back of the store. Turning down an aisle walled up on both sides with yarn of every color, shape and size, I found Stella, my manager of the past three years struggling to bring down a ball of yarn bigger than her head. A feat which would usually be impressive, given that Stella was smaller than me, hovering around five feet tall and shrinking fast. Stella was nearly 73 years old and had opened the little shop nearly 40 years ago. A reformed flower child, she insisted on working every day for at least 5 hours each day and was at the moment standing on tip toes on our old stepladder, trying to bring down what had to be the largest ball of yarn I had seen in my life.

"Stella! What are you doing up there?!" I asked, rushing over to bop the ball back into its space on the shelf and help Stella down the stepladder.

"I want to divide up that skein. That color is never going to sell in that size. Who the hell would want 500 yards of mustard yellow yarn?" She asked, dusting herself off. "God knows what I was thinking ordering that."

"By the look of it, you bought it in 1975 and it hasn't moved since." I reached up, pulling the giant skein down and examining it. Stella smiled.

"That explains quite a bit actually. 1975 was a good year for mustard yellow," Stella murmured, a soft smile on her face, " In fact I had quite the two piece I made for myself that summer in mustard yellow. Didn't cover up much." she mused, continuing down the aisle. I screwed up my face trying to get that image out of my head. "Take the rest of those down, along with that puke green color. They'll sell faster in smaller sizes. I'll take over at the front dear." with that she disappeared around the corner. I sighed, looking up at the mountain of yarn in front of me and shuddered.

"Two piece mustard yellow bathing suit. What the hell was wrong with everyone in the 70's?"

Somewhere during my third trip up to grab a giant mustard yellow yarn ball, I faintly remember hearing the bells jingle in the front of the store and the sound of Stella's sweet voice, along with that of a man. I smiled to myself. Stella did love the guys, always had, it seemed. She never hesitated to share her first hand experiences of the sexual revolution, much to my and most of the staff's dismay. Though at the end of the day, Stella was kind of a badass. She had managed to keep this store open and successful for decades on her own. Never married, seldom paired up, she seemed extremely satisfied with her lot. She was independent and open minded, changing and shifting with the years as easily as New York City itself. She had tried teaching me to draw to no avail, but had found some success in teaching me to knit as long as I had a specific pattern to follow. Stella had hosted birthday parties, bridal and baby showers for her staff along with a spirited Christmas celebration each year. Out of all of my endless odd jobs, she had been my favorite boss, which is why I had stayed here for longer than my requisite 2 months before quitting. Every time I thought about it, Stella did something outrageous or sweet that convinced me to stay for a bit more.

"Crazy old bat," I muttered, pulling the final giant ball of mustard yellow yarn from the top shelf, grabbing on and trying to maneuver my feet below me to the next step on the stepladder, realising too late that the heel of my shoe had caught on the top step, sending me backwards. I had a brief moment to flail out and pray that the balls of yarn around me would make for a soft, if offensively colored landing, before being plucked out of the air by two fairly large arms. I tensed for impact, eyes closed until I realized that I was no longer moving. One eye popped open to see a man with a blue eyes staring back at me, slightly bemused. I opened my other eye to see the rest of his face, classically handsome, with a strong jaw, sharp cheekbones and a well defined nose, as well as light blue eyes twinkling with amusement. Realizing that I was staring, looked down at the giant ball of yarn still clutched to my chest and finally reacted.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I wriggled to get down, knowing that I wasn't exactly easy to pick up, but blue eyes here didn't seem to have any problem with that, as his grip only tightened as I wriggled.

"Are you alright miss?" he asked, his voice at once commanding and soft. Miss, I thought in my head, I hadn't been called miss in almost 5 years. A small section of my brain did a happy dance.

"I'm fine really, just let me down please. I know I'm heavy," I wriggled again and Blue Eyes grinned, a secret glinting in his eyes.

"No miss, you're not heavy at all." he said as he let me back onto my feet. I blushed and felt instant relief as my feet touched the ground, only to feel faint again as my head throbbed, a nasty reminder of my bump earlier. I reached back, feeling a definite lump rising on the back of my head. A few more hours and I'd have quite the bump, looking like a villian out of a old-fashioned Mickey Mouse cartoon.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Blue Eyes asked again, leaning down to look me in the eyes, searching to see if I really was okay.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm fine, just clumsy." I smiled weakly, still rubbing the back of my head tenderly.

"Did you hurt your head? I could've sworn I grabbed you before you hit anything," He muttered distractedly, reaching back to where my hand was rubbing the bump on my head.

"No, that was from earlier. I wasn't kidding when I said I was clumsy," Blue Eyes was parting my dark hair in order to look at the bump closer before I realized how very close he was and my New York instincts kicked in.

"Hey, excuse me Blue Eyes, I'm fine," I muttered, turning away from him and clutching the back of my head gingerly. "Ever heard of personal space?" I asked as I stepped back and onto a mound of yarn, before I knew it I was falling backwards yet again and braced for impact, only to find myself again in the arms of Blue Eyes, this time only a few inches off the ground.

"Geez, you weren't kidding about clumsy, huh?" he asked, a smirk on his perfect features. I huffed in frustration as he placed me back on my feet.

"Well Boy Scout, I suppose its a good thing that you're here isn't it?" I muttered, kicking the ball of yarn responsible for my humiliation. "Thanks for the help, but I'm afraid I have to get back to work."

"Blue Eyes, Boy Scout?" He wondered aloud, "Are those supposed to be insults?"

"Yes, I suppose that they are." I muttered, reaching down to grab yet another yarn ball and straightening up quickly to insult Blue Eyes again before all the blood rushed to my brain and then away in quick succession, leaving me dizzy and faint. I registered a look of concern before I found myself in boy scout's arms for the third time in a five minute period.

"You are definitely not alright." he muttered, striding out of the aisle and toward the front of the store.

"Charlotte! What happened?" Stella exclaimed, racing over. Blue Eyes placed me in a chair gently, leaning me against the wall. The room was definitely spinning and Blue Eyes was staring at me intently.

"Definitely a concussion." he muttered. "You said something happened earlier, how did you hurt your head?"

"Counter. I tried to get a piece of trash into the trashcan, missed, and then went down to retrieve it, was suprised and stood up, not realizing that the counter was right above my head. And as much as I hate you admit that you're right Blue Eyes, it's definitely a concussion."

"You've had them before?" he asked.

"I've had enough to know what one feels like. Clumsy remember? I'll be fine, just let me sit for a bit." I murmured, straightening myself on the stool, blinking my eyes to try and focus.

"If you have a concussion, you should go the hospital."

"The hospital?" both Stella and I exclaimed at the same time. I looked over at Stella for the first time, seeing her face wrinkled with worry. I cursed inwardly. Stella didn't need this stress.

"I'm fine, I promise. It's not a bad concussion, just a mild one. No need for the hospital." I reasoned. Blue Eyes narrowed his eyes in suspicion and I shot him a pleading look. He glanced back at Stella's worried face and sighed.

"Yeah, you'll be fine. As long as you go home right now and call a friend to look after you." He looked pointedly at me, as if already expecting my refusal. After a brief internal struggle, my better judgement won out.

"Fine." I muttered between my teeth, and Blue Eyes smirked triumphantly. "Stella, Joanne should be here in 15 minutes. She can take the rest of my shift. I only had a half an hour left anyway. I'll be in tomorrow though okay?" I told her reassuringly as I stepped down from the stool, Blue Eyes holding one arm firmly to make sure I didn't fall.

"No, no. We'll have someone else come in. You stay home, take care of yourself. You'll walk her home, won't you dear?" she asked, touching Blue Eyes' huge bicep softly. I could see her hands squeeze just slightly, testing the muscle and rolled my eyes. Boy scout's eyes widened and I suppressed a smirk. Stella never missed out on an opportunity to feel up an attractive man.

"Of course I will, no problem at all ma'am," Blue Eyes replied.

"Okay then. Be safe! And give me a call when you get home Charlotte!" she said, opening the door for us. We exited into the cold November evening.

"Where do you live?" Blue Eyes asked and I looked up at him suspiciously.

"You don't need to know. It's close by and I can get there by myself." I extracted my arm from his grasp and stepped away before feeling faint again and taking a step back into his arms inadvertently.

"Uh huh. I'd like to see you try," he chuckled, "now, once again, where do you live?" I sighed, conceding defeat and pointed to the right.

"Two blocks that way. 121 oak, apartment 3C." we moved in that direction slowly, Blue Eyes keeping a large and solid arm underneath mine, supporting me.

"You're sure that you're fine? You don't feel any nausea do you? How much pain?" he asked as we paused at a crosswalk.

"I'm fine. No nausea, and the pain isn't bad," I said.

"On a scale of 1 to 10?"

" About a 2," I lied.

"On a scale of 1 to 10?" he asked again skeptically.

"Fine. Maybe more like a 7." I admitted as we came up to the door of my building.

"You need someone to come stay with you. Make sure you don't throw up or anything. Your concussion is probably worse than you let on in the store. You should have let me take you to the hospital." he muttered, irritation rising in his voice as we climbed the three flights of stairs to my apartment.

"Hey Blue Eyes, I'm home now, no need to continue playing boy scout." I muttered, opening the door and stepping outside, flicking the light on and then wincing. Blue Eyes shut the light off again, directing me towards the couch and turning on a light on the coffee table, directing it away from my face.

"Sensitivity to light, dizziness, head pain, and noise sensitivity if the way you cringed at that dump truck on the corner is any indication," My brows furrowed in confusion. I hadn't even noticed that. "You definitely have a decent concussion and should be in the hospital." He stood and reached for the phone.

"Stop, I'm fine!" I exclaimed. He paused in dialing, looking over at me, "Listen, I don't have any insurance, and if Stella hears that I was in the hospital, she'll make herself sick with worry. I'm fine, I promise." Blue eyes set the phone down hesitantly.

"Fine, but you need to have someone look after you at the very least. You have any friends you can call? Boyfriends, family?" I smirked.

"Real subtle Boy Scout." I muttered underneath my breath, "Not really. I can call Steph I guess, it'll just take her a bit to get here."

"Give her a call. I'll stay here until she can get in." My eyes narrowed, he crossed his arms and stared me down. "Concussions are no laughing matter." Frustrated I made a face at him and dialed Steph's number.

"Hey Steph. No, nothings wrong. No, no, I'm fine. Well, I have just a tiny bit of a concussion." I winced holding the phone away from my ear as she yelled worriedly. "I'm fine, I just banged my head at work and need someone to look after me for a bit. I wouldn't ask but the boy scout who walked me home from work insists on it." Blue Eyes turned back, eyebrow raised. "Yeah, that's fine. A half an hour is more than fast enough. Thanks Steph, I appreciate it. See you soon." I set the phone down.

"There? You happy?" I muttered. "My friend will be here in 30 minutes. She's a trained nurse and I'm probably taking her away from a shift, but she'll be here because everyone around me is entirely too paranoid about my health."

"A concussion is nothing to laugh at. They can cause serious brain damage. How many have you had?" he asked, irritation once more creeping into his voice.

"Only a couple," I bluffed and he looked at me unbelievingly, crossing his arms. "Fine, around 10 in my life, mostly minor." I admitted. "Are you insinuating that I have brain damage?" I muttered, offended.

"No I'm not, though at this point you probably should. 10 concussions in what 20 years? How old are you?" he asked.

"20, oh, geez how young do you think I am?" I blushed a bit, "I mean, please, continue but I'm definitely not 20. Try 27." I corrected. He eyebrows shot up.

"Really? Huh. I guess I'm not as good at guessing age as I used to be." he muttered.

"Yep, 27 years old, no boyfriend, no prospects, practically an old maid." I muttered quietly.

"I wouldn't go that far." he grinned, with that knowing glint in his eyes. My head shot up, and I blushed deeply, wondering how he could have heard me.

"Your friend is a nurse?" he asked, sitting down on the chair facing me.

"Yes, she works at Mount Sinai. She'll know for sure how bad the concussion is. She's nursed me through them before."

"So this is a common occurrence?" he smirked. My eyes narrowed.

"Yes, boy scout, this happens fairly frequently," I snapped out and sighed realizing how much of a bitch I sounded like. "I'm sorry, that wasn't very polite. I shouldn't be snapping at you. You've been nothing but a gentleman this whole time." I murmured, rubbing my arms to get some warmth back in them. Blue Eyes reached over and grabbed the afghan from behind me, tucking it around my arms.

"Apology accepted," he smiled, unfolding the blanket around my feet, "Didn't you have a coat?"

"I forgot it at the store. I'll get it tomorrow-" he looked at me pointedly, "Sorry, I meant the day after tomorrow," I corrected, remembering my promise to Stella. Blue Eyes finished laying out the blanket and looked up at me.

"Feeling warm enough?" he asked, looking up at me from his position kneeling on the floor. I smiled faintly.

"Yeah, nice and toasty. Thanks for all of this. Really. I know I wasn't exactly cooperative, but I'm glad that you took the time to take me home. I know you must need to get going back to your girlfriend or whatever. You must have left her in the store." Blue Eyes smiled.

"Real subtle Charlotte," he murmured and my eyebrows shot up, realising that he had heard me earlier as well. "No, I didn't leave anyone in the store. I was in there alone."

"A normal young guy in a craft store by himself?" I asked, "I've gotta be honest, we don't get many of your kind around there." Blue Eyes chuckled softly.

"I was looking for some sketch pads. I draw in my spare time."

"Really?" I asked, a hint of disbelief in my voice.

"Yes, really. It's been a hobby of mine for quite a long time," a hint of sadness passed over his perfect features.

"Huh, I never would have guessed. I suppose you learn something new every day." Blue Eyes grinned and looked up at me, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Yeah I suppose so," he agreed. His eyes were the most perfect shade of blue, light and almost gray, like the Hudson on a sunny day. He really was very handsome; perfect features, well trimmed blond hair and full lips that drew my attention almost immediately. I focused on them, feeling dizzy once more, but certain that this time it wasn't because of the concussion. I leaned forward a little bit, unaware of my own lips parting softly. I looked up, seeing his eyes once more and noticing them focused on my lips. He leaned toward me a bit as well, close enough that I could brush my fingers along his jaw.

"Charlotte?!"

We both sprung apart, Blue Eyes standing immediately. I looked up at the door to see Steph standing there in full coat and scarf. She rushed over, looking at me closely and checking my pupils.

"Steph, I'm fine, seriously!" I turned and she grabbed my chin to keep me still.

"Your pupils are fine and your reaction time is alright. Where's your pain at, 1 to 10?" she asked in her scariest nurse voice.

"About a 2." I lied.

"She's lying. She admitted earlier that it was around a 7." Blue Eyes muttered. Steph looked up, surprised to realize that there was another person in the room. "Feel better Charlotte," Blue Eyes said, "Make sure you call your boss. Stay safe." he smiled, but it didn't reach his blue eyes, before turning abruptly and heading for the door. I stared after him until the door closed, at which point Steph screamed in excitement.

"Ow, Steph concussion, remember?" I replied, clutching my head.

"Oh, sorry Charlie! I just-You know who that guy was right?" she asked.

"Blue Eyes? Not really, I didn't catch his name." Steph rolled her eyes.

"How oblivious can you be?! Don't you watch the news anymore? That was Steve Rodgers! Captain America walked you home!" My eyes widened as I stared up at the door again. Blue Eyes was Captain America. Huh. You really do learn something new everyday.

AN: So, what'd you think? Please review!