A/N: Okay, so this is a story I randomly thought of and I thought it would be a cute little thing. This story will mainly consist of fluff with no major plot for a few chapters. So, yeah.

Steve sighed woefully, his sketch pad and pencils strewn across the table in the coffee shop he was sitting at. Steve didn't bother to look, but he knew Agent Barton was sitting in the corner watching his moves like, well, a hawk. Director Fury had let Steve out on his own; let him live in his apartment and come and go as he pleases with a few conditions. One of those being that Agent Barton had to watch him as he adjusted to this time period, lest something go wrong.

So, here they were. It was a tradition for Steve. Every Firday night he would come to this coffee shop, he liked it. The subtle bustling of the customers and a lot of people just sat at a table and read. Though, a lot of people would be on something that Clint had informed him was a computer. He had one that was called a "desktop" in his apartment, curtosy of S.H.I.E.L.D., but he refused to touch it. He wasn't ready to dabble in that part of the future yet.

He glanced around the quaint little place, trying to find something that piqued his artistic interest and that was when he saw her.

She didn't look like the typical "modern" girl he had been seeing come in and out. She was actually dressed for the weather, in stylish dark brown books with a scarf and a beanie adorning her head. The other girls just walked around in short shorts and something called a halter. The woman he was observing couldn't be any older than her mid-twenties and had a book perched precariously on her knee. (As she was sitting in one of the cushy arm charis.)

There was something about her; whether it be the dark chocolate of her curls, or the soft-looking olive-tinged skin she had, she had caught Steve's attention. He reached over and picked up his pencil once again. He gazed at the girl in fascination as he began to draw. The Captain was only half worried he'd be caught as she looked immersed into her reading. He did however, jump slightly when Clint sat himself across from him. But, he didn't let him distract him enough to stop in his art.

Clint watched him curiously for a minute before clearing his throat to get the soldiers attention. Steve sighed and looked over at Barton, trying to pull himself out of his thoughts about how he would draw her eyes when he couldn't see them.

Clint raised an eyebrow in question. Steve, understanding his meaning, blushed a bright red shook his head.

"Why not go and talk to her, Cap?" The Agent inquired.

Steve seemed to have flushed even more when he replied, "I don't think so, Clint. That's just not how we were in my time, just because I'm not there anymore doesn't mean I won't act like I'm from here either. I'm not just going to go up to her."

Clint sighed. "You know, Rogers, girls in this time are used to it. Especially a pretty girl like that." With that, Hawkeye got up and went back to his other seat and job, quietly observing.

About 20 minutes into Steve's masterpiece, he ran into a snag. He couldn't sketch her face without actually seeing the entire thing. So he sat there, and began to stare woefully again. After about 5 minutes of his moping he decided to approach the woman. Clint had said that woman in this time were used to being approached and all Steve wanted to do was get a better look at his subject.

Steve rose uncertainly in his chair, picking up his sketch pad and pencils as he began to walk over to the woman. When he reached her, he simply took a seat in the plush chair that was opposite her own. He sat there awkwardly for a bit before she looked up.

Captain America had to stifle a gasp.

She had gray storm eyes. Gray that bordered on electric blue and they were framed by thick, black lashes. She had her eyebrows raised and honestly looked a bit angered at being interupted.

"May I help you?"

Steve chocked. He had no idea how to reply to this, even though he had been practicing the conversation in his head on the way over. "I- I mean, I- I mean that-" She interupted him.

"If you'll be so kind as to tell me exactly why you have disturbed me in my reading, it would be pretty fucking nice."

Steve flinched at her choice of words. "Ma'am," he had regained his composure, "I only meant to say that I come here a lot and I come to sketch. I was looking around for something to draw when I saw you and you seemed like a good candidate. So I've been- erm- observing you. The only thing is, is that I couldn't finish your face because you were too far away."

The woman blinked. And blinked again. She cocked her head to the side before she replied, "Oh- I mean, sure. I'm assuming you're asking if you can sit there. I apologizing for being so rude, but, this is New York."

Steve nodded appreciatively and flipped his pad to the drawing. "I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Rogers."

She smiled smally before returning to her book, and said "Caroline."

A/N: I hope you liked!