Steve was still getting used to his new 'celebrity' status and all that entailed, i.e: the paparazzi, the frenzied clicking of cameras, the stalking. The whole experience was making him feel like some sort of rare and fascinating animal, or something Tony and Bruce studied in their lab. It was exhausting, and, to be honest, more than a bit annoying, Steve had been on a nice normal, peaceful walk when he'd been spotted by one fangirl that soon became two, then three until he was being chased down the street by screaming mob of rabid teenage girls. In an attempt to avoid getting mauled, Steve ducked into a nearby open door and slammed the door behind him, and to his relief, the mob ran by, he was safe.

His relief, however, died when he realized that he wasn't as alone as he initially thought he had been. A petite woman in a pair of high black stilettos and a beautiful emerald dress was looking at Steve in confusion and no small amount of surprise. She had long black hair that lay in precise curls at her large breasts which made her pale skin become even more pronounced. Full, rosy lips were parted in shock and her emerald eyes (Steve almost got lost in those eyes) were wide with surprise.

The woman blinked up at him for a couple more seconds before her face went blank and she shook her head. Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at Steve as if he was a misbehaving child she was about to lecture him.

"Ne puis-je avoir un jour de la normalité?" the woman said with a huge sigh.

Steve shook his head in confusion. What language was she speaking?

She sighed again, then cocked her head to the side, a contemplating look in her beautiful eyes "Au moins, il est mignon," she murmured using the toe of her shoe to nudge Steve "Très mignon."