New York City was always in a rush, no matter the time or day, and its residents were rarely an exception. Becca considered herself more easy-going than many of them, but right now she was irritated. She surveyed the park from where she was leaning against a tree. Where the hell was Derek? She'd been waiting for almost half an hour already. She tilted her head to peer around the side of the tree, but there was still no sign of him. She shoved her hands into her pockets.

"This is bullshit," she muttered.

Well, if she was going to be waiting a while, she might as well find a place to sit. She walked back onto the path and followed it along, passing by a bench taken by a couple, then an elderly woman. The next bench had one guy sitting on it, whereas the one after was full, so she decided to stop. Plus, leather jacket man was kind of hot.

"Hi," she greeted. The man looked up, his blue-eyed gaze taken aback. "Do you mind if I sit here? The other benches are full."

"Sure. Yeah," he offered, gesturing towards the other end of the bench.

"Thanks."

Becca plopped down, pulling her purse onto her lap to take the weight off of her shoulder. She stretched out her legs in front of her and crossed her ankles. It felt so good just to sit. Of course, she'd feel even better if Derek showed up. Another sweep of the park told her that he hadn't. She dug in her purse for her phone so she could listen to some music, and then remembered that she'd left it in her apartment. Awesome.

Her eyes slid sideways to the man sharing the bench. He was focused on writing something in a small notebook. She knew that she shouldn't be nosy, but she was both bored and curious, and that was the perfect combination for nosiness. Casually, she leaned her head back to get a better view. No, he wasn't writing. He was sketching the park.

"That's pretty good," Becca noted.

He appeared to be close to her age, which was a little old for art school student material, so he must just be one of the many aspiring artists in New York. Actually, he could be a famous artist for all she knew. She wasn't really up on the art scene. He glanced up at her and back to his drawing, tilting it to put the sketch in a better light.

"Thanks," he responded.

"You're welcome."

As he hadn't tried to move the drawing away, Becca felt free to examine it more closely. She should have been more generous. The likeness was spot-on. He used all those techniques she vaguely remembered from middle school art classes, stuff like perspective and shading. There was one thing she noticed in particular, though.

"Not to trample on your artistic vision, but I think if you did the tree over there–" She gestured to the real tree, which hadn't been included in the drawing. "–it would really balance the sketch out. Of course, that's my completely unprofessional I-literally-can-only-draw-stick-figures opinion, so do feel free to ignore it."

However, he didn't dismiss her opinion. The pen he was holding stopped moving, and he eyed the drawing critically. He had a very grave expression, this guy. Becca understood that there were times when one needed to be serious, but she didn't count sketching in the park as one of those times.

"Smile, dude," she prompted. "It's just a park. I really have no idea what I'm talking about when it comes to art either. Here." She held out a hand. "Do you want me to draw something? I guarantee you that it'll make you feel great about your artistic ability. Although, I can do a pretty mean square." The corner of his mouth twitched up, and she grinned. "Much better." Well, the smile was a small one, but good enough. It was cute. She turned the hand that was already outstretched. "I'm Becca, by the way, and I promise I'm only obnoxious about half the time."

"Steve." They shook hands. He had a strong handshake, which Becca liked because that's how she gave them. "And I, uh, don't think you're obnoxious."

"Well, thank you." Becca laughed. "I wish I had my phone so I could get you to explain that to my parents, but apparently that is not meant to be." She tucked back a lock of dark blonde hair as the breeze blew it across her face and used the moment of silence to look over the park. Frustratingly, there was still no sign of Derek. "So, Steve, you sketch here a lot or just passing through?" she asked. He gave a bit of a shrug with both shoulders.

"I've been here a couple times. What about you?"

"Oh, I come here occasionally. I'm supposed to be meeting someone, but…" She pushed back the edge of her sleeve to check her watch. She sighed. "Yeah, they're really late." She dropped the edge of the jacket. "And here I am instead, so feel free to dazzle me so that I am quite thoroughly distracted in the meantime." She spread her arms invitingly.

His eyebrows rose. "So, no pressure."

"None at all." She grinned.

Steve's forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows drew together, either in an attempt to think of something dazzling or trying to find a way to put her off. Well, in any case, that struggling look on his face made it hard not to giggle. Poor guy, she was only teasing. Apparently, she'd gone and overdone it again. Nice one, Becca.

"Or, since I started this conversation, I suppose that's up to me to keep this interesting," she quickly offered instead, before he stressed himself out. "Um…Well, I can do this one thing." She set her purse on the bench and got to her feet. "Some people think it's kind of gross, so you've been forewarned."

Steve let out a breath that sounded like it was on the verge of a laugh. "Okay."

"All right. Here we go."

Becca wriggled her fingers to focus herself, staring at the railing along the outside of the park. Then, she slowly raised her arms until they were stretched straight up towards the sky. Now, here was the difficult part. She took a breath and relaxed as much as she could. She moved her shoulders, feeling a temporary pinch, and then it was gone and she was letting her hands fall backwards and swing around. Her arms had rotated a whole three-hundred-and-sixty degrees.

She'd been hit by a truck a little over a month ago, and this trick of dislocating her shoulders was about the only good thing to come out of it. She held out her hands by her sides and waved them in a 'ta-da' gesture. From his expression, she was sure that was not at all what he'd been expecting, but he still had that small smile.

"That was…" He hesitated, glancing up at the sky as he searched for a word.

"Weird?" she volunteered, dropping her arms.

"Yes – no."

Becca sat back down. "It's okay. I'm not offended."

"Well, I certainly can't do anything like that."

"Can you whistle?"

"Can I… whistle?" Steve repeated.

"Yeah, you know, whistling. Can you do it?"

"Sure, but that's nothing special."

"Well, I can't whistle, so I'm endlessly fascinated by people who can." Becca rested an arm on the back of the bench and leaned her head against the back of her hand. "So let's hear a few notes."

Steve shook his head, but it wasn't a refusal. It looked more like he couldn't believe this conversation was happening. Then, he began to whistle. He was great at it, but since she couldn't whistle herself, she tended to think that about everyone. At least, the notes didn't sound off-key. He didn't go on for long, and she clapped a few times when he stopped, causing him to let out that laugh-like breath again.

"Thanks, but like I said, I don't think that quite measures up."

She shrugged. "Hey, I liked it fine. Better than doing something–"

"Weird," Steve offered.

Her eyes widened with surprise. So this guy could be sassy.

"All right, mister." She crossed her arms. "I said I liked it fine, not that it was better than my trick."

"Sorry." The apology sounded sincere, although the lingering smile negated it a bit. Not that it really mattered, as Becca wasn't actually upset.

"Uh-huh. You'd better be." Becca glanced to the side and did a double take as she spotted Derek out of the corner of her eye. Finally. She pulled her purse strap back up over her shoulder. "Well, I gotta go, but it was nice meeting you, Steve."

If Steve was surprised by her abrupt move to leave, he didn't show it. "Yeah, nice meeting you, too."

"And remember not to look so serious while you're sketching," she added.

"Right. I'll remember."

Satisfied, Becca gave him a single wave of her hand and hurried off down the path to where Derek was waiting.

Author's Note:

Welcome to my first Avengers fanfic! There will be fluff, sass, angst, romance, and lots of other fun things. This is a short chapter just to kick things off, but expect more from here on out.

Steve has only recently woken up in the 21st century. This fanfic is starting about a month before the Avengers film, but we will get there. I'm taking a few liberties with the timeline.

As I mentioned in the summary, Becca will be developing an addiction, specifically to prescription medication (Oxycodone and Adderall). This will become more central to the story as the addiction progresses.

Rated M for substance abuse, language, canon-typical violence, and fonduing, er, sexual situations.

I very much appreciate reviews, favorites, follows, and all that good stuff.

Many thanks to my betas, michysminions and anselm0.