Hello! This story is going to be composed of a series of one-shots, each focusing on a different doppelgänger. Some of the doppelgängers are going to meet (like Steve Rogers and Johnny Storm in my Double Take one-shot), others are going to meet someone else's doppelgänger without that teammate present (Tony Stark and Pepper Potts meet Carl Casper and Molly), and still other chapters are going to slightly alter real-world events (was Jeremy Renner really in the "Trouble"music video or was it Clint Barton on a mission?). I'm doing my best to mix it up so you're not reading the same plot for every chapter. I hope you enjoy!

A/N: Double Take, when the Avengers meet the Fantastic Four, is technically the first chapter in this series. I won't be including it for redundancy's sake, but it can be found on my profile if you're interested.

Four months after waking up from suspended animation, Steve Rogers was still amazed that people could be so oblivious to the world around them. As he sidestepped yet another person who wasn't paying attention to where he was walking, tuned into his music blaring audibly through small white earbuds, Steve couldn't imagine why anyone would want to block out the sights and sounds of Boston. When he was younger, his family had never had the funds to venture far out of Brooklyn, so when he'd finished an ultra-classified assignment with Coulson's team three days early, he'd requested the remainder of the week to drink in the sights.

As more of the white-headphoned people passed, blissfully ignoring the architecture, the greenery, and the history, Steve shook his head sadly and pushed his way through the traffic, his ears unencumbered, taking in the short snippets of conversation he heard around him. One man must have been on the phone with his wife for he was hastily scribbling a grocery list on his arm, another was reassuring their boss she was in the elevator and she couldn't believe it had stopped onevery. single. floor. on the way up to her office, a man was discussing meeting his friends at the game tonight, and yet a fourth must have been in a serious fight for she was shouting 'Colin' repeatedly at the top of her lungs.

As her voice got louder and louder, Steve stepped to his right, allowing the incensed woman to pass him by. To his surprise, the heel clicks stopped beside him and a woman huffed out "Finally!" He didn't recognize her voice and was turning to see her face when a slender hand connected with his cheek. The blow wasn't hard but the surprise was enough to whip his head around slightly.

"How dare you!" the woman shouted. Steve worked his jaw for a quick second to ensure no serious damage had been done before turning to face his assailant, a striking brunette wearing a loose-fitting blouse and sleek dress pants. She was shaking one manicured finger in his face, clearly in the middle of a tirade.

"Colin Shea, after all we've been through—all the moments we shared—I can't believe you would just leave me at my sister's wedding. It was bad enough explaining to my family why you bailed on me, but then I had to sit at the singles' table with my cousin Bradley—who isn't really my cousin, but you already knew that—and he kept making lewd faces at me throughout the toasts. My mom spent the rest of the wedding introducing me to every. single. man there, wait staff included—available or not! Which I guess would have been fine if you'd had a good reason for not showing up….But, you never called me back."

She paused, her eyes flashing wildly, and allowed herself to catch her breath. "I don't know why you deserve this," she began again in a softer voice, "but I'll listen. What's your excuse? Why did you disappear off the face of the earth?"

"Pardon me, ma'am, but I think you have the wrong person," Steve began slowly. "My name is Steve Rogers. I have no idea who this Colin Shea is."

The woman's eyes widened in horror. "Oh my god," she breathed, her hands flying up to her mouth. "I'm so sorry! I just…I saw you walking and I assumed. I thought I was over you but you were standing there and the betrayal, the anger, the hurt, it was all there again. I can't believe I slapped you. Can I make it up to you? There's a Starbucks next door. Whatever you want, on me, and we can get you some ice for your cheek."

"Ma'am, there's no need for you to do that…"

She reached out and gently laid her hand on his forearm. "Please? I feel terrible."

Realizing he wasn't going to win, Steve conceded. "If you insist."

She nodded and led him to the nearby coffee shop. She instructed him to save them a table and hurried to wait in line.

"I never caught your name," Steve began when she returned with their drinks.

"Christina." She held out a towel full of ice. Steve obliged and held it to his face though he knew the mark was long gone.

"Well Christina, thank you for the coffee."

The woman's face reddened. "It's the least I can do. I'm really sorry about all that. Colin just…well, you don't want to hear about it."

"Actually I wouldn't mind," Steve replied, his gut clenching at the thought of how hurt this woman must actually be for her to lash out like that in public. This Colin character sounded like a real gem. "It'd be good to know what he's like in case I run into someone else who dated him."

The woman toyed with the zarf encircling her coffee cup. "He's not all bad. He's pretty tech savvy so he volunteered to help me out of a little misunderstanding with my previous ex. When it was over, we did the nice restaurant, the expensive dinner, the whole nine yards. I thought he was different, someone I could trust. Then he made all these promises and I never heard from him again."

This wasn't a new revelation for Steve. Back in his day, some of his classmates had been known for taking advantage of women, treating them improperly. Steve had done his best to help out when those situations had arisen and had earned more than one black eye because of it.

"I'm so sorry," he offered, knowing the words were woefully inadequate.

She waved her hand. "It's water under the bridge at this point." Then she paused. "The similarities between the two of you are incredible. Other than the clothes that is. He had like four T-shirts in his closet, each of them plastered with some sort of innuendo. You seem like a much nicer guy. I don't know of anyone else who wouldn't have called the cops when some crazy lady slaps them and starts screaming at them in the street."

"It was a misunderstanding," Steve reassured her, feeling a cool drop run down his cheek. He pulled the dripping ice pack away from his face and carefully laid it on the table.

A crisp beeping tore through the silence and the woman checked her watch. "I need to apologize to you again. I'm late for a meeting," she began as she hurriedly stood up, lifting her oversized purse onto the table and rummaging through it.

Steve sprung to his feet as he had been raised to do.

"I can't believe this," she muttered. "First I attack you then, as I want to make it up to you, I need to bail again. I'm so sorry about all this craziness." She pulled her cell phone from her bag and met Steve's gaze. "If I would have taken a second, I'd've seen that there was no way you were the same guy. Please, stay here for as long as you want. I'm friends with the barista so order whatever else you need."

"I actually have a previous engagement myself," Steve picked up his coffee and pushed in his chair. "Thank you for the coffee though."

"It was the least I could do," Christina said as they walked toward the door.

As she hurried off toward her office building, Steve paused outside the door to the coffee shop and considered his next move. If he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than to pay Shea a visit and set him straight, but he was pretty sure that would be considered stalkerish, even though he had the best intentions in mind. Still, he couldn't leave knowing there was a man here, who looked like him, stringing women along. Sure, in the modern world his actions might seem a bit chauvinistic—he was confident without a shadow of a doubt that Christina could take care of herself—but he just couldn't shake his upbringing: men were supposed to treat women with the utmost respect. He wasn't going to stand for anything less.

His mind made up, he pulled out his phone, quickly located the online equivalent of the Yellow Pages and searched for Colin Shea. There were two results: one was listed along with Mrs. Shea, so Steve assumed that wasn't the man he was looking for, and the second lived in an apartment complex that wasn't too far away, according to Google Maps. Steve looked at the travel time then consulted the digital clock on his phone before deciding he definitely had enough time to make a quick stop at Shea's before his flight left.

Steve stood outside Shea's apartment building for longer than he should have, debating whether or not he was going to go through with this. Then, the main door swung open and a man exited, followed happily by a medium-sized dog. The man didn't even so much as glance at Steve, but kicked back and caught the door with his heel, forcing it open again. The dog took this as an invitation to run back inside but the owner tugged on the leash and rasped, "C'mon Bandit! Just a quick walk today!"

Steve nodded his thanks and hurried to catch the door before it fell closed. Once inside, he looked back through the clear window and read the nameplate he had missed on the way in, noting the last name Shea in apartment 6A.

Steve turned back around and scanned the wide entrance, spying a staircase in the far corner. He quickly ascended the stairs and was on the fifth floor landing when his highly sensitive ears overheard a woman screaming "No, don't!" from the floor above him. He raced up the final flight, pausing at the top, straining to hear in what direction the sound was coming.

Then he heard a mild scuffling followed by a loud screech emanating from the apartment to his right. Concerned for the woman's safety, he crashed into the door, knocking it off its hinges. In that brief moment, Steve spotted the number and realized this was the very apartment he was searching for.

As the door flew open, Rogers saw a fully-clothed woman lying on her back in the center of a small living room. An equally-clothed man hovered over her, his back to the door, his lips on the side of her neck and his fingers moving dexterously up and down her side, focusing on a patch of exposed skin above her hip where her tank top had ridden up. In the background of the dimly lit room, what looked like wrestling was playing, but the fighters were wearing full masks, painted with bright colors. One even sported a cape.

The man jerked into motion the moment he heard the door bang open. He dove for the coffee table, reaching under it and pulling out a Glock, which he promptly trained on Steve. The woman shrieked again, this time in fear, and huddled behind the man.

That gesture in itself was fairly telling. Steve instantly threw up his hands, feeling, not for the first time, that it had been a mistake to come here.

"We're calling the police," the man said, his voice level as he clicked off the gun's safety. He nudged the woman with his elbow and she slowly grabbed her phone from the tabletop. "Unless you're out of my apartment in the next three seconds."

"I think there's been a misunderstanding," Steve replied slowly.

The man, who must have been Colin, looked mildly amused. "Do explain."

"I heard screaming and I wanted to make sure everything was alright."

"How'd you get in the building?"

"I live on the second floor, just moved in yesterday," Steve lied with practiced fluidity—Natasha and Clint had taught him well.

"Bull. I run background checks on everyone who applies to live here and set up Google alerts the moment Jackson hands you your keys."

Steve shrugged, in an attempt to showcase practiced indifference. "I was in the building and I heard screaming," he amended, not wanting to get into the whole reason he had stopped by.

"I repeat my question."

"A man with a dog, Bandit I think its name was, let me in."

"I'll believe that. He's dumber than a box of rocks. But that still doesn't explain why you wanted to get in the building in the first place."

"It was a mistake. I really shouldn't have come here."

Colin's grip on the weapon tightened. "Really not what I wanted to hear. Since you clearly have no intention of leaving, step into the light. Closer…there you go. Now, pull out your id—slowly—and toss it over here." Steve did as he was told, lobbing his S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue ID to the center of the room.

Shea didn't even look at it but passed it to the woman, who gasped the moment Steve stepped into the light from the kitchen.

"Colin, he could be your twin!" she exclaimed as she checked the ID, her head bobbing furiously.

Colin reached behind him and snatched the ID. He held it in front of his face, next to the barrel of the gun, so Steve was still in his line of sight.

"You kidding! He looks nothing like me, Ali," he said over his shoulder. "You see that hair? It went out of style before my parents were born."

He examined the ID for another moment before continuing, "Steve Rogers, S.H.I.E.L.D., huh? What are you doing in Boston?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah, honesty would be good, right about now."

"I was finishing up an assignment and ran into one of your ex-girlfriends. She told me you two were dating, then you made her a bunch of promises like going with her to her sister's wedding and never called her back."

"So you ran over here to check me out?" Colin clarified, an amused smirk on his lips.

"I don't like people who think they can use others and get away with it."

"I didn't use her; we shared a romantic night and she left in the morning." There was a short pause. "Which ex are we talking about anyway?"

"Christina," Steve replied through gritted teeth.

Shea shook his head and shrugged.

"Tall, dark curly hair, blue eyes," the soldier continued, feeling his blood pressure rise.

"Jimmy Choos?"

Now it was Steve's turn to shake his head. "I don't know who that is."

Colin snorted. "Above your pay grade, agent." He thought for a moment then said, "I thought her name was Tiffany."

"Colin!" Ali exclaimed, slapping her boyfriend on the arm. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"This was a long time ago, Ali. Before we were…us. I promise I haven't been with anyone else since your sister's wedding! Since before your sister's wedding!" he clarified when Ali's glare increased in intensity.

Weddings seem to be a common theme here, Steve thought as Colin took his eyes off Steve to glance over his shoulder. "Ali, I promise. It's just you and me now."

Steve began to slowly lower his hands but froze when Colin whipped around and refocused on his target.

"You mind putting that down now?" the soldier tilted his head at the weapon.

"Not quite," Colin's expression was deadly serious again. "Who's your handler? Who would I call to confirm?"

"Agent Phil Coulson."

"Coulson," Colin said thoughtfully. "I've heard about him. Good guy. Thought he was out of commission since that whole 'aliens in New York' thing—glad to hear he's back on his feet." Colin glanced at the ID once more, examining it from multiple angles, then thumbed on the Glock's safety and placed it on the floor, still within reach and the barrel still pointed at Steve. Ali took this as a cue to lower her phone and click off the display.

"You're Captain America," Shea said after a moment, phrasing it as a statement, not a question.

Steve kept his expression blank. "What gave you that idea?"

"You burst through four reinforced deadbolts and a chain lock without breaking a sweat. Either you're juicing, which the lack of pupil dilation, extreme perspiration and erratic heartbeat contradict, or you have super strength. I'm banking on the latter."

Steve hesitated.

"That's what I thought. Your secret is safe with us, Captain," Shea stated, throwing Steve a slightly sloppy salute.

"Captain America?" Ali parroted, her eyes wide. Then she turned to Colin and swatted him on the shoulder. "You're holding up an American icon! You could have gone to jail for that!"

"Don't tell me you weren't afraid when he burst into my apartment like that, interrupting our reenactment of El Luchador v. Thunder Misterio."

"We all know I was winning until you started cheating. You know how ticklish I am!"

"Thunder Misterio wins in the end; you know that! You had to go down fighting!"

Steve, having clearly been forgotten, was content to just bow out of the conversation. Before he left though, he had one final bit of business to attend to. The door he had broken through was hanging from its bottom hinge only. While Colin and Ali continued arguing, Steve located the top hinge pin, straightened it with his hands, righted the door and slipped the pin back through the hinge.

"Wow," he heard Ali whisper. "He really is super strong. Did you see the way he straightened out that bolt? With his bare hands?"

"Hey, I could have—" Colin retorted but Ali just patted his shoulder patronizingly.

"Sure you could have, sweetie."

"I'm just going to go now," Steve muttered.

"Wait," the soldier heard flapping and turned to see his ID flying towards his face. He snatched it effortlessly out of its arc as Colin stood and walked over to the newly aligned door. "I don't mean to brag but I'm really good with the techy stuff. If you need anything, you know where I live." Colin extended his hand and, after a moment, Steve shook it.

"Thanks man," Colin continued. Steve was slightly confused by this gesture but Ali, who knew Colin's father was a police officer, understood it completely and she felt her heart swell with the selfless gift Colin had just offered.

"I'm not sure what you're thanking me for," Steve replied. "In fact, I think I owe you an apology before I go."

Colin waved his hand dismissively. "You don't need to. That was the old me—I'm not that guy anymore." He tilted his head in Ali's direction. "I've changed."

Steve read the man's facial expression and body language, and was certain Colin meant what he had said. "I believe it."

As soon as Steve had left, Colin closed his newly broken-then-fixed door and examined the locks. "Going to need to get two new deadbolts for sure. I think I can straighten out the other two." He paused. "You think I could sell these on eBay? 'Captain America tested deadbolts. Utterly useless. Sentimental value only.'"

Ali stood and walked over to the doorway. "And here I was thinking you were growing up a little, making that offer to Captain America."

"You're the one who is always complaining that I never pay for anything."

"Selling those is not the way to get there."

"You sure?" Colin grabbed Ali around the waist and swung her onto the couch, where he promptly picked up where he had left off.

"That's cheating!" Ali gasped when their lips finally parted. "You really look like him you know," she stated as he began tracing kisses down her neck.

Colin pulled away and quirked one eyebrow. "Is this really the time for that conversation?"

"It was just an observation."

"We look nothing alike."

"Tell you what: you dress up as Captain America for Halloween and see how many people get the two of you confused. If I'm right, you buy me a new blender."

"What happened to the old one?"

"You sacrificed it last weekend for authentic margaritas."

Colin's grin widened. "But wasn't it worth it?"

Ali fixed him with a firm look.

"Fine. But if I'm right and no one mistakes me for him, you have to be my date to Bandit's engagement party."

"Oh no not—"

"Nope, 4A is no longer trying to marry his dog. He's found a nice pure-breed poodle for his best friend, instead."

"You're on," Ali grinned, pressing her lips against Colin's, knowing this was a bet she was definitely going to win.

Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought!

Next up: Tony confronts Clint Barton about a certain music video he found floating around the web.