Author's Note: This is a ten sentence challenge I based around the spoiler Emily VanCamp gave about her character Agent Thirteen/Sharon Carter at Comic Con in San Diego.

~*~somethin's growin' out of this that we can't control~*~

(baby, i'm dyin')

it's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it/so tell me/why can't i breathe whenever i think about you

"why can't i ?" - by liz phair

~*~neighbors~*~

It was an assignment Sharon knew she never should have accepted [keeping tabs on Captain America, see how he was adjusting], but she couldn't resist; so here she was in Green Pointe, Brooklyn right across the hall from him, as his neighbor Kate.

~*~conversation~*~

"Sing Sing Sing's okay," She hummed the old Benny Goodman song along with him while they were waiting for the elevator. "But I've always been partial to I Know That I Know You."

~*~laundry~*~

"Let me get that..." He started, reaching for the precariously balanced basket of clothes in her hands. "It's okay," She dismissed. "I got it. Unless..." Her hazel eyes sparked, lips curling in mirth. "You're pretending to help just to sneak a peek at my panties."

~*~blushing~*~ (author's choice)

The way his cheeks reddened and how he shyly ducked his head, stumbling through an apology made her heart stutter in a way it wasn't supposed to, and she could hear Fury's grim tone in her ear, "You are on a mission Agent Thirteen. You are collecting intel for S.H.I.E.L.D. that is pertinent regarding one of our most valuable assets. Don't forget that."

~*~signs~*~

He's warming up to her, slowly but surely; she can see it in the way he's letting more of his deadpan humor show [Captain America and sarcasm, who knew?], how 'Kate' sounds just a little lighter in his mouth, the way his eyes – so blue, it's startling – linger when she leaves or how she knows they're staring at her lips as she talks, sometimes daring to glance at the slope of her neck, but never any lower.

~*~cologne~*~

The elevator rattles and shakes before coming to a complete stop, sending her careening into his arms; his smell overwhelms her, crisp and clean, and it takes all she has to resist burying her face in the strong curve of his neck and inhaling.

~*~lawn~*~

Slightly damp blades of grass – wet from a fresh summer storm – feel good underneath her fingertips, as she looks out at the joggers, the tourists, families, horses and buggies, all meandering around Central Park; a head of golden hair she'd recognize anywhere catches her eye, and when he waves – his smile warm and blinding – she feels her stomach twist, but smiles back – so real, Fury would be reminded of why she's one of his best – and waves.

~*~shave~*~

"A non-clean shaven Steve Rogers," She teases, seeing the five o'clock shadow creeping in. "I never thought I'd see the day."

~*~waffles~*~

"It's just breakfast, you know, to repay you for fixing my dishwasher." Her heart's somewhere near the soles of her feet, her Great Aunt Peggy's stories fresh in her mind, making her whole body taut and rigid. "It's not," She swallows thickly, a lump in her throat suddenly appearing. "A date."

~*~clippings~*~

She knows she's made a big mistake taking the mission, she's crossed lines no agent should ever cross, because now he isn't 'Captain America,' he's Steve Rogers who still holds out hope someday the Dodgers will move back to Brooklyn, who doesn't wear a helmet on his motorcycle but always makes her wear one, he tastes like mint and smells better than any man should; he's not just old, faded photographs her Great Aunt Peggy couldn't bear to part with, ancient press clippings of the fabled Captain America, he's everything he shouldn't be to her because Kate doesn't even exist and soon will have to disappear from his life.