Blinking slowly as he processed her words. It took him a few seconds longer than most people might to decipher if it was an insult or not.

“... I love kittens.”

Steve Rogers, the one person everyone seemed to measure heroism by. He would love to meet him of course.

To his luck, life decided to throw John Walker on his way. That had been enough “Captain America” for a lifetime.

“I’m... not sure. I just… try to help them. When I can.”

“Uh… thank you. You're too kind.”

His face went a little pink. Unsure what to do with the compliment.

“Yeah, actually. It’s… uh… me and my friend’s turn to pick up some groceries.”

Shifting again, eyes darting around as if he expected Walker to materialize.

“..He’s probably ditched me again."

He blinked, caught off guard by the directness of her gaze. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Words felt clumsy as always.

“ I—I’m Bob... Uh... Pleased to meet you. ”

He glances at her with stilted movements of his neck.

"Y-yes... you?"

“No… not exactly. More like… a temp. Sort of an on-call… thing. Definitely not the full-time hero type.”

He couldn’t process the fact that his own wallet was literally in her hand. He even reached to his own pocket to double check. To make sure it wasn’t also there... and, of course, it wasn’t. +

He sheepishly glances around. Rocks forward and backward on his feet.

He turned, startled, to see a woman smiling down at him, as if she had just materialized from the air itself. His voice came out small, almost apologetic.

“Uh… hi.”

“I… I’m not really famous. Not like that. people just... see me sometimes. Maybe in the news... I’d rather not be recognized, actually.”

He gave a vague gesture toward the skyline, toward the new Avengers Tower.

“I live around there. I guess you can call it a club.”

He sheepishly glances around. Rocks forward and backward on his feet.

“Uh--”

He tensed slightly, instinctively pulling his hand back to his side, trying not to look rude.

“Here? Yeah. Kind of.”

His words stumbled over themselves. Head scrambled to keep up, trying to figure out what was happening.

“You might’ve, um… seen me before. From the papers maybe.”

Bob blinked at her hand for a moment as if it was a foreign object. Then he stilled his restless fingers and reached out. His grip was hesitant but gentle.

“Nice to meet you, Ma'am."

"Oh. that's nice..."

Silence reigns over for several long, uncomfortable seconds. He is not cut out for small talk.

"...I'm Bob."

He scratched his neck. False alarm. She was not one of his imaginary friends.

“I… sorry about that. I, uh... sometimes I get it wrong. I talk to people who aren’t there. So I had to make sure.”

He glanced left, then right, as if she might actually be talking to someone more qualified for… whatever this was. Maybe there was some other cooler Bob behind him...

“ erh… are you talking to me? ”

He sheepishly glances around. Rocks forward and backward on his feet.