A/N: First, thank you to all of you who have favorited/followed me as an author. After only one story posted, that's quite flattering. As I'm sure you noticed from the summary, this story doesn't particularly involve Bucky (though he may yet make an appearance). I was wondering what Steve would do after finding Bucky. It seemed unlikely that he'd immediately rejoin Fury et al, given that he brought down SHIELD as well as HYDRA. And then I remembered the flagpole scene in CA1, and I knew exactly what he'd do. He'd get a college degree. On the GI Bill. Please feel free to imagine this is set at the college of your choice, although a division one school makes the most sense for later events.

As always, I own nothing, except my OCs, but they're just wallpaper.

Steve took a deep breath and tried to settle his nerves. He had his books, his notebook, several pens, and his laptop. He had passed the entrance exams and been admitted without any favoritism based on the fact he'd saved the world and was friends with the man whose name was on the science building. Just because his high school teachers hadn't thought a working-class kid from Brooklyn belonged in college didn't mean they were right. Okay, he'd had to ask Bruce to tutor him on the math he hadn't studied in high school, but he could hardly be faulted for missing out on courses not offered in his high school in the 1930s. And he'd picked it up readily enough. Bruce had even suggested he consider majoring in math. He had fought HYDRA, the Chitauri, various terrorist organizations, HYDRA again, and his best friend (now working with his twenty-first century best friend to overcome HYDRA's conditioning and what Sam described as 'the most justified and severe case of PTSD, ever'), and won. He could handle college. Right.

He opened the door to the lecture hall, glad to see he was the first to arrive. He double checked his schedule to make sure he was in the right place at the right time: "Allies to Antagonists: US-Soviet Relations From 1945 to the Present", MWF, 8-9:15 am, Lincoln Hall, room 121. He found a seat in the center of the front row, conveniently located near an outlet for his laptop, just in case Tony had decided to drain its battery as a good luck prank. He set up his workspace, taking care not to impinge on the space the students that would be next to him would require. He then pulled out the required text on the Yalta and Potsdam conferences. He had read it before, and liked it, which was one of the reasons he had signed up for this class. The professor was the book's author. He opened it to the part he had always found most confusing - Churchill's 'naughty document' describing postwar power-sharing arrangements on the continent - and began to reread the section.

Professor Ellery Shawcross stopped short as she entered the lecture hall. She checked her watch. She checked to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. No, there was, in fact, a student in the lecture hall, prepared for class, indeed, well into the fourth week's reading assignment, a full half-hour before the class's already early start time. "Hello?" She cringed internally as her tone made the greeting a question.

Steve marked his place and looked up. He saw a small woman with cute features and overloaded arms. He jumped out of his seat. "Let me help you with those! Are you Professor Shawcross' teaching assistant?"

Ellery laughed. "Thank you, and no, this course isn't big enough to warrant a grader, much less a teaching assistant, but you're sweet to pretend I look that young. I'm Ellery Shawcross, your professor."

Steve put down the load that he had taken from her on the front desk. He offered her his hand. "Steve Rogers, ma'am."

"And now I feel old. I always do when you ROTC folks call me 'ma'am'."

"ROTC?" Steve hadn't run into the acronym before, and was quite confused as to what it might have to do with manners.

Ellery frowned. "Reserve Officer Training Corps? Sorry, it's just that the military trainees are the only ones, well, except you clearly, who call any of us ma'am or sir."

"Well, I was military. I'm not anymore."

"A Vet then? Well, thank you for your service. And that certainly explains your ability to commit to the early hours for this class. Between you and me, that's why I ask for this time slot. The slackers self-select out of the course and I don't have to put up with them."

"But don't high schools start earlier than 8?" Steve thought someone had told him that when he remarked at how early school buses seemed to be on the roads.

"Yes, but somehow, the students all turn into slug-a-beds, as my mother would say, the moment they hit a college campus. Is this your first semester here, Steve?"

"Yes, ma'am. "

"What are you thinking of majoring in?"

"A friend of mine suggested I consider math, but for now, I'm concentrating on the diversity requirements. I'm hoping something will jump out at me in the process. Isn't that how it's supposed to go?"

"That's as good a plan as any, and better than most. So, what other requirements are you getting out of the way?"

Steve pulled out his schedule. "Russian 110, Twentieth Century American Literature, Calculus 1, and Physics 110."

"You do like a challenge, don't you?"

Steve smiled. "Yes, ma'am, but I have friends who are willing to help me if I need it with everything but the literature. Actually, one of my friends has already switched entirely to Russian when he speaks to me. I'm not sure he's not cursing at me, but I hope to be able to figure it out soon."

Just then, the door opened again, and Ellery turned, delighted to have two early birds in the same section. Her face fell when the gorgeous newcomer looked straight at her original early bird, ignoring her own presence entirely. Naturally, the attractive, interested student had to be involved with someone. Not that she'd date a student, of course, but a former student, who wasn't that much younger than her own 31 years? Worth considering.

"Rogers, we have a situation."

"Tasha, can't it wait? This is my first class! It's over at 9:15, and then I'm free until Russian at 3."

"Sure, we'll just ask von Strucker to wait a few hours before he tries to level New York. I'm sure he won't mind. Wait, you're taking Russian? Pravda?" And then she switched into her native tongue.

"Nat."

"Nat."

"Natasha!"

She stopped speaking.

"I don't even start Russian until 3, and Bucky's already giving me the full immersion treatment. Could you just stick to English for now?"

"That depends. Are you getting in the Quinjet with me? Or do I have to get Tony and Sam to take you by hand?"

Steve sighed and turned to Ellery. "I'm really sorry about this. Could I stop by your office hours and talk to you about what I've missed?"

Ellery pulled a syllabus from a folder on her desk. "Fortunately, today's mostly procedural, so read this thoroughly, and yes, come see me, or email, if you have questions. Otherwise, I'll see you Wednesday morning."

"Thank you, ma'am. I apologize for missing class."

"Well, whoever this von Strucker fellow is, he doesn't sound like the type to enjoy waiting, but perhaps you could remind him that you're a student now, not a soldier?"

The redhead laughed. "With respect, professor, I don't think terrorists give a rat's ass if he wants to play student. They still want to own the planet. Coming, Cap?"

Steve had packed his things, so he picked up his bag, nodded to the professor and followed the Black Widow out of the building.

She had parked the Quinjet on the Quad. Steve couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. Fortunately, most of the students were still in bed, so it was unlikely many had noticed its presence. Maybe he still had a chance at being a 'typical' student.

Ellery went through the motions of her first lecture, which was mostly housekeeping anyway, preoccupied with thoughts of her early arrival (and departure). He had certainly implied that he was no longer in the military. He was even wearing civilian clothes, unlike most of the ROTC kids. Yet clearly the government still had the ability to call on him in a crisis for some reason. The woman had called him "Cap"; a reference to his rank - captain? It was a fairly common abbreviation. And he definitely knew her.

Two days later, Ellery was pleased to see her early bird was once again in his seat before she arrived.

"I take it the world didn't end, then." She greeted him with a cheery grin.

"Uh, no, ma'am." He stood and went over to help her with her things again.

That was when she saw the damage. One of his eyes had been blackened, and one of his ears looked like something had chewed on it.

"Oh my! Are you all right?"

Steve forced a self-deprecating chuckle. "It looks worse than it feels, I promise."

"Shouldn't you be in a hospital?"

"Oh, no. I spent too much time in hospitals as a kid. I try to avoid them as much as possible."

Ellery filed this piece of information away, and switched the subject. "So it looks like you'll have two helpers with your Russian?"

"Actually, Nat's ordered Bucky not to speak to me in Russian, so he's stopped. Something about giving me a Polish accent, I think. But Nat's a native speaker, so she assures me she has neither an accent nor bad linguistic habits, whatever she means by that." His mouth tilted into the most appealing smile at the memory. "However, I did talk her out of speaking only Russian to me, if only because it didn't make sense operationally."

"Operationally?"

"Well, I doubt first semester Russian is going to cover 'RPGs at your 10 o'clock', for example. And I would prefer that neither I nor my teammates end up dead because I didn't understand a warning."

"So you're still in the service then?"

"Not...exactly."

"Cap..." a new voice entered the room.

"Seriously, Stark?" Steve's tone was more amused exasperation then anything else. "I know you graduated from college before you bought the planet. Could you at least let me get through a class before whatever you think has to happen this instant actually happens? I mean, you're a great friend and all, but trying to get an education here."

"Nonsense, Capsicle. If you really wanted an education, you'd be studying engineering, or with your drawing skills, maybe architecture. Anyway, not the same stuff you've been reading since you defrosted. Plus, I was on campus. They want a new wing for the library or something."

"Okay, well, that's...great. But I have class now. If you want to meet back here at 9:20, we could get coffee like normal people."

"Cap. Cap. Cap. How many times do I have to tell you? I'm a billionaire genius philanthropist playboy..."

"Better not let Pepper hear that last one, Tony."

"Fine, ex-playboy-turned-devoted-boyfriend, and you're what, a hundred and two on your last birthday? Neither of us fits anyone's definition of normal."

"Speak for yourself. I'm just a kid from Brooklyn. Everything special about me came out of a lab."

"Why must I be surrounded by people who turn my own words against me?"

"OMG! You're, like, Tony Stark!" The first of Steve's classmates had, apparently, arrived.

"Er, a common mistake, we do look a lot alike, but no, definitely not Tony Stark, not at all. I'll see you later, Steve. For that coffee we normal people drink."

"Sure." Steve watched Tony nearly flee the building, and then turned back to Ellery. "Sorry about that. Actually, I suspect you'll meet all of my friends eventually. They seem to think this whole college thing will corrupt me or something. Half them are actively trying to prevent that, and the other half are actively encouraging it. So they're all probably going to find a reason to check out the experiment. And since they're quite busy during normal business hours, well, you're likely to bear the brunt of that, I'm afraid."

"And you?" Ellery was truly curious now. Her student the soldier clearly had friends in high places.

"I've learned not to discount anything, but I doubt what goes on here is really all that corrupting. After all..."

"Um, excuse me?" Another student had arrived.

Both Steve and Ellery turned to the newcomer.

"Are you Captain America? Because you totally look like him. Can I have your autograph? Are you guest lecturing when we get to clandestine services?" All of the girl's words sort of blended into one jumble because she was speaking so fast.

Steve managed to parse out their meaning, though. It was a reaction he'd seen before. His vision of a 'normal' collegiate experience went out the window. Maybe he should have gone with MOOCs. He bit back a sigh and took the questions in order. "Yes. Sure. No, I'm taking the class, not teaching it." He ripped a piece of paper from his notebook. "What's your name?"

"Julie. My name is Julie"

Steve inscribed a brief, personalized if still impersonal, message on the page and signed it. He handed it to the girl, and added, "I'm trying to get a study group together, Tuesdays at four in the library's third floor conference room, if you want to join."

"Oh my gosh! I am so there! Thanks!"

Ellery watched the entire exchange in stunned silence. Of course he was Captain America. Which made Nat...a deadly assassin, on top of being his Russian tutor. She didn't remember any Avengers named Bucky, though. The Howling Commando that died during the war had been called Bucky, but that made no sense, since that Bucky wouldn't have spoken Russian, not to mention the incidental fact that he was dead. Which was too bad, because he had been a stone fox. Something else to ponder.

As Julie found her seat and the rest of the class rushed in, Ellery asked Steve if he wanted her to announce his study group's time and place.

He nodded.

"Good morning, Ladies and gentlemen. Today, we will be discussing the origins of the Cold War in allied relations, but first, I have one announcement. Steve has arranged to have the library's third floor conference room at four o'clock on Tuesdays, so that a study group for this class can meet there. Anyone who would like to join him is welcome."