Hello, my lovelies! I've been working on this story for a while and decided to go ahead and start posting while I'm a few chapters ahead. I hope you all enjoy and please leave a review and tell me what you think!

"I still hold onto a small childish hope that there's someone out there in this crazy, wild world so completely, utterly meant for me even the stars with sigh, 'at last!', in relief at our meeting."

-Beau Taplin

''Toto…I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore,'' Hera thought as she groggily blinked open her dry scratchy eyes and glanced around her unfamiliar surroundings.

Her head was pounding, her mouth dry, and her entire body ached. It was a normal feeling after a night of drinking, but she couldn't help but to register everything else that was not normal as she gradually woke up. The plush mattress underneath her did not belong to her, she didn't own the silky-soft blankets tucked around her, and the fluffy pillow under her head felt like a marshmallow.

Hera was also naked and there was someone spooning her.

She finally blinked the sleep out of her dark eyes, squinted around blearily, and felt her heart drop. Just as she feared, she was not in her home.

With the soft light creeping from under the curtains, the young woman could make out the outline of a dresser, nightstand topped with a small simple lamp that was switched off, and a closed door which she assumed was the closet. Another door leading to the bathroom was cracked an inch. The dark blue curtains were drawn tight over the window, something her stinging eyes were grateful for, and the beige walls were bare. The room seemed larger than her entire apartment and she stared around the room a bit longer trying to place her surroundings but failing. She uncurled her legs in a stretch, her muscles deliciously sore, and her grogginess dissipated between one heartbeat and the next. Hera turned her face to bury it in the white fluffy pillow to hide her groan as she realized what her situation was. A soft snore had her tensing as she remembered that she was currently being aggressively spooned by a stranger.

A heavy arm was draped across her wide hips covered by the blankets, warm breath brushing against loose strands of her long black hair, and a hard body was pressed tight against her back. The man, and it was clearly a man by the feeling of something pressing insistently into her lower back, was thankfully still deep asleep. His big body was warm, pumping out heat like a furnace, and she was half tempted to fall back asleep. Confusion helped her wake up, though, and she racked her brain trying to remember what happened the night before. All she got was a headache. She reached up to rub a hand over her face, hoping to wake herself a little more, and held in a sigh. Still trying to remember, she glanced down her body, and saw the man's strong bicep curled around her and his long fingers tangled in the blankets.

Vague memories started to bubble up to the surface, now that she was fully awake and staring more clearly at her unintentional roommate, and she could barely hold back a grimace. She had gone out the night previous in a sad attempt to take her mind off work, seeing as she had no plans the following day or the rest of the night, and had brashly decided maybe she should and get back into the dating game. She may have already been tipsy at that point. She stumbled across a man at the bar, tucked away into the corner so he was barely visible, and deemed him safe enough for harmless flirting. He had been almost shy at first, looking at her with worried bright blue eyes, but his concern changed to amusement when she unloaded her long stressful day's events. He almost looked grateful when she was honest, if maybe a little crass, with him and what she was looking for that night. There was something about the way he looked at her, as if he wasn't sure to be amused or worried at her sad attempts at flirting, that made her decide to put out all the stops to convey to him they should totally hook up together.

It started out as a game, her making horrible pick-up lines to see if she could get a reaction, which led him to awkwardly do the same. A harmless game that left them laughing into hands to stifle the noise, leaning close to each other when they got odd looks from the other patrons, and she didn't remember when their game went from 'harmless' to 'serious'. Hera had eventually told him what she was looking for, a night to be close with someone without having to do much thinking and gave him the option for her to stop or leave. He didn't make her do either. Hera got the impression that he almost seemed just as desperate for human contact, for the intimacy shared between two people, as much as she was. She figured they both were looking for something in each other that night. She then recalled, sometime later in the night, the way they stumbled into an apartment while keeping their lips locked together as hands roamed.

Everything went lopsided and fuzzy after that.

She dimly remembers him checking constantly if she was sure, if she just wanted to go to bed instead, and she remembered dragging him down to the mattress with her. Hera squeezed her eyes shut, mentally berating herself for her impulsiveness, and slowly turned her head to glance at the man over her shoulder. She finally got a good look at the man who had flirted back with her shyly despite her coaching him in a game of 'pick-up'. He had fair skin, a strong sharp jaw, and a straight aristocratic nose. Golden hair stuck up in multiple directions, impossibly long lashes brushing against high cheekbones, and plush pink lips added a boyish look to his handsome features. She noted his broad shoulders and thick biceps partially hidden from where the thick white blankets were buddle around them both.

He was a prime example of a man in his prime and she had to lay her head back down to stop her head from spinning.

'This is not good…so not good,' she thought as her heart started to steadily pick up pace.

Coming to the decision to leave before he woke up, she didn't need any awkward small talk, Hera steeled herself after a few moments of mental pep talk. She ever-so-slowly slid from under the man's arm, keeping an eye on his sleeping face, and eventually she slid to the floor. The shock of the cold wooden floors had her biting back a curse. She gently bundled the blankets under his arm, hoping to keep him fooled, and slowly stood up. Her aching muscles protested, a few joints popping, and the warm air brushing against her bare skin had her located her clothes in a heap by the bedroom door and quietly tugged them on with her eyes glued to the still sleeping man.

'He looks so peaceful,' she thought, noticing the way his big shoulders rose and fell with each breath, and the relaxed expression he wore.

Once Hera was dressed, her shredded undergarments tucked into her knapsack she used as a purse with a sigh, and she grabbed her brown slouch boots. She couldn't help but notice the empty water bottles littering the floor, next to what looked like protein bar wrappers, and spotted more empty wrappers in the wastepaper basket by the large bed. A small flair of guilt burned in the pit of her stomach at the clear sight of their 'midnight snack', but then he made a soft noise in the back of his throat and she was halfway down the hallway. Her bare feet didn't make a sound as she crept to the front door, not bothering to look around the rest of the apartment, and she eased the door open. She finally sighed in relief once the door closed behind her.

Hera slipped on her shoes and took the stairs two at a time. Once she made it to the lobby, ignoring the strange looks she got from the receptionist, she bolted out the door into the cool autumn air. She ran as fast as she could, her sore muscles complaining and sensitive eyes stinging in the dim light of approaching dawn, but the panic budding in her chest at the prospect of being chased increased with each step kept her going. She pushed past people already milling around despite the early hour, some squawking in indignation and others openly gaping at her, and she knew she must've look like a mess. Her black hair slapped against her lower back and face in a tangled curly mess, the stale scent of alcohol lingering on her wrinkled clothes, and she could only guess what her face looked like.

'First thing…take a shower, second…get a check-up,' she thought as she took a sharp turn and almost plowed into a glaring passerby.

Hera always prided herself on keeping a level head, even during the times when she wanted nothing more than to stop thinking about everything so much, and the sudden lapse in judgment could mean disastrous results for her.

Especially since drunken one-night stands usually didn't take into consideration little things like protection. She finally turned onto a street that looked familiar. A few more turns and she was finally trudging up the creaking stairs of her apartment. She wheezed and grumbled the entire way to her door, still scolding herself, before reaching the door to her home. She shoved open the front door, the old hinges squealing in protest, and the sticking door jamb creaked ominously. The stale smell of mothballs and mildew had her wrinkling her nose.

"River?" she whispered loudly, closing the door with of her foot as she tried to catch her breath, and her anxiety only heightened when she didn't get an answer from her young daughter.

"River?" Hera said again, more loudly this time, and she stumbled her way towards the back rooms.

She pushed open her daughter's door, dark eyes scanning the small room almost frantically, and realization struck her when she spotted her toys strewn across the floor.

"Right…sleepover," she said with a loud sigh, relief washing through her, and she sagged against the doorframe. She honestly wouldn't know what to say if River had been home, no doubt worried when she hadn't been home the night before, and she silently thanked River's school friends for whatever party they threw. She stumbled back towards the kitchen, her heart finally beginning to slow to a normal rhythm, and Hera took a deep steady breath. She cracked a window, trying to get some fresh air into the room, and she let the cold breeze calm her frazzled nerves.

'What a morning,' she thought to herself as she turned to walk towards the kitchen.

Hera glanced around as she kicked her boots off under the table. The dingy apartment was cramped, the yellowed paint was peeling off the walls, and stained linoleum cracked. She closed her dark eyes and easily pictured the rest of the apartment. Thinning carpet, third-hand furniture, the rumpled mess of her blankets on her bed from where she decided it wasn't worth the energy to fix, and water damage on the ceiling of the small bathroom. The walls were thin enough to hear her neighbors shout drunkenly at each other and she has installed her own deadbolt with a lock and chain for good measure. It was the only thing she could afford now, and she counted down the days until she could move and raise River somewhere better. Shaking herself, she peeled off her clothes as she wandered past her bedroom into the small bathroom, and dimly wondered if the man had woken up to an empty bed yet.

"Don't think about it, Hera," she chided herself, turning on the shower, and looked over her body in the chipped mirror over the equally chipped sink as the water heated.

The detailed tattoo of Medusa, with dark snakes curling around her beautiful but stern face, depicted on her upper bicep and shoulder looked menacing under the dull lighting. Hand-shaped bruises were pressed into the pale fleshy skin of her hips and thighs, hickies seemed to litter every inch of her body, and she felt herself blush at the intimate marks. Her silver piercing in both nipples caught the light as she continued looking over herself, making her remember the man's fascination with them when he finally got her naked, but she forced herself to push those memories aside. She took out the simple silver stud earrings from her triple pierced ears, massaging the sore lobes, and she placed her knapsack on the sink to fish out her ruined undergarments. The black lace was in shreds and she sighed morosely as she tossed them in the trash under the sink. She was about to hop in her shower, the water now warmed enough, when her phone chimed with a message.

She dug around until she pulled out her phone, a frown curling her lips as it chimed again, and saw it was her friend, Poppy. The phone let out three more consecutive beeps before Hera could read the messages. Her eyes immediately found the picture of the news article, the title cropped out to fit the picture better, and a sudden sick feeling twisted in her gut. It was a picture of her, from last night, wrapped around the blond man. Her face was slightly obscured by her long curly hair, and from the man's broad shoulders where he dwarfed her five-foot-two-inch frame, but she could tell it was her. The next photo was of the headline.

'Not so noble,' it read, making her frown deepen, and she read the next message which was a link to the actual article.

As her dark eyes scanned the words of the article, they widened until she knew they were bugging out her head, and she felt her heart start pounding in her chest again. Her headache worsened as her thoughts raced, trying to stitch together the events of the night before, and panic had her hands trembling until she had to put the phone down. Apparently, her one-night stand wasn't as innocent as she thought. Someone had taken a picture of them when they were leaving the bar, they had been wrapped around each other as they kissed, debating on whose apartment to go to. His had been closer and the paparazzi took advantage of their inattention.

They took her picture because, unknown to her, she was making out with Captain -fucking-America.

She slept with Captain America and now it was splashed across every news station and magazine outlet because he didn't find it important to tell her who he was.

"That son of a bitch!"

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