Disclaimer: I do not own Captain America (the comic, the movie, etc.) or any of the characters. I only own my OC Art.

Foreword: Well, I've been meaning to write this for a while and I finally got the guts to type it up and post it! It may be dreadfully bad or surprisingly okay, that's up to you guys to decide. I have used the name Artemesia in another fic before, but they have no correlation what-so-ever.

So, this takes place while Steve is doing is performance tours around the U.S., just to give perspective for time and what not. Well, that note aside, enjoy!

1. Fate or Dreadful Coincidence?

New York City, New York

The nervous sips of the pungent scotch were what first caught Art's blue-green eyes. A man with dirty-blond hair sat at the bar inside the brightly lit restaurant, sipping a glass of scotch whilst glancing nervously at a manila colored card on the bar top. The second thing that caught her eye was the tension in his shoulders and the frown pulling deeply on his face. Art, always being one to make sure someone was safe and emotionally sound, stepped across the room, heels of her saddles shoes clicking on the sticky floor, and carefully sat beside him.

" Excuse me," She said softly, placing a hand on his forearm. " Are you alright?" His pale blue eyes flew to hers and he stared at her a moment.

" I, uh… I'm… yes… no… I'm not," He stuttered out, shaking his head frantically.

" What's bothering you?" She asked, noting the pristine looking uniform he wore.

" This." He slid the card on the bar to rest in front of her. She recognized it immediately. It was a medical card soldiers filled out in order to enlist. Had Art not been female, she would have been first in line to enlist, but unfortunately, that wasn't an option for her. She could be a nurse or a secretary, sure, but she had no medical experience and could barely organize her closet. She'd been assisting nurses in a local military hospital by running forms and papers back and forth through dimly lit halls, and had seen many of the cards like the one that sat on the bar.

" This passed, you can go fight. That's great," She told him, a tad confused. He turned his eyes on her again, and he set his glass down, shaking his head sadly.

" I-I made a mistake, you see? I'm beginning to realize how much I don't want to fight. My father wanted me to enlist, but truthfully, I just want to stay here. I don't want to fire a gun. I'm not a fighter in the long shot! I don't want to die… I… I just… I can't go!" He told her, running shaking hands over his face.

Art put a comforting hand on his back and said,

" Well…" She looked down at the name on the form. " Arthur, I can't tell you how much I'd like to be in your place right now. If I could go over and fight, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I'm Artemesia Knoll, by the way." He looked over at her and nodded one, sniffing slightly.

" Arthur Kensington." His eyes lingered on her a moment before they landed back on the sheet. " You… you said you would fight if you could?" Art laughed ruefully and cupped her chin in her palm. Brushing a strand of brown hair from her face, she nodded.

" Unfortunately, I have a few problems with achieving that dream. First and foremost, I'm female. And… that sort of rules out any chance at all. And if we have to list at least one more problem, I'm not strong. I'd get beat up within the first day," She said with a small laugh, running a hand through his hair.

" Do you see me? I'm tall and skinny as a stick. In fact, I'm sure I'd break if I tripped and fell," Arthur laughed, tugging on his shirtfront. He stared at her again and bit his lower lip a moment. " But… I have… an idea. An insane idea that you'll say no to, but I'm still going to say it. If you want to fight… and I don't and can't… then… would you like to take this card…" His fingers nervously drummed the medical card on the bar. " And… and fight under my name? You can change the height and the hair color and the address; my idiot of a doctor wrote in pencil instead of pen. I'd be forever grateful, Artemesia. Not to mention this would give you an opportunity to do what you want, however illegal it is."

Art's eyes landed on those of the man siting at her side. He looked so hopeful it would make anyone's heart ache. He clearly would go to any measure in order to escape the military, and was willing to talk about and seriously consider breaking so many laws with someone he'd only just met in the middle of a crowded restaurant. At that moment, though, it felt like they were alone. Like the people were on mute and frozen, and the residual sounds of clinking glasses and artificial laughter were no longer surrounding them. Her fingers began to twitch slightly, and her heart slowly sped up. Her lower lip slid under her front teeth and she began to think…

Arthur cast his eyes downward and nodded.

" I understand. It's too dangerous and we'd probably get caught—"

" I'll do it."

A pause.

" I'm sorry, what?"

" I'll do it, Arthur. I'll take your place. I'm probably insane, my friends would kill me, so would my aunt… but I'll do it. I'll take any chance I can get to do this no matter how illegal," She told him, smiling at him. The biggest grin Art had ever seen appeared on Arthur's face.

" Dear Lord, thank you!" He pulled her into a hug, causing the two to stand. She found she was almost his height, just a few inches shorter. She'd never thought herself very feminine looking. Her jaw was slightly more defined than the soft looking jawlines other women had and her cheekbones were slightly higher than average, angling her face in an artfully strong way. When it came to finding dresses or blouses, she thought her broader shoulders a curse. Her long legs carried her to walk in long strides and her feet weren't dainty. Her aunt tried to convince her she looked every bit of feminine as the next girl, but she ignored all her relative's protests. " You're saving my life!"

" And you're giving me a gift—a chance to do what I want," Art said, smiling as she returned the hug.

" I'll give you my uniform; I still have my street clothes I can change into. You have to be the nicest stranger—acquaintance—I've ever had the fortune to meet." Laughing a bit and nodding in agreement, she took another glance at his card, noting his year of birth.

" Fancy that. We're both twenty-three. I don't know if this is… fate or some sort of dreadful coincidence!"

" I'd say both. Here, give me a moment," Arthur said, patting her shoulder with an almost giddy smile, leaving to go change in the bathroom.

It slowly began to sink in as Art sat back down. What had started out as a quick bite to eat before returning home had turned into the biggest, most life changing event in her life. She did have a tendency to break rules, but this was the biggest rule—law—she would ever break. Sliding long-fingered hands into her shoulder-length locks; thoughts began to run through her head.

Aunt Florence will have my head when she finds out; so will Jenny and Carl. And Kenneth… he'll probably just… go along with it. He's only five after all. She smiled at the thought of her brother. He's going to think I'm playing a game with him. She and her brother, Kenneth Knoll, lived with their Aunt Florence, their father's sister, ever since their parents died in a car crash four years prior. Their father had been in the military once and had told her stories about his experiences, which had been one of the first things that had sparked an interest in being a soldier or joining the army. It was when the Second World War started up and began to descend into full swing had she seriously considered how much being a soldier was on her mind.

A stack of folded clothes were set on the bar beside her, a now extremely casual looking Arthur sitting on the ratty leather-upholstered stool beside her. A green plaid shirt tucked into black pants made him look his age. He smiled softly at her.

" I'm sure you can find some shoes that'll fit. I… I just cannot express how much this… this means to me," He told her, patting the folded up tan fabric. Art returned his smile and nodded, still slightly lost in thought. " When you've gone over to… wherever they'll send you, if you ever need to talk or write to someone, I'd gladly accept your letters. My address is on that card, should you decide to write. And…" He dug another folded up form from his pocket and set it atop the uniform. " These are forms with any other information you might need. I was set to leave day after tomorrow; they seemed pretty urgent about all this."

" Thank you. I'll write to you, I promise," She told him with a smile. She gathered up her newly acquired items and stood up, nodding to him.

" I wish you luck, my friend, and thank you, again, for saving me from this situation. Stay safe," Arthur told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. Exchanging one last smile as they walked to the door, they parted ways down the darkened New York street. Art hugged the uniform to her chest and could hardly help the smile that pulled onto her face.

OOOO

Sliding the top button through its hole, Art sucked in a long breath. She'd taken the entire day perfecting what was going to be her new look—her new identity. She'd cut her hair and carefully combed it into a proper looking style; she cut her brother's hair and found it difficult to try and get it right on herself, although she thought maybe they'd have a barber to fix it. She'd used a role of bandages to tightly bind her chest to make it appear flat, which was only helped by the fact that her shirt was slightly baggy, even when tucked in. She could feel the dog tags against her undershirt, and she thought over her new name. Arthur Kensington. Arthur wouldn't be hard to get used to. Kensington? That could be a challenge.

With a final sigh, she slid on her jacket and hat and peered at herself in the mirror. The clothes were slightly too big, even with the bits of mending she did. She would have to make a point of grabbing a pair of men's reading glasses, since she needed them to… well… read. Slinging a rucksack onto her shoulder and snatching up two letters, she slowly walked to the door. Her aunt was asleep, and Kenny was probably secretly reading the very first Captain America comic under his sheets. Slowly moving to his room next door, she stepped inside and saw her assumption was correct. Kenny, using a flashlight, was reading a comic, leaning up against his pillows.

" Kenny?" She asked. He looked up and stared at her a long moment.

" Art?" He asked in slight confusion. " Why are you dressed like that?"

" Look, Ken, I need you to keep a secret for me, okay?" She asked. Sitting on the edge of his bed, she put an arm around his shoulders. " I've been given the chance to go fight, like Captain America. I know that I'll be gone for a long time… and… I know that I shouldn't be going, according to law, but you can't let Aunt Florence know until she asks where I am. When she does, give her this, okay?" She held up a letter, which had 'Florence' written on the front.

" Oh… You're going to go fight Nazis?" Kenny asked quietly. Smiling, Art pulled off her hat.

" Yeah. Protect America and all that jazz. So, buddy, can you keep your older sister's secret?"

" Yeah. I can."

" Tell you what, I'll write you, every week, whenever I can. And, if I run into Captain America, I'll tell him you say hi, okay?" Kenny nodded eagerly and she laughed softly. " I'm going to have to go… stay good for Aunt Florence, alright?" She pulled him into a very long, tight hug, pressing a kiss to his soft brown hair. His small arms were wound around her neck and she knew he was probably completely confused. As she tucked him back into bed, setting his comic aside, she left a letter in the pages as a bookmark a few tears running down her cheeks, she shut off the light saying, " Love you, Kenny."

" Love you too, Artie."

OOOO

The sun was rising brilliantly over the city and Art stared at the card in her hand. Some of the information had, indeed, been altered. The height was adjusted, as was the hair color; Arthur's was blond, hers was a shade of rich brown. The address was changed too; if she didn't live through the war, she'd like for her family to know. A deep chill did run through her when she thought about the whole not surviving idea. It was one of the biggest risks. And no one wanted to be killed. But she was taking the risk. And, as she walked towards a large group of soldiers, her new company, she cleared her throat and prepared to lower her voice when she spoke.

Art adjusted her rucksack and looked up at the morning sky, and at the city she was saying goodbye to. She sucked in a breath and joined ranks with the other soldiers. Life was about to get interesting.

Afterword: I finally got it done. Don't know how good it is or if I should continue, but, there it is. I have so many ideas for everything later on in this story, how to start it gave me hell though. I've been wanting to write this story for a LONG time, and finally took time to sit down and plan. Well, let me know if you liked it, if you'd like me to continue. I appreciate you took time to read it, though! Thanks!

It'll get better, I promise! Stick around and see!

~Mary