Brooklyn watched as Steve swam through the pool, his strokes strong and sure. She sat on the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the cool water, sunglasses perched on her nose to protect her eyes from the late Montana evening sun.
Steve ducked under the water, when reaching the end of the pool, flipping in the water, and going the other direction on his back, keeping just his face above the water. She appreciated the flex of his muscles under the water as he moved, as well as the fit of his swimming trunks. Despite the availability of it, he had passed up the tight spandex fabric swimming pants Kitty had packed for him, instead reaching for the looser shorts meant for the same purpose. She wasn't sure if it was due to his own comfort, or the fact that he didn't want to flash himself and his own rather impressive bulge in front of possible families.

Either way, she was sure she appreciated it.

He flipped over, ducking under the water and turning again, before popping up, and rubbing the water from his face as he made his way to her, through the water.
"Sure you don't want to come in?" He asked, as he came to a stop in front of her, pressing between her legs, and resting his arms on her thighs. "The water is nice and cool."
"I'm good." She told him, reaching out to comb his hair, scratching her nails along his scalp. "I can enjoy it, just fine, right here."

She kicked her legs a little, to demonstrate.

"We're here for the night." He reminded her. "All the amenities. Wanna sit in the hot tub? If you're too cold?"
"I'm not cold, Steve." She reassured him. "I just don't want to go into the pool."

He had been so excited, when they had signed in and paid for their spot for the night. The full amenities and access to the pool had been apart of the paid fee. They had plans to do their laundry, as soon as they left the pool area. She had wanted to do it by herself, while he was enjoying the pool, but he had wheedled and pouted until she had sighed, pulling out the bikini and slipping it on, before pulling on a swimming cover up over it. She had followed him from their RV, to the pool area, witnessing his happiness.

He hadn't been able to swim, he had told her, before the serum. He had gone, more than once, when you could swim in the Hudson, he grinned. But the waves always knocked him off his feet. Now, he could go, and go, and go, and have fun while doing it. There was something freeing, he mused, about being able to cut through water, when before the water knocked him around.

He had kept the grin on his face, as they walked through the gate. He kept the grin on his face as he pulled off the shirt, and set his shoes aside. He kept the grin on his face, as he stepped up to the deep end of the pool and dived in.

When he resurfaced, he had started trying to get her to come into the water with him. And she had resisted.

He was so happy, she didn't want to ruin it.

He shifted, placing his hands on the tile by her hips, lifting himself up to kiss her gently.

"I love this bikini on you." He told her, as he sank back down into the water. "It's very nice. Very form fitting."

"Kitty has a good eye." She agreed, reaching up to tug at the strap around her chest. "And it's covering."
"I am very appreciative of that."He told her, sliding his hands up her hips, to her waist. "But I think there's a problem with it."

"There is not." she shook her head. "It fits, it's a nice color. There's nothing wrong with it."
"It's dry."
That was the only warning he gave her, before he grabbed her, spinning, and tossing her into the water. She didn't even have time to scream at him, before she was sinking under.

She froze, her lungs suddenly screaming for her to open her mouth and inhale, the demand for air suddenly emergent.

The first thing she did, out of habit, was suppress her panic. Nothing was ever accomplished, by panicking. She had learned that early. Panic, and you died. Panic, and whoever you were up against won.

Once the panic was taken care of, the next thing she had to deal with was the memories that tried to slam in her and sink her back into the dark place of her past.

Memories of being shoved into dark pools, electrodes and wires attached to her body. Memories of being forced to swim for so long that every cell in her body cried out from exhaustion, feeling like she had inhaled more water than she had swam in. Memories of slogging through tropical muck, up to her armpits, her arms shaking from the extended strain of holding her weapons and gear above her head to avoid them getting wet, worried she would misstep, and her small body would disappear under the seething water, the weight above enough to pin her under, and no one would be the wiser.

Even as the memories slapped at her, trying to make her cry out from the past fears, she felt herself sink deeper and deeper.

That was the thing that people didn't realize about the enhanced individuals who carried the serum in their genes.

They didn't float.

They sank.

Her noted lack of fat to muscle ratio wasn't the reason. It was her very cells.

They were dense.

The denseness, the way they were stacked together and on top of each other, was what made them able to do what they did. Their bones were thicker, suppressing the normal breaks and cracks that could form from the hardest hit or fall. It made their wounds heal faster, so much so that the hickeys that Steve regularly chewed and sucked onto her skin was gone by the next day, if not sooner.

Letting the logic take hold, she relaxed her body, letting herself sink to the bottom, until her ass bumped onto the bottom. She fought the pressure against her lungs, the urge to inhale strong. Instead, she tucked her feet under herself, before kicking hard, shooting up to the surface.

She broke through the water, gasping for breath, only to sink immediately, water entering her mouth, as she dropped below again. She struggled to the surface, only to have a hand grab her arm, and she felt herself being hauled to the side. In the process of being moved, she felt the small waves of water go over her face, into her mouth, more than once.
Reaching up, Brooklyn rubbed the water from her face, coughing and spitting, clearing her throat and mouth of the chlorinated water.

Meanwhile, she could hear Steve's voice, frantic and apologetic, issuing words.
"Oh, fuck... shit. I'm sorry, Brooklyn." He was telling her, as he pulled her towards the edge of the pool. "Shit... shit... oh, fuck."

She sputtered again, drawing in a full breath of unobstructed air. "You didn't know..."

Steve was clearly beating himself up, but not enough to accuse her, apparently. "You said you go swimming, at the Marino's! That was what you were doing, last summer!"

She growled, before coughing again. "Jules goes swimming! I sit in my suit, and enjoy the sun!"
"So you're telling me you don't know how to swim?" He hauled her bodily through the water, helping her put her arms on the edge of the pool.

"NO!" she snapped. "I know how to swim! I just don't like it! Dammit! Christ! I used to have to spend hours keeping myself above water, while they did tests, Rogers! I just don't like water!"

He stilled against her, before he seemed to melt. "Oh, fuck, Babydoll... I didn't even think-"
"That would be a fine thing!" She turned to glare at him, before taking a deep breath, slowly letting it out, resting her head on her arm. "You didn't know. It's not your fault. Anyone else would have made the same mistake. You were trying to be fun, and encourage me to have fun, too. It's okay, Steve."

"I still shouldn't have just thrown you in." He rested his head against her shoulder. "Jesus... I watched you sink like a stone. You made no attempt to get back to the surface. I was just about to go in and grab you."
"It's better to sink to the bottom, first." She reasoned. "Then you can control your responses."

"Or..." He shook his head. "You can just try to get to the surface."
"An expend necessary air and energy." She disagreed. "Once you get to the bottom, you can generally shoot to the top."
"You sank like a damn stone." He argued. "Why..."
"We're dense, Steve." She rolled her eyes. "It's the cell structure. Haven't you ever had issue with it?"
She felt him shake his head against her shoulder. "No. I just... swim. I don't pay attention to if I float or not. I just... make it happen."
Brooklyn sighed, feeling better now that she wasn't really in the water. "Well, damn."

"You said you wanted to go into the ocean." His voice was small, as if trying to explain himself again.

"Up to my knees. Maybe a bit above." She informed him. "I wasn't going to go long distance swimming in it. I also want to see the underwater waterfall in Mauritius. Doesn't mean I'm gonna go snorkeling in it. Sometimes seeing something is just enough."

He huffed out a laugh, nodding. "Maybe for our five year anniversary, Brooklyn."
"If you say so." She replied. "There was also another reason I didn't want to come into the water."
"and what's that?" Steve's voice was soft.

"This suit wasn't meant to actually go into the water." She turned her head, grinning. "I think it's too loose now. I'm worried if I get out, I'm gonna fall out of it."

Steve stilled against her, before raising his head, shock written on his face. "What are you talking about?"

"The suit... is not meant to go into the water. It's a fashion bikini. Just for show. Not utility." She grinned wider. "As such... it's really loose over my hips and tits."

He looke alarmed, before raising his head higher, looking around, as if trying to see anyone looking at her. "I think you're okay."
"Steve." She groaned. "I need you to get out, and grab my swim wrap. I'll met you over by the stairs. Okay? Then... you can play in the water, as much as you want."

"I think I'm done." He informed her. "We still wanted to do laundry today, while we still have time."

She nodded, shifting to rest her arms more fully on the edge of the pool, the cool water lapping at her. "The issue remains. I have to get out, eventually. So... are you gonna help me? Or am I gonna end up flashing someone."
"Not on my watch." His voice was firm. "Hold on. Stay right here."
He pushed off the edge of the pool, swimming towards the stairs, slowing down as he got closer, letting his lower half drop, and waded through the water to the stairs. He climbed out, rubbing his face and hair, giving his head a shake, and going over to where she had left her cover up. He picked it up gently, before walking over to her, crouching down.
"Gimme your hands." He instructed, holding his hands out. "I'll pull you out. We can do it quick, and make sure you're covered before anything falls apart. Or out."
She sighed, reaching up and letting him wrap a hand around her wrist, doing the same to his, making sure her grip was secure, before doing the same with the other hand. As soon as she felt his grip on her other wrist, she was being pulled up out of the water.

The heat difference between the water and the dry summer air was distinct. Not unwelcome. Even as she came out of the water, she felt the cups of her bikini start to slip, the knots that were delicately tied, and barely sewn, coming apart. Brooklyn let go of one of his wrists as she gained her footing, slapping that arm across her chest, her breath inhaling sharply.

"Damn." Steve muttered. "That was close."
He let go of her wrist, picking up the dropped cover up, draping it over her shoulders.
"Is that gonna be enough?" He asked, worry in his voice. "I don't want you to be exposed."

"I should be fine." She assured him, keeping her front close to his, as she slipped first one arm, then the other into the cover up, making sure to keep it pressed against herself, until she could keep it close and tie it up. "I'll just run back to the RV and change."
She wrinkled her nose, realizing she had just been in a chlorinated pool.

"Maybe do a quick wash, too. This can't be good for my hair."

He grinned, leaning down to kiss her cheek gently. "I'll go with you. I could wash mine as well."

"No." She shook her head. "You stay, have your fun. Swim some more. Enjoy the water. Just because I suck, and I have issues, does not mean that you can't enjoy yourself. Stay."

He took a deep breath, before blowing it out. "I'm kinda over the swimming, right now. Possibly drowning my wife, trying to be fun kind of sucked the desire for it out of me, at the moment."
He held up a hand.

"Not to say I wont want to, later. Maybe before we leave, tomorrow. But right now? I'm done. Let's go back to the RV, wash off the pool water, then take our laundry to wash it. And maybe discuss why you're wearing a fashion bikini, instead of a regular one."

She blinked. "Because it looks good?"
"But it's not meant for the water." He pointed out, taking her hand, and leading her to where they had left their shoes and towels. "So, what's the point in wearing something to the pool, if it's not meant for the water? It's like wearing an evening dress to a knife fight."
"I've done that." she grinned, bouncing on her toes a little. "It wasn't meant to be a knife fight, but it ended up being one. So, yes, I've worn an evening dress to a knife fight."

He groaned, throwing a towel over his shoulder, bending to pick up his clothes, before taking her towel and throwing it over her head. She giggled, pulling it off, holding it to her, slipping on her sandals as he began leading her out of the pool area.
"Again, not my point." He said, clearly exasperated. "What I'm talking about, is it's basically just... bikini shaped fabric. Right?"
"Right." She nodded, adjusting a foot in a sandal before it felt right. "Because I had no intention of going into the water. You're forgetting that."
"Then why agree to go to the pool with me?" He asked, sighing.

"I told you, to go by yourself. You begged, and pleaded, and pouted for me to go with you. You said you wanted me there. I figured, I would sit on the edge of the pool, which I did... and put my feet in. Again. Which I did." She waved the hand holding the towel. "What I did not think was going to happen, was my beloved, tender, gentle, darling, adoring husband, grabbing me and throwing me in!"

Steve groaned again, his head dropping back. "So this is all my fault? I thought you had normal bathing suits!"

"I do." She nodded. "I have some. Kitty packed some very, very nice ones. But...and I know this is hard for you to comprehend, being such an idiot, so I know I'm going to be repeating myself, I had not intention of going in the water."

He fell silent, the rest of the walk back to the RV, his jaw flexing occasionally, until he stopped in front of the door, reaching out to open it, holding it for her, as she began to climb up the steps.

"So you wore it to be pretty." He concluded.

"Yes." She paused on the steps, turning slightly to look at him. "I wore it to be pretty. And because I thought you would like looking at it."

He flexed his jaw again, before exhaling heavily. "I'm sorry I ruined it, by throwing you into the water. I didn't know, but that doesn't matter. Because you looked so damn pretty in it, Babydoll. I really liked looking at you in it."
"There." She reached down, patting his cheek. "Was that so hard? And here I was worried it would take you forever to learn the training I wanted you to."

His eyes widened. "Was this one of those things wives do?"

"No." She grinned, jogging up the stairs, reaching for the ties to her cover up, tossing it aside, as she kicked off her sandals, heading for the back, and the shower. "I just figured it was a good time, seeing as you were a bit remorseful for nearly drowning me."

She heard his grunt, followed by his heavy steps and the slam of the door. She began almost running to the back, reaching behind herself for the connector that kept the bikini top on her body. As soon as it came loose, she threw it over her shoulder, hearing it slap into Steve's face.

"Brooklyn! The blinds aren't down!" He protested, following her. "People might see your body!"
"So what?" She challenged, ducking around the bed, and into the bathroom, turning to face him, grinning. "What are you going to do about it?"

He crowded her in the bathroom, pressing her against the shower door. "Oh, so many things, Babydoll."
"Then get to it, Rogers." she ordered with a grin, standing on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, bringing his face down to hers. "We have the laundry to do, still."

*****

Brooklyn sat on the sorting table, holding the cards close, looking at her husband.
"You're bluffing." She told him, raising an eyebrow.

"Am I?" He asked, mimicking her. "Are you sure?"

She considered her cards again, before nodding. "Yup. Bluffing."

"How much you willing to bet?" He asked, shifting his position, leaning against the table, grinning at her, his cards held negligently in his hand. "Make me pay, Babydoll."

She frowned at him, looking at her pile of pennies, before pushing the entire pile into the betting pile, nodding. "All in."

He looked impressed. "You think you got me?"

"I know I got you." She informed him, satisfied. "You just have to admit it. Cause you are bluffing. You ain't got shit."

Steve nodded, pursing his lips, lifting up his cards to look at them. "I shouldn't encourage you, you know." He turned his head to look at the dryer, where their clothes were merrily turning over and over. "But in the interest of letting you win, and because our last load is almost done drying, I'm gonna fold."
He set his clothes down, shaking his head, reaching out to push the little cart towards the dryer.

She snorted, reaching out to grab his cards.
"No." He intoned. "You don't get to look. I folded. You win. By default."

"I win, cause you don't have anything." She corrected, watching him. "Cause you can't bluff."

"I can bluff." He told her, just as the buzzer on the dryer went off. He grabbed the door, opening it, and began hauling their clothes out and into the basket. "I've bluffed a lot of times."
"Not with me." She scoffed, watching him.
He turned, shutting the door, pushing the cart over to the spot next to her, lifting the clothes on the counter, beginning to fold them carefully. "Not that you're aware."

"Please!" She laughed. "When the hell have you bluffed with me?"
"The start of our relationship." He informed her. "I knew I was gonna marry you. Kinda right off the bat. Well, close to it. I knew I was gonna make you my wife. One way or another." He paused, straightening the lines of a folded shirt. "Maybe even the moment I met you. Maybe."

"I pulled a knife on you." She reminded, reaching over to snag a few of his socks, pairing them and rolling them together. "And I tried to take your eyes out."

"Well, no. Not that time. When you came over and messed with me, in the club, with Sam watching. Which... by the way, you said you never gave private dances. But you offered me one." He raised his eyebrow at her.
"I was messing with you!" She laughed. "I would have sent another dancer. Well, once I got your money."

"Ah. Bait and switch." He nodded, grinning. "There's my cunning little Babydoll. Yeah. I would have been pissed about that. I mean, there were some nice looking gals there, that night. But you were the only one who got my blood really pumping. Imagine my irritation, when you were the one we were looking for. Never hated having to do my job, or what I saw as my job, as that night. Prolly why I came at you so hard."
"And you were." She pointed out. "I felt that erection, the entire time. Granted, I didn't want to mess with it, then... now? You can press that against me, anytime you want."

"Good to know." He grinned, folding her underwear gently. "Cause I plan on doing it, as often as possible, Brooklyn Rogers. So, it's a good thing we're on the same page in regards to that."

He turned, moving their half full laundry basket closer, putting some of the folded clothes away.
"I like this." She commented, grabbing more socks. "I mean, I liked doing it in the apartment. But I really like doing the normal stuff with you, as well the other stuff we do."
He nodded again, pursing his lips. "Well, again... good thing. Cause the normal stuff? It's kinda gonna happen all the time. Laundry is part of the natural part of life."
"I never did laundry, before leaving." She commented. "Everything was done for us. I had to learn to do everything, kinda on my own. Mrs De Luca was a blessing. She never judged me, at least... not openly. That little old lady showed me how to plunge a toilet, Steve. And she never said a word to make me feel bad about it. Laundry? She had Hams show me, but still. Between her and Kitty, they kept us fed, until I figured things out. Kitty was still sending food over, until you kinda moved in on me."

"I figured it was something like that." He grabbed a pair of jeans, shaking them out and making sure they were right side out, then began to fold them. "I saw some of the meals, in the freezer. But I wasn't aware of how much they helped you get on your feet. Well, like that. I guess... I guess I just took for granted that the little things that people learn growing up, you had learned."

"I learned how to palm a weapon and pick pocket a man while dancing with him." She tilted her head. "Household chores were one of those things that HYDRA didn't think was important. Like cooking, and keeping house. I mean, Papa taught me a bit. Our cells were kept as clean as he could keep them. Showering, bathing, personal care... that was him, as well."

"You mentioned it had been a while since you attended to him, until after the attack on Fury." He commented, his voice light. It was a sure sign he was trying to not be pushy or be overly emotional. She had been with him long enough to know the signs. "He didn't look... too great, at the bridge, either. To be fair, we had both been rolling around on the ground and running through smoke and debris."
"I washed his hair, when he was rewarded for Fury." She grabbed a shirt, his, and began folding it. "But I hadn't had a chance to cut it in a while. I know he was rough, after the bridge. My concern was making sure he was alright, rather than his personal bathing being tended to. I wish we had known we were more secure, after everything, to help him clean up, before he sent us away. I gave him a hair cut, in Poland."
Steve remained silent, continuing to fold clothes, seemingly focused. Then he cleared his throat.
"How much?" He asked, his voice still light.

"To just under his jaw, or there abouts." She paused, stroking the soft cotton of the shirt. "I wanted to make sure he was going to be able to maintain it, of a sort. I know it's not going to be one of his main concerns, while... doing whatever he's doing. But I wanted to make sure he was going to be able to... I guess, pass?"

She set the folded shirt aside, grabbing a few more items, laying them on her lap as she folded.
"I also made sure he was as outfitted as I could make him. Sleeping bag, clothes, boots... toiletries... money." She sighed. "I wasn't thinking about how to help you find him. I was... I was..."
"You were taking care of your father." His voice was gentle, understanding. "It's okay, Brooklyn. I understand. I bet if I had been in your shoes, I would have done the same thing."
"I did ask him to come back. Or to take me with him." She sighed. "I... had a hard time understanding why he couldn't just... accept it would have been easier for all of us, if I had been with him. He didn't want to... make Jules and me live like that. Then he told me to go home, and to see if that boy that had me all twisted up, would be willing to make things work. If he would be willing to love me, despite knowing I was... luring him. And if he did... Papa told me to marry him. To take him, and keep him, and let him love me."
"And you still made me wait months." Steve shook his head. "Stubborn Babydoll."

She shrugged. "I wasn't sure I was ready. That's different. I know you were. You asked. You put that ring on, while I was sleeping. Because you wanted to marry me."

"If you knew how worried I was... doing that. I knew the collar was gonna go over well. You had proven that, by purchasing that cheap little one, for Valentines day. Which... was a load off, by the way. But I wasn't sure how you were gonna react to the ring." He grinned, bending to put more clothes in the basket, before reaching for more clothes to fold. "But I put it on you, and held my breath."
"It's a rock." She sighed, pausing to look at it, nestled next to her wedding ring. "I think they can see it from the International Space Station."
"It's not that big!" He laughed, shaking his head. "It's actually quite modest, compared to some of the rings I looked at. But, I managed to figure out how I wanted it to look, and the jeweller was able to make it, once I settled on the design. Nat was impressed, as well."

"Well, if Nat approved..."She rolled her eyes. "I swear, I half expected you to make her your best man, or whatever it's called."

"Nah." He leaned over, kissing her gently. "She was just really supportive of my efforts, that's all."

She smiled against his lips. "I made her my maid of honor."

"You did." He kissed her again. "I was really happy about that."
"Well." she leaned back, shaking her head. "I don't really have a lot of female friends. Kitty couldn't... cause she was the mother of the bride. I don't know that many women that I would feel comfortable asking."

Steve grinned. "Still. It was nice."
She handed him the clothes she had folded, noting that all was left was more socks. "It was either her, or a Marino chosen female relative."

He took the clothes, putting them in the basket while she grabbed the socks, quickly sorting them, and putting them in pairs. He grabbed a few, helping her. "She was really happy you asked her. Said she never thought to be the Maid of Honor in anyone's wedding, let alone mine."

Brooklyn felt her mouth twitch, but refrained from commenting further. She supposed a former assassin, and SHIELD agent would suppose she would never be anyone's first choice as maid of honor.

"And remember... tomorrow is our one week anniversary. We're gonna have to do something special." He smiled, pleased with himself, apparently. "You gave me a run, and worried me to the moon and back, but I married you. It's done. You belong to me, Babydoll."
"You belong to me." She corrected.
"And I've never been happier about anything." He finished the socks, collecting them in his hands, and dropping them into the basket. Or trying to. One pair bounced out, onto the cracked linoleum. His ears turned a pinkish color as he bent over, picking them up, and placing them in the basket. "You wanna think about what you wanna do?"
"Fuck." She blurted, before pausing. "If you wouldn't mind."

"Besides that." He laughed, shaking his head. "That was already kinda planned, Babydoll. Cause.. you know, honeymoon."
She rolled her eyes at him. "I don't know then. Maybe a nice dinner. Dancing? What are people supposed to do, on an anniversary? What did we do, for the one for when we became a couple or something like that? We did something, right?"
"It hasn't happened, yet, Brooklyn." He shrugged. "You agreed to be my girl in August. And we kinda really cemented it, in August, as well. So that's a couple months away."
"Your birthday is coming up." She blurted, blinking. "Oh."

"We can give it a pass." He twisted his mouth. "I mean... it's.. what, my ninety eighth?"

"Old man." She teased. "You sure? You don't want me to do anything special?"

"Just you." He told her, gathering the laundry things. "I just want you. And since I have you, I don't see the need to ask for anything else."

And damn him.... just like that, she melted. How the hell was he such a clueless idiot, and still manage to say perfect sentences like that? It didn't seem fair.

"I'm still gonna get a cake. Kitty says it's not a birthday without a cake." She told him, sliding off the table. She turned, gathering the pennies they had been betting with while the laundry finished, looking at them in her hand, before grinning and shoving them in her pocket. "Mine!"

"Hey!" He protested. "Some of those are mine still!"
"Like, three." She scoffed, gathering the cards, before pausing and grabbing the ones he had folded, flipping them over, seeing that he had, indeed, had shit for a hand. "Stupid lying fucker! I knew you didn't have anything!"
She waved the cards in his face. "A two, a five, a king, a ten, and a eight! Only two the same suit! When the board was three hearts, and an ace! I had the flush! I had your ass, dead to rights!"

"I told you no!" He took the cards from her, shoving them into the pile, irritated. "I was tryin' to bluff!"
"Which you can't do for shit!" She crowed, turning in a little dancing circle. "I knew it! I read your face, and I knew you didn't have a pot to piss in!"

He grunted, putting the cards back in the box, before turning to point at her. "Doesn't mean you get to look at them, after the hand has been folded. That's cheating."

"Oh, like neither one of us is not a cheater." She laughed. "Steve, we both cheat, and lie, and do other things. It's... kinda what we do. So, don't get your tail all twisted, over me checking your cards."

She went closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning against his chest. She rested her head against him, listening to his heart beat and lungs. There was so something comforting about knowing he was right here, in her arms, alive and strong, and vibrant. That he was strong enough to withstand almost anything she would be able to throw at him. Anything the world might throw at him.

He had proven that pretty damn well to her, this past spring. Surviving a many hour assault against a fucking army of sentient robots, controlled by a megalomaniac sentient robot had been proof of that. Managing to survive the fall of Sokovia, getting off just as it started to fall, was even more proof. The final bit of proof was managing to survive everything HYDRA had attempted to do to him, including the final death throws of the organization in DC, which had freed her, Papa, and Juliana. Hell, even Schmidt, the originator of HYDRA hadn't managed to remove Steve from the earth, just put him to sleep for seven decades.

Her husband was strong. Strong enough to maybe even shoulder her darkest secret.

She took a deep breath, feeling his hands come up to her back, rubbing it gently.

Maybe one day she would give voice to her deepest and continuing sin. Maybe one day, she would tell Steve about her real place at her Papa's side.

"Cheating in a fight is one thing." He told her, his voice vibrating against her ear. "Cheating at cards is a whole other thing, Babydoll. And don't think being cuddly is gonna get you out of trouble."
"Have I earned a spanking?" She asked, trying to be sweet, excitement sparking in her belly.

"I'm beginning to think that's not a deterrent." His voice was disgruntled, the tone dropping deeper, and she closed her eyes, listening to it. "Wouldn't it be more effective if I didn't."

She giggled, shaking her head against him. "Nope."

"We'll see." He rubbed her back again, before sighing. "Okay. Let's get the laundry back, and put away. Then we can have a serious talk about what we want to do tomorrow."

She nodded, sighing as she slid her arms from his neck, letting them trace down to his chest, where she let herself feel his heartbeat and lungs working as well as listening to them. Then she slowly pushed away. "Okay."
"Thank you." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, before giving her back a firm rub, then let go, pulling away to finish collecting their laundry items. "I think we did good. Despite the prices on the machines."
Brooklyn brightened. "We won't have to pay for laundry anymore, when we get back."

"Yup." He shot her a grin. "We are gonna have our own laundry. And if something happens to those machines, we can always use the ones at the new facility."
"Ah, the perks of being an Avenger." She teased. "Free laundry."

He grinned, lifting the first basket, with the laundry detergent balanced on top. "Well, shit. You figured me out. The only reason I agreed to join the team. The free laundry."
She laughed, picking up the second one, shifting to hold it to her side, shaking her head. "And here I thought you did it because you believed in the missions. Color me surprised."

"Nah." He led the way to the door, using his body to open it, and hold it out of her way, waiting for her. "Nothing as simple as that. I wanted my perks, dammit. Free laundry, decent parking, and wouldn't you know? The meal plans."
"Oh, yes. Can't forget the military structured meal plans." She passed him, heading for the direction of their RV, knowing he would follow.

"Hey, don't knock them. I spent a lot of years eating those meals." He followed her, like she knew he would, his voice light. "Kept me fed, for a while."
She felt her lips purse. "That always concerned me, when we first started dating. Feeding you. I know how much a soldier can eat. Especially ones of your kind. The requirements to keep one fed. And I can't cook."

"You're learning." He praised. "That's enough for me, right now. I can pick up the slack, Brooklyn."

"When you're home." She sniffed. "And that's gonna go away, again, when that compound is up and running. You're gonna be... training, and leading, and planning missions, and running missions..."
She would have waved her arms, if she wasn't carrying the laundry basket, but instead let her shoulders drop, as if the weight was suddenly too much for her to carry anymore.

"I've gotten really used to having you home, since Sokovia." She explained, feeling small and ungrateful. "I just don't like the idea of that going away, again. Stupid, I know."

Steve took her arm, causing her to stop and look at him. He had placed the basket he was carrying on his hip, his face sad, his eyes pleading. "It's not gonna be like that, Brooklyn. Not anymore. Yes, there will be times I might be away. But I promise you... I promise you... I'm working to make it work. I'm going to be stepping back from the missions, as soon as the team is trained up, and working functionally. Once that happens, I swear, I'll step into the office, and just do the planning and the paperwork. The bureaucrat shit that is so damn annoying. Because I want to be home every night. I want to be there, for the cooking and the cleaning. I want to be home, when Jules steps off the bus, or when she's got a school function, or a dance recital... I want to be able to randomly say, 'hey, let's get a babysitter, and go on a date night'. I want to be the husband you need, and deserve. I know it's gonna take a lot of work, because every fiber of me says I can't stop fighting. And that's on me. I need to work on it. But I also know I need to make sure you know you and Jules are the most important thing to me, that you both comprise my entire fucking world. That there isn't one moment, ever, where the two of you doubt that I don't yearn with every cell of my body, to be with you guys, every minute of every fucking day. Because I do. I want that, and I need that, and if the only way to make sure that happens is to step back, and stop fighting, I will make that happen. I know it's not gonna happen right away, because it can't, not really. But it will happen, because I'll fucking make it happen, one way or another. Because how the hell can I even begin to ask you to consider starting a family with me, in any form, if I can't commit to promising and keeping that promise, that I'll change how I do things, to accommodate that? What the hell kind of family man would I be, if I can't even be there to help that family, daily? I want that, Babydoll. I want that dream with you. I want to build that house, and that family, and that dream... and make sure it stays like that."
He rubbed her arm gently, before sliding his hand up her arm, over her shoulder, and up to her neck to cup her jaw, bending his head and kissing her gently.

"It's one of the things I promised you, when I put that ring on your finger. To love, and honor you, above all others. That means you, and you alone. Not the world. Not the team. Not the facade of Captain America. You, Brooklyn Rogers. You, are my everything. And if I have to spend the entirety of my life, and our lives together, to make sure you know that, I'll do it. It'll be the biggest mission I've ever taken on, but, by fucking God, it'll be the most rewarding."

"You do that too well." She tried to accuse, her voice failing to transmit that, she knew. "How is it, if you supposedly never learned how to talk to women, you can talk to me so fucking well?"
"Because I'm not talking to a woman." He reasoned, kissing her again. "I'm talking to my wife. To my Babydoll. I'm talking to you, Brooklyn. And for whatever reason... I know how to talk to you. That's why we're perfect for each other. I don't stumble, with you. Because I just want to speak from what's in my heart, in my soul. I speak to you with love, because that's what is inside me, with you. And I guess that's the right thing to do, sometimes."

"I don't hate it." She admitted. "But there are times you shock the shit out of me, because of it. For all your being an idiot, that's one area you appear to be smart in."

He grinned, kissing her long and slow. Then, he pulled away, his grin growing until it beamed. "God, how I love you, Brooklyn."
"Mm." she hummed, watching him, confused. She had told him he was an idiot, while admitting he sometimes had his bright moments. She didn't know why that would make him happy. "I've gathered that, due to the amount of times that you've told me. And that you married me."

"Well, I like to keep reminding you. I know I'm an idiot, so I want to make sure I tell you as often as possible." He let go of her jaw, stroking it as his hand left her skin, before turning her and taking her hand. "How about I show you, when we get back to the RV, too?"

"I'm surprisingly okay with this plan." She nodded, pleased he was starting to acknowledge her constant reminder that he was an idiot. It boded well, she felt, for their coming years together as spouses.

"Hey, occasionally, my plans are really good. I'm gonna count this as one of those times. Might even use it as a point, when trying to convince people I know what I'm doing." He laughed, pacing himself to keep beside her.

"Oh, yes." she nodded again, trying to keep from laughing. "That is a very good point in your favor, yes."

"See?" He winked at her, "I can be smart. As I said, I married you. Smartest thing I ever did."

*******

She rolled over, the next morning, keeping her eyes closed as she snuggled up against Steve's side, her hand sliding up from his stomach to his chest, feeling his deep breathing, and the slow repetitive beats of his heart. She took a slow moment, and paced her breathing with his, letting his body heat comfort her, as she refused to wake up fully.

These were some of the moments she enjoyed the most. If he had a list of points in his favor, to prove he sometimes knew what he was doing, she had a list of moments that she liked to return to. Snuggling up against his side, while he was sleeping was one of those.

She slid a leg up his, wrinkling her nose slightly at the irritating feel of dried fluids sticking to her skin, before pushing the irritation aside, as the new position attempted to tease her into the lassitude of sleep, where all she would be able to focus on was the relaxation that it brought.

Outside, there was very little sound, despite the bright sun that tapped at the closed blinds of the bedroom. Birds chirped softly, and there was the faint sound of wind in leaves. But it appeared that no one near them was awake, just yet. So, after dawn, or just at, if she wanted to try to figure out what time it was.

One week ago, today, Steve and she had gotten married. They had been married, today, for one full week.

The remembrance made her eyes pop open, in shock, and she took her hand off Steve's chest, holding it up to the sharp beam of light that managed to sneak inside. She flexed her fingers, the light catching the stones on her engagement ring, sending the refractions across the room. Nestled next to it, was her shiny, singular wedding ring. A ring Steve had placed on her finger, a week ago.

She felt her breath leave her abruptly, as she stared at the ring.

She was married. Not only that, she was married to Steve Rogers. She, the White Queen, HYDRA's future mother of generations, the eldest daughter of James Bucky Barnes, was married to America's favorite son, Steve Rogers. She had married her father's childhood friend.

She blinked slowly, licking her lips, as she inhaled slowly, watching the matching rings again.

She knew, if she took off the ring, and looked inside, the inscription, 'I will be your shield', in it's beautiful script, would be found, along with a small cross and the date of their wedding. She had learned, while Steve and she had been preparing their wedding rings, that inscriptions were normal, and personal. She had used a line from The Little Prince, said by the Fox, that she felt was the most fitting representation of how she viewed their relationship. He had chosen a declaration of his love and protection. The cross was proof that the rings had been consecrated by the Church of her father's religion. The date was as a reminder of when their lives and souls were joined in Holy Matrimony.

Or, as she had teased him, so that husbands never forgot their anniversaries.

He had responded, very seriously, that he would never, ever -EVER- forget the day she became his wife.

And she believed him.

She brought her hand back down to his chest, swallowing as she felt his heart beat. It was strange. This time last year, she was still finding her feet in the world. She was settling, a bit, relaxing in the idea that she was free, and no one was coming to snatch her and her sister back to the dark underground world of HYDRA. This time last year, she was starting to open her eyes to who she was, and what she was capable of, without the shackles holding her down. This time last year, she had learned what it was to float above the darkness and pain that her life had previously been.

This time last year, she was raw inside, missing her father with an ache that ate at her everytime she inhaled. This time last year, she was having nightmares, and still had moments of fear and pain. This time last year, she was a shell of the woman she was now. This time last year she was going through the motions of living, while not really feeling it for real.

This time last year, she was empty.

Then Steve shoved his way into her life.

She thought she had known what it was to sleep through life, and what it was to wake up in a new world.

But he showed her what it was to really wake up, because he made her wake up, for real. He had done that, by showing her what it was to love, and what it was to lose that love, and what it was to have it returned to her. He had taken her hand, and shown her what her body and heart were really meant for. He had shown her what it really meant to breath, and to taste the air for more than the taste of explosives and smoke, and blood, and gas.

Taking a deep breath, and feeling it catch just a little, she focused the feeling of him against her.

This stupid, idiotic, over grown, over strong, simple blonde man, had made all of that possible for her. And then he had sealed the deal, by making her realize how her world would crumble if he wasn't in it, and making her desire the need to marry him.

She glanced at her rings again, and smiled, knowing just how to wake up her husband.

Shifting the blankets down over her, gently, she rose up, being careful to not jostle him. Leaning over him, she placed both hands on either side of his body, before gently and carefully swinging a leg over his waist, then gingerly sitting down. She bend over him, kissing the spot on his chest she often touched to feel the heartbeat she would rip time, space, and all of the universe apart to keep beating. She moved to kiss the base of his neck, then moved up his jaw, before moving to kiss the corner of his mouth.

She smiled when she felt him shift, his hands coming up to hand on her hips, his fingers flexing before he held her gently, his lips moving into a smile.

"Good morning, Babydoll." His voice was sleep rough, but still loving and gentle.

Brooklyn traced the lines of his lips with a finger, and began to speak. She spoke in French, making sure to say it slowly, and properly, with the right accent. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life . I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..." She gazed at him, cupping his face. "Please, tame me!"

Steve looked up at her, surprised, his lips moving, as he softly said the words back, in English, before a blinding smile graced his lips, and he wrapped his arms around her, rolling them over, until he was braced on his arms over her. "My beautiful Brooklyn."

He kissed her, long, and slow, and gentle, and perfect.

"I could no more tame you, than I could break your spirit." He told her, stroking the hair out of her face gently. "And I would never want to. Part of what I love most about you, is the wildness in you. I know you equate love, marriage, family... all of that, with being tamed. I don't want you tame, Babydoll. I want you as wild, and free, and untamed as you want to be. In fact, one of my daily prayers is that you will be as wild as you are now, at the age of seventy. That the wildness remains in your eyes, long after your body starts to slow down. That those little secrets you hide in the corner of your lips when you smile, are still secret long from now. All I ever really want... is for you to share that wildness with me... don't hide it, or ask me to break you of it."

He moved his eyes, as if he was looking over every inch of her face, before he took a deep breath.
"And you are not the fox. Foxes are hunted, and hounded, and... no. You? You are never the fox. I remember that book. I read it. You? You are the rose. Like the Prince found out, there are thousands of roses, all over the worlds. But you? Because you are my rose, you are the only one that matters. I want to shield you from the world. I want to shield you from the hurts. I want to protect you, in any way I can. If anything, I want you to always know you can seek shelter with me. That nothing you can do, or have done, or might do, will ever change that. Because I love you. Always, and forever, Brooklyn. You are my home. You are my wife. And you are my future."

She blinked rapidly, smiling, as she felt tears start to well. "You stupid idoit."

"Yup." He grinned, bending to kiss her again. "Thank God I was smart enough to not let you go."

She sniffed, reaching up to wipe at her eyes, and he laughed, kissing her, again and again, and again. Each kiss deepened further, became longer, tasted sweeter, until there felt like there would be no more space possible between then.

Steve looked down at her, his lips full and wet, his eyes dark, wide, and luring. "Now... I believe I promised to start today of in a certain way... isn't that right?"
She smiled, letting out a slightly wet laugh, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "You did, indeed."

A/N: Miss me?