Brooklyn woke up before Steve, yawning, and rolling over, blinking at him. He always slept so deeply, she thought. How was he able to do it? She was always plagued by dreams. Not always bad ones, but... intense, vivid dreams. Sometimes so vivid, she woke crying from them, the emotional turmoil too much for her to handle, spilling from her dreams into her waking hour.
She figured it had to do with how their brains worked.
Which reminded her, she still needed to have that conversation with him. How he had managed to fight a war, and then survive the ice, fight aliens in Manhattan, then fight her father and destroy HYDRA, go to work with Stark and the other Avengers, beat a fucking huge ass robot intent on sending the earth back to the ice age... and yet no one stopped to go, 'Hey, does Rogers know how his own brain works? No? Oh, maybe we should tell him.'

She sighed as she sat up, scooting off the bed to use the bathroom, ignoring any idea of clothing. They were, after all, alone in the RV, and on their honeymoon. She entered the bathroom, thinking about how to tell him.

Jesus, what she wouldn't give to have Howard, right now, to help her. He understood. He had always understood. He had been the one to raise the supposition in regard to how a super soldier's brain worked. How it ticked, and why. Other scientists and doctors had later confirmed his theory, through their study of her and Papa.

As she peed, she pushed back the feeling of sorrow that usuall1y accompanied the memories of the man who she had respected, for a long time. It wasn't time for her to really mourn him, yet. It didn't feel right. Like she was missing a part of a bigger puzzle, and until she had it, only then she could see the full picture.

She knew, via Steve, that HYDRA had something to do with Howard's death. Maria's. Lord knew, it was something that tore at her, having the rumors she had gleaned confirmed. To know that the man who had gone out of his way to stop Carter and Phillips from continuing the torture they funded when she was a child, had been killed by the very organization that had infested the one he had helped found. The organization she had put so much faith in, when she was a child, because it was what she had believed in. The organization she had worked so hard for, just to survive.
They had killed Howard.

They had made Anthony, that sweet boy who had played with her, when she needed it, an orphan.

Honestly, she didn't know how she was even able to look him in the eye now, that he was an adult.

Flushing the toilet, she washed her hands, sighing.
No use borrowing trouble, to paraphrase Kitty.

She was on her honeymoon, and her husband's birthday was just around the corner.

Not the time, she figured, to ruin whatever illusion he had, in regards to how his brain worked.

So, not before his birthday. Soon after, then? She couldn't keep it up in the air, for too much longer. It wasn't fair to him.

Maybe the day after.

Shaking her head, she dried her hands, and left the bathroom, climbing up on to the bed, next to her sleeping husband, watching him.

He looked so peaceful.

Brooklyn grinned. She was going to ruin that, in just a moment.

After all, just because they had parked for the night at a rest stop just a bit south of Seattle, didn't mean that would curb their sexual activity. To hell with who might hear them.

But, first, the coffee machine.

Sliding off the bed, and being careful with her feet, she made her way around the bed, to the kitchen, and to the coffee machine, checking the pot and the basket, before sighing. One thing she really missed with not being around Juliana was the little girl's insistence that she be the one to start the coffee machine in the morning. It had been one of the first things they had learned to use together, and while Brooklyn wouldn't let her fill the filter, or the water reservoir, she would let her sister hit the button. It had become a ritual, for them. If Jules woke up first, she hit the button, and then woke her sister up when the coffee got the to four cup line.

If Brooklyn woke up first, she would suffer, until Jules got up.

That little ritual made her sister so happy.

Setting the machine up, she hit the button, and waited until it started sputtering and popping. Then she turned and returned to the bedroom. Sliding back up on the bed, she slowly crawled over her husband's body, swinging a leg over his hips, and gently setting herself down on him, leaning over.

Resting her hands by his head, she stared.

And stared.

And... stared.

Finally, that part of his brain he didn't understand... kicked in.

He opened his eyes, and it took a heartbeat, but she saw the moment that he focused on her. Saw... and felt.
Hello, Sir!

Under her hips, his cock stirred, and hardened.

"Babydoll." He croaked, before clearing his throat. "What time is it?"
She shrugged. It was still slightly dark outside. "I don't know. I didn't check."

He nodded slowly. "And you decided to wake me up... because?"
"Because I need to go birthday shopping, for you." She informed him. "I would like to go to a mall, and have... I think two hours? Just to shop, for your present."
"I don't need a present." He sighed. "I've told you this."

"I know what you've told me." She soothed, moving her hands to rub his chest gently. "But, it's our first birthday, as a married couple. On our honeymoon. I would be a bad wife, I think, if I let you persuade me to not buy you a gift. I promise, I won't make it a huge one. Just... a small gift. Maybe a tee shirt. Or, I don't know... socks. You like socks."
"Socks are practical." He rolled his eyes, and she paused, before letting it go.

"Then I will find you socks. The best socks I can find. But, I want to go to the mall, and have just two hours, like I said, so I can surprise you." She insisted. "Besides, aren't you sick of being stuck to my side, all day, every day?"
"No." He frowned. "I could never. Are you sick of it?"
"Well..." She paused, thinking.
No, she wasn't sick of it. She was glad to know that if she reached out, he wasn't so far away that he wouldn't be to reach back. There was a comfort in knowing where he was, at all times. Even when he used facilities while they were away from the RV, she still was aware of where he was. It kept something in her back from going up. It comforted her, in ways that were... indescribable, without the use of a dictionary, and a thesaurus, and enough time to list them all.

"No. I'm not sick of it. I love it." She told him, going back to stroking his chest. His hands came up to her waist, his thumbs brushing the skin. "But, in this, I'm gonna insist. Just two hours, and then I wont fight you about space for at least a week."

Steve laughed, satisfaction in his eyes. "Oh, a week? Just a week?"
"Maybe." She smiled, leaning down to kiss him. "A week sounds about right."

He let her control the kiss for a moment, before tilting his head and taking over. In fact, he rolled them over, capturing her under his body. She spread her legs, to make him more room, relaxing into the bed.

"So, in repayment for two hours of you wandering the mall, for a birthday present I don't really care if I get, I'll get a week of not a single complaint about how close we are, during our honeymoon." He raised an eyebrow, resting over her on his elbows. "I just want to make sure I know what I'm getting in return.

"Well, considering I haven't' complained, yet, I don't see the big deal." She shrugged, or tried to. "And this doesn't include you following me in the bathroom, while I use it. I mean, limits. I should be allowed to pee alone."

"What if I don't want to let you pee alone?" He asked, still with the raised eyebrow.

"Ew. No. We discussed this. You aren't into watersports. And I don't like people watching me pee." She informed him, her mouth twisting in disgust, slightly. "I mean, I don't exactly follow you into the bathroom, and hold your cock while you pee. Though, if I did, maybe I wouldn't have to worry about it getting all over the place."
"I hit the bowl, just fine." He protested, before grinning. "And if you wanted to hold my cock while I pissed, all you had to do was ask, Babydoll."
"EW!" she pushed at him. "No! I don't feel the need to take our relationship to that level."

"So, you're saying that if something happened to my hands, you wouldn't help me urinate?" He asked, slightly amused. "What if I was in a full upper body cast?"
"I would have a lot of opinions, if you came home in an upper body cast." She snorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "Namely, about how you came to be in that upper body cast."

Steve started laughing, leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth. "God, I love you."
"I love you, too. But if you come home in an upper body cast, I'm gonna hurt people." She threatened. "That's a hard line for me, Steve."

"Then I will do everything I can, to make sure I don't come home in an upper body cast." He assured her, kissing the other corner of her mouth, settling down on her, covering her. "You said you made coffee?"
"I started the pot." She corrected. "It should be done, by now."
He grinned. "You woke me up, before having a cup of coffee. I feel so honored."

She snorted. She had allowed him to distract her.
"Steve." She slapped his shoulder. "The mall."
"I don't know why you feel the need to do this." He sighed. "I mean.. I don't need it."
"You said you were upset that I wouldn't let you do anything for my birthday. That you feel that it's your right to celebrate the day I was born. I remember you saying that." She pointed out. "So, why would you deny me the joy of doing the same for you?"
He sighed. "Alright. Alright. We'll go to a mall. And you can have your two hours."
"If we choose the right one, maybe we can go to a furniture store, or something like that, and see if there's anything we like, that we can order for the house." She suggested. "And maybe you can go with me, and pick out new lacy things? I know you like the lacy things."

"I do like the lacy things." He nodded. "Okay. So, two hours, and then furniture looking, and lacy things."

"And then we'll figure out dinner." She added, quickly.

"Dinner." He looked surprised. "What about lunch?"
"Mall?" She suggested, softly. "They must have a food court. Lots of places to choose food from. Like, you don't even have to stay with one menu. So, if you like the hamburgers from one place, you can get them, while getting a drink from another, and fries from a third."

"I've seen the movies and shows, yes." He confirmed. "Mall culture is... scary."
She nodded. "I've seen it, too. But I've never been. Kitty prefers boutiques, and big name department stores."
"And supporting the local businesses." Steve sighed, settling on her more, relaxing. "Okay, Babydoll. We'll go to the mall."
She grinned, reaching up to comb at his hair, before scratching her nails down his scruff. "Thank you, Honey. I know I'm a trial, sometimes."
"Sometimes?" He raised his head, looking at her with disbelief. "Only sometimes?"
"Don't push it, or I'll ignore your erection, and go get coffee." She warned.

He laughed, kissing her. "Oh, Babydoll... I wouldn't let you."

She opened her mouth to berate him, only to gasp, as he shifted, rubbing his cock against her. "Oh, fuck!"
Grinning, he rubbed again, before shifting to press into her. "That is the general idea, Brooklyn..."
***

He held her hand, as they walked through the Tacoma mall, pointing out things that he found interesting, or odd. She even had to laugh when he stopped at one of the kiosks, looking at the various electronics for sale.

"It's interesting!" He defended, shaking his head. "I mean, we don't need it, but the consumerism of this place is amazing."

"Isn't that the point of a mall, though?" She asked swinging their connected hands a little as she walked. "Massive consumerism, conveniently put together in one place? You don't need to drive all over, just go and walk a bit. Need shoes? Theres a store for that. Bathing supplies? Several stores. Different prices, different products, all in one place, for your shopping convenience."
"And you think you're gonna be able to find me a birthday gift, here?" He asked, pulling her to the side as a large group of teenage girls, talking too loudly, and loaded down with bags walked past them. "Jesus. They're like a pack."
"Smart. Harder for men to harass them, if they go in a group." She commented.

"Always with the practical." He hummed, bending to kiss her head.

They walked through the mall, and she eyed the different stores, trying to figure out which ones might have a gift she would want to give to Steve. Yes, she knew he would be excited about the Victoria's Secret. It was lingerie, after all, and Lord knew, he like anything she put on her body that was designed to tempt him.

Not that she really needed to put in a whole lot of effort to tempt him.

And not like whatever she put on to do the job, stayed on, really.

There was a sports type shop, that looked like it sold memorabilia. Maybe something from baseball? Steve liked baseball.

Brooklyn decided to just make the best of the two hours she had wheedled out of him, to find the perfect gift. It would be like a personal mission, for her. And she hated failing her missions. By the time she returned to Steve, she would have a gift in a bag.

Oh, maybe she should buy a cake? Cookies? Something sweet, for his birthday. That was important, wasn't it? Kitty had gone all out for Juliana's birthday. Granted, it had been her first, and basically a make-up for all the birthdays she had missed, until then. Even in January, when she had returned from Poland, there had been a few sweets on the table that were a little more complicated than a simple Jello, to celebrate her birthday, while the Marinos gave her their gifts. Kitty's birthday had been all out, too, a cake featured prominently.

Even at their wedding. The cake had been a central part of the celebrations. The amount of time spent in tasting, and choosing style, decorations... all of that. For a cake.

So, yes. She needed to find something...cake-like, for his birthday.

She'd find that at a mall, right?

Steve pulled to a stop, near the center of the mall, looking around. "You've got your phone on you?"
Nodding, she reached into her messenger bag, pulling out her phone, showing him.

"And it's fully charged?" He looked at her, his face frowning a little.

"Fully charged." She assured him.

"Sound all the way up, so if I call, you won't miss it?" He placed his hands on his hips.

Brooklyn unlocked the phone, and pushed up the soundbar, showing him it was already all the way up. "I'll hear it."
Steve let out along breath. "Okay. I'll wander. I'll try to give you space."
Blinking, she frowned at him. "No stalking me. I'll be fine. I wont leave the mall. I'm going shopping, and if I'm done before the two hours are up, I'll call you, and we can meet up."
"And get lunch." He reminded her gently. "You should be more than ready for it, by then. Although, I think eating here will break the rule you made about no chain places."
"It's the experience." She sniffed, keeping her voice lofty. "I haven't been to a mall. So, I kind of want the whole experience."

He grinned, kissing her, long and slow, his hands coming to her waist with a squeeze.

"Alright, Babydoll. Go have fun." He nodded, before frowning, reaching for his back pocket where he kept his wallet. "Do you have enough money?"
"Steve!" She laughed. "First off, I'm pretty sure it defeats the purpose of buying you a gift, if I use money you give me. Second, I grabbed a bunch of cash from the bag, before we left, while you were in the bathroom."

He sighed, leaving his wallet alone. "Okay. I get it. I'm being a worry wart."
She shook her head, before bouncing up on her toes to kiss him quickly, then giving him a little shove, watching him rock a little. "Just a little, Honey. I'll be fine. Go do a wander. See if there's any place, we can look for furniture. Maybe buy a new hat. I don't know. But... go."

She pushed him again, and with a heavy sigh, he backed away, before turning and starting in a direction, glancing at her over his shoulder before the crowds of shoppers swallowed him. She could still track him, for a while, keeping an eye on his ballcap, as well as his height, but even that eventually was lost to her.

"Okay." She sighed, nodding to herself. "On to the mission."

She ignored the shift in temperature around her, indicating that Steve's warmth was well and truly away from her, turning on her heel and heading for a wing of the Mall, looking at the various stores as she passed.

Operation Find Steve A Birthday Gift was underway.

***

She sighed, sipping the straw of the iced coffee she had purchased from one of the Kiosks, looking down at the bags at her feet. She had managed to find Steve a birthday gift, well, several really, that she was sure he would like.
But she hadn't found a cake. Or rather, anything resembling an edible cake.

There had been toys. Plushies. Photos. Books. Even cake themed blankets and boxers. In one of the bath places, she had found cake scented products.

And as much as she was secure in her husband's sexuality, there was just something... off about imagining him spraying himself with birthday cake scented body spray, in the morning. Towel hanging off his hips, cheeks freshly shaven, that dumb grin on his face, then reaching for the brightly colored bottle, pulling off the cap, humming as he sprayed himself to smell like an overly sweet... well, sweet.

She wrinkled her nose.

He was meant for a deeper scent, really. Maybe she should find him some aftershave, similar to the one she found at Christmas. She doubted it would be as high quality as that one, given the places she had on offer to shop from, but there was something satisfying in watching him apply a scent she had purchased for him. She imagined it was very similar to the satisfaction she got when he was called away, after sex, before he had a chance to wash. Knowing that she was scented on him, while he went into a fight. Knowing that if he moved just right, he could catch it, and maybe... it brought him comfort. As well as being a not so subtle reminder of why he needed to come home.

Briefly she wondered if he had washed his shield yet, or if she was still scented on it, from when he came back from Sokovia.

And if he had... would he demand a repeat.

Shivering, she pushed it away.
Stupid shield. Stupid man. Only Steve Rogers would consider it appropriate to fuck her on his shield, and then not wash it, because he liked the scent of her pussy on it.

Sighing again, she rubbed her face, leaning back on the bench she was sitting on, returning her thoughts back to the issue with of the cake.

Turning her head, she looked without seeing anything, before focusing on the board in the middle of the walkway, with a big sign saying 'INFORMATION'. Groaning at herself, she stood up, gathering up her bags and coffee, heading for it.

Steve was the proven idiot in their marriage, but there were times when she had her moments too, she figured.

Running a finger down the list of stores, she paused.
Target.
She knew Target! They sold everything there!

Including premade baked goods.
Smiling, she pinpointed where she was, and worked out the route to the interior entrance to the Target. Mentally marking it, she turned, and headed in the right direction. She moved though the crowds, pausing at the front of a few stores that looked interesting, before forcing herself to move on.

There was no use in chasing squirrels, today. Tempting as it may be.

Finally, she made it to the doors of the Target, the familiar red logo a sorry sight to see, almost skipping inside.

Figuring out what she needed to do, she grabbed a cart, and shoved her bags under it and placing her coffee in the little holder provided, before pushing it towards the center of the store, pausing to gauge where she was. It was like the one she had been in, but different. The floor plan was different, but still... similar.

With that in mind, she headed to the far side of the store, looking above her, spotting the groceries sign, grinning as she realized she would be able to find a cake. Oh, and candles! Steve was going to need candles to blow out! That was important, too!.

With growing hope, and happiness, she figured out the layout of the grocery section, finding the bakery area.

Once there, she applied for the very serious business of choosing a birthday cake for her husband.

There was chocolate, vanilla... cookies and cream?

Looking at a half sheet cake, with a fourth of July themed decoration, she paused, realizing that she had never really done this before. She had never chosen a birthday cake for someone. Kitty had chosen the cake for Juliana's birthday, Brooklyn's had been a selection of desserts and pastries from Angelique. The wedding cake had been what she wanted, as per Steve's instructions.
But she had never chosen a birthday cake.

Her first instinct was to choose a chocolate one. Because that's what she liked. But the cake wasn't about what she liked. It was Steve's birthday, and she figured she should choose something that he would like.
So, what flavors did Steve like?

As far as she was aware, he ate what she did, when it came to sweets. Well, no...
She closed her eyes, thinking. When they had dessert with Pops and Kitty... he preferred the fruit flavors, to the alcohol ones. He liked the one with the whipped cream, as opposed to glaze. He liked fruit filling, when it came to donuts.
Brooklyn looked over the cakes again, before pausing next to a white cake, with raspberry filling and chocolate filling. Picking it up, she inspected it. It was decorated with the Fourth of July theme, which seemed to be par for the course, right now, the thick colored frosting on top looking like fireworks. Red, white and blue sprinkles were scattered along the edge.

She smiled, as she put it in the cart.
It reminded her of their wedding. Where Kitty thought it was the right idea to use red white and blue as their colors, because of Steve. Brooklyn hadn't had an opinion, on the color theme, so she had gone along with it. And now, because it was his birthday, the colors seemed doubly appropriate.

Almost skipping, she pushed the cart away from the baked goods section, looking at things as she passed. She had about a half hour, before she had to meet up with Steve, and she was going to make the best of it.
Brooklyn almost slid to a stop, as she remembered the birthday candles.

She needed to get candles!

Turning the cart, she head back to the grocery section, pausing, and frowning.
She didn't know where to get birthday candles. Shit.

Spotting a worker, in their bright red vest, she pushed the cart towards them.

"Hello!" she sang out, and the worker turned to look at her, his eyes red and watery. "Oh, are you okay?"
"Yeah." He grinned. "How can I help you today?"
His voice was thick, and his smile was... off. In fact... he smelled musty. Really musty. Almost... skunky.

Wrinkling her nose a little, she shrugged internally.

"I'm looking for birthday candles?" She asked, pointing at the cake. "Husband's birthday."
"Oh, you're gonna want the party section. You know, balloons, cards... stuff like that." He pointed, towards a direction. "Just down there."

Brooklyn looked in the direction he was pointing, and nodded. "Got it. Thank you."
Pushing the cart, she headed for the party supply aisle. Once she found it, she rolled her eyes at herself. How could she have missed it, honestly, in the first place? It was like a birthday party had vomited all over the place.

Well, maybe not as bad as that. It was organized at least.

It didn't take her any time at all to find the candles, but then she had to contend with the choices. Did she want plain white candles? Sparkly candles that were long and thin? Chunky candles in the shape of numbers? Candles that supposedly burned in different colors? Crayon shaped candles. Candles placed in little holders, promising to keep the wax out of the food. Candles that made music. Candles that unfolded some sort of flower thing, and set off sparklers.

Why was it so complicated? They were just fucking candles!

And once she chose the candles, she had to figure out how many to burn. Steve was turning... what... ninety seven? Did she need to buy that many candles? Or should she just buy the twenty pack, and then get the number shaped candles for the actual age he was turning?

Brooklyn sighed, deciding to just make things simple on them both. One pack of twenty. And she would be cheeky enough to put all of them on the cake. That way neither one of them had to think about it too much.

Besides, she had a feeling being reminded of how old he had turned would not make him happy. Not that he was ashamed of his age, but there was still... not a good idea.

Shrugging, she tossed the white candles into the cart, before pausing and looking at the wrapping paper and gift bags on offer.

She was supposed to wrap the presents.
That was a must.
But that would also require her to convince Steve to leave her alone, long enough to do it. And she wasn't sure how well that would work. But she had to try, right?
She picked out a roll of paper, looking at the cartoonish Avengers on it, before grinning. Putting it in the cart, she quickly picked out a few stick-on bows.
Nodding to herself, she grabbed her cart, turning it to head to the registers. Her time was running out. Steve might even feel like he could nibble at the edges of the agreed upon time. That it was his right, as her husband.

Kitty had warned her that men, when they became husbands, liked to change the rules occasionally. It was her responsibility, as the wife, to make sure that the rules remained in a way that made her comfortable. Brooklyn figured it was akin to being a sub.
Everyone thought that the dom had all the power, in the relationship. But really, it was the sub. Just like, apparently, everyone thought it was the husband who held all the power. But, according to Kitty, the wife was the real powerhouse in the marriage.

And based on what she had seen of the marriage between Kitty and Pops, she was leaning towards believing Kitty.

She stood in line, briefly, before putting her purchases on the belt, leaning on the handles of the cart, looking at the last-minute temptation merchandise.

It was interesting, what people could spend their money on, she sometimes thought. Including things that people might need. Different brands of ChapStick, gum, candy, chips, different styles and flavors of beef jerky, chargers, cords, ear buds...
she reached out, picking up a blind box type thing, turning it over, snorting before putting it back. And then she saw it.
My Little Pony.

Figures, of all six of the main characters, as well as a few of the side characters.
Oh, God... Jules would go crazy.

Without thinking, Brooklyn began sorting through them all, picking out every unique one she could find, until she had about twenty in the cart. Satisfied, she grinned, anticipating how excited her sister would be, when they got home, and she gave them to her.

At the very least, they could be added to the presents they were going to be giving her for her birthday.

Brooklyn moved along, stepping up to the cashier as soon as it was her turn, smiling at the teenaged girl.
"Hello, can you do me a favor, and double bag the cake? In a way its not visible? I'm trying to surprise my husband, and he's waiting... somewhere." Brooklyn nodded towards the cake on the belt.

The cashier looked at the cake, the candles, and the wrapping paper. "Birthday?"
"Yup." Brooklyn nodded. "And I really want to surprise him."

"Oh."" The cashier shrugged. "Well, good luck."
The cashier did double bag the cake, though, making it impossible to see what was inside, through the thick white plastic, printed with the familiar red logo.

Brooklyn bounced a little on her toes, as she handed over the cash for her purchases. "Thank you!"

She placed the bags in the cart as the cashier counted out her change, taking it and shoving it in one of the pockets of her messenger bag to be dealt with later.

"Thank you!" she said again, as she pushed the cart towards the inner door of the Target which led to the mall, just as her phone began to ring. "Of course."

She sighed, pausing to pull her phone out, answering it, right away. "Hello, Steve."
"Where are you?" He asked, his voice full of love. "I'm done."
"Same." She told him, moving the cart so she was out of the way. "I'm at the Target."

"I am..." He paused, and she imagined he was looking around where he was. "I'm not sure."
"Well, what store is near you?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"I went to this place called Hot Topic. I... don't know what to think about it, really." He admitted.
"Huh." She blinked. She didn't know what he was talking about. But she seemed to remember passing the store he mentioned. "I think I'm not far away? Can you find one of those information things? They have stars saying 'you are here!', and then you can figure out how to get the Target. If you want, I can start heading that way?"
"No." His response was firm. "You stay where you are, and I'll come to you."

"Okay." She sighed, moving the cart towards a row of benches, sitting down. "I'll wait."

"On my way." He told her. "Sit tight."
Rolling her eyes, she hung up, tucking her phone away, reaching up for her iced coffee, leaning back and sipping at it.

Maybe it was a good thing Steve was coming to her. He could help her with the bags, so she didn't have to juggle everything, and make sure the cake didn't get damaged. She also had a sneaky suspicion that Steve, despite what he said about not wanting anything for his birthday, would try to peek. He seemed the type.
She had noticed it, at Christmas. He had gotten snoopy. Looking in cupboards, finding a reason to move things under the bed. Even asking her if she would mind him rearranging the closet and the dresser drawers.

He had been trying to find his presents, she suspected.

So, she fully expected him to try and peek in bags, to see what she had gotten him.

Frowning, she stood up, going over to the bags under the cart, grabbing them and taking a quick moment to move things around, to hide what was in them, and tying the tops off if she could. Looking at the Target bags, she bit her lip, before frowning.
Other than the cake, she didn't care if he saw the wrapping paper.

Satisfied, she sat back down, letting a relaxing sigh leave her.

This was a good day. Even if she had spent a bit of time away from Steve.

Sucking on the straw, she considered this.

She knew the point of the honeymoon was, traditionally, to see if they could find a way to function as a married couple, the original source of such a thing from when men and women didn't live together for nearly a year, before getting married. It was also the time when they would explore each other sexually, stemming from the old demands of the female being a virgin. It was the time when the husband was supposed to teach his new wife how to please him sexually.

Granted, there was little to no emphasis on the female being taught how to gain pleasure.

Steve, thankfully, was not in that camp.

Grinning, she sucked slowly, swallowing the cold coffee, closing her eyes in remembrance, before bringing herself back to her original train of thought. It wouldn't do to get herself all excited, to the point where she jumped him and tugged him into the bathroom. She was sure there was some sort of... well, law that banned that sort of behavior.

So, back to honeymoon.

She knew that traditionally, the new spouses spent all their time together, with little space between them. But she and Steve had learned, early on, that their lives couldn't afford that life. Space had to be maintained, to a point. He had his job... his missions. She had school, and now her responsibilities towards her territory. In effect, despite what they wanted, they knew they had to be apart for a period of the day, usually.

Neither of them liked it. But it was, was it was. It had to be. There was no way they could simply just... lock the rest of the world away, and ignore it. Steve's profession wouldn't let him, and the expectations of her crew, and from Pops wouldn't let her, either.

So, yes. Maybe her asking for two hours, during their honeymoon was... a little unorthodox. Maybe it was unexpected. But at the same time, she simply couldn't figure out how to arrange to buy him gifts, and a cake, without doing so.

Rolling her shoulders, she settled on the fact that in this... she was right to ask for the time. Granted, she had given Steve a full week of making sure she wasn't allowed to wander from him. ....That might have been a mistake. She doubted he was going to let her forget it, anytime, in the coming week.

If anything, she wondered if Steve was going to use it... similar to when he was determined to dominate her in public. When he was... domineering, insistent, in his wishes for how she would no doubt be NOT allowed to leave his side, for the next seven days.

Smiling around her straw, Brooklyn decided she couldn't wait.

Steve found her, just as she finished her coffee, shaking it to make sure she got all of it. She held up her phone, showing him the time, grinning.
"One minute over, Rogers." She leaned back, crossing her legs, and kicking her foot a little. "Does this mean I get my week back?"
He raised an eyebrow, at her, pursing his lips. "No... you asked for two hours. I was nice, and gave you a tick over. You still owe me a week."
Brooklyn shrugged, deciding to not pursue it.
"All these?" He nodded at the bags, before looking at her again. His own hands had a few bags.
She looked at them. The names weren't ones she was familiar with. Buckle... Helzberg Diamonds...
Wait... Diamonds?
"Steve... what did you do?" She asked, pointing at the small white bag.

"It's a surprise." He told her, grinning. "You'll see, when you've been a very good girl for me."

"Huh." She blinked, before standing up. "Well, I guess that's fine. I've got surprises for you."
Bending down, she picked up the bags, holding them out to him. "You can carry those. I'll carry these." Indicating the bags in the cart still, which included the cake. "We should take a small trip to the RV, and put these away, then we can go to the food court, and get lunch."

Steve nodded slowly, adjusting his own bags, to take the ones she was holding out to him. "So, did you find what you were looking for?"
"I think so." She allowed. "I hope so?"
He nodded again, as she gathered the target bags, making sure to hold them over her wrist, so that she could carry the cake level.

"And what's that?" He asked, as she began heading for the door to the mall.

"It's a surprise." She threw his words back at him, then paraphrasing. "And if you're a very good boy, you'll find out, later."

With a small skip, she led the way.

****

It was while Steve was filling the tank of the RV, at the gas station, later that day, that Brooklyn found the flyer. She had elected to stay in the convenience store, to gather their change, taking that time to look around. At the back, near the bathrooms, she looked at the different notices hung on the corkboard.

There were dogs for sale. Notices of missing animals. Missing people. People looking to hire out their services for things like lawn care, and babysitting.
At the bottom, nearly buried, there was a flier advertising a dance at the local VFW.

Moving the fliers people had hung over it, she inspected it.

For a donation (all money collected would go towards support of veterans and their families) people could attend the dance at the hall. Music was provided, and it was a suggested potluck. They promised an eclectic music spread from mainly the forties, the fifties and sixties. There was no theme, other than 'America's Birthday!'.

And it was for today.

She smiled, tracing the words 'Birthday'. How fortuitous.
A dance, right before Steve's birthday.

She remembered the stories Papa used to tell her, about how Steve never got asked to dance, and was turned down, more often than not, before the serum. And how after, he always had a partner.

She wiggled the paper off the staples, considering.

Other than their wedding, they hadn't ever really danced together. Maybe it was time to change that.

Making her way back to the cashier, she kept looking at the flier, biting her lip.

Steve would want to go, right? This was something he might enjoy. Dancing, dinner, and maybe... people who would understand?
People who would understand what it was like to stand in the face of unbeatable odds, and still survive. People who would understand that lightning and thunder could trigger memories that were wished to be forgotten. People who would understand what he had gone through, better than most.

She wasn't going to push him to interact with them, on that level. But, maybe knowing there was a community out there, would be helpful. After all, wasn't that what drew Steve towards Wilson, in the first place? Someone who understood, and was willing to be that supportive shoulder?

Well, that and the fact that Steve was a little shit, and liked poking people when he knew they weren't looking.

Not that he would admit to that, ever.

The cashier looked at her, waving her over, readying the change for her.

Taking it, Brooklyn held up the flier. "Can I borrow this?"
"You can take it for all I care." The cashier grunted. "One less piece of garbage for me to clean up later."

Brooklyn nodded slowly, feeling her lips turn down into a frown over his attitude. Holding the flier tight, she made her way out the door, and towards the RV.

"Well, I don't know what it is about this state, but the damn prices are crazy." Steve commented, as he waited for her by the door. "But they had this little sign thing, next to it. Saying what the taxes and such were for. And yes, Babydoll, I stayed out of the RV, and didn't got looking for my presents."
She nodded again, staying silent. She was thankful for that. It had been a concern, after she had shoved him out, when they returned to put things away before continuing their shopping at the mall, that he would eventually go looking for things.
After hiding the presents, and the cake, they returned to the mall to eat lunch, and go shopping for the lacy things Steve liked on her, so much.
That had been a rather... expensive trip, really. But she was happy the purchases would make him happy. And none of it was anything she would mourn, should it become damaged in their play.

"What did you find?" He asked, coming over towards her, stopping just as she met him in the middle.

Brooklyn held out the flier, and he took it.
"Oh." He said, simply, after looking it over. "I see."
"Do you... want to go?" Brooklyn didn't know how else to ask.

She didn't want to guilt him into it. She didn't want to push. It was both... a nice idea, and a bad idea, she imagined. Steve might say he would be willing to go, to make her happy. But he would be uncomfortable. But he might also want to go, himself.

"Dancing?" He kept his eyes on the flier, before looking up at him, a soft smile creasing his lips. "Dancing with my wife? Are you kidding? I'd love to."
her heart beat a little faster. "Are you sure?"
"Sure, I'm sure." He reached out, taking her hand. "Dancing with my beautiful wife, on our honeymoon? And the money goes to help people who really need it? What's not to be sure of."

"Our camping reservation doesn't start until tomorrow." She reminded him. "So, if you want, we can go to the dance, and then park for the night, then head out early?"

"And be deep in the Olympic Forest, in time for the Fourth." He continued smiling. "This says it's a potluck. Do you know what that is?"
She shook her head. "Well, the word is familiar, but I've never... been? Or done?"

"Its where you bring a dish." He told her, moving to lean back against the RV, watching her. "Usually big enough to feed a few people."
"Oh." She blinked. "So, grocery store?"

Steve nodded. "Grocery store. Why don't you leave this to me, and you can just focus on being the best looking gal at the dance. But you're gonna have to promise to save all your dances for me. I insist."
Brooklyn blinked again, before stepping up to him, looking up at him. "You have to ask me, proper. That much I do know."

Steve lowered his head, maintaining eye contact. "Brooklyn Rogers, would you be my date to the dance, and save all your dances for me alone?"

She folded her hands behind her back, rocking a little side to side. "Well, I don't know. How do I know a better offer isn't going to come along?"

He grinned, before bending down to kiss her, his arms coming around her, his hands landing on her hips. She sighed, leaning into it, letting him engulf her.

She remembered the conversation she'd had with Banner, months and months ago, about finding her happy place.

This... was her happy place. With Steve's arms around her. Every inhale of his scent filling her lungs.

"You still think a better offer is going to come along, Babydoll?" he asked against her lips, breaking the kiss gently. "Or, rather... do you think I'm going to Let another offer even come near you?"

She couldn't help it. A giggle left her.
Steve pulled back, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Nothing." She replied, trying to keep a straight face. Raising her left hand, she wiggled her ring finger. "What's this?"
He gave her finger a considering look. "Looks like the rings I put on your finger, when I married you."
"That's right." She brought her left hand up to her collar, sliding her fingers around it. "And what's this?"
"My collar." He was quick to answer.
"And what do all of them mean, together?" she leaned forward a little, lowering her voice, as if telling a secret.
"That you're mine." He responded, a smile growing on his face.

"That I am yours, as much as you are mine." She confirmed, nodding her head, then patting his chest. "See? Was that so hard?"

He blinked at her, in surprise. "What just happened?"
"What just happened was me reminding you, that you own me. Just like I own you. And no matter what I might tease, no one is gonna take your place. I mean, Jesus... I waited how long, before you? You are my one and only, Steve Rogers." She smiled, reaching up to cup his face, stroking his cheek softly. "And I would be delighted to be your date to the dance."

**

He helped her out of the RV, smiling at her.
"You look fucking beautiful, Babydoll." He told her, stepping back to look her over. "Best looking gal I've ever taken out, hands down."

She laughed, as he moved closer and picked her up, turning around, before placing her gently on the gravel, being careful with her in her heels. She took a step back, before smiling at him.
"I'm good." She pointed at her feet. "On solid ground. I promise."
"And you're going to be okay, in those heels, all night?" He asked, looking at them. "They look a bit high."
Brooklyn blinked at him, before bursting out in laughter.
"Steve! Don't be silly! She shook her head, still laughing. "I wore heels worse than this, while at the club! I wore heels worse than this, while I danced! With like.. a three-inch platform and heels way skinnier. These?"
She lifted a leg, extending it, showing him the heel on her foot.

"These are baby heels, for me. I'll be fine."

He frowned, still looking at them, before sighing. "Well, at least we aren't parked too far away, if you need to change them out. I'm gonna go grab the food. Stay right here."
With that, he leapt into the RV, and she shrugged, turning to watch the other vehicles around them.

It appeared as if there was going to be a decent turn out, at least. Not so packed as to be uncomfortable for her, with all the strangers nearby. But not so empty as it would be... odd, for them to be there. They were, after all, just passing through.
she watched as old men with canes helped their wives. A man was pushed in a wheelchair, missing a leg, by a woman similar in age. Most likely also a spouse.

Men, women... people who had served overseas. Some of them were dressed in their formal dress uniform. But for the most part, most of them were dressed just.. casually nice.

She looked down at the sundress she had found in the closet, the pretty blue color, with the sweetheart neckline, and the thicker straps that crossed at her back, was dressy, while still being casual. Thankfully it had a full skirt that fell to just below her knees, which would make dancing easier, while also allowing the air to flow.

She was also thankful for the small purse that kitty, bless her organized little heart, had also packed. Brooklyn didn't think it was appropriate to carry her messenger bag, for this event. Might be a little too... obvious she wasn't... supposed to be there? Or rather, Brooklyn thought that for tonight, it would be too bulky. It was large enough to carry what she needed. Her ID, lipstick, travel perfume, and money.
She bit her lip a little, at the thought of money.
Her first suggestion of just grabbing a handful of the cash given to them at their wedding, still in it's duffel bag, hidden under one of the couches, was shot down by Steve. He was all for the idea of donating, but at the same time, didn't want to drop god knew how many thousands in unmarked bills on a charity event. Instead, he had stopped at an ATM machine, at the grocery store, pulling out an undisclosed amount of money.

From his own personal account.

Brooklyn, meanwhile, had dipped into the duffle bag, grabbing a small handful of bills, and stuffing it in her bra, while he was doing that. Then later putting that money into her small purse, while he was getting cleaned up in the bathroom. She felt bad about hiding it from her husband, but she felt like, in this case, if he found out about it, he would forgive her.

It was, after all, for the veterans of foreign wars. Which he also ascribed to. As did Papa. Wilson. That new guy that was joining the Avengers... Roddy? No... Rhodes. Rhodey. That was his name. All of them were veterans. All of them fought in engagements overseas. So, if she gave money to a local chapter, that might help veterans who needed the help, now... perhaps there was someone, someday, who might donate to the local chapter near them, and help them. It was part of that whole... go around, come around thing, right?

Steve dropped out of the RV, holding the party platter they had picked out at the grocery store, as well as the bags of extras she had insisted on. She had pointed out that while it was a potluck, they, Steve and her, would eat more than any of the other people there combined. It wouldn't be fair, she stated while sifting through the deli meat available, to show up, with just a measly party platter, and then eat their fill.

In the end, he smiled, and stood back while she loaded up the cart with nice, and expensive meats and cheeses. Then she went to the cracker and ship aisle, picking out nice crackers to pair.
He did stop her when she tried to find caviar.
it was going a step too far, he said.
In the end, she left it without a fight. And NOT just because he distracted her with the small batch locally crafted chocolates by the register.

She refused to judge herself, over that. They had been VERY good chocolates.

"Okay. I think we have everything." He stated, turning to shut and lock the door to the RV.

Stepping over to him, she smiled, reaching for the party platter. "I can carry that."
"No." He drawled out, before offering her and elbow after pocketing the keys. "I will be escorting you. I know my manners."

"Oh, do you?" She laughed, coming over to slip her hand into his elbow. "I think I prefer you without manners, personally."

He shrugged as he walked her towards the entrance of the VFW Hall. "Occasionally that's okay. But I should always be polite to you, on a certain level. You are my wife, after all. It wouldn't do for me to disrespect you."
"Steve..." She paused, making him stop. "I know we have... different views of the world. Of marriage, specifically. But, one thing I want you to know... I don't think you have ever disrespected me. Well, except for that one time... you know. When... when I pulled the gun on you?"
"Peggy." He sighed, nodding. "I'm still so, so sorry about that, Babydoll. I never should have doubted you, and all I can do is promise to not do it again. Ever."

She reached over with her other hand, still holding the purse, patting the arm she had her hand tucked into. The purse gently bumped his arm. "Steve, I know that. I'm over it. I mean, I wasn't happy. I would rather not go through that again. But, the past is the past. We can either let it define us, or we can put it behind us. I would prefer we focus on our future, rather than missteps we've taken earlier."
He stared at her for a moment, before smiling.
"Did you just hit me with that tiny purse?" He asked.

"What?" Brooklyn blinked. "Wait, I said all that shit, and you are focused that my purse bumped you while I was comforting you?"
"What do you keep in that?" He shook his head as he started moving them to the Hall again. "Bricks?"
"No!" She protested. "It's smaller than my messenger bag! How did you even feel it?"
"I think you broke my arm." He sighed. "I can feel the bones rubbing against each other."
"You drama queen! It barely touched you, if at all!"

He started laughing, shaking his head. "It could have done serious damage! I might demand to see a medic!"
"Well, I'm sure there's one here." She felt her tone go soft. "It slipped my mind. But... what's our story?"
"Our story?" He looked at her, surprised. "We're on our honeymoon, and we decided we wanted to go dancing. And since it's fundraising, for a very good cause, what's wrong with us joining them?"
"They're going to ask. If we've served." She pointed out. "And we can't go with the truth. America hasn't been involved in anything in Europe, officially, for... well, since you last fought there. And I don't think you know enough to flub your way though claiming the Middle East."
Steve nodded, pursing his lips. Then slowly, "You were in the Middle East."
"And Vietnam, and a few other places." She sighed. "But, I'm a woman."

"So? Women were serving in the Middle East." He pointed out, gently. "I don't see what's wrong with you saying you were there."
"Because I wasn't there with the military." She sighed again, rougher this time. "There's this concept. Stolen Valor. I'm surprised you don't know it. It's where people claim to have done something or been somewhere. Basically, claiming they were military, when they weren't. I won't do that, Steve. My father... I could never, ever, disrespect what the two of you went through."

Steve nodded slowly. "Okay, so... we fall back on our now... well, now classic story. We're on our honeymoon and wanted to go dancing. And it's for a good cause. We just don't have to elaborate."

That would require them to remain slightly vigilant. Never relaxing. Oh, Jesus. This was a bad idea.

"Maybe we should just go back to the RV, and go." She suggested, sighing.

"If you really want to." His voice was non-judgmental, and she appreciated that. This had been, after all, her idea. "But, I kind of do want to dance with you. And I can't imagine a place, or people, who will judge us less for who we are, than this group."
Translation, she realized. The translation from Steve speak to basic English was, he wanted to go dance, here. Despite the risk. Despite the fact that no matter what they told these people, other than the truth, would be a flat out lie.

"Do you want to be honest?" she asked softly.

"Honest?" He blinked at her. "What do you mean by that? I always try to be honest."
"Do you want to tell them who you are? So there's no... mistake, or... or..." She shrugged. "So you don't have to stretch the truth?"

He returned to watching the various people trickle into the Hall with the sound of music and laughter spilling out, and she turned to watch, as well. A family with three children went in, the children talking loudly.
"This is our time." He stated firmly. "Our private time. I promised you, that we wouldn't be bothered. That we could focus on what we wanted to do. This is... Brooklyn... this is my turn to be selfish. My time to focus on what I want. And I want to be with you, without people bothering us. So... no. No, I don't think we should tell them. I think we'll just... tell them the truth. We are on our honeymoon. And I wanted to take my wife dancing."
Brooklyn relaxed, before nodding. "Okay. We'll play this your way. We're simply Steve and Brooklyn. Out for a night dancing."
Steve grinned at her, tugging on his arm as he moved forward. "See? You see how well our names work together? Steve and Brooklyn. Brooklyn and Steve."
She hummed, as they paused to let a car pass them.

"I mean, that's kind of what I always wanted, when I imagined getting married." He admitted. "I never thought it would have it, before the serum. And after, I wasn't sure... if the woman I would want to marry would be..."
she finished the thought. "Be able to separate the two of you."
"Exactly." He said with a relieved rush of air.
"And here I am, who separates you, completely." She lowered her head slightly, as the guilt hit her.
She was going to have to get over it. All of it. She had to. This wasn't the way they could live their lives. Constantly separating Steve and the Captain in her head, and in their lives... it wasn't sustainable. It had been doable when they lived in Carroll Gardens, in that two bedroom, three floor walk up above Carmine's bakery. The distance, though really not that far, from the Tower, and it's people... had been the biggest help. But now, with the house and property they had bought just minutes away from the new Compound... it would be much harder to keep that going. Especially with the lap over of the various teammates, now, in her life.

Having made friends with Nat, to the point that she hadn't blinked twice at the idea of letting her have access to Juliana while Steve and her were on their honeymoon was one of the biggest ones. Having Wilson still help her with her therapy, to be the non-judgmental ear that she needed, and as being the keeper of some of her darker secrets, was the biggest.

She imagined, as time went on, and her exposure to the Avengers continued, there would be further complications and emotional connections. Hearing how Steve talked about things, even if he retreated to a management sort of position where he helped plan the missions, and helped with the training, and basically dealt with the paperwork, meant that there would be expectations from her as his wife. Events, meetings... social shit, stuff like that. She might be expected to present the domestic front for Captain America.

Which was utterly laughable, really.

Her? Domestic? Someone was having a laugh, and she wanted to know who was writing her story. She basically wanted to speak to a manager.

Shaking her head slightly, she sighed.

Beyond all that... until Steve was able to take that step back from active mission work with the team, he would be expected to spend a certain amount of time in the compound, away from her and Juliana. He had mentioned the planned pool and taking Jules swimming there. Brooklyn imagined there was also going to be the expectation from those around him that she would come, often. Because, you know, the whole marriage thing.

So, in theory, Brooklyn would become quite familiar with the people at the compound. Or, rather, some of them. She couldn't imagine a situation in which she knew everyone who would be working and living there. And for certain, she wasn't going to invite everyone there into their home. First off, there wasn't enough room. Second, she didn't know if she could trust that many people in her private areas.

Which meant she needed to start preparing the list for guests. For the Christmas party she was no doubt going to have to host, due to her statis as Steve's wife, and as the Boss of Brooklyn. Also, as the recognized adopted daughter of Pops Marino. Business associates, crew members, Family members... and now, Avengers Compound people. Whatever they were called.

Brooklyn had a lot more respect for Kitty, now. And a better understanding of why Kitty held so many parties during the month of December. Brooklyn didn't expect she was going to have to go all out, as often as Kitty did. Mainly due to her reduced capacity, if Steve had his way. But there would be certain expectations, nonetheless.

Between her schooling, Juliana's schooling as well as all the other programs Steve wanted to encourage her to be put in, and Steve's work at the compound, arranging parties would be a challenge. But one that she was going to have to take on.

"Where's your pretty head, Babydoll?" He asked softly, as they stopped behind another family, waiting to go into the Hall.
"Christmas parties." She admitted.

"Christmas? It's July. Why are you worried about Christmas parties?" He looked at her, with a frown.

Sighing, she quickly explained what her thought process had been, and watched as his eyebrows rose slowly until they were near his hairline.

"You don't have to do any of that, if you don't want to." He told her firmly. "No one is going to expect that of us. We have a five-year-old to raise. I don't think that lends itself to days and days of entertaining, during the holidays."

"Except, they do." She sighed. "There are going to be expectations. From my end of things, if not yours."

She watched as his jaw firmed. "You know my opinion of that."
Brooklyn looked away, before nodding. "I do."
"As for parties for my end of things, I think we can get away with what we did at Thanksgiving. A few people we trust and are comfortable with. I don't want to throw a bunch of parties, just to... what's the phrase I'm looking for... save face? Kiss ass?" He nodded. "We do things our way. And if other people don't like it, they can blow it out their backside."

Swallowing, she looked at him. "And you'll be okay with that? With that people might think of you?"
"I don't care what they think." He stated firmly. "All that matters is we, you and me, make the best Christmas we can for Jules and ourselves. No one else matters. Not really. I mean, we have to save face with Kitty and Pops and them... And it might be nice to do something for the team. But other than that? No one has any right to demand any of our time, when it comes to that sort of thing."
Brooklyn relaxed further. "If you say so."
"I do say so." His voice was firmer. "And if you want, I'll paddle you until you are able to say it too."
They stepped up to the door of the Hall, following to the small crowd in, the music swelling as they approached. Stopping at the folding table set up, Steve looked at her.
"Could you be a doll, and pull out my wallet?" He asked, indicating his full hands.
Brooklyn pursed her lips at him. "Did you just call me a doll?"

"Uh." He blinked, before sighing. "I'm sorry. Would you be a dear, and pull out my wallet, and pay these lovely people?"
He tilted his head at the people with the money box.

Giving him a look, she let go of his arm, reaching behind him to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, before flipping it open. "How much?"
"There's an envelope." He told her, shifting to let her approach the table.

She found the envelope in question, handing it out to the woman by the money box.
"Oh! Thank you!" She told them, slipping it into the box. "Are you former serving members?"
"Uh..." Steve looked a bit shocked. What did he expect? They were going to ask!
Brooklyn stepped in. "Not currently. Thank you."
"I wanted to take my wife dancing." Steve seemed to collect himself. "It's our honeymoon. We're traveling, and I decided... it's a lovely night to go dancing."
"Well, we're happy to have you!" the woman smiled. "Congratulations! Enjoy!"

Brooklyn, still holding Steve's wallet, pushed him slightly, encouraging him to move.

He obliged, and they went down the hallway towards the main Hall. As they went, she saw pictures of service members, plaques, flags, notices, and...
"Steve." She hissed, pointing. "Look."

On a small part of the wall, nestled around other photos and propaganda, was a large, framed poster. On it, was the printed, almost cartoonish figure of her husband from the forties, pointing at the audience looking at it, with the bold words 'I want you!'.

"Oh, Jesus." He sighed. "That one."
"That one?" she asked, blinking at him in surprise. "That one?!"

"Ah, God. Look, they did a lot of that, during the War. Especially once I started fighting. Before it, it was... buy war bonds. Help the efforts. Things like that. But, once I actually was fighting, it became this... I don't know." He looked a little uncomfortable.
She shook her head, going back to look at the poster, then the other things hung around it. There were photo stills from the USO shows, a few more propaganda fliers, Newspaper articles which also included some from 2012 and even a signed photo. And then there...
"Wait." She stepped over, pointing at a piece of cloth pressed between two pieces of glass. "Is that part of your uniform?"
"Maybe." Steve sighed. "I went though a few, during the war. Or, rather, the fabric was... torn?"
Brooklyn stepped back again, looking at the spectacle as a whole.

"it's a shrine." She stated.

Steve shook his head. "Nooo. No, it's not. It's not a shrine, Brooklyn."
"It is a shrine." She insisted. "Signed photo. Piece of your uniform. Pictures and newspapers. It's a shrine, Steve!"
"No." His voice was firm. "C'mon. Let's go dance."

She looked at him, but he ignored her, moving into the main hall.

"Steve." She folded her arms, before groaning and following. Under her breath, she muttered, "It's a shrine."
"Its not." He hissed at her, over his shoulder. "Stop. Now."
He moved to put their party platter, and the bags on a table nearby, where other food was placed.
"Come help me." He told her. "I don't want to do it wrong, and have you upset with me, later."
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head once more, moving to help him unpack the bags. "It's not that hard."
"Well, it is to me." He stated.

Brooklyn paused, looking at him. There were those lines, near his eyes. The ones that appeared when he was frowning, but not. His jaw was firm, under his scruffy beard. His lips were in a straight line.
"You're uncomfortable." She concluded. "Let's just go."
"No." He turned to her, looking her up and down, his jaw rolling before settling. "We're dancing. I want to dance with my wife. It is our honeymoon, and I want to dance."

Now that his hands were free, she was able to take them.
"I don't want you uncomfortable." She told him.

"Then don't go pointing out the shrine." He told her gently, squeezing her hands in return.

Nodding, she sighed, before handing him her purse, and proceeding to start setting up their food offerings.

Suddenly she stilled.
turning to look at him, she raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips.
"Did you just admit it was a shrine?" she asked, voicing her disbelief.

His laugh was her only answer.

A/N: *whistles innocently* Well, that one came out quickly! Kinda happy about that. Vote and comment!