"Do you understand, Captain, what I am telling you?" Marino leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs. "I don't even know how deep her secrets go. What she is still hiding? How far she will go to protect them? to tell the truth, I don't think she even knows what's she's hiding from herself. She has pushed so much down, for so long, just to survive, that I am worried about what will happen when it all comes bubbling to the surface."

"Why are you telling me this?" Steve finally drained the glass in his hand in one go. "You ask me in here, to question my intentions, regarding Brooklyn, and then basically try to scare me off, by telling me she's mentally unstable?"

"I just want you to be prepared." Marino stood up, reaching for Steve's glass. "I'm not saying she doesn't deserve to have a normal life, a normal relationship. But anyone who decides to go into that with her, needs to be prepared. Because there will come a day, when the weight of everything will eventually try to crush her. And she needs someone who is strong enough to hold her up, through it all."

He poured more liquor into the glass, and handed it to Steve, coming around the desk, to lean against the front of it. "So the question I want to ask you. Are you strong enough? Are you strong enough to pull her back, when she finally comes to the edge of her sanity?"

Staring at his glass, rolling the crystal around in his hands, Steve considered the question. Personal feelings aside, Brooklyn was important to Bucky. If Steve failed to protect her, if he failed to keep her safe, if he failed to hold her together, then he would have failed Bucky.

He thought of, in the brief time he had known her, how she seemed to swing back and forth, emotionally. How she seemed to be totally with him, in the moment, fully focused, and then could go where she was almost cold, stone-like. Like the world couldn't touch her. He had assumed it was due to her not knowing how to handle a situation, in the outside world. But perhaps Marino was right. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she was somehow split, inside herself.

And Juliana, that sweet, fresh faced little girl, she would be the collateral, if her sister hit the wall. Juliana would be the one to suffer, the one to live through the hell that would be left if Brooklyn imploded.

Steve thought about how he would feel, if Brooklyn, that shy sweet woman, the one who didn't know how to cook, who was hesitant when touching him, but freely admitted she liked his kisses. The woman who had loved the random bunch of flowers he had given her, the woman who had dropped everything, just to kiss him. How would he feel, if she disappeared from his life? How would he feel, if she let go, and drifted away?

The higher function of his brain rejected the idea. It refused to allow him to consider his life, now, without Brooklyn.

The dark part of him.... That part of him that he refused to let out unless it was during battle? That part was shaking at the bars he kept it behind, snarling in denial at the loss of Brooklyn.

Simply put, he was not going to let his woman disappear on him, either physically or into herself.

Draining the glass, he snapped it down on the desk, and leaned back. "How do you propose we keep her from losing herself, then?"

Marino grinned. "Good. First thing is, when things happen, she needs to be pushed to deal with it. I've talked to a few people about how to deal with PTSD. A lot of them seem to think that the best way to handle it is with kid gloves and such. But, knowing Queenie? She wouldn't know what to do with that. Pushing her, making her confront what she has done, and what was done to her? It's probably the best manner. If she can't run from herself, then she has to fight it."

Steve considered this. Marino was correct. Nothing would help Brooklyn better than facing her past. She sure wouldn't be healthy. But the question was how to help her, without breaking her completely?

"She needs someone to help her. Someone who will be able to help her work through the pain of the memories." Steve mused.

"good luck finding someone who will be able to, a) keep their mouths shut regarding the HYDRA connection, and b) be able to handle someone who has her special..." Marino waved a hand, trying to find the right word. "...enhancements. I don't suppose you have someone on your team who would be able to do it?"

Shaking his head, Steve shut that down. "Even if there was someone on the Avengers, or connected to the organization, she doesn't trust them. "

"I suppose there might be someone with a connection to the family." Marino cocked his head. "I can check around."

Suddenly Steve knew who would work. "Someone who has training in dealing with PTSD, as well as combat veterans. Someone who knows what trauma is, and how to work through it."

"Yes. That is what we are discussing, is it not, Captain Rogers?"

"I know a guy." Steve stood up. "I've been working with him, to find Bucky. He also works down at the VA offices in DC. Sam Wilson."

Marino crossed his arms. "The guy who helped you take down SHIELD?"

Steve nodded. "Brooklyn has already had contact with him, and I guess she sort of likes him. It's not a whole lot, but it's a good starting point."

Eyeing Steve, Marino nodded. "I would like to meet him, find out how much this is going to cost."

"I don't think Sam will charge." Steve frowned.

"The man is going to get paid. Queenie is my responsibility, until I return her to her father." Marino waved his hand. "I took her under my protection, and that means things like medical bills are my responsibility. The man should be compensated for his time, and his silence."

"I think that should be up to Sam." Steve reasoned. "But I'll talk to him, and see if he's willing to meet you."
"He will, or he wont be working with Queenie." Marino stated, putting a hand on the desk. "That is that."

Steve was about to argue the point further, but a soft knock on the door made him pause.

"Yes?" Marino called.

The door opened, and Brooklyn popped her head in. "Are you guys playing nice?" She smiled. "Mrs. Marino is getting antsy. She wants to meet Rogers. And she wanted me to remind you that you promised to supervise the grill. Luigi has a bad habit of over cooking the steaks, according to her."

"He does." Marino agreed. "I'll be out soon. Tell her not to worry her pretty head over it."

Brooklyn stepped fully into the room, a glass of wine in her hand. "I wanted to talk to you, before it got too late, as well, Sir."

Marino gestured for her to come closer. "Fine, yes. Do you need money? Is there something you need to buy? Let me know, and I will find it for you."

She shook her head, coming to stand next to Steve. He reached up, without thinking, taking her free hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it, feeling Marino's gaze on him. Brooklyn looked down at him, and smiled.

"No, nothing like that. I just thought I would inform you, before someone told on me. I got into a tussle with Diamante, a few nights ago, backstage. It was mostly verbal. But I did put my hands on her." She had an ashamed look on her face, and Steve frowned.

Marino sighed. "Queenie..."

"She started her usual thing, running her mouth. I would have ignored her, but she insulted my father and Juliana in the same breath, and I just reacted without thinking. I'm sorry, Sir." Brooklyn bit her lip. "I'm actually surprised she hasn't complained to management, by now."

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Marino raised an eyebrow. "How did you put your hands on her? Was there blood?"

"No, Sir." Brooklyn shook her head. "I pressed her against the wall, and had her arm yanked behind her."

"How did she insult them?" Steve asked, confused.

"She insinuated that Juliana was in fact my child, and that my father had... interfered with me, and that the only reason I had come to New York was because he had decided to move on from me, to Juliana." She blinked, and then cocked her head. "I wonder why such a thing would come to her."
"Maybe because she has been watching too much day time television." Marino suggested, standing up. "This is why I don't want you watching those talk shows. Nothing but trash, peddling sensationalism. Almost the same as, if not worse, than those damned reality shows. Pregnant teenagers, and women who have never worked a day in their life, beyond selling pictures of themselves? Trash. They only became famous after the one sold that video of herself having sex with her boyfriend. Best to keep your television watching to the PBS channel. Art and culture. Kids shows are mostly safe, still."

He came around the desk, and took the wine glass from her, setting it down, before detangling her other hand from Steve, pressing both hands between his. "I don't want you to worry about Diamante. I'll ask the management to have a few words with her. But I do want to thank you, for coming forward on your own, rather than have me find out later. That was the right thing to do." He kissed her cheek, before letting her hands go. Handing her the wine glass back, he patted her shoulder, fondly. "You are a better woman for it, Brooklyn Marie. That shows maturity."

Brooklyn was blushing. "Careful how you throw the word 'maturity' around, Sir. I do believe I have a few years on you," She teased.

"And yet, how well you wear them!" He laughed. "Look at me, all these wrinkles! It's the women in my life, I swear!"

"Oh! I'm going to tell Mrs. Marino you said that!" She laughed, before looking down at Steve. "Do you hear this? He bemoans the fact that his wife, who is at least ten years younger than him, is making him old!"

"Some men have all the luck." Steve tried to join in. "We should all be so blessed."

Marino threw his hands in the air. "May the Lord bless me less."

Steve had to laugh, while Brooklyn simply shook her head.

"Alright, I think that is enough man talk, for now." Marino held out his hand to Steve. "Captain, I will ask you to think about what we have talked about. For now, I'll leave it in your hands, as long as you abide by our agreement. Just know, I will step in, if needed."

"I understand, Sir." Steve took the hand, and gave it a firm shake. "You can trust me."

"Of course, I can! You are Steve Rogers!" The older man smiled, before going to put a hand on the small of Brooklyn's back. He caught himself, looking at Steve, before gesturing towards the door. "Let's not keep the birthday girl waiting. There is a pile of presents and a cake, all with her name on them."

"I thought you said this was going to be a small party." Steve asked, standing up.

Marino shrugged. "Compared to a wedding? Or a baptism? This IS small. Less than fifty people, I think."

Brooklyn grinned. "Mrs. Marino can't help herself."

"My Kitty can't help it. She loves to throw a party. At Christmas? There is usually a party every few days, just so she can make sure she doesn't leave anyone out." Marino made his way to the door, opening it. "The house is decorated like the North Pole and Santa's workshop threw up all over it. One year, when we didn't have any snow, she paid to have artificial snow made, every day, just to keep the winter wonderland theme going. Cost me a small mint. But the happiness it brought my wife? Worth every penny."

"I have heard the saying, 'Happy wife, happy life.'" Steve put his hand in the small of Brooklyn's back, as they followed Marino out of the office.

"Wise words to live by." Marino locked the door, pocketing the key. "Anyone who tells you otherwise, is heading for divorce."
"Catholics don't like divorce." Brooklyn raised her glass, taking a sip. "And anything big enough to cause an issue, is big enough to hit with your car."

Steve blinked at her, shocked.

"Stop quoting Kitty." Marino advised. "She is the reason we are getting horrible rates from our car insurance."

He led them through the house, into the kitchen where only a few people were milling about. Marino stepped up to the counter, reaching over for a wine glass, holding it out to Steve. "Wine? Or would you prefer a beer. We also have non-alcoholic drinks. Mainly for the children and the pregnant women."

"Beer would be fine." Steve nodded, and accepted the drink, bringing it up to take a sip.

"I'll leave you in Queenie's capable hands, then, Captain." He patted Steve on the shoulder, before nodding at Brooklyn, and walking out of the sliding glass doors, into the back yard.

"So, I see that he didn't put a bullet in you." Brooklyn joked, sipping her wine, leaning against the counter. "That's a good start."

He went to smile at her before the story Marino had told him came back into his head. How after the attempted mugging, she had locked up. He tried to imagine it. Brooklyn's face blank, void of all emotion, her eyes empty, with blood on her hands. It was a harrowing image, one he didn't want to ever see in real life. He knew, from his time in war, how quickly people could shut down in situations that were too much to handle. He himself had felt it, a couple times, seeing the horrors that HYDRA and the Nazi's had perpetrated on the locals of the areas they had occupied. Sometimes the only way to survive a situation was for the brain to go into autopilot, so that the dark parts experienced could be shut out until it could better handle it.

But was it shock, or was it the lingering effects of HYDRA that had made her shut down, block it out?

Realizing she was starting to look at him with a worried frown, he reached out and cupped her face, running his thumb over her lips.

"It was okay. He just wanted to make sure I was going to treat you right." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, conscious of the fact that they weren't in a private setting. "He was concerned over the fact of how much I might miss, or mess up, if i forget that you are still so sheltered, from the outside world."

She scoffed, before draining her wine glass. "Sheltered. That's an interesting word."

Steve frowned, before tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "You are, in many ways, sheltered. But that's okay. We can explore the new world we live in, together."

"You've got about two, three years on me, Rogers." She narrowed her eyes. "How is it still new to you?"

He laughed. "There are times I never understand a word coming out of someone's mouth. Or what's going on in the shows people watch. Or what's going on in the news. There is still so much that is new to me." He took a sip of his beer.

She started laughing. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to stop.

"We are both hopeless." She explained, turning around to face the kitchen island, reaching for a bottle of wine, filling her glass again. "The blind leading the blind."

Caging her In with his arms, bracing one hand on the island next to her, the hand holding the beer bottle wrapping around her waist, he bent down enough to press his forehead against her temple. "Then we take turns, leading each other."

Brooklyn leaned back into him, placing her free hand on the wrist wrapped around her. "You aren't worried we will go off a cliff?"

"That depends on what that cliff is." He began to sway, back and forth. "And who knows what's at the bottom. Maybe we will have a soft landing."

"Or just go splat." She leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. "I don't know what it is, what you are doing to me. What you are making me feel. But it scares me."

"Don't let it. Fight back." He kissed her temple. "Don't let all the fear, all the worry, all the things you think might happen, keep you from moving forward."

Even though he knew it wasn't the best time, or place, to be nudging her, he couldn't help it. It felt right. It felt right to be holding her, to be kissing her. Brooklyn felt like she had been made to fill the missing pieces, the ones he didn't know he was missing.

She pulled away far enough to put her wine glass on the kitchen island, before turning in his arms, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. He did as he had promised before, and bent down to make it easier on her. Steve went back to swaying, keeping his eyes on hers, as she relaxed against him, sighing.

"You know," she began, smiling slightly, "you could be very dangerous, to me."

"No." Steve shook his head. "I'll never be dangerous to you."

Brooklyn raised an eyebrow. "We've been on opposing sides, and never knew it. The thing is, one of us has to either break, or bend, to make this work."

"We were never on opposing sides." He denied. "And no one has to break, or bend. We just have to meet in the middle. The rest of the way, we go together."

She sighed again, and tugged against his neck, pulling him down further. Reaching up slightly on her toes, she pressed her lips against his. He tilted his head, before tugging at her bottom lip with his. When she opened, he reached out and licked the inside of her lip. She tensed, for a heart beat, before she relaxed again. Inhaling deeply, he pulled away, then placed a gentle kiss on her lips again, leaning his forehead against hers.

"We okay?" He asked softly, keeping his eyes on hers.

Licking her lips, Brooklyn nodded. "We're okay."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "We need to go join the party. Juliana is probably wondering where we are."

"Yeah." She agreed, before pulling her arms away. "Yeah."

He nodded, and stepped away, bringing the beer in his hand up to take a deep pull from the bottle. He kept his gaze on her, as she turned to pick up her wine glass, drinking from it, when she turned back to him. Holding out her hand, she waited, and as he took it, she began to lead him out the sliding glass door.

"Be ready to be besieged." She warned. "I'm pretty sure that everyone out there knows to keep their mouth shut, but at the same time... there's a lot of your fans out there."

"Well, I'm pretty sure my biggest fan... is a little girl who turned five today." He smiled.

"Was that you trying to be smooth?" She paused, one foot out the door, turning to look at him.

"I was trying." He admitted.

"hmm."

"Not good?" Steve asked.

She cocked her head, looking at him. Sometimes he wished he could get inside that head of hers, to know what was going through it when she did that. What she was thinking. But at the same time, he enjoyed the mystery.

"It could have been better." Brooklyn finally declared, returning to pulling him along out the sliding glass door.

"I'll work on it."

The party was under full swing, a few hours later, when Mrs. Marino got everyone's attention, for the cake. The food had been good, and filling. Which for Steve, with his souped up appetite, was great. The steaks, under Mr. Marino's supervision had been cooked to perfection. He had often found people putting more food on his plate, even as he ate everything on it. At one point, he had turned to answer a question about his time in Italy, during the war, only to glance back at his plate, and found it refilled.

Juliana, like most of the children there, were given small plates of food, but in reality, they were eating off of everyone else's. He had seen Mr. Marino bending down, more than once, to fork a bite of something off his plate into Juliana's mouth. The little girl had even once pulled on the older man's shirt to get him to give her a bite of something.

Brooklyn mostly stayed with Steve, or one of the Marinos. She kept an eye on her sister, he noted, but for the most part she seemed to be relaxed around the people who were in attendance. He did see the man who had been at the gate, try to pull her away, when she was with Mrs. Marino, but she had simply smiled, and patted him on the arm, sticking with the hostess. She had returned to his side, not long after that, and happily pressed a kiss to his cheek, when she took the seat next to him. Brooklyn slipped her hand into his free one, weaving their fingers together.

"having a good time?" she asked, leaning her head on his shoulder, sighing

"Actually, yes." He smiled, looking around the back yard.

"I see they have been feeding you well." She nodded towards his half full plate.

"They seem to think I'm starving, I guess?"

"Or they just want to make sure you don't leave here hungry. I think it's an family thing." Brooklyn rubbed her thumb on his hand. "They do the same thing to me, sometimes."

Steve nodded his head towards Juliana, who was currently being fussed over by a few of the women in attendance. "She's having the time of her life."

Chuckling, Brooklyn pushed a lock of loose hair out of her face. "She always does. The Marino's have been very kind, taking us under their wing, they way that they have. Mrs. Marino is surrounded by boys, apparently, so having access to a little girl makes her happy. And when Mrs. Marino is happy, Mr. Marino makes sure those around him are happy. Beneficial I guess, to allow them to play grandparents to her. And if that is something I can give her, even if it's only in name, then I will."

"There is that old saying, 'it takes a village to raise a child'." he remarked, bringing her hand up to kiss the back of it. "No one ever says what that village has to consist of."

"Our village is a odd one, then." Brooklyn shifted her head, to look up at him.

"Nothing wrong with that." He assured her, bring up the hand holding his beer to fix that stray hair. "It'll just mean that Juliana will have a lot of experiences to draw from, as she grows up."

Whatever Brooklyn was going to say in response, was cut off, as Mrs. Marino called everyone's attention to her, as she had the cake brought out. The five candles, with a sixth, in the shape of a five, burning brightly. She placed the cake on the table, helping Juliana to stand on one of the chairs, in front of the cake.

"Okay! Everyone! Let's sing to the birthday girl." She waved her hands.

The crowd of guests began to sing 'Happy Birthday', Steve joining in, noticing that Brooklyn was a note or two behind. When the song ended, he kissed the back of her hand, attention on Juliana, who, when prompted, began to blow out the candles, with the encouragement of the guests.

The little girl leaned over the cake, blowing hard through pursed lips, until all the candles were out, sending up a cheer and applause.

Steve started laughing as he watched Mr. Marino encourage Juliana to reach out and stab the cake with a provided fork, telling her to take a bite. When she did, he cheered and clapped, as his wife swatted at him. Juliana spotted them, and jumped down off the chair, running to them, climbing up on the chair next to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Did you see, Cap'n?" She asked excitedly. "They gave me a cake, and told me to blow out the candles!"

"I did see, Sweetheart." He put down the bottle, and began rubbing her back. "Did you make a wish?"

"Uh-huh!" She leaned closer and whispered, "Do you wanna know what I wished for?"

Steve smiled, rubbing her back. "If you tell, it wont come true."
Juliana had a look on her face, close to utter horror. "I wont ever, ever tell, then! I want my wish to come true."
Steve blinked, knowing what her wish must have been. "Then maybe it will come true."

"Juliana! Do you want some cake and ice cream?" Mrs. Marino called, overseeing the cutting of the cake.

"Can I bring Lyn and Cap'n some?" She called back, letting go of Steve and climbing off the chair.

"Of course!" Mrs. Marino called back, beginning to hand out plates of the dessert.

Brooklyn let go of his hand, causing him to frown slightly, as she straightened up, readjusting how she was sitting on the chair.

"You know what she wished for." Brooklyn sighed.

"Yeah." Steve sighed as well. "We'll just have to make it happen."

She groaned. "He's not going to make it easy. You know this, right? He's got years of training in staying hidden. He's not going to be found, until he wants me to find him."

"I don't think he's taken into account how determined I am. And how far I will go to find him." Steve took her hand in his and squeezed it, before bringing it up, kissing it, and holding it against his lips. "I promise you. I promise, I will bring him home, to you and Juliana."

She looked at him, her eyes darting back and forth. Inhaling slowly, she returned the squeeze of her hand, before nodding. "I believe you."

He started to grin. Happiness surged through him. Pressing her hand to his lips again, he kissed it, before lowering their hands and reaching down to cup the back of her head. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against hers, holding them together. After he pulled back, he pressed his forehead against hers, willing her faith in him to grow stronger. "I swear to you, Brooklyn. I swear it."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Juliana making her way towards them, two plates in her hands, taking careful steps, Mrs. Marino following behind with another plate in her hand. The adults were quick to move out of her way, some of them smiling down at her fondly. Steve kissed Brooklyn's forehead, before pulling away. She had an almost dazed look on her face. He had to admit, it was a boost to his masculine ego that, despite her current inability to reach arousal, she still responded to him, in some way. Even if it was emotional, he felt accomplished that she was inclined to react to his presence and his touches. He would wait, God knows he would wait, but he anticipated when she would respond physically, not just emotionally and mentally, to his touch. If Banner was right, that day was coming soon. Steve knew that he had to lay the foundation down, strong and sure, so that when she began to become aroused, she would trust him and have faith in him enough to allow herself to explore that new facet of her personality with him.

Juliana finally got to them, putting the plates of cake and ice cream down in front of Steve and her sister. Mrs. Marino slid the third plate in between the other two, and leaned down, kissing Juliana on the cheek, before leaving the trio by themselves. Juliana climbed up on the chair beside Brooklyn, climbing over her, to plant herself on Steve's leg. Reaching over the table, she dragged one of the plates towards her, picking up the small plastic fork that was on it. She looked over her shoulder, first at Steve, then at Brooklyn.

"Cake and ice cream." She explained to them. "it's for my birthday! Nonno said that we get it, on birthdays. And I get to share with everyone!"

"That's right, Sweetheart." Steve approved. "Sharing is the right thing to do."

"Lyn?" Juliana asked, "don't you want some of my birthday cake?"

"Of course, Little One." Brooklyn shifted in her seat, reaching for one of the plates. "I would be happy to have some of your cake."

Juliana was watching, as well as Steve, as her older sister scooped up a bite of the cake and put it in her mouth. She made an appreciative sound, as she ate. "It's good, Jules. You should eat yours."

The little girl settled down, and began to eat her dessert. Steve chuckled and began to eat as well.

The cake and ice cream eaten, the presents gone through, Steve standing, hands on his hips, as he waited for Brooklyn. She had been asked to follow Mr. Marino to his office, for something that he needed her attention for. Brooklyn had asked Steve to see to the loading of the presents and to get Juliana ready for the ride home. He had packed the car, and put a sleeping Juliana in her car seat, strapping her in. He was currently standing in the driveway, waiting for his girl, talking to one of the men in attendance, Carlos, about property prices, and how they had risen since his time, when Mrs. Marino interjected.

"Captain, I would like a word, if you wouldn't mind?" She stood, arms folded, eyeing him up and down.

Carlos was quick to bow his head to the older woman, disappearing into the door with a slap to Steve's shoulder.

"Mrs. Marino." He nodded his head.

Giving Juliana a glance through the SUV window, she frowned. "I just wanted to make sure that you know, if you hurt her, either of them, I will hunt you down, cut off the favorite part of your anatomy, and shove it down your throat. Before I cut you open to use your entrails as holiday decorations, all while you are still alive." She glared at him. "Don't play games with them, when they don't understand the rules."

He stood stock still, letting the threat run through his mind. Then, stiffly, he responded, "Ma'am, I have no intention of hurting-"

"You may not have the intention, but that doesn't mean you wont do it." She snapped. "I'm simply warning you. Don't hurt my girls."

"Mrs. Marino," Steve paused, then sighed. "I only want them to be taken care of. To make sure they have the best life they can. I want to bring their father home to them, to bring their family back together."
"And I suppose the fact that you want to stick your dick in Brooklyn has nothing to do with anything, does it?" She asked scathingly. "Pretty girl, all alone in the world, who is so innocent and naive of the things in it, let alone about men... So easy to prey upon."
"I'm not-" Steve took a calming breath. "I don't want it to be like that. If that was all I was interested in, I would have pushed her and pushed her, until she gave in. I want her to be free to choose. If she chooses me, then that's that. But if she doesn't... I will accept it."
Mrs. Marino huffed. "We'll see."

Brooklyn came out of the house, her eyes red, clutching her messenger bag like it was a life line. Mr. Marino was walking beside her, head bent to hers, talking softly as he rubbed her back. She was hunched over, like she had just been delivered a blow. Steve went on full alert, ready to step in. She was sniffing, wiping at her nose, when her eyes met his. He didn't even think about it, he just opened his arms, inviting her into his embrace. Brooklyn looked at Mr. Marino, as if asking permission. The older man nodded, giving her a small push. She took the last few steps, into his arms, wrapping hers around him, as he brought her in tight, bending his head to press his face into her hair.

She was making small gasping noises, and he hushed her. "Sh, it's okay. I've got you." he rubbed his hands up and down her back, as she settled against him. "What ever it is, I've got you. I've got you, Babydoll."

She shuddered, then stilled, inhaling, before she pulled away slightly. Sniffing, she nodded. "I'm good. I'm ready to go home, Rogers."

He allowed her the space to pull back, bringing his hands up, cupping her face. Wiping the tears that still stained her face with his thumbs, he met her eyes. "You sure you're okay?"

She nodded, sniffing again. "I'm sure."

Mr. Marino looked at Steve. "Remember what we discussed, Captain. Queenie, I'll see you tomorrow at the club. Come upstairs before your shift."

Brooklyn looked over her shoulder at Mr. Marino, nodding. "Yes, Sir."

Mrs. Marino stepped forward and kissed her cheek. "You have a good night, Queenie."

Steve began ushering Brooklyn towards the SUV. "Let's get you home, Brooklyn."

She let him lead her to the car, waiting for him to open her door, patiently. He helped her climb into seat, making sure she was secure, before shutting the door and making his way to the driver's side. After climbing in and buckling himself in, he turned to look at her. She was still clutching at the messenger bag, holding it on her lap tightly, as if someone was going to snatch it away from her. In reality, she looked exhausted. He started the vehicle, steering them down the driveway and out of the gate, onto the street, before reaching out, and taking one of her hands. He brought it up, pressing the back of it to his lips, before glancing at her.

"We'll be back at the apartment soon. Do we need to stop anywhere before we get there?" He asked, keeping her hand to his lips.

"No." She shook her head. "Just get us home."

He nodded, and drove. Brooklyn closed her eyes, resting her head against the seat.

It didn't take longer than expected to get back to the apartment. He found a spot not far from the bakery, putting the vehicle in park. Leaning over, he checked Juliana in the back, seeing that the little girl was sleeping, head leaning towards the side. When he turned his head to look at Brooklyn, she was watching him, eyes wide.

She was back to being wary, again. Whatever had happened when Marino took her to his office, she had decided to retreat.

Sighing, he climbed out of the SUV, moving to the back passenger door, opening it, to get Juliana out. There was some logistical maneuvering, getting the little girl out of the vehicle without waking her, but he was able to get her up in his arms, head on his shoulder, without her making much more then a few tiny moans.

Brooklyn was already out, pulling out her keys, waiting for him on the sidewalk, by the time he shut the back door. He followed her, as she walked to the entry door to her building, waiting as she unlocked it, then followed her up the stairs.

She unlocked the apartment door, kicking off her shoes as soon as she entered the apartment. She turned to him, as he held Juliana, and he rubbed the little girl's back, his eyes on Brooklyn. Sighing, she gestured for him to follow her, and led him down the hall to Juliana's room. He put the little girl down on the bed, and watched as she made a noise, rolling over and snuggling down into her bed.

"If you give me the keys for the door downstairs, I'll bring up all the presents from the back of the SUV. It'll give you time to get her ready for bed." He suggested, stepping back into the hall.

Brooklyn nodded, holding out the key ring. "It shouldn't take long."

"Trust me, it wont take me long, either." He smiled.

"Rogers?" She suddenly asked.

"Yeah, Babydoll?" He stepped closer to her, reaching out and brushing a finger down her cheek.

"Will you stay? Tonight? I picked up things for you to wear, in your size, if that makes a difference." she all but whispered, tugging on the strap of the messenger bag, that was still slung across her body. "I don't... I just don't want to be alone, tonight."

Steve leaned down, and kissed her forehead, wrapping his arms around her. "I can stay. Let me go get the things out of the SUV, and I'll stay."

She nodded, and he let her draw away and go into Juliana's room.

Steve left the apartment, going down the stairs and into the street. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, and quickly called Natasha.

It rang a few times, before her amused voice answered. "I'm surprised, to have you calling me, Rogers."

"I just called to let someone know that I wont be back tonight." He opened the back of the SUV, beginning to gather the bags and boxes of presents. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow."

"Putting out, on the first date, Rogers? Really?" She teased.

"It's not like that." He groaned, frustrated with the red head. "It's just getting really late, and I think something happened at the party."

"Are you okay?" Natasha's voice switched to concerned. "Do you need one of us to come help you?"

"No, nothing like that. I think her boss had a difficult talk with her." Steve looped several of the gift bags on his wrist. "I'm just going to stay, to make sure she's okay."

"You are getting in pretty deep with her, really fast, Rogers." Natasha observed.

"I'll be okay, Romanoff." He sighed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay, Rogers." Nat sighed. "Tomorrow. Then, you and I are going to sit down, have a little chat, and you are going to tell me all about this girl."
He hung up, putting the phone in his pocket, before gathering the rest of all the presents. Shutting the back of the SUV, he hit the lock button, hearing the chirp. Steve made his way back into the building, making sure not to drop any thing, as he reentered the apartment. Putting the presents on the coffee table, he went and made sure the door was locked, taking off his shoes and putting them along the wall with the others. Steve walked down the hall, noticing that Juliana's door was still open, but that her night light was now on. Poking his head around the door jam, he saw Juliana tucked into bed, Brooklyn standing over her, still gripping the messenger bag.

"I put the presents on the coffee table." He told her, softly.

She turned her head, and nodded. "I'll get you some clothes."

Brooklyn came out of Juliana's bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She went into her own bedroom, finally taking off her messenger bag, setting it gently on the dresser, before bending to open one of the bottom drawers. She pulled out a stack of clothing, handing it to him, before stepping back.

He looked at the clothes in his hand, then at her. "I'll... just go change in the bathroom. Is that okay?"

Brooklyn nodded, and turned her back, opening other drawers to pull out clothing, he assumed, for herself. Steve left her, going to the bathroom across the hall, quickly changing out of his clothes and into the ones Brooklyn had bought for him. The gray sweat pants were a tad short, but the shirt fit perfectly. Folding up the clothes he had worn, he took a moment to wash his face and hands. Deeming that he must have given Brooklyn enough time to change, he picked up his clothes, and left the bathroom, returning to her bedroom.

She was sitting in the middle of the bed, knees pulled up to her chest, hair down. Brooklyn had changed into an oversized button down shirt, with matching shorts. Her eyes were staring at the messenger bag, on the dresser.

Steve put his clothes down on the dresser, beside the messenger bag, then reached out to touch it.

"Please, don't." She requested softly. She held out a hand to him. "Come to bed?"

"What's going on, Brooklyn?" He took her hand and allowed her to pull him onto the bed. "Please, tell me?"

"I don't want to deal with it, right now. Please, don't make me?" She pulled at him, until he was fully on the bed. "Can we just deal with it tomorrow?"

Steve wrapped his arms around her. "We can deal with it tomorrow."

She smiled up at him, touching his jaw. "Thank you."

He nodded, before bending down and catching her lips with his.

Brooklyn pulled away, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I have something I would like to ask you. But I'm worried you will take it the wrong way."

"Don't worry about that. Ask me." He stroked the hair out of her face. "I promise, i will try to not take it the wrong way."

She bit her lip and nodded. "Will you take your shirt off?"

Steve blinked, then frowned. "You want me to take my shirt off?"

"Please." She nodded.

Hesitating, he asked, "Why?"

"I want to see you."

Nodding slowly, Steve pulled his shirt off. He tossed it towards the head of the bed, not far in case he needed to put it back on quickly, and lowered his arms, waiting.

She stared at his chest, for a long time. Then, her fingers trembling slightly, she reached out an placed her hand on the center of his chest. He inhaled, feeling her touch for the first time, bringing up his hand to place it on top of hers. Brooklyn looked up at him, biting her lip, before she looked down again, where their hands rested.

"It's okay." He assured her. "It's okay."

She nodded, and twitched her fingers. He dropped his hand, waiting to see what she was going to do. Brooklyn brought up her other hand and put it on his chest, next to the first, holding them there. Closing his eyes, Steve let her.

She moved one hand over his chest, down towards his stomach, and he couldn't help the instinctual flex of his muscles in his abdomen. She skirted the edge of his sweats, moving her hand back up his chest, until it was on his shoulder. The other hand followed suit, until both hands, on his shoulder, pressed. She began pushing at his shoulders, and he allowed her to push him onto his back, adjusting himself on the bed, until the pillow was under his head. She remained kneeling next to him, leaning over him, letting her weight press down on him. Easing up, she began to explore his chest, finding a scar here, a stretch mark there. At one point both hands ran over his nipples, and he focused to keep as much of his growing arousal at bay as possible.

While her intentions in purchasing him comfortable sweats were appreciated, they did little to hide anything that might decide to pop up, and he doubted she was ready to confront that part of his anatomy any time soon.

Brooklyn put both hands on his jaw, running them down his neck, along his shoulders, and back onto his chest. He couldn't help the sound he made, deep in his throat, at the pleasure her touch did give him. She might be innocent about the act that could take place between a man and a woman, but her instincts towards certain other acts, such as the pleasure of skin on skin touch, were flawless.

Settling her hands in the center of his chest again, she shifted, hesitated, then swung one leg to bring herself to straddle his waist. Steve reached out and grabbed her thighs, trying to keep her from shifting her hips down onto his.

"Babydoll, you aren't ready for some things. So I'm going to ask you to not sit down, okay?" He could feel the blush burning his face.

Brooklyn looked surprised, then slightly ashamed. "I'm sorry. I'll stop."

She made to remove herself, and he stopped her.

"You are okay." He reassured her. "I just don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, because of something naturally occurring. You can continue, if you want, just be careful where you put your hips, okay?"

She looked at him for a moment, running a finger along his cheek under one eye, before nodding.

"Do you want me to move my hands?" He asked her, running his hands up her thighs, to rest on her hips.

Brooklyn frowned, before shaking her head. "No, they are fine."

"Okay." He smiled. "Let me know if you need me to move them."

She didn't respond, simply going back to touching his chest. She ran a hand down along his side, again skirting along the edge of the sweats he was wearing, before running it up his chest, to rest where his neck met his shoulder. Her fingers dug into his skin, nails scoring him slightly, but she held them there, almost as if she was feeling his pulse.

He kept his eyes on her face, as she watched her hand, bringing it down to the center of his chest again. Steve wondered what the fascination she had with that part of him, why she continuously returned her hand there. She shifted, bracing her weight on that hand.

Reaching down, she grabbed one of his hands on her hips, tugging gently, and he let her take it without any resistance. She brought it to her face, turning it one way, then another, looking it over before she met his eyes, and placed it on her neck. Holding his gaze, she dragged his hand down her neck to the base and began to push it into her night shirt.

"Brooklyn." he warned. But she shook her head at him.

"Please?" She paused with the base of his hand just at the opening of her shirt, where the buttons kept the part from expanding. He registered the softness of her skin, beneath his fingers, and tried to keep from flexing them, desperate to feel more.

Steve swallowed, hard. He was trying to not physically react to her touches, he really was. He knew she wasn't ready, in any way, for anything sexual. She was touching him, learning him. She tugged at his wrist again, trying to pull it down her chest, and he resisted.

"Brooklyn..." He tried again. "I don't know.."

"I'll show you." She whispered, pulling his hand down her shirt, until his palm was nestled between her covered breasts. "Do you see?"

He frowned. "I don't..."

"Do you feel it?" She pressed his hand tighter against her chest. "Do you?" She pressed her hand harder into the center of his chest. "I feel it, do you?"

Her heartbeat. She was trying to make him feel her heartbeat, against his palm. And he could. He could feel that fluttering organ, like a wild bird against his hand.

"Yes." He whispered. "I feel it."
"Do you understand?" She asked, cocking her head. "I'm free. They can't pull me back, ever again."

"No. They can't." he agreed, assured, promised her.

"Just like they can't stop your heart, they can't stop mine." She leaned forward, letting go of his wrist, to cup his cheek. "It's mine. They can't own it, anymore."

Brooklyn leaned down, pressing her lips to his, making him suck his breath in, as she pressed their chests together, hands trapped. He brought the only hand free, the one on her hip, up to tangle in her hair, as she moved her head to maximize the touch of his lips on her. He guided her, as she took the initiative, moving her lips, this way and that, testing and moving, until she seemed to make a decision, and opened her mouth, reaching out to tap her tongue against his top lip.

He was startled, but opened, reaching out to tease her, letting her dip inside his mouth, until he felt her tap his tongue with hers.

She pulled back almost immediately, but he couldn't help the stupid grin he knew was growing across his face as she left him with a soft kiss, before resting her head down on his shoulder. The weight shift allowed him to guide her body to lay on his, where his erection wasn't touching her, but there was still full body contact. She nestled her head against him, and he pressed his lips to her forehead, that stupid grin still on his face.

Brooklyn made a pleased sound, in the back of her throat, and she went limp against him, letting him bear her weight, as it settled on him. He watched as she blinked her eyes closed, and her breathing deepened. When he was satisfied she was asleep, he pressed his lips against her forehead, closing his own eyes, keeping their bodies pressed together.

Steve wasn't quite sure what had brought on her sudden need to touch him, but he was happy she had felt comfortable enough to request it. He was worried about the messenger bag, though. Her reaction to it, ever since she had left the Marino's house, was more than a little concerning. It was as if there was a time bomb in it, and she knew if she opened the bag, it was going to blow in her face. Even her request that he not touch it, the way she said it, the tone in her voice, raised alarms in his head.

There was a correlation, he realized, between the stress whatever was in that messenger bag, and her sudden need to feel him. She had turned to him to distract herself, to pull her attention away from it. While he was happy she was learning to trust him with that part of herself, he was concerned about how she had gone about it. If they had sat down, and discussed it, he might have been better prepared. He might have tried to take the edge off, before climbing onto the bed with her.

It was dis-concerning, he thought to himself, that for someone who was so battle ready all the time, how easily she caught him unprepared.

Steve wondered if she did it on purpose, or if it was so instinctual in her, to jump into situations without warning. If it was instinctual, she would have made a formidable opponent, to anyone in a fight.

For now, until he could get Sam to her, to work with her, he was going to have to make her understand, she had to share what was going on in her head. Brooklyn had to tell him when she was feeling overwhelmed.

Because the hard fact of it was, he was more than ready to move their relationship forward. She was not. And until she was, he had to have fair warning, as so not to make a misstep, and scare her off completely.