Brooklyn hummed the familiar tune her father used to, as she applied her makeup, making sure to keep a steady hand. She didn't want to mess it up, and maybe have to start over.

It was Valentine's Day, and Steve said they had plans.

What those plans were, she didn't know. He had been rather closed mouthed about it.

From what she understood, that was to be normal, given the commercial holiday based on love. Men who were in committed relationships, or even wanting to be in one, tended to be secretive regarding their plans for how they intended to woo their respective partners, on this day. Granted, the past few weeks he had been a bit more secretive. Hiding things, hiding phone calls. That sort of thing. She hadn't minded, seeing as his affections were just as strong, if not stronger, than when they had first laid together.

She leaned into the mirror, inspecting the lines she had just put down with the eyeliner, before nodding and reaching for the mascara. Steve might prefer her without make up, but if he was going all out, the way she was suspecting he was, she wanted to at least put in the effort to make sure no one would judge him for her appearance.

She had helped with those plans, as much as she was able. She had arranged for Juliana to go spend the night with Mrs. De Luca, the old widow more than happy to look after the little girl for the night. She had admitted she had missed spending time with Juliana, and had even offered to keep her for the next day, if needed. Brooklyn had assured her they would let her know, as soon as possible.

Stepping back from the bathroom sink entirely, she took another look, before grinning, and nodding. Once she added the lipstick, she would be perfect. It wasn't heavy, like she used to wear at the club, but it was a bit more than the usual mascara and light lipstick she wore when running errands. She reached for the setting spray, giving herself a quick spritz, waving her hand in front of her face to encourage it to dry faster, before leaving the bathroom, and entering the bedroom. There she stripped off the bathrobe she had put on after her shower, to do her hair and her makeup. She tossed the bathrobe on the bed, and reached for the lingerie set she had set out, before taking her shower.

She knew red was the traditional color for the holiday. God knew, there had been nothing but red, and white, and pink, all over the city, everywhere she went, for weeks now. Hell, she had worn a shade or two of the different colors for Steve's Valentine's day present. But for tonight... tonight she was hoping to seduce him into what she hadn't been able to push him into.

Maybe tonight she would get him to lose control and return to how she wanted him to be.

Slipping the lace and silk up her legs, she worked it over her hips, adjusting it so it was comfortable, before making sure the straps crossed properly. The open cups were a bit tight under her breasts, but she ignored it, as she slid the straps over her shoulders. The whole ensemble was basically an invitation to be fucked, according to the bright eyed sales lady at the store. She had been more than happy to help Brooklyn, when she had explained what she was trying to do. She had steered Brooklyn away from the leather and fishnet options. Away from the fetish gear, with the buckles and the o-rings. Towards the... nicer options, she would guess? This one was one that had grabbed Brooklyn's attention. It was basically built of straps of lace and silk, thin straps that criss crossed her body. Stroking her hands over her bare nipples, she shivered in delight, squeezing her thighs together as the tingles and throb of her body centered in her core. Inhaling deeply, she reached for the pasties that went with the outfit, putting one between her teeth for the moment, ripping the back of the sticky side of the other, turning to the mirror over the dresser to make sure it was in the right place before smoothing it down, covering her nipple. She repeated the process with the other one, grinning, and nodding with satisfaction.
She was, quite simply, bringing out the big guns.

If this failed, she didn't know what to do. The possibility that Steve was going to be pleased with how they had been doing things the past few weeks was... a bit disheartening. It almost made her sad, to think that if simply admitting their love for each other calmed him so much that he didn't feel the need to correct her anymore, that she almost wished they had never said the words.

But she loved him.

And if loving him meant that this was how things were going to be, from now on, than she would take it, rather than not have him at all. If, after tonight, he no longer gave any indication that he was inclined to be rough with her anymore, she would accept it.

Tonight was the last fight for it, though.

She sat on the bed, sliding the silk stockings up her leg, adjusting them before hooking them to the straps that fell over her hips, reaching between her legs to make sure the edges of the silk didn't cut into her lower lips. It wouldn't do to make things more uncomfortable for her self, than it already was going to be.

Brooklyn slid the high heels on, enjoying the continued theme of the lingerie with the shoes, slipping her fingers under the lace around her feet, adjusting the straps around her ankles to be more comfortable, standing to give a small spin with a giggle.

Maybe she should be dressing up more often. It was so much fun, really!

And even if she didn't end up with a spanking tonight, she was sure Steve was going to enjoy this outfit, once he took the dress off of her.

Picking up the dress in question, she worked it over her head, trying not to disturb the curls she had taken such care to construct too much. As soon as it was over her shoulders, and her arms in the sleeves, she was able to wiggle the tight fabric down over her hips, adjusting the slit enough that it still remained slightly modest. The whole dress, with the exception of the slit was modest. It had to be, to hide the straps of the lingerie underneath. The sleeves went high on her shoulders, and the front dipped just about to above the top of her breast bone, showing just a hint of cleavage. The skirt fell to mid calf, with the slit ending just above her knee.

She went over to the dresser, flipping open the lid of the jewellery box, picking through the options until she found a pair of earrings that would look like they would go well with the outfit, cocking her foot up as she slipped them into the holes in her ears, tilting her head side to side to watch the diamonds sparkle in her dark hair, reaching down to pick up the tiny jewelled replica of his shield that Steve had given her, going back to her humming as she worked the clasp to make sure it stayed on her neck, adjusting the shield to rest on her skin. Stepping back, she nodded, clapping her hands.

Perfect!

Just as she was leaving the bedroom, her phone started ringing, and filled with such joy, she answered.

"Steve!" She laughed. "I'm ready!"

He was laughing back. "Good. I want to do this properly. So, old fashioned, tonight. I'm gonna knock on your door, like a gentleman, alright?"

Brooklyn grinned. "If that's what you want."

"I want to do this right, for once." he sighed, before chuckling. "And it's what you deserve."

"Aren't I supposed to decide what I deserve?" She shook her head, leaving the bedroom, going into the hall to the living room. "I thought that was what woman's liberation was all about."

"Not tonight." He denied. "Tonight, I get to decide what you deserve."

"Hurry up, then." She shook her head. "I'm all dressed."

"Good things come to good girls who wait." He promised, and she had to squeeze her thighs again at his tone. It was almost... God, maybe she had put on the lingerie for no reason! Maybe he was going to cave, and go back to the way things should be! Maybe her valentine's day gifts wouldn't be needed, after all!

She did a little happy dance, her heels tapping on the floor, at the thought.

Although, the effort she put into those gifts did seem like a waste...

Maybe she should put them away, for another day? In case he backslid?
She went over to the kitchen counter, looking at the big box with the red bow, and the photograph album, also with a bow on top of it. "How long do I have to wait?"

"Not long." He sounded a little distracted, then cleared his throat. "Okay. Off the phone. Wait for my knock, like a good girl."
"Yes, sir!" She grinned, turning to go back into the bedroom. She had forgotten to get her purse. "Full of anticipation."

He laughed. "Good girl. I won't be long. Be ready."

"Always." She shivered. "Steve, I love you."

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a happy sigh. "I love you, too, Babydoll. I won't be long. See you in a bit."

He hung up, and she picked up the purse, sliding the phone into it, before all but dancing into the bathroom, reaching for the lipstick that she had chosen for the night. Uncapping the deep red, she carefully applied it to her lips, rolling them when she was done as she put it in the purse as well. One last fluff of her hair, and she considered herself done.

Then, like a good girl, she went and sat at the table to wait.

She folded her hands on the tabletop, and waited, wondering what exactly Steve had planned. Other than the possible conclusion for the night, she wasn't really aware of the plans he had said he had for the night. Dinner, definitely. After that though, it could go many ways.

If she encouraged him to open his gifts, it might go the way she wanted it to.

It had been interesting, going through the items and trying to figure out which would, first off, stand up to how strong she and Steve were. Second, had been how much she could actually see them using the items. Too many were intriguing and thought provoking. In the end, the sales lady who had helped her with the lingerie had helped her choose things that were more... beginner friendly. Not that Brooklyn thought Steve was a beginner, but seeing as how Brooklyn considered herself still to be a beginner, it had seemed smart. If it seemed too mentally intimidating, she passed by it. Only one or two of the items had been vetoed or pushed by the sales lady.
She really was going to have to leave a good review for the store. Maybe even call the store to encourage the manager to make sure that sales lady was treated right. If everything went well, tonight, Brooklyn was sure she would be back, for further purchases.

The same could be said of the photographer. If Steve ended up liking the photos, she would be contacting the photographer again, maybe do it again for his birthday. The photos were tame, compared to some that the photographer had taken in the past. Ginny, the lovely butch lesbian who had been the most logical choice.

When Brooklyn had met the woman, the first thing Ginny had said was, "Please let me photograph you. I need to get that face on film."

Slightly taken aback, Brooklyn had struggled to explain what she wanted, only to have Ginny nod, and grin.

"You want to take salacious photos for your guy. But you don't want overt ones. Just... slightly revealing ones. No genitals exposed, just hinted at." She had winked at Brooklyn. "I can do that. Just... if they turn out the way I think, let me use them for promotional reasons? I mean... that face, and those eyes... you are perfect... And I am not ashamed to admit, that if you were willing to swing my way, I would try to tempt you away, if only for a night."

"Thank you." Brooklyn had blinked, and shrugged it off. Then she had gone to explain that she needed to have as much privacy as possible, and if Ginny could keep her assistants down to one.

It had quickly been agreed upon, and a date set. Brooklyn had showed up to the studio with a suitcase full of outfits, each one designed to tempt and tease Steve, while also showing off her attributes to the best possible advantage. Hours later, after changing outfits, changing her hair, changing her makeup, following Ginny's instructions on how to pose and how to hold herself, she was satisfied with the initial results. Ginny had already picked out a few photos she wanted to keep for her own portfolio, and a date for the photos to be delivered set.

Ginny had questioned the insistence of Brooklyn wearing the necklace in every photo. Even the use of it as a binding around her wrists for a shot where Brooklyn held those bound wrists behind her back, while turning her head slightly to look over her shoulder. Done in black and white, while on her knees on a bed, the only item of clothing being a pair of lacy panties, it was one of Brooklyn's favorites, and the one she had put on the first page of the photo album.

She was sure Steve would enjoy it, as well.

She was sitting there, still prim and proper, her hands folded, and legs crossed at the ankle, when an insistent knock sounded at the door.

She sprang up, taking a breath as she smoothed her dress down, walking over to the door and putting her hands on the lock and the knob. Taking another deep breath, she put on the most inviting smile she could, opening the door.

And her smile fell.

It wasn't Steve. It was Chad, the annoying neighbor from downstairs. Despite everything Steve and she had done, short of beating the absolute fuck out of the clueless man, he still kept coming around. After the revelation about her pheromones, Steve had simply shrugged, and suggested that was the reason. Despite what she may have personally felt about the man and his pushy, and sometimes insulting, manner, his genetics must have been close enough to be acceptable that her pheromones affected him. And considering they lived in the same building, and there was no way to keep him from avoiding it, her pheromones must have kicked on a soft obsession for her.

Not so much that it had become a danger, and she nor Steve had felt a need to actually deal with it, beyond simply rejecting him every time he came around, but just enough that she had noticed it. Perhaps they had been a bit premature, though.

He stood, his unnaturally white smile gleaming in the lights of the hall, his hair wet looking with gel, a dark red button down shirt tucked into a pair of slightly wrinkled pants. He held a single blood red rose in one hand, with what looked like a cheap heart shaped box of chocolate, complete with cartoon characters, in the other.

"Hello, Pretty Lady!" He winked at her, before slowly licking his lips. "I see you are all ready to go! I was hoping to take you out tonight. I wanted to ask if you would be willing to be my Valentine. But I guess I don't have to ask, do I? Look at you, already waiting for me!"

She took a step back, frowning. "I'm sorry?"

"It's your lucky day, Pretty Lady!" He followed, and she tightened her grasp on the door, to keep him from following her into the apartment. He leaned his shoulder heavily on the door anyway, and while she could have shut the door in his face with little to no effort, her personal conditioning of hiding her own strength asserted itself. "I'm gonna take you out on the town, have a bit of fun, and when we get back here, I'm gonna rock your world!"

"No." She blinked. "Thank you. But no. I'm good. I have plans."
"Your plans are with me, and you know it." He laughed, lightly, a slight maniacal look in his eyes. "It's not like that man you've been wasting your time with is gonna do the job, considering what I've been hearing lately. You used to scream, every night. Now you barely whimper. What happened, Pretty Lady? He peter out?"

She scoffed at the idea of Steve Rogers petering out, in regards to anything, let alone sex. Then what he was saying sank in, and she felt a shudder cross her skin. "You've been listening to us?"

"It's kinda hard not to, when my bedroom is right under yours." He rocked his head to the side. "Lemme tell you. I thought you were an ice queen. But then he got in there, and it lead to more than a few pleasurable nights on my side." He licked his lips again. "I can't wait to hear you make those sounds, in person."

"That's not happening." She shook her head. "Like I said, I have plans."

"And those plans can change. Do you really think that pretty boy poser is going to give you what you want, tonight?" He reached out, letting the flower graze her arm. "I know what a woman like you needs. I can give it to you. When I'm done, you'll forget all about the pretty boy, and know that I am the only one who will ever be what you need."

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you." she took a deep breath. "I'm not interested. I'm happy with Steve. We are happy. We love each other. I don't know what else there is to say."

Chad pressed his shoulder harder against the door. "Please. That's not love. Love doesn't exist. If anything it's his dick overruling his head. Besides, even if he is a pretty boy, he's got to know there's no future for a woman who used to show off her body for other men, for money. Oh, yes, I know all about you, Pretty Lady. I was there the night you danced last. God, but you made me hard."

And now she felt violated. "Look, you need to leave."

"No." He grinned. "No, I don't. if anything, I think I am right where I need to be."

She blinked, unsure if what she was hearing was true. "Are you seriously not understanding me? I am telling you 'no', and to get the away from me."

"Please." he scoffed. "A woman always says no.... until she starts saying 'yes'."

"This woman is saying no and meaning it." She had decided she was done being nice. Let alone done being polite. "In fact the idea of you even touching me is... repugnant...."

She pressed on the door, and she felt him start to be pushed back. But that wasn't enough for her.

"I could even go as far to say that the idea of you leaving a single skin cell on me.... it makes want to regurgitate every ounce of food I have ever eaten since I grew teeth." She followed him as she pushed him out into the hall, away from her door. "And yet you seem to think showing up here, with the cliché single rose, and a drug store box of children's chocolates is enough for me to drop my panties and spread my legs? Really? I mean, I don't even rate a little bit more effort than that?"

"I mean..." he backed up, as she stalked towards him, almost meeting his eyes in the shoes she was wearing. And despite how she was dressed, she dropped the passive act that she would freely admit to going through her daily life wearing. For once, she let him see the animal, the predator that lurked beneath her facade of humanity. The humanity she wore to make those around her feel safe. The humanity she struggled with almost daily to keep. "I figured..."

"You figured you would just show up, after months of listening to what we were doing in our bedroom, and just.. what? Insert yourself into something that you were never invited to? Disparage my boyfriend, who makes me so happy, and who loves me, despite my insanity....?" She shuddered as she reached out, pushing the centre of his chest, until he was against the wall opposite of her apartment door. "He is willing to go to the ends of the earth to make me happy. He bends his own moralities, to be with me. He ignores my craziness, and brings me calm, when all I want is to watch the world burn... and you think he's... what was it you called him... a 'pretty boy poser'?"

Chad appeared to be going pale under his fake tan. She eyed the color of his skin with bemused interest. She could feel her fingers curling, her nails extended. It would be so easy to claw off his skin, strip by strip, while he whimpered in pain... she didn't even need a knife...

"Who are you?" Chad whispered, flinching when she twitched her hand slightly.

"No, the question is, who the hell do you think you are?" She curled her lips, inhaling over her tongue. She could taste his fear... god, it was delicious...

"Brooklyn." Steve's voice stopped her short. "Enough."

She didn't break her concentration from Chad. She hadn't even noticed that Steve had arrived. "He thinks he can give me what you won't."

"I said, enough." he intoned, the darker voice making her shiver, the hair on the back of her neck spiking. "I will handle it."

"No." She snarled. "I'm done with him."

"Brooklyn." Steve came over, the crinkle of cellophane falling to the floor. His hand wrapped around her upper arm, and he tugged her away from Chad. "I said, I will handle this. Get inside. Now."

She jerked on her arm, but he held on. "I will not. I am done waiting."
He flipped her so she was facing him, and reached up, wrapping his hand around her neck, squeezing gently. Bending his head down, he whispered a kiss to her forehead. "Babydoll. I have this. I promise. Go inside, and take a few breaths."

She resisted, still. "Don't you dare, Rogers. I swear to fuck, I will-"

"Watch your mouth." He snarled, his eyes darkening and narrowing. "I think I gave you an order, Babydoll."
"Stuff your orders." She tried to pull away, and he tightened his hand on her neck. She shivered, and felt her knees start to go weak. Why, of all goddamn times for him decide to return to how things used to be, he had to chose when she was about to say fuck it, and slit the throat of an annoying neighbor. "I'll fucking do what I want."

His jaw worked, and he glared at her. "Brooklyn. In your apartment, now. I will deal with you, after I handle him."

"He's been listening to us. At night. He's been... touching himself." She accused, narrowing her eyes, bringing one of her hands up to touch the wrist of the hand around her neck. "He's seen me naked. He saw me. At the club."

He inhaled sharply. "I understand. I will handle it. He won't be a problem anymore."
"I'll handle it." She tried pulling away, but he pulled her closer instead. "I'll have his bones ripped from his body."

"No." Steve growled. "I said I will handle it, and I will."

It was a battle of wills. Challenging each other for dominance. And as he narrowed his eyes at her, she capitulated. She backed down. She gave way.

"There's my Babydoll." His purr of satisfaction made her flutter, squeezing her thighs against the urge to arch in and rub up against him. He pressed another kiss to her forehead. "Inside, and wait for me like the good girl I know you are."

She whined in her throat as he let go of her neck, and he shook his head, making sure to keep eye contact.

"I'll be right in, Brooklyn." He promised. He stroked his hands down her shoulders, before nodding. "Go on."

She sighed roughly, before nodding. Turning her head she glared at Chad, who was still cowering against the wall, clutching the comical box of chocolates against his chest, crushing the rose he had brought. She could have made threats, promises, anything... instead, she just rolled her eyes at him, turning to return to the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind herself. She was still fuming, now that Steve was no longer holding her attention. She brought her hands up, clutching at her shoulders, trying to center herself, focusing on her breathing.

She felt like she was shaking under her skin, like it was the only thing that was keeping her together. This was not the time to fall apart. This was not the night for it.

Goddamn Chad. Goddamn herself for biting at the bait he had laid out for her. Damn her lack of self control.

There was a bang in the hallway, the door rattling slightly, followed by a man's loud cry of pain.

She took one step towards the door, stopping when she realized she had to leave it in Steve' hands.

Even with that, she listened, to the grunts and cries, the sounds of hits to flesh, what sounded like scrabbling fingernails on hard wood. She was listening to Steve let loose. She was listening to him defend her honor.

She was listening to Steve be the male she wanted, she needed.

Turning, feeling her heartbeat start to kick up, the flush crossing her skin, the heat flaring to a fire, she rushed over to the counter, picking up the box with the big red bow on it. She wanted him to know she accepted all of him. Every rough edge, every dark spot, every sharp crack. She didn't just accept it, she wanted it. She wanted to see and feel every bite of his anger, of his temper. She wanted to feel the rough edge of his hand, as much as he was willing to give her the gentle side of him.

It wasn't that she didn't like the gentle side. She loved all of him.

She was just frustrated that he now seemed to feel that he had to hide that delicious side of him, the one that called to the part of her that she had spent the better part of her life living as. So much of her life had been spent as quiet submission. To Zola, to HYDRA, to Solider, to her father, to Pierce, to all the men and people who thought she was less than human from the moment she first drew breath. All of them had dominated her, because they could, without her ability to speak out otherwise.

And now, the one man she wanted to submit to, fully and freely, seemed to not want to dominate her, anymore.

The silence in the hallway told her she had run out of time.

Taking a deep breath, and a hard swallow, she made her choice.

She dropped to her knees, setting the box in front of her, before adjusting herself so she wasn't kneeling on the skirt of her dress. She felt the stockings she had taken such care to slide up her legs ladder and tear, not built for the activity she was doing, but she ignored it. She shifted her feet, as she rested her bottom on the heels, making sure to not stab herself. Leaning forward, she placed her hands on the box, and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. Steve knocked on the door, and she grinned, before calling out, "It's open."

She heard him sigh, before he knocked again. She didn't answer.

He knocked a third time, before he opened the door, poking his head in.

Brooklyn remained on the floor, but she lowered her head.

He sighed, coming into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. She listened to his footsteps as he came around the edge of the couch, coming to a stop when he saw her.

"Brooklyn?" He asked, confusion in his voice.

She cleared her throat. "I left you a gift on the kitchen counter. And I have another one for you, here. Which one would you like first?"

"You don't want to talk about what just happened?" He was definitely confused.

"Not really." she shrugged. "You handled it. Just like you said you would. He will not bother us, again."

She felt the silk that surrounded her pussy grow damp. Under the pasties, her nipples began to throb, almost in time with her heartbeat.

"Why were you about to rip his face off?" His voice deepened, and she swallowed.

"He came to take me out. He thought he was doing me a favor, I think. He said, he no longer heard me screaming nightly. He figured you were no longer... pleasing me." she kept her eyes on the floor, feeling the wood dig into her knees, the uncomfortable feeling grounding her. "He said he would do a better job, Sir."

Steve shifted his feet, then stopped. "And how did you respond?"

"I told him no. I told him I love you. He persisted." She nodded her head once. "Then he told me that women always say no, until they say yes."

He froze, she could tell. "He said that? He said that women said no, until they say yes?"

"Yes, Sir." she swallowed again. She wanted to shift, to look up at him, but resisted. She had to show him, she had to make him understand...

"Fucking hell." he cursed, the sound of cellophane accompanying the sound. "The fucker got off light."

"I will, if you approve of it, let my crew have a go at him." Brooklyn suggested. "I told them that violence against women was no longer to be permitted. What better way to prove that, then one who... well, not exactly threatened me, but suggested that he might."

Steve sighed. "I'll look the other way."

He came over, and she saw the tips of his polished shoes enter her line of vision. "You said you had gifts for me?"

She nodded, grinning. "Which one would you like first?"

He hummed. "Which one am I going to like best?"

"I don't know." She thought about it. "One is for both of us, really. The one on the counter is for you, and you alone."

"So the box is something for the two of us to share?" he asked, as he put his hand on her head, the heat of it soaking in, causing her to close her eyes and almost purr.

"Yes, sir." She leaned up, just enough to keep her head in the palm of his hand.

He hummed again. "I guess I best go see the gift that is for me alone first, then. Such a good girl."

He moved away, and she listened as he put the cellophane down, as well as the sound of something else being set down. A box? She wasn't sure. The sound of the photo album moving, the creak of the leather as he lifted the cover, the pause as he inhaled sharply. The sound of the pages turning, his breathing growing heavier. The sharp sound of the cover being shut.

Then he was back to standing in front of her.

"That gift.." he paused, before he continued. "I have questions."

"I will answer them." she promised, shifting slightly on her knees.

"Who took those photos?" His voice was steady. She wasn't sure if he was happy or not.

Worry filled her a little bit. She had wanted to make him happy.

"A photographer named Ginny. She was very nice." She tilted her head to the side, considering. "She was more than happy to help me with what I wanted to do."

"I bet." he huffed. "Those are... very revealing photos, Brooklyn."

"No." she shook her head. "I specifically made sure nothing... really showed."

"It's the lack of showing that makes them revealing." he started to pace. "Sometimes... knowing what is under is more titillating. And I am very familiar with what is underneath all of that."

"Are you not happy with your gift?" she felt letdown. If he didn't like that gift... he might not like the one she currently had her hands on. Against her will, she lifted her head, meeting his eyes briefly, before she gained control, dropping her gaze again. "I had hoped..."

"I like it. It showed that you put a lot of thought into it. You gave me a part of yourself... one that I love seeing." he crouched down, putting a finger under her chin, lifting it. She met his eyes willingly. "I will treasure it, always. Now, you have my curiosity peaked. What's the second gift?"

She tightened her fingers along the top of the box. "Shall I open it for you, Sir?"

He grinned, his eyes already dark. "I think that is a grand idea. Open the gift for me, Babydoll."

Keeping her eyes on his, she flexed her fingers again, lifting the lid, and setting it aside, settling back so he could look into the box. His face flushed, eyebrows raising, as he saw the contents.

"Well, well." He mused, his lips pursing. "I thought I had a good girl. I guess I was wrong. We have dinner plans. I made a reservation at a very nice restaurant. I wanted to knock on your door, ask you out like a proper gentleman. Bring you flowers and nice chocolates. And what do I get, for all this effort?"

He narrowed his eyes as he met her gaze again.

"I get a bad girl." he frowned, standing up. "A very bad girl, indeed."

Her heart pounding, she swallowed against a dry mouth, before asking, "What does that bad girl get?"

"That is the question, isn't it, Babydoll?" He nodded, folding his arms, thinking about it.

Wanting to be helpful, she broke their staring, and looked down into the box. Reaching in, she pulled out the paddle the saleslady had helped her pick out. It was black leather, stitched, a good weight, the sales lady had said. Cut out, so it would leave the impression after a smack, was the word "SIR". When Brooklyn had tried it on her arm, she had been thrilled to see the word appear. It had seemed... serendipitous, when she had seen it. Considering what Steve liked to be called when they played rough.

Holding it in both hands, she took the plunge, and held it out to him. "Please, Sir?"

He kept his eyes on her, as he reached down, taking it from her. Turning it over and over, in his hands, he began to pace again. "Do you understand what you are asking, from me?"

"Yes, Sir." She nodded. "I want to be your bad girl again."

"No." He shook his head. "Do you know, really, what you are asking?"

Brooklyn felt her forehead wrinkle a bit, before nodding. "I want to return to the way things were... when we were who we are meant to be. I love what we have been doing. The love making. It's more than nice. It makes me feel so cherished. It does. But... Steve, I love what we were doing, before. The rough sex. The spanking. The grabbing. The choking. How it feels to know you are taking ownership of me, with every breath we share. All of that... I love it. And I don't know why it stopped. Why you stopped. Nothing else I have been doing seems to make you want to do it again..." She blinked, before closing her eyes. "If being in love means we don't do that anymore... maybe... should..."

"Get it out, Brooklyn." he ordered, his pacing stop. Maybe what?"

"Maybe we shouldn't use the words anymore?" She suggested, her heart sinking a bit. She did like saying the words, expressing her love for him. She loved hearing them from him, as well. But... at the same time, perhaps it was a case of one or the other. She just didn't know what she wanted more...

He came over to stand in front of her. "Brooklyn. Look at me."

She opened her eyes, meeting his.

"Never suggest that we stop telling each other we love each other. Ever." He lowered his head, his face intense. His hands were tightening around the paddle. "I never want... that's not an option." He sighed, shaking his head, his face relaxing with a look of almost dismemberment. "I was worried that... you might consider what we were doing, especially after I used the belt on you, to be abusive. That you might be... I might be damaging you. I haven't always been taking into consideration what your past was like. That too many times, a man used violence against you, to control you. I don't ever want you to associate me, what we are, with that."

"I couldn't." She shook her head. "all of them... they tried to control me... they hurt..." She took a deep breath. "They tried to dominate me, without my permission. They tried to make me submissive... when I didn't want to be. But... you? I want you to dominate me. I want to submit to you. I always have, really. Even... when you had me pressed up against that alley wall? That first night? Something in me... it recognized something in you, and it made me want to submit to you. I didn't even know who you were, and I was ready to submit. That is what I want. That is what you give me. Everything. And I want to give it back."

She reached back into the box, pulling out the leather cuffs, attached to each other with the short chain. "I want to give it to you. And have you give it back to me. Please, Steve?"

He was working his jaw. Thinking. God, he was always thinking.

"You'll let me know, the minute it's too much?" He asked slowly raising an eyebrow. "I mean it, Brooklyn. We are going to have to choose a word. Something, anything to let me know when I've pushed you too far."

She nodded. "Of course, Steve."
He nodded. Then he sighed, reaching back to scratch at the back of his head. "Well, I guess I better cancel our dinner plans. We are probably going to have to order in, because," he gave a short laugh, as he dropped his hand from his head. "Tonight? I have a feeling we aren't leaving the apartment."

The feeling of happiness, making her almost giddy with it, filled her.

"If you feel that is best." She grinned. "Sir."

A/N: Quick chapter, because i was convinced that with what's coming... It could have led to another fifteen K word chapter... and no one wants that, lol.  Vote and comment!