A/N: Josefin, thank you for the kind words. (I researched the hell out of this, so I hope you don't come to regret your appreciation of the army details...) And Jas. Yes. I live to make you cry :P


What Steve wanted was to swing by my house. My old house, I needed to think of it as. To ask my sister for the favor.

Sarah had given up work a week or so back. She found being on her feet too much, plus there was the fact that she was still puking like it was going out of fashion. I guessed no one wanted a pregnant stomach bumping them anyway, as they had their hair done. The girls at the beauty parlor had thrown her a little party on her last day and Tony had picked her up, because there were presents for the baby and all her stuff to bring home. All her stuff.

They were surprised to see us, of course, and she looked equally horrified and sad, when Steve asked her. But she said yes.

And I sat on the stairs, feeling sick to my stomach, listening to the sound of her clippers in our kitchen, as she cut off Steve's hair.

"Hey." Tony was looking down at me. He sat on the stair, squeezing next to me.

"He's gonna be pissed, if he did this and they find him 4F after all," I said, covering the wobble in my voice real good.

"You want them to find something wrong with him?" The question was quiet, gently meant, and I knew I was supposed to say, no, of course not. But honestly? I sank to a new low in my opinion of myself.

I wished that Steve had something wrong with him. A heart murmur, for real, never mind the coffee overdose idea. TB, maybe, that he'd never had diagnosed or any symptoms for. Something wrong with his eyes. Flat feet, for Chrissakes, whatever the hell that actually meant - feet had to be flat for you to walk on them, didn't they? Something, anything.

Don't make him go, I don't want him to go, don't make him go.

"Honey, you know why he's doing this here?" I looked at Tony as he spoke, quietly again. "He wants it to be his choice about his hair. Not something they did to him. You get that?"

The noise of the clippers had stopped. I bit my lip and nodded. Tony smiled tightly.

"You gotta be strong for him. We all do."

I nodded again.

"Holy shit!" Steve had gone into the bathroom, to look in the mirror. When I got to the door, he was rubbing his hand over his head as he stared at himself. He turned to me and I knew I had a split second to react, to choose how this was going to go.

Oh. Oh, his beautiful, sexy, hair.

"Christ," I drawled. "Who the hell knew you had such a funny shaped head?"

His mouth twitched in an effort at a half smile. "Yeah. Figured I'd better get you legally caught before you found out the truth."

"Oh, I think 'weird skull' is on the list of things you can get an annulment for..." I went up to him and reached up to stroke the buzz cut. I could tell from his eyes that he knew damn well I was making the best of this and he was grateful. He kissed me and I slid my hands around the back of his head.

"Shit!" I whispered, like I was suddenly thinking of something.

"What?"

"What am I gonna hold onto?" I teased, pretending to grab a handful of air at the back of his head.

That made him snort with laughter and he grabbed me close, breathing in my ear, "Let's go home an' find out."

And that would have worked as a plan, except the guys were already there. Jo and Lynette too. All sitting on the porch, bottles in hand, even Ponyboy. Soda's eyes went wide as Steve climbed out and they all saw his hair. They stood up, to greet us.

"Evie, I'm sorry, I tried to tell them," Joanne apologized as we came up the path. She glared at Soda. "I said, 'This is their honeymoon night!'"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Like that wasn't in the back of the Chevy, years ago."

"Excuse me!" I said, indignantly, swatting at him. "It was not!"

Swatting him from the other side, Darry joined in with, "Soda!" just as,

"WHOA!"

Two-Bit yelled out loud, making everyone jump, as Steve opened the front door with his key. Jo and Lynette had been hugging me and congratulating me on the fact that I was married, but we all stared at Two-Bit in surprise, wondering what was up.

He regarded Steve like he was disgusted with him. "Man, do you know nothing about freakin' tradition?" And with that, he scooped me up and tossed me into a shocked Steve's arms. He staggered and nearly dropped me, as Two-Bit crowed, "Carry her over the goddamned threshold!"

And so my married life started with everyone laughing fit to bust and Steve depositing me in the entryway so he could take a swipe at Two-Bit and tell him not to treat me like a football and the whole damn lot of us were piling in, grabbing glasses and pouring drinks and if it had been any other day, and for any other reason, it would have been...fun.

For those seconds when I forgot what was going to happen in the morning, it was fun - when the guys compared Steve's head to a tennis ball and threatened to see if he would bounce; when they tried to 'confiscate' his leather jacket because they said he didn't qualify as a greaser no more; when Soda insisted that I sit on his lap because he'd never flirted with a married woman before and Two-Bit, Darry and Steve yelled, 'Liar!' in perfect unison.

It didn't go late though, because despite everyone's best efforts to party, it was my wedding night and it was my last night with Steve for who knew how long.

"I ain't joking," Steve said firmly, as they lined up to say goodbye. "I don't want no fuss and bother tomorrow. I'm just getting on a freakin' bus, is all. I don't want no one there."

They nodded, some more obviously reluctant than others. Darry, Lynette and Pony went out, after she kissed Steve and they gave him handshakes that turned into those 'clap on the back' guy hugs. Two-Bit just hugged him right off, telling Steve he was a damn fool for not trying the coffee trick, offering to get hold of some speed instead because that would work too. I didn't catch what Steve muttered to him, because Jo was saying goodbye to me, before she kissed Steve and went out onto the porch, but I heard Two-Bit say, "I promise," before he went.

Soda didn't say anything for a couple of seconds. I stood back a ways. Jo and I were like sentries, either side of them, as they faced off in the entryway.

"So, I could write you, I guess."

Steve rolled his eyes."Jesus, like it won't be tough enough, I gotta go blind tryin' to read your handwriting?"

Soda smiled. "There are chickens scratching in a yard..."

"...would be ashamed of that pathetic effort..."

"...Curtis," they both finished together, smirking at whatever memory they were sharing, whatever teacher they were picturing. Soda shook his head.

"The fucker never would use my first name."

"I ain't sure he ever believed it was true. I still got his hubs out back," Steve added the last comment conversationally.

Soda laughed, his face lighting up, then instantly falling as he grabbed onto Steve, pulling him into a hug. I looked away, tried not to overhear. When I looked back, Soda was leaving the porch, Joanne tucked in under his arm, her hand patting him as she spoke to him quietly. I was pretty sure he was crying.

I walked past Steve to close the front door. When I turned back, he had a hold of himself.

"I guess we should clean up," I said.

He shook his head. "Tomorrow."

I nodded, walking into his outstretched arms and kissing him. He barely tasted of Jack; the guys had all drunk far more than him.

"You think you can go for a guy with short hair?" he asked me, almost seriously.

I pulled a face. "Maybe I secretly had a thing for short hair, all the time. How about you, you got a thing for married women?"

Steve picked me up, heading for the bedroom in his own version of carrying me over the threshold. "Only one," he said. "Only one, babe."

xxXxx

Mind over matter. I reckon I could have walked over hot coals that morning. Steve didn't want a fuss? Steve wasn't getting a fuss. He was quiet in the car, the whole way there. When he pulled up outside the bus station, he selected a place right at the edge of the parking lot.

"Don't want you to get boxed in, you'll haveta back out," he explained.

"I can drive, including backing out, thank you!" I objected. It didn't sound authentically snippy to me, but he relaxed some.

He only had one small bag. He wouldn't exactly be needing much.

"You'll write me, tell me how it's going, what Hollings says about Jay?" The millionth time of asking.

"If I can be bothered." I was already planning my first letter.

Every noise of an engine, or brakes hissing, or the bus doors opening, sounded like a second lost to me, whole chunks of time breaking off, crumbling away before I could grab them. We stood surrounded by dozens of people and I couldn't have told you what a single one looked like.

I'd tucked my hand into Steve's, the second we stepped away from the Chevy. Normally he would have called me sissy, claimed it wasn't cool for a greaser to hold hands on the street, even with his girl. He hadn't say a word.

Suddenly he caught me up in a hug, crushed me to his chest, whispered, "I love you."

And I wished he didn't.

I wished he'd said 'Me too.' I wanted things normal. I wanted things back to how they were.

"Please be safe." It was more like a whisper than I meant it to be. More like a prayer to be honest.

"Nothing in this world's gonna stop me coming back to you." He put me down, touched my hair, my face, like he was memorizing me. "You an' me, Evie, that's how it is." He kissed me, then held onto me, resting his chin on my head. I wanted to freeze that moment, hold him there forever. "Don't cry. It'll be okay." He breathed the words into my hair.

"I ain't cryin'," I lied, swallowing hard and not blinking.

He nodded. And I ignored the fact that his eyes were shining too. Mind over matter. I stood there watching as he climbed on the bus, a fake smile plastered on my face. I stood there waving as it pulled away. I stood there until I couldn't see the bus any more.

When I made my way back to the Chevy, I was still holding the tears back.

Two-Bit hopped down off the hood.

"What're you doin' here? Steve said he didn't want anyone coming down."

"Did he see me? Nah. I let him have his quiet, dignified exit," Two-Bit said indignantly. "'Sides, I didn't come for him, did I?" He held out his arms as I started sobbing.

xxXxx

If the bus station had seemed unreal, the house was more so.

I ignored Steve's careful parking to make it easier for me and I let Two-Bit drive the Chevy home. Home. That word again. My key stayed deep in my purse and I used Steve's to open the front door.

"What if you come back and I've gone out dancing?" I'd asked, attempting to tease him, as he pressed his key into my hand at the bus station.

"You'll be there," he'd teased back. "Barefoot and in the kitchen, Mrs Randle, if you know what's good for you."

But not pregnant. Not even last night would make that happen. I'd asked him. Said there was no reason to be careful any more, said that I would be happy for it to happen. He'd shaken his head sadly and told me that he didn't want to miss anything so important.

"We got time, babe. We'll have as many kids as you want, when I get back."

"You want me to get lost?" Two-Bit asked, hovering on the porch. I told him no, told him I'd make him coffee and he could help me clean up from last night.

Despite what Steve had said, we hadn't got to it, of course. We spent the night in each others' arms, shaking ourselves awake every time we dropped off, wringing out every second. Steve had said he would sleep on the bus. I had no idea what I would do with my day. With any day now.

"Remember what we said about the house, yeah? Everything we talked about, any changes you like." Steve had kissed my forehead as we lay curled around each other. "I left a letter for the bank, to put the account in both our names, you'll have to go in and sign something. All the stuff for the power company and that shit is the drawer..."

I'd tried to stop him, but he kept talking check books and insurance policies and bills until I kissed him hard and told him to shut up. Told him I knew what I was doing, he could trust me.

"Just want to know you're okay, babe."

I walked into the front room, looked at the mess.

"Glory, that Ponyboy sure can drink," Two-Bit said with a wink, grabbing empty beer bottles from where he himself had been sitting.

"Yeah, he's a worry." My voice sounded hollow.

Passing Steve's bedroom, I stopped and stared at the unmade bed.

I'd sat right there and watched him as he packed. He'd picked up his shaving kit, that kind of thing. He'd paused for a second with a half used can of pomade in his hand, then he screwed the top on tight and tossed it across to me.

"Guess you can find a home for that."

"Tink?" I had no idea how long I'd been standing there. Two-Bit steered me into the kitchen and put a mug of coffee in my hands. "You want me to run you back to your mom's?" he asked, worry written all over his face.

I said yes, which surprised him, but I followed it up by saying that I meant, would he help me pick up a few things? Help me move in properly.

"You sure about that? You don't gotta do that right away."

I did, because if I didn't do it now, I might never have the guts.

xxXxx

Sarah wasn't really up to running up and down the stairs, which meant that I got to shove my stuff into boxes and bags without her advice in my ear. She still wanted to talk me out of moving. I tried to explain why it was so important to me, to be in Steve's house, to look after his things. I didn't think she understood.

"Look at it this way, you get a nursery to decorate now," I told her, with as fake a smile as I'd ever plastered on. Ma said quietly that I should still think of it as home and go there if I ever wanted to. I said I would, to make her happy.

I looked around my room. Hesitated over the last thing, memories flooding over me:

"I ain't gonna be able to sleep with fuckin' Paul Newman lookin' at me."

I took the poster down carefully, rolling it up and carrying it downstairs, where Two-Bit was waiting on the porch.

"Evie, I...I don't know if I should've..." Sarah was practically squirming as she held out an envelope folded into a little package. "But I...I mean, I don't know if you want..." I realized she was getting a little teary eyed. Hormones are a bitch when you're pregnant.

But when I saw what she'd done, saw that the envelope contained the longest curls of Steve's hair and she'd kept them safe for me, my own eyes were more than misty as I hugged her.