"Steve?" You call over your shoulder.

"Yeah?" He replies, walking into the kitchen to stand next to you.

"Do you want a bag for yourself, or should we just share one?" You ask, turning to him.

He smiles and glances at the stack of movies he brought. "Maybe we should each get a bag. I really like popcorn." He blushes.

You laugh and smile as you grab a second bag. "I was thinking the same thing."

The bag already in the microwave starts to quiet its popping, and Steve retrieves it before it has a chance to burn. He quickly drops it in one of the large plastic bowls you had set out, and jumps back slightly. You give him a questioning look before realizing the popcorn bag had been too hot, then giggle as he starts to blush. He could be so easy to embarrass sometimes.

He turns his attention back to the bag, now cool enough to be ripped open, and fills the bowl with delicious golden popcorn.

Once the second bag is done and emptied into another bowl, you turn off the lights and make for the couch. Hearing a loud thump, then a groan, you turn to see Steve bent over cradling his bowl of popcorn.

"Are you okay?" You ask.

He straightens up and limps to the couch before replying. "I stubbed my foot on your table."

You try to hold back a giggle, and take your seat next to him on the couch just as the first movie lights up the tv screen.

"I don't know how you're so coordinated on the field but so clumsy in every day life." You smile at him, throwing a piece of popcorn at him playfully.

"It takes talent I suppose." He laughs, finding the piece you threw and eating it.

You scoot closer to him and lay your head on his large shoulder. "I'm glad we're doing this, you make me laugh, and I never just get to sit and watch movies anymore. I needed this."

He looks down at you, although you can't see his face you're certain he's blushing again. "I'm glad, too. It's nice having someone around again, it gets sort of lonely being a walking fossil."

You chuckle and stuff some popcorn in your mouth. "If it helps any, you're a cute fossil."

"What?" He asks, making you realize you had talked through a mouth full of popcorn.

You chew a few times, then take a drink before repeating what you had said.

"Oh." He laughs, then furrows his brows and starts to blush for the umpteenth time.

"You definitely blush more than the average fossil." You both laugh, and he wraps his arm around you as you press play for the movie.

You feel him squeeze you slightly, then press a soft kiss to the top of your head.

6 a.m. Gun Range:

You fire off several more shots, hitting various targets as quickly as you could manage. You had been at it for a few hours already, preferring the alone time to think. You smile proudly as you see your dead center shot in every target, then turn to grab more ammo but find only a pair of boots. You look up to see Brock towering over you.

"Great job, Agent." He says, looking out to the field at your successful hits.

You simply nod and reach past his boots to find your ammo, reload your rifle, and turn your attention back to the targets. He watches for a time, and you're tempted to break the tension and ask what's been on your mind; What's up with you, Brock?

Thankfully it's not long before the rest of the team shows up, and Brock's attention is taken away from you.

You try your best to ignore him, or at least not think about him. It seems to be working, although every now and then you'll feel someone's eyes on you only to see him out of the corner of your eye.

You reach back for more ammo, but find your bag empty. Did I really use all that already? You glance down at your watch, 8:15. Wow, okay.

Glancing up at the rest of the team you see someone with a sandwich, and your stomach growls. You purse your lips and look back at your watch. Well...I did get in earlier than everyone else, skipping out for lunch shouldn't hurt.

You pack up your rifle and return it to the cage, attempting to get out and to the cafeteria before anyone takes notice of your absence. You quietly sneak out and make it to the elevator, where you let out a sigh of relief and glance down at your watch again, 8:30. You place a hand over your stomach in a futile attempt to quiet its rumbling.

"Skipping out for lunch so soon?"

You turn to see Brock standing to the side.

You silently curse your luck and open your mouth to speak, but your stomach growls louder than before, making you blush and Brock crack a smirk.

"Go ahead." He chuckles, his face softening as he steps closer. "You were here before I even was, you can be done for the day."

The elevator doors open, and you nod at Brock as you turn and step inside. Turning back to face him you smile slightly, then press the button for the floor to the cafeteria. Just as the doors start to close, Brock shoots forward and holds them open.

"Hey, uh..." He runs his free hand back through his hair and clears his throat, a habit you've noticed he only does when he's nervous. You furrow your brows and cross your arms, waiting curiously. "I was wondering if you'd wanna have dinner tonight? Maybe order in and watch a movie?"

You chew the inside of your cheek in contemplation. Maybe I was just imagining him acting weird? Your lips turn up in a half smile as you nod slightly. "Sure."

"Your place?" He asks, blushing slightly as he adds, "My place isn't exactly set up for entertaining."

You laugh, thinking of how he must have clothes strewn about his room, much less the last time he had visitors. Brock didn't seem the type to have company over. "Sounds good, as long as you bring the food and movie."

He smiles that cocky smile of his, grabs your belt, and pulls you forward for a soft kiss before finally letting the doors close between the two of you.

You're left alone in the elevator giving you time to go over what just happened. Maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing. You shrug, reminding yourself that you weren't exactly used to relationships.

Later that night:

You wake to the sound of knocking at your door, almost falling off the couch as you try to orient yourself. You shake your head and blink a few times, allowing yourself to fully wake up. "Just a second!" You call in response to another set of knocks.

You yawn and glance at your watch, past midnight?!

You open the door, expecting to see Brock but instead see Steve.

"Hey." He says, smiling and laughing slightly at what you know is probably a messy head of post-sleep hair.

You take it down briefly, only to run your fingers through it and throw it back up in a bun. "What's up, Steve?"

"I didn't mean to wake you, but I picked up some late night dinner and didn't want to eat alone. I'll let you go to bed." He smiles and turns to walk away.

"Steve, wait." You call after him, making him return to your door. "I'm actually starving, my dinner plans didn't turn out so I haven't had anything to eat."

A grin spreads across his face as he holds up a large to go bag. "Good thing I brought your favorite."

You gasp and reach for the bag, looking inside. "You're amazing!"

He laughs as you quickly move to the kitchen and start emptying the bag onto the table. You glance up to see him locking the door behind him before coming to wait patiently at the table as you unpack everything.

You blush slightly. "Sorry, I'm starving."

He laughs and shakes his head. "It's cute."

You're definitely upset that Brock had bailed on you. Again. But if anything could help, it's having Steve around.

Rumlow's POV:

"Shit." I mutter to myself as I quickly slip on a clean shirt. "I'm so late, she's going to kill me." I glance at my watch, 12: 06. "Fuck. Dammit Pierce. This was the worst night to have a late meeting."

"Shit." I curse again, grabbing the movie and food off the counter as I dart out the door/

I quickly make my way down the hall, slowing only when I turn the corner. Before long I'm standing in front of her door, taking slow deep breaths to calm myself.

It's okay, Brock. You fucked up, but she's giving you a second chance. You can't freak out and run off again. You. Can. Do. This.

I take a deep breath and feel the excitement growing as my chest tightens. A smile spreads across my face as I start to feel butterflies in my stomach again, they always seem to return any time she's around.

I raise my hand to knock, but hear her laughter coming from inside. I furrow my brow and lean closer to the door to listen. When I hear Steve's voice I jump back, feeling like a knife was just plunged into my chest. My breathing becomes shallow and painful as I quickly turn to make my way back to my own apartment, needing to get as far away as I can.

I can't believe she's with him! How could I be so stupid to think she'd want an old guy like me when she could have Mister Super Soldier himself...

I slam my door shut behind me and drop everything on the counter before grabbing a large bottle of whiskey. "You've gone soft Brock." I say to myself, taking a swig straight from the bottle. "You shouldn't have even bothered, you don't do romance, you don't do relationships." I take another swig, this one larger than the last. "She wants Mister Goody-Two-Shoes Steve."

I sit on the couch and take several more gulps before placing the bottle on the table in front of me. "She's better off..." I mutter, glancing at the now half empty bottle.

I clench my jaw and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I grip my hair tightly. She's better off... I repeat in my head as a single wet drop hits the floor between my boots.