Leaning against the table, Emily looked out at her class and smirked. She'd never seen the lecture hall so full or the students so attentive.

Of course, that was probably because of her guest speaker.

Steve stood a few steps ahead of her, fielding questions about his wartime experience and skillfully dodging any about the Avengers. Someone from the school paper was prowling the back of the room, snapping pictures. Phones were carefully aimed over computer screens and notebooks.

Not that she could blame them, she thought while looking at her husband with a clinical gaze. He had on his best PR-approved smile and stood in a relaxed parade rest, shifting to cross his arms over his chest or shove his hands in his pockets every few questions. The average person probably couldn't pick up on the subtle signs he was uncomfortable - the tightness of his smile, the measured pacing under the guise of keeping the room's attention - or how tired he was. But to Em, it was clear. She hoped that, after their lunch with a few of her students, he'd be able to go home and catch a few hours of sleep.

It had been almost a year since SHIELD fell, and the Avengers had done their best to track down the remnants of Hydra and recover the weapons they'd stolen as the ship went down. Tony had even come out of his brief retirement, which Pepper accepted with grace but spent most of her time on the west coast. Meanwhile, Steve was burning the candle at both ends, working with the team and searching for Bucky.

A glance at her watch showed that class was nearly over, so Emily pushed off the table and moved to his side when he finished a story about meeting Winston Churchill. Lightly, she placed a hand on his lower back and smiled at her students. "That's all we have time for today. Please join me in thanking Captain Rogers for taking time out of his busy schedule to come and speak to us all." When the class started to clap, Steve ducked his head, his lips twisting into a smirk when she joined in. "Thank you, babe," she said softly. "I owe you."

"I'm keeping count, Dr. Harthorn-Rogers," he replied, his eyes meeting hers with a promise. A few braver souls reached him and asked one last question or for an autograph. Smirking, she turned to retrieve her things before ushering him out of the auditorium and up to the History department, where a few heads poked out into the hall to watch them pass.

"We've got about ten minutes before we need to head to the restaurant," she said once safely closed in her office. "More than enough time to put your disguise back on, Clark Kent."

Steve looked at his baseball cap and jacket, which he'd tossed over her chair after running in late when a meeting ran long and chuckled. "It works better than you'd think." She hummed and stepped into his space, tilting her head up. His hands closed on her hips and pulled her closer while leaning down to kiss her. "Missed you this morning - brought you a bagel home and everything."

"You're the one who fell asleep in the other room, and I had my reading group this morning. But it's good to know I've got a bagel at home waiting for me."

"I ate it." Scoffing, Em lightly shoved him away and rolled her eyes, slapping away his hands when he reached for her again. Instead, she circled her desk and sat, quickly typing in her computer's password and pulling up her email. Steve collapsed in the chair and folded his hands on his stomach. It wasn't long until he started to snore softly.

After a few minutes, she shut down her computer and moved to his side. Up close, she could see the purple bruises under his eyes. The crease between his eyebrows would soon be permanent with the near-constant scowl he sported at work. With a sigh and wishing she could let him rest, Emily gently ran her fingers through his hair. His head tilted into her touch, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Mon coeur. Baby, it's time to go." When his blue eyes finally opened, his gaze was tired when it met hers. Em let out a sad chuckle and shook her head. "As soon as we're done with lunch, you're going home and taking a nap."

"'M fine."

"We're taking a night off from work, packing, and everything else, and going to bed at a decent hour."

"Bed or to sleep?" Steve asked, attempting to put some heat behind his tired look.

"Sleep. Maybe after a solid eight hours, we can revisit that, but I don't want you falling asleep again."

"That was one time."

"A very memorable one time, at least for one of us. Does wonders for a woman's ego when her partner falls asleep during une pipe." Smirking, he moved his hand to the inside of her leg, his fingers sliding up her inseam.

"Paid you back for that too. With interest, if memory serves." Rolling her eyes, Em took a step back and pointed at his things. With his cap, sunglasses, and jacket on, they slipped out the back of the building and strolled to the restaurant where a small group of students milled outside. Steve held the door open for them and took the empty seat next to his wife, smiling at the people who seemed torn between staring at him and glancing away.

"Let's just get the awkwardness out of the way, shall we?" Emily said, putting her hand on Steve's thigh when she felt his knee bouncing. "Everyone, this is Steve. If you wouldn't mind telling him your name and specialization, then we can relax and have a nice lunch." It was good to put a face to the names, but he still felt like he was under a microscope as they ordered and ate. It wasn't until they were lingering over their drinks, his arm draped over the back of Em's chair, that his phone vibrated. He glanced at the message under the table.

"Excuse me." She watched him walk towards the bathroom and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. When he came back, the tightness around his eyes told her enough "I need to head out if I'm going to make my meeting. It was nice meeting you all," Steve added, nodding to the rest of the table. Leaning down to kiss her cheek, he said softly, "Already took care of the bill for the table. Text me when you can talk."

"Thanks. I'll see you tonight." The smile he gave her didn't quite reach his eyes.

OOO

After a quick conversation to tell her that he was going out into the field again, Steve and the team went radio silent. Emily tried not to worry but found it hard to stop looking at her phone frequently. Any hope she had of being better informed about what was going on with the Avengers based under the same roof was stamped out quickly. Maria Hill instituted a wall of silence between her carefully vetted support and logistics teams and everyone else in the Tower.

It wasn't that Em didn't like Maria as a person. Still, the shift from tactical suit to pencil skirt only served to disguise her espionage under a civilian veneer. News about what the team got up to was closely guarded, and Emily only knew what happened if Steve talked about it when he got home. Even Pepper, who signed Maria's paycheck, was locked out per the agreement they'd made when the latter came on board at Stark Industries. At a loss for what to do, she took up Carter's lazy spy craft – setting Google alerts.

As a distraction, she threw herself into work. There were edits to make to a journal article that had been given a revise and resubmit. She'd been ignoring an email from her editor about her book manuscript. Plus a few letters of recommendation to write. And, against his wishes, sifting through the Timeline.

The first time Steve deployed after her Senate testimony, Em decided to focus her attention on getting through the oldest Hydra materials that JARVIS had translated from German and Russian. Reading the reports - seeing the clinical descriptions of a man stripped of his humanity, viewed as merely a tool taken apart and reassembled for Hydra's own purpose - gave her nightmares. Her dreams of the Bucky she knew, the man who had teased her in a bar and stood up for them at her wedding in 1944, wove with the gruesome surgical photos and details of torture he'd endured.

Steve came home to her bleary-eyed, mixing a healthy dose of whiskey in her coffee, and made her swear not to look at it again. That lasted until the next time he left, less than a week later. His lips pressed into a thin line when he saw the progress she'd made in his absence, but Em took better care to not let him know the toll it was taking. All in all, it wasn't surprising when Sam pulled her aside to talk and a lock that appeared on the work room.

They had a loud argument that ended with her sleeping in the guest bedroom when Steve came home to find she'd tricked the maintenance crew into letting her in. Over their morning coffee, he'd extracted a promise that she wouldn't let the project overtake her own work and would be honest about the nightmares.

Em kept digital copies of her notes on an air-gapped laptop Natasha set her up with, backed up on an external hard drive once a week. Both were locked in different safes in the apartment. Tony's servers were undoubtedly secure, but after SHIELD's files were leaked, she wanted to make sure her analysis was secure.

This wasn't only Bucky's story. It was his legal defense.

While she dug into his past, Steve worked on Bucky's present with Sam. The two traced the destruction trail zigzagging the globe, comparing assassinations and explosions to Hydra files. Sam left the VA and split his time between seeing his family in Louisiana and tracking down leads, tapping his own military network. Carter, who took the downfall of SHIELD as a sign to step back from espionage and returned to England to help his grandfather run the Falsworth estate, sometimes went with him. He provided an odd tip, more than likely courtesy of Sharon, who was stationed with the CIA in Germany.

It was a sleep-deprived Emily who woke up on Tuesday morning to the first Google alerts that Tony's Iron Legion was spotted in Sokovia. She was in the shower when she got a four-word text: Inbound ETA 8 hours. He didn't respond to her question if anyone was hurt.

Unfortunately, it was a busy day at work because her students' midterm was on Thursday and they wanted clarification on the study guide. It was a welcome distraction, but Em wanted nothing more than to have her TA take over the exam review so she could be home for Steve's arrival. Instead, she forced herself to stay, knowing that - even when he got home - it wasn't likely that she'd see him for more than a few minutes before he was pulled into a mission debrief. During her graduate seminar, she purposefully left her phone in her office and tried to focus on discussing the week's book on the Russian front of World War II.

Time seemed to drag, but she managed to get through the talk and dismissed her eight students at 6:00PM. Emily mentally ran through what needed to be done before catching the train while cleaning the whiteboard. When she walked out into the hall, he stepped off the elevator, ball cap firmly in place and her jacket clenched in his fist. Aware of the looks they were getting, Em kept herself from rushing into her husband's arms. "Hey," he said, stepping into her space and giving her a tired smile. "Wanna grab dinner?"

"Yeah," she said softly, blinking away the tears of relief that sprang to her eyes. "Yeah, let me just get my stuff." He was a solid presence at her back as they walked to her office, careful not to touch in front of her colleagues. But as soon as the door closed, Emily turned and threw herself into his arms.

"Wasn't even scratched," Steve assured her, tilting her chin up to press his lips to hers. The breath she'd held for the last five days left her in a shaky rush as her eyes swept his face, noting the darker circles under his eyes but the lack of any scrapes or bruises. "You done for the day?"

"Yeah." Reluctantly, she stepped out of his embrace and turned to return the book to its spot on the shelves. Her eyes kept darting over to where he stood, hands braced on the chair and watching, as she shut down her computer and retrieved her purse from the desk drawer. He held up the jacket when she moved towards him and helped her into it, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck when she lifted her hair. Steve dropped his arm to her waist and pulled her tightly back against his chest, holding her there for a long moment.

"Missed you, Sweetheart."

"I missed you too, ma moitié."

"You hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Thought we could see if there's a good pizza place near home." Smiling, Em twisted to meet his gaze.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Alright." Once outside, Steve took her hand and led her to where his bike was parked. She put on her helmet while he got on and kicked it into life, the growl making her heart jump. He handed her his hat, which she tucked into her purse, and ran a hand through his hair as she held onto his shoulders and settled in behind him.

"Ready?" Arms wrapped tightly around his waist, she said she was, and he eased them into traffic. His hand covered hers every time they stopped at a light, and she rested her head between his shoulders to block the cold wind from her face.

Twenty minutes later, Steve turned onto a quiet street in Ditmas Park. Em felt a surge of excitement as she looked at the houses pass until he pulled into a driveway next to a grey Colonial. The front yard was littered with workbenches and plywood, but the crew had left. As soon as the engine was cut, she climbed off and removed her helmet.

Emily was home.

They'd looked for months, and every townhouse and apartment she liked was shot down. Living in Stark Tower covered a majority of her expenses, so she'd been able to save quite a bit. That increased when, for her birthday, Steve paid off her student loans, a move that was met with shock and tears. But her budget was tight with the places he liked for aesthetics, location, and safety. Their finances were kept separate, something that he struggled with, and she only carried the debit card linked to his account in case of an emergency. Tucker, tired after she vented about the process again, finally pointed out the obvious - she couldn't afford what Steve clearly needed to feel comfortable about moving out of the Tower's security.

Within two weeks of agreeing to increase their budget, they found their home - a five-bedroom, five-bath free-standing house on the outskirts of Brooklyn. Em was charmed by the brick chimney that ran from the ground floor to the third, exposed pipes, and hardwood floor. The top floor was an open loft that spanned the whole length of the house. She loved the two walk-in closets and huge master bath, complete with garden tub and separate shower. The pocket door at the staircase base made sure they had privacy from the four bedrooms on the second floor. The massive basement had enough room for Steve to have a home gym and office, with its own full bathroom.

It was also the location for the bunker and his armory. Panic rooms were being retrofitted into the main floor (hidden closet with a staircase to the bunker), her office on the second floor, and reclaimed space from the loft bathroom. All of the windows had been replaced with bulletproof glass. Steve planned to have Nat and Clint test the security and make updates as needed, and Tony would help set up a program to sweep for unauthorized surveillance.

But it was home, Em thought as she climbed the front porch steps and waited for Steve to open the front door. The tension left her shoulders when she stepped inside, eyes darting up the staircase before walking through the enormous open space she'd decided was going to be the dining room. Her fingers trailed on the marble countertops as she moved towards the sink to look out into the backyard.

"We're gonna need curtains," Steve said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"We need furniture," she chuckled. "Any chance you're going to be here this weekend?"

"More than likely," he replied. She heard the smile in his voice when he leaned down to whisper, "We got it." Emily spun around, her eyes wide.

"You did?"

"It's at the Tower, and Strucker's in custody." She stared at him for a long moment before laughing.

"And you wanted pizza to celebrate that? You've only been looking for the scepter for - "

"I wanted my wife, a night not thinking about work, and pizza."

"Well," Em smirked, hooking her fingers in his belt loops and pulling him closer. "All hail the conquering hero." He smiled into their kiss, one hand cupping her cheek and the other squeezing her ass. When her lips parted, Steve's tongue delved into her mouth, and he took half a step towards her, pressing her back against the counter. When she laughed against his mouth, he lifted her onto it and stepped between her thighs, moving to cup her breasts as she rucked up his shirt and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Steve quickly pulled away, his gaze fixed on something behind her. Emily turned and saw that their neighbor across the yard had turned on their living room light. "Definitely need curtains. And a fence," he muttered.

"Just waiting on an approved contractor for the fence," she whispered in his ear before pressing her lips to the hinge of his jaw. Steve's hands flexed on her ass before shifting to lean against the counter next to her. His eyes darted around their house, and he shook his head. "What?" Em asked, propping her chin on his shoulder.

"Still can't believe it sometimes. Growin' up, I never thought I'd own a place like this in a million years."

"Well, I did," she shrugged. "What little girl doesn't dream about having a multi-million dollar house with a panic room on every floor?" When he chuckled, she pulled away to look at him. "Are you regretting not getting the brownstone? This is a lot of house for us."

"No. I wouldn't… I love this place, knowing that we're going to be safe here once the renovations are done. And that yard… my Ma would have been happier if I'd had that instead of playin' stickball in the streets." A bittersweet smile flit across both of their lips as they thought about the family they'd pushed off for the moment. With a sigh, Emily slid off the counter and grabbed Steve's hand.

"Alright, Brooklyn, let's go see what they've done so far, and then I'll put in a delivery order, so it's ready for us when we get back to the Tower."

"We can order here - "

"You need to sleep. As much as I love that accent" - she paused to stand on her toes and kiss him - "it only comes out when you're exhausted. So we're going to go home, eat dinner, and then you're going to bed."

"Dessert, then bed," he countered, his hand dragging up her sides to stroke the curve of her breast.

Later, after they'd toured the house and he'd shuffled off to bed while she cleaned up the kitchen, Steve curled up on her chest, snoring as she held him close. Em stroked the back of his neck, taking comfort in his weight pressing her into the mattress, and subtle muscle spasms in his thigh trapped between her own.

When his hold on her tightened and he grunted, pressing his nose into the crook of her elbow before settling again, Emily smiled. Even with all of the stress and anxiety of being with him, and the never-ending security measures she had to adhere to, moments like this - her husband safe and asleep in her arms - made it all worth it.

Author's Note: I don't know what to say, my friends, except I'm sorry. The last few months have been crazy professionally and personally, and the pandemic has sapped my energy to pursue anything creative. I hope you'll forgive me. I managed to bang this chapter out, and a majority of the next, over the last two days, and - now that my new laptop has arrived - I'm hoping to get back into writing. This chapter kicks off the 2 chapter arc for AoU. The next chapter will be considerably longer than this one, but this has more character check in than that will.

Anyways, une pipe is a blow job, in case you're wondering what Steve fell asleep in the middle of lol. The house I based theirs off of is located at 554 E 18th St in Brooklyn. So gorgeous!