After their meal, and as they exit the mess hall, Steve and Catherine head towards Barracks D. Cold and tired, all she wants, right now, is to have a shower and fall on her warm bed. Resting her sore muscles would be nice, sleep perfect – but she suspects either of those options will be hard commodities to come by. She rushes her steps and suddenly feels Steve's hand in hers, pulling her back. Stopping in her tracks, she looks back at him, surprise etched on her face. They are in an almost deserted area, and there is no one about at this hour of night. Catherine tugs Steve's arm, urging him not to stop, motioning with her head towards the Barracks, feeling the cold freeze her.
"Steve, come on, we can't stop in the middle of the road! Insurgents might come out of the shadows and we'll have a situation on our hands…"
"Cath, look…" he says, looking up. Her eyes follow his. "It's a beautiful night. Look at that big orange moon and those stars. Last time I saw a moon like that was at home," he continues, nostalgia invading him. He really wishes that right now, they could both be sitting on his Adirondack chairs, on his back yard, mere inches from the surf, listening to the waves and smelling the sea breeze, together.
Catherine smiles warmly at Steve, understanding why exactly he feels like this. She's been away from home, long term, for so long, that she hasn't felt longing or want for a particular place in many years. In fact, she suspects the last place she yearned for, is the same spot invading Steve's imagination right this minute. Her smile turns sad as she waits for him to conclude his train of thought, all the while supporting him with a squeeze of the hand.
"God, I miss home…," is all Steve can say, still looking up. Suddenly, he looks at Catherine and asks, surprised, "… how about you? Miss home?"
"I've been working for the CIA for so long that I don't even know where home is, anymore," she replies with sincerity, immediately chastising herself for being so honest, especially with him – after all, this topic is a minefield between them. Catherine stomps her feet on the ground, waving her body, and rubs her hands together to ward off the cold, not saying any more.
Steve turns to her, loving expression on his face, another first in many years, and lingers there, as if committing her to memory, cold forgotten. Growing serious, he decides to say what's on his mind.
"No, I meant home, HOME," he says, and fixates his eyes on her, never wavering. It's as though he's talking of a place beyond time, always present in their memories, to which she will naturally one day return, because she belongs to it - or the other way round.
Catherine's heart starts beating faster in her chest, and she feels her face flush and warm. It's a good thing night has fallen and they are in a dimly lit area, otherwise this might be embarrassing. Her only option, at this point, is to try and deflect his stare and she laughs, looking up to the stars again.
"Sure, I miss my parents, my brothers, I miss the States, my family of friends… but I guess when you do what I do for a living, you numb the pain by not thinking about them so often, it's kind of a defense mechanism," she concludes, now looking back at him, with an open, honest smile she hopes is enough to satisfy him.
But Steve is feeling nostalgic, after the day's events, and emboldened by the brightly shining moon, presses her for the answer to his real question.
"I wasn't talking about Washington, Cath. In fact, I try not to think about it much, or wherever else in the world you may be. When I think about you, all I do is worry about your safety and, since there's nothing I can do to check up on you or help you, it's pointless. So I don't do it often, only when I can't help my wandering mind."
If Catherine had thought that her previous answer would placate Steve, she was dead wrong. All it did was make him want to be clearer, and therefore more difficult to innocently dismiss. In the middle of a military airbase in Afghanistan, mid-op. Suddenly, Lynn comes to her mind and it's like a bucket of cold water thrown at her head. She remembers the blonde woman's demeanour and kindness, and suddenly, everything feels wrong about this situation. Including his nonchalant attitude.
"Steve, it's late and I am very tired. I need to catch some sleep, if tomorrow is anything like we suspect. Can we go, please?" she finishes, releasing his hand and starting to walk towards the barracks, quickening her pace.
Steve sighs dejectedly, heart sinking in his chest. He runs the short distance that separates them and pulls on her arm, almost stopping her.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Please. I just… miss having you in my life, Catherine, you were my best friend and then you just left. Without so much as an explanation," he says, and as she stops and looks at him, he can see tears running down her face.
"Steve, don't make the mistake of thinking I don't get homesick – whatever home we're talking about," she says, serious, looking him in the eye. "I just think there's nothing to be gained from going back there. We both moved on," Catherine says, defeated, shoulders sagging, head down, not moving from where she's standing, in the middle of the dirt track. "There's an unspoken agreement between us that's served us well till now. Can we stick to it, please?"
Steve reaches a hand and strokes her cheek, ready to wipe away the tears that started to pour, his own heart breaking at hearing her acknowledge that she does indeed miss their former home together, and hopefully, their life. When she doesn't move to stop him, Steve comes closer and envelops her in a hug. They stay like that for a few seconds that feel, to her, like hours, both a warming caress and a dangerously slippery slope. As Steve loosens his embrace, he looks her in the eyes again and smiles, moving 180 degrees and holding her by the waist, as he propels them towards their sleeping quarters. Catherine is unable to say anything when Steve delivers her to her room door, kisses her on the cheek again and bids her goodnight. She just stands there like a statue, unable to process what just happened, overwhelmed by her emotions. She knows she can kiss any chance of sleep goodbye, tonight.