Title: Gold Rush
Pairing: CaptainAmerica-WinterSoldier-FemaleOC (poly)
First language isn't English, so please point out spelling or grammer mistakes. Be specific when pointing them out so I can correct them.
Tomorrow is my one year wedding anniversary, so I probably won't upload untill Thuesday or Wednesday.
Reviews are always welcome.
Chapter 8 part 2
"Grenade!" someone yelled and a small ball got thrown against the bar. It took me a second to realize what had rolled at my feet. A red light flickering like a count down. Oh fuck!
I scampered to my feet, losing my red pumps in the process, trying to get as far away as possible of the device that was counting down. Everything became a blur to me, panic filling my body as I moved as fast as I could, but for some reason my body felt like it weighed a tone and I was moving in slow motion. Is this it? Death by grenade at a party I didn't belong at?
I felt a metal hand grab my wrist and yank me to the side, behind one of the structure pillars. It had detailed ornaments and they hurt my back as I was pushed against them. Another hand went around my head and pulled me away from the blast that followed. I closed my eyes and tried to cover my ears but the noise still hurt my ears. I felt the floor shake beneath me and I wondered if the floor would disappear beneath me and let me fall to my death. I started shaking as the noise settled down but the hand around my head laid itself around my shoulders to calm me down.
"It's okay. You're alright. It's over." I looked up and saw the arm around my shoulders was robotic and it belonged to the Sergeant. His blue eyes looked intensely at me, scanning me for possible injuries. His voice sounded surprisingly soft and calm though. He tightened his hold on me as I started shaking harder. My voice sounded just as shaky as my body felt: "Eum…okay…?"
"Deep breaths, it helps to calm down. We should get you a drink," he said and looked around. So did I, what didn't help with calming down. The room was in total disarray: the table and coffee tables were flipped over, the chairs were laying all over the room, some even in pieces, art pieces and mirrors were destroyed, the bar was broken down partly. I saw the Hulk sitting in the debris, shaking his head. The Black Widow was standing with him, talking to him, absolute no fear on her face as she talked to the green man. People had gotten hurt, but I didn't take in their wounds. I wasn't sure I could handle seeing anything to gruesome, let alone see someone had died.
"Your foot," the Sergeant said and I dropped my eyes to my foot. I had lost my pumps when I ran away from the grenade. My left foot was covered in blood. I started feeling the pain as it downed on me that glass was sticking threw my foot. It started to hurt a lot and my knees buckled from the sight or the pain or the fact I was going to be sick from seeing the glass sticking in my foot. The Sergeant caught me and lifted me up in his arms: "I got you."
"I think I'm going to be sick," I said and I felt his grip tightened on my body: "Stop looking at it and deep breaths. Hey, look at me." I shook my head and did as he said. It downed on me how close we were so it felt uncomfortable to look into his eyes, even though they looked nice. The Sergeant started walking and kept talking to me to distract me: "There you go, now tell me what you want to drink."
I felt his robotic arm tighten around my body as he used his other to wipe the bar clean. Is he seriously holding me up with just one arm? He sat me down gently on what was left of the bar, my back turned to the chaos behind me and away from the Hulk. I can't believe I'm sitting on a bar next to the Hulk, the actually Hulk. The Sergeant noticed my mind was starting to drift and he gently took my chin and made me look in his eyes: "Just focus on me. What can I get you to drink?"
"Alcohol," I said and was surprised how strong my voice sounded because I was feeling like I was going to burst apart with all the emotions and the pain and the shock that were running threw my body. He let go of my chin and placed his hands on either side of my legs and kept my eyes focused on his. He raised an eyebrow at my answer, so I made myself more clear: "Strong alcohol."
He nodded and quickly found a bottle of whisky that had survived the blast: "Let me just find you a glass…" He said while looking for a glass, but I grabbed the bottle from his hands, pulled the cork out and took multiple gulps to calm myself.
"Easy there lady or you will be sick," the Sergeant stopped me and took the bottle form me. I took a few deep breaths and the Sergeant leaned his forehead against mine and asked in a soft voice: "Are you alright?"
"I think you know the answer to that question Sergeant," I responded and took a couple of more deep breaths to calm myself. The drink did help me calm down. My body had stopped shaking and my nerves started feeling numb. Also my ears were ringing less and less.
"It's normal. It'll pass, just take it easy for now," he said and that's when I noticed he was bleeding on the right side of his head. I placed my hand on his chin and turned his head away from me to inspect the wound: "You're injured."
"It's nothing, just a scratch," he said and took my hand in his and turned his head back to me. It did appear to be a shallow wound, nothing life threatening. He must be used to it. How long did this…fight…attack…what am I supposed to call this, even last? It felt like fifteen minutes, but for some reason I think it's much shorter. There were some really powerful people in this room tonight.
"There is a doctors cabinet one floor down. I can take you there and take care of your injury or I can take you to the nearest hospital?" the Sergeant pulled me from my thoughts. He had to repeat himself. The nearest hospital was at least a fifteen minute drive and how fast I would be seen would depend on how busy the ER was. If people were there in life threating conditions I would have to wait and I could end up waiting for a long time.
"Are you sure you would know what you would be doing?" I asked suddenly sounding very tired. This whole situation was taking its toll on me. The Sergeant smiled slightly up at me and I noticed there was a little green in his eyes. Huh funny, not perfectly blue eyes I guess.
"Soldiers were taught first aid back in the day. If one of the men got hit someone could fix him up. The nearest doctors were usually too far away to wait for," the Sergeant explained and I felt the bar beneath me shake slightly as the Hulk started moving around. I wanted to look what was happening, but the Sergeant grabbed my chin again to stop me: "Keep looking at me for now."
"I'll take my chances with you Sergeant," I sighed as I thought about his offer. Going to a hospital would just take too long and I'm sure the Sergeant will do his best. Not to mention, I'll be slightly drunk to numb the pain. The Sergeant lowered his hands again and smirked at me: "You don't sound very sure."
"I'll be taking this with me for courage," I joked and grabbed the whisky bottle next to me and took another swing from it. As the liquid went down my throat I made a face because I don't like whiskey, that made the Sergeant chuckle. I closed the bottle and held it against my chest. A warm feeling started spreading threw my chest and I knew it would be better to get my foot looked after quickly, now that I wasn't completely sober. I wanted to get of the bar, but he stopped me: "You shouldn't walk around here without your shoes and you can't put any pressure on it and it would be best to keep your foot upwards."
"And how do you suggest we make it downstairs then?" I asked and his smile turned into a smirk. It made me smile a little as I let my head hang low. This whole situation still felt unreal, like I was in a dream but the pain shooting up my leg kept telling that I wasn't dreaming. I felt the Sergeant lean his head against mine and he whispered: "Are you coming ma'am?"
"Don't be so smug, it makes you look like a dirty old man," I whispered back and he pushed his head gently against mine and laughed softly. He was so close I could smell him and I recognized the cologne scent he also wore at Yankee stadium. I looked in his eyes and I could feel his breath touch my face. My foggy brain wondered if he would kiss me. My racing heartbeat wanted him to kiss me. He looked conflicted and I bite my lip to try and stop me from blushing, but it didn't work this time. He noticed and sent me a slight small: "You won't blush when I give you my best words, but a bomb goes off and you blush at the blush at my weakest pickup lines?"
He smiled so handsomely at me, I should have just leaned in and kissed him. It would make him shut up and wipe that smug smile of his face. But I just chuckled and pushed him back weakly: "You're such a jerk."
"So I have been told ma'am."
"Well I guess I was wrong about the party. It was a blast," I joked and he pulled back and smiled at me: "Good to hear that your attitude didn't get blown away."
"Please I'm tougher than that," I said and my eyes landed on the glass shard sticking out my foot and felt my stomach turn. The Sergeant noticed and laughed at me. He made me look back up and asked if I was sure about that. We were interrupted by the Captain, who looked disheveled. He had been in a fight. His fists were bloody and bruised, his shirt was hanging out of his pants and his pants were dirty. He looked at both of us with concern. He grabbed the Sergeant's shoulder and checked him over before looking at me. The Sergeant did the same, but kept his face ride of any emotions. The smile from a second earlier was gone. I wonder why he hid it from the Captain.
"You got hurt miss," he said when he noticed my injured foot. He looked alarmed at my injury, but I waved it off to put him at ease: "It's alright. I barely feel any of it thanks to the whisky. The Sergeant offered to help me with it."
"I'm afraid he's needed at the moment," the Captain said and he looked conflicted at the Sergeant, who I saw tensed up significantly. I knew I wasn't going to get much of an explanation, but I did wonder what was going on. Did the Sergeant know who attacked us? Or maybe it had something to do with why they left earlier this week? The Captain looked tense as well and before they could say anything I assured them I was alright and they could go take care of whatever needed to be taken care of. I waved the bottle at them as I joked: "I can wait, my friend here will keep my company."
Some secret communication between the two men was taking place and they didn't react to my little joke. I reached out and placed my hand on their shoulders to get their attention. It seemed to snap them out of whatever was going on: "Go, I'll be fine."
"I'll look after her," Wanda joined us and it seemed to assure the two men I would be alight. I wasn't happy that it was her helping me out, but I kept that to myself.
"We'll be back quickly," the Sergeant assured me and I pretended to believe him. He and the Captain left, the latter sending me an apologetic smile and he thanked Wanda for looking after me.
"Shouldn't you go with them, being a witch and all?" I asked and took another swing from the whiskey bottle. The woman surprised me by taking the bottle from me when I was done and drank from it as well. She made a face as she swallowed: "Urgh, I never liked whiskey."
"Me neither, but it's the best I've got at the moment. Sadly all the good alcohol didn't survive the fight," I joked and wondered why she didn't join the others. Isn't she like the strongest person on this room?
"Ah the good one's always die young," Wanda responded and jumped on the bar next to me and handed me back the bottle: "They can handle it, being the strongest in the room doesn't mean I can help with everything."
"What do you?" I ask and she looked at her shoes as she fidgeted with her hands: "People still tend to look at me as the monster who blew up that building in Lagos. It's better to let the heroes handle this and for me to stay in the dark."
I didn't know how to respond to that. Did people really look at her like that? She fought Thanos, single handedly and it was speculated she could have taken him if his ship didn't attack. How could they still hold what happened in Lagos against her? Even there she was trying to save those people from what mister Stark told me once, it just didn't end the way she had hoped.
"It's okay, forget about it. I'm sure Steve and Barnes will be back as soon as they can," Wanda tried to change the subject and I could see she felt very uncomfortable so I let her. She turned to me with an apologetic smile: "I want to apologize for earlier. I didn't mean any harm."
"Then don't but in," I said and she smiled weakly: "I won't. I just got excited that there could be another girl my age hanging around."
"Aren't there other people here your, well our age? Agents or…?" I asked but she interrupted me by laughing: "Yeah, who wants to hang out with the crazy witch? The only people I see regularly are Steve, Natasha and Peter. Nat's like a big sister and Peter like a younger brother, but they don't exactly share my life experiences."
"What do you exactly think that we have in common?" I asked with a raised eyebrow at her and she laughed again: "When we met on that dancefloor, within fifteen minutes you had already referenced Harry Potter, Once Upon a Time and Ugly Betty."
"You got the Ugly Betty one?" I asked surprised. I remember Hillary saying something stupid and I responded with 'have you been smoking one of your poncho's again'. Hillary and Tessa didn't get the reference and I was used to that, but apparently Wanda had: "Of course, I loved Amanda in that show. My favorite quote from her is 'friends don't let friends wear glitter before noon' and oh that scene where she sings to Gene Simmons."
"You mean the 'Gene Simmons is my daddy' song?" I asked and we both laughed remembering the scene. I almost toppled over, probably because of the alcohol, but Wanda was quick to stop me and helped me keep my balance: "Oh and that scene in the church, with the wedding where Marc tells her to sing?"
"And the Black and White ball scene where she stands naked on the red carpet?" I asked and she nodded. She took the whiskey bottle from my hands again and took another swing from it. She handed it back to me but I didn't drink this time. I've had enough for now.
"Anyway, I don't come across many girls my age who quote my favorite movies and TV shows so openly. I got a bit carried away," Wanda apologized and I accepted it. Maybe she's not too bad, just as clumsy around people as the Captain could be.
"And besides it's Steve. He's just a little nervous when it comes to women," Wanda said and I could tell she said it without trying to be noisy. I looked at my feet for a few seconds before responding: "Well he got me to come here, so I think he'll manage."
"What? He asked you to come?" Wanda asked very surprised and her voice was louder then I'd cared for. She noticed it and apologized for that and looked around to see if anyone heard her, but everyone was too busy with what had happened to pay attention to us. She turned back to me and spoke quitter: "You mean to tell me that he asked you to come? Not Pepper?"
I nodded and she looked baffled for some reason. I'm taking it the man didn't ask many women out.
"Wow, so he does have a pair then," Wanda muttered to herself and it made me chuckle. Is he really that…shy? Wanda noticed my curious look and explained that Natasha has apparently been trying to set the man up with women for years, but he never does: "And some of these women are really gorgeous and smart and kind of amazing. We started to think he was just too much of a prude or something."
"Well he's not. He manages just fine," I said and Wanda chuckled and admitted that she had a hard time believing that. I still didn't think she was being noisy right now so I threw her a bone: "He's actually asked me out three times."
"Seriously?"
"I turned him down twice though," I added before she could ask anything and her mouth fell wide open, judgement clear on her face: "How…? Why…? Okay, don't get me wrong here, but what the hell is wrong with you?"
"Oh shut up," I said and pushed her shoulder playfully. She wanted to ask more questions, but mister Stark appeared in front of us and then things happened to fast for me to follow. My boss was angry and very shaken up. He needed Wanda immediately, what seemed to surprise the woman herself. I noticed Miss Pots was injured, what might explain why mister Stark was so worked up. I somehow found myself being unceremoniously shoved into a taxi that would bring me to the nearest hospital. I could hear Wanda protest, but my boss was very insistent on needing her assistance. At first I was to baffled to feel much emotion about it. One minute I was laughing with Wanda, waiting for the Sergeant and Captain to return and I felt very comfortable, considering the mess we were in, and then the next I'm outside, on my own, tipsy and let's not forget injured. The car ride to the hospital really helped me get angry over the whole situation because frankly I didn't deserve this treatment by my boss. I have done so much for him and his family and he thinks he can just put me in a taxi and sent me of? What an asshole! And I even had to pay for the taxi myself for the asshole didn't give the man money when he pushed me in the vehicle!
I had to wait three hours before I was seen by a doctor. A car accident just happened so obviously I had to wait. I was so sending the bill to Mister Stark and I was calling in sick on Monday. After an hour I started sobering up and the pain became too much, so I started drinking from the bottle again. I didn't care for the disapproval looks I was getting and when a nurse asked me if it was smart for me to drink I told her I would stop when someone took care of my foot. My foot got stitched up and it was painful as hell. It would probably be a lot less painful if the Sergeant would have taken care of it. Not because I believed he would be gently but because I would have been numbed by alcohol. And the doctor was a total prick. He tried to ask me out, but I politely declines, stating I already had a boyfriend. He didn't seem to handle rejection well for I'm positive he could have stitched my foot up much gentler. Every time the needle pierced my skin it felt like he was calling me a bitch.
I called Brooklyn when the doctor was done and begged him to bring me a pair of shoes. Given the late hour I was hoping he was still out and wouldn't mind too much. Apparently he had some friends over at his place, but he didn't mind. He asked one of his female roommates to borrow a pair of her shoes and twenty minutes later he picked me up at the hospital. He was one of my only friends with a car and I was so happy he came with it. I was too tired to wait for a taxi or take the subway. When he asked me what had happened I told him I had gone to a work party, but I got drunk and stupid and that's how I injured my foot. He believed my lie and I was glad he didn't ask to many questions.
"Thank you for this by that way," I thanked him as he parked his car in my street. He told me he would walk me up to my place to make sure I reached it in one pace. I assured him I would be alright and after some more assuring on my account he accept it. He got out the car and handed me my crutches: "You know you can always call me at any hour, you know as long as it's something serious. Or a booty call, that's fine too."
"Well sorry to disappoint, but tonight is not one of those nights," I assured him and he pretended to be disappointed. He helped me up and helped me on the sidewalk: "Are you sure I don't need to walk you up?"
"Go home Brooklyn. I'm sure there's some unfortunate girl waiting for you to rock her world tonight," I joked and he roll his eye at me: "You are just jealous Alex."
"Night Brooklyn," I called over my shoulder and made my way to my building. He'd parked in the only available spot in the street, what was three buildings from mine. And this is a safe neighborhood, so I didn't feel ill at ease at all, but as my friend took of my anger for my boss came back. I can't believe that asshole just shoved me of like that. Oh man I really hope they fixed the elevator, because else getting up three flights of stairs is going to be hell! I was to lost in my own angry thoughts at Mister Starks treatment that I didn't notice the two men sitting on the steps in front of my brownstone. When they stood up, I nearly shit myself and lost my balance. Luckily they realized their mistake quickly and saved me from falling and hurting my foot more.
"We got you ma'am," I heard the Sergeant's voice as he and the Captain held me on my feet.
"What the hell is wrong with you two? I should be pulling my pepper spray on you too for sneaking up on me in the dark," I did my best to keep my voice down but their little stunt didn't make it easy. My heart was beating so hard in my chest it actually hurt. I really wanted to punch them for scaring me so much, but somehow managed to restrain myself. As I tried to calm down I noticed the Captain was wearing a different shirt and the bruise on his knuckles had been looked after.
"Sorry, we just wanted to make sure you were alright. Wanda told us what happened," the Captain explained and helped me up the stairs. I was in so much pain that it really was hard to keep my temper in check: "That's lovely, but I'm fine so goodnight."
"You don't look fine," the Captain stated the obvious and I bite my tongue from saying something very rude: "Yes, well three hours in an ER can do that to a person."
"Three hours?" the Sergeant asked, anger clearly in his voice. I saw him meet the Captain's eyes and then he shoved him roughly away from me and took his place instead. He was very gently but I wasn't interested in their help or chivalry at the moment. I know it wasn't their fault that my boss had so rudely made me leave, but that didn't mean I had to put up with their apologetic attitude.
"Buck…" the Captain said, anger also clear in his voice.
"Goodnight gentlemen," I said, to angry at the whole night to want to deal with this right now. I just wanted to get inside and of my feet. I searched for my keys in my purse as I reached my front door.
"I want to apologize for tonight…" the Captain said but I cut him off when I found my key and unlocked the front door: "Save it Captain, you have nothing to apologize for."
"Then let us just make sure you get home safely," the Sergeant said but I refused: "I'm home so that won't be necessary. Goodnight."
I walked in and let the door close behind me. After sitting the loud ER all night, I was glad for the silence of the hallway. The two men didn't stop the door from falling close and I heard the click signaling it was locked. I was a bit surprised that they didn't stop it, but I was glad I could just steam in my own anger for a bit, without having to apologize for it to someone. That was until I saw the 'out of order' sign hanging on the elevator.
"Oh son of a bitch!" I yelled at no one in particular and threw my purse at the elevator door. Is this punishment for something I did because this is ridiculous. How much bad luck can I have in one night? I wasn't sure if I was going to laugh, cry or scream but I didn't get much time to think about it because there was a knock on the door. The two men had heard my shout. Great, just great. I'm too tired for this shit.
"What is it?" the Sergeant yelled from outside and I sighed. I should start walking upstairs, but fuck that's going to be annoying. I walked back to the door and opened it: "The elevator is out of order."
"Where do you live?" the Captain asked and the two men walked in without asking me and I didn't stop them. The Captain saw my purse laying on the floor and he picked it up for me.
"Top floor," I sighed and was dreading the walk up all those stairs. I didn't have any time to protest because the Sergeant took my crutches from me and handed them to the Captain and he swooped me of my feet: "Lead the way ma'am."
"Do you always sweep the ladies of their feet so easily?" I asked and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly: "Only for the best dames."
"Hmm lucky me," I said and he walked me up the stairs like it was nothing. I realized this was the second time I was being carried by this man as I laid my arm around his shoulders. Even though I was still fuming over my boss, I did not mind this man's arms around my body at all.
"How is your foot?" the Captain asked and followed us, my purse still in his hand.
"Very painful, the doctor was an ass," I complained and shivered at remembering his face. The two men eyed me to explain and I sighed: "He was pushy and not happy when I turned him down. Pretty sure he was rougher when stitching my foot then was necessary."
The Sergeant carried me so casually, like I weighed nothing. I felt surprisingly comfortable in his arms. I wasn't bothered by his metal arm laying around my back or his eyes watching me with a fierce intent. I was beginning to like the smell of his cologne and noticed I was deliberately searching for it, but the scent was almost gone.
"Are you in any pain right now?" the Captain asked and I bite the inside of my cheek from saying something sarcastic. Of course I was in pain, but there wasn't anything we could do about that right now and no need to kick the Captain down more than already was. He can't really feel this guilty about me going to the ER and all. It's not his fault and he was even nice enough to make sure I actually got home safe: "It's alright."
"It's clearly not," he pointed out as we went up the last flight of stairs. I told him I would survive and the Sergeant's grip tightened on me: "You shouldn't have to."
"It's that apartment," I ignored the Sergeant's statement and pointed to the left door. It was a one bedroom apartment, just big enough for me. It was also rent controlled so I will probably never move out of it as long as I live in New York. My friends call is really small, I call it cousy.
"Do you live alone?" the Captain asked as the Sergeant put me down gently, his hands lingering at my side to make sure I wouldn't lose my balance or hurt myself as the Captain handed me back my crutches.
"Yes, living the Carrie Bradshaw dream," I said and the Captain handed me back my purse. I looked for my keys again. I felt the Sergeants hand softly touching my elbow. He was offering support in case I needed it and I was grateful for it. I wasn't minding his touchiness one bit.
"The what?" the Captain asked and I looked at him: "The independent female dream where she has the great carrier and the great love life. I would tell you to look it up, but maybe don't. I wouldn't want to bore Captain America with it."
"It's Steve," he said, a playful smile hanging on his lips and I just smirked at him. There was something sexy about calling him Captain. Oh who am I kidding, it was really sexy to call him that.
"So how's that great dream treating you?" the Sergeant asked as I unlocked my door and pushed it open. I noticed the two soldiers shared a look, but ignored it: "Awesome, I'm twenty-nine, work as a private assistant, live alone and barely have anytime to myself to do much living and partying in the big city."
"So no boyfriend then?" the Sergeant asked and I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He asked me if I had a boyfriend as well at Yankee stadium. I think it would be obvious by now, but he still wants to be sure. Or is it a way to be cheeky? I decided to play along: "That's an awfully intimate question Sergeant."
"It's Bucky," he responded and smiled a little. He leaned closer to me and I should have leaned back, but I didn't. I just tilted my head to him and waited for him to say something else, a teasing smirk hanging on my lips. The look he sent me made my heart flutter for some reason. Cheeky bastard.
"You know you didn't answer his question?" the Captain mentioned. He tried to sound casual, but he wasn't succeeding in pulling it off very well. I wonder why that was. I turned my head and noticed he was also standing closer to me then was necessary. In fact his chest was practically touching my arm. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, but I could see his arms were tense, like he was holding back.
"Why do you need to know Captain?" I asked and switched on the light in my hallway behind me. As grateful as I was for them showing up and somehow managing to change my foul mood to a calm and rather playful one, I wasn't going to let them in my home. Not even if I wouldn't mind their company. In fact I was beginning to like having them around. The Captain smiled sheepishly and looked at his feet, but he didn't respond to my question. So he does have a shy side? I overheard Mister Stark say something about it once but I didn't believe it. He always looks so confident when he crossed my path.
"He just wants to make sure you won't get into trouble for going out with two of New York finest," the Sergeant answered for the man and I pretended to be surprised: "Really? Who then?"
"You are a real piece of work lady," the Sergeant got back at me and I smiled sweetly at him: "It's part of my charm."
"Goodnight ma'am," the Sergeant leaned down and kissed my cheek slowly. I was surprised by this and he noticed. God, he's…smooth, cheeky… Damn, it's working. I was glad the hallway was badly lit so he couldn't see me blushing too much. When he pulled back, he grinned at me and I felt my legs wobble.
"Hurry up Stevie," he said as he started walking down the stairs. I could tell from his posture he was feeling mighty good about himself. I wanted to call after him, something to get back at him for kissing me and making me go practically weak in the knees, but I couldn't come up with anything good. So I turned to the Captain, whose shy demeanor was still there. I leaned closer to him and told him he shouldn't let the Sergeant take the lead to much. He knew what he was doing that night on my steps and at Yankee stadium, but now he seems to be at a loss for words. I chuckled as he looked down again. I leaned closer and kissed his cheek, just as slowly as the Sergeant had kissed my cheek. The man froze and before I pulled back: "You're the Captain, aren't you?"
I pulled back and whished the man goodnight, feeling very confident. Before I closed the door he sighed and looked at the floor as he asked: "I should have kissed you, shouldn't I?"
I chuckled and smiled at him as he looked at me with a sweet smile: "Shoulda woulda coulda, Captain."
As I closed the hear I heard him say 'It's Steve'.
