Time slipped by slowly for Steve as he sat alone. The idea of spending the foreseeable future having crippling war flashbacks and fighting with Brooklyn upset Steve. She'd been so kind and patient and Steve just couldn't get his emotions in check.

He had to make it up to her.

Steve stood easily, realizing he was feeling less and less stiff as the hours ticked by. He looked at the clock on the bed stand and saw it was past ten o'clock. He'd been wallowing in self pity for almost four hours. Brooklyn had most likely eaten without him, which Steve couldn't blame her for.

If Steve were her, he'd leave his sorry ass in the woods to deal with his issues alone. But when Steve opened the door as quietly as possible and crept out into the living room, he saw Brooklyn curled up in a blanket on the sofa reading a book in the firelight.

The flames were crackling weakly, telling Steve it had been going for a while and was dying out. The golden light illuminated the woman's tan face and caused her mahogany hair to practically glisten. Her eyes reflected the flames as they scanned the pages of her book, but when she caught sight of Steve, she stiffened.

"Steve! Hey… can I-uh, get you something?"

"I wanted to apologize." He stated bluntly and she closed her book and held it under her wrists so he couldn't see what she was reading. Steve shifted as he grabbed his forearm with his opposite hand, feeling small and awkward again as she waited for him to elaborate on his apology. "You've been very patient and kind, and I keep having… a hard time." Steve finally decided as he kicked his boot against the edge of the rug. "I feel bad that I'm not handling this all well."

"Don't feel bad. You haven't dished out anything I can't handle."

Steve took a step closer and Brooklyn sat up straighter and swung her legs onto the ground. He noticed she was still in her SHIELD uniform, and assumed she intended to sleep in it, "May I sit with you for a while?"

"Of course." She patted the couch beside her, but Steve fidgeted for a few moments before gesturing to the floor in front of the couch. Brooklyn smiled softly and nodded, motioning for him to sit in front of her as she swung her legs back up onto the couch. Steve sat by her feet and leaned his elbow against the cushions, watching Brooklyn as she fiddled with her book.

"What are you reading?"

He noticed the way she tried to hide the book, but he caught a glimpse of the cover and saw himself. "Ahh."

"Sorry. It's probably easier to just talk to you, but, I want to be well versed in whatever I can get my hands on." Brooklyn sat the book on her lap and sighed, "How much of this is true?"

Steve shrugged and stared at the fire, "It isn't wrong. It's just… not my story."

Brooklyn looked down at the book, then to the fire, "Are you tired?"

Surprised by her question, Steve tilted his head and paused for a moment, "Not really, no."

"The fires dying." She gestured to the flames, then opened her book and ripped out the first several pages. Steve smirked as she handed him the book, "If we're gonna stay up, might as well keep it going, right?"

Steve pulled out several pages at a time, then tossed them into the fire, "Guess now you can't study."

"Jokes on you. Now you have to talk to me. It was part of my evil plan the whole time." Brooklyn teased as she handed him the pages she'd ripped to set aside. "The real question is, are you hungry?"

"I made the decision to miss dinner. I'll be fine." Steve watched as the flames licked the edges of the fireplace as he smirked, "You did say something about dessert, though."

"I did, and I didn't even have any s'mores without you."

"Oh?" Steve questioned, "Why not?"

"Because I didn't want dessert alone." She admitted and Steve felt guilty for ruining her evening. She slowly pulled back her legs, careful not to bump into Steve as she climbed to her feet. "I thought maybe you'd come back out when you were ready. I'd feel bad if you did and I'd already eaten all the snacks." She laughed as she walked to the kitchen.

Steve watched her go with a smile, scanning her figure in the darkness as she looked through the cabinet to find the supplies. Steve felt his cheeks heat up as the thought of seeing her in something a little more revealing slipped into his mind. He chastised himself for wanting to see more of her, but, unlike what most people thought, Steve was only human.

Agent Hayes had been nothing but professional, but Steve just wanted a friend. That skintight suit she wore was a reminder that he was a mission, not a person, despite how sweet and caring Brooklyn was treating him, "What do you want to know?"

Brooklyn returned with graham crackers, Hershey's chocolate bars, and marshmallows. She sat next to the fire and slid two marshmallows up a long stick and shoved them into the fireplace. Steve waited for her answer, but he wasn't impatient. He was happy to watch the fire in silence.

Finally, Brooklyn pulled the stick from the flames and handed it to Steve to hold while she prepared the crackers and chocolate, "I saw footage of some of your USO shows."

Steve's stomach clenched and Brooklyn laughed at his pained expression, "Great."

"I was going to ask if you knew how to sing and dance." She giggled and Steve rolled his eyes as he thrust the stick of marshmallows back to the woman to put the s'mores together.

"God, no." Steve bit back, but Brooklyn's laughter caused his smile to grow until it overtook his face, "If you saw the footage, you saw that I had no talent."

"You weren't terrible! A little awkward maybe, but… impressive." Brooklyn handed him the s'more and took a bite of her own as she shimmied her way back to sit against the couch with Steve. "So not a song and dance man. Sports?"

"Are you asking if I played? I know there were photos of me in that book we burned." Steve finished his s'more in two bites with a grin. "We'd go watch the Dodgers play."

"The Dodgers? That's my home team. My dad always liked to watch them play." Brooklyn said softly as she licked a smudge of chocolate off her finger. Steve furrowed his brows and she asked, "What?"

"The Dodgers are your home team? I thought you said you were from Los Angeles?"

"The suburbs, yes."

"Okay." Steve said, putting his palms to his legs as he inhaled slowly, "First off, I don't know what suburbs are. Second, I meant the Brooklyn Dodgers."

"Yeah, about that…" She trailed off, biting her bottom lips as Steve gasped quietly.

"They moved to… California?"

"Yeah. In the fifties, I think."

Steve huffed as he pouted, squaring his jaw, and turning away bitterly, "I even lost the Dodgers."

"They aren't lost. They're just a little farther away."

"It's just another thing that's changed." Steve mumbled, rubbing his thumb against the lining of his leather jacket. "I just want something familiar. Anything."

Brooklyn pursed her lips and climbed up onto the couch, stretching her legs across the length of it as she looked at the wall beyond Steve. He watched her chew on her lip thoughtfully, and he imagined she was trying to figure out something she could offer up to Steve. She didn't come up with anything.

"I'm sorry," she finally answered, "There's a lot of places in New York that have been there forever, I'm sure we can find something you enjoyed or at least remember. I don't have much to offer here, though."

"Tomorrow, will you start working to catch me up?"

"Only if that's what you want."

Steve twisted his mouth as he looked at the fire, then finally turned to Brooklyn, "Yeah. It'll keep my mind off things."

"Okay." She answered softly, shifting farther down the couch so her head rested against the pillows. "Please stay out here as long as you want. I'll try to stay awake, but if I fall asleep, just know you don't have to leave."

Steve nodded to himself as her eyelids began to droop, "Don't you want to change?"

"I'm okay." She yawned, shifting onto her side and sliding her arm under the decorative pillows to hug them against her cheek, "It's comfier than it looks."

"Just know you don't have to wear it on my account. Remember what you wore when we met?" Steve teased as he leaned forward, and Brooklyn huffed in response.

"I wanted you to like me and want to keep me around. I didn't realize you were such a good person." She mumbled and Steve's gaze narrowed, but her eyes were already closed.

Brooklyn had insinuated that she needed to seduce men to get them to like her, and Steve wanted to talk more about that. He wanted to understand why she thought dressing in a skimpy dress would win him over and what about him made her change her tactic completely.

Steve sighed as he rubbed his brows with his fingers, but the low sound of Brooklyn's voice caught his attention as she mumbled, "I'm really glad you are."

"I'm what?"

"A good person." She sighed back, trying to fight off sleep, but Steve could tell she wasn't going to win.

He reached his hand up to touch her, but Steve hesitated for a moment, then decided to pat her leg twice before pulling his arm away. He grabbed the long stick and put two marshmallows on it, shoving them into the fire to make a few more s'mores to make up for missing dinner.

"Steve?"

Steve's eyes shot open and he sat up quickly, realizing he'd fallen asleep on the floor between Brooklyn and the fireplace, "Yeah?" He croaked as he looked out the window and realized the sun was shining brightly, "How long have I been asleep?"

"I don't know. I just woke up." Brooklyn slurred as she rubbed her eyes. She squished her face and stretched as Steve turned his attention to the embers of the dying fire. "You fell asleep on the floor."

"I used to sleep on the ground." Steve answered as he rubbed the back of his neck and arched his back before rolling his shoulders forward, "I'm okay. I'm sorry I slept in your space."

Brooklyn snorted as she scratched at her scalp, "It's not like you were bothering me any. I just feel bad you didn't make it back to bed."

"I don't." Steve answered quickly and the corners of Brooklyn's lips turned up slightly at his confession. He sucked in his breath and decided to speak his feelings, and he'd deal with the fallout afterwards, "To be honest, I slept better knowing I wasn't alone."

Steve worried the woman would get the wrong impression from his words, but she just rocked back and forth a little to nod. He didn't want a plaything to hold and make love to until he didn't feel so alone anymore. Steve just wanted a companion and a friend. As broken and alone as he felt, Steve didn't trust himself to be alone.

Had Nick Fury sent him to the Retreat alone, Steve wasn't so sure SHIELD wouldn't have found a corpse when they came to collect him. Having Brooklyn around forced Steve to face his new reality. He didn't think it was an accident that Director Fury had allowed the beautiful Agent Hayes to take the place of another beautiful woman as his handler. They could have sent him with a man, someone emotionless and blunt, but instead SHIELD had chosen a handler soft and gentle, someone Steve could sort out his emotions with.

Brooklyn's confession from the night before slid back into Steve's mind, and he was angry all over again that she thought she had to pique his fancy to get him to like her. Perhaps it was never her choice to begin with. Perhaps it was all part of a bigger plan to get Steve to trust SHIELD.

"You want me to make breakfast while you daydream?" Brooklyn's question broke Steve from his reverie. He saw her staring back at him with a slight smile as she raked her fingers through her long, wild hair.

"Yeah, sure." Steve answered, distracted by the purplish color of her locks as she flipped her head forward and fluffed it out before piling it all on top of her head in a heap. While the hairstyle had alarmed Steve two days prior, now it felt like a sign of trust between them, a way to tell Steve she was comfortable around him to be a little undone.

"While I'm doing that," Brooklyn handed Steve a black device, "you can play with this."

"What is it?"

"It's a cell phone." Brooklyn answered as she placed her hands on her waist, rolling her neck around to loosen it while Steve studied the phone. "Landlines still exist, but they aren't as common. Almost everyone has one of these. It's a mobile phone that goes with them everywhere."

"Like a radio?"

"Exactly, but it works like a phone. And it has the internet on it, so you can look up anything you need the answer to. That one's yours. You can set it up any way you like. A blank slate."

Steve nodded as he ran his thumb across the screen, "What should I do first?"

"Whatever you want. There's a few apps- applications. It can play music and movies. It has a calendar and a calculator. You can change the background and the sound it makes when it rings. It sounds overwhelming but think of it as a blank page for you to draw on." Brooklyn explained, but Steve began to feel more flustered as he handled the device carefully. Brooklyn squatted beside Steve and clicked the little button on the bottom, bringing the phone to life. Steve could now see all the little icons on the black screen with titles beneath them. "Just play with it. There's no right or wrong. Click on everything, and after we eat I'll explain everything to you, okay?"

"Okay." Steve mumbled, but he did as he was told, clicking a button showing a camera and suddenly the phone screen showed the fireplace in front of him, "It's a camera too?"

"Yeah. It's a lot of things!" Brooklyn called as she turned on the stove. Steve looked up at her, wishing she'd teach him how to cook instead, but she'd only asked him to do one thing, he needed to do it.

Steve inhaled deeply as he clicked the little button at the bottom Brooklyn had shown him, bringing him back to the main screen. He clicked away through all the icons, seeing what they brought to life before him. "This is a lot."

"You're overthinking it. At its core, it's just a telephone. If that's all you want to use it as, you can. I don't think anyone will care if you don't use the weather app."

He smiled at that, clicking the little sunshine with clouds behind it and seeing that it was only forty degrees outside, "Will it snow here?"

"Yeah, probably within the next few weeks. I've never been up here during the winter." Brooklyn admitted as she opened the kitchen window, "It's nice now though. We should enjoy it."

"I'm not looking forward to the cold." Steve chuckled as he stood to go sit at the table.

Brooklyn looked over her shoulder at him as she mixed batter at the counter, "I'm sure you aren't. I think we'll be getting a lot of use of that fireplace if we're still here."

"Should we leave the moment it starts snowing?"

"Only if you are ready to go back to the real world." Brooklyn answered and Steve's stomach plummeted before his brain could register why he was upset. His face must have shown his panic because Brooklyn turned to face him fully, "It's only been a day. I'm expecting us to stay at least a couple of weeks. Maybe we'll head back the beginning of November. By Thanksgiving for sure."

Steve nodded as he set down his phone, choosing to look at Brooklyn instead as she turned back to making breakfast, "How long until breakfast is ready?"

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Why? You got somewhere to be?"

"I was going to take a shower if I had time."

"No," Brooklyn scolded, turning to point at the phone, "you're going to keep doing your homework. By the time pancakes are done, I expect you to be able to send a text message, take a photo, and find yourself on the internet."

"I don't know how."

"Well, you better keep looking then." Brooklyn answered sharply, and Steve thought she might upset until he saw the coy smile on her lips. "You're Captain America. I have the utmost faith in your ability to figure out how to google yourself. Go to the internet. Type Google into the search bar and then google your name. You got this. If you can master the cell phone and the internet within the next few days, we'll do whatever you want on Sunday."

"Anything?"

"I mean, within reason." Brooklyn answered as she began to pour the batter into the skillet, occasionally peeking at Steve to make sure he was still doing what she'd asked of him. "I'm up for pretty much anything. Just remember, whatever we do, you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future."

"Okay?" Steve didn't understand what her point was. He was aware that she would be sticking around, why would she need to warn him about it- Steve snapped his head up to look at Brooklyn, realizing that she wasn't taking intimacy off the table. It was odd to Steve, but there was a strange domesticity about their arrangement. She cooked for him and made sure he was taken care of, like a wife he didn't ask for or even knew. Brooklyn was beautiful, even if a little plain. She wasn't a bombshell like Peggy, or even the dancing girls Steve remembered from his shows.

Despite this, Steve considered what she'd look like beneath the SHIELD uniform. Her visible skin looked soft, but the way her muscles pulled against the thick fabric warned Steve that she was built like a fighter. He'd seen her thick backside in the dress, but if she had cleavage, he wouldn't know from the restricting uniform. The idea of holding her was nice, if only because she was the only person who currently cared about him that knew he was alive. He wanted to get to know her, become close to her, but Steve didn't dare get to know her too well.

He kept coming back to her personality switch between the day he met her and the day she brought him to the retreat. Steve had to remind himself that Brooklyn was an agent, not a soldier, and her mission was to do what Director Fury asked of her, by any means necessary.

Steve found the icon labeled Google and clicked on it, seeing the search bar Brooklyn had told him about. He typed in Captain America and several black and white photos of him appeared, along with what looked like costumes. Below the photos were a bunch of headlines, and he clicked on the first one, taking himself to a page all about his life, "Steven Grant Rogers was born to Joseph and Sarah Rogers on July 4th, 1918."

Brooklyn lifted her head to Steve, looking somewhat impressed, "You have five more minutes."

He looked back to the phone with a grin as she tossed several pieces of bacon and sausage onto a clean skillet. Steve hit the back button and clicked on the next headline down, reading aloud, "Was Captain America nothing but war propaganda? Why was there only one American super soldier?"

Steve looked to Brooklyn expectantly, but she just shrugged, "Imagine someone told you that they pumped a skinny guy full of drugs and turned him into a Nazi-tossing American hero. Sounds a bit far fetched after conveniently disappearing months before the war ended."

Steve lowered his gaze and sighed, "Yeah, convenient."

"People don't believe anything unless they see it with their own eyes. Don't take it personally. Don't forget the other two things I told you to figure out."

Steve snapped a photo of Brooklyn when she wasn't looking, causing the phone to make a loud click and alert Brooklyn to his success. When she turned and realized she was the subject of his photograph, she scowled, but Steve smiled proudly, "I like it."

She reached over and snatched his phone, typing away something before lifting the camera and taking a photo of Steve before handing him the phone back, "Alright, Smarty Pants, text me the photo I took of you to my phone."

"How do I do that?"

Brooklyn just shrugged and flipped the bacon in the skillet, "I put my number in your phone. Figure it out." She looked up to Steve as he leaned back in the chair, grinning smugly as she pulled her buzzing phone out of her pocket. "How did you-"

"I googled it."

Steve rested his elbows on the table and tapped his fingers against the wood, proud of himself for impressing his handler. She stacked a pile of pancakes onto a plate with bacon and sausage and set it in front of him. "Alright, eat up. We have a lot of work to do."