While the Captain was still away on his mission, Helen and Anna finalized their treatment plan, and started Tony on the regimen. Other than the minor discomforts associated with the medical procedures, things seemed be going quite well. We ran him through the full suite of monitoring scans that Steve had been through before he left, generating an unconsolidated load of raw data ready to be assessed, and extrapolated to attempt a prediction at how it would affect enhanced physiology. I had returned to the Avengers Facility to assist, and we all worked away at analysing the initial results, divvying up the workload. For the chemical and molecular interactions, I knocked out a few basic statistics, and set up a more thorough algorithm to run overnight, picking up any more complex anomalies.
Before I realized it, it was coming up to midnight. I checked my messages, and there was a note from Steve. They'd completed their mission, and were heading back to the Facility. Even on the QuinJet, it's a multiple hour flight. I could expect them back around 3am. I'd missed dinner, but snacked as I worked, so I just decided to pack it in for the night. I packed a few lab notes, and intended to head to the elevators. But, instead of one of the rooms set aside for visitors, Tony's Facility AI directed me to Rogers' suite. I was not planning on this. I wasn't ready to presume upon his space like that. But, when I stepped inside, I saw that my bag and other personal effects had been set in the bedroom. Was it the Facility staff, or Steve himself who made this decision? I decided to stop agonizing over it. I was afraid to make a fuss over the subject; that would only be counter-productive. As I accepted my current living arrangements, my thoughts moved to sharing that bed with Steve, and the idea of spending the night so close to him thrilled me. He'd be back soon. I decided to grab a few hours sleep first. I changed into my nightdress, a wrap number that was fairly modest in cut, crossing over and tying under my bust, in a touchable coral silk that I knew made my skin glow. I hoped that struck the right balance between enticing and avoiding presumption. Slipping under the neatly made covers, I tried not to muss them too much, in case I wanted to make a graceful exit. Drifting off, I dreamed of Steve.
A buzz from my phone woke me up. It was a message from him, letting me know that they were back. "In case you're still awake, I'll be up in a minute. We did the de-briefing on the jet, so I shouldn't be long".
I was relieved that he seemed to be expecting to find me in his room, but nervous butterflies danced in my stomach at the thought of spending time alone with him again. I climbed out of the bed and smoothed the covers over. I composed myself, wiping sleep from my face, and smoothing and then fluffing my hair. Tucking your legs under me, I leaned back on the pillows, waiting.
I heard him enter the ante-room. He sighed, and I could hear him kicking off his boots and the soft clink of his shield as he set it down. All the rest of his gear would be stored neatly downstairs, in the levels with the workroom. But, the shield that was an extension of his arm when he was in action, that, he liked to keep close. Suddenly, he was at the door of the bedroom, his broad shoulders filling the frame.
"I missed you," he said simply, with longing and eagerness in his look. All my apprehensions about how my presence here would be received flew away, as I took in his face. I felt wanted, and I want in return. I rose up on my knees, loosening the fastening of my nightdress as I did, so the front fell open, revealing my naked body. His eyes drifted downward, taking in the sight. I stretched out my arms, reaching for him.
"Come here," I beckoned. In two swift strides he swept me up, our foreheads touching, our breath intertwining. He must have showered on the jet after the mission, but his exertions since then had left a pleasing musk on his skin. I breathed it in deeply. I slid my hands down his body, exploring the muscles of his back, his sides, as I did. Following his shirt down, I dipped my fingers past his belt, inside his pants, gripping the hard muscle of his ass, thrilled at my own boldness. Finding the bottom hem of his shirt, you pulled it upward, bringing it up past his broad shoulders, and over his head. I stretched to lift it past his arms, but I wasn't tall enough. My efforts pushed my soft and yielding breasts against his firm chest, and he took control again and flung the shirt to the corner of the room, then reached down and pulled me close. We kissed. My lips parted, to take more of him in. We found a frantic rhythm of sucking, lingering kisses. I forgot that there was anything else, there was just Steve and me, our lips entwined, our tongues caressing. But he had other things on his mind. His lips left mine, and travelled down the edge of my jawline, my neck. He lingered on my pulse point, and I threw my head back, wanting to expose all of myself to him, to be consumed by him. He continued little, travelling kisses trailing down my collar bone, my clavicle. Scooping me up in his arms, he carried me to the bed.
In the soft afterglow of lovemaking, we lay on our sides, relaxed. We gazed at each other, neither of us with any desire to move whatsoever. As I watched his face, he wore a somewhat dazed, but happy expression. I couldn't help myself reaching over to caress his face with the back of my fingers, tracing the lines of his jaw, feeling the faint scratch of stubble forming. His own hand reached to trail lazily down my side, following the curve of my waist and the swell of my hips. We rested comfortably in each other's silence for a while.
"So, this is real" I said, reverently. I realized as I did, that while I'd been broadcasting my feelings with my words and my actions, I hadn't left much room for Steve to reciprocate. Fear tightened around my heart at the thought that I may have been misinterpreting his perspective, and imagining a romance that had been mostly one-sided. I frantically tried to recall what we'd said on the topic, and if there was anything that couldn't have just been said for politeness, or had been purely lust.
Steve must have seen the panic in my face, because he settled his arm possessively around my waist, and shifted closer to me, looking deeply into my eyes.
"You're a very special person. And, I find, very special to me."
"But where is this going?" I gushed. Now that my anxiety was piqued, I wanted to get everything out in the open, settled; so we were on the same page. "If there's an 'us' what does that look like?"
His eyes turned introspective for a moment, and I could tell by the set of his jaw, and the pursing of his lips that he was taking my question very seriously.
"I thought I knew, once, what my life would look like. I'd serve my country, and when the war ended, we'd all go home, and start to rebuild some stability. I pictured a little household, with a wife and kids waiting for me at the end of every workday. That all seems like something from a dream now: hazy and detached. Everything seems different now. I'm different now."
"Do you still want children?"
"I don't know... I don't know." He focused his eyes on my face again. "Do you?"
"I don't know either; it would depend on so many other things. Do... do you still want a wife?"
"I'd like you," he replied, snuggling me closer for emphasis. I let out a small breath of relief I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "The domestic housewife I pictured in my youth seems naive now. It would be so impractical nowadays. Heck, it probably would have gone all wrong back then, too. I would like a partner; someone to share my life with. It's been lonely since I came out of the ice. And the team's great, and in some ways I have Bucky back, but it's not the same as having someone really special."
"So, do you think we could have a future together?"
"I gave you my word, didn't I?"
"Yes, but I won't hold you to that. I believe that you're a man of honour, but I won't tie you down with duty. I want you, but I don't want a man who's with me out of obligation."
"Maybe it started that way, but not anymore. As I've gotten to know you, I find myself admiring you more and more. I can see us growing old together. None of us know how many days we have left on this earth, but I want to spend those days with you."
After such a declaration, I couldn't help myself. I pulled myself in for a kiss, slow and unhurried, and for a moment, all my other cares seemed to fade away.
"I love you." It just spills out of my mouth. I'm a little surprised, but I mean it. Deeply.
Steve looks introspective, and fear grips my heart, as I worry he's searching for a tactful thing to say to let me down gently, but he must have been searching his feelings, because he turns his eyes back to mine with a "Yes. I definitely love you, too."
He caught my hand in his, and gave it a tight squeeze. "So let's get married. Soon," and after a pause "Will you marry me?" he asked.
"Yes, of course," I laughed delighted, and was rewarded with a boyish grin beaming in my direction.
"I don't have a ring."
"That's fine. I don't need one. It'll be a short engagement anyway. Just a wedding band will make me very happy."
"So then it's just the wedding to arrange, and we'll be husband and wife. Tony will help out, he loves to throw parties."
"Don't I know it. Any chance to show off. I suppose all the Avengers will be there."
"Yes, they're a great team, and my dear friends, all of them. I'd like to invite the Howling Commando's descendants, too. And T'Challa as well."
It took me a beat to realise he meant King T'Challa, ruler of the nation of Wakanda, who Steve was apparently on a first name basis with.
"And if he's able to come, I suppose we'd have to invite the rest of the diplomatic core; Senator Brant and the rest of the SHIELD higher ups. And probably a few carefully chosen press."
I was a little shocked at how quickly the list was accumulating, and got bashful at the prospect of having to carry the attention of all those people on my wedding day. "Wow, so many people. I don't know how I feel about such a huge wedding."
"I'm sorry. I am a public figure. I'm afraid you're going to be under a bit more scrutiny than you have been in the past."
"It's not that so much that I mind, but it's just not how I pictured my wedding day. I wouldn't be able to relax at all. Couldn't we just elope?"
"I don't want to do this in secret. I want everyone to know that I'm claiming you as my wife. How we met is no-one's concern but our own, but I want to show you off. I want everyone to know that I love you."
I melted a little at that declaration, but stuck to my guns. "What about if we went to Wakanda? It would be a valid reason not to invite everyone and their dog, and it would mean that you could have Bucky for your best man. We can have a big reception when we get back, and you can tell anyone you want then, but we'd have the ceremony just for us."
He made a show of deliberating, but I could tell that I had him convinced the moment I mentioned Bucky.
"All right," he said, "Just as soon as I get this damned poison out of my system, we'll make it happen. And not a moment later, you hear."
I laughed, and peppered the mock-seriousness on his face with giggling little kisses, until he broke and started laughing with me.
"You know, with things having gone so well with Tony's treatment, yours is just about ready to start. In order to gauge its effectiveness, we're going to have to separate again, but I've managed to convince everyone that we won't need strict quarantine between us. I'll have to give you up for a while, until we're sure the cure has taken hold, and I don't want to. We can still be in each others presence, but we're forbidden from touching."
"Nooo, but I love the touching," Steve whined while nuzzling in to the crook of my neck, and I couldn't help but giggle at the ridiculous incongruity of such a specimen of masculinity fussing like a thwarted schoolboy.
I took the moment to roll into him, lifting his arm around me, snuggling in with my back to his chest. I raised one of his hands to mine for a soft kiss, then tucked it under my face and let sleep overtake us.