After they returned from London, Steve and Martha developed a ritual of staying in with takeout and a movie. The Princess Bride and curry were just the start. Over the course of the past few weeks they had watched all eight Harry Potter films and sampled a fair share of the cuisine that South and Southeast Asia had to offer. Tonight, however, they branched out with a dinner of chicken doro wat from the Ethiopian restaurant in Martha's neighborhood.

"So what did you think?" Martha asked when they reconvened in the front of the television after the remnants of their meal were cleared away.

"It was good. I liked it," Steve answered.

"Tough act to follow, eh?" Martha teased as she tossed him a blanket and moved over to the console to load the DVD they'd be watching. Over dinner, she pointed out that she had been the only one making suggestions on their food and film choices for dates and tasked him with orchestrating their next night in on his own.

"I just hope I live up to your expectations," he countered playfully.

Martha glanced over her shoulder with a bright smile. "You have so far," she assured him.

Steve met her smile with one of his own. "What did you decide on?" he asked as he made himself comfortable on the sofa.

"L'arnacœur," Martha answered while she cued up the DVD. "It's one of my favorite French films."

"Heartbreaker?" Steve replied with a quirked brow.

"Oui," Martha said when she joined him on the couch with the remote. "But don't let the title fool you. C'est très romantique."

Steve draped his arm around her shoulders. "C'est vraiment?"

Martha spread the blanket over their laps then snuggled in close to him. "Mais oui."

A few minutes into the film Steve looked at her with a frown. "This is supposed to be a romance, right?" he asked.

"Mmhmm." Martha leaned her head against his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arm tighter around her shoulders, drawing her closer.

"That guy is totally conning her."

"Like the song says, he's doing the wrong thing for all the right reasons."

Steve fell silent as the scene played out on screen. A short while later, he spoke again. "So people hire them to breakup people they think are in bad relationships?"

"Pretty much," Martha confirmed with a nod. "Too bad that isn't a real service though. My sister Tish could use it."

"Bad luck with relationships?"

"I'm not sure relationship is the best word to describe her usual entanglements," Martha said vaguely before they both returned their focus to the film.

"I can understand his problem with eating Roquefort first thing in the morning, but is liking George Michael and Dirty Dancing considered a flaw?" he asked after a long bout of silence while the movie played.

"To him apparently," Martha answer with a laugh. "A lot of my mates growing up were mad for George Michael. They had his posters all over their walls."

Steve glanced down at her with a smile. "And what about you? What did you have on your walls?"

Martha smirked. "I had meticulously labeled diagrams of the human body."

"You knew even back then that you wanted to be a doctor?"

Martha nodded. "When I was four years old, my younger brother Leo and I were playing on the swings. He was pushing me a bit too enthusiastically, but I didn't mind. I loved it. Then for one split second, I was completely airborne and I thought…this must be what astronauts feel like," she recalled with a wistful smile. "And then I hit the ground. Hard."

Steve winced. "Did you cry?"

"Surprisingly, no." Martha grinned. "The whole thing felt like an adventure, riding to the hospital and seeing the x-ray. My bones posted up on screen like that. I couldn't believe that there was this entire secret world hidden under my skin that I never knew about until that very moment," she explained. "And then when the doctor explained that he had to put my arm in a cast until the bones knit back together, you could have knocked me over with a feather!" she added with a grin that Steve matched. "I knew then and there that I wanted to be a doctor so I could explore all the things I couldn't see. That Christmas, I even got a toy stethoscope and books about the human body."

Steve gazed down at her with admiration. "So you've always known what you wanted?"

"Yep," Martha confirmed and stretched her neck to give him a quick kiss. "Still do." She settled back into his arms and focused on the screen. "You should add George Michael and Wham! to that list of yours."

"I do like this song," Steve commented about the one playing in the scene.

"Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go is a classic eighties pop song," she informed him with a grin. "It may not have been the best decade on all fronts, but the music was iconic. Of course, as an eighties baby, so I might be a tad bit biased."

"I'll add it to the list." Steve hugged her tighter. His chin rested on the top of her head and she slipped her arms around his midsection.

They had reached a level of intimacy where they were comfortable touching each other without much provocation. More than that, they relished in it. Steve still didn't make a habit of kissing her in public, but quick pecks when they met and parted were now standard. They usually held hands when they walked together. And, he was sure that she loved lying in his arms while they watched TV as much as he loved having her there.

"I love this part," Martha told him with a smile as the two characters in the film recreated the iconic dance from Dirty Dancing.

Steve watched her with quiet amusement. "We should go dancing again some time."

Martha glanced at him. "Why? Are you thinking of trying that move?"

"Maybe." Steve shrugged and resumed watching.

"We should watch Dirty Dancing first then," Martha suggested.

"Do you think I need the help?"

"No," Martha replied with a laugh. "From what I've seen so far, your moves are quite impressive."

By the time the movie was over, they had shifted their position on the sofa. They both lay with their legs stretched out the length of the couch. Steve's head was against the armrest with a throw pillow as cushion and Martha was tucked into the nook between him and the back of the couch. Her arm draped over him and her head was against his chest. Once the credits rolled, she reached over him for the remote on the table, allowing her leg to slip over his and her body to align fully with his in the process.

Steve instinctively put his hands on her hips to steady her so she didn't fall off. She met his eyes briefly with a smile and pressed a quick but tender kiss on his lips as a thank you before grabbing the remote. He exhaled slowly in attempt to settle the sudden flurry of thoughts racing through his head.

"Did you like it?" Martha asked.

It took Steve half a second to realize that she meant the movie. "Yea. It was good."

"I told you," she said with a satisfied smirk while wrapping her arms around his neck. "Très romantique." She leaned in for another kiss.

As they kissed, Steve moved his hands from her hips. One remained at the small of her back and the other slowly found its way to the nape of her neck. She trembled against him as he cradled her in his arms, just as she had in the elevator. Only this time, she didn't immediately pull away. Instead, she clung to him more fiercely and he looped his arm around her waist and slipped his fingers into her hair.

When they finally broke apart to catch their breaths, she searched his eyes for answers. Her expectations were clear. Expectations that Steve wasn't sure if he was ready to meet just yet. "It's getting late," he said softly.

Martha craned her neck to look at the clock. "Yea."

"I guess I should–"

"Spend the night?"

Steve released his hold on her. "You mean…"

"I mean the sofa folds out into a bed," Martha told him with a hint of a smile as she shifted off of him and sat up. "Unless you rather share my bed."

Steve exhaled slowly at the thought. "It's a tempting offer." He sat up straight, making a point to put a bit of space between them on the couch.

Martha watched him move away then met his eyes. "You are aware that I mean sleeping together in the literal sense, yea?"

"I wasn't implying anything," he said quickly.

"I know." Martha laughed softly. "We could though." She tilted her head to one side. "Not sleep."

"We could," Steve agreed. "But not tonight."

"Okay." Martha leaned over and kissed him again softly. "Bed or couch?"

Steve kissed her back. "Bed," he answered as he stood up. "My own."

Martha sighed, but nodded. "Alright." She stood up and walked him over to the door. "See you soon?" she asked just before they parted ways in the doorway.

"Of course." Steve snaked his hand around to the back of her head and kissed her once more. A deep and feverish kiss that he ended abruptly for his own good. "Soon," he said against her lips, hoping she could divine the hidden meaning behind the word.

Martha met his eyes and once more searched them for answers. "There's no rush," she told him. Her voice was gentle, authoritative yet kind at the same time, as was her way. "Take your time."

Steve traced her bottom lip with his thumb while fighting the urge to kiss her again. "Soon," he repeated. She nodded quickly in response and took the kiss that he was withholding. They broke apart and Martha closed the door between them.

Steve's features were the very portrait of longing and the slightest hint of regret lingered behind his eyes as he left. He blinked it away and resolved himself with his decision. It wasn't the right time for them to make that next step. Not yet.

"Soon," he whispered to himself with a heavy sigh.