Chapter Four

By the time Sharon got back to her apartment, she was back on schedule with only good thoughts about the evening she'd planned back in her head.

After putting her groceries away, she lit a few scented candles and turned the radio on low as she cubed and sliced vegetables for the salad and sides she'd planned.

Perhaps the best part about the turn her life had taken was that she finally had the opportunity to cook, something she'd always enjoyed but never had the time to do when leading the double life of a SHIELD agent. Now, with two bottomless super soldier appetites - and Sam - she not only had the opportunity to cook but gluttons willing to eat the new recipes she found online or saw on one of the cooking shows Steve still enjoyed watching.

By the time Steve knocked on the door at six, Sharon had changed her clothes and applied makeup, switched the music to light jazz, set the table with two bowls of salad, had the vegetable medley warming in the oven and two fat tuna steaks simmering on the stovetop.

As Steve stepped into the kitchen, setting the bakery box he'd precariously carried on his bike onto the counter and giving Sharon a soft kiss on the cheek, he couldn't help the warm feeling the moment gave him. He knew better than to admit how much the sight of his girl in the kitchen, with the smell of the home-cooked meal in the air after a long day's work, felt like "home" to him. From everything he'd read since waking up in the twenty-first century, those thoughts were outdated, chauvinistic and unappreciated by today's woman.

But that didn't stop the nostalgia that spread through him as he lived the image he'd always envisioned for his future.

"Smells good," he said, swiping a loose cucumber slice off the cutting board and popping it into his mouth.

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells," she admitted. "I figure with your iron stomach I can get away with untried recipes."

"It's not the first time I've been someone's guinea pig." He grabbed another cucumber slice and leaned back against the counter, watching her work. "Anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head. "Everything's taken care of and on schedule. You just have to stand there and look handsome."

"I'll do my best." He smiled, looking around the apartment. The cozy atmosphere she'd created wasn't lost on him and he admired the subdued lighting, music and flickering candles.

"Why do I feel like dinner tonight's not just about dinner?" he asked, gesturing out toward the rest of her apartment.

"Oh?" she asked.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with our first date being six months ago, would it?"

"It might be..." Sharon said, pointing at him with the spatula she'd had in hand to turn the steaks. "I didn't think you remembered."

"I remember the important things," he said, stepping forward and avoiding the spatula as he put his arms around her waist. "Like pie and coffee in a practically empty diner with a beautiful woman."

He lowered his lips to hers and she turned into the embrace and returned the kiss.

"You're going to make me burn dinner," she said against his lips.

"If I wasn't starving, I'd say let it burn," he said, kissing her a once more before letting go of her.

She pointed the spatula at him again. "Save it for dessert, pal."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "One appetite at a time."

Steve helped her carry the tuna steaks and vegetables to the table and they enjoyed the casual conversation about their respective days as they ate.

As they finished dinner, Sharon asked, "Do you want dessert now...or your gift?"

"I get a gift?"

"Of course you do," she said, walking into her bedroom and returning with the a brightly wrapped box. She set it on the table in front of him. "Go ahead. Open it."

Rather than tear into the gift, Steve carefully slid his fingers along the seems and pulled the tape away neatly to preserve the paper. She waited patiently, knowing from his birthday party a few months back that he only went slower if you tried to rush him.

Finally, he pulled the lid of the box up and revealed the collection of goodies inside. When he just stared, Sharon's heart sank a little as she worried that he didn't like it.

"They're art supplies," she explained. "Aunt Peggy mentioned that you used to draw in your downtime during the war. The woman at the shop picked out most of it for me. There are colored pencils and charcoal sticks to go with the sketch pads and paper. And I thought you might like to branch out so there's an acrylic starter set and brushes and a few canvases if you want to paint..."

She trailed off as he looked up from the boxes contents at her.

"Do you like it?" she asked, not sure what his silence meant.

"Sharon, this is..." when words failed him, he slowly drew her to him, lowering her gently onto his lap as he caressed her cheek and kissed her deeply. He couldn't believe the trouble she'd gone through that night, the planning of the evening and the thoughtfulness of the gift.

Not knowing what to say, he poured his feelings into the kiss, his hands making long strokes up and down her back as she clung to him.

The overheard words at her parents house haunted him. No wonder Sharon doubted how much she meant to him, how deeply he cared for her. While he'd known about the importance of the night, he hadn't thought about anything so elaborate to convey his feelings for her. The action figure he'd purchased - similar to the one she'd teased him with during their first date - was a cheap token compared to the gift she'd given him. She hadn't just given him a box of art supplies, Sharon had once again returned a small part of his old life to him. He hadn't so much as doodled since 1945 - not for any conscious reason, he just hadn't. That part of him had just been frozen in the past.

Until now.

He wanted to tell her how he felt, what having her in his life - and his heart - meant. He just didn't know how. He'd watched, read and learned enough in the twenty-first century to know that the "L"-word was given out far more frequently than it had been in his time. People used it to describe their feelings for their phones, cars, fast food...Compared to what Steve felt for Sharon, love by the current definition paled in comparison to what he felt for Sharon.

So how could her tell her how he felt? How could he show her that she was the most important person in the world to him? That his life was richer for having her in it? How could he tell her that she completed him in a way he'd worried was impossible?

Since he couldn't find the words, he continued to hold her, to use his hands and lips to demonstrate his feelings - his need - for Sharon. Finally, slowly, she pulled away, more than a little breathless. Giving him a tentative smile, she said, "I guess that means you liked it."

He swallowed the well of emotion he was feeling, tamping it down until he knew what to do with it, and simply said, "I love it."

Sharon's smile widened. "I'm glad. Let's have dessert and then you can play with your new toys while I clean up the kitchen."