"You know, I could've run down to the car and been back by now."

"You don't need to be running anywhere, baby. Your patchman's got this."

"Steve," Kayla groaned as her husband continued battling the stuck zipper of his right jacket pocket that was currently housing his house keys.

Steve was making every effort to unstick the zipper one-handed so he could keep his free arm snugly wrapped around her. While Kayla appreciated the gesture, her impatience was starting to show.

"At least let me look at the zipper. If the fabric or something's caught in the pull thing-"

"The pull thing?" Steve laughed. "You talk that technical when you're operating, baby?" he teased.

"Sorry, I'm not board certified in zipper anatomy," Kayla retorted.

"If you let me take a look at one, though, I'm a quick study," she said as Steve shook his head.

"I don't doubt that, baby, but I saw you eyeing my knife. You think I don't know what those hot little surgeon's hands of yours will do to get a hold of these keys?"

"Steve, all it would maybe require, maybe," Kayla stressed, "is a small incision to the lining of the pocket. I promise you, no harm will come to the jacket."

"It's an old friend, Sweetness. Just humor me another minute before you come at us with a blade," Steve sighed, doubling his efforts with the zipper pull.

"Oh, c'mon now, dude! Work with me here!" he hissed.

"Okay, that's it."

Rolling her eyes, Kayla ducked out from under Steve's arm.

"Kayla!"

"You were talking to the coat, Steve!"

After fishing his knife from his back pocket, Kayla knelt on the hallway rug, grabbing hold of the jacket hem before he could even react.

"Oh, baby, hang on now," Steve sighed, turning towards her. "C'mon. You shouldn't be-"

"I'll be fine if you just quit moving already!"
Reaching for the zipper pull, Kayla examined it closely as Steve looked down guiltily.

"No, here I am being a damn brickhead while you're down there trying to-"

"It's fine, Steve..." Kayla sighed before she smiled, realizing that her earlier diagnosis was dead on and the course of treatment was straightforward enough.

"No, it's not fine, Kayla! You're not feeling well, and you're tired, and I'm just standing here like a jackass-" Steve ranted, not hearing or noticing the zipper give.

"-locking us out of our apartment, worried over my goddamn jacket when you're-"

"You're so worried?!" Kayla interrupted. "Then unlock the door and get us inside."

"No, there's no excusing it, Sweetness. You wait here. I'll go down to the car and get your set of...wait, what?"

"Unlock the door..."

Letting go of the jacket hem, she shoved the apartment keys into Steve's palm.

"And get us inside," she demanded, looking up in amusement as Steve looked from her to the keys, to his unstuck pocket, and back again in awe.

"Told you I was a quick study."

"Oh, baby..." he laughed, pulling Kayla up off the rug and into his arms.

"And see?"

Waving the still sheathed butterfly knife, she grinned, returning it to Steve's back pocket.

"Didn't even need to cut."

When he leaned in and kissed her, met with a head rush that had nothing to do with his lips on hers, Kayla pulled back slightly but clutched at Steve's shoulders for support, feeling him tense under her hands as her knees buckled.

"Kayla? Baby?"

"No, it's okay. I'm okay. Just stood up too fast, that's all."

"Sweetness..."

"And then you went and kissed me. I got a little weak in the knees," Kayla shrugged. "Can you blame me?"

"Never, baby," Steve assured.

"Just don't go blaming me for being a little cautious right now, okay?" he said as he scooped Kayla up in his arms, much to her annoyance.

"A little... it's two feet to the door, Steve!" she whined as she fidgeted, looking over her shoulder to make sure none of the neighbors were out and about to see them.

"Two feet you don't have to worry about being weak-kneed for, Sweetness."

"All I'm worried about right now is you! You threw your back out last week!" she hissed.

"I'm not running a marathon here, Kayla! I'm just getting the both of us inside like you asked!"

When getting inside took longer than usual, her stress level making her snappier than usual, Kayla was set to ask Steve if they'd be back in their apartment sometime this calendar year. Until she noticed his hand was quivering so much he could barely hold the key, let alone unlock the door with it.

Her snappiness giving way to a deep sorrow that felt like it could swallow her whole; curling up on Steve's shoulder she reached back to stroke his hair, then pressed her lips to his bristly cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Managing a nod, after letting out a slow breath and re-situating Kayla in his arms, Steve's hand stopped shaking just long enough for him to finally unlock the damn door.