The soapy dishes clinked gently together in the half-full sink, suds splashing over them like a tiny sea.

"What a lovely picnic," Debi sighed as she rubbed a platter dry with a towel.

Tina smiled and handed her a freshly-washed bowl.

"Yeah, it was nice. And we still have the next day, too," Tina reminded her.

Her mother grinned widely and patted her daughter on the back. From behind, the two women looked like they could have been the same person, but for the gray in Debi's hair and the curl of her shoulders.

"Who is that?" Debi asked suddenly, pointing out the window.

Tina peeked over her shoulder and saw a tall, blonde man refereeing group of little boys as they played kickball.

"That's Steve, Mom," she smiled and waved at him through the glass.

Her mom analyzed her look.

"You love him," she stated simply.

Tina was caught a little off-guard.

"Well, yeah-uh. I do. He's my boyfriend, remember?"

"I see it in your eyes. Are you soulmates, Christina?"

"Huh? Mom?"

Debi chuckled softly and tucked one of Tina's curls behind her ears.

"Do you feel it in your heart? When he looks at you, can you feel that he loves you in the core of your soul?"

"Yeah, I-I think so," Tina trailed off and stared harder at the man she loved. Carter was still tucked close to his chest, while Kenny and Chase, the eight year old ringleaders of the young boys in the family stood in conference with Steve. The soldier smiled and tousled their hair. His eyes were magnetically blue, his grin soft and patient. The smaller boys began crowding around. Ricky poked his brother in the belly, but Carter laughed it off, good kid that he was. Kenny suddenly flew off and seized the kickball, presenting it to Steve. With a look of mock concentration, the captain one-handedly punted the thing directly up. It disappeared from sight and the boys cheered. Ricky reached up to high-five him, and Steve responded good-naturedly. His hair shone in the afternoon sun, and his t-shirt showed off his arms. Steve met Tina's eyes through the window again.

Then, she didn't give a rat what he looked like. His gaze held her like a hypnotist's. She could feel his gaze pounding through her heart, in her fingertips, the roots of her hair, her toes. Every fiber of her being felt alive. She was warm and joyful. He loves me. He smiled and caught the ball without looking away. I would have fallen in love with him if he was still the scrawny before-serum Steve. He'd still be the man I love. And he'd still be perfect for me in every way.

"Yes. I do, Mom. I do feel that."

…

Steve lazily moved his feet in circles in the cool lake water, watching the ripples ricochet off each other.

"You've really never been fishing before?" Tina's father asked as he leaned against a pole on the dock.

"Nope," Steve replied, shading his eyes from the sun. "I lived my whole life in Brooklyn. My dad died when I was little, and my mom had to work a lot to support us. There really wasn't money to go anywhere."

"Mm," Jeff grunted, readjusting himself. "In my experience, kids that grow up without dads tend to be punks. I was one," he chortled, "But my Deb fixed that up. You seem like a real good guy, Steve."

"Thanks," Steve smiled, "I try."

"Do you?"

"Yessir. Otherwise I'd keep losing ground."

"Losing ground," Jeff cocked an eyebrow up.

"Tina's already so far ahead of me with being good. If I slack off now, I'll never catch up," Steve rationalized.

Her dad huffed a little laugh and checked the fishing line.

"Tina," he said thoughtfully, "She's been Christina, Chrissy, Chris…never Tina though. That what her friends call her at school?"

"No," Steve replied, "Just me. When I met her, I asked what her name was and she stood there thinking," he laughed at the memory.

Jeff giggled.

"I can see her doing something like that…big goof."

"She listed all these things people call her…so I picked one that wasn't on the list. I wanted to have something special to call her."

Her father nodded reflectively.

"I was fully prepared to hate your guts," he stated after a few moments' pause.

Steve grimaced.

"I don't, for the record," Jeff reassured him, "If I could have picked out the exact characteristics of the guy my little girl should be with, I would have ended up with you anyway. I'm happy for you two. And I gotta love a guy who likes the Dodgers."

Steve sighed and smiled hugely at Jeff's grudging form of affection.

"Well, thanks. All my friends are trying to pressure me into rooting for the Yankees, though."

"Hold strong! You don't have to root for the home team. It makes you tough."

But I am rooting for the home team…of 70 years ago...Steve thought wryly. Just then, Jeff's fishing pole bent. The two men leaped from their relaxed positions and Jeff began coaching Steve on how to reel in his first catch.

…

Steve followed the curves of Tina's curly hair with his eyes. The moonlight shone through the window of her tiny room, turning her hair silver as it lay spayed across the pillow. Her eyelids fluttered as she dreamed, and not for the first time, Steve wished he could know what she dreamed about. She mumbled softly, and he listened, but as usual her words were unrecognizable. Steve stared out the window at the shining lake and remembered Jeff's laughter as they reeled in the smallest fish known to man and Debi's sweet smile as he inhaled five plates of pasta. That woman knows how to make some darn good pasta, he thought with a smile. And she loves to feed people. He thought fondly of his new friend Carter, and of the younger boys' looks of astonishment of how far he could punt a kickball (and he didn't even try his hardest). As he listened to Tina's slow breaths, he tried to identify the feeling that was currently gripping him. He felt…happy? No that wasn't quite right. Safe? Yes, but something more. Tina giggled in her sleep and wiggled slightly. Relaxed? Hm. Close…

"Steve," Tina almost whispered.

"Yeah?"

Tina rolled over and buried her face in Steve's chest. It was a moment before her realized she was still sleeping. He smiled in the dark. So that's what she dreams about, he thought smugly. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her closer, still thinking. Then it hit him. It was something he hadn't felt in a very long time. A memory faded from decades of nonuse.

Family. I feel home. I feel…normal.

Yes...I'm late. As usual :/ I re-wrote this chapter about three times...I'm not sure why, it was just tough to write for some reason. Anyway, let me know how you like it!

Review for hugs from Steve :D