AN: Okay, okay, please put down the pitchfork guys, I know, I know. I didn't mean to take a two month hiatus, it just kind of happened. With graduation and job search and stress, I kind of hit a wall when it came to writing. I'm trying to get back into it, but its kind of difficult. The plot is a little slow going here before it picks up again big time and right now its just about getting over the hump. Hopefully I'll be getting back to updating regularly once I hit that. If you're still with me, I really appreciate it and hope that you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my fantasies about Chris Evans. :)

Steve POV:

Steve lay in bed later that night, unable to bring his mind all the way down to sleep. Charlotte curled up against his side, her warm, naked body giving him immense comfort. She'd passed out just about as soon as her head hit the pillow. Sure she'd been a bit tipsy when she'd come in that night, but she'd also been sober enough to finally spit out the words he'd been waiting all week to hear. He chuckled quietly to himself at the memory, the look on her face of complete shock and bewilderment. He'd known all week, ever since Clint's pep talk, but the moment those words came out of her mouth Steve felt the rest of it click into place. The feeling of relief and completion had washed over him like an avalanche. He hoped that she'd come along, that she'd realize it on her own without too much nudging, but he couldn't resist the gifts and was incredibly satisfied when she'd said she loved them. It was truly amazing how well it seemed he already knew her. They shouldn't make sense, it shouldn't be this easy, but it was. It was as if she'd been made for him.

He had no idea how he'd managed to deserve her, wondering what the hell he'd done in his, honestly fairly short, life to deserve someone so perfect for him. He was amazed at his luck, honestly, amazed that anyone would want a beat up old soldier like himself. She was leagues ahead of anything he'd ever hoped to have, unlike anyone he'd ever known. He'd never had any luck with women before the serum, or even afterwards really. She'd been the first to really look at him, really look into his soul and not run away screaming. Sure, he'd had to play a little dirty to get her on the same page and nudge her along, but the gifts, the night out with the girls (he'd have to thank them all profusely tomorrow) and a little bit of liquid courage had done the trick. He looked over at her, lips parted in sleep, snoring ever so slightly and he grinned, picturing years, decades of waking up next to her, buying a brownstone in the city and filling it with kids. Everything he always wanted and never let himself believe he could have.

He rose slowly, careful not to jostle her, pulling on pants and walking to the windows overlooking the city. He knew it was an old fashioned idea, but people still got married and had kids now didn't they? He was sure it'd be a much more difficult mission to convince her to spend the rest of her life with him, but hoped that he was up to it. He'd managed to convince her to fall in love with him in a week, how long would it take for him to convince her to marry him? He smiled humorlessly, probably quite a bit longer, he thought to himself. She'd want an actual relationship, want to really get to know each other before making a commitment, she was that kind of gal; smart, practical. And he wanted one too, wanted to know every piece he could about her, but figured that was what marriage was for. In his time, people got married quickly. Marriage was about getting to know each other and growing together, something people nowadays didn't seem to fully grasp.

He knew that he would love her forever without conditions, that was just the kind of love he gave. Fear clenched in his chest for a brief moment. What if she wasn't like that? He already knew that she thought too much, over analyzing things instead of just letting herself feel them. If he gave her too much time she might change her mind, not wanting to tie herself to someone who risked his life on a weekly basis with his own set of issues from his past. He couldn't blame her for that, no one could.

He sighed and crossed his arms. He'd have to move fast, but not too fast of course. He really didn't want to trick her. He wanted the world for her, and loved her enough that he would do anything to give it to her if she'd let him have the chance. A plan began formulating slowly in the back of his mind. It would be hard, and he'd have to be patient and not slip up like he had before, but he imagined he could do it. He'd give her her time, slowly convince her that he was what she wanted, that they belonged together and that together, they could have everything they dreamed.

Two small hands slipped around him, holding onto his arms at his chest, a short solid body coming to rest against his. Two lips pressed against the center of his spine and he smiled.

"Didn't think you'd wake up any time soon," he murmured, stroking the hand that grasped his left forearm.

"Mm, missed you," came the sleepy reply. He smiled and turned, taking her face into his hands, her green eyes heavily lidded with sleep and desire, hair mussed and wild, falling in dark waves around her heart shaped face. In the light from the city, just the dim glow of the moon lighting her, she was breathtaking. His fingers itched for a pencil, or charcoal, something to capture how she looked tonight. She looked up at him, slightly puzzled.

"What? Do I have drool on my face?" she asked. He chuckled and kissed her softly, nuzzling his nose against hers.

"No, I was just thinking about how much I love you," he murmured. He felt rather than saw her lips curve against him.

"I love you too," she replied and then leaned back, "Please tell me we're not going to be one of those couples who says it so much it loses all meaning." He laughed.

"I hope not. I guess it depends on if we ever get sick of saying it. Are you sick of hearing it?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure, you'll have to run it by me again," she said, pulling him closer and smirking slightly. He smiled and kissed her briefly.

"I love you Charlotte," he murmured.

"Hmm, not sick of it yet. How about you?" she asked, leaning back to look into his eyes, "I love you Steve." He sighed, feeling that avalanche come over him again and smiled.

"Not yet." he replied, leaning down to touch his forehead to hers.

"Well, then. I guess we'll just have to keep saying it then," she said.

"I guess so," he replied before sweeping her off of her feet, making her squeal and her eyes grow wide.

"Steve!" she exclaimed. He grinned and started carrying her back to the bedroom.

"Let's go see if we can make each other sick of it, huh?" he propositioned, strategically moving to pinch her thigh, making her squeak in surprise and laugh aloud, the sound of their laughter reverberating off of the walls of the apartment before they disappeared into his bedroom.

AN: Just a short one, but there's more to come I promise. Review please!