Even if it doesn't work out
Even if it doesn't make sense
And you never see me again
Can we just be happy now?
Even if we burn this down
Even if we can't be friends
'Cause you hate me in the end
Can we just be happy now?

- "CWJBHN" by Jake Scott & Josie Dunne

Steve lay in bed, staring at the screen of his phone and wishing that he could just stay there, rather than face the day ahead. 6:49 a.m., the screen announced. July 4, 2016.

Last year, he'd found himself in a similar position on the morning of his birthday. Waking up alone, wishing he could just go back to sleep until the day had passed completely and he didn't have to soldier through another day pretending to be happy when he was weighed down by grief.

His last birthday had ended much better than that. It had been the best birthday he'd ever experienced, because Bucky had revealed himself at last. He'd discovered that he wasn't alone, and there was nothing left to grieve. But Steve knew he couldn't expect the same thing to happen this time. It wasn't simply a matter of taking off a mask or speaking the truth. No, this time the solution was months away, mired in uncertainty and a thousand ways everything could go wrong.

Funny. His birthday wish was the same as it had been last year, yet it seemed even more impossible now than it had been when Bucky was dead.

To stave off the moment when he would have to get up, Steve slowly scrolled through the birthday messages all his friends had sent him. Well...all but the one he most wanted to hear from. His daily phone call with Bucky was the one thing he was looking forward to today.

When Sam had asked him if he wanted to do anything special on the fourth, Steve had replied that he didn't really feel like celebrating. He was still reeling from what had happened the other day at the park, right on the heels of the new charges against Bucky. It seemed like everything was going wrong at once. What was there to be happy about?

So he'd asked Sam not to bake him a cake, and he'd told Natasha there wasn't going to be a party when she teasingly asked him why she hadn't been invited. The one concession he'd made was to watch fireworks from the roof of the apartment building that night. Sam had reminded him that Jake had never seen fireworks, and that certainly wasn't a privilege Steve was going to deny him.

As he stared idly at the timestamp on Sharon's birthday message, calculating the time difference in Berlin and trying to imagine what she'd been doing when she sent it, Steve heard Jake opening his bedroom door, and knew he needed to get up. With a weary sigh, he forced himself to go through the motions of his morning routine. Moping around wasn't going to do anyone any good.

He knew he was slow and distracted this morning, and he knew Jake noticed as they sat down to breakfast. Jake always seemed to pick up on even the slightest changes in the expected routine, so he would definitely notice when Steve found himself staring blankly at the toaster for a full minute before realizing he'd forgotten to push the handle down. Or when he absent-mindedly poured coffee into Jake's glass instead of the usual apple juice.

So he supposed he should have seen it coming when Jake expressed his displeasure at Steve's halfhearted breakfast offerings. "I want Rice Krippies," he announced right as Steve finished pouring milk over his bowl of Cheerios.

Steve swallowed a frazzled sigh. Couldn't he have said that before he'd poured the milk...? "You told me you wanted Cheerios."

Jake frowned up at him, his knuckles going white around the edge of the table. "I want Rice Krippies," he repeated.

"Well, I just poured you a bowl of Cheerios," Steve said, struggling to keep the impatience out of his voice. "Why don't you eat this first, and then if you're still hungry, you can have Rice Krispies next."

"No!" Jake's voice rose with every word. "I—want—Rice—Krippies!" He swiped his hand at the bright yellow box of cereal, knocking it over and sending most of its contents rolling out onto the floor.

"Calm down, please," Steve said, speaking quietly but letting a warning enter his voice. "Or do I need to send you to your room?"

"No, no, no, no!" Screaming the last word, Jake hurled the bowl of cereal at Steve. The plastic bowl thumped against his chest, slopping milk and cereal all over his shirt.

"Jacob." Something in his voice made Jake fall still immediately, looking up at him with wide eyes like a cornered rabbit. "Go to your room until you can calm down, and then we'll talk about this. Go on."

Jake turned tail and ran off to his room, slamming the door behind himself.

With an impatient huff, Steve looked around at the mess he now had to clean up. Cheerios clung to the big wet splotch in the middle of his white shirt, and they were splattered all over the floor and the cupboard behind him. At least nothing had broken this time.

"Great birthday present," he grumbled under his breath. "Thanks, Jake." But he knew that wasn't fair, so saying it out loud only made him feel worse.

Pulling off his shirt, he used the dry part to wipe the drips of milk off his arms and the cupboard, grabbing the mostly-empty box of Cheerios as he carefully stepped over the puddle on the floor. Just then, the doorbell rang.

What? Why was Sam ringing the doorbell? He had a key. And even if the chain was locked, wouldn't he just knock?

Unlocking the door and opening it, Steve said, "Did you lose your keys, or...?"

But it wasn't Sam standing on his doorstep.

"Sharon!"

She was dressed casually, in jeans and a white T-shirt with the American flag on it, and she'd pulled her hair back in a ponytail. "Um...hi..." She bit her lip, her cheeks turning pink as she kept her eyes determinedly fixed on his face.

Steve looked down at himself, suddenly remembering the state he was in. "Uh." Heat rushed to his face as he hastily hid behind the box of cereal he still held. An awkward moment of silence stretched into eternity. Desperate to break it, he said the first thing that came to mind. "Cheerios?"

"No thanks, I've already eaten."

Their eyes met, and they both lost the battle at the same moment, erupting into nervous laughter.

"Um...I can come back later..." Sharon said, still giggling behind her hand.

"No, no! Sorry, come on in." Steve hastily stepped aside. "I, uh...wasn't expecting you."

"Clearly." Sharon bit her lip again, unable to completely suppress her grin.

"Just...give me a second and we'll start over, okay?" Steve fled to the safety of his room, cheeks still burning.

Only when he'd closed the door behind himself did he realize he'd brought the box of Cheerios with him. Groaning softly at himself, he hastened to change his clothes. They never were going to have a normal interaction, were they?

Once he was fully clothed in jeans and a blue T-shirt untouched by milk or breakfast cereal, and he'd hastily brushed his teeth just in case, Steve ventured back into the kitchen. To his surprise, he found Sharon on her hands and knees on the kitchen floor, mopping up the mess with paper towels.

"Oh, you don't have to do that!" Steve tried to hurry to her side, but was slowed down by having to pick his way through the minefield of Cheerios on the floor.

"That's okay," Sharon said cheerfully, looking up from her pile of soggy paper towels. "You looked like you had your hands full..."

They both looked at the box of Cheerios in his hand, and started laughing again. Ruefully shaking his head at himself, Steve finally put the box back where it belonged on top of the refrigerator, then held out his hand to help Sharon to her feet. "Yeah, sorry. Jake had a bit of a temper tantrum right before you got here."

Sharon's hand was warm in his as she let him pull her to her feet. "Don't worry about it." After tossing the paper towels in the trash can, she turned back to him and said, "So...shall we just pretend none of that happened?"

"Please," Steve said earnestly.

"Then...surprise!" Sharon said with a grin. "Happy Birthday!"

"I thought you were in Berlin," Steve said, pulling her into a brief hug of greeting.

"Well, I was until last night," Sharon said brightly. "After everything that's happened with Bucky, and then Jake...I just thought maybe you could do with a pleasant surprise for a change." She pressed her lips together, clearly fighting down more laughter. "But maybe I should have called ahead to give you warning..."

"Hey," Steve said, pretending to frown sternly, "I thought we were pretending nothing happened."

Sharon immediately schooled her expression to one of wide-eyed innocence and clasped her hands behind her back. "I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about."

She looks adorable like that. I want to kiss her. The thought flitted through his mind in a split second, and Steve quickly turned away. Wait, what? No, hang on, I can't—not right now—I'm not ready...

Desperately trying to focus on anything besides the only other person in the room, Steve looked down and remembered the Cheerios all over the floor. Gratefully latching onto the excuse to leave the room for a few minutes, Steve said, "Sorry, but Jake's still in time out, so I should probably go get him. He never actually got his breakfast..."

"Go right ahead," Sharon said. "And if you tell me where the broom is, I can take care of the rest of this mess."

"Thanks, but you really don't have to—"

"Look, it's your birthday," Sharon laughed, "and I didn't actually get you a present besides me being here, so you might as well make use of me, right?"

So once Steve pointed out the closet where they kept the broom, Sharon set about sweeping up all the Cheerios on the floor. Steve smiled fondly at her back. She's so sweet...and pretty... Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he headed for Jake's room.

After knocking, Steve opened the door to find Jake sitting with perfect posture on the edge of his bed, not fidgeting or even swinging his legs back and forth. It was the same position he was always in when Steve sent him to his room after a tantrum. How depressing, to realize time outs had almost become part of their daily routine. Was that normal? He had no idea.

"Hey, buddy," Steve said, quietly closing the door behind himself. "Are you ready to talk about what happened?"

"Yes, sir."

Jake wasn't throwing things or yelling, nor was he ripping off his shirt or trembling in the corner, but Steve's heart still ached at how stiffly Jake moved and spoke, like a little soldier facing a court-martial. He sat down on the bed and rested a hand carefully on Jake's shoulder. "Now. Do you know why I sent you to your room?"

Jake stared straight ahead at the wall opposite. "'Cause I didn't follow your orders."

"Well, yes," Steve conceded, though he wouldn't have worded it like that. "I know you weren't happy about the cereal I was making for you, but that wasn't the best way to tell me, was it? You made a big mess, and then you had to come sit in time out. Can you think of a better way you could have acted?"

"Not say nothing."

"Or you could say 'please,'" Steve suggested. "You could say, 'Can I please have Rice Krispies instead?' And then we can talk about it, instead of losing our tempers and throwing things. Doesn't that sound better?"

Jake looked solemnly up at him. Steve couldn't tell if he understood or agreed with anything Steve had just said, but he dutifully responded, "Yes, sir."

"Okay." He patted Jake on the back and said, "Now, how about some breakfast?"

He got to his feet and was nearly at the door when he heard Jake softly say, "Steve?" When he turned back, Jake asked, "Can I please have Rice Krippies?"

Steve beamed. "Yes, you can have Rice Krispies. Thank you for asking nicely, buddy. That was really good."

When they emerged into the kitchen, they found Sharon just putting away the broom and dustpan. Her smile widened as soon as she saw Jake hovering uncertainly behind Steve.

"Jake, there's someone I want you to meet." Steve grasped Jake's shoulder and gently pulled him forward. "This is Miss Sharon. Can you say hello?"

"Hello," he said in a tiny voice, watching the stranger in his kitchen as if expecting her to grow fangs and a spiked tail at any moment.

"Hi there, Jake," Sharon said, bending down to look him in the eye but keeping her distance. It seemed she remembered what Steve had told her about how wary he was around people and situations he wasn't used to. "Your daddy's told me so much about you! It's nice to finally meet you."

Predictably, Jake just stared at her.

Steve poured cups of coffee for himself and Sharon, and they sat at the kitchen table while Jake finally started his breakfast. Sharon tried several times to engage Jake in conversation, asking him about his favorite color and singing a silly little song that had apparently come from a Rice Krispies commercial when she was a kid. Steve had a feeling that any other kid would have warmed up to her immediately. Of course, Jake just shoveled cereal into his mouth as fast as possible and didn't take his eyes off Sharon for a second, staring at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

Sam showed up right as Jake polished off his second bowl. After introductions were made, the first thing Sharon said was, "Okay, so you know Steve pretty well, right? Anything I should know?"

Sam grinned. "Oh, there's plenty I could tell you, trust me. But one thing that's handy to know is that he only seems to be the smartest guy in the room. It's the chiseled jaw and that thing he does with his eyebrows."

"I'm right here," Steve protested.

"But secretly," Sam continued, ignoring him, "underneath all that, he's actually a total dope."

Sharon smirked. "Yeah, I think I discovered that one for myself already."

Steve put his hands on his hips. "Aren't you supposed to be nice to me on my birthday?"

Sam raised his hands defensively. "Hey, man, truth is truth. I'm just sayin', you jump out of planes without a parachute, so..."

"So do you!"

"Yeah, but I have wings, dude."

"Not anymore."

"And do you see me jumping out of a plane?"

As Steve continued the friendly banter, he was aware of Sharon laughing at them and Jake watching the proceedings curiously. The kitchen rang with more laughter and liveliness than it ever had before.

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket. "It's Bucky," he said, his heart leaping into his throat as he looked at the screen.

"Aha!" Sam said, rubbing his hands together. "A perfect chance to tell Sharon all of your secrets!"

Steve rolled his eyes, walking back into his room to take the call. For a moment, he was worried that he wouldn't be able to give Bucky all of his attention, when he could hear Sharon's laugh from the kitchen. But he needn't have worried. As soon as Bucky started talking, Steve was aware of nothing other than the familiar voice in his ear.

"Happy Birthday, Stevie."

"Thanks." Steve grinned in response to the smile he could hear in Bucky's voice. "Wish I could come see you today." But of course, this year his birthday fell on a Monday, when Rikers had no visitation.

"Yeah..." There was a moment of silence, and when Bucky spoke again, Steve could hear the false cheer in his voice. "So what am I missing? Are you doing anything special today?"

"Not really," Steve said with a pang in his chest. "I...don't really feel like doing much today." Not without you. The words went unspoken, but they seemed to fizzle across the phone line all the same.

"We'll just have to make up for it next year," Bucky said softly. "I'll have to get you two presents."

"There's only one present I really want."

"Yeah? What's that?"

Steve's eyes suddenly filled with tears, and he had to take a deep breath to keep his voice steady. "A hug."

Silence again. Steve wondered if it would be easier or harder if he could see the expression on Bucky's face.

"Guess you'll just have to put it on my tab," Bucky finally said, his voice rather husky.

Steve wanted to say something about how different this day felt from last year, but there didn't seem to be much point. Of course it was worse. There wasn't anything Bucky could do about it. Bringing it up would only make them both feel terrible.

With obvious effort, Bucky said a little more cheerfully, "Are you going to watch fireworks tonight? We'll probably see it on TV here."

"Yeah," Steve said, clearing his throat. "Jake's never seen fireworks before, so we'll just watch from the roof. Oh," he added, suddenly remembering, "and Sharon is here too. She decided to surprise me for my birthday."

Bucky scoffed, the smile in his voice sounding much more genuine. "Then what the hell are you still talking to me for?"

"It's my birthday, Buck. No way am I missing out on a chance to talk to you."

"You've got some weird priorities, Stevie. No wonder you were single for so long."

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but just then they got the message that their time was almost up. So instead, he simply said, "Thanks for calling, Buck. We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Yeah. I expect you to tell me all the juicy details."

"Shut up, jerk."

"You first, punk."

When Sharon had first gotten the idea to surprise Steve with a visit on his birthday, it had seemed crazy and foolish. To be honest, she'd still had her doubts even as she bought a last-minute plane ticket and excitedly packed a bag for the next couple nights. She barely had any time off left after this trip; she probably wouldn't even be able to come home for Christmas.

What if he already had plans? What if he'd rather not take the time to spend with her? They weren't that serious yet, after all. Were they? Was she just throwing her precious time and money away on a relationship that wasn't even going anywhere? Maybe, a few months from now, she would regret this spur-of-the-moment decision.

But it didn't take long before Sharon's doubts began to fade away. Sam offered to watch Jake while she and Steve went out to enjoy their time together. Sharon didn't really have a concrete idea of what they were going to do; she'd only thought as far as getting here and surprising Steve.

So they began by taking a walk to a nearby park. Not the park where Jake had his little incident, of course—this was a small one, with no playground but several pathways through the trees, like a little oasis of greenery in the middle of the city.

Steve had been very quiet ever since he'd come back from his phone call with Bucky. He didn't say much as they walked to the park and strolled along under the dappled shade of the trees. Sharon glanced up at his pensive expression and wondered if something had happened with Bucky, or if the phone call had just been a reminder to Steve that his best friend wasn't here. Now that he wasn't smiling or laughing, he looked so tired. Worn down. That hadn't come across so strongly when they'd talked on the phone over the past few days.

So she slipped her hand into his to get his attention and quietly asked, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I think you'd get more than a penny's worth," Steve sighed.

"That's okay." Sharon let go of his hand and dug in her purse. "I've got some extra change."

When she produced a handful of coins and dumped it into his palm, Steve actually laughed a little. "What am I, a vending machine?"

Pocketing the coins, he took her hand again as they continued to stroll slowly down the path. "Sorry, I just...don't really feel like celebrating much today. Not while Bucky's in prison." He sighed heavily. "I thought he was going to be here today. I thought I'd never have to endure another holiday without him. I thought I wouldn't spend another birthday just wishing..."

He trailed off, but Sharon didn't press him further. She kept quiet, sensing that Steve needed to get all of this off his chest. She could only imagine the anguish she would feel if one of her loved ones had been sent to prison, and all she could do was wait.

They walked in silence for a minute or two before Steve continued. "And then there's Jake too. It would be one thing if it were just tantrums like the one this morning. I mean, I'd expect that; he's just a kid. But...now he's hurt someone. Seriously hurt someone. And he didn't even seem sorry about it. He saw it as something he had to do...and doesn't that mean he'll do it again? It doesn't seem to make a difference what I say to him."

They came upon a bench by the side of the path, and Steve sank onto it as if too weary to keep going. Sharon sat beside him, still holding his hand. She could practically feel his pain radiating off him in waves, but there wasn't really anything to do or say. All she could do was listen.

"It's like...I can't make a difference," Steve said, staring absently at a pigeon pecking hopefully in the dirt in front of them. "I can't bring Bucky home, I can't get through to Jake... All I can do is watch them get further and further away from me. And that's always the way it is, isn't it? I couldn't do anything when I lost my mother...or when Bucky fell from the train that day. It's not that it was my fault...but I couldn't do anything to prevent it. And I can't do anything now either."

Sharon wished she could make all of those problems disappear. She wished she had the perfect thing to say in this moment, something that would restore Steve's hope and courage as he faced the long, hard days to come. But she felt as useless as Steve did, because there wasn't any way they could snap their fingers and magically resolve every problem.

Finally, she said the only thing that occurred to her. "What do you think Bucky would say if he were here?"

For a moment as pain flitted across Steve's face, she thought she'd said the wrong thing. But when he turned to look at her, a sad smile played about the corners of his mouth. "He'd tell me to stop moping around and start paying attention to the pretty lady sitting next to me."

She couldn't help smiling back. "I really don't mind listening to you. I just wish there was more I could do to help."

His smile softened as he pressed her hand between both of his. "It's enough."

Sharon's heart skipped a beat as she looked into his eyes. They were as blue as the sky. The moment stretched out, longer and longer...

Steve was the one who broke the spell. "I should follow Bucky's advice," he said quietly. "Thanks for listening...but we have the whole day ahead of us. We should do something."

"What did you have in mind?"

Sighing, Steve glanced around the park. "I don't know...something that'll distract me, I guess."

Sharon thought for a moment, then said, "I have just the thing."

Sharon's idea of a good distraction was Coney Island. As they rode the bus to get there, Steve wasn't sure it was going to work. He'd tried going there one time shortly after waking up from the ice, but it hadn't been the greatest experience. One minute, he would feel disoriented and overwhelmed by the crowds and the flashing lights. The next, he would catch some familiar sight and be smacked in the face with the aching loss of the friend who'd always gone there with him.

But this time, he wasn't alone. Anytime memories or regrets threatened to eclipse the present, all he had to do was look to the side and find Sharon right beside him. That made all the difference in the end.

As soon as they stepped off the bus, Steve spotted a bunch of street vendors' stalls lined up in front of the amusement park, hoping to catch the eyes of passing tourists. Steve immediately headed for a cart laden with flowers of every color imaginable. When she saw where they were headed, Sharon laughingly protested, "Wait, you don't have to get me a bouquet! We're going to be walking around all day."

Steve smirked at her as they reached the cart. "Who said anything about a bouquet?"

After looking around at his options (and sneakily making note of which kinds Sharon seemed to admire the most), Steve ended up just buying two small sunflowers, which he then carefully twined into her ponytail. Sharon immediately demanded that he take a picture of his handiwork, and the smile when she saw the result told Steve that he'd made the right choice.

They spent most of the day just strolling along the boardwalk, people-watching and window-shopping. On a sunny summer day like this, the place was packed. There were long lines for almost every restaurant they came to, so they settled for a lunch of hot dogs and ice cream cones from street vendors instead. Sharon tried to get him to try something at the stall that was deep-frying everything from Oreos to butter to corn on the cob, but Steve flatly refused. Just the thought of putting something like that into his mouth made him feel queasy.

Sharon dragged Steve into an arcade when she spotted a game she'd played as a kid. Though Steve tried to protest that he'd never played a single video game, let alone Extreme Gunslinger: Zombie Exterminator, Sharon waved away his worries by saying, "Oh, it's just like shooting a gun for real; you'll get the hang of it in no time!"

That prediction turned out not to be true at all. For one thing, the bright blue plastic gun that she handed him was lighter than any real gun, and there was no recoil either. Steve wasn't sure if it was something about the game itself or if the trigger on his gun was sticking, but he didn't seem able to shoot the pixelated zombies fast enough.

But it was all worth it, because Sharon was obviously enjoying herself. Though she complained her Extreme Gunslinger skills had gotten rusty, she racked up twice as many kills as Steve did, repeatedly coming to Steve's rescue or yelling out advice.

Finally, an enormous two-headed zombie wielding a chainsaw did them in. Putting his gun back in place, Steve said, "Well, I guess I know who to call for help when the zombie apocalypse hits."

Sharon twirled her bright red gun around her finger and pretended to blow away a wisp of smoke.

They tried out a few other games in the arcade ("After all," Steve pointed out, "I have to use up those coins you gave me earlier."). Steve had much better luck with Skee-Ball and air hockey, and he almost beat Sharon in the car-racing game. They also tried out the photo booth, though half of the photos just captured them laughing at the silly expressions they'd made in the previous one. On their way out of the arcade, they stopped to try to get a toy for Jake from the claw game. Steve tried several times to get the big floppy bunny at the back, but in the end they had to settle for a fuzzy green fluffball with eyes that vibrated when it was squeezed.

When they were about to leave, Steve noticed a boy about Jake's age sitting on the coin-operated horse ride, gaping at him with eyes as round as dinner plates. He was so gobsmacked, he didn't even seem to have noticed that the plastic horse had fallen still beneath him. Then Steve noticed the boy was wearing what looked like Captain America pajamas, with a small plastic shield slung lopsided on his back.

With a smile and a wink, Steve put a finger to his lips. The boy's eyes got even rounder, and he clapped his hands over his mouth as if afraid that the news he'd seen his hero would spill out otherwise. Steve chuckled, following Sharon out of the arcade.

As they continued their stroll along the boardwalk, Steve made the mistake of telling Sharon the story of the time he'd thrown up after Bucky had made him ride the Cyclone, which of course led to her insisting they give it a try. "You can't let a bunch of metal and wood get the last laugh!" Sharon cried, pulling him towards the back of the line. "Come on, you're 98! Live a little!"

Letting her tow him along, Steve groaned, "I'm 98! I have lived a little!"

Neither of them ended up puking, thankfully, though Sharon lost one of her sunflowers along the way. But it put Steve into another thoughtful mood, as he thought back to the only other time he'd been on that roller coaster. How many things had changed since then. He barely even felt like the same person, and he was sure that if Bucky were here too, he would agree. But he would have loved to bring Bucky with him. Try out the rides. Tease each other mercilessly. Reminisce about simpler times.

One day—he didn't know when, but someday—maybe they could come back. He would bring Bucky and Jake, and Sam too, and they would all have fun together. Someday.

"Maybe that's enough excitement for a while," Sharon said, watching his expression. "How about we take a ride on the Wonder Wheel, and then find some place for dinner?"

Steve agreed, and they made their way to the enormous Ferris wheel that stretched far above them. When they settled onto the bench in their little carriage, Steve reached out to wrap an arm around Sharon's shoulders. It felt like the most natural thing in the world; he didn't even realize he was doing it until Sharon scooted a little closer, settling against his side.

As he glanced down at the top of her head, Steve felt another urge to kiss her. To just bend over and kiss her sun-warmed hair. To catch a whiff of the slightly bedraggled sunflower still stuck in her ponytail. Or maybe to brush aside the wispy strands at the back of her neck and press his lips to that mole her hair usually covered up...

But...what if she didn't like that? She'd reached out to hold his hand several times today, and she seemed to like sitting with his arm around her shoulders...but maybe she wasn't ready for anything more. After all, the last person who'd kissed her had probably been that awful ex-boyfriend of hers. What if Steve kissed her, and that was all she could think about?

And what about me? Steve thought, watching as the ground gradually grew farther and farther away. I don't exactly have a great track record, do I? For one reason or another, none of the romantic kisses in his past were particularly fond memories. Maybe it's just me, he thought, his heart sinking. Maybe I'm no good at this. Maybe...if I even try...everything will fall to pieces, just like it always does...

Their carriage slowly rose into the air, revealing the view of the amusement park stretching out in all directions. The sunlight had taken on the sleepy, golden quality of late afternoon—too early for sunset, but late enough that the shadows were beginning to stretch longer and longer on the ground. He could see it sparkling on the water off to the left, where hundreds of people milled about on the beach.

He turned to look at Sharon, who was grinning at the group of girls in the carriage in front of them, shrieking in delighted terror at how high up they were. She'd come all the way from Berlin for this. For him. On one hand, it didn't seem at all worth it, to drop everything she was working on just to poke around an amusement park for a day, listening to his woes and trying to cheer him up. But...she'd done it anyway. She seemed to think it was worth it. She hadn't betrayed the slightest sign of impatience or regret—not when he fell silent, not when he couldn't stop talking about the weight on his heart. She was amazing.

Sharon finally seemed to notice his scrutiny. "What?" she laughed.

"You're so beautiful."

Her eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you." Her cheeks were rosy from a touch of sunburn, and her hair turned to gold as they reached the very top of the wheel, emerging from the shadows.

And in that moment, he realized...he didn't care. Well, no, he did care if she rebuffed him, or if this dredged up bad memories for both of them, and he ruined the entire day. But he cared more about trying to tell her, show her, the affection rooting itself deeper and deeper in his heart.

He wanted this. He wanted her.

Steve leaned in closer, his heart pounding. "Can I...?"

"Yes," she breathed.

He kissed her softly, hoping he could somehow convey how much this day had meant to him. And she didn't recoil or push him back. She responded in kind. He closed his eyes to savor the moment, and the whole rest of the world faded away. The regrets of the past and the fears of the future seemed so much less important than this moment right now, with joy exploding in his chest. Who needed fireworks?

They broke apart as the carriage slowly began to descend. Sharon smiled almost shyly, grasping his hand and lacing their fingers together, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Steve couldn't stop smiling either, his heart full to bursting.

He hadn't ruined a thing. There'd been no rude interruptions, no traumatic memories encroaching on the moment, no sudden realization that one of them was more enthusiastic about this relationship than the other. She felt the same way that he did.

And that felt incredible.

Reluctantly, they clambered out of their seats when they reached the ground again. Still holding hands, they set off in search of a good place to eat, finally deciding on a small diner that boasted 'The World's Best Burgers'. Steve thought his bacon cheeseburger tasted amazing—but then, anything would have tasted wonderful that night.

Sharon, on the other hand, was a bit less impressed. "I'm just saying, you can't call it the greatest burger in the world unless it's more than a quarter-pound," she said, taking a dignified slurp of soda from her nearly-empty glass. "I mean, at least use two patties if you don't want it to just end up a glorified appetizer or something. And look how they put the cheese on top of the lettuce and tomatoes! You have to stick it right on top of the beef so it'll melt just right. Especially if it's American cheese like this, because that's practically inedible unless it's mostly melted."

Steve laughed, squirting a generous portion of ketchup onto his plate for his fries. "Does the CIA know about this obsession with burger quality?"

Sharon grinned, shrugging. "Hey, I get an annual psych evaluation, and they haven't fired me yet, right?"

They laughed and joked over the rest of their meal, and Steve's heart felt lighter than it had in ages. Sharon always managed to do that in the end, didn't she?

The sun was beginning to set by the time they finally made it back to Steve's apartment. Sam met them in the hallway, hands full with four lawn chairs. Jake trailed behind him, carefully carrying an apple pie. Apparently, even though Steve had asked for no cake, Sam hadn't been able to resist doing some baking anyway.

"Hey, we're just getting set up on the roof," Sam said. "There's some more snacks on the kitchen table you can bring up."

"Right behind you," Steve said.

But when he held the front door open for Sharon to step inside, and the light from the kitchen fell on her face, Steve realized how pink her face had become. "I think you got a bit too much sun," he said, touching the back of his hand to her cheek to feel how hot it was. "Sorry—I don't really have to worry about that kind of thing anymore, so I didn't even think of it."

"No, it's my own fault," Sharon said, gingerly touching her nose, which had gotten the worst of it. "Should've known I'd turn red as a lobster out there."

"Here, I've got some aloe I can give you," Steve said, beckoning her to follow him to his bathroom. "That should help some."

"So how come you've got aloe if you don't get sunburns?" Sharon asked as he rummaged around under the sink. "I'm assuming Bucky and Jake are the same, and I doubt Sam has much trouble in that area either..."

"Always pays to be prepared." Steve finally found the little jar of aloe in the back corner. "Besides, I might not have to worry about sunburns, but other kinds of burns can still be painful. Here, let me," he added when she reached for the jar.

Sharon stood still and let him gently rub the green gel into her red, irritated skin. At first, Steve just focused on the task at hand, moving carefully so as not to hurt her. But then he noticed the way she was looking at him, with a little smile playing about her lips. He couldn't help smiling in response.

As he spread the soothing gel across her skin, he realized how much he liked this. Taking care of her. Seeing to her needs, even in such a small way. Every gentle brush of his skin against hers was like a reminder of how precious she had already become to him. He wanted to keep her safe, even from something as insignificant as a sunburn.

Of course, she can take care of herself, he thought. And the main thing I need to protect her from is me. I should really make an appointment to get that vasectomy done.

Though he'd finished rubbing the aloe into her skin, Steve didn't move his hand from her cheek. He didn't want the moment to end. All he wanted was to stand here forever, gazing into her eyes, the warmth of her skin reassuring him that he wasn't just dreaming. Every moment of this beautiful day had been real.

"Thank you for today," he murmured. "It was exactly what I needed."

Sharon slowly curled her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer. "Happy Birthday, Steve."

He held her carefully, trying to be mindful of her sunburn. Her embrace was loose, but she didn't pull away. They stayed there until Sam came looking for them, calling out that they were going to miss the fireworks. Steve regretted nothing.

The breeze was cool on Sharon's cheeks as she sat in a lawn chair, nibbling on a piece of Sam's apple pie. The night sky lit up with flashes of color, and the delayed crack of explosions cut through the sounds of the bustling city around them. They weren't particularly close to the fireworks, some of which were obscured by taller buildings, but that was probably a good thing. Jake gripped the arms of his chair tightly, jumping every time there was a particularly loud boom and staring fearfully in the direction of the fireworks.

Steve knelt beside Jake's chair, murmuring softly to him and occasionally pointing at the bursts of color splashing across the sky. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but from what Sharon could tell, it seemed to be helping. Gradually, Jake seemed to get the idea that these explosions weren't a danger to him, even if he didn't enjoy them very much.

Sharon found herself watching Steve more than the fireworks. He was so sweet, so dedicated to Jake. He'd noticed right away that Jake was scared, and he seemed to know exactly what to say to calm him down. What a good father he was.

For a moment, it didn't feel real. Was she, Sharon Carter, really sitting here watching fireworks in New York? Was Steve Rogers really her boyfriend? Had he actually kissed her today?

If someone had told her where she'd be, even just a year ago, she would have laughed out loud. And it wasn't just the improbability of catching the interest of someone as famous as Steve. She'd more or less resigned herself to simply devoting her life to her work, where she knew she would be valued and appreciated for her skills, at least. Much better than the betrayal and humiliation she'd suffered from a man who'd claimed to love her.

As she watched the sky filling with fireworks that almost looked like flowers, Sharon suddenly realized she hadn't thought about Kyle once until just now. Before, when she'd tried going on a date with someone, the memories would creep up on her, tainting what was otherwise a pleasant evening. He would say something that almost sounded like Kyle, or she'd realize she had automatically ordered a salad because Kyle used to make disparaging comments if she ate something he deemed too unhealthy. Or there was that one time she'd actually made it to a third date with a really nice guy, and he'd leaned in to kiss her, but she'd pushed him away because all she could think of in that moment were all the times Kyle had kissed her with lying lips...

But not today. No specter of the past had overshadowed the day, because the present and the future were far too bright.

The fireworks died down, and a hush fell as the cloud of smoke drifted lazily away. "Looks like it's time for the finale!" Sam said.

Sharon glanced at Steve, who gently held Jake's hand in his and murmured something softly to him. No doubt attempting to prepare him.

The silence was shattered with a sudden onslaught of noise as all the rest of the fireworks shot into the air, a dazzling display that took Sharon's breath away. A fleeting thought occurred to her, one that she knew she would have to revisit later in a quieter moment: Kyle was like the fireworks. When she'd thought he loved her, it had been overwhelming. Dazzling. Exhilarating. It was so beautiful while it lasted, but it was over almost as quickly as it had begun, and in the end she was left with nothing but smoke and a ringing silence.

But Steve...he was like the sun. He wasn't flashy and exciting, but every day he was the same. Some might call that boring, but to Sharon, it only meant he was dependable. Reliable. Trustworthy. And even when he was hidden behind clouds of grief and regret, she could still see the light of his heart.

With one final bang, the firework show was over. Even as she clapped appreciatively along with the others, Sharon once again had eyes only for Steve. She watched him trying to encourage Jake to clap his hands, though the poor boy just stared at him looking a little shell-shocked.

Then Steve looked over his shoulder to smile at her, and her insides warmed as if she were basking in the full light of the noon-day sun. She beamed back at him. It didn't matter what had happened before. The night was over. The day had just begun.

Let your steadfast love comfort me
according to your promise to your servant.

- Psalm 119:76