Little Details

[Lucy Rogers]

[size=9]((Contains reference to adult situations.))[/size]
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There really wasn't much for Steve to unpack. It had only been an excuse to take his leave from Johnny and Liv and allow them a little time to digest what had happened and offer each other comfort. He knew only too well what it was like to lose someone you were trying to save, even if the person he'd lost had been his best friend, while Johnny had lost a complete stranger. It didn't really matter. Steve believed that all life was precious, even those of his foes. Though he was a trained soldier, he didn't like killing and avoided it whenever possible. Anyone could pull a trigger; that didn't make it right. He had collected his leather jacket before retreating to the guest room, and he tossed it over a chair, sinking down onto the bed with a heavy sigh. Though it wasn't very late, it had been a long day for all of them, most of all for him and Lucy, who'd had to travel through the portal to get there.

Lucy was only a minute or so behind him, already shedding the thick wool of her sweater as she passed through the door and closed it behind her, kicking her shoes off into a corner as the lock clicked in place. She smiled gently at the weary look on Steve's face, tossing her sweater over his jacket before dropping down onto the bed beside him. One hand rose to turn his face toward hers, gently nuzzling a soft kiss to his lips. "The worst is over," she told him quietly. "Johnny'll be fine, Liv will see to it. Are you?"

He turned his face toward hers, savoring the soft kiss that was offered, all the tension going out of him as they were at long last alone. "I'm okay," he replied, with a faint smile. "We're getting married in a few days. How can I be anything other than fine with that?" He brushed his fingers against her cheek in a gentle caress. He wasn't tired exactly, but what had happened had brought back some memories that for him were still fairly fresh. "You sure he's gonna be okay?" he asked, a little concerned about Johnny.

"I'm sure." She wasn't completely sure, but one thing Lucy did know was that if anyone could ease Johnny through this, it was her sister. She shifted, toeing her socks off and flicking them randomly away, kneeling up onto the bed beside Steve to curl her arms around his shoulders. "I don't think he's ever really come face to face with death before, that's all. It'll take a while for him to find his way of coping with it." Gentle fingers stroked into his hair as she spoke, as though she was comforting him for the unshared memories that were tugging at his heart.

"It's different when you think you could have saved someone. When you've come so close, but not close enough," he remarked, speaking more from his own experience than anything else. Johnny seemed young, so much younger than himself, though in truth, Steve was the younger of the pair, if you just counted actual years lived and not wasted in a deep freeze. He had a feeling he'd seen a lot more of death in his twenty-three years than Johnny ever had, having lived through the Second Great War, the war to end all wars. Or at least, that's what it was supposed to be. He turned to her, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her down onto the bed beside him, content for the moment just to be close.

"I know." Lucy let him draw her down with him, nestling into his side under the increasingly confident guidance of his arm about her waist. She hugged in close, returning in her own mind to the first time she had ever lost someone under her care, the first time she had come up against the inevitability of life and death. "Sometimes, no matter what you do, how hard you try ... it just isn't enough."

He settled himself against the bed, turning his head to face her, remembering that though their chosen careers were very different, they had both dedicated their lives to saving people and making the world a better place. Another thought came to mind as he laid there, a thought that had been poking at his mind ever since they'd arrived and he'd met the overly exuberant Johnny Storm, something that perhaps Lucy hadn't picked up on yet. "Have you ever considered that maybe he has come face to face with death and that's why he acts the way he does? That he just wants to live life to the fullest and the hell with what everyone else thinks of him?" He brushed some hair away from her face, large fingers gently grazing her cheek.

Lucy gave this due consideration, trying not to be too distracted by the large, gentle hand teasing at her cheek. It was a bit of a struggle; she and Steve hadn't yet been together long enough that an innocent touch wasn't going to start something of a chain reaction, but she was at least trying not to distract him in turn. For now, anyway. "Maybe," she conceded softly, "but that would just make me worry in a different way. If he has come up against death before, then he hasn't accepted it as a part of life. He's still taking it personally, Steve, and that could kill him from the inside out, no matter what face he presents to the rest of us." She sighed softly, looking up into his eyes in concern. "He's family now. I don't want to lose him anymore than I want Liv to lose him, even to the demons in his own mind."

"I don't think that will happen," he assured her softly, letting his fingers trail through her hair before settling against her cheek. "I think today was a lesson. A hard lesson, but maybe one that was necessary. There's a price to pay for what we do. You can't save everyone, and you can't let it eat you up inside either. If you do, then you'll start second guessing yourself all the time, and once you do that, you're no good to anyone." He broke off with a small frown as he met her gaze. "Am I making any sense?" he asked, unsure if was conveying his thoughts correctly.

She smiled softly, lifting herself from where she lay at his side to lean over him, drawing her own fingers through his hair fondly once again. "It wouldn't matter if you weren't making sense," she reminded him gently. "I know what you mean, baby. I've worked hand in hand with death for years; I think I have a kinder opinion of it than perhaps you and Johnny do. For you, death is the enemy. For me?" She shrugged, uncertain if he would understand what she was about to say. "For me, death is the friend who stands by and, when I can't do anything more and the time has run out, takes away the pain and suffering. I don't fight death anymore. If I did, I would cause more pain than I heal."

[Lucy Rogers]

He shifted his head to follow her as she moved to lean over him, his eyes never leaving hers. He reached over to trail his fingers through the soft fall of brown hair that drifted over one shoulder, her words helping him to gain some further insight into what made her tick. "That doesn't make it any easier. You're a healer. It's your job to help people get well, but when you can't, then at least, maybe you can relieve their suffering. It's different for me. I've seen too much death. Too much suffering. I'm just trying to save as many as I can from dying. I think Johnny is, too. It's the same, but different." He was actually in agreement with her on that. Though they both faced death, they faced it in different ways. "It's funny, you know... I've lost everyone I ever cared about, and there was nothing I could have done to save them. It's just the way life is, I guess."

Her smile turned sad as he spoke, understanding a little of what he meant, though she would never turn around and say she understood entirely. "There'd be no point to living if we didn't have to die," she said very gently, drawing her fingertip down along his jaw in a slow caress. "Without the certain knowledge that one day it will all end, where is the incentive to do anything with our lives?"

"I've thought about that," he continued, cracking open just that little bit more, allowing her into his deepest kept thoughts and secrets. "What if the serum keeps me young? What if I don't age? I don't wanna live forever, Luce. Not while everyone I love grows old." In a way, he'd done that once already and didn't really want to live through that again. He didn't want to be a science experiment anymore, but he needed to know exactly what had happened to him, what the serum had done. He wondered if she could help him find that out.

She frowned, not liking that thought at all. The thought of living out her life with him only to leave him all alone was a horrifying one. "You don't know?" she asked softly, startled to discover this. "I thought you'd know all the side effects." There was a moment of ethical horror as she realised exactly what had been done. "They injected you with something without knowing exactly what it would do to you? What the hell gave them the right to do that, to take that risk with your life?"

Steve shrugged his shoulders, not really surprised at her reaction, which was one of the reasons he hadn't brought it up until now, but now that they were to be married, there could be no secrets between them, no matter how big or small. "I knew the risks when I volunteered. I was a science experiment, Luce. The... what do they call it? Prototype? They needed someone to test the formula, and they chose me. Dr. Erskine thought he knew most of the side effects, but nothing is certain. He was killed before he could finish his studies, and all his research was lost. I'm all that's left."

"And no one thought to study your blood, or do anything toward finding out what the potential side effects were?" she asked, still fuming with the so-called professionals who had failed him so dramatically. Sighing roughly, she twisted, dropping down onto her back at his side as she frowned up at the ceiling. "It's a horrible thought, Steve, that you might not have a natural aging process. I couldn't bear living out my life with you and then having to leave you behind when I die." She drew her hands onto her stomach, drumming her fingers against the soft fabric of her t-shirt. "I ... Would you mind if I took a look at you sometime? We should find out, for your peace of mind."

"After Erskine died, there wasn't anyone around who knew what to look for," he explained. "And then..." He trailed off. And then it was too late. Another thought came to him, one that was even more disturbing. "You'd think S.H.I.E.L.D. would have run some tests while they were thawing me out," he mused aloud. It would be kind of nice to know if he was going to have to watch everyone else grow old around him while he stayed young, and there were others questions that had been left unanswered, too. Like the question of children. He turned to face her with a frown on his face. "I'm sorry. I should have mentioned all this sooner. I didn't think it would matter, but it does."

Her head turned, the frown on her face wiped clean by a gentler expression, touched more with concern for him than any anger or resentment for the delay in being told any of this. "It matters to you, and that makes it important," she told him softly, rolling onto her side once more, propping her head on her hand as she looked down at him. "Once I'm in S.H.I.E.L.D., I'll be able to pull medical records. If they did test you, the information should be in there."

And yet another thought came to mind, as all of this information seemed to weave itself together like an intricately woven web. "You realize Fury probably knew it was only a matter of time before I asked, and that it would be you I trusted to find out for me," he said, looking up at her from his back. How did the saying go? Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive. "I'm sorry, Luce. I should have told you sooner."

"I would rather be the one to find out for you, than trust it to someone we don't know if we can trust not to falsify the information or hold it back," she told him gently, shaking her head at his apology. "Don't be sorry, Steve. It isn't as though any of this is going to make me change my mind or my heart. And to be fair, you've been doing a good job of making sure the shocks are spaced out enough that I don't turn into a dribbling ninny." She smiled, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. "We'll find out the truth, baby. I promise."

He smiled back at her, a little relieved that she wasn't angry at him, even though she was angry at those who'd experimented on him without completely knowing the consequences of their actions. "I'd rather it was you, too. I trust you, Lucy. Fury keeps too many secrets." His smile warmed at the touch of her lips to the tip of his nose, his worries at least temporarily forgotten, feeling better for having been honest with her. He slid his fingers through her hair, drawing her down for a kiss, not nearly as awkward as his first kisses had been. He was definitely a quick learner.

Drawn down to him, Lucy let him kiss her as he chose to, encouraging the gentle sharing of affection with a contented sigh and the smooth caress of her hand from his cheek to his chest, her thumb absently picking at a button on his shirt. As the kiss ended, she drew back just a little, gazing into his eyes with loving sincerity. "I will never lie to you," she promised him quietly, the fervor in her voice fierce and low. "And I will never keep a secret from you without a damned good reason."

[Lucy Rogers]

"That goes double," he offered in agreement. "At least, not intentionally," he added with a smile, but the smile quickly faded as another thought came to mind. "What if I can't have kids?" he asked, unsure of that, too, realizing there was a lot they hadn't yet discussed in their haste to get married, but at the time, none of it had seemed to matter, and he wasn't sure if it did now either. He loved her more than anything or anyone, and that was all that mattered.

Oddly, that was not such a bone of contention to Lucy. Her smile didn't fade, softening still as she held his gaze, still tenderly stroking that single fingertip up and down his cheek. "So what if we can't?" she shrugged lightly. "If that's so, there are plenty of kids who don't have a family we could adopt." She touched a gentle kiss to his lips, wanting to reassure him. "But if we can, I fully intend to have at least one of your children, Steven Rogers. At least one."

But even that reassurance didn't make him smile, not quite yet. "What if they're sickly, like I was? I have no idea what the serum does to my..." No, he wasn't going to let the word "sperm" slip past his lips, even if she was a doctor. There were just certain words he still didn't feel comfortable saying. He was over-worrying, and he knew it, but he wanted to make sure Lucy knew what she was getting herself into with him.

She wasn't going to pander to his over-thinking, either. All she would say to him, when he worried about having sickly children, was, "Modern medicine is a wonderful thing." Her lips covered his, stilling his uncomfortable protests with a kiss that promised him there was no need to worry about any of this, not yet. "And I," she added in a low voice, her hand creeping down over his chest to draw a wicked caress over the fly of his pants, "am a very good doctor."

He drew a heavy sigh as he felt her hand wander lower, stirring the desire that was hovering just beneath the surface, just waiting for the right time and the right opportunity to make itself known. He relaxed finally beneath her touch and her kiss, all his worries going straight out of his head. "Mm," he murmured beneath her lips. "We could practice, if you want. I think I remember how it's done," he teased, his mouth curving into a small smile as he slid a hand beneath the hem of her shirt.

"You know what they say," came her answering murmur, her tone a sweet tease beneath her smile as those clever fingers flicked open the button at his waist. "Practise makes perfect." Her laugh was swallowed up in a warmer kiss, muted by the softness of a moan that rose from deep in her chest as his hand found her skin beneath the thin softness of her shirt. Every day, in every way, he's getting a lot bolder ...

He groaned beneath her kiss, as he felt her loosen the straining waistband of his pants, already stirring to arousal. It didn't take much, it seemed, little effort needed before he was aroused and ready for whatever she wanted. He reached around to her back, sliding both hands beneath her shirt to find her bra and undo the clasp, while his mouth plied her lips in a deepening kiss.

She gasped into his mouth, his eagerness to undress her surpassing hers to undress him for once as she felt her bra loosen under the determined twist of his fingers. Her shirt was bunched at his wrists, caught beneath the modest curve of her breasts, and for a moment, she considered helping him uncover her. But only for a moment. Her lips curved into a soft grin as he deepened their kisses, walking her fingers up over his chest, leaving in their wake undone buttons, until her palm curled to his jaw just in time to fill his mouth with the taste and sound of her low, tender moan. For a man who seemed so shy at times of even discussing this, he was getting very good at it very quickly.

He was getting better at it, gaining in confidence, quickly learning what she liked - thus far, there was very little she didn't like. But he never quite knew where things were going to go or what exactly she wanted, learning as he went along, improving by the day. He parted from her lips just long enough to draw the shirt up over her head, along with the bra, dropping his gaze to admire the treasure of her body that had been hiding beneath the thin cloth. He drew her closer, wanting to light the fire he knew was simmering slowly inside her. His hands slid over the perfect ivory smoothness of her skin as his lips brushed her flesh, slowly and tentatively at first, but gaining in confidence and fervor.

And somehow he had always known exactly where to touch her, where to let his lips roam, to ignite the simmering heat into something far more powerful than just a suggestion. Even as her hand slipped beneath his shirt, she felt his tentative exploration begin, and knew almost before he drew her closer to him that her time to tease him in return was increasingly finite. Again, she moaned for him, shivering in the wake of brushing kisses and smoothing hands, glorying in the heat that rose between them as his name passed her lips, touching against his ear on the moist warmth of her breath. "If I didn't know better," she teased in a softly breathless tone, her body shifting to slide one knee between his, fitting them closer together as her hand slipped to his hip, "I'd think you were planning something deliciously wicked, captain."

"That depends on what you mean by wicked, Doctor," he countered, holding back the groan the filled his throat when her knee slid between his, just short of further enticing his already straining arousal. He was partly aware of the fact that they weren't alone in the apartment and that if they weren't careful, everything they did could well come back to haunt them come morning, but even that didn't seem to bother him in the heat of the moment. His arms went back around her to pull her against him, arching his hips to press his pelvis against hers, aching with desire, though they weren't even half undressed yet. "I need you, Luce," he whispered in her hear, daring to gently tug with his teeth against her earlobe.

[Lucy Rogers]

"You're wearing too much," was her answer to his whisper, but though the words were pointed, the tone was anything but. She spoke to him with husky, breathless words that rippled with the same need he'd confessed to, the only real difference being her confidence that those others in the apartment were too caught up in each other to notice anything outside their own little world. She gasped again as he pulled her snug to him, the tight press of his body to hers sending a flickering lance of heat and pleasure through the gentle tremble of her spine as she moulded to him, soft to hard. Her hands slipped over him once again, pushing at his shirt, the t-shirt beneath, as eager now as she ever was to have him bared to her, to make him her playground, if he would let her.

Oh, he would definitely let her, but the feeling was mutual and he wanted to play with her as much as she wanted him. He helped her get his shirts off, both of them coming off quickly and a little clumsily in his hasty removal of clothing, but instead of finishing with his pants, he turned his attention instead to her jeans. He rolled her onto her back, straddling her body as his fingers worked the button and zipper open, but instead of tugging them away, he boldly slid a hand inside her jeans, feeling the warmth of her beneath his hand, even though there was still a layer of cloth between him and her flesh. He felt a swell of desire coiling inside him, like a snake ready to strike, and still he restrained himself to focus on her.

She rose and fell beneath him in a slow undulation that invited as much as teased, biting her lower lip with a breathlessly enticing smile as he pulled the denim that encased her open. But she hadn't expected what came next. As his hand slid inside her jeans, pressed snug to the flickering, tender throb of her desire, she felt the breath whoosh from her lung, her eyes opening wide to show him the sudden powerful flare of want that made itself known. Her body tensed eagerly, the sharp arch of her back became deeply pronounced ... her hand rose to curl to his cheek as her lips curved once again, inviting him without words to keep exploring.

Encouraged by both her reaction and her smile, explore he did, his hand further enticing that flare of desire, shifting his weight to settle himself beside her as fingers stroked the heat that lay beneath the thin lacey covering. He watched her face for a moment, studying her expression, eager to learn what made her sigh and moan, before leaning down to claim her lips, his kiss gentle at first, taking his time in slow exploration of her lips, even as his fingers stroked and teased her beneath her jeans.

Eager to please her and even more eager to explore the secrets that were only Lucy's to share, he deepened the kiss, parting her lips to taste all the sweetness her mouth had to offer, just as his fingers slipped beneath the lace covering in further exploration. Taking his cues from her every reaction, his fingers teased and tormented, finding the place that seemed to drive her most mad with desire, stroking and rubbing and nudging, groaning beneath her lips as his own body caught fire.

It took everything she had not to roll into him as he settled at her side, not to demand with hands and lips and hasty words that he stop teasing and get on with it. There was something almost magical about the way he touched her, teasing sense and sensation from a body she had thought could not react any more plainly than it had already. But when Steve's fingers slipped below the soft lace of her underwear, he was rewarded with a deep, tender moan that could have vibrated through the hallways, had he not caught it with his kiss and passed it back to her on his breath. She writhed in slow, wonderful torment, each sound she made ghosting into his mouth as he coaxed from her something wonderful in itself, something that trembled and shuddered and rose in throbbing, pulsing light to burst from her in an explosion that was for his eyes only. And even as she came down from that blinding pinnacle, softening the kisses shared to let herself breathe as she gasped in amazement, she smiled lazily, looping her arms about his neck to pull him close.

He felt her shudder beneath him, muffling her moans that were breathed against his lips, and he knew he had succeeded in sending her over the edge, but what now? Though painfully aware of his own arousal, he made no demands, wondering if he should continue or let her rest. Should he take what he wanted or wait until it was offered? He hesitated, uncertain, his kiss gentling against her lips, even as his body burned with desire. He kissed her again, softly, slowly, his fingers lingering where they were, unmoving now that she'd crested without him. After a moment, he drew back, looking down at her with a question in his eyes, the boldness fleeing, uncertain what do do next, though he knew what he wanted.

Dark eyes fluttered open to meet his uncertain gaze with encouraging confidence. Her hand gently slid down along his arm, extracting his from the heat where it lay nestled and drawing it up. Still holding his gaze, she wrapped her lips around his fingers slowly, one at a time, and, in a flurry of movement, suddenly she was on top of him, knocking him onto his back, leaning down to tease his lips with hers as she rolled her body over his with lovingly wicked intent. "You're still wearing too much," she murmured impishly, catching his lower lip between her teeth and tugging gently.

He would have replied, but she was too fast. He made no resistance as she rolled him onto his back, looking up at her with eyes that were bright with adoration and smoldering with desire. His lips gave way beneath hers, and his breath caught in his throat as she caught and tugged at his lower lip. "Lucy..." he breathed, his eyes moving over her, desire rising just looking at her, more scrumptious than the sweetest candy. His hands moved to his pants to finish what she'd started, in a hurry to put out the fire that had flared hotly with nearly unbearable heat and need.

Her pants had to come off too, her body falling to his side in a peal of exhilarated giggles as she wriggled about, sliding denim and lace down her legs to kick off in some random direction before her hands joined his, as eager as he to have him bare to her touch, her heat. As she threw the last of his clothing over her shoulder, her other hand curved to the back of his neck, drawing him up into a languid kiss as much to distract as to tease while that burning, longing heat settled over him once more, no longer hidden away beneath layers of restrictive cloth.

[Lucy Rogers]

He was more than eager to meet her kiss, his body obviously ready for whatever she wanted from him. One strong arm curled about her waist to draw her close while the other reached between them to part her legs, hips arching to reach her, to come together as one and smother the flames of their mutual desire.

He was learning Lucy in all her myriad forms, and this was a definite mark in the "Got It" column. Shyness and tentative hands were all very well, but Steve was a man. He was her man, and now he knew to touch her like he meant it. She moaned with tender eagerness as he drew her to himself, as he parted her legs, and her own hand slid down his chest to join his, easing the way until, with a sharp jerk of her hips, she felt him pierce her deep, finally given what he was aching for in the loving shudder of her body around his.

He groaned with delighted satisfaction as he was sheathed inside her loving depths. It was the most exquisite feeling to feel himself inside her, to connected to her as one body, one heart, one mind wanting and needing the same thing. He forgot that they weren't alone, that there was another couple in the apartment who might overhear them, so entranced and wrapped up in their love that he didn't seem to care. He circled her in his loving embrace, strong arms going around her to hold her close as they moved together in the dance of love, giving as much as taking. He rolled her onto her back to drive himself deeper, faster, allowing her to roll him back again as they moved against and with each other in a frenzy of hungered passion.

There was no up or down, no top or bottom, no sense of rising or falling. There was just him, glorious him, in her arms, on her lips, wrapped around her and over her, under her and in her, surrounding and smothering each of her senses until she was awash with nothing that could not be encompassed with a single word. Steve. And that word was on her lips as she kissed and caressed and rocked and writhed, utterly uncaring that they were probably more than audible to the others in the apartment, only that he was there and with her and in just a few days there would be no power on Rhy'Din, Earth, or any other planet you cared to name that could take him away from her.

When he finally crested, it was with such force and intensity that he had to smother the groan that was building in his throat with a kiss to her lips, else there would be no end to the teasing come morning. He clung to her, holding her against him, as he shuddered with pleasure, his seed filling her with renewed warmth. Slowly, the tension eased off and he relaxed, his breathing becoming regular, soft and even, all the tension going out of him. Sighing softly, he kissed her lips again, tender and warm with affection, full of that same wonder that always seemed to follow their coupling. He doubted he'd ever grow tired of it or of her, and hoped she felt the same.

No matter how they came together, it was always together every step of the way. Nestled in his arms as the wave ebbed away from them, Lucy murmured tender words that almost had coherency beneath his lips, her hands smoothing down over his back, easing the last of the tension from him even as her own body settled into boneless bliss. The kiss ended, but the loving affection never would, renewed with a look and a smile as she breathed him in. "I love you," she murmured to him, soft and small in his arms as she cuddled close. "My perfect, wonderful man."

He wondered not for the first time if she'd have felt the same about him before he'd volunteered to take the serum, though it hardly mattered. Somewhere inside, he was the same guy he'd always been; everything that made him who he was had just been enhanced and improved on. He was and always would be Steve Rogers, just a new and improved Steve Rogers. He smiled up at her as he dragged his fingers through her hair, heart touched by her simple declaration of love, blushing just a little at the compliment. "You're the one that's wonderful, Luce," he told her softly, content now just to hold her close.

She laughed softly, kicking at the covers until she could catch a corner in one hand and draw the cool sheets over them both, resuming her comfortable nestle against him with ease as her head tipped back to look into his eyes. "Oh, I know," she agreed with mischievous pleasure. No one had ever been able to accuse her of false modesty, after all. "I just lucked out when I fell in love with the little guy." Her fingers teased gently down from his jaw to rest over his heart, dark eyes just a little watchful, hoping he understood what she was telling him. It wasn't Captain America she'd fallen in love with; it was Steve Rogers. And some part of her was pretty sure she would have fallen just as hard if she'd met him before he'd ever even heard of Dr. Erskine.

He arched a brow at her statement, misunderstanding her at first before realization settled in. "You read the comics." It was the only way she could have known what Dr. Erskine had told him before he'd become the subject of his experiment. He'd read the comic himself before scrawling his signature on the front. It was mostly accurate, even if it did equate to the Readers' Digest version of his life story. "I doubt you'd have noticed the little guy. I was pretty invisible then."

She smiled gently, lifting her head to find his gaze with her own once again as her palm laid flat over the beat of his heart. "I would have considered you a challenge," she told him quietly. "But I would have noticed you. I've never been the type to go for the obvious when there's someone more interesting hiding behind him." She touched her lips lovingly to his chin, smoothing her arm about his waist. "Besides, you're still the little guy. He's just wrapped up in a little bit extra, that's all."

He doubted she'd have noticed him, no matter what she told him, but it was mostly a moot point anyway. "I think the little guy is actually wrapped up in you right now," he remarked, with a tiny smirk. Either Lucy was rubbing off on him, or he was feeling comfortable enough with her to let her see his sense of humor, however deeply buried it might be.

[Lucy Rogers]

She laughed, easily drawn in by the sweet sense of humor he usually kept so very well hidden. Rising over him, she drew her fingers through his hair for a moment, reaching across to turn out the light and plunge the room into gentle semi-darkness. "Well, I hope the little guy doesn't mind, but I fully intend to make the most of having him in me and all around me," she murmured, nipping teasingly at the end of his nose. "Because after tonight, lover, no more playing until the wedding night." Because, oddly, Lucy was a bit of a traditionalist. The wedding night was a special night, and she intended to make sure it stayed that way, even if it meant a little self-deprivation to make certain.

He arched a brow up at her in the semi-darkness. "Should I go sleep on the couch?" he asked, wondering how they were suppposed to resist each other if they were sleeping in the same bed, dressing and undressing in the same room, using the same shower. They were bound to be tempted to break that tradition, if they kept on playing house the way they were. "You're not gonna make me bunk with Johnny, are you? He's a nice guy, but he never shuts up."

Laughing again, Lucy wrapped herself around him once more in the dim light, nuzzling the tip of her nose to his. "Well, Liv and I could always take over the lounge and couch, and leave you boys to your private rooms," she offered impishly. She knew what Johnny was like, and frankly, hadn't even considered making Steve bunk with him. The thought, however, was just funny enough to make her giggle a little louder. "Definitely separate rooms, though," she admitted, drawing her hand fondly over his side. "I'm far too weak-willed not to take full advantage when you're right here. But not until tomorrow night."

He pouted up at her, looking all of his twenty-three years, but didn't argue. It was such a small thing to ask, and it was only one or two nights. Once they were married, they'd belong to each other for the rest of their lives. "It's okay. I can sleep anywhere. The couch will be fine." As chivalrous as a knight in shining armor, he wasn't going to put her or her sister out when he could make do on the couch. He wondered if they should make up for lost time, but that thought seemed to defeat the purpose.

She smiled, kissing his pout lovingly. "It's only a couple of nights," she reassured him, as though reading his thoughts. "Besides, you'll be able to hear all the giggling when I start complaining about not being able to sleep without you." Nestling in close, she laid her head against his shoulder, not quite able to wipe the smile from her lips.

One or two nights ... and the day after, if Fury had pulled all the right strings in time, they'd be married. After that, if she had her way and excluding heroic endeavors, they'd never spend another night apart.

[size=9]((Ain't they sweet? And kinda naughty, too, given how very strait-laced Captain Steve is. :lol: Keep your eyes peeled for the next part! And, naturally, hugimongously magniflorious thank yous to Steve's player!))[/size]