Door stoppingly had not been quite what Lianne had been aiming for, but the praise from her Papa was more than enough to sweep away any sense of frustration with her language skills as she was drawn close with her brother, her hand automatically wriggling into Martin's grip. "What promise, Papa?"

"I want you both to promise me you'll be good for Aunt Tasha and do everything she asks you to do. And don't forget to feed Thor and Cheri and wash your hands and face and brush your teeth before you go to bed. Can you do that for me?" he asked, looking from one to the other with a solemn expression on his face.

Willing to do anything for her Papa, Lianne was quick to nod her agreement, though it was unlikely she would ever do anything against Aunt Tasha's wishes. She'd been with Uncle Johnny when they had first been rescued, and both Lianne and Martin had seen how ruthless she could be firsthand. She was always kind to them, but they did know what she was capable of.

It was hardly likely either Martin or Lianne ever needed to worry about Natasha disciplining them too harshly, though Steve didn't want them to think she was a pushover, either. He knew Natasha better than most anyone and knew his children would be safe with her.

Martin, too, solemnly nodded his head. "Oui, Papa. We will be good. Promise."

Steve smiled and pulled them both into his arms for a hug, one in each arm. "I know you will," he told them both, kissing each one on the cheek, first Lianne and then Martin.

As he hugged his children to him, the woman in question leaned around the doorway, a familiar brow arched above a familiar smirk of a smile. "Extracting promises, old man?" Natasha queried, her smile deepening as Lianne dropped Steve right in it.

"Oui, we promise to be good for you, mademoiselle!"

Martin didn't mind the hug or the kiss, but as soon as Natasha peeked her head in the room, he was wriggling out of his father's arms and offering a solemn salute.

"Maybe it's you I should be extracting promises from," Steve teased back, a grin on his face as he snapped a salute back at his young son.

"I can cook!" she protested, shrugging one shoulder as she added in a wry drawl, "With a phone."

Lianne giggled her quiet giggle, mimicking Martin's salute as she bounced on her toes. "Can we see Mama now, Aunt Tasha?" she demanded hopefully, and Natasha nodded.

"Just as soon as she gets down the stairs without falling over, little bird."

"It's a good thing there are a lot of pizzerias around that deliver," Steve teased, as he rose to his full height. He felt strangely nervous, like a high school boy on his very first date, though he and Lucy had been married for a few years already. Maybe it was the fact that dancing wasn't his strong suit, or maybe it was just the excitement of seeing Lucy all dolled up for a change. Whatever it was, he was doing a pretty good job of hiding it.

"We can do better than pizza," Natasha objected, flashing a grin toward serious young Martin. She knew exactly where they were ordering dinner from, and she was looking forward to going through the menu with the young pair. Glancing back over her shoulder, she grinned. "Okay, old man, try not to faint."

As Natasha stepped out of the way, Lucy came into view, looking as nervous as Steve felt. A modest blue tea dress, flared with a petticoat of aubergine; heeled shoes to match the 1940's theme; her hair caught into a loose chignon ....she wouldn't have looked out of place on the dancefloors of Steve's youth. Looking at the three of them, she held out her hands, twirling for them. "So' What's the verdict?"

Natasha was one of the only people who could call him "Old Man" and get away with it, considering he was only in his late twenties, unless you counted all the years he'd spent frozen in the Arctic. Steve's mouth dropped open as Lucy came into view. Was that really his Lucy wearing that dress" He'd always known she was beautiful, but he hadn't seen her make such an effort at it since the day or the wedding. "Lucy, you're ....beautiful," he said, reaching for her hands, clearly at a loss for words, his heart beating fast, like it had when he'd first fallen in love with her.

Lucy barely heard Natasha murmuring to the children, "Mission accomplished," as Steve's mouth fell open, or the quiet laughter that followed it. Her hands slid into his, needing the reassurance of his touch even as he offered her his compliment on her appearance. "You look very handsome, Captain," she smiled up at him, rising higher onto her toes to brush a soft kiss to his cheek.

Nearby, Martin and Lianne were giggling into their hands, but Steve and Lucy seemed not to notice, too enthralled with each other, like young lovers on their first date. "It's a little old fashioned," he replied, wondering if it was time for something more modern, though old-fashioned was kind of the point of a tea dance.

"Well, I can't take you on a modern date until you've taken me on an old-fashioned one, remember?" Lucy teased him gently. "You look wonderful, Steve. I'm really rather excited about this evening." And despite the fact that Natasha seemed to have arranged it all, Lucy was giving the credit to Steve for now. No doubt the women would share the details at a later date.

"I'm not sure we've ever been on a proper date," he mused aloud, or at least, he couldn't recall it. They'd certainly gone out to eat on occasion, but they'd never gone on such a formal date as this. "You'll have to be patient with me. I think I've forgotten my dance lessons."

"I've never danced like this," she reminded him with a quiet laugh, squeezing his hands gently. "We can bumble around together, love." With a last kiss to his cheek, she turned to their giggling audience, raising her brow at the children. "Well?" she asked with a smile. "Will I do, or am I going to be an embarrassing disgrace as soon as I step outside?"

"No, Mama," Martin was quick to point out. "Tu es tres belle," he repeated the compliment Lianne had given their father just a short time ago, using the proper form of the word this time.

"Ah, merci, ma petit," Lucy smiled, bending to hug her little man and brush a kiss to his hair. She loved all her children, but Martin held a very special place in her heart. She'd become his confidante, with what she thought was very little effort, and she did her best to make sure he felt involved and loved. Her eyes turned to Lianne, who was leaning against Natasha's leg, watching her mother with wide eyes.

"You look like princess, Mama," the little girl offered with a shy smile, pattering close to join in the hug being shared by her mother and brother.

Natasha smirked, looking over at Steve. "You should take her out more often," she recommended to her friend in her familiar drawl. "And take pictures of your face the first time you see her in an L.B.D."

"I'm sorry you never got to meet her, Luce," he said, as he weaved his way through traffic. Thankfully, it wasn't rush hour. He'd thought about the possibility about of traveling through time via the portals, but had deemed it too dangerous. It wasn't something he ever put in his reports to S.H.I.E.L.D. There was no telling what they might do with that kind of information.

"I did, in a way," she mused thoughtfully. "I grew up with her, and now we get to see her handling four children - five, if you count Johnny - and a dog, on a regular basis!" She chuckled warmly. Liv's transformation from shy P.A. to successful wife and mother was a source of constant amazement to her twin.

"She doesn't give herself enough credit. Neither of them do. They've got us beat by one kid, but I'm not so sure I'm ready for a teenager yet!" he said with a chuckle, his mood lightening. "No more worries. We're supposed to be enjoying ourselves," he said, more for his own sake than hers, probably.

"Who said I'm worrying?" Lucy countered with a low laugh, reaching over to gently stroke her fingers against his neck. It had been a long time since they'd been alone together without having a purpose beyond simply enjoying each other's company. "I don't say this enough, but I do love you, Steven Rogers. More today than on the day we were married, if that makes any sense."

"I love you, too, Luce," he told her, glancing her way briefly, a soft smile on his face before turning his attention back to the road. "I just can't get over how amazing you look in that dress!" he added with another chuckle.

Despite Brooklyn traffic, the pair did eventually make it to the dance, which was being held in an old restored Victorian mansion, which served as a tea house and bed and breakfast and which sometimes hosted weddings and other social events, like the one they were hosting tonight.

Christmas decorations still festooned the outside, welcoming the couples who were still making their way inside to where the band was playing. Shy and nervous, Lucy fidgeted with her dress as she took Steve's arm, biting her lip as she looked up at him. "I don't look too awfully out of place, do I?"

"No more than I do," he said, though he was really the one who looked out of place in his old S.S.R. uniform. "Just trust me, okay?" he whispered, tipping his head close. A few heads turned as the couple made their way inside. It was hard to miss a man in uniform or the beauty on his arm.

"I jumped out of a plane in the Arctic for you, I can do this," she murmured back to him with a quiet giggle, thankfully oblivious to the heads that turned their way. She didn't like it when people stared, but she had grown into the habit of ignoring the obvious ones.

"You didn't do it for me. You did it for the kids," he reminded her, even if she hadn't known it at the time. She'd done it because it had been the right thing to do, and though he had worried for her safety, he was glad she'd come along. He handed their tickets in at the door with a word of thanks and followed the crowd toward the coat room, frowning a little at the looks they were getting. "Maybe I should have worn a suit," he murmured quietly.

"You're not the only man in uniform," she pointed out softly, nodding toward a couple of men who were obviously in a form of costume for the evening. "You just happen to be the most delicious looking man in the place, uniform or no uniform." She flashed him a grin, undoing the buttons of her coat to check it in.

"Or the oldest," he remarked, though he hardly looked out of his twenties yet. He let go of her arm so that he could help her with her coat, sliding it off her shoulders and handing it over to check it in for the evening. When he turned back to retake her arm, he had to pause to make sure it was really his Lucy he was looking at, as she was simply stunning. "I still can't believe it's you. I mean ....I know it is, I just ..." He sighed, worried he'd just put his foot in his mouth. Well, he'd never been very good with compliments.

Despite her discomfort with compliments, there really was something beautifully charming about the way Steve could fall over his own tongue when she looked like his bride. Laughing softly, she drew him back into the foyer, rising onto her toes to kiss the corner of his mouth tenderly. "Maybe I should exhume some of my sexy lingerie," she teased him, lips brushing his ear for a moment. "Then you'd really have something to stutter over."

"I just can't figure out how I got so damned lucky," he told her, settling his hands against the waist she usually kept hidden beneath more practical layers of clothing. Okay, so he did swear now and then, but only mildly and only when it was called for, and never in front of the kids. He smiled at the kiss, happy to take as many of those as she'd give him.

"Well ..." She pretended to consider his luck for a moment, though she was purely enjoying the warmth of his hands at her waist, something she didn't often feel through her more practical everyday wear. "I did drive you off the road," she pointed out. "And I deflowered you the same night. Was that luck, do you think?"

"Luck or fate, I'm not sure which, but I'm sure as hell not complaining," he added, chuckling, clearly starting to relax a little. "Do you think anyone would mind if I kissed you right now?" he asked, as if he needed permission.

"I am your wife," Lucy teased him affectionately. "And I am, naturally, so demanding that I absolutely insist that you kiss me right now, regardless of what anyone thinks." She chuckled, curling her own arms about his waist as she leaned into him, puckering her lips into the least attractive fish-face she could manage.

Even making that silly fish-face, she was easily the most stunning woman at the dance. "I am so gonna owe Natasha for this later," he murmured, as his arms slid around her waist and he pulled her closer, dipping his head to press his lips to hers. There was heat in that kiss, despite his attempt to keep it as chaste as possible - they were in public, after all.

Drawn close, he gave her no chance to answer his comment, his lips finding hers in a kiss that made her smile at his rising confidence. Chaste it might have been, but there was heat there, and possession - Steve might not have realized it, but he was marking her as belonging to him for the notice of everyone in the place. Drawing back, she brushed the tip of her nose to his tenderly. "If I didn't think Natasha might hunt me down and torture me for it, I might suggest we bypass the dance and find a hotel for a few hours," she teased him softly.

"That would kind of defeat the purpose of coming to the dance," he said, chuckling a little at her suggestion, though it was a tempting one. "No one said how long we have to stay," he added, an almost mischievous smile on his face. He was a virgin no longer, but a man who had learned how to take advantage of every minute he had alone with his wife.

"Mmm, I like the way you think," she laughed back to him, brushing a softer kiss to his lips. "Come on, captain. We should take a turn around the dancefloor, at least." Easing back from the circle of his arms, she curled her hands to his elbow, leaning into him. "I want to show you off a little before you pin me to a wall and rip my knickers off."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her suggestion, but knew her well enough by now not to get too embarrassed by her remark, so long as he was the only one who'd heard it. "I think I can manage without ripping them, dear," he teased back as he led her toward the main room.

"Where's the fun in that?" she grinned wickedly, knowing full well she was going to have to temper her comments for a while or risk making him very uncomfortable indeed. Squeezing his arm, she gasped softly as they entered the main room, charmed by the decoration that surrounded them. From the tall Christmas tree lit up with white lights and multicolored baubles, to the evergreens at every window and mantel, to the tables laid with sparkling centerpieces, the mansion's main room was timeless - a perfect backdrop for the people milling about, looking as though they had just stepped out of a 1940's illustration. "Oh my goodness ....isn't it beautiful?"

He knew enough about the basics of dancing to be able to fake his way through, and he was a quick learner. He held her close, one arm around her waist, the other clasping her hand, while she laid her head against his shoulder and he moved her slowly about the dance floor. There was something strangely intimate about being so close while soft music played and a crowd of people swayed around them and Steve knew he didn't want to be anywhere else but here with her, lost in the moment.

They had come a long way from the opposites who had taken a chance on one another within hours of their first meeting. From strangers to lovers in a single night; from lovers to partners within a month; the best of friends in the warmth of love, and parents to three very special little people. But at the heart of it all, they were still Steve and Lucy; still the disparate souls who had needed that moment of connection, and now could not live without one another. Raising her head, Lucy smiled up at her husband, brushing a soft kiss to his jaw. "I love you, Steve."

He smiled again, blue eyes soft with affection. She really didn't have to tell him - he could tell by the way she looked at him, by the way she kissed him and spoke to him and laid her head against his shoulder. Everything she did and everything she said spoke volumes of her love for him, and even if he wasn't sure she'd have liked him before the transformation, he had no doubts about her feelings for him now. "I know," he replied quietly, touching his forehead to hers. "I love you, too." Words seemed inadequate, but he was no poet, and it was the best he could do.

It would be hours yet before the clock struck midnight and the new year began, and yet Lucy was anxious to be alone with her husband. She didn't need the dance or the elaborate decorations, the crush of strangers in a ballroom. All she needed to celebrate was him, and though it might seem ungrateful to the friend who had made all the arrangements, that friend had also provided a place for such privacy. As the song wound to a close, Lucy sighed softly, drawing her fingertips through the soft hair at Steve's nape. "It's been a long time since we only had ourselves to worry about."

"No regrets?" he asked, misunderstanding her a little. He knew she adored their children as much as he did, but it left them very little time for each other, very little time to just be a couple. "Maybe we should do this more often," he suggested, touching a soft but chaste kiss to her lips. If they were going to get intimate with one another, it wasn't likely to be in a crowd of strangers in the middle of a dance floor.

She shook her head, her smile softening as he kissed her. "No regrets," she promised him, her lips moving beneath his as they lingered together in the midst of the other dancing couples. "But I think I want you all to myself a little more often. It's been ages since I made you blush just by taking off my bra."

She'd made him blush just by mentioning her "knickers" a short while ago, but he didn't bother to mention it. "What are you suggesting, Mrs. Rogers?" he asked, as he swayed with her back and forth, just so they weren't kicked off the dance floor for standing still.

"I'm suggesting that maybe Natasha would be up for spending the night with the children, so long as we promise to get back at a decent time in the morning," she laughed softly. "I could call her, perhaps, and find out. What do you think, captain?"

It seemed from the smile on his face that he liked that idea. "I think my wife is a genius, but then I knew that already," he told her, touching his nose to hers affectionately. Their love life was certainly not lacking, but he couldn't remember the last time they had an evening alone without having to worry about any interruptions.

Grinning, she reached into his pocket for her phone, having come out without a clutch or purse for once, quite prepared to make that call right there in the middle of the dancefloor. A slightly affronted glance from one of the organizers made her laugh. "I should probably take this out into the foyer."

"I'll wait by the punch bowl," he suggested, thinking he might check out the buffet table while she was on the phone with Natasha. He'd have called her himself, but he figured Lucy would be able to convince her far better than he would, seeing as they were both female.

"I won't be long," she promised, touching a kiss to his cheek before slipping away to use her phone in relative privacy. But as it turned out, she didn't have to call Natasha - there was a text message waiting for her. Ticket includes bed and breakfast; text me if you're staying all night. Laughing, Lucy rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she answered that text with her own. I will find a way to repay you. We'll stay - be back around 11 am. That done, she moved to the reception desk to make an inquiry or two of her own.

While Lucy was busy calling Natasha, Steve was checking out the buffet table and all the various food stuffs arrayed there. He plucked up a bit of this and that to give it a try, liking just about everything he tasted. One of the side effects of the super soldier serum was a healthy appetite, but no matter how much he ate, he always seemed to burn the calories off quickly, whether he was aware of it or not.

"Captain Rogers, sir?" The voice was familiar, belonging to someone Steve had only really seen at S.H.I.E.L.D. H.Q...Agent Croft, first name Robin, was standing at the buffet beside him, one hand balancing two plates of food and the other holding two glasses of champagne. He was dressed in a vintage Airforce uniform, and looked absolutely delighted to see his hero out and about without any connection to work at all.

Steve turned at the sound of his name, almost out of habit, wondering who it was that had recognized him. He certainly stood out in a crowd, but without the star-spangled suit, he didn't think it was so obvious who he was. It didn't take but a moment to recognize the voice and the face though. "Croft?" he ventured with a friendly smile. "What are you doing here, spying on us?" he asked, with a chuckle. "I thought you'd given up on that ages ago," he teased the man, noticing the uniform, as well as the two plates and two glasses - he was obviously not alone. He purposely didn't address him as Agent, but recognized the insignia that declared him a lieutenant.

Croft chuckled a little awkwardly. He'd been the one assigned to keeping an eye on Lucy when she had simply been Doctor Broderick, new recruit, and had inadvertently ended up between Director Fury and Lucy several times during the first months of her employment. Thankfully, he'd been reassigned, but he was still a familiar sight at the headquarters. "I had no idea you'd be here, sir," he assured Steve cheerfully. "Was expecting Romanoff - she's the one who was asking all the questions about what people were doing for New Years."

"Was she?" Steve said, considering. "It seems Miss Romanoff had us both duped. She sprang tickets on Lucy and me a few hours ago, calling it a long over-due wedding present."

Croft laughed, pausing a moment to look over his shoulder and reassure his wife that he was going to come back with her food and drink as soon as he'd finished socializing. "She's full of surprises, I'll give her that," he nodded. "Where is your wife, may I ask?"

"She's right behind you, Robin," Lucy informed him, grinning when he jumped. She rounded their colleague to tuck herself close against Steve's side.

"We're trying to keep a low profile," Steve said, a mild warning for Croft, though he doubted the man would give them away. He smiled as Lucy tucked herself against his side, an arm going around her. "Speak of the devil," he said with a laugh.

"Oh, your secret is safe with me, sir," Croft nodded to them, gesturing with his loaded hands. "I should get back to my wife. In case I don't catch you later, Happy New Year."

Smiling, Lucy chuckled, nodding to the man. "Happy New Year to you, too."

"Do you know another Steve and Lucy?" he asked, with a small, teasing smirk on his face as he set his glass on the table and moved to his feet, reaching for her hand. "May I have this dance, Mrs. Rogers?" he asked, assuming she wouldn't say no. The melody was a sweet one, soft and slow, easy to dance to, with little chance of him stomping on her feet.

Touched by the sweet gesture she hadn't even suspected him of making, Lucy let her hand slip into his as he drew her up onto her feet. "I'd love to, Captain Rogers." Smiling, she swayed into his arms, far closer than would have been exactly polite in the 40's. But she didn't need to be polite, not with Steve.

Some women might have been put off by Steve's preference for old fashioned and outdated culture. He was a man from another era, outdated before he was old, and why shouldn't he have a certain nostalgic preference for the past' It was all part of who he'd been and who he'd become. The song was an old one, corny even, but as far as Steve was concerned, the lyrics put into words everything he was feeling but was too shy to say.

"Why do robins sing in December, long before the springtime is due" And even though it's snowing, violets are growing. I know why and so do you ..."

And he had married a woman who knew what he was trying to say even before he started to stutter. Lucy didn't need to be told to understand that the song was telling her perfectly what Steve did not think he could put into words. She swayed with him, her eyes soft with tender adoration as she held his gaze, slowly leaning closer until her temple touched his jaw. Her eyes closed, breathing him in as they danced, and again, they could have been the only ones there. I know why, and so do you ...

Nothing else needed to be said. Steve let the song do the talking for him, letting Lucy know just how he felt when he held her in his arms. It didn't matter if the words were corny or if people were staring. The song was his way of telling Lucy that he loved her - that he was still in love with her, just like the first day they'd met. What was it he'd told Peggy all those years ago' That he was waiting for the right dance partner to come along. There'd been a time when he'd thought that partner was Peggy, but he'd been wrong. All along, it was Lucy he'd been waiting for, and truth be told, if he had to do it all over again, he would, if only to find her and be with her again.

It was just as well her eyes were closed - people were watching them as the realization dawned that he was the Steve who had dedicated this song to her Lucy. As the soft strains drew to a close, Lucy lifted her head to smile up at her husband once again, only to blush as a quiet round of applause went up from those couples around them. Shy of the attention, she laughed, hiding her face against his jacket for a long moment.

When you dance with me, I'm in heaven when the music begins ... Truer words had never been said. Steve held Lucy close as they gently swayed together on the dance floor, until the music finally came to a close to the sound of quiet applause. He blushed, as shy of the attention as she was, laughing with her, though he had no place to hide. Thankfully, the crowd only seemed charmed by their display, as corny as it was. He dipped his head to whisper in her ear, wondering if she'd had enough of crowds and dance floors for one evening. "Care to slip away and continue this in private?"

Giggling softly, she hugged herself close to him as the crowd paired off to dance once again. "I'd love to," she whispered back to him lovingly. "That was beautiful, Steve. Thank you."

"I'm not much of a poet and I don't really sing, but I can't think of a better way to tell you how I feel," he explained, though it wasn't easy for him to even say that much. He wished he was better with words, more romantic, more eloquent, but alas, he was just a kid from Brooklyn. Maybe someday he'd paint her portrait - now, that was something he could do. "Come on. I want to celebrate the new year alone," he said, taking her hand to lead her off the dance floor, thankful that most of the crowd had turned their attention back to their significant others.

He didn't need to explain it to her, but her smile softened as he tried to, anyway. She was just as bad as him when it came to romantic words and gestures, but sometimes they surprised one another. Her hand in his, she let him lead her from the crowded dancefloor and out into the foyer, away from the curious who were just beginning to realize who it was in their midst. "Celebrating the new year alone sounds perfect," she told him, tucking her hand into his pocket to retrieve the key she'd put there earlier.

They'd done what they came here to do - they'd admired the lights and the ambiance; they'd danced together and enjoyed a little romance; they'd spent a little time with friends; and they'd enjoyed the food and the drink; but tonight wasn't really about any of that. It was about spending time alone together, rekindling the romance, and remembering why they'd fallen in love in the first place. Steve let her lead the way to their room, making a mental note to thank Natasha in the morning for this very special gift.

There was one more surprise waiting for them in their room - not champagne and strawberries, though that would have been a little more in keeping with the feel of the place. No, Natasha had obviously been very specific. There was a bottle of bourbon and two glasses, and a large pot of white chocolate popcorn waiting for them on the vanity, surrounded by red rose petals. Lucy laughed softly when she saw it, shaking her head. "She was very sure we'd stay, wasn't she?"

"She knows us too well," he replied as he closed the door behind them and locked it. There was no way anyone was going to interrupt them tonight, unless it was an emergency. He went over to the bottle, picking it up to take a closer look. It was the real thing, and not the cheap stuff, either. Natasha hadn't been afraid to spend a little money.

Sighing softly, Lucy smiled, moving over to the window. They were on the third floor, at the top of the house, with a perfect view over the beautifully lit gardens. The firework display would be gorgeous from here. With only the vanity lamp on, the room was gently lit, casting her half in shadow as she raised her hands to remove the pins from her hair. "This was a good idea," she admitted finally. "We'll have to think of something good to repay her with."

But he wasn't thinking about Natasha Romanoff - not anymore. He was too busy watching his wife, silhouetted against the backdrop of moon and stars and lights as she unpinned her hair and let it fall over her shoulders. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known," he told her in a hushed voice as he unscrewed the top from the bottle of bourbon, though his gaze was still fixed on her. Though she had a twin, it wasn't Liv who had caught his attention and captured his heart, but Lucy, and if anyone could tell them apart, it was Steve. The differences might be subtle ones, but to Steve, they were like night and day.

Shaking her hair out, she turned to face him, a little overwhelmed with all the compliments that had spilled out of him over the course of the evening. Her hands stroked against his chest as she came to him, gently unbuckling his belt as the brass buttons came undone, one by one. "There isn't a word for what you are to me, Steve," she told him sincerely. "Poets come close, but not close enough. I wouldn't even be a shadow of myself without you."

He set the bottle down on the table, as she worked his uniform loose, his hands going to slide over the satiny smoothness of fabric that hugged her hips. "We're better people for knowing each other," he told her, unsure just how to explain what he meant by that. He was a better man for loving her and having her in his life, and a far happier man than he'd been before he met her. He touched a kiss to her lips, letting that kiss speak for him.

She knew what he meant, promising him her understanding in the kiss that answered his. But perhaps the time for words was over. It had been months since they had been able to take their time with one another, months since they had truly been able to focus on each other without worrying about interruptions from their children or the heavy weight of care over Peggy hanging on their hearts. It had been a difficult year, but they would ring it out in love and trust, renewing the bond between them that could so easily have been lost in the turbulence of their growing family.