((Contains material of an adult nature.)) ______________________________

The sound of the shower was heard coming from the direction of the bathroom, so it was apparent Steve had agreed to at least take advantage of Lucy's offer to get warm and dry, if only for one night. The shower felt wonderful, the stream of hot water massaging sore muscles and chasing away the chill. Though physically enhanced through the wonders of modern - okay, not so modern - science, he was still essentially human. Immune to most illnesses and diseases and quick to heal, he still got cold and hungry and tired, and he could still be wounded or even killed, if he wasn't careful. Though stronger and healthier than the average man, he wasn't indestructible.

He was in the shower about ten minutes, in the bathroom about twenty. When he finally emerged, he was wearing a plain white t-shirt with the image of an eagle on the front and the letters "SSR" emblazoned on a shield, a pair of tan pants, and white socks. His hair was combed and parted neatly on the side, and he was clean-shaven.

Lucy hadn't been idle, leaving the coffee hot in the pot while she fixed something that most people might consider a little unusual for a snack. What do you get when you layer bacon, sliced red onion, sliced tomato, and cheese on toast, and grill it until it crisps" What Liv liked to affectionately call one of Lucy's Little Messes.

She was just cutting the heavy slices in half to set on a plate as Steve emerged from the bathroom, looking up only to find herself almost instantly enthralled. Good lord, you are handsome. Blinking before she could stare too much, she smiled at him, reaching over to pat the clear end of the table. "Very nice," she complimented her guest. "Sit down, this is about ready."

"Nice?" he echoed, arching a curious blond brow, completely oblivious to the reaction his appearance generated in the majority of the female population. Sure, he'd been told he was handsome and all that, but he didn't really believe it or think much about it. In his mind, he was still just a skinny kid from Brooklyn. "You're sure it's no trouble?" he asked, as he stepped into the tiny kitchen, purposely keeping a safe and polite distance from where she stood near the stove. "I really appreciate the hospitality," he told her as he shuffled toward the kitchen table. The t-shirt left very little to the imagination, only enhancing the physique beneath the thin cotton covering.

"I am absolutely certain," she assured him, brushing crumbs from her hands before setting the plate down on the table. "Just go with me on this one, I like cooking. Now sit down." Smiling, she moved to steer him to the table, reaching high to put a certain amount of pressure on his shoulders in an attempt to make him sit at the table. "Eat. How do you like your coffee?"

He let her steer him toward the table and took a seat, all too aware of the pressure she was putting on his shoulders, insisting that he sit and stay awhile. She encountered no resistance; he had nowhere else to go anyway. "Black, please," he replied as he settled himself on the chair, only realizing when food was placed before him how truly hungry he was. How long was it since he'd last eaten anything" It had only been a few hours, but somehow, it seemed like ages ago. "So, where are you from originally, how'd your sister end up here, and how'd you follow?" he asked, coming straight to the point, as he picked up the sandwich. She seemed to know something about the portals and more than likely knew how to get him home.

"Black, got it." Turning back to the counter, Lucy pulled a cup from one of the cupboards, wiping the dust out of it before she poured his coffee. "My, aren't we suddenly chatty?" she teased through a grin. "A hot shower really does work miracles." Her hand laid gently on his shoulder as she leaned over him, setting the coffee down by his hand. And it was a real effort not to kiss his cheek in the process.

"You guessed right the first time. I'm from England, a city called York. Liv got referred to a new film studio that was being set up here over a year ago, and someone taught her a little bit about how to get through the portal, so she made the move to Rhy'Din. And I, being the older, more persuasive twin, talked her into telling me how to do it, too." She grinned, moving past him toward the bed.

"That doesn't really tell me much," he admitted, taking in her story. He already knew she was from England - that much was obvious. What he really wanted to know was how the portals worked and how easy would it be for him to find his way home. No, he wasn't planning on staying, as attracted as he was to her. It just wasn't a viable option. He didn't really have much choice. He knew that come morning, he'd most likely be returning to his own little place in the cosmos, and he'd never see her again. Easy come, easy go, he mourned silently.

All too aware of her presence as she leaned over him, he did his best to focus on his sandwich and not on her hovering presence or the subtle scent of her perfume that his enhanced senses had picked up from the moment he'd first met her. He took a bite of the sandwich, blue eyes tracking her movement, wondering what she was up to now that he had agreed to stay the night.

"Well, I'm not the best at explaining things like the portals," she called quietly over her shoulder, her back to him as her hands curled up to undo the zipper of her dress. The studio apartment was too small for her to even attempt to be modest, so she figured she might as well just get on with getting comfortable and hope it didn't freak him out too much. "Liv is better at it than I am. But I could show you, probably."

Fortunately for him, he wasn't Superman and didn't have x-ray vision. He couldn't look through the wall to see her changing, but he did hear the sound of a zipper and rustling fabric and put two and two together. He only hoped she was changing into something that was a little more modest than what she'd had on, or he was doomed. "I can't stay," he said aloud, more to himself than to her. She had no idea who he was really or why he had to go home and since she hadn't asked, he hadn't explained.

It was enough for her to know that his arrival here had been purely accidental, and the primary thing on his mind was finding his way home. That was the real trick, wasn't it' "I'd appreciate that," he called back, secretly feeling a pang of regret that he couldn't stay and get to know her better, but such was the life of a superhero. He was needed back home; as far as he knew, he wasn't needed here. He finished the sandwich in silence, grateful for the meal, however simple, and washed it down with a few gulps of coffee.

"I'm sorry, what?" In the process of removing jewellery and make up, Lucy had heard him speak, but not what he'd said, and, unfortunately for his peace of mind, didn't think before moving into view. She was definitely not modest by this point, but she did match - bra, panties, and suspender belt, all made to measure, set off by the lace tops of her sheer stockings. Her hair flopped over her shoulder as she looked over at him, genuinely innocent of the fact that she really wasn't suitable for his eyes in that moment. "I didn't hear you, Steve, I'm sorry."

"What was that thing....back....there..." His voice trailed off, the question dying on his lips, his eyes practically popping out of his head when he looked over to see her standing there in only her lingerie, like a pin-up in a magazine only very real, very human, and very female, standing right there in front of him. Fortunately, he didn't drop the cup of hot coffee, but lowered it to the table before he did, gulping a breath and clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" he asked, point blank, not really one to beat around the bush much. She couldn't possibly be unaware of the effect she was having on him. Though a gentleman and rather old-fashioned when it came to matters of modesty, he was still a man with the same desires and libido of any healthy, red-blooded male in his prime.

"What?" For a moment, Lucy really didn't know what he was talking about, before her own gaze followed his downward. "Oh. Sorry!" Laughing, she skipped out of sight once again. A minute or two later, she came back into view, this time wrapped up in a robe that at least covered her to mid-thigh, smiling apologetically. "I think the answer to that question is ....not intentionally, but if it's working, I wouldn't argue," she told him honestly, this time not bothering to resist the urge to touch her fingers to his shoulder as she passed. "Finish eating. I'll behave myself."

She studied him for a long moment, chewing on her lower lip in an oddly childlike gesture that betrayed enthralled thought. "Yes," she agreed slowly. "Yes, I suppose we will." She smiled suddenly, the expression relaxed and just a little regretful, her thoughts tempting her to go somewhere she wasn't sure would be a sensible place for either of them. But that uncertainty wasn't really holding sway in the face of intense attraction, however much she might be trying to behave herself.

"Look, you can't sleep on the sofa," she said, turning to plunge her hands into the hot water and begin washing the dishes, losing a shoulder of her robe halfway down her arm thanks to the vigorous motion. "You'll put your back out. I'll be fine on the couch myself, you take the bed. It really is the least I could do."

"You don't owe me anything, you know. It's not like I saved your life or anything." He had told her to get into the car the moment the hissing beast had shown up, knowing he could defend them both, if he had to. Suddenly, he found himself pushing away from the table and coming up beside her, fingers brushing a bare shoulder to tug the robe back up and give her some sense of modesty. "Let me do the dishes," he offered, wanting, even needing to make himself useful in some way. "It's the least I can do," he turned her words back around on her.

The brush of his fingers against her skin, so light and innocent, sent a shock through her that she certainly hadn't been expecting, her reaction close to instant and visceral. Her skin flushed visibly, sweeping rose taking the place of what she had joking called her lily-white coloring not just on her cheeks but over her entire body, the sensation drawing a quiet gasp from her as her head turned, her eyes snapping up to find his.

Now Lucy considered herself to be a woman of the world, well-versed in this arena, but she'd not felt anything like that before. Swallowing, she caught her gaze lingering on Steve's lips, tearing her line of focus back up to the unwavering blue that was his eyes. "I ....all right," she surrendered the task without argument, moving to back away from the sink without even reaching for the towel to dry her hands.

He met her gaze, not missing the flush that was caused by the all-too-brief, innocent brush of fingertips against her shoulder. Though inexperienced with woman, he recognized the look of desire in her eyes and had to look away, else she'd notice the matching fire in his own, stirred partly from the strange connection he was feeling toward her, whether real or imagined, the obvious mutual attraction, almost like an electrical charge that heated the air between them. He grabbed the towel but instead of just handing it to her, he found himself reaching for her hands, his fingers lingering on hers before pulling slowly away. He was about to argue with her about the bed, but whatever he was going to say evaporated from his mind when his fingers touched hers.

Some things transcend time and era, the mannerisms of a given age or customs of a specific society. Some things shine brightly, no matter how much either party tries to hide it. Lucy could feel, sense the desire in this strange, special man, knew he was feeling for her at least some of what she was feeling for him. Her wet fingers slid through his, missing the touch as he retreated the moment it was gone, and yet ....she did nothing about it. For the first time in a long time, Lucy was actually trying to behave as though she had a little dignity, despite the fact that she hadn't wanted someone like this, well, ever.

Wiping her hands dry on the towel, she finally managed to turn her eyes away, laying the cloth on the counter once again. "I, um ....I've got some extra blankets in the bedroom, I'll make up the couch for myself."

There was a moment, however brief, when he could have kissed her. He knew she was waiting for it, knew she wanted it. She'd said so herself, and yet, he'd held himself back, ever the gentleman, afraid of being too impulsive, of taking advantage of her vulnerability, afraid he might hurt her or hurt himself. The opportunity lasted for the length of a heartbeat and then it was gone, and he found himself regretting not taking advantage. A modern man would have, but he was anything but modern, old enough to be her grandfather, if you counted the years.

They were as different as night and day, unable to even share the same historical events, and he feared she'd find him ridiculously old fashioned. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Lucy. It doesn't matter where I sleep. I can sleep on the floor. I can sleep anywhere. To be honest, I'm not even sure I'll be able to sleep, so there's not much point in putting yourself out." He continued to watch her, sensing as much regret in her as in himself. This was silly. What the heck was he afraid of? She was just a woman, after all, and he was a man.

Strangely, it was his insistence on arguing with her one moment of good sense this evening that brought her out of her distracted staring, drawing a laugh that was richer and warmer than those that had gone before from her throat. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard that," she said through a wide grin, laying her hands on her hips as she looked up at him. "Are you arguing with the doctor in the room about where it's best for you to sleep?"

"No," he replied, turning half-way to face her, only slightly amused by her attempt at assertiveness. Well, at least, she wasn't shooting at him. That was always a plus. "I'm arguing with the woman in the room about sleeping arrangements. I can practically sleep standing up. Honestly. See?" He tilted his head to the side, letting his eyes fall shut, eyelashes too long for a man brushing against his cheek, pretending to be sleeping by making an obnoxious snoring sound, deep in his throat. Yes, there was a sense of humor buried somewhere behind the mostly serious exterior.

She stared at him for a long moment, mildly incredulous that he was teasing her. "I realise my apartment is small, but there's no need for me to put you in a cupboard upright for the night," was her response, her smile widening still further at his pretense of being asleep. "Stop that, you silly man!" Laughing, she took up the wet cloth from the counter and threw it over his head. "Do the dishes, and stop arguing with me."

"You could try, but I don't think I'd fit," was his comeback, either relaxing enough to let his sense of humor come out or trying to relieve the feeling of awkwardness between them or a little of both. Most likely, the latter. He laughed at her reaction, the first time he'd laughed in a very long time, surprising even himself, tugging the dish cloth from his head and turning back to the sink to complete the task he'd volunteered for.

"Yes, ma'am," he told her, snapping off a sharp salute, but unable to hide the smirk from his face. The salute was the real thing, not a mockery of a salute, like most people might attempt. Sharp and crisp, with fingers straight and pressed together, even standing straight at attention, though his mouth was curled upwards in amusement.

She recognised the salute for the real thing, backing up once again as she admired the view of his back where he stood bent over the sink, her head tipped to one side with speculative enjoyment of the sight he presented her. It was only when she knocked into the back of one of the couches that she snapped out of it, giggling to herself like a lovestruck teenager as she skipped over that couch and slipped through the archway to rummage beneath the bed for spare blankets. "How long were you in the army?" she called to him curiously, ruthlessly suppressing any wanderings toward what he must look like in uniform. After all, he was pretty stunning in civvies.

That was an interesting question and one that though simple enough to answer, was more complicated than it seemed, but she didn't need to know the details. At least, not yet. It was a simple enough question, and one that only required a simple answer. "A few years," he replied, non-specifically. "It was a special branch actually. What you'd call special ops now, I guess." He plunged his hands into the soapy water to wash up the few cups and dishes that had been soaking while they talked.

If he was inexperienced in the matters of love, he was at least a quick learner. After all, he knew what went where and why. He understood the biology behind it; he only lacked the experience. How hard could it be? Men and women had been doing it for eons without so much as an instruction manual to lead them and guide them in what to do. He relied, as he always had, on his instincts, deepening the kiss, a little clumsily at first, but following her lead, molding his body to hers as his arms held her close and he lost himself completely to the first real kiss shared between them, but hopefully not the last.

When, finally, her lips broke from his, she didn't retreat. She didn't even open her eyes, her breath shuddering in and out of her chest as she stayed close, the curve of her nose stroking against his with each inhale and exhale. She felt disconnected, and at the same time, acutely, vibrantly aware of every last inch of herself, from the tingle in her toes to the minute sway of her hair to the liquid heat that had ignited deep inside. Kisses weren't supposed to do that, were they' "Please don't say that was a mistake," she heard herself whisper to him, hoping against hope he wasn't about to come to his senses.

"Not a mistake, no," he answered quietly, as out of breath as she was, and as much in a state of astonished bliss, the sheer power of their shared embrace rocking him to the very core of his being. He wasn't sure what it was, but it sure as heck wasn't a mistake. "Are you sure you want to sleep on the couch?" he asked, a subtle inquiry as to her intentions and desires. This wasn't about getting lucky; it wasn't even about losing his virginity. It was so much more than that, bigger than either of them seemed to have expected. Maybe everything really did happen for a reason, but if it did, he found it hard to believe that he'd been sent here by whatever powers that be only to meet someone like her and just as quickly lose her again.

Her eyes opened gradually, focusing on his as he gently prodded her for some sort of clarification on the night ahead of them. Her fingers slid down his cheek as she gave into the urge to kiss him before answering, just a gentle press of her lips to his as her palm found a place over his heart. "Well," she drawled, drawing out that one word far too long to be anything but a tease, eyes sparkling with faint mischief, "....I'm sure as hell not sleeping with you on the floor."

He lost himself again to her kiss, his heart pounding as she felt his fingers touch his cheek, then his chest, lighting a fire deep inside him that he'd really never quite acknowledged or completely experienced before. "I warned you," he started with a smile that hinted at a bit of mischief he rarely let anyone see. "I doubt I'll be doing much sleeping." And with that said, he procrastinated no more, waiting no further. Sweeping her off her feet and into his arms, he carried her effortlessly through the door to her bedroom, the effort she'd made to create a makeshift bed for herself on the couch mostly likely wasted.

With one manoeuvre, he'd already marked himself out from others, though he hardly needed to. Lucy had never been swept off her feet, and certainly not by a virgin. Oh, yes, she'd guessed that little secret from a dozen little clues - hesitation where an experienced man would press on; hopeful eagerness to please that would be replaced with confidence given time; even the way his hands had settled on her during that breathless kiss, in a supposedly safe grasp on her back, not daring to roam. Not yet, anyway. And she didn't care; it didn't matter if he'd been with a dozen, one, or none. He'd never been with her.

He laid her back against the bed, not asking for her permission again, but taking his time enough that it would be easy enough to stop him, if that's what she wanted. His kisses, though clumsy, were ardent and showed promise for the lover he might become under the right tutelage. He pulled away from her a moment to peel the t-shirt over his head, clumsily shaking it from one arm to drop carelessly onto the floor before his lips found hers again, drifting to her cheek, her neck, her throat, heart racing even as he tried to take his time.

Stopping him was the furthest thing from her mind as he laid her down, her arms reaching to draw him down to her. There was a moment when her brain pointed out the backdated wisdom in her having forked out for such a big bed a few months before, quickly quashed as Steve rose over her to shed his t-shirt. This time her jaw really did drop, amazed by the size of him, how beautifully defined he was, forestalled from openly admiring him as she might have chosen to by the renewal of his gentle, clumsy kisses that, slowly but surely, were growing with confidence as he drew soft sounds of pleasure from the young woman in his arms. She could feel the impatience in him, wondering why he was forcing himself to take his time when his instincts were clearly demanding something faster.

"Steve," she murmured his name against his ear, trailing greedy, caressing fingers over the chiselled perfection of his back, "there's no law against doing what comes naturally."

He reacted to her touch like wood to flame, desire flaring to life inside him, even as he tried to keep it under control. He broke away from the kisses he was trailing against her neck to meet her gaze, blue eyes dark yet vibrant with barely-repressed desire. "I don't want to hurt you," he confessed, short of breath, face flushed with the heat of moment. "I don't really..." He broke off, reluctant to admit his inexperience, worried she'd reject him or, even worse, laugh at him. "You're so beautiful, Lucy," he stammered, obviously enraptured by the moment and by her, though they barely knew each other. He slid the robe away to expose the very same shoulder he'd covered with those same fingers only a short time before, hesitating again, pulse pounding in excitement.

His compliment, so sincere in a moment when she hadn't been expecting it, fizzed through her blood, urging her smile back to the surface with undisguised delight. "I was going to say the same about you," she told him, rising up from the bed to catch his lips with her own, pressing kisses to his mouth that were filled with the passion he was trying so hard to keep a lid on. "You won't hurt me," she promised between those kisses, reassuring him without offering any sign that she knew the reason he was hesitating. As he drew the shoulder of her robe down, she lay back beneath him, reluctantly smoothing her hands down his chest to the tie at her waist, nimbly releasing herself from the black satin until it opened, pooling about her on the sheets.

No one had ever told him that before, not even Peggy. Oh, she'd alluded to fact that he was easy on the eyes, that she was pleased with his transformation, but it wasn't the same thing. He couldn't help but wonder, as he had so many times in the past, if she'd have found him halfway attractive before he'd become a lab rat. No one had ever bothered to try looking past the skinny kid he'd been to see the potential shining through. No one except for one man who'd believed in him and given him a chance to live up to the potential and be the man he always wanted to be. But he didn't have time to think much on that now. He was too busy admiring the woman before him, already starting to surrender himself to the sweet blissful feelings of love and affection that were stirring inside his heart. Or was it just lust' He wasn't really sure.

His eyes widened, mirroring the look she'd given him when he'd taken his shirt off, though his jaw thankfully stayed where it was. He'd seen plenty of pictures of women before, but this was the real deal and she was all his for the taking, at least for now. "God," he muttered in absolute, innocent awe of her as he admired the soft curves that lay at his fingertips, further stirring his desire. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted dourly. It was like being offered a banana split and not knowing where to dig in first.

She hadn't quite expected that level of innocent amazement, wondering in the back of her mind if he had ever even seen another woman in only her underwear before. "It's not a test, Steve," she smiled, rising up a little more to pull the robe out from beneath her and let it slither to the floor. "Trust me ....you can't do anything wrong." Which was possibly a little optimistic, given the circumstances, but it never hurt to show a little faith in someone. Lucy pushed up from the bed, pushing him with her until they were kneeling together, drawing his hands to her bare skin.

"Just touch me," she murmured to him, her lips once more teasing against his as her own hands trailed up over the delicious line of his arms. "Wherever your hands want to go." And as if to prove her point, her own hands smoothed down his back, cupping the curve of the backside she'd spent several minutes admiring from a distance, and squeezed gently.

Any sound he might have made was quickly muffled by her lips, his moans joining hers as their bodies joined together, rising ever higher toward that inevitable climb and crash of ecstatic release. He'd never felt anything quite like it, and he wondered briefly if he'd died and gone to heaven, so lost in wondrous and heavenly bliss. His climax broke quickly with unexpected violence, and his fingers clutched at her back, holding her fast against him as he rode the tide with her, calling out her name with urgent need, "Lucy, oh God!"

She'd never gone so fast from standing still to soaring, right there with him as he shuddered and called her name, his own name from her lips mingling with his voice as her own body shuddered with his, pulsing with the golden white-heat of that pleasure. It felt as though she hung there forever and a millisecond at the same time, falling back with a crash only to be caught in his arms, peppering his face with breathless kisses as she nuzzled close to him. "Amazing," she breathed to him once more, tracing her fingers down his cheek as she slowly felt reality returning. There was more here than just a quick shag. There had to be. Surely whatever powers were out there wouldn't give her a taste of this and then take it away.

It took him a moment to catch his breath, to slow the frantic beating of his heart, holding her there in his arms, never wanting to say good-bye. He wasn't one to give way to deep emotion, but he felt like he was on the cusp of something deep, something meaningful, something neither of them could deny, no matter how unexpected or unlikely or impossible. "Lucy," he whispered in unabashed wonder, tucking a lock of chocolate brown behind an ear, fingers grazing her cheek, blue-eyed gaze soft with budding affection. "I-I never..." His words trailed off, unsure if he should admit that she'd been his first.

She lay over him, one arm curled about the top of his head, her forehead resting against his as he whispered to her, already knowing what he was hesitating to tell her. Her fingers touched his lips softly, replaced by a tender kiss a moment later. "I know," she whispered back, gently reassuring him that it really wasn't experience that mattered. "It gets better than that, after a few tries." One eyelid winked at him, her chocolate gaze liquid with the fastest blossoming of affection she'd ever felt.

"Better?" he echoed, sandy blond eyebrows arching upwards as he curled an arm around her waist. "That was amazing. How can it get better than that?" he asked, really and truly amazed at the experience, which had felt almost spiritual to him, sacred, as if they had not only connected on a physical level, but a level far deeper, more profound. He wasn't imagining it, was he" They hardly knew each other. He wasn't sure what was happening to him; he'd never felt this way before. His fingers stroked her cheek, surprisingly gentle for a man who'd been trained to be a soldier, not a lover.

He was tempted to ask her to come with him when he left, but he couldn't ask that of her. It wouldn't be fair to tear her away from the life she had here, from those she cared for, from her sister and her career and her friends, just because of a feeling he wasn't even sure of. But, God, if this wasn't love, he didn't know what was. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, clearly in awe of her, smitten with her, eyes for her and her alone. The thought of leaving her was tearing at his heart, so close and yet so far, over barely before they got started.

Lucy couldn't put her finger on what it was that made his arm around her so much better than any other she'd felt. It was silly, her rational mind tried to tell her, to feel such an attachment to a man she knew next to nothing about, just because of one sexual encounter that bordered on immeasurably wonderful. She didn't want to think about him leaving when they found his portal the next day, but she was beginning to think maybe she knew why Liv had spent a lifetime stepping back for her. If you love something, let it go, she thought, as smitten with him as he seemed to be with her. If it is meant to, it'll come back. Now where had she heard that'

His whispered repetition that she was beautiful brought a slow smile to her lips, touched with the same sadness she could see in his eyes. "Only to you," was her own whispered answer. "But that isn't such a bad thing." She leaned down to him, and this kiss was as gentle, as undemanding, as giving as the first kisses they had shared when this feeling had swept them up together.

His fingers trailed through her hair as her lips found his again, cupping her cheek, wishing this one night could last forever. She had stripped away the last vestiges of boyhood and made him a man, or so he thought, not realizing that a man wasn't measured by his romantic conquests, but by the courage and conviction of a true and faithful heart. All he'd ever wanted was to be a good man, selflessly choosing a path in life that often put him in the way of danger in order to do what was right. It was a lonely life, but one that mattered. If only he could find a way to fit her into that life, he thought he'd never be lonely again.

"You're wrong," he told her between tenderly shared kisses. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known." Not that he'd known many. Though he'd certainly admired more than a few from afar, he'd only really loved one before her, but that had been a long time ago. Another lifetime ago. That was then, and this was now, and none of that seemed to matter.

From nowhere, the endearment rose to her lips, something unexpected, proof that this was much more than just a fling to the secret at the core of her, the vulnerable girl he'd seen so easily. "No, baby," she murmured to him. "You have the most beautiful soul I have ever had the privilege to meet." And I don't want to let you walk away from me. The next kiss was slow and deep, her palm travelling over his skin in a caress that was as affectionate as it was stirring, refusing to believe this was already at an end when there were so many hours to go until dawn.

Surprised yet again, not only by her words but by the depth of feeling that caused her to say them at all. This wasn't just a fling, just a one night stand, just two ships that passed in the night, burning brightly but briefly. It couldn't be. It felt so right, so true. It had to be the real thing, and the thought of that only made it that much more bittersweet to know it would only last until morning. His thoughts followed hers unknowingly. How can I walk away from you when I can't bear the thought of leaving you? Though no words were spoken, the thought seemed to pass between them as their lips met, igniting a flame deep inside his heart that he'd thought was hopelessly broken, never able to love again.

Perhaps it was cruel, perhaps it was selfish, but Lucy wanted to burn herself into him, to burn him into her, so that even when he wasn't there, she would never forget this amazing man in her arms. Her lips plied his with tenderness, teasing him to the first rise of passion once more as her hands roamed over him. "Come on," she whispered against his lips, drawing his hands over her own body. "You drive this time."

Just touching her caused his temperature to rise, desire rekindled, like a flame lit deep inside. Unsure of himself, he frowned up at her, afraid he'd make a fool of himself, make a clumsy, awkward lover. "I don't want to disappoint you," he told her, uncertainly, frowning up at her, even as his hands moved over her body, fingers tracing those soft curves that were already burned into his brain, shy but curious in his slow exploration.

Her thumb gently smoothed the furrow between his brows, the slow flush and shudder over her body under those tentative touches more than enough to declare what she was about to make absolutely clear. "I really don't think you can disappoint me," Lucy promised him, pressing one kiss, two kisses, a third, a fourth against his lips as she very gradually rolled onto her back, inviting him to find out just how responsive she could be under his novice attentions.

"Good." Her lips curved against his, drawing a smooth grin onto her face as she looked down at him, this large, beautiful man who lay beneath her, hers to have, hers to utterly ruin for any other woman. Which was her intention, selfish though it might seem. "I hope you're not sleepy."

He smiled, the shyness fading a little, catching her drift that perhaps she wasn't quite finished with him yet. "You know, before you told me you're a doctor, I thought maybe you were a prostitute," he teased, with an actual smirk on his face, a rarity for him. He wasn't sure why he was telling her, except that the thought of her being a prostitute now seemed so utterly ridiculous. As far as her intention to ruin him, she had already accomplished that goal and then some. His heart was already hers for the asking. "You're not sending me off with a bill, are you?"

"Well, I was scantily clad and snogging you, you're exused - I beg your pardon?" Whatever she had been about to do to him was abruptly put on hold as she sat back, straddling his hips, her hands rising to lay on her own hips as she looked down at him with an expression that might have been offended if she hadn't obviously been trying to hide a smile. "Let's see, you're getting food, shelter, and entertainment ....what do you think would be a fair rate for tonight, Mister Rogers?"

He smoothed his hands against her thighs, letting his eyes roam over and admire the loveliness that she had on display before him, just for him. He graced her with yet another rare smile, which, if not for the muscled physique, made him look almost boyish. "I'd say it's priceless. Guess I'll have to pay in installments."

Her head c*cked to one side, one brow rising as she looked him over with a smile that began sardonic but grew into an almost laughing grin. "You're lucky you're cute," she informed him with a chuckle, laying her hands flat against his abdomen to smooth palms and fingers over his skin, slowly leaning over him once again. Her dark hair slipped over her shoulder to tickle his cheek as she met his gaze, her nose barely an inch from his. "We've screwed," she told him in a voice rich with teasing desire, deliberately using vernacular and vulgar bluntness just to see whether he would rise to the bait or be shocked by it. "We've made love. How would you like to f*ck me now, Steve Rogers?"

For the first time all evening, he blushed, clearly not used to such blunt and vulgar language, especially not from what he considered to be a lady and in reference to himself. "I....uh..." However self-assured he'd been feeling a moment ago, he was stammering awkwardly again, his hands sliding around to her back as she leaned over him. He breathed in her scent, overwhelmed by her closeness. He had only just finished with her, and she seemed ready to start all over again. "Is there a difference?" he asked, curiously and completely seriously.

"Some people think there is," Lucy conceded, shrugging one shoulder as her fingertips ghosted over his blushing cheek. "That is very sweet, you know." She smiled, touching her lips to each cheek, tasting the heat of his somewhat embarrassed reaction to her vulgarity, stroking her cheek against his as she murmured into his ear, the length of her body teasing him with gentle contact.

"To some people, f*cking is all about instinct," she breathed to him, deliberately undulating her spine in an erotic display he could only feel, not see. "Don't you want to take me everyway you possibly can' Throw me down and take me and know I'm loving every minute, because it's you? Hold me close and move within me slow and steady, and see me come for you and only you? Dominate me, or be dominated by me" Don't you want all of that and more, Steve?"

She drew back, trailing her fingers down over his chest as she resumed that upright straddle over him, her eyes meeting his with direct challenge. "Because I do."

His body reacted to her seduction - because seduction was the only word that properly defined what she was doing to him - his blue-eyed gaze fixed to hers as she caressed his face with fingers and lips, before drifting closed as she pressed her body against his, casting her spell on him once again, drawing a moan from his lips. It was almost painful, this scorching need that burned him from the inside out. His fingers clawed at her flesh, grazing her skin, as she rekindled the aching need burning inside him. "Lucy, please..." he pleaded, not for the first time as she teased and taunted, his arousal most evident, eyes dark with desire.

Her smile softened, fading entirely as the needful grope of his fingers against her kindled her own desire to full heat that matched his, her back arching in an offer of sinful temptation as her lips parted, releasing a heady moan of her own. "Baby, don't beg," she breathed, falling over him once again, her body rocking to his as her fingers trailed over his skin to align them at the critical point. "With me, if you want it ....take it." She cried out as she felt him sheathed inside her once again, the sensation heightened with growing familiarity. Her teeth gently tugged his lower lip, goading him into something more than just going through the motions as a learning experience. "I'm yours already."

Ever the gentleman, it was against his nature to take advantage of a woman, but he'd never quite found himself in this situation before, and it seemed to him she was giving him permission to do whatever he wanted, and oh, what he wanted ....He wanted to burn himself into her heart, mind, and soul, to possess her completely, to make her beg for blissful release that only he could provide. He wanted her to remember him when he was gone; he wanted to give her a lifetime of love while he was here. All of these thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant, and then he was sheathed inside her exquisite warmth, moaning in delighted approval against her lips. She told him she was his, and something rose inside him, some fierce feeling of longing and belonging all at once, desire mingled with what could only be described as love, and he knew what he wanted. He wanted her.

She was driving again, hot and fierce, yet rippling with rousing patience as the first hard thrust was overridden by something slower, infinitely more torturous to both of them. But it was the kind of torture you wanted to drag out until there really was nothing left to do but take the release offered however you could. She sat back for a third time, dark eyes fixed to blue as the languid rock and undulation of her body over and with his settled into that teasing, coaxing rhythm, stealing her breath as she rose above him. Her hands trailed over his arms, prying his grasp from her body to link her fingers between his, palm to palm even as her head fell back, even as a sound that almost had no description fell from her lips to bathe the stillness around them with her desire.

He let her drive, watching, studying every nuance of her face, even as she played his body with hers, torturing him, taking them both nearly to the peak of arousal before backing off, until he could hardly stand it any longer. He linked his fingers with hers, blue eyes soft with longing, all he was feeling and hoping for there for her to see, on his face and in his eyes. All his hopes and dreams and desires were suddenly tied up in her, a woman he'd only just met but felt like he'd known forever, and suddenly he knew his life would never be the same again before of this night.

He waited as patiently as he could, holding himself back from sheer force of will, where a weaker man would have already succumbed to her teasing, until he could withstand no more. She had given him permission to do what he wanted, and what he wanted at that moment was to claim her for his own. He waited until she seemed close to shattering, and then with one swift motion, he rolled her onto her back, swallowing up her moans with his lips as his body rocked against hers.

The thought pained him, his heart aching with the knowledge that he might never see her again, like he'd never see Bucky again or Peggy or anyone else he'd once loved. They were lost to time, but Lucy wasn't. She was right here and right now, and at that moment in time, he decided that he wasn't going to lose her, like he'd lost them. Not again. "Lucy," he started, tracing her lips with a fingertip, as if to hush her and banish her worries. "You don't have to tell me anything. I love you already." The words came tumbling out before he could stop them, and though he knew it would be harder to say goodbye this way, she needed to know how he felt; she deserved to know.

She stared at him as those words came tumbling out, shocking her hard, as though he had cracked open her chest and placed a defibrillator directly on her heart. "Oh God," she whispered, catching his hand in hers to press an open-mouthed kiss to his palm, lifting her eyes to his once again, aching with the one thing she hadn't told him. "A few hours ago, I would have said that was impossible. I ..." And again, she hesitated. Those three words, so small and insignificant in the face of everything she had told him, still would not come. "The only person I've ever told I love them is my sister," she said softly, trying to circumvent that last barrier that just wouldn't come down, not yet. "But I haven't ever been in love. Not before tonight."

He smiled again, warmly, affectionately, if a bit sadly, touched by the tenderness of her kiss and the sweetness of knowing she loved him, even if she couldn't say the words. Somehow, it was enough, just to know that someone cared and that someone was her. "I've only been in love once, and it was a long time ago." But she knew that already, as he'd already told her. "It's not impossible, Lucy. How can it be impossible if we both know it's true?" He tucked her hair behind an ear, forcing himself to hold back the tears until he was alone, until he had the luxury of time and privacy. He had vowed not to lose her, and one way or another, he was going to keep that vow. "You know how to use the portals?" he asked suddenly, abruptly.

"If you're from the same Earth I am, then yes," she answered him promptly, figuring that if she had any questions, she could always ask Liv. Between Johnny Storm and Jonathan Granger, her twin sister probably knew more about the portals between Rhy'Din and their Earth than anyone not in some underground scientific research bunker. "But I don't know if you come from my Earth, and ....and I don't know how to find that out. Maybe they can tell us at the city hall when we go there in the morning."

He reached out to cup her face in his hands, an uncompromising look of determination on his face, searching her eyes, needing her to believe him. "I'm going to come back, Lucy. I promise." He frowned worriedly. What if he tried and couldn't find his way back" What if he lost her forever" No, he wasn't going to let that happen. "I wish..." he faltered a moment, torn between his feelings of honor and duty and love. "I wish I could stay, but I can't. Not yet. If....If something happens....If I don't come back..." He paused a moment, debating how much to tell her. Should he tell her the truth, or would she think he was crazy' "Go to New York. There's a friend of mine there. Tony Stark. He'll know how to find me."

"How long do I wait?" she asked him softly, pinned by the look in his eyes, unable to break free even if she had wanted to. "I don't want to distract you from anything important by ....wait, what?" The name of the contact he had given her had suddenly sunk in, making itself known quite abruptly. "You know Tony Stark" As in ....Stark Industries, Tony Stark" Iron Man Tony Stark?" Because, frankly, not to have heard of Tony Stark she would have had to have spent her entire lifetime at the bottom of a disused well.

Though he should have been heartened by the knowledge that she'd heard of Tony Stark, he only frowned further, worried Stark would try to move in on his territory, but he had to put his trust in Lucy and hope she wouldn't be star struck and wooed by Stark's obvious charms. "Yeah, it's a long story," he explained by not explaining, but at least she'd heard of Stark. That meant there was at least a chance they were from the same Earth.

"Hey ..." She might not have seen love in a man's eyes before, but Lucy knew what the first flicker of jealousy looked like. She smiled, nestling closer to touch her lips to his. "What did I tell you? Yours." Her nose circled the tip of his for a moment as she gazed up at him. "You didn't answer my question. How long do you want me to wait?"

"Yeah, well....I know Stark. I'm sure he'd love to..." He cut himself off, not wanting to play the jealous lover when he had no reason to be jealous. He'd given her Stark's name for a reason, and that reason was so that she could find him if, for whatever reason, he didn't make it back to Rhy'Din, and that reason only. There was that worried frown again, unsure how to answer her question, unsure how time worked here. "I don't know. Not too long. I don't want to lose you." Not like I lost Peggy, he thought, unable to hide the pain and the worry from his eyes. He didn't want to go through that again.

"I don't care what he'd love to do," Lucy informed him in no uncertain terms. "His intentions and what I will allow are two very different things, Mr Rogers." She smiled to reassure him, leaning up on her elbows to nudge his lips with hers once again, not wanting to see the pain darkening his eyes. Part of her wanted to say she'd give him one day, but again that logical part of her mind pointed out how little could be accomplished in a single day. "It feels like too long, but is two weeks enough' One week?" Why don't I just quit tomorrow and come with you? she thought, before guilt touched those thoughts. And abandon my baby sister without a word. No, I can't do that.

One day without you will seem like forever, he thought to himself, but he kept that thought to himself, reminded of another painful goodbye and not wanting to cause her any unnecessary pain. He didn't know what awaited him when he returned home, how much he'd be needed or for how long. As much as he loved her, he was a hero, and heroes didn't selfishly turn their backs on those who needed them.

"Two weeks," he heard himself saying. "If I'm not back in two weeks..." But he knew if he wasn't back in two weeks, then something most likely had happened to prevent his return and he wasn't coming back. His heart cried, Come with me....But he'd already been over that. She had a life here, a sister, a job. He couldn't ask that of her. Was it an impossible situation, or could they make it work somehow"

"Then I'll come and find you. I promise." Two weeks seemed far too long a time to be without him. Lucy had spent her adult life bouncing from one relationship to another without ever making even a fraction of the connection she had made with this man in a single evening. She didn't want to let it go, let him go, but she knew the only way to keep it was to loosen her grip just a little. She had no idea what he did, who he was to the people who were obviously waiting for him on Earth, but she had a feeling he was important. Important enough not to be able to just walk away from them. "Steve ..." she ventured to say his name softly, reaching up to trace her fingertips along his jaw once again. "Don't let me fall asleep."

They were like two ships that passed in the night, but two ships who had vowed to find each other again, to not allow what they'd found in each other to be lost so easily. His frown softened into a smile, warm and adoring, but touched with just a hint of the sadness that he was trying so hard not to let her see. "No, I won't," he promised. Though the night was slowly ebbing away, there were still a few hours until morning, and he didn't plan to waste a single minute. He slid a hand through her hair to the back of her neck and drew her to him for a kiss, a little more practiced, a little less clumsy. He had a good teacher, and he was quickly learning how to be a good lover.

It didn't matter how good, how clumsy, how new it all was to both of them in so many ways. All that mattered right here and now was that they were together, and that promise to be together again, somehow, not even a month from now. Some ships passed in the night, shining light brightly onto one another in the moment of passing never to meet again. One of these ships was about to change course and make that passing permanent, one way or another. A connection like this came once in a lifetime. Lucy wasn't going to throw it away, even if that meant starting again in another new city. Steve was hers now, and she wasn't going to give anyone else a chance to take him from her.

((How's that for a first meeting? :grin: As before, the title is from a Glenn Miller Orchestra song, and of course, this little tag wouldn't be complete without a shout out to the awesomeness that is Steve's player - AWESOME!))