The night hadn't been long enough. As he had promised, Steve hadn't let Lucy fall asleep, hadn't let her miss a single moment of him in her arms. She still hadn't said the three words that seemed to have come so easily to him, three words that really were insignificant in the face of the depth of feeling that held her in its grasp. But wish though she might, she hadn't been able to hold the sunrise at bay, either, reluctantly rolling from the bed to begin the day. She didn't stray far from him through cooking breakfast and making the bed, but here and now, under the steady flow of hot water from the shower, this was the first time he had been more than an arm's length from her since his own shower the night before. And she missed him already, the water that poured down onto her disguising the tears that she couldn't quite hold at bay, hoping that if she shed them now, she wouldn't cry on him when the time came to actually say goodbye.

Morning dawned all too soon, night slipping quickly away like a thief in the night. Steve had kept his promise - he'd loved Lucy all through the night, not wasting a single moment, both of them knowing but not wanting to admit that their first night together could very well be their last. He'd never dreaded morning so much as he did today, but there were bigger, more important things than the two of them, and he had a duty and responsibility to those who needed his help.

That was part of what being a hero was all about - making personal sacrifices for the greater good of all. It wasn't fair really, especially not to Lucy, but he had no choice. He only hoped she'd understand and that he'd see her again. He quietly went through the motions of dressing and eating, doing the dishes and tidying up her apartment while she showered and got dressed. Breakfast had passed mostly in silence, little said between them, both of them lost in their own thoughts and worries. He'd reached for her hand more than once and thought better of it, wondering if she'd find the hasty words he'd shared in the darkness foolish by day.

If it was words he was regretting, she had more than him to fill her mind with regret. She'd told Steve more in a single night than even her own sister knew about her, never asking for more than what he was prepared to tell her in return. There were secrets in him that weren't his to tell. With her tears finally under control, she stepped out of the shower, spending a short while drying her hair, watching the redness fade from her eyes. When she stepped out of the bathroom, there was little sign of the distress that had marked her ablutions as she went about pulling out clothing for the day, unable to keep herself from glancing to him each time her thoughts strayed his way. "You, um, you didn't have to tidy up, you know," she offered as a mean to break the silence that had settled on them quietly.

He had gotten himself dressed in the clothing he was wearing when she'd met him, sandy blond hair parted on the side and perfectly combed, looking handsome enough to have stepped out of the pages of an issue of Gentleman's Quarterly. There was something old fashioned about him, something out place or out of time, not glaringly apparent, but there to see if one looked hard enough. He'd carefully repacked his bag, all but one item - the t-shirt with the emblem of an eagle emblazoned on the front and the initials "SSR", which he had explained stood for Strategic Scientific Reserve, which had eventually become S.H.I.E.L.D.

He'd carefully folded the t-shirt and left it on her bed, something to remember him by, wishing he'd had something more meaningful to give her than a mere piece of cloth. He closed up his bag once everything was packed, turning to face her when he heard her voice behind him as she stepped out of the bathroom. She was even lovelier in the daylight than she'd been in the moonlight, and his heart leaped into his throat at the sight of her, already aching with loneliness, though he hadn't even left yet. He knew it was unbelievable, silly even, to feel so deeply for someone he'd only just met, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she was the one.

"It wouldn't be right to leave you with the mess," he replied, realizing he was leaving her with a lot more of a mess than just an untidy apartment.

She smiled sadly, reaching up to stroke her hand with tender fondness against his cheek. "You really are one in a million, aren't you?" Her thumb swept over his lips just before she turned away, feeling oddly shy as she shed her towel to begin dressing for the day ahead. "It doesn't really take a lot to find an appropriate portal," she heard herself say as she stepped into panties and jeans, straightening to button the snug denim below her belly button. "You are happy to give a blood sample, though?" They had been over this already; she was talking to drown out the heartache, nothing more.

Her touch burned like fire, only making heart ache all the more. You have no idea, he thought to himself, unsure why he was keeping the truth of his past and his identity from her, afraid it might make a difference, afraid it would change her feelings for him somehow if she knew the truth. What was he supposed to say to that' There was no response that seemed adequate or appropriate. He watched in silence as she turned away from him to get dressed, his heart pounding in his chest, wanting to take her in his arms and hold her close and never let go. "Lucy, I'm sorry," he found himself apologizing suddenly, though he wasn't quite sure for what. He regretted none of what had happened between them, and he had a feeling neither did she. They'd already been over what was to take place in the hours ahead. He hadn't told her how different his blood was from a normal human's, wondering if she knew how right she was when she'd accused him of being unique.

"Stop doing that." A moment later, she was turning back to him, pulling her shirt on over her head, lifting her hands to cup his cheeks, looking into his eyes with purpose. "Stop apologising. You have nothing to be sorry for, do you understand me" Nothing. Don't make me pull out the medical officer override card on you."

It hadn't yet occurred to him that they hadn't used protection; it had all been so unexpected, and though he knew what means of protection were available in the modern world, it had never occurred to him that he might need any. Even now, the possibility of a child was the furthest thing from his mind. All he could think about was the fact that leaving her behind was tearing him to pieces. He met her gaze with solemn blue eyes, dying to ask her to come with him, to leave everything she knew and loved behind, if only for a little while, but he knew it would be selfish. "I think I just might outrank you," he replied, only partially in jest, hinting for the second time that he was or had been enlisted in the military, but not explaining further.

"I'm sure there's some rule somewhere about medical personnel being able to declare any officer of any rank unfit for duty," she countered with a very faint smile, stepping just a little closer as her fingers slipped down from his cheeks, tracing barely there lines down his throat and over his chest. "But I don't suppose the American military would have me, would they?" She rose up on bare toes to touch a soft kiss to his lips, her fingers curling into his shirt as she rested there against him for a long moment.

He laid his cheek against her hair, savoring the soft texture, breathing her in, closing his eyes so that he could savor the moment, commit it to memory, and never forget. "I can't lose you, Lucy. I can't," he admitted quietly, tears in his voice, he didn't want her to see. "I can't stay. There are people counting on me. People who need me." He drew a breath, struggling to control his own rising tide of emotions. "I love you," he told her for the second time, a whisper of words he never thought he'd ever hear himself say to anyone.

"You aren't going to lose me," she heard herself insist, almost scowling up at him for even suggesting that it might happen. Tear-stained and sniffling, she glared up into his eyes, daring him to make that suggestion again. "I just need a little time, and I'll follow you, as soon as I can. It's your turn to believe me now. You hear me" You are not losing me." With each emphatic word, she clenched her fists in his shirt; if he'd been a normal sized man, she would have been shaking him, almost angry with him for being almost more fatalistic than she was.

He nodded his head, blinking the threat of tears away, at least those that hadn't already spilled over, and smiled a little as he swiped at the suspicious wetness, her tears mirroring his. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself cry. It might have been when Bucky died. "The glass is half full or half empty?" he asked with a faint but warm smile. The tables had turned, it seemed, and he realized she was as determined as he was and just as stubborn. A perfect match. "Two weeks if not sooner then. Promise," he told her, pressing his lips against her to seal the promise with a kiss.

"Between us, we've got a full glass," was her answer to that, swallowed by the kiss he pressed to her lips. Perhaps it was not the best moment for a kiss when they were supposed to be getting ready to send him home. Her reaction was certainly not one of a woman wholly wedded to the idea of finishing the task of getting dressed, that was for certain. One kiss turned to two, three, each fierce, more loving than the last. If he didn't take charge and stop her, they would be back to where they had been at dawn within minutes, and if she was very honest, Lucy didn't mind that thought one little bit.

Steve wasn't sure how time worked in Rhy'Din or how much time had passed back home while he was here, but he knew he was needed back home, and he knew if he didn't return soon, it was likely he'd be missed. And there was the matter of the motorcycle he'd abandoned on the road the night before - if it was still there. Though he might be able to get home without it, it was his primary means of transportation once there. It wouldn't really do to have Captain America thumbing a ride to New York, and the thought of calling for help was out of the question. It would be too hard to explain. Time was of the essence, and yet he made no attempt to stop or discourage her, returning her kisses with as much vigor and enthusiasm as they were given, relighting the flame that was still burning deep inside, that never really quite went out.

Lucy, too, could sense the impatience in him to get back to a world that needed him in some as yet undefined way, but that didn't mean she was going to let go of one last opportunity to be certain she was inexorably burned into his body and soul. As he bent to her, returning each kiss she pressed to him with all the fervor she gave, her arms wrapped about his neck, bare feet leaving the floor to wrap her legs tight about his hips, knowing he could take her negligible weight with ease. Fervid turned to fierce, turning to frantic, frenzied, as she ravished his mouth with her own, already close to that point of no return.

Wrapped up in her kiss, he forgot about the world for a while. They could wait for him just a little bit longer. He felt her legs wrap around his hips, further enticing him, surrendering himself completely. He kissed her lips with barely contained urgency, his kisses less clumsy than they'd been only a few short hours before, and carried her back toward the bed to claim her one last time, refusing to believe it might very well be their last time together. Fate couldn't possibly cheat him twice. He wouldn't allow it. He broke from her lips as he laid her back, gasping for breath, gazing into her eyes, in awed wonder yet again at the depth of emotion and passion she evoked in him and amazed to see it mirrored in herself.

Until him, no one had done more than catch the briefest glimpse of the sweet, vulnerable girl she hid away beneath the confident wildchild exterior, the older twin who would fold like paper if her little sister put her foot down. Not even Johnny understood that he was dating the dominant Broderick, because no one ever saw Liv exercise that power. No one but Lucy, and only when Lucy needed to be told. And now Steve saw her laid bare, exposed, vulnerable, and welcoming him in without a second thought, the logical and the rational pushed aside on a wave of pure emotion. It took bare minutes to toss aside clothing, to come together once again in that primal mingling of body, heart, and soul, and, somewhere in the midst of that controlled wildness, three words finally made themselves known. "I love you," passed from her to him on breathless kisses, the first man ever to hear that sacred promise from Lucy Broderick's lips. He had her; she was his, no matter what happened from this moment on.

He never knew until that moment how three little words could mean so much; how three little words could change his life completely; how three little words could touch his heart and fill him with an indescribable sweetness. "Lucy," he whispered, his heart swelling with love, nearly overcome with emotion, hardly believing his own ears. Three little words that he longed to hear; three little words that set fire to his heart and his soul, knowing he'd never love anyone else the way he loved her. He kissed her again and again, each time with ever deepening emotion, baring his soul to her, offering her his heart to have and to hold and to cherish for as long as she so desired. Passion mingled with love and affection and longing, so deep and so earnest, it was like a fever that burned deep within his soul.

Nothing could have been sweeter to her ears than to hear him whisper her name in the grip of such a revelation. Caught up without reserve in passion and love, longing and promises, a goodbye that swore to be the last they gave one another, she rose to heights almost beyond comprehension with his name on her lips, the wild, feral abandon of purely physical release tempered to softness with the sheer joy of declaring the love that coursed through her, cauterising the wounds left behind by years of loneliness with the brand that was him.

"Marry me, Lucy," he whispered, as their bodies came together as one, lost to the passion that burned between them, riding the cresting wave of mutual bliss, but it wasn't just this wild abandon that made him ask. It went so much deeper than that. She had captured his heart so completely, even after one night, he could no longer imagine life without her. He kissed her, fervently, three little words burning away all the years of pain and loneliness. None of it mattered anymore. She belonged to him, and that was all that mattered.

"Werewolves, I know. Or whatever that thing was." He'd always thought werewolves were nothing more than legend, but that was before he'd ended up on Rhy'Din. He frowned at her as she kissed him again, reminding him again that it was time to go home. It was well past morning, and the hours were passing quickly. What he wouldn't have given for a just a few more hours, but the clock was ticking, and he was needed elsewhere. He reluctantly rolled to his feet, gathering up the discarded articles of clothing that were scattered about the room. "Next time, remind me to pack more clothes."

She laughed softly, already in her underwear as he moved to gather up his clothing. "Don't worry, you'll have notice before you come here next time," she assured him, unable to resist the urge to draw a fingertip down the line of his spine as she stepped past to retrieve her jeans.

He turned, smiling a little as he glanced at her over his shoulder, slightly amused despite the circumstances and their impending farewell. "You're going to start something again," he warned. Whether she'd noticed or not, he had more stamina than the average man, more stamina even than Johnny Storm. He'd been awake over twenty-four hours, during which time they'd make love countless times, and he hadn't even so much as yawned. He wasn't invincible, by any means, but he was obviously more physically fit than average. He pulled his t-shirt on over his chest, the white cotton fabric hugging his sculpted torso and leaving little to the imagination.

Lucy actually blushed as she caught his eye. As a doctor, she was used to going long periods of time without sleep, but unlike Steve, she was close to needing to crash for a few hours. She didn't want him leaving while she was sleeping. "Well, don't look at me like that, then," she countered with a faint smile of her own. "And I'll try and behave myself." Her fingertips drummed against the waistband of her jeans as she turned away again, bending to retrieve her shirt.

He bent over at nearly the same time to retrieve her shirt for her, coming to a halt as his fingers brushed against hers and he found himself face to face with her yet again with only the shirt in both their hands separating them. Serious blue eyes met and locked with those of soft brown, and he forgot for a moment what he was doing, heart pounding in his chest, though he didn't know why. "Are you real?" he asked suddenly, out of the blue, wondering if this was all just some strange dream that he was eventually going to wake from.

She straightened slowly, her fingers flexing in the soft fabric of the shirt they held between them, transfixed by the clear blue wonder of his eyes all over again. Any thought of some snarky sardonic comment was set aside when she realised that he was close to believing that she really wasn't the reality of the last twenty-four hours. "I'm real," she promised him, stepping closer as her eyes burned into his. "I promise you, I am as real as you are." She released the shirt, reaching up to the gemstone chip necklace that circled her throat, carefully untying the delicate thread that held it there, and folding the length into his palm, closing his fingers over it. "My sister and I had matching necklaces made a few years back. I broke hers in a temper tantrum before she moved to Rhy'Din and I've always regretted it. But this one ....this is yours now. I'm very real, Steve. Don't you dare start thinking otherwise."

He looked into her eyes, as if trying to see into the very depths of her soul. There were times when he felt like Rip Van Winkle, having slept his entire life away. The world had become a surreal place, and this place - Rhy'Din - didn't seem any more real. Even after all the retraining and the reconditioning, he still felt out of place, except for the last few hours when he'd been with her. He watched while she drew the necklace from around her neck and laid it in the palm of his hand, something to remember her by, something to remind him that she was real and not a dream or a figment of a lonely imagination. "I'll never forget you, Lucy," he told her, unsure if he'd ever see her again, though they'd both vowed to find each other. He knew life didn't always work out the way you wanted it to or the way you planned.

"You had better not," she warned him mildly, rising onto her toes to gently stroke the tip of her nose to his. "Or you're going to get a big shock when I come looking to remind you." The tears were past, the distress and heartache wasn't something she wanted him to see. So she smiled, and hugged him, stepping away in possession of her own shirt to pull it on over her head before they could distract each other again.

There wasn't anyone back home; there hadn't been anyone in over seventy years. He had a job, a duty to perform, but that was all. All of his hopes and dreams were suddenly here, wrapped up in this place, in this moment, in this one woman he had grown to love overnight. He slid the necklace into his pants pocket, privately vowing to always keep it close, something to remember her by until they met again. He watched her a moment before he turned to quietly finish dressing, his heart aching with loneliness and he hadn't even left yet.

This time, Lucy didn't let herself be distracted by his eyes on her, by the gentle heat that just wouldn't subside. She wondered if this was how Liv and Johnny felt whenever they were around each other, if this was what had grown between them while she was still just playing around and standing in the way, and silently vowed to apologise to her sister for not seeing it sooner. She felt as lit up a Christmas tree, fizzing with something she'd never felt before, and she knew it wasn't just physical, it wasn't just the product of a sleepless night. It was something that touched her heart and soul, something she was never going to give up on. What a difference a single night could make.

Stamping to settle her feet in her boots, she shrugged into her heavy winter coat, sliding her fingers along the smooth edge of the shield he had risked his safety for in the darkness as she passed it. Those same fingers reached behind the fridge and found two letters, already written and addressed - notice for work and closure on her lease. Lucy was always ready to move on; she just hadn't expected it to happen like this. Tucking the letters into her pocket, she turned to look up at Steve, forcing a smile that wept with heartache. "Ready?"

He drew the leather jacket over his shoulders, hardly warm enough for the weather, but he didn't seem to mind, shouldered his pack, and followed her into the kitchen to retrieve his shield. He watched as she brushed past it, noticing she'd touched it, knowing it was probably because it belonged to him, curious that she hadn't asked about it. It wasn't everyday you met a guy carrying a shield made of some unusual metal and painted like it belonged in a U.S.O. show. But maybe it wasn't so unusual here in Rhy'Din. He picked up the heavy shield as if it weighed nothing and slid it onto his back. He saw her tuck a few letters into her pocket, but thought nothing of it, mirroring the smile that lacked any enthusiasm.

"What's done is done. There's no undoing it," he agreed with a small frown. He wasn't going to risk disrupting the present to change the past, he decided. It was too risky, and he had no way of knowing how it would turn out. He pushed the thought out of his head, at least, until he had more time to think about it, to weigh the pros and cons and the obvious risks. "There are consequences to everything, Lucy," he said, turning to look at her as they walked along, sensing he'd hit a nerve or said something wrong and guessing where her train of thought might have gone, thinking he should explain, if only to ease her mind. "I was thinking of this friend of mine. He was like a brother to me. He died because of me and..." He shrugged, saying nothing further.

Her smile twisted her lips, not quite the expression she wanted, guilt and regret making it more of a grimace than she expected. "I'm sorry," she murmured, stepping closer to him as they walked together. "I don't mean to mistrust you." She lifted their joined hands, touching the back of his to her cheek. "I'm sorry you lost him," she said quietly, knowing that what she was about to say next wasn't the most comforting thing anyone could hear. But the truth is very rarely a comfort. "Our loves and our losses are what make us what we are, what shape our lives. I don't know the circumstances, and I won't ask you to tell me. But if you and he were that close, then you are not responsible for his death. He is responsible for who you are, and that makes him as precious as anyone I've ever met."

He dropped his gaze to the pavement as her words rendered him speechless for a moment, touching him deeply. He hadn't mentioned Bucky to anyone in a long time, not since he'd died. The grief still felt fresh. Though in truth it had happened many years ago, it hadn't been that long to Steve. He came to a halt there on the sidewalk and turned to her, fresh tears shining in his eyes that he didn't really want her to see. "I need you to trust me, Lucy," he told her pointblank, hiding nothing from her, letting her see the pain and the heartache and the loneliness. "I am not going to lose you, too."

Drawn to a halt once again, turned about to face him, she looked up into his eyes and felt a little more of her heart break open at the vulnerability he was showing her. He knew everything there was to know about her, and she knew so little about him, but what she did know was his heart. Her hands twisted into his as she gazed into his eyes, feeling small and fragile in the face of his pain. "I do trust you," she swore earnestly. "I just don't feel as though I deserve you, and I don't trust myself not to sabotage this. You get left behind often enough and you get used to it, you start making excuses for people to do it to you. I know you're not leaving me behind, Steve. But this is a bad habit that I have to break. No one else can do it for me."

"I'm not..." He started, feeling a momentary wave of defensiveness before he realized what it was she was trying to tell him, sharing her own pain, her own past hurt that had made her who she was. "Lucy, don't," he told her quietly, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "I know we haven't known each other long, but I love you. I can't explain it, but I know what I'm feeling. I'm not leaving you behind, I swear. You just have to trust me, that's all. Look, I....I know what you're feeling. I....There was a time when I was nothing and nobody. I couldn't get a date with a girl if my life depended on it. You wouldn't have given me a second look. I know what it feels like to be alone, but you're not alone anymore, Lucy. I'm not going to leave you behind. I'm not going to forget you."

"I know," she whispered to him, and she did know. But knowing and believing were subtle in their differences, and she would only truly believe it when they were together again. "And you're not alone, either. Not anymore; not ever, if I have anything to say about it. I don't listen to my heart very often, but with you I can't drown it out. We will find each other again." She kissed him softly, breathing him in slow as she lowered once more to her heels. "But for us to find each other, we need to stop stalling and get you home before you're missed."

"Is that what we've been doing?" he asked with a small smile as she broke from his lips. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me," he teased, fingers caressing her cheek, leaning close for another kiss before turning to take her hand and continue along to where he'd left his bike the night before, hoping it was still there, or he was going to have a big problem when he got back to New York.

"Of course I am," she smirked back to him, falling into step as they approached the park she had inadvertently driven him into the night before. "How can I spend the next couple of weeks in a suitably miserable state of despair if you're refusing to leave and let me wallow while I'm waiting for you?" Despite the words, it was obviously a tease, and one she was comfortable to make, her free hand creeping into her pocket to finger the letters that rested there. She was going to be burning bridges the moment he was gone, ready to move on and find him. Giving herself no chance to convince herself that she'd dreamed any of this. "Look." She pointed toward the line of trees nearest them, and there, exactly where it had been the night before, was his bike, untouched. "I told you it would be okay, didn't I?"

"This place has dragons, but no thieves?" he queried, only half serious. Or maybe he'd just gotten lucky....again. "Is anything going to try and eat me?" he asked, lifting a hand to shade his eyes as he looked toward the patch of trees where his bike was waiting for him. He hadn't seen anything menacing yet by day, like he had the night before. He wondered what had happened to the thing they'd encountered. "Tell me something," he said as he started across the grass toward the not so distant trees. "What was it that attacked us last night?"

She laughed thoughtfully. "I hadn't looked at it like that. I don't know, it just seems like most people here have all they could want and more. There's no need to steal a bike." She shrugged, wandering over the crisp grass behind him. "To be honest, I have no idea what that was," she admitted. "We have a bit of a vampire problem in this neighborhood, but that could have been a shapeshifter, or an experiment gone wrong. It could even have been a hybrid. It takes all sorts."

"Vampire," he echoed, skeptically. "You mean like Dracula?" He hadn't quite caught up on popular culture back home and was as yet unaware that vampires had become romanticized to the point where they were often no longer considered monsters. But then, vampires were just the stuff of legends and myths and stories back home. "You wear garlic around your neck when you go to bed at night?" he asked. The more she told him about this place, the less he liked it. It was too dangerous, too unpredictable. "Maybe you shouldn't wait two weeks." The sooner she was back on Earth with him, the better.

"Well, vampires can't actually come into my apartment unless I invite them, and you've seen the locks on my door," she smiled, hoping to reassure him a little. She had a feeling her somewhat blase attitude toward safety measures wasn't helping matters, though. "Besides, there are a few things that work on everything. Mace, for example." She offered him a confident smile. "I've survived six months here, I don't think another two weeks is suddenly going to turn this city into a horde of ravening monsters bent on my personal destruction, sweetpea."