They ate the ribs Steve cooked in the small propane grill, in the later part of the afternoon. They were good, she would admit, but secretly she missed the smokey char even charcoal would have given them. But when paired with the pasta salad he had made, and the crisp, sweet watermelon, it made for more than a decent meal. She would even ignore that he kept putting food on her plate.

She ate it, to make him happy. It was his birthday, after all.

Eventually they were left with a pile of bones, the ends darkened and stained by spices and heat, a mostly empty bowl of pasta salad, and the green rinds of watermelon with a moist white pulp on the insides. The heat was high, beyond sweltering, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Silence, outside of the music Steve had put on when he started to cook, accompanied the end of the meal.

He held her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb, as he stared into the trees that surrounded them, his eyes and face relaxed, a soft smile on his face.

He was lost in thought.

That was, as far as she was concerned, dangerous for him.

"What's the matter?" She opened, deciding that letting him continue to think was best stopped before it became too much of an issue.

He inhaled slowly, turning to face her, that smile still on his lips. "I was thinking that this has been the best birthday I've had in...oh, ages. Thank you, Babydoll."

She flushed under his gaze, before smiling back." You're welcome. It's not over yet. We have presents and cake, still."
"Are you gonna sing, too?" He asked, humor in his voice.

"Well, yeah." She tilted her head. "It's expected, right?"

He kept smiling. "You don't have to, if you don't want to. I won't force you."

"I even bought candles." She informed him, feeling a touch of glee.

Steve laughed. "Oh, shit. Is there gonna be any cake left, after we light all of them? Ninety-seven candles, Brooklyn... there's a burn ban on, remember?"

She slapped his arm gently as she stood up. "Stop it. I only got a couple. It'll be fine. Lemme go get it, and the ice cream, and then I'll bring out the presents."
"I'll make room on the table." He indicated the food still out.
"You don't have to. "She told him. "it's your birthday. I'll bring out the cake and the presents, and then I'll take the leftovers in, before I light the candles."

"Are you sure I can't help you?" He pressed, looking at the table again, before turning to look at her. "I don't mind."
"Sit." She pointed at him, ordering, "Stay. Good boy!"

Turning, she went into the RV, skipping up the stairs. Going to the fridge, she opened the freezer side, reaching in to pull out the ice cream they had bought a while ago, but not eaten. After setting it on the counter, she allowed herself a little giddy grin, folding her legs and dropping to her backside to scootch across the floor to the small cupboard closet to the floor, next to the fridge.

When she had returned with the cake, she had to think about where to hide it, wanting it to be a complete surprise for Steve. Searching several cupboards, after which she had considered just hiding it in one of the storage cubbies under the bed, she had found this one cupboard next to the fridge, which didn't have anything in it. It hadn't made sense. Kitty had sent them off with a fully stocked kitchen, and it didn't seem like her to have left a single cupboard empty like this. But still, it had been empty.

It had been perfect.

Brooklyn had stashed it there, moving one of the smaller pans to be in front of it, if Steve ever got snoopy about things.

Now, she opened the cupboard and took out the pan, an almost euphoria singing through her veins, as she reached in and pulled out the cake.

Only for her smile to fall, and her excitement and giddy emotions to go poof.

The side of the plastic covering was twisted, warped...

And the icing on the cake had either fallen off... or seeped into the cake.

The entire confection had... melted. It was still warm in her hands, and she stared at it in utter disbelief. There was no way the RV had gotten that hot! They kept it relatively cool, in her opinion, though Steve mentioned they could keep it cooler. But it still wasn't hot enough to do this!

Setting it down, she peered into the cupboard, trying to find out the source of the heat, reaching in, and a low moan of despair left her, when she felt a steady stream of warm air coming from the side that abutted up against the fridge. Apparently, the part of the fridge that was there, put out heat, and the cupboard was supposed to remain empty.

Sitting back, she looked at the cake she had carefully chosen for Steve's birthday, and the absolute weight of it all settled on her, making her shoulders slump, and her back curve slightly. The failure seemed to crush her.

How had she messed this up? It was one simple thing, for a birthday! Have a cake!
She had bought one. She had brought it back to the RV, and hidden it, just to make it a surprise for Steve. One small thing.

That's all she asked.

How as it, that something everyone else in the world did without thinking, was such a struggle for her? How? This was the basic fundamental premise of a birthday celebration. A birthday cake. A fucking birthday cake. She couldn't even fucking do that right!

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, pressing hard enough that she started to see stars, trying to push back the tears that wanted to form.

She could kill an entire squad of military trained personnel, without panicking or breaking a sweat, possibly without a single hitch in her breath. She could disarm or arm a bomb, with hands so steady a brain surgeon would curse her in envy. She could jump out of a plane with little to no safety gear, and land without breaking a nail.
She could take on anything and anyone, as far as she was aware, come out on top with minimal damage and maybe... MAYBE... tangled hair.

What she couldn't do was make a birthday happen, properly.

Despite herself control, she could feel the tears leaking under her hands.

Jesus, this was an epic disaster. Her first birthday as a wife... and she couldn't put a cake in front of her husband. Everything, from start to finish today, had been a fuck up.

She couldn't cook breakfast properly.

She couldn't make the birthday dinner.

She probably fucked up the presents.

And most importantly of all... she fucked up the cake.

Why was it that the simplest things came so fucking easy to every fucking other person on this earth, but she couldn't even accomplish that? A fucking... cake.

The screen door opened, and she felt the RV vibrate under her as Steve came in. She curled a little more into herself, so ashamed of her failure to do birthdays. He was gonna see the cake and know she had failed.

For fuck's sake, the evidence was right there!

"Babydoll?" His voice was concerned, and she heard the clatter of the dishes on the table, as he came over to her in strong strides, dropping down next to her. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, trying to get her emotions under control. Steve didn't deserve her to lose her shit, over her inability to do the simplest things a wife was required to do.

He slid a hand along her shoulders, cupping the opposite one, bringing her body into his. "Hey, it's okay. Whatever it is, we can handle it. I just need you to tell me what it is, Babydoll. Please?"
She felt the heat of his breath in her hair as he pressed his lips on her head. Brooklyn couldn't help it. She hiccupped a sob, then bit her lip to stop it from happening again.

"Shh." He soothed. "I'm here. It's okay. I just need you to tell me what happened. Okay? Just tell me, and I'll make it better. I promise."

She shook her head, before gulping a huge breath, and dropping her hands. "I'm a fucking failure!"

Steve froze, his hands going still, before he, too, took a deep breath. "No. You are not a failure. You're a very capable- "
She ripped herself out of his hands, and reached down, picking up the warped plastic shell with the sad, melted cake in it, and slammed it on the floor in front of him, ignoring the creak of protest from the plastic. "Look at this! Look at this useless shit!"
She tuned her head to watch as he frowned, before he leaned over and picked up the stupid confection. "What- "
"It's your birthday cake!" She slapped her hands on her thighs, cutting him off. "I snuck in a cake. I bought it at that fucking Target! And I snuck it on and hid it! But, like a fucking incompetent twit, I didn't think about WHY the fucking cabinet was empty! You wanna know why it was empty? Do you, Steve?"

His eyes met hers slowly, and he licked his lips. "Why was it empty, Brooklyn?"
"It's empty because that's where the heat from the fucking fridge comes out! And it put a fucking cake there! Right in the line of the heat! So, what fucking happened?" She reached for the cake, and tried to pull it from his hands, but he resisted. Frustrated, she growled, "IT FUCKING MELTED!"

Steve put the cake aside, and wrapped his arms around her, rocking slowly. "Babydoll, it's okay."
"No! it's not!" She tried to push his arms away. Because, clearly, he didn't understand what was wrong and now she was going to have to use crayons and construction paper to explain it to him. "It's so fucking easy, for everyone else! People just throw birthday parties, all the damn time. Never breaking a fucking sweat! But I can't! I can't fucking figure out the basics of keeping a birthday cake safe, for just a few days! I can't make breakfast properly! I can't convince my husband to eat his fucking breakfast in bed, right after I wake him up! I can't cook him his birthday dinner, because I fucking burn fucking water!"

"You don't burn water!" He protested. "You've gotten so much better at cooking, since I've met you. I love your chicken and dumplings. I love your alfredo with the chicken. You're learning! And that's okay, still!"
"But it comes so easy to everyone else!" She tried again. "Last August, Kitty threw that amazing party for Juliana, and it was... fantastic! And I never... I never could have been able to do that! I never could have made my sister's first birthday that... encompassing. I wouldn't have even considered a tenth of what Kitty did for her. And this?"
She waved a hand around, indicating here, them, this day.

"It's just the two of us." She shook her head. "Just the two of us, and I still can't get it right! Even my father, in those hell holes they kept us in, managed a couple times to make it a special occasion, despite my hatred of it. But me? I can't fucking do it!"

His hand came up, covering her mouth, and she automatically reached up to his wrist to wrench it away.

"Brooklyn." His voice was firm, resisting her pulling. "Listen to me. You did not fail. You are not a failure. You made a simple mistake. It happens. And in the scheme of things, this was such a small mistake. You are not failing, at anything. You just... I hate to put it this way, but you haven't learned, yet. That's all. It's a learning curve. You have to give yourself a little grace. You didn't grow up learning how to do birthdays, and holidays, and cooking, and all of that. That's okay. You grew up learning how to survive. And that's nothing to be ashamed of. I didn't expect anything, today. Not really. And you have given me so much already. It doesn't have to be perfect. I don't even know what perfect is supposed to be, okay? So, I sure as shit wouldn't expect you to. I know you're trying to do something that you've read about, or seen in moves or on the shows, and that's not what I expect of you. Or from you. I just want you to be you, Babydoll. The rest will come with time, if you want it to. I don't think I tell you just how much I admire you, Brooklyn. How strong you are. How capable you are, of doing what needs to be done, even at the cost of yourself. I am proud of you. So, fucking proud, of the woman you've become since I've met you. I love watching you grow, Babydoll. I love it so much. I love you, so much. I love that you think you have to go above and beyond anything I've asked, just for my birthday. But it's not important. What's important, is I'm spending my birthday with you, and you've already done so much. The rest is just icing on the cake."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Did he seriously just...
She tried to pull on his wrist again, and he resisted.
"okay, so that might have been the wrong analogy." He admitted, kissing her head again. "That was not the right thing to say, right now, obviously. What I meant was that everything else is just... better, because of it. Because you're with me. Because you're my wife. Because we're on our honeymoon, and we're starting our life and future together. That's what I was trying to say. I honestly wasn't trying to make a joke about the cake. Which still looks delicious, by the way. So. Now I'm gonna take my hand off your mouth, and you're not gonna call yourself a failure. Because you, Babydoll, are anything but. You're so far away from being a failure, that it amazes me. Okay? Can we agree to that?"

Brooklyn blinked, her eyes going hazy with tears again, as she processed his words.

He didn't think she failed. He thought that she was strong. Capable. Steve loved her, and even if it wasn't turning out the way she thought it should have, he appreciated what she was trying to do.

She was kinda sure she had fallen in love with him, again.

She gave a slow nod, and Steve slowly took his hand away from her mouth, as if ready to slap it back, if she protested again.

Licking her lips, she cleared her throat, before bringing her hand up to wipe at her eyes. "I wanted to give you a great birthday. One like in the media. Because you deserve it. You deserve it for putting up with my craziness, and my moods, and... all the shit I bring into your life. I wanted to do it. Just... to prove that I can, and you're worth me going through the effort."

He chucked, wrapping both arms around her, and slowly rocking side to side. "And that means you've succeeded. Because knowing you were trying, for those reasons, means more than if you had managed to make it happen without a hitch. Besides..." He kissed the side of her head once more. "How many times do I have to tell you that it's fiction, and this is real life. People wake up and have to use the bathroom. People make mistakes, even when they try their hardest. We live our lives, Babydoll. We don't watch them on television or read them in books. We live it. And sometimes living it is messy. And that's okay, too."

She nodded, sniffing, wiping at her eyes again. "It's the only thing I have for comparison, really."
"I know." He hummed. "Is that why you try so much, during the holidays? You are trying to follow the comparisons you see in the media?"
"And Kitty." She admitted. "I don't know if I'll be able to do a whole month of Christmas, though. Or a birthday like she did."

"I don't want you to, if it's going to stress you out." He told her, his voice gentle but firm. "If the only think you ever do for my birthday is give me a blow job, or ride me in a lawn chair, I'd be very happy. Everything else is just extra. Nice, but extra."

"But you want to go all out for my birthday!" She protested, shifting so she could see his eyes. They were a bit red-rimmed, but clear. "You cried?"
"No." He shook his head. "I'll admit I got a little... choked up. Seeing you rake yourself over the coals for trying something, and it not working out. I don't like it when you do that. And yes, I want to go all out for your birthday. But I'm realistic enough to know that I don't have the experience for it, either. Would you have been mad at me, if I had made the mistake with the cake, too?"

She blinked, rubbing at her nose, before slowly shaking her head. If he tried to make a big thing about her birthday, and wasn't able to do it, or failed, she wouldn't be upset at him. Nor would she be mad at him, if he messed up a cake.

"Well, then? Why would you think I would be mad at you?" He prompted, gently. "I'm also pretty sure that you'd be upset if I was beating myself up over it, as well."

God, she hated it when he was reasonable, or worse, made perfect sense. It didn't match who he was, in her head.

"It's like..." she sighed, reaching up to rub at her face, trying to find the words. "It's like... walking. You know how to do it, right? But you still fall down. But what if you didn't know how to walk. And there's everyone around you, happily strolling around in the parks, and on the streets, and just... being normal. And you're sitting there... watching them, trying to figure out how to put one foot in front of the other. That's what it's like, sometimes. What is so fucking simple, to everyone else, is almost impossible for me. And... I want to be normal."

"Why?" He asked, reaching out to brush some hair out of her face. "Why is it so important for you to be normal. It's something I've always noticed about you. Normal this, normal that. Why normal?"

"Because I never was." She shook her head. "I'd see it, you know. When we were out. Or I'd hear about it, from the guards. People talking about their lives. How normal it all was. I'd see them living those normal lives, usually right before we ruined them. But it was there. This little slice. And it was in the books, as well. I'd read about these struggles, that to the people in the books, seemed so unsurmountable, but when compared to trying to survive what we were, were so miniscule. Like seeing a mountain for the first time, and then realizing it's literally just a tiny hill. But it was so wonderful, to imagine. We'd do that, you know. Pretend, or talk about what we'd be doing, at certain times. Papa liked to go on about Christmas, a lot. How'd we spend the day. What we'd eat. What we'd get each other as gifts." She rubbed her face away, feeling those old boxes in her memory start to rattle and creak.

She refused to open them, fully.

"But it was something we both wanted. And then..." She closed her eyes tight, before continuing. "Papa said that normal was the fairy tales told by parents to hide the sound of the real monsters in the hall. Or something to that effect. That normal wasn't real. That... it was all made up. But it's not, Steve! I've seen it, living out in the world. I've been seeing it, on our trip! Normal exists!"
"It does." He nodded. "But that's the thing, Brooklyn. Normal is what you make of it. One person's normal, is not the same as another's. And it's okay to want a normal. We can make a normal for ourselves. But you can't try and compare our normal, to others. Because... Babydoll, I hate to say it like this... but... we..."

"We're not normal." She said, stating the obvious. "But... Steve... shouldn't we try? If not for ourselves, but for Jules? Doesn't she deserve normal?"

He sighed, before giving that head shake, shrug he did. "It's a goal. But the important thing is to normalize our lives, so that she's not... she knows this is how we live. It's how the people who are gonna be influential in her life live. People like Nat. Sam. The rest of them, who she's gonna grow up knowing. We aren't... like the people in the books, Babydoll. We live vast stranger lives. And if we want to normalize it, then we've gotta make sure she knows it's one side of life. I mean, she's not gonna be able to hide that she's my little sister, anymore. We can't expect that of her. It's not fair to her. We gotta do better, in that regard. We gotta do better, so that when we bring Bucky back, she's gonna be ready for what... what that all entails. We can't sugar coat it, Brooklyn. Yes, let's make a normal for her. But it's gotta be our normal. A normal that... that we create. That's all normal is. You decide what is normal, and you make it normal. For now, right now... our normal is living in a moving home, until we get back to New York. Then, the normal will be living in our house, building our lives, while I work down the road, so to speak, while you go to school. We'll come home and have our normal there. It's going to be one that we choose, though."

She blinked at him. "It's just going to be that simple?"

"We'll make it be that simple." His voice was firm. "Because that's what we want. That's how we want to be."

She considered this, for a long moment, while he kept his eyes on hers.

If it was really that simple, then it was possible. If it was that simple, they would be able to make their own normal, and make it work. If it was that simple...

If it was that simple, that meant that she had to believe him in this and let go of whatever insecurities she had about things, and maybe even forgive herself for whatever ignorance she had.

If it was that simple, she had to trust him that it would all work out.

But hadn't she already put her trust in him, when she agreed to marry him? When the very thought of losing him caused her to fall apart so much? Wasn't that the point of her love for him, and her being his wife? That she trusted in him?
Brooklyn didn't believe in God. Or, at the very least, if there was one, she didn't trust Him to have her best interests at heart, as He hadn't proven to be very keen on the idea of anything good coming her way. But Steve... she trusted Steve. He hadn't let her down, yet. He hadn't betrayed her, not really. He had done everything he could, to protect her and her sister, while also allowing them the freedom to explore their new world. He hadn't tried to curtail their lives, in any way.
All he'd asked, is to be a part of them.

So, yes. She trusted in Steve. In his words.
Still holding his eyes, she nodded slowly.
The corner of his mouth curled slightly. "I'm sorry, Babydoll. But I'm gonna need the words."

"I believe you. I believe that you're right, and it can be... that simple. That we can create our own normal, and... and we'll live it. For us. For Jules. For... For Papa, eventually." She felt her voice waver, at the last bit. But she didn't lie.

She trusted him.

A brilliant smile lit up his face, and he leaned in, kissing her deeply, his hands coming up to cup her face as he did. It was slow, deep.
His promise to her, that he would keep.

Steve pulled away, only to rub his nose on hers. "Thank you, Babydoll."
"I believe in you, Steve." She needed to say it. Maybe she didn't say it enough. Maybe she hadn't voiced this enough for him to understand it. The trust she had in him. The belief she had that he would do what he told her he would. That he kept his promises to her, every time. Then and there, she made a resolve to tell him more often. As often as she could.

"And that means more than any present you could give me, today. But..." He sat back, with a huge grin. "The ice cream is melting. And I really wanna eat this cake."
Brooklyn turned her head to look at the melted cake, then her head up to look at the ice cream with the condensation trickling down the sides of the container, and the water pooling over the edge of the counter, dripping onto the floor.
"Oh, damn." She sighed.

Steve laughed, climbing to his feet, offering his hand once there. "It's okay. I kinda like my ice cream melted. And really, that cake looks like it's gonna taste delicious. So, what do you say we take it outside, and enjoy it?"

***

It was after they ate the partially melted ice cream, and the hideously ugly cake, after she sang to him horribly off key, with the candles that made him laugh, that he began to open his presents.

The cake, despite being melted on one side, and partially nude with the icing sunk into the cake itself, actually tasted pretty good. Not as good as say, the one Kitty got Juliana for her birthday, or any of the ones Brooklyn could have gotten from Carmine, but still good. Better than any cake Steve had as a birthday cake before, he claimed.

In fact, he had stated that he wondered if there may be a market for icing soaked cakes, in the future. He even went so far as to say that maybe they could start a trend, and she could make money off selling them.

Brooklyn simply rolled her eyes at him.

Sometimes, he really was an idiot.

She timed the presents, wanting them to be opened in a certain order. Mainly so she could explain herself, if need be. She didn't want him to misunderstand things. It was vastly different, and yet so similar, to Christmas. At least there, it was before she realized she was in love with him, and while she had been nervous about some of the gifts, this was way more intimate it felt like.

First, she had him open the series of gifts she had found in one of the quasi-craft shops. She had remembered, while wandering the mall, that he used to be really into art, before the ice. And while she hadn't seen him do any artwork himself, he had helped Juliana with her own for class, more than once. He had even taken to watching that Bob Ross character, when he wasn't watching the news or binging a show with her. Granted, half the show he spent complaining there was no way Mr. Ross could make a fully formed oil painting in the half hour, but the man did it, and Steve was always surprised.

With that in mind, she had purchased a few drawing books, drawing pencils (which she didn't understand were so different from regular ones. They looked the same!), charcoal sticks in different colors, and even an art set that the person at the shop said was for intermediate users.
Brooklyn didn't understand what that meant. But she knew Steve wasn't a beginner. She wasn't sure he was considered a pro, either. But because he *had* gone to college for art, before joining the War, it made sense he wasn't a beginner. Intermediate seemed like a happy medium.

It had been her intention at the time, to set him up to resume a hobby. Because hobbies were normal. But now she was second guessing herself based on the conversation they'd had in the RV.
As he opened them, ripping the paper with glee, he paused with each reveal. Instead of explaining her reasoning, she waited for his response.

"Art supplies?" He asked, as he looked them over. "I haven't bought any new ones in a while."
She nodded slowly, waiting.

Steve looked up at her, "This is wonderful. Thank you so much, Babydoll. This is...amazing, really. It's so thoughtful."

Brooklyn exhaled slowly. "I wasn't sure if you would understand. I mean, hobbies? I have noticed you haven't been doing any drawing, or anything like that, and I thought that maybe you might want to start again?"

"Life's kind of been busy, the past couple of years." He agreed, nodding, setting the art supplies to the side. "But I guess I can find time, again. Maybe when we get home."
"Or now." She blurted. "When we're not having sex, I mean. I don't want you to start randomly sketching while I'm giving you a blow job. But I wouldn't mind if you sat down somewhere and started playing with the new mediums. That's what they're called, right? Medium?"

"Medium." He confirmed. "If you're sure, though?"
"I wouldn't be insisting, if I wasn't sure." She reached across the picnic table, patting his arm. "You can open the rest of the presents now. I think... I think you'll like them?"
He raised an eyebrow at her hesitant tone, but nodded, reaching for the rest of the pile. He opened the first one, pulling it out and shaking it while confusion crossed his face.
"This is a little small for me to wear, Brooklyn."
She nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'm... not okay. With the whole Captain persona. I'm not. But... I'm willing to try to be better. This is me, with every inch of my being, saying I'm willing to try and be your biggest fan."

Steve pursed his lips, looking the tee-shirt over. "And you're gonna say this, with a tee shirt."
She pointed at the white, cheap shirt, with his shield printed on it. "You are gonna sit there, and say you're not going to enjoy me walking around with your shield on my tits? Who are you, and what have you done with my husband."
He laughed, setting the shirt down. "I'm still me, Babydoll. And yes, I can get behind you wearing my shield on your chest. I mean, hell... it's been around your neck for a while now."
"Well, good. Because I almost got my nipples pierced. They had these little Captain America dangly... things. But I figured that would be more upsetting to you, than anything."

"You would be right." He nodded. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I've seen them, since I woke up. But... your tits? Those pretty little nipples of yours? They're for me, and me alone to enjoy. I don't know if it would go over well, if you had a stranger handling them. Even if it was meant for my later enjoyment."

She blinked. "Wait, does that mean you're open to the possibility of me getting pierced?"
He pursed his lips, before slowly nodding. "There would have to be precautions, of course. You know how I reacted to the picture book you had made for me, for Valentine's Day. I am... very jealous of who gets to see you, and even more so of people who touch you."
"So, if I found a female piercer, and you were there?" She suggested, a small spark of possibility filling her.
"If it's something you want, we can make it work." He agreed, reaching out to take her hand. "And yes, those two steps are in the right direction. But only if you want to do it, for you. I don't need you to do anything like that. You're perfect, just as you are, right now."

And there it was.

For all his missteps, when it came to speaking, when it really mattered, when he really wanted to, when it was his focus... he could say the words that meant something. Here she was, offering to mutilate her body to please him, and he tells her that she's perfect, already. How many men would ignore that offer? How many men would have jumped on it, and grabber their phone to search for the nearest piercer who would have done the job as soon as possible?

Not Steve.

She smiled at him, shifting her hand to take his, and giving it a squeeze. "Well, it's something that can keep, for later, then."
He nodded, smiling wider at her, before looking at the remaining two gifts. "Should I continue?"

"Of course." She nodded, sitting back. "Go ahead. I promise, no more interruptions."

The wrapping paper was a memory, on the second present. He opened the box, and she had to grin as the thin printed cardboard ripped before being tossed aside. His fingers pushed aside the tissue paper, and he let out a loud, raucous laugh, as he picked up the cotton underwear.

"Also, not in my size, Babydoll. But I appreciate the gesture." He quipped, as he held them out. "And the shield right where it would be on your pussy."
"Well, like I said. I figured I could show you how I am gonna try to be your biggest fan." She laughed. "Although, I won't protest if you wanted to borrow them, occasionally. I imagine they might be a little tight, but I wouldn't object if you want to show off the goodies for me."
She gestured towards his groin, indicating what she meant by 'goodies'.

"Someone's been reading something salacious." Steve commented, grinning, before spinning the panties around a finger. "But I don't think they'll fit me, Brooklyn."

"They did have pairs in your size. But for some reason the shield was on the butt?" She shrugged. "I didn't think that was a message you wanted to send in the changing room of the new facility."

He laughed again, setting the panties in the box and pushing it to the side, reaching for the last, larger box. "You might be right about that. It might raise a few eyebrows."
"Well, it's a nice ass." She laughed, nodding. "I mean, I can see why you might want to make sure everyone knows it's yours."
"Brooklyn, if people are looking at my ass, and don't know it's mine..." He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I should hire that photographer you did, back in February."

"Ginny?" She questioned. "I liked her. She made me feel really at ease with the process and was really open to my ideas for how I wanted to pose. She also had some good ideas of her own."
"Was she expensive?" He asked, as he pulled at the paper of the last present.

"Well, I think it's relative." She considered. "I mean, I think she lowered the price, because she wanted to use some of my pictures for her business."
Steve froze, looking at her with concern. "What?"
"You know?" She shrugged. "Like promotional photos. She said I was perfect."
"So, this photographer said if you let her use the photos she took of you, which were meant for me, and me alone, for promotional purposes, she would lower the prices?" He looked even more concerned.

"Yeah." She nodded. "And you really liked the photos, too. So, I consider it a win-win."

He stared at her for a long time. She stared back, just as long. Eventually, he let out a slow sigh, before nodding.
"Okay." He resumed the unwrapping of the present.

She was confused.

"Okay?" She asked.

"Okay, I don't want to deal with it, right now. Or fight about it. Or...anything. It's a problem for tomorrow. Right now, I want to know what this last gift is. And then, maybe go for a hike." He told her, as he pulled the paper way from the box.

Once that was done, he opened the flaps of the box, then reached in, pulling out the first item.
"A hike? At this time of night?" She looked up at the darkening sky. "Is that the best idea? Especially tonight?"
Steve looked over the package, a frown forming on his face. "I think it would be a wonderful time to go for a hike. No one is gonna bother us. And like you said, we should be fine from the fireworks. The fire ban, right? It applies to fireworks. I looked it up. Is this a vibrator?"

"Yes, it is." She sat back, feeling the need to explain. "The same place I found the shirt and the panties at? It's called Spencer's. And they have this whole, pop culture-edge culture-adult humor vibe going on. And the front portion of the store is all for public consumption. I don't know if I would ever allow Jules in there, but it's okay, for a certain age group, I guess. But the back of the store? Pure adult."

"So, you bought a vibrator?" He held up the package.

"Yup." She grinned. "And a bit more."

He continued to pull out items. The smart leather paddle. The vibrating nipple clamps. The vibrating panties, with remote. The handcuffs. The ball gag and blindfold. The cherry flavored lubricant. The crop that had given her so much trouble, trying to wedge into the box.

"We have some of these already." He pointed out, lifting the paddle to demonstrate. "In fact, I think the one we have of this one is of much better quality. I especially like the 'Sir' on the one we already have, too."

"I figured, this one..." she pointed at it. "If something happens to it, while we play, then it's not such a big issue to replace it."
"And you think we're gonna damage the 'Sir' one?" He asked, setting it aside, reaching for the cherry flavored lubricant.

"Cherry." He commented, before taking off the security plastic and opening it, squeezing a little bit on his finger, and tasting it. His brow wrinkled. "I don't know how much like cherry that tastes."

She laughed, as he dripped a bit more on his finger, rubbing them together.

"Although, I will agree with the lubricant description. It's pretty slippery." He nodded.

She took his wrist, bringing his fingers to her mouth, and licking the lubricant. She felt her face scrunch up, at the artificial flavor, with the under taste of chemicals.
"Well, that's disappointing." She sighed. "They wouldn't let me taste it, before I bought it. And I didn't want you to think I had messed with it, or something."

"What it's lacking in flavor, it's definitely making up for in slipperiness. Not as nice as when you get wet for me, but it'll do the job, I guess." He announced, setting the bottle aside, and looking at her. "And you know those handcuffs will last maybe a minute."
"It'd be a good practice for me." She suggested. "Losing focus, without destroying all our toys in the process."

Steve folded his arms on the table, giving her a look. "You honestly think I'm okay with you splitting your focus from me, like that, when we're having sex? That I don't want your entire focus on me, and what's going on in that moment?"

"Well... I mean..." She paused, licking her lips, trying to put it into words. What she was trying to say. "I just want... to be able to not break everything. I want... I want to be able to keep the toys we like, around, after we play. When I was shopping, for the first time at Valentines Day, I didn't pay attention to the prices. Because I was so excited to get things for us to play with. But this time, I realized how much it costs to replace the items. We play hard, because of what we are. That's okay. But... I know you're concerned about money. Even though I still feel like you shouldn't be, given how much I make... and how much you could be making. But that aside, I know it's a concern of yours. So, I thought maybe... I could learn to be less... destructive of our... toys."
He continued to stare at her, his jaw flexing slightly, while a slight line formed on his forehead, before his face cleared up, and he reached up to rub at the thickening scruff on his jaw.
"Okay." He stated, before holding out his hand, as if asking her to pause. "I hear what you're saying. I hear it. But... I want you to know something."

She blinked as he lowered his hand, and took hers, before bringing his other hand over to cover it completely. "Steve?"
"I appreciate that you're trying to respect my concerns about money. But when it comes to our play, I'm not... I'm not putting a price tag on it." He smiled gently. "Besides, I don't think you quite realize all the plans I have for our new playroom, when we get back to New York. It's not just going to be a spanking bench, you know. Plus, we have to make sure it's as soundproof as we can make it, since I have no intention of ever allowing you to keep yourself quiet."

His grin grew and that dark little spark she loved so much grew in his eyes.
"Unless I'm gagging you, of course."

Brooklyn bit her lip, before accepting this. She nodded, and shifted her hand in his, until she was able to thread their fingers together, feeling the warm metal of his wedding ring pinch against her skin.

"So, if I wanted to get one of those hanging swing things?" She ventured.

"We can discuss it, yes." He agreed. "As long as I'm allowed to make sure it's completely safe, and that it's installed completely. It would piss me off, if we were in the middle of a session, and it pinched your leg, or you got tangled up in it. Or worse, it came undone and fell from the beam or ceiling or whatever we had it hanging from."

She focused on the slight irritation from the pinching caused by his ring, using it to focus on the conversation, rather than the images starting to flit through her imagination. "And if I wanted to purchase a Sybian? One of those riding machine things, with all the attachments?"
"I don't know what that is, but I'm willing to negotiate it, before it's purchased. But if it does what you're telling me, I'm already starting to get ideas." He grinned. "Im also starting to think I should get my own Kindle, to keep up with what you're reading, if you're coming up with such great ideas."
She laughed. "I can get you one! You'll love it! All these books at your fingertips! It's like carrying around an entire library in your pocket."

Steve smiled more. "I can get behind that. I always did like reading."

He looked up at the sky, before closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

"Not to change the subject..." He began, before opening his eyes and turning his head to look at her. "But I really do want to go on that hike. So, how about we clean up our mess, and change, and then head out?"
"Why do we need to change?" She frowned.

"Babydoll..." He grinned. "You need to have better shoes on, than your sandals."
She looked down at her feet, before rolling her eyes and nodding.

"I caught that." He sang, lightly, as he stood up and began collecting his presents, and the wrapping paper. "Do I need to start assigning a spank count, for an eye roll?"
"I'd never be able to sit down." She sighed, as she stood up to help him clean up, collecting the rest of the cake and their plates and cutlery. "I like rolling my eyes."

"Well, I like spanking you, so I think that's a wonderful compromise." He told her, heading for the RV. "You get to roll your eyes, and I get to spank you. I think this is my best idea, ever."
"That's like saying that the person who put blinding LED headlights in cars was a genius!" She protested, following him. "Oh, wait... was that Stark? That seems like a Stark thing. I can hear him now. 'Oh, these headlights are bright, but let's make them brighter! Fuck the person driving towards you! Blind them and make them nearly drive off the road!'"

Steve was laughing. "You've noticed that, have you?"
"It's hard to ignore, Steve." She told him as she stepped into the RV, heading for the kitchen area while he went into the bedroom. "If it wasn't for how high up we sit in the RV, I'm pretty sure we'd be feeling it different. And the fact that I'm pretty sure when we put on our high beams, we're borrowing pure sunlight, for as bright as it gets."

He continued to laugh, as he opened drawers and the closets. She assumed he was putting his gifts away, and she left him to it, as she plugged the sink, and began running water, intending to soak the dishes. Brooklyn figured they would be ready to be washed when they came back from this hiking idea Steve was caught up on.

Why the hell did he want to walk in the dark, in the forest, anyway? It seemed counterproductive, if the idea of a hike was to enjoy the sights of the forest. Even with their enhanced eyesight, nighttime was not the time to go tripping through an unfamiliar forest, far away from any of their backups.

But... it was his birthday, still. So, what the Birthday boy wanted, the Birthday boy got.

The sauce from the ribs was starting to harden on the plates, and she frowned, reaching for the sponge with the scrubby thing on the back. It wouldn't do for that to settle, even with a soak. She'd just do a quick scrub, to keep that from happening, then she'd encourage Steve to hurry it along for his hike. She didn't want to spend hours in the dark, in an unfamiliar forest.

"Brooklyn?" Steve called. "Can you come here?"
She rinsed the plate in her hand, pausing to squeeze out the sponge. "Just a minute. Let me finish up, here."

She put the plate on the draining rack, and set the sponge down, frowning at the remaining dishes, but rinsing her hands, before drying them. Turning off the water, she turned and went into the bedroom, pausing when she saw Steve sitting on the bed, dressed in jeans, a tee shirt, and hiking boots.
She frowned. Something about his belt was off. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was familiar, in a way that made her insides twinge a bit.

"Babydoll..." He began, before holding out his hand.

Brooklyn put hers in his, and let him pull her between his legs, reaching up to rest her hands on his shoulders. He exhaled heavily, resting his head on her sternum, between her breasts.

"Steve?" she asked, confused. "What's wrong?"

"I'm about to make a liar of myself." He told her, his voice grave.

She blinked, her confusion growing. "What do you mean? What did you lie about?"

His shoulder heaved under her hands slowly, as he took a deep breath.

"I told you, this morning, that I had no right to demand sexual favors from you, just because it's my birthday or because I'm your husband. And that's true." He began, before he cleared his throat, raising his head to meet her eyes. "But I want to request one. And I'm... worried, you'll take it the wrong way."

"But it's not anal?" She asked.
He huffed a laugh, his mouth turning up slightly. "No, it's not anal. But it might be just as... yeah."

Okay. She could handle this, she figured.

"Well, what is it? I thought you wanted to go for a hike. I mean, im not opposed to having sex first, but it might be a bit... uncomfortable, with the leakage, if we do it before." She nodded.

"Well, that's just it." He sighed. "I want to go on the hike and have sex in the woods. But... not like we..."

"Steve." She patted his shoulders. "Stop beating the bush and tell me."
"I want to chase you, in the woods. And when I find you... I want to take you. On the ground. In the dirt. And... unless you safe word, I don't want to stop." The words seemed to pour out of him, as if in a rush. As if saying them quickly would make it... easier, for her to understand.

The words pinged around in her head, before they sank in, and she blinked again, understanding.

"You want to chase me, and just... fuck, in the woods." She concluded.

"Well, it's a bit more than that." He sighed again. "Brooklyn... I don't... I want... I want to basically just... let go. If you fight me, fight me. But I don't want to stop, until we're both a sweaty, dirty mess, on the ground."

Brooklyn nodded. "Similar to what we did, at Barton's, right?"

"Yes. But... more. Like I said, unless you safe word, I'm not going to stop. Do you understand?" He reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, his face earnest. "Do you know what that means?"

She shook her head. Because she didn't. And she vocalized that, with the request, "Explain it to me, please?"
She felt his shoulders tense.

"It means, even if you scream at me to stop, I won't. If you claw at me, bite me, hit at me, I am not stopping." Steve licked his lips. "When you run, and I chase you, it will be with the express purpose of hunting you down, and fucking you as hard and as much as I want. It'll be... Brooklyn, it'll be about me. What I want. In fact, I want you to bite, and claw, and hit at me. I want you to fight me."

The images of what he was describing, requesting, formed, and she had a startling moment of clarity.

"OH!" she gasped, before nodding. "Oh, I think I got it. You want to... what's the phrase... I've read about this in some of the books... Primal play!"
Now it was Steve's turn to be confused. "What?"
"Well, I think... yeah, primal play. With a bit of con-non-con?" She nodded again, patting his shoulders. "I think we can do that. Yes."

He looked stunned. "How-"
She slapped a hand over his mouth. "I read, Steve. Not everything on my Kindle is classic's and New York Time's Bestseller list. There's a lot of dirty books on there, too, remember? You want to chase me, in the dark, through the woods, and... not exactly force me, but... play force me. Right?"

He nodded under her hand, his eyes apologetic.

"And I'm guessing this is why you've been somewhat distracted, today, right? Because you want this, and you feel you shouldn't ask for it. Either because it's 'not right', or because of my past, right?"

He nodded again.
"Okay, well, first off... we've already kind of... toed this line, a little. A bit. Enough that I'm comfortable with exploring this with you. And I have an out. I can safe word. And if I safe word, you'll stop, right?"

Steve's head bobbed.

"So, I don't see an issue with this." She shrugged. "I mean, I would rather do it now, this early in our marriage, than have this fester in the back of your head, only for it to get bigger, and bigger, and bigger, and eventually become this dark, dirty little secret you think you have to hide from me, because you don't think I can handle it."

She lifted her hand, and bent down, kissing quickly.

"I want it. But at the same time, I feel like I shouldn't." He explained, slowly.

"Because it's not normal, right?" She kissed him again. "It treads too closely to the 'r' word, right?"

His eyes closed, looking a little pained.

"Well, first issue. It's not that, if I've agreed to it, and we both agree to the use of the safe word. Right?"

His eyes snapped open, shock in them.

"We've agreed to that. I enjoyed what we did at Barton's. A lot, really. I would not be adverse to doing that again. And that is what, I believe, is commonly referred to as Primal play." She grinned. "And you know my opinion on having you be a little darker with me. Little less civilized. More... animal. I can see this being a good way for that to happen. And really, what's the difference between this and you beating my ass damn near black and blue with a belt?"

"I just worry that sometimes, I'm... pulling you in directions that maybe I shouldn't be." He confessed. "I want you to want it, yes. But at the same time, I worry-"
"You worry that my inexperience is letting you get away with murder, so to speak." She concluded. "Okay, yeah, I'll allow that one. But if you don't show me, tell me, let me experience, that inexperience is always gonna be there. And trust me, I have a few ideas of my own, too."

He looked intrigued. "Are you gonna share those ideas with me?"
"Not right now. We're focusing on the conversation at hand, Steve." She reminded, before kissing him again. "My safe word is shield. Now, do you want to go for your hike, or not? If not, I want to get back to the dishes, before that barbeque sauce becomes a headache."

He stared at her, his face changing to disbelief.

"You're serious? You're really okay with us doing this?" He was apparently still not hearing her.

She was going to have to change that.
"Steve, I want to go on a hike with you, and when we get to a spot you feel we're safe enough to be uninterrupted, I want you to chase me, while I fight you, and if you win... you can fuck me how ever you want. How ever hard you want. How ever... animal, that you want." She grinned, the excitement of it starting to make her feel a bit bubbly. "In fact, I kinda really want it, now. Besides. It's your birthday, right? Birthday boy gets what the birthday boy wants. And if it just so happens to be what I want... even better, right?"

Steve stood up, smiling, before lifting her in his arms, and kissing her deeply. She responded with as much enthusiasm as she could, her hands coming up to cup the back of his head, letting him support her full weight.

In fact, now that she had much more time to think about it, she was damn right excited to engage in this type of play. Maybe this way, he could see that all that darkness he thought she shouldn't see wasn't so bad. That unlocking the animal he had in him wasn't a sin. That maybe, just maybe, he would learn to be okay with all of himself. In reality, him asking her to play with him like this meant that maybe those pesky moralities of his that she found so annoying might be loosening a little.

If she'd been on her feet, she might have done a little tippy tappy happy dance.

He slowly lowered her, apparently reluctant to end their kiss, as even as her feel touched the ground, his lips were still on hers.

With a giggle, she pulled away.

"Steve... we're burning daylight." She reminded him, with a huge smile, her hands leaving his head to run down his chest.

"The sun has gone down far enough for me, already." He told her. "The things we're about to do? They're better kept in the dark."

"Well, then... we still need to start hiking." She patted his chest.

He nodded, before stepping back, putting space between them.

Space was probably a good thing, she realized. If they kept touching, if they kept kissing, if they kept pressing against each other...there was probably not going be to a hike until much, much later. At which point, they wouldn't know where they were going, and even with their very good eyesight, they could get lost.

And wouldn't that be a fine kettle of fish, if they went out after dark, to play their games, only to get lost, and have to call for help.

That for sure would be all over the damn news.

"Captain America rescued on birthday, after being lost in a national park for so many hours!"
Junior would never let him hear the end of it. Hell, Brooklyn would hold it over his head for the rest of their marriage.

Steve licked his lips, glancing at the bed. "I chose some clothing for you."

She turned to look, her eyes going wide.
"It's a dress. And skimpy underthings." She felt like pointing out. "That's not exactly the right clothing to go hiking in. When you suggested we change our clothing, I figured it would be appropriate for hiking. You know. Shorts, maybe. Boots?"
"I know, and yes, you'll be wearing boots. But give me this, too?" He reached out, settling behind her, his arms wrapping around her. "It's part of..."
Ah. She got it.
"It's part of the rest of it. Part of the play. You don't want to unwrap your present, you want to tear the wrapping clean off." She teased him. "You want to be an impatient boy."

"Oh, I'm gonna smack that ass hard." He promised lowly, and she felt a shiver pass through her.

"Promise?" she tilted her head back, grinning at him.

***

They hiked for the better part of two hours before he stopped.
In that time, the sun had completely faded, and the darkness had settled. There was an eerie quality to the forest as it happened. It had already been considerably darker when they left their RV, heading along one of the marked trails. The atmosphere continued, as the animals around them settled, and the nocturnal sounds began.

They went fairly into the forest following the trails, until he gave her a look and stepped off the marked trail. She didn't comment, simply following him.

The unspoken agreement that they needed as much privacy as possible, to do what they intended. And that definitely meant they were going to have go far off the beaten tracks.

By the time he brought them to a stop, she was of two minds, though.

The hike had been enough time for her to consider things.

First off, she was going to kick his ass for having her do this in a dress. The rubbing of her thighs was annoying as shit, and honestly the cut of the lace panties were rubbing harder than she would have thought. Basically, her thighs, hips, ass, and the crease between her thighs and cunt were raw and sore, irritated, and wet.

Men could be so impractical, when it came to clothing. She'd known it the first few weeks working at Tassels. There were so many times, she would put on an outfit, and know...just know, it was designed by a man, given how it felt or pressed into the skin and body. Yeah, it looked good, so it did the job, but if she did a trick on the pole, or moved a certain way it was an annoyance that had to be pushed aside to continue dancing. Even heels were almost proof of this.
Basically, it' all led up to, when it came to clothing the female body, men were idiots. And her idiot had proven to be no different.

But at the same time, despite the irritation with the clothing and the chafing, she was excited

Because yes, she was irritated, but she had to figure this was one of the longest forms of foreplay he had ever done with her, yet.

Almost two hours of barely speaking, while all the while knowing what was ahead of her. She had spent it, pre planning what she might do, or how she might react. How she was going to give him a hell of a chase, before she might allow him to catch her.

Steve had all but outright challenged her.

A chase? With full permission to fight back if he got close enough? Hell, forget permission, he was asking for it. Begging for it.

So, Brooklyn was going to give him as good as she got.

He wanted a fight? She was going to give him one.
He wanted a chase? She was going to lead him on a merry one.

He wanted to fuck her into the ground, not stopping until they were both cum drunk?

Brooklyn was going to make him work for it.

She waited, planning, while he took a long look around, his hands on his hips, before he nodded. Turning to her, he took a deep breath, stepping close, reaching up to cup her cheek.

"You still okay with this?" He asked. "We can turn around and go home, right now. No shame. I won't be disappointed."

She let out a laugh. "Oh, that's a lie. You've asked for nothing for your birthday, except this. I'm sure if I chickened out, a little bit of disappointment would be felt."

He smiled back, a little sheepish. "Yeah. There would be a little. But I'd be completely understanding. This is a big ask."
"Not as big as you're making it out to be." She scolded him lightly. "I would have said no, when you asked, back at the RV, if it was. I agreed, Steve. And I want to, as well."

Steve kept his eyes on hers, as if trying to read her. She kept her expression open, reaching up to place her fingers on his wrist, waiting for him to accept what she was offering. Waiting for him to take the opportunity he had requested from her.

"This might hurt." He warned slowly.

"It might." She agreed. "It might hurt both of us."

He nodded slowly. "You know I love you. I love you so much, Babydoll. You're my wife. You're my future. You're everything I've ever wanted."
"I know this." She smiled, turning her head enough to kiss the base of his thumb. "You belong to me. You're mine. My husband."

"I am. I am yours. You are mine. I love you. Thank you for this." He exhaled, bending his head to kiss her slowly.

"I'm not going to make this easy on you." She warned, as the kiss ended. "It wouldn't be authentic, if I did that. Besides, you can't challenge me and expect me to back down."
"I know." He smiled, before meeting her eyes intently, and she could see the darkness start to enter his bright blue eyes. "Now...I'm giving you five minutes."
He pulled his hand away, stepping back, putting his hands on his hips.
"I suggest you use them wisely. Run."

She gave him a bright smile, before turning on her heel, and heading deeper into the forest.

A/N: Buckle up!
Happy New Year!
Hopefully this chapter finds you all well. I wish you all a prosperous coming year, and all the good health you would ever need.
Comments and votes are always appreciated!