Someone was watching me, I could feel it.

I stirred lightly, subtly picking my head up off the pillow. I let out a breath through my nostrils. There was no threat to be found here. Although, I could say that I was slightly annoyed.

Steve had pulled up a chair near the bed, his head bent in concentration as the pencil etched across the pad he had in his lap. I'd never seen him do this before.

Curious, I stretched a little bit, adjusting myself. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" I asked sleepily.

The pencil almost jumped out of Steve's hand. He picked his head up. "Sketching," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Sketching what?"

"You. You moved, by the way."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Sorry. If I had known you were drawing me, I would've slept a little more. Although...I'm not sure whether to be flattered or disturbed by you sitting near the bed like that." To annoy him a bit more, I slid up, having my legs dangle over the side of the bed. "Can I see?"

"It's not finished."

"That gives me a reason to not look?" I started for the pad.

"Humor me, Kiara, and don't. Please?"

I sighed dramatically. "Fine. But I want to see the finished product."

"That I will let you see."

I got closer, rubbing those slight purple bags under Steve's eyes. "How long have you been at this?"

"Few hours. Hard to sleep. I needed something to occupy me."

"I'll say." I rubbed his cheek gently. "And here the only reason we're living together is because you wanted to keep an eye on me."

Yes, that was correct. Steve and I were living together. We had been for almost two years now. Insane, right?

Not so insane when you considered all that had happened to us: from our Avenger recruitment, to dealing with a shady ex S.H.I.E.L.D. agent by the name of Seth Joyce. It didn't feel as though over a year and a half had passed since the incident with Seth and his insane (and deceased) partner, Kasey Clark.

To think, our relationship started with being recruited by the late Agent Phil Coulson. I could bet my life that he would've had a field day with this development.

Why was it just Steve and me? Where was Todd in this scenario? Well, since my best friend was now officially a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, he was dedicating his time to his new position rather than our apartment in New York. I had been its sole occupant for a long time, with Steve on occasion. It was his idea for us to move in together.

Now, we're in Washington, D.C., in our own little apartment complex. It wasn't much of a move except state wise. D.C. was a busy place, but it would never top New York's lively hum.

"Even Todd thought it was a good idea," Steve noted.

Right, because those two were the top two who were always concerned about my wellbeing and my mental state. It wasn't that either of them didn't believe I could handle my own; they wanted someone nearby in case something happened, like I had a nightmare or a psychotic break.

Okay, so maybe this pointed to them both not thinking I was capable of handling my own.

"If he came home more often, I wouldn't have moved out," I said. "But since he's up to his eyes in field work..."

"Well, hey, you've got me." Steve offered me a timid smile.

"Yeah, I do." I ruffled his already-mussed blond hair.

"Besides, he would've pushed for this anyway. Sometimes we suffocate him with being the third wheel."

I shrugged. "I personally thought he never had a problem with us being together."

"He doesn't, Kiara."

"Hmm, maybe he'll luck out and find someone down the line."

"It was luck on our part that we got together."

I snorted. "I could've just stayed in New York with Tony."

"What, you don't like the change in scenery?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then you wouldn't have gotten a place with me. I don't know about you, but, I wouldn't want to be together at Stark's place. Not with all his teasing and names and whatnot."

"It's his way of saying 'I love you.' We're friends after all." I looked at Steve with puppy-like eyes. "You know, sleep does help."

"You know I don't sleep well."

I frowned slightly. When we shared a bed together for the first few times (no, no intercourse), he didn't sleep like a normal being. He was as straight as a plank of wood, barely moving. The only thing that moved about him was his chest and nostrils. Maybe the occasional twitch of his body. He never turned on his side or tossed, he remained pole-straight. "Maybe if you stopped sleeping how you do, you might," I teased carefully.

"I just got used to it." He shrugged. He pulled my hand down from his face. "Hey, want to spend a day out?"

I cocked my head. "Where would we go?"

"I've got a place in mind."

I chuckled. "This wouldn't happen to be the Smithsonian, would it?"

"Lucky guess?"

"You don't need me to go with you to relive your glory days. I can go visit on my own time."

"Which you have yet to do."

"I don't get how you think having an exhibit is a good thing. It feels like your life is exposed at the public's disposal."

"Isn't it already, without the exhibit?" He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Fair point," I considered thoughtfully. "Alright, I'll go with you." I crossed behind him, throwing my arms over his shoulders.

Steve covered the pad with both of his arms. "Nice try, Kiara," he said.

I patted his chest with both hands. "Can't say that I didn't try."

* * *

I had to laugh. While I was out in the open, Steve had a "disguise". And by disguise, I meant a ball cap. Surprisingly, no glasses.

The Smithsonian was, as expected, packed. The Captain America exhibit was even more so. This seemed to be family-oriented type of exhibit, so you could imagine how many little kids were running around. A few times they bumped into us. And the one thing I realized about kids was that they could see through even the lamest of disguises—for example, Steve's.

But, the other thing I realized about little kids was that they were willing to keep their superhero sighting a secret. That was how Steve and I blended in with the visitors in the Smithsonian so well, all thanks to the secrecy of children. They knew to hush when it counted.

There was a replica of Steve's motorcycle, and a wall dedicated to the Howling Commandos, an elite group he'd led back in the 1940s. I kept by his side, glancing every so often at his face. There wasn't a haunted look until we reached a memorial.

Just the way Steve's eyes lost their light a bit at James Barnes' memorial told me the guy had meant something to him. That was even before I read the bit about him. Those two had been best friends. Unfortunately, Barnes hadn't survived the war.

I twined my fingers through Steve's, squeezing in support. I knew what loss felt like. Granted, the loss had been a fake death, but it still counted. Wait, I'm forgetting Coulson. I felt my heart get shot at the reminder of Agent Phil Coulson. His death hadn't been fake, and I couldn't have done anything to prevent it.

I wondered if Steve had witnessed James'.

"Come on," I said gently. I tugged, but I let Steve linger a few more moments before he pulled himself away.

We went through more of the exhibit, and I felt a sense of awkward fall over me. We'd arrive at the section on Peggy Carter, Steve's first love. Even though there was video and not the real thing, I felt like Steve needed a private moment in this part of the exhibit.

"She's beautiful," I whispered. Peggy Carter had well-groomed hair, and eyes full of fierce determination. She held herself well. It was uncommon, probably, back then for a woman to be involved in any sort of military involvement. I'd bet she'd done something to earn her spot, even if most frowned upon it.

Even though I had yet to meet her, I respected Peggy Carter.

"You never brought up the search for her since we last spoke about it," I told Steve softly. "If you still want to, we can." At this, he met my eyes with mild surprise. "She was part of your life. If she's still around, I'm sure you'll give her a nice surprise. You haven't aged since she saw you last, probably."

"I know she's still around, we would've heard something by now if she wasn't." He cleared his throat.

"Come on." I pulled on his arm gently again. "I think if we stick around much longer, I'll lose you to your past."

* * *

"If you weren't Captain America, you could've made a fortune as an artist," I said later in the night. Steve had finished drawing after I had taken a nap once we got back from the Smithsonian. The detail was amazing, and the shading. It looked so realistic that I almost believed I was looking at a photograph instead of a drawing.

I sat cross-legged on the bed, trying to not touch the picture and smudge the piece.

"Maybe," Steve said absently as he closed the blinds on the only window in the bedroom.

"You ever think of what would've happened had you not become...this?" I gestured to him.

"Haven't given much thought to it." He moved around the bed to climb onto the right side. I took the left side, I'd claimed it the first night we'd stayed in here together.

"You need to show me how to draw like this." I looked at him, then back at the picture. "This is amazing, Steve. This is a gift." A pause. "So, uh, how did the search go?"

"I found her. She's in a retirement home." He'd looked into finding Peggy the second we'd gotten back from the Smithsonian.

"That's good. Well, not good, but..." I sighed. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I'll try and see her in a few days."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"That depends on you."

"I don't know." I rubbed my head. "That's something I'm not sure I should intrude on."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"I was being nice," I retorted playfully. I handed the drawing back to Steve. "Are you going to try and sleep?" I flicked off the lamplight near the bed.

"You know it won't work."

I sighed in the dark before producing a small flame on one of my fingers. "Just try, Steve. For yourself and for me." Ever since the whole incident with Seth Joyce and my powers shorting out, they'd leveled out. I hadn't had any problems since. I was back in control of my powers, and it felt good.

"I'll try harder if you put that out." The small light bounced off of Steve's figure in the dark.

I extinguished the flame. "Better?" I put myself under the covers.

For a while, I was the sleepless one. I kept playing with the small flame on my finger, keeping it dim enough so that it wouldn't disrupt Steve's sleep attempt. I blew it out quickly when I heard him shift behind me.

I nearly jumped when I felt an arm come over my side. I sighed quietly in relief. There you go.

I heard that.

It wasn't meant for you to hear.

Well, I did.

You're trying to sleep, so shush. I burrowed myself closer to him, grabbing his hand, keeping it close to my chest.

When I heard Steve's even breathing, I knew I didn't have to worry about him for the rest of the night.

**So, not an action-packed start. Had to have a little fluffy Stiara. 

Besides, with what's gonna happen, you're gonna wish that there's sunshine and rainbows.

Trust me, I wanted it back when I got deeper into the story.

Oh, and, yeah, if you're going by the movie, I know, Steve doesn't visit the Smithsonian until after the whole mission with Tasha and whatnot. Figured I'd do a little creative license and move that bit around, for Stiara's sake, you know?**