Living as a wanted criminal is no easy task, but if America Rogers knows one thing, it's how to run. She, Steve, Sam, and Nat begin new lives as vigilantes, traveling all around the world but never settling for long.
Even though they're evading the...
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AMERICA'S POV
"A little to the left... a little more... okay, perfect!"
"Ow!"
"Are you okay?"
"No! You just dropped the couch on my foot, Steven," I groan. "Help me pick this up, come on."
Steve comes to my aid and we manage to haul the new couch off of my toes to where it's supposed to be.
"Better?" He asks playfully.
"Yes. Thank goodness Captain America was here to rescue my poor foot. The very same foot said superhero dropped a couch on. Way to rescue the damsel. A+ effort."
He shrugs, not even defending himself. "Hey, it's been a week. I'm already rusty."
I raise my hand to slap him playfully but he catches it and kisses my knuckles. We've been moving furniture all afternoon and there are still boxes everywhere. Standing in the middle of it all, I find myself loving my husband more than ever.
"So, this is what it's like to be a grown-up," I say.
"Mer, you're thirty-three."
I make a face at him. "You're over one hundred."
"Fair enough," he says, grinning. "I'll order a pizza and we can break for dinner."
"Good. My foot needs time to recover."
"Shut up, doll."
I fake gasp. "Captain! Show some respect to a lady!"
"You guys really are the most throw-up-in-your-mouth-cute couple I know." Bucky stands in the doorway, smirking. Anna walks in behind him. "You both forgot we were coming over to help, didn't you?"
"Maybe," Steve says, grinning. "It's still nice to see you guys. Buck, want to help me with moving some of the bigger stuff?"
"Sure."
The two of them head out to the driveway to unload the van, leaving Anna and me behind in the mostly-finished living room. We begin to unpack the smaller boxes, which are full of decorations and picture frames from over the years. I find the gilded mirror from my dingy apartment in New York. I didn't even know I still had that. It feels like so long ago. Anna holds up a scrapbook.
"What's this?"
I laugh and take it from her. "I'm too sentimental for my own good. Here, look at this."
Inside, it's full of pictures of the countries we visited in those two years. Because even though we were on the run, I loved seeing new places for the first time. Each page is full of at least one photo and the ticket we used to get there. The only exception is Italy, where I left a blank page.
