" How about Jasmine?"

"Nope."

"Matthew?"

"Nope."

"Rachel?"

"Nope."

"Brent?"

You watched as Steve sighed, shaking his head.

"You know we might be able to pick a name faster if you suggest names too." You mumbled, crumbling the list of names in your hand and tossing it in the pile of recycling. "Unless you're suggesting we name our baby Nope."

Steve ignored you, his eyes remaining fixed on the assembly instructions for the crib you had ordered so you continued to rant on.

"It's like Hope but with an N. I can see it now. One day she's little baby Nope, then the next it's Nope you just wait until your father comes home!"

Steve finally cracked, a small smile appearing on his lips as he stood up from his spot on the floor.

"One thing at a time, sweetheart. One thing at a time." He said, kissing the top of your head and then rolling the crib against the wall. Taking a few steps back, he crossed his arms over his chest assessing his handy-work. "I wonder what all those extra screws were for. Hope they weren't important."

"What!" You screeched, reaching over the pile of abandoned parts for the instructions.

"Relax, they're just spares." He chuckled, walking over to where you were still sitting on the floor. Bending down he moved the instructions from your hands and pulled you into a standing position. "You think you're the only one with a little sarcasm around here? I was raised in Brooklyn."

You huffed a little, the panicked visions of the crib coming apart with your baby falling to the floor fresh in your mind as he pulled you into a hug. His chin was resting on the top of your head as you buried your face in his chest, enjoying the closeness. You could've stayed like this for eternity and still it would never be enough.

"We're going to come up with something great. When the right name hits us, we'll know."

When he went to move away you just held onto him tighter, not ready to let him go. You had spent the last few months doing nothing but preparing for your baby but the whole prospect of actually being a mother still scared you deeply. It was moments like these that give you peace. Knowing that you had a partner to parent with, someone that understood exactly how it felt to be completely terrified and extremely excited for parenthood all at the same time kept your nerves low. This wasn't a step you had ever imagined taking this early on in your life but now that it was happening it felt right, as if this had been what was meant to happen all along.

The door bell rang, causing you to jump slightly. You walked out of the almost finished nursery, heading straight for the front door that had now been rung a second time and pulling the door open.

"Jesus, you got huge!"

Nat elbowed Sam in the stomach.

"You know that's probably one of the worst things you could possibly say to a woman." She glared at the man next to her pointedly making you laugh.

"Even a pregnant one?" Sam asked, as Nat came through the door, giving you a quick hug.

"Yes Sam, especially a pregnant one." You teased, laughing at the slightly ashamed look on his face before giving him a hug as well.

You ushered them inside, taking their coats and hanging them in the closet by the door. When you lead them down the hall Steve greeted them happily, quickly pulling three beers from the fridge and a lemonade for you. In no time you were all sitting in the living room, you curled up on the couch next to Steve, Sam and Nat in the armchairs across.

"The place looks great." Nat said, looking around the living room. Two weeks had passed since you had moved out of the tower and into your new apartment. It had taken almost that long to set up the space but you were happy with how it had come out. It felt much homier than the tower had, even at its best and you were completely falling in love with your new neighborhood. You hadn't ever spent much time in the upper east side before but now that you were there you never wanted to leave. A bookstore and coffee shop on every corner and close proximity to Central Park? What else could a girl ask for?

The space wasn't huge but it was still more than enough space for the two of you and it had a small bedroom the perfect size for a baby. Your mom had come to visit it once. You had seen the distaste in her eyes when she realized the apartment only had room for one shower. The horror. Fortunately, Steve hadn't been around to see the displeased look on her face when you had informed her Steve lived at the apartment with you. She had pretended to be supportive but you knew the signs all to well to believe that she wasn't upset about the return of Steve to your life in this capacity. The disdained glances around the apartment, the pursed lips at the mention of his name... you would have thought you had moved into a shoebox or that Steve was an unemployed drug addict. Her disapproval weighed on you. You'd be lying if you said otherwise. Then again sometimes you didn't like the choices she made either. Maybe that's all that family really is, sticking by someone even when you are disappointed in them.

Thankfully, the issue of Nat teaching you how to stay off the grid without telling Steve had been quickly resolved the week before. You hadn't been there to witness it in person as you hadn't set foot in the tower since but you'd been told that Steve had pretended to be upset with her and listened to her apologize profusely for five minutes until he cracked a smile. Apparently she had retaliated by smacking him on the back of his head. Then the two had hugged it out and moved forward. If only all disputes could be settled so easily. You wondered if it was some sort of superhero resolution formula. One apology plus one smack divided by one hug equals two happy avengers.

"I can't take too much of the credit." Steve said, wrapping an arm over your shoulders. "All I did was move some furniture and hang up the curtains. The rest was all (Y/n)."

"He's just being a modest. Although I will admit you were no help with setting up the wifi router." You teased, swirling the drink around in your glass. "If I'm remembering correctly I had to take over just to detangle the mess of wires and fix the stupid, no-good, damned, broken internet box."

"She's paraphrasing." Steve retorted looking playfully offended as Nat and Sam continued to laugh, giving your arm a light pinch in retaliation.

"I still can't believe you actually moved out of the tower and took time off of work." Sam said, taking a swig of his beer. "You're a changed man Rogers."

"I haven't changed." Steve replied indignantly, giving your arm a tight squeeze and pulling you closer. "I've just got some new priorities."

You smiled. Actually no, beamed is probably a more accurate description.

"I can see that." He said smirking in your direction. You held in the temptation to flip him off, having not forgotten the fact that he called you huge earlier.

"So are we the first ones to see the new place?" He asked, using his bottle to motion between himself and Nat. "Or did Peter beat us to it? Nosy little weasel always has to beat me to the punch."

The first awkward silence of the evening fell over the group. Steve was glaring at Sam who was still grinning completely oblivious. Nat was looking at you sympathetically.

"No uh- he hasn't been here." You answered in a slightly quieter, almost unfamiliar voice, looking down at your lap.

Steve had tried to broach this subject a few times in the past two weeks. You knew he was angry about the things Peter had said but you had told him that by no means did you want him talking to Peter about anything having to do with you. As far as you were concerned the matter was settled. Peter had never wanted to be your friend and only pretended to be one until he was sure you'd never spill his secret. Case closed, court adjourned. There was no point in Steve getting more involved than he already was, that was just going to make his job more difficult. At least that's what you told Steve.

The truth was not a day had passed since you had moved out of the tower that you hadn't thought about Peter. It wasn't a constant but it was there in other small but painful ways. Sometimes you even pulled out your phone to text him on instinct before remembering that he was no longer someone who wanted texts from you. You'd think maybe you could text someone else what you had wanted to text Peter but they wouldn't understand the way Peter would have so it just wasn't worth it. Each time you would grab your phone to message the sting of the realization would hit you in full force. You hoped that the feeling might go away. It didn't. On the tenth time you had done this you deleted his contact from your phone, hoping that by some miracle this might be able to break that habit. It hadn't.

After two weeks of doing everything you could to keep yourself busy, and your headspace occupied with other things, the true reason for the heaviness of the loss dawned on you. This loss was ambiguous. You were grieving, mourning for the friendship of a person who was still alive, walking around most likely unchanged and unaffected. Losing a living best friend is like watching a Polaroid fade in reverse. Some part of you prays things would just go back to normal, while the other part is coming to terms with the fact that the picture perfect image you're trying to cling to is slowly disappearing, fading to an empty black. Some part of your story with them would always feel unfinished. Your roads may have diverged but there was no telling if they might meet again someday. That alone made closure about the state of your once friendship unreachable, even unattainable. You could only hope that at some point when you thought of him, his absence would hurt a little less until maybe one day you wouldn't think of him at all anymore.

"So Sam, Stark was telling me he made some modifications to Red Wing." Steve said, breaking the silence. Sam immediately launched into a long discussion of the pros and cons of wind density making Nat roll her eyes. You turned slightly to give Steve what you hoped was a grateful expression, thanking him for changing the topic. He gave your shoulder a quick squeeze in response and you knew he had understood.

The rest of the evening passed smoothly and all too quickly. Steve had shown off his most recent handy work building the crib, we had all laughed at Sam's uncanny impersonation of Thor and soon drinks were finished and eyes were tired. Before you knew it you were back at the front door, handing them both their coats.

"I'll walk you both out, I was going to make a quick trip to the grocery store." Steve said, putting on his jacket as well..

You all said your goodbyes, promising you would see them soon and letting them know they were welcome in your home anytime. Steve gave your cheek a quick kiss, saying he'd be home in half an hour then followed Nat and Sam out the door. You closed it shut, locking it and started to walk back towards the living room.

You were smiling again. You could tell because your cheeks had begun to feel tight and tired, exhausted after a long day of friendship and family. You couldn't help but feel more and more grateful that out of all the men that could have sat beside you at the bar, it had been him. If it was possible you loved him a little more each day. You kept waiting for it to plateau, thinking that one day your feelings would stay the same but they only kept growing. His touch still sent waves of comfort through your body, his kisses still gave you butterflies. All it took was a simple I love you, and you'd be grinning like an idiot for the next few hours. It felt like you had found some magical land where you could live in the honeymoon phase forever.

The sound of the doorbell rang again. You chuckled, figuring Steve must have forgotten his keys and gotten locked out again, a habit he had trouble breaking since moving into the new building. You unlocked the door swinging it open without looking through the peep hole, only it wasn't Steve. An unfamiliar man in a grey suit was standing there looking back at you.

"Can I help you?" You asked. The man opened his briefcase pulling out a large orange envelope.

"I was told to deliver this to this address." He said handing it to you. You glanced down at the envelope, seeing it was addressed to Mr. Steve Rogers and Ms. (Y/n) (L/n).

You thanked the man, heading back inside to sit at the kitchen table. Bending the metal tabs at the top of the envelope, you pulled out a large stack of papers. A yellow post-it note was on the front with a message written in a scribbled cursive.

My lawyers have updated the contract below with the revisions we discussed. Let me know if you have any questions. -T