Warnings for part 3: angst, language, smidge of smut that gets interrupted, faked pregnancy, a fluffy ending (I've made them suffer enough).

W/C part 3: 6.1k

Characters part 3: Sam Wilson, OFC(s), Maria Hill, Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, other OC(s).

Sam had been absent for forty minutes and although Skylar didn't necessarily want to, she needed to find him to talk. But she knew if she announced she was going to look for him, Gabby would want to tag along, because god forbid he be talking to a celebrity she could be introduced to. Which she'd been adamant was the case for the last five minutes.

"Mr Rogers," said Mason smiling brightly after Skylar discreetly asked for his assistance in slipping away. "Would you be able to give us a tour of this spectacular building?"

"That's a great idea," Nat agreed, offering Gabby a hand off the tall bar stool. "You'll get to see how you'll be living soon," she grinned as if the idea excited her. "Skylar care to join us?"

For a trained assassin Skylar figured Nat would understand the need to be discreet but the smirk she flashed was suggestive and smug. Or perhaps it seemed that way because Skylar understood Nat knew the game Mason was playing.

"I'm gonna go find Mike," Skylar declined the offer. "Catch up with him."

Steve winked and it was clear he was playing the game too. Again, maybe it was his training, but he jerked his head toward the back of the room and provided the subtle information she'd need. "I think I saw him taking a tour when I came back from the bathroom. Eighty-third floor maybe. I'll tell security to let you through."

Skylar smiled and mouthed a 'thank you' before Steve followed Nat leading Mason and Gabby in the opposite direction.

Getting past security and to the eighty-third floor had been easy. Walking through the door to the balcony Sam stood on proved difficult. Thanks to Tony's preference for glass - she suspected it was more of a vanity thing, he liked people to watch a genius at work - she had an unobstructed view of Sam with his head raised slightly, staring up at the half-moon.

She took a deep, centering breath and pushed the door open. The sound pulled Sam's attention from the stars, and he turned with a scowl as if preparing to reprimand whoever had intruded his moment of solitude.

"Cap I told you I'm…"

The sentence died on his lips, and the scowl lasted milliseconds before it smoothed into an appreciative grin as he raked his eyes up and down her body before landing on her eyes again.

Skylar chuckled despite her cheerless mood and walked to stand beside him. "That face right there," her index finger a hair-breadth from his nose, "is the exact same face you had when you saw me on prom night."

He laughed and turned back to the moon, heaving a weary sigh. "Can't imagine tonight is gonna end the same."

She couldn't imagine it either, but what use was it to say it out loud that the one night they'd shared together, that she had had hopes of repeating, was never going to happen because everything had changed? So she didn't, she stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and took in the breathtaking view of New York.

The shape of the building allowed her to see the party going on two levels below them and she wondered exactly where Nat and Steve were and how long, feasibly, they could keep Gabby from going in search of Sam. Though, keeping Gabby away would be pointless if neither of them spoke. Which neither of them did for a few minutes, lost in their own heads.

Sam broke the silence. "Ever miss the days we'd talk to the moon for hours?"

"All the time."

"Damn sure was simpler back then."

She scoffed. That was the understatement of the century. Life made sense back then. Even though, at the time, she didn't think there was a possibility their relationship would ever be more than platonic, she accepted it. She had believed her feelings weren't reciprocated, and it was a hard pill to swallow, but she dealt with it. Having the memory of their encounter, and having Sam in her life - in any capacity - had been enough.

But now she knew different. Now she understood the feelings she had were shared, that they would have had endless possibilities if they hadn't wasted so much time, if they both had taken the leap a long time ago.

"What I wouldn't give for simple." The anger bubbled like the champagne she'd been drinking and spilled over the edge of her control. She couldn't hold her tongue any more. "Congratulations on the engagement by the way."

"Congrats on the promotion," Sam countered with just as much sarcasm and they both turned to glare at each other.

Her chest heaved as she tried to calm herself down, though she wanted to scream in his face that she'd partly accepted just to get out of his way. To make his life easier. But she thought better of it, the last thing they needed to do was have a full blown pissing match in the glassbox for everyone below to see should they choose to pull their heads out of their proteinous asses and look up.

"I shouldn't have come up here," she declared, turning on her heel but not making it a full step before Sam grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"Please just hear me out," he pleaded, releasing her arm. "You've been duckin' my calls for days. I just want to talk."

"This isn't the place to do this," she said, flicking her eyes to the party below.

"Jarvis, privacy."

"Of course, Mr. Wilson." As the AI replied, the glass around them faded to a darker shade.

She could still see the moon and party-goers below but they looked as if they had been greyed out. She strolled to the edge to touch the glass and a ripple appeared under her finger as if she'd pressed too hard on a computer screen, but the fogged pane remained.

"No one can see us, but we can see them."

She wasn't sure if she thought it was a cool trick or if it worried her because now it meant it was just her and Sam. No escape from the pending confrontation.

"You have to know this isn't what I want."

"What?" she asked, spinning to look at him, the anger still evident in her tone. "The baby or the engagement?"

"All of it! Including fighting with you."

Skylar sighed heavily, surrendering. "I don't want to fight, either."

"So let me explain."

"I know how engagements work, Sam, I don't need a lesson."

"You wanna be a smart ass, or you wanna hear the plan?"

She contemplated the answer for a second but finally gave in. "Natasha's plan?"

He nodded and explained, "Nat did some digging and we're ninety-nine percent sure there is no baby, or if there is, it's not mine. But we gotta play it close," he cautioned, moving to stand next to her, "keep Gabby sweet so she doesn't go running her mouth to the press before we can prove it. Keep the damage minimal or avoid it altogether."

Skylar listened to the strategy Natasha had concocted. Gabby was scheduled for a doctor's appointment in four days. Tony had been kind enough to provide Sam with a list of specialist doctors, and with the guise of Sam not wanting anything but the best for his baby. Gabby had agreed to use them, as she thought it was a sweet gesture. Sam admitted the engagement was his idea, wanting to prove - or rather fake - his loyalty to her. But they would wait a few weeks before announcing it to the world. Maria had been introduced as the Avengers PR officer, and her whole speech on putting Gabby into protective custody had been bullshit. Obviously security measures were taken to protect family members but they were allowed to go about their lives accordingly.

"You didn't choose the life we lead, y'know," shrugged Sam. "Why should you have to sacrifice the life you've built because of my choices?"

She gave him a small tight smile. What he'd said made sense, but the life she'd built meant nothing if she didn't have Sam in it. If having him there meant sacrificing any part of it, small or otherwise, she'd have done it in a heartbeat without question. But the one thing she couldn't bring herself to sacrifice was her unyielding desire to have him all to herself. Maybe she was selfish for not wanting to share him, that her vision of a family was traditional and didn't involve another woman or a child with Sam's eyes she couldn't claim as her own.

"Are you saying I've been followed?"

Sam chuckled, "There's been agents on you since you met me in the parking lot."

The last few weeks raced through her mind. She felt that wave of anxiety when someone asks if they can talk and every bad thing she'd ever done in her life came to the forefront of her mind, though she knew she'd done nothing wrong.

He nudged her shoulder with his. "You really think I went off to help Cap and left my girl unprotected?"

My girl.

Her anxiety was replaced by heartache in a shuddered breath, and she closed her eyes to stop Sam seeing the longing she knew would be undeniable. She wanted to ask him to stop saying that. She couldn't be his girl, at least not right now. But she feared if she asked him to that he would stop. If he suddenly became formal, well, that would wound her more than hearing those words.

"So, Gino's," started Skylar, finding courage in the bitterness she felt she opened her eyes and turned to gauge his reaction. "I saw the pictures on TMZ."

His sigh was laden with regret, and he hung his head to look at his feet. "They called me to confirm my reservation, our reservation, when I was with her. She overheard it."

"So, I guess you had no choice," Skylar snarled, resentful and not trying to hide it. "Gotta keep her sweet right?" she rolled her eyes and shook her head. "But how sweet are you keeping her, Sam? Dinners, lavish parties, the designer dress she's wearing." She hated the venom in her voice, the undeniable jealousy, but couldn't mask it.

She was pissed and had every right to be. Someone else was living her life. The material things Gabby had didn't matter, it was the man she was sharing the material things with that caused the ire. Worse of all, she was pissed because, when it really came down to it, Sam had done nothing wrong. Skylar was vexed but had no one to be vexed at, no one to take out her anger on. She would take it out on Sam, regardless, because even though he was in part the cause, he was also the person she'd go to when she needed to vent.

She took a deep breath and silently talked herself down from being a bitch, rationalized that she didn't want to blame Sam or fight with him. "Have you..." Skylar started but wasn't sure how to phrase the question or whether she had the right to ask at all. "Are you sleeping with her?"

He shook his head in denial and stepped to stand in front of her. Dipping to catch her eye, he reached to take her hands that had balled into fists at her sides. "I haven't slept with her," he promised, and it wasn't until she saw the sincerity in his eyes she allowed him to take her hands. "That's her whole scheme, I think. To get me to sleep with her again to actually knock her up!"

"Urgh," she sneered, watching him fit his hand to hers, "I don't need or want the details."

"Okay. No more talking," agreed Sam with a chuckle. "Jarvis, play Wonderful Tonight by Damage."

Jarvis didn't respond but the slow, sweet violins of the song began to play, and Sam's cunning grin widened, "May I have this dance?"

"You're too smooth for your own good, Wilson," she smirked but stepped closer.

The balcony offered enough room for them to waltz, if they wished, but Sam led them in a tight square formation. Swaying back and forth, Skylar didn't quite care it wasn't an actual dance, she was just happy to be in his arms, listening to their song. Cheek to cheek like they had been many years ago, with her eyes closed, all the other shit faded. For those short three minutes, she'd forget, pretend it was just them.

The melodic voices of the boyband reached the second bridge, and she felt Sam shift ever so slightly, his mouth resting against her ear, and he sang along in a whisper. He placed a gentle kiss below her ear, another on her jaw, another on her cheek. She held her breath when he pulled back, knowing where he was headed. He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth and lingered longer than the previous kisses. A silent request, one she was more than willing to answer. She tilted her head toward him and captured his mouth.

The dancing stopped. The song ended, but the kiss continued. Tongues were unhurried but full of urgency, affectionate moans and hums were filled with desire, needy and desperate hands roamed the plains of the other's body. It wasn't until her back hit the glass that she realized they'd even been in motion, but the little breath she'd had left was knocked from her lungs.

Sam pulled away, "Shit, sorry."

She was unsure if he were apologizing for the kiss or the hard landing, and being a little light-headed from the lack of air, she couldn't manage a response. Sam didn't give her the time to find one. He immediately returned to kiss her neck, allowing her the time to suck in the air she needed. His hand ran up her exposed thigh, into her dress, and gripped her hip, his other doing the same on the other side to give him the leverage to grind against her.

"You want me to stop?" he asked against her neck.

Yes - it wouldn't do either of them any good in the long run. Still, her head tipped back to give him better access, and her hands clawed at his back to hold him against her.

No - it felt too good. It was all she'd thought about for weeks. She tugged her dress up to give her more room to lift her leg to wrap around his waist.

"Take that as a no," he snickered as her hands roamed to begin unfastening his belt.

Sam teased his fingers over the silky fabric of her panties, and she unzipped his fly, when Jarvis' warning interrupted them.

"Mr. Wilson, Ms. Romanoff would like you to know she is approaching."

They parted immediately, fixing themselves back to a presentable state a second before the knock on the glass door. "Put her down, Wilson," Nat called out jokingly.

Sam smirked way too smugly when he called back, "She's down."

Nat pushed the door open but only popped her head through the gap. She looked just as smug and self-satisfied as Sam. "Sorry to interrupt, but your absence is becoming noticeable."

"Okay, thanks," said Sam, "We're right behind you."

Nat gave a curt nod, and her smile morphed to mischief when she turned her focus to Skylar, "Told you not to wear any panties, would've been so much easier."

"That's not what we were..." Skylar started but Sam's boisterous laughter interrupted. "Shut up, both of you."

Natasha laughed, reminded them to hurry it up, and disappeared again.

Sam cut off his laughter and fixed a serious stare on Skylar. "Can we meet Thursday? Like usual? Hopefully, by then, all this will be over."

She stepped to him and kissed his cheek. "I really hope it's that simple." Her smile was half-hearted.

Sam squeezed her hand before he jogged away to catch up with Nat. Skylar waited a moment, not only to give them time to rejoin the party, but also to take the time to do something she hadn't done for years. She sent a silent prayer to the moon, or whoever else may have been listening, 'Please, let it be simple.'

The star nearest the moon flickered as if acknowledging her wish.

Wednesday March 5th 2014.

Nerves and excitement made Sam jog up the path to Gabby's door. He was excited that today could be the end of the whole fiasco, but nervous that it could potentially be the start of a lifetime of fiascos.

He was no stranger to trouble, his professional life regularly made him seek it. He could deal with chaos, but when it came to his personal life, he much preferred to be a lover and not a fighter. If today didn't go the way he hoped, if Gabby was indeed pregnant, he'd spend the rest of his life drowning his feelings for Skylar.

Of course, he would do the right thing, try to keep his distance. He was a strong man in every sense of the word, but Skylar was like an Ocean - unexplored, hypnotic, limitless and immovable from his life. Without a doubt, he'd succumb to his feelings, no matter how hard he'd try to stay afloat. Sooner rather than later, he'd get tired of swimming away. His lungs wouldn't be able to take it, and he'd have to breathe her in.

Sam knew he'd tell lies, painted truths to whoever he had to to keep Skylar close to him. He'd drown in the ocean of her regardless of the consequences.

He took a deep, calming breath, one of many he knew he'd be taking today, and knocked loudly on the door. It took longer than expected for her to answer, and he was ready to knock again when she finally appeared.

Sam's fake smile faltered taking in her appearance; baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt two sizes too big, her hair askew like she'd been lying on it only moments ago, no make up. He bit down the urge to be angry. They were expected at the doctor's appointment in an hour, she should have been ready to go. They'd never make it across town in time now.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Gabby sighed before Sam could talk. "I feel awful."

She pouted as Sam stepped through the door. She dragged her feet as she ambled back into the living room, and Sam followed chewing on his cheek.

"Morning sickness does not just happen in the morning, let me tell you."

Sam had to admit it was a pretty convincing scene. Her duvet bunched up on the sofa, a plastic bucket beside it, a half glass of water on the coffee table, the smell of disinfectant as if she'd tried to mask the smell of vomit.

She turned to sit on the arm of the sofa and smiled innocently, "I'm really sorry, but I don't feel up to going to the docs."

He nodded and gave as a genuine smile as he could muster. Her smile quickly changed to flirtatious, and she reached out to grab his jacket and pull him toward her. He allowed her, only half resisting, and she looked up at him from under her lashes.

"You know, I've read there's a cure for morning sickness." Her tongue rested on her bottom lip, and Sam remembered her doing the same thing during one of their previous encounters. At the time, he'd thought it was sexy, and he'd reached out to bite it, but now it just annoyed him further. He couldn't find it in himself to be sympathetic. This was just another game she was playing. Another ploy to try to get him into bed.

"Let me go make some calls," he sighed, unable to keep the disappointment from his tone, "see if we can reschedule."

Gabby chuckled at Ross Gellar's leather pants mishap, but Sam's grin was more of a grimace. It was the last place he wanted to be. However, he'd called Natasha and explained the situation. This wasn't part of the plan, what the fuck was he supposed to do now? She told him to hang tight, so he followed orders and stayed.

Why had he ever thought it would be simple? That Gabby would be proved a liar and he'd be able to go get his girl? Nothing had been easy lately, so why had he expected anything different?

He'd fought off Gabby's advances by again telling her he thought it was super weird to sleep with a pregnant woman. (It was complete bullshit, he couldn't think of anything sexier than seeing his partner carrying his child and helping sate her needs, whatever they may be), and eventually, she'd backed off.

According to Gabby, she hadn't been able to keep down even a small sip of water, yet she hadn't been sick in the hour and a half Sam had been there.

"You want me to make you some toast?" Sam asked rubbing her leg affectionately. "It's been a while since you've been sick, maybe you're past the worst of it."

He got up before she could respond, he just needed a reason to get her feet out of his lap when she started not so subtly rubbing them against his crotch. Even if he had wanted to sleep with her, that was a sure fire way to turn him off. Feet were a non starter for him because...feet.

He'd just made it into the kitchen when the doorbell rang, and he prayed it wasn't one of her family members or a friend because he really didn't have the stomach for it today.

He fished his phone from his pocket ready to call Nat and ask why he was hanging tight, when Gabby whined his name loudly, and he could hear the childlike pout she wore.

He raced to the hallway as if concerned and skidded to a stop. He'd never been so happy to see people in white lab coats in his life. Maria had pulled Gabby to the side as men and women traipsed in and out carrying expensive looking equipment and bags.

"You're still here, good," Maria remarked, giving him a tight but friendly smile. "I was just explaining to Gabriella that we brought the doctors to you. The matter is not one we can put off, as we need to make appropriate arrangements. We have safety measures and protocols we need to follow."

Sam smirked, and in his head, he was kissing Natasha's and Maria's feet repeatedly. Foot phobia or not, he'd kiss their feet until the end of time if they asked.

Maria turned back to the scowling woman before her. "I know this might be a little overwhelming but I need you to understand this is for your safety and the baby."

Maria continued to explain what would happen, reiterating Gabby was in control, her needs came first. She escorted her into the living room, as if it wasn't her home, and explained in turn how each piece of equipment worked and what it was for. Even Sam became somewhat overwhelmed, Maria explained one machine and another three had materialized. The buzz from the machines as they were fired up sounded like locusts and the faceless people in white coats murmured amongst themselves.

"Okay, okay. ENOUGH!" Gabby shouted and everyone froze.

Sam held his breath. Was this it? Was she finally going to confess to the whole thing being bullshit? Did she finally see she was in too deep and the lie couldn't go any further?

He pushed his feet forward, stood by her with an assuring arm around her shoulders, "You okay, baby?" he asked quietly as if he wanted the moment to be private. "You feel sick again?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Maria, "This must be so overwhelming, do you need a minute?"

Gabby began to tremble under his arm, and for a split second, he felt sorry for her, until she blurted out, "I lied!"

The confession seemed to be a signal to the white coats, and they immediately began packing up the equipment. Gabby shrugged herself out from under Sam's arm and sat on the sofa covering her face with her hands.

Maria squeezed Sam's shoulder and smiled with a quick wink before she called out for the agents to pack it up and be on the road in ten.

Gabby burst into tears, shoulders shaking as she sobbed into her hands. Sam didn't know why, but he sat beside her and rubbed soothing circles on her back. He should have been pissed and somewhere deep down he was, but he pitied her more than anything. She had to have some deep-seated issues to do what she had.

"I'm sorry," she cried and turned to bury her head in his neck. "I'm sorry Sam, it's all a lie. I was never pregnant."

"I just need to know why." Maybe that's why he'd stuck around and not bolted for the door the second she told him what he wanted to hear. He wanted to know why. He had his suspicions - that she wanted fame and fortune, to make a name for herself - but he wanted to know for sure, sate his own curiosity.

She sniffed back a sob, rubbed at her snotty nose with the back of her hand, and sat up straighter to look him in the eye. "I did have a scare, after I cancelled our fourth date. I thought I was, I did a home test and it was positive. I built this fantasy in my head about us being a family. Then I saw you on the news. I went to the doctor and it turned out the home tests I'd done were a false positive. But I couldn't stop thinking about you. About us. I wanted another chance. Then I saw Skylar in the bar…" she paused to wipe her nose.

Sam gritted his teeth, felt his jaw flex. He hated the way she said it, a hint of disgust as if Skylar was a problem. She didn't have the right to speak her name in that way.

"I knew from the panic in her eyes when she saw me that you two were more than friends," she sighed sadly. "And I knew if I didn't give you a reason you'd never call me back so I lied. Can you forgive me?"

"I forgive you," he told her truthfully. He wouldn't hold a grudge, there was no need to hold onto the negativity. He pulled her into him and kissed her temple. "I hope you find someone to have a family with, but it isn't me."

She sobbed harder, clung to him to hold him in place. He untangled himself from her embrace to stand up and walked away with her calling his name and pleading with him to come back.

Thursday March 6th 2014.

Agreeing to meet Sam at their usual spot, regardless of what happened with Gabby, had been a mistake. Skylar had spent two days on tenterhooks. Wednesday, the day she knew Sam was taking Gabby to the doctors appointment, she spent the day jumping every time her phone went off, her heart stopped every time her office door opened. By the time she crawled into bed at midnight the little hope she held that the saga would come to an end diminished and was replaced by a chest crushing despair with the understanding that she had well and truly lost Sam forever. She'd cried herself to sleep after convincing herself that no news in fact meant bad news.

Skylar had specifically asked Sam to wait until their regular meet up, whether it be good or bad news. If it was bad news they could pretend nothing had happened between them, toast to Riley and act as if they weren't pining for each other. That would be easier, go back to how they used to be. But if it was good news, Sam being Sam, she thought he wouldn't have been able to hold back. She'd had vivid visions of him bursting into her office and kissing her. Showing up on her doorstep and taking her directly to bed. However, he had done as she asked which could mean only one thing. Bad news.

She woke at three Thursday morning, washed her tear stained, puffy face, and told herself she was done crying. No more tears. She had to be strong and selfless and be there for Sam. After all, becoming a father was a huge deal. She vowed to make an effort with Gabby, even try to be her friend, at least until she left for London.

The working day rushed by - meetings, conference calls, and bitching to Mason on a two hour lunch break she probably shouldn't have taken. But, sleep-deprived, heartbroken, and miserable, she forced herself out of the cab onto the sidewalk.

The queue was twenty or so people deep, and she hung her head as she passed the main door in the hope she could sneak past the doormen. She was already late, thirty-five minutes to be exact, but that was nothing new, Sam would expect it. An extra ten minutes in the queue would give her more time to get her shit together and help put off the inevitable just a little longer.

"Skylar," Henry called out in his happier than happy tone.

She froze and cursed under her breath. Damn Henry and his friendly nature. She plastered on a happy smile and he mirrored it as he engulfed her in a tight embrace. The friendly greeting wasn't unexpected but he whispered, "Come with me," and she understood the hug was more about being discreet than friendly.

He led her down the alleyway between the bar and the neighbouring building, and when they were far enough away from the crowd, he explained, "Sam's been here about an hour. We snuck him in and put him in the VIP area in the back."

It was a nice gesture. They'd been Thursday night regulars for almost four years now, and Sam's new Falcon status had earned the bar a ton of new customers and it's new nickname, 'Falcon's Nest'. So Sam getting the perks of VIP - private area, free drinks, and table service - wouldn't hurt the bar's reputation or pockets.

The VIP had its own side entrance, though Skylar wasn't quite sure why. The tables were on a raised platform to the left of the main bar and could be accessed from the main room. Security stood on either side of the staircase to stop any non-important guests from entering.

Sam was at the table furthest from the side door and far enough back that any prying eyes from the main bar would have a hard time seeing him. He was staring into the swirling amber liquid in his crystal tumbler. Her drink sat waiting across the table from him.

His face was unreadable, a flat emotionless mask, and that scared her. He always had a slight smirk, like he knew a delicious secret, or his brow crinkled with tough thoughts, but his dark brown eyes always held a spark of life. But he was expressionless, and in that veil lay heartache.

She shrugged out of her jacket as she approached and flung it on the back of the chair, apologising for being late, though for her she was practically on time. "I'm late, I know, I know."

She dipped to kiss his cheek quickly and took her seat without meeting his eyes, though she wasn't sure he'd even looked up from his drink.

"How many times did you think about cancelling?" he asked.

She tried but failed to sound humorous, "Oh, only a couple hundred."

He raised his glass and met her eyes with the faintest smile she'd ever seen on him. "Riley."

She echoed the toast, and they clinked their glasses before shooting it back. She swallowed it down, and for once she enjoyed the burn. It somehow served as a reminder of the fire inside her. The desire she felt for Sam couldn't be doused, and any pretences of acting normal burnt to embers that she coughed out as the alcohol hit her stomach.

She chewed her bottom lip and forced herself to look him in the eye, "Should we toast your engagement?"

His smile spread wide and fast, one eyebrow pulled up slightly, "Not unless you're proposing?"

He stared at her, grinning like an idiot. She gaped back at him, and it took half a minute for it to register that the snarky remark was also an announcement.

"You gonna kiss me or keep staring like you-"

Skylar leapt from her seat and crashed into him, cutting off his jesting with a forceful kiss. The chair rocked back, but Sam kept them upright, and she settled into his lap. One arm wrapped around her waist, he pulled her into him. The other hand rested on the top of her thigh, and his fingers squeezed tighter than was necessary.

She hummed happily into his mouth. Her hands slipped from his face, and her nails dug into his shoulder blades. He tasted like whiskey. His hand squeezing her thigh was definitely going to make her burst into flames. His spicy cologne overwhelmed her, and the arm that wrapped around her waist and drew her into him made it feel like she was finally home.

She felt the hot happy tears well under her closed eyes and couldn't stop them falling. A single tear crushed between their lips and Sam pulled back. Thumbing away another rogue tear he smiled softly, "No more of these."

"I need a minute," she laughed, dabbing her eyes with a napkin. Her rational thinking returned, and she gasped, looking guiltily at Sam, "Shit, London."

"Baby girl, you forgot I have actual wings?" he chuckled, and she laughed with him but still looked concerned. "I already spoke to Mason. He told me it's only six months out of the year. So we can split our time between London and here, and when I'm working we can talk to the moon like we used to."

She kissed him softly but with just as much passion. Before it could become heated again, she pulled back. "Then I just have one question." He nodded for her to continue. "Why the hell are we meetin' here and not somewhere with less people?"

He laughed heartily, "Well, I wanted to make sure this place only had good memories for us. And unfortunately," he rolled his eyes like it was the most inconvenient thing to have happened lately, "we have a few people who wanted to celebrate with us and who we kinda owe a thank you to."

He pointed over her shoulder, and Skylar turned to see Steve, Nat, and Mason over on the far side of the room, talking amongst themselves and badly acting as if they hadn't just been staring at them. She'd been so focused on Sam, she hadn't noticed them.

She had never wanted to share Sam, her traditional family view prohibited her from being able to. But as she watched their friends, she realized that view had forever changed. Their newfound family was far from traditional, and she was more than happy to share him with them.

She smirked and quickly kissed his lips, "Could we not've thanked them tomorrow?"

"I promise, as soon we can politely escape," Sam whispered in her ear, "I'm taking my girl home to finish what we started on that balcony and to make up for lost time."

He waved to beckon the group over. Quickly kissing her lips, he reminded her of the promise he'd made what felt like a lifetime ago, "Whiskey and frisky."

She laughed loudly when he did the eyebrow waggle she'd envisioned him doing when she had read the message. Skylar cupped his face and pulled him to her, "I love you," she whispered against his lips.

"I love you, too."

Their lingering kiss was interrupted by Nat's jesting voice as she got closer. "Jeez, how many times," she sighed dramatically. "Put her down, Wilson," she winked.

Sam squeezed Skylar's thigh and whispered, "Never." A promise to never let her go now he had her, and she promised to hold him just as tightly with a firm kiss pressed against his lips.

Skylar's hand caressed his cheek, the pad of her thumb stroked back and forth over the scar under his left eye, and when she pulled back, she got lost in his adoring gaze.

The hairs on her arms and neck stood on end as if she'd been hit by a blast of cold air. Thoughts of the future and the promise it held gave her goosebumps. But what she wanted was the ultimate promise, a vow of forever. No matter what else tomorrow held, it would hold Sam. She would hold Sam, tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. She couldn't imagine a life without him. She didn't want to. And perhaps, she didn't have to.

The words bubbled up, out of her burgeoning heart, getting caught in her throat for only a moment as she took in the contentment on Sam's face. They were soft, but that was okay because the bar seemed to fade around them, its noise a distant throb in time with her heart - quiet enough, surely, for Sam to hear her:

"Marry me?"