#iamthexweapon

Steve laughed softly at her words. He had an idea of how he looked when he gazed at her. She was someone he cared about very deeply and would do anything for. So it was probable that all that was reflected in his eyes.

His mother always told him his eyes were the windows to his soul and that's why he was bad at lying. He could never tell a lie to his mother, Bucky, or anyone else. Over time, he became more jaded and was able to conceal some of his feelings. But, when his walls were down, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

He reached out to take her hand and rubbed his thumb over the back. "How do I look at you?" He asked, wanting to know what she saw.

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Aiden let out a soft chuckle as she ran her hand through her hair. She was amazed by how Steve looked at her. She felt safe with him and she wanted to be with him forever. The clue she had that he may feel the same was in his eyes.

"Well, I see love. Lots of it, every time you look at me. Its like you're picturing our future just by looking at me." She pressed a kiss to his hand. "Though when I saw you again after being apart for a few months, I saw desire too. I don't think I have ever felt such desire until then."

The thud of his target meeting pavement was a satisfying one. Another job done. He rarely missed. And, slowly, his gaze turned from the limp form toward his apparent audience. For a moment, he expected violence, or panic, of even just fear. But, the stranger seemed strangely calm when he spoke, save for the raised volume.

Avenger. The word only held peripheral meaning to Wraith... he'd heard of them, but never paid it all much attention. He had enough to worry about. And they'd never been an issue for him, never bothered him, never stopped him from doing his work. Never thought he'd ever run into any of them.

Passing through each level of security at his Stark Tower, Jennifer barged straight through the doors to Tony’s own office, barely allowing time for the elevator doors to open for her. Her heels clicked loudly on the tiled floor as she marched over to the infamous man.

Much could be said for the younger woman’s eagerness to please. She’d just about scrubbed every inch of the older man clean just short of breaking skin with the wet cloth, covering behind with a tender press of full lips to reddened skin. 

“Bed,” she said, still sitting in the puddle of bubbles and water they’d both been soaked in. Natalia made no moves to get herself out of that tub and dry herself off and she had no intention of doing so when Tony took such good care of her. She merely held out her arms and signaled she wanted to be carried out and dried off like a perfect little princess -- he never seemed to complain about the extra care.

Melinda had been saying goodbye  to the new manager for Melinda’s, it was easier now.     There were so many responsibilities that as the owner of the bakery she desperately needed help.    She had been experiencing a sense of dread that she knew that her life a protector of the innocent was about to take an intense turn.   On her her way to her motorcycle, she felt it, she sharp stabbing in her chest.   It was like she couldn’t breathe!   And she knew deep down that it was her Charge, the one that the Elders hadn’t told her about and she had to find cover and she orbed from New York City in alley to God knows where.