Your friend sounds like he was a good man. Steve pressed his lips to her forehead again, staring over her head into the distance, but not seeing the park anymore. He was a good man, he thought, and I got him killed. He took a deep, steadying breath, and by the time she pulled back to look at him, he'd put the thought back in its box; to be drawn out only when he was alone. Bucky woulda come back from the grave just to murder Steve himself if he heard Steve was bein' melancholy over him while he had his arms full of a gorgeous doll.

Steve smiled back, but finally had to say, "I have no idea how to respond to that. Thank you?" He laughed. "Sorry. Not used to getting compliments about my looks. I have been wolf-whistled at a few times, but that's different."