Steve slides across the plate and jumps up, pumping his fists in the air, as the umpire calls him safe. He’s never scored the winning run in the bottom of the ninth with two outs before. It feels even better than he dreamt when he was a kid.

His teammates surround him, shouting with victory and trading high-fives and pats on the butt (or squeezes, in some cases--Steve's gotten used to being teasingly groped by various Avengers, though he’s never had the nerve to reciprocate).

Darcy jumps into his arms, heedless of the dirt covering his uniform, cups his face, and seals her mouth over his in a hot, fierce kiss that makes him a little dizzy.

"We won!" she says, raising her hands in the air and trusting in him to hold her.

"We sure did," he answers, licking the sticky sweet taste of her lipgloss off his lips and kissing her again.