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Setting herself and Steve up actually turned out to be easier than usual. As a fugitive on the run from the US military, she didn't often have the luxury of picking locations that would be friendly to a woman traveling alone. Before she'd been on the run too long, she managed to pick up a ring that would pass as a wedding ring if needed. With Steve, she didn't just have a ring, she had a fake husband - which, for once, made it somewhat easier to find a place to stay.

It took barely a week for their current home to gain a set of jury-rigged laboratory equipment to continue her research into ways to cure - or, failing that, destroy - it. At the moment, she was mostly playing catch-up, adding newer findings to the worn notebook that served as a repository of information, something that she could visualize. When Steve entered the room, she smiled and quickly shut the book before he could see the heading of the section she was updating (termination(?)). "Morning."

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He was either too drunk or too unobservant to be intimidated, while Bryce had more or less retreated from the conversation entirely, focusing on calming the green haze in her mind. "What's it to you?"

"Well," Steve said, his voice utterly calm, "for one thing, I'm not much of a fan of men forcing their attention on women who don't want much to do with 'em. For another, I happen to be the usual bouncer here, so it's quite literally my job. Most important, though, is that you're bothering my wife."

For a second, there was silence while the words registered.

And then he paled very slightly and hacked off so fast he bumped into a few people along the way, stuttering something that might have been an apology.

And Bryce breathed out, trying to release some of the tension that had gathered in her while he was in her space.

Steve sighed very tiredly before settling down into his seat and reaching a hand over towards Bryce, but not touching her.

"You all right?"

"Yeah," she said with a smile that came nowhere near her still green-tinted eyes. "I just need a minute."

He nodded and carefully made his way to the bar, returning with their drink order. He never let her leave his vision this time.

"Here you go," he said gently, giving her breathing room.

"Thanks."

It took her about another minute before she looked up again, her eyes back to their natural color. "Sorry."

He shook his head.

"No, no, I'm the one who should apologize. I guess I don't realize how rough people can be when I'm not on the clock."

She shrugged awkwardly. "I've had worse."

He glanced over at the exit where the man had skittered off.

"That doesn't make it okay. If you want to head out, I'll come back and pick up the food or make you something to make up for it."

Honestly, she did want to just go back to their place and leave this for another night, but she felt a little guilty that she was ruining this attempt at dinner. She had had worse, it shouldn't have been a big deal. She just couldn't quite get the smell of his breath out of her mind.

"It's fine."

He looked at her a moment tapping the menu.

"We can get it to go just as easy. I'm here most of the week. I mostly wanted to share the food with you."

"I - " The words I'm fine stuck in her throat. After a moment, she said, quietly, "Please."

He nodded and looked satisfied before giving her a little smile.

"Just let me know what you want and I'll bring the order to the bar. They'll bring it out in a few moments."

She picked something more or less at random from the menu and waited at the table while he stepped away, unconsciously shrinking into herself a little and avoiding eye contact to prevent anymore unwanted attention.

He heads right to the bar and puts in the order, returning a moment later to slip into her side of the booth and put his arm around her.

After a moment, she tentatively leaned into his side a little. "Sorry," she said again, because there didn't seem to be anything else to say.

He shook his head firmly.

"I want you to enjoy your dinner. No apology necessary."

She shrugged and offered him a tiny grin. "I apologize a lot sometimes. Sorry."

He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Apologizing for apologizing?"

He kissed her again.

"I'm sorry for that, too," she said, poker-faced.

"You're much better than sorry," he said before leaning up to kiss her forehead.

"Food should be done in about ten minutes."

She frowned somewhat theatrically. "So that makes me... deeply regretful?"

"But never regrettable," he said with a bright lilt to his voice.

She snorted. "You may change your mind on that."