Re: log, Manhattan: Sharon C/Steve R
That tracery of a smile muted itself immediately into a soldier's nod and crease of brow. Steve gave the men in the room silent greetings with the tip of his head, but that was it. He stepped inside the makeshift room, moving out of the way as Sharon ordered the men out. He didn't believe in blindly following orders, but he had to admit, it must be nice for your people to listen to what you say the first time around.
He watched the men go, and listened to the door close behind them in the surety of metal. Steve turned to Sharon then, just as she dipped closer to send the lock home. She did look quite impressive, giving orders, jacket smart and badge shining. He smiled at her, every frustration from the stretch of day behind them clear on his open face. He softened some, however, when a hand cupped his cheek. He nodded at her, and took that deep breath he so needed.
In, out.
It helped.
Steve closed the bit of space between their bodies, uncaring as to whether or not her dirtied her clothing, sliding his own arms low around the woman, to hug her in a particularly vulnerable moment. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, cheek tucked to hers.