We've all got sad stories, she'd told Bucky, and her gaze is warm and sympathetic and steady as Steve takes a breath, seems to settle himself.

"Sounds sorta familiar," she says, "but to be honest I think we've both been puttin' a pin in our sad stories. Or the hard ones."

She tips her head and smiles at him, kind as a sunny spring day. "But it sounds to me like findin' each other is somethin' you're both pretty damn good at. Even all these years later! Hell, if one of the Blackhawks swanned up to Gotham, lookin' as young as they did back then, it'd make livin' in the future a whole lot easier to handle."

She pauses for a swallow of her beer, then grins, mischievous. "I sure did hear about the USO. You've got my sympathies, brother; from one show pony to another."