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Five Times Steve was Propositioned and One Time He did the Propositioning

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It happens innocently enough with a comment from Iron Man which mistakenly gets broadcasted on an open communication line during a battle. Tony continually apologizes, but Steve thinks he secretly enjoys the entire situation. JARVIS won’t speak to Steve because of his ‘embarrassment’ over opening up the wrong line. Steve’s not sure that an artificial intelligence presence, thing, robot, person (what should he call it, him?) can get embarrassed, but JARVIS acts like it. Steve puts it down to JARVIS compensating for Tony’s obvious glee over the aftermath.

It starts with the simple line spewed out by Tony during the heat of a battle.

“Captain? Captain? Get your virginal ass over here, now.”

That’s all it took and Steve’s life began to change in alarming ways. Not only did his fan mail increase thirty fold, but he became (as Clint said) the equivalent of a rock star, or as Darcy mentioned, like some royal dude looking for his virginal princess. He thinks both of them need to go back to high school or something.

So Steve logs the incidences until he has to deal straight on with them. Until he does deal with it, in front of everyone.

The fundraiser is something that most of the Avengers go to with some reluctance. It means spending vast amounts of time with people who don’t care as much as they pretend, and politicians who are just looking to shake hands with a hero so they can say they support the effort. These are the same politicians trying to cut funding for whatever program or cause the event is for.

Steve dresses methodically for these occasions. He slips on his dress uniform, class A. He takes the time to ensure every single insignia and medal is in the right place. There are rules about how emblems, insignia, and medals are attached to a uniform. So he sits in his room in the Tower and measures out the exact placement and then attaches it with care. He sews it himself – he learned to do that in the war with a little help from when he was in the orphanage and his lessons from the nuns. He pins the medals and straightens his tie. Everything is perfect and right and he doesn’t think so much as do. It is routine. There is comfort in routine and, in this strange new world he finds himself in, sometimes routine isn’t mundane but instead a kind of perfection.

Tony has a line of cars ready to take the Avengers to the function and he ends up in one of the SUVs with Natasha. She lifts a brow at his uniform and smirks a little. He’s not sure whether she approves or disapproves. There’s something about Natasha that is both intimidating and terrifying at the same time. Underneath it all, though, he thinks she’s partly a kindred spirit. She’s as lost as he is. It shouldn’t surprise him that she hangs close during a great deal of the party.

Except when she disappears and he ends up on the back deck of the opulent mansion staring out into the cloudless night, listening to the speeches going on behind him in the massive ballroom. He should wander back inside, where he belongs. But the peace and quiet draws him. He very rarely finds any solitude these days. Maybe that’s why she surprises him, maybe that’s why when he isn’t looking a tall, blonde woman with a very low cut – nearly obscenely so to his old fashioned eyes – sidles up to him and smiles.

She has a cocktail in her hand, but it’s been drained. Her hair is in a modern sloppy concoction that doesn’t help her looks much at all. As he nods to her, he notes that the makeup she wears tries to hide wrinkles lining her eyes and mouth.

“Getting some fresh air?” she asks and leans in closer. He smiles, but it fades as her hand touches his forearm. “These functions are tedious. My husband, Senator Macon, drags me to all of them.”

“It’s great that you accompany him, ma’am.”

“Posh, don’t call me ma’am,” she says and presses against him until he steps away toward the doors of the balcony. “Captain America, you’re here to support the cause, right?”

“Cause?” He keeps backing up. She’s far too close and she reeks of too much alcohol.

“The Avenger Initiative, my husband is on the Senate Appropriations Committee. You know, it isn’t a given that it will be funded, at least not by the US. You know that right?” She eyes him and angles her head. He’s sure it’s supposed to be girlish, but she’s far too old to pull it off, and it comes off as leering and lascivious.

“I understand a bit about the funding situation, ma’am.”

“There it is again, that ma’am thing, now what did I tell you, my young man?”

He manages to cross the balcony to get to the doors but someone stops him from exiting. A large man that has far too much belly and not enough hair butts up against him and places a hand against Steve’s chest – where his medals are pinned to his uniform. He grimaces. He can push them off, easily enough. He just doesn’t know their game.

“Son, glad to see my wife found you,” the senator says and smiles.

The smile holds no warmth and, for a second, Steve considers whether or not it will actually make him vomit. He does a little in his mouth and frowns.

“We had a proposition for you, son,” the senator continues to talk as he slowly moves forward, causing Steve to back up against the brick wall of the mansion.

The senator’s wife is on his other side and he notices that her lipstick is on crooked as if she closed her eyes to outline her lips. It looks foolish and stupid, which he thinks these two just might be. He’s Captain America – who corners Captain America without big guns or some otherworldly weapons?

“Excuse me, sir, ma’am, I need to-.” His attempt to defer them is ignored.

The senator’s hand drifts up from its place on his chest and grabs Steve’s shoulder. “We could do so much for you, son. The pair of us. You get what you want and need, we get a little on the side.”

Steve looks from the woman to the man and cannot fathom what they might be talking about. “Excuse me?”

“Listen, son. You want the Initiative funded, right?” Macon pushes against Steve.

Steve gags a little when he realizes the man is a little too happy to see him. He stutters out his reply, “Y-yes, sir.”

“Then you do this for us, we do a little for you.”

“A little for me,” Steve is hoping he’s not hearing what he thinks he’s hearing. People don’t actually operate this way, do they? This kind of stuff is from the movies, not real life.

Macon’s wife gets up on tip toes and licks his ear. It’s all he can do not to slap her away. “I don-.”

“Think about it, son. We’re offering you a good deal. I’ll get that funding for you; you get to learn a little about the big city.”

“Big city,” Steve says. He’s stalling for time. The idiot actually is propositioning him; he wants to sleep with Steve. “I don’t really think that would be wis-.”

She licks him again.

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that, ma’am.”

“We’ll do this favor for you, take your dog for a walk, and then your little team of misfits can have all the money you want,” Macon says as he slinks his other hand down the front of Steve’s trousers and squeezes.

“Hey now,” Steve says and grapples to shove them away.

“Well, won’t you look at that?”

Macon and his wife swing around to confront Tony with his phone pointed directly at them. “What a nice bit of footage that will make on You Tube. Accosting Captain America, the great Senator and his wife.”

They back away and Tony grins at them. “Shall we consider this a warning?” Tony says. The senator fumbles to comment but Tony puts a finger up to silence him. “Best to close it while you have the chance to save face.”

The senator coughs and his wife makes a little whimpering noise. Steve slips from their grasp and ends up standing next to Tony.

“How are you, gorgeous?”

“Peachy.” Steve straightens his uniform jacket and smooths out his pants.

“Shall we?” He offers Steve his arm, but before he leads Steve out, Tony calls back. “I expect the vote to be very positive, Senator.”

The Avenger Initiative is funded at twice the requested amount.

Steve is brushing his teeth when it happens. An arc of light and a graze of chilling cold hit him. He drops the toothbrush and looks around the small bathroom. No one is there. He wonders if Thor might have arrived and caused an atmospheric disturbance. It wouldn’t be the first time. Picking up his toothbrush, he finishes, cleans the brush, and then hangs it in the holder to the side of the counter. He pats his newly shaved jaw and cheek with a towel, and then chucks it into the laundry basket. When he considers the overflowing hamper, he tells himself he’ll need to the wash soon. Tony keeps telling him the robots will do it, but he finds something fundamentally wrong with asking mechanical things to do all the little chores in life, everything that threads together the domestic and routine parts of his life.

He leaves the bathroom only to stumble to a complete stop.


Loki is sitting on his bed.

Loki is sitting on his bed, smiling.

Loki is also naked.

Closing his eyes, Steve rubs the bridge of his nose and then looks up. This has to be due to the hit in the head he received during their last battle. He opens his eyes. Nope, Loki is still there, and still naked.



“You’re in my bed.”

“I thought it would make things easier that way.”

“That’s, that’s thoughtful and nice, but I’m not really sure what you mean by that.” Steve frowns and furrows his brow. “I’m not even sure what I am supposed to do with that.” Steve thinks now would be a good time to call the team to assemble, but the idea of having them find Loki naked in his bed gives him pause.

Loki leans forward and his long dark hair swings over his alabaster skin. His lips cut a red line like blood across his face and he smiles in something more like a grimace. “News, my dear man out of time, travels fast.”

“News?” He glances across the room to the closet where he houses his shield. Too far, but then Loki doesn’t have his magic wand or what Tony likes to call the glow stick of destiny.

“About your state. And what an absolute pity that you have been left so bereft, so wanting of human companionship,” Loki says as he rises from the bed. He moves like a jaguar all muscles and tone. He seems completely unaware that he lacks clothes. “And while I may not be what you call human, I can offer such lovely companionship.”

Before Steve reacts, Loki stands in front of him with his finger lining Steve’s smooth jaw.

“Excuse me, but it was my understanding you were in prison.”

Loki looks to the side as if sharing a private joke with the shadows and then he turns back to Steve. “Yes, that is my understanding as well.”

“But you’re here.”

“For you, Captain.” Loki breathes a stream of hot air along Steve’s collar bone. “You have such fine bone structure. Was it like that before they pumped you full with poisons from their scientific research?”

He bats Loki away and puts more than a step between them. “I would be grateful if you put your pants back on.”

“And I, dear Captain, would be more than grateful if you took yours off.”

Under his breath, Steve curses Tony. He has no idea what happened, but somehow Loki found out about Tony’s declaration of Steve’s state of sexual experience. He smirks, if they only knew. He shakes his head and decides the god of mischief can just vacate his room now.

“I think it’s time you leave,” Steve says and the errant thought that JARVIS didn’t alert him to an intruder in his room causes him to halt again.

“I think it is time, my dear Captain, that we find out what you are made of,” Loki says and reaches as if to take off the sweatpants Steve has on for his morning run.

“Hey, JARVIS said there are some weird ass particle waves in your room-.” Tony stops dead and glares at Loki with his hands grappling with Steve for purchase. “I guess weird ass is an understatement.”

The image of Loki dissipates to a green black smoke and they are left alone in the room.

“What the hell was that?” Tony asks.

“Loki, trying to seduce me.”

“Did he succeed?”

“Tony,” Steve sighs and crosses the room to pick up his running shoes. “It seems your announcement has traveled across the Nine Realms.”

Tony claps his hands and throws back his head in a full gusto laugh. “That is rich. That is wonderful. I can see the news all across the universe. Captain America needs to get laid.”

Yanking out a t-shirt from his bureau, Steve struggles into it. Nothing is working right, not even his hands. He straightens the shirt, which feels too tight all the sudden. He scoffs at Tony but before he pushes past him, he says, “This is your fault. You fix it.”

“But it’s so much fun.”

“Fix it or the new headline will be Tony Stark Dead from Blue Balls.” He leaves as he hears Tony muttering that he didn’t even know Steve had any concept about blue balls and what that meant. Steve only grins.

Loki doesn’t show up again. Thor apologizes but also delivers over a dozen Asgardian marriage proposals to Steve.

The teenaged girls are the hardest. They are so sweet and even swoon a little. He’s used to girls and fans crowding around him. He understands it from his days as a show tunes guy dancing with a dozen showgirls selling bonds. While he never considered it a highlight of his career, it did serve to teach him how to deal with crowds of people.

Going to a coffee shop becomes a casualty of the War to Bed Captain America. Even Tony is exasperated when he’s with Steve one day and the place is deluged with young girls all lining up and circling Steve like sharks in a swimming pool.

Steve tries to be as polite as possible, but when teenaged girls are offering to break the seal it becomes a little too surreal.

“I’m sorry, but did you just offer to have sex with Captain America because you know what it’s like?” Tony says as the girl who must only be fifteen leans over to Steve. Steve keeps his distance and tries not to let the young girl even touch him.

“You wouldn’t understand,” the girl says and pops her gum. “We, virgins have to stick together.” She points to Steve and then the little group of girls surrounding their table. The owner of the place looks extremely displeased.

Steve feels the heat of his blush warm his cheeks up to and including his ears. He curses his Irish heritage. “Ladies, I’m truly honored by your offer, but I don-.”

“Captain America isn’t interested in getting arrested for statutory rape.”

“Wh-what?” Steve says and coughs. “Tony?”

“Sleep with any of them and you’re going to the big house, Cap.”

“I wasn’t intendin-.”

“Of course not,” Tony says and yanks him up to his feet. “Besides, Lola here is about as far from a virgin as I am.”

The girl starts to protest but Tony drags Steve stumbling away from the table and through the throngs of fainting and blushing girls.

“God, Barton was right, you are worse than a rock star.” Tony grips the front of Steve’s steel gray SHIELD t-shirt and drags him out onto the street. He turns around and glares at Steve. “Seriously, have you thought about how you dress?”

Steve looks down at his t-shirt and dark blue running pants, plus gray sneakers to top it off. He grimaces. He’s certain he got this right this time around; he’s been working on dressing more up to date lately. Natasha and Pepper brought him out for a shopping trip and while he’s not entirely sure he enjoyed it, he did drop a ton of money. Pepper only laughed at him when he choked at the price tag.

“I don’t see the problem,” Steve says.

Tony raises an eyebrow, clicks his fingers in front of Steve’s face a few times, and says, “Hello, McFly, are you in there? Look at yourself? Tight shirt, cute ass. Everyone is going to want a piece of you.”

Steve tilts his head, licks his lips once, and, before he jogs off, says, “But the question is; do you?”

He hears Tony cough and gag a little as he leaves. He only throws a smirk over his shoulder.

Steve cracks a half dozen eggs and whisks them when JARVIS announces he has a guest. He turns off the stove top and sets the bowl to the side, wipes his hands, and walks into the living room. He stops dead in his tracks. He thinks he might have swallowed his tongue because he cannot speak for several minutes.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the man in the living room has no problem filling the dead space with extra chatter which seems to be centered around the happenings of his groin, and Steve’s groin. Steve briefly considers whether or not the man in his living room is some kind of perverted robot created by Tony for his strange and deviant sexual fantasies. He’s about to reach out and pinch the thing’s arm when the monologue stops long enough to still the room.

He pulls his hand back immediately and clears his throat. “Hmm, excuse me, but who are you?”

“Seriously? Man, seriously? What have you been doing lately? Living under a rock?” the man or robot asks and squints at Steve. “Oh, oh yeah, yeah, yeah. You have been kind of living under a rock, but like a rock made out of water, or frozen like ice, or something.” He furrows his brows at the same time Steve does and it freaks Steve out a little. It is insanely like looking in a mirror. The doppelganger sticks out his hand and says, “Johnny Storm, at your service, in more ways than one man, in more ways than one.”

“Okay,” Steve says but knows he shouldn’t just agree to anything that this very odd man who has his face and body is stating. “Hmm, who are you again?”

“Storm, the Human Torch, you know.”

Before Steve’s eyes fire engulfs his visitor. Steve jumps back and yells, “JARVIS, fire! Emergency, fire protocols.”

A minute later the fire is extinguished and the living room is soaking wet. “What the hell? I’m the Human Torch; you do not need to put out my flames you dick head.”

Steve rubs his forehead trying to make the furrow at the bridge of his nose disappear. He does not want to look like this creatin. “It isn’t like you warned me or anything. Plus, I still have no idea what you’re doing here.” He’s perilously close to spewing out curse words.

“Human Torch,” Storm says and flicks his middle finger up and it lights up then dissipates. “Part of the Fantastic Four. Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”

“I didn’t even know you existed, hadn’t heard you died.”

“Neither did I,” Storm says and looks around for some place dry to sit. There isn’t any place.

Tony is going to flip out when he finally emerges from the workshop. Storm shrugs his shoulders and sits on the edge of the coffee table. Steve is about to protest when Storm starts his monologue again, “So, here we are. You, Captain America straight laced kind of guy, and me, Human Torch, little bit more of a player.”

“A player, you mean you-.”

“Yes, I like to fuck.” He rubs his hands together and says, “So, how are we going to handle this?”

“Not sure what there is to handle,” Steve says and crosses his arms. He just wants to go and cook his eggs.

“You,” Storm says and points to Steve. “Are ruining my mojo.”

“Not sure still.”

“Don’t get me wrong, the first few weeks were fantastic. I mean seriously, the action I got was out of this world.” He frowns a little. “In fact, some of it might have been out of this world, but anyway, it’s good, or was.”

Steve sighs. “Can you please get on with why you are here?”

“Now, a few weeks in and I’m hitting the bottom of the barrel. The girls all want to take it slow and take care of your feelings. It really is blowing all the candles out, if you get what I mean.”

“Wh-what?” Steve says. “Are you telling me that you are parading around, pretending to be me so you can do- do that- with young women?”

Storm does a little dance while he sits on the table like he is actually proud of himself. “And some men, don’t forget the guys. Equal opportunity seducer right here.”

“I cannot believe,” Steve replies with an edge of rage in his voice. “What were you thinking? You cannot pretend to be me.”

“Seriously, dude, have you looked at us. It is like you’re a version of me that’s only a few years older, not like seventy or something. I can pull it off, easy.”

“That is not the point.”

Storm holds up a hand and says, “Agreed, the point is we have to pop your cherry and do it now.”

“Oh my – oh I cannot – I can’t even listen to you, are you insane?”

“Listen, if you have old fashion tendencies and don’t want a guy to do it for you, I can get a girl in here. There are a ton of ladies who want to, you know, indulge.” Storm points to Steve’s groin area.

“Get out,” Steve says and bends down to yank Storm to his feet. “Get out and don’t come back.”

“Hey, listen, I was just trying to help you. You need to relieve some sexual tension.”

Steve doesn’t listen as he hauls Storm to the elevators. “JARVIS?”

The elevator arrives without any further direction. As the lift doors open, Tony steps out, opens his mouth, stares, and blinks a few times. Steve shoves Storm into the elevator and says, “JARVIS, take him to the lobby and do not let him back in the Tower.”

“As you say, Captain Rogers.”

Steve stalks off to finish his breakfast.

He hears a small voice from the living room. “Can someone tell me why the fucking room is flooded?”

The park is quiet and the air is cool. He hasn’t had a lot of time to just sit and be still. His life, thus far, in this new age has been about learning, discovering, searching, fighting, and defending what he’s supposed to love but does not recognize anymore. Relaxing in the park with his sketchpad balanced on his leg, Steve scrapes the charcoal pencil along the paper and eyes the distant trees and pond. It is a beautiful Spring day.

A shadow blocks the sunlight and he peers up into the light.

“You are a hard man to find, Captain Rogers.”

“Not hard enough, Director Fury,” Steve replies and flips the sketch book closed. He pockets his small box of charcoal pencils.

“May I sit?”

“Free country or so they tell me,” Steve says and folds his hands.

Fury settles next to Steve but leaves a good foot between them. He stares out to the small pond with its occasional duck floating by. The reeds along the bank are scattered and are in strange juxtaposition against the cityscape beyond the park.

“You adjusting, son?”

“Enough,” Steve says and wonders why Fury had to hunt him down today. “Is there a situation I should be concerned about, sir?”

“No, just trying to make sure you feel comfortable.” Fury shifts around and turns to study Steve. “You okay living in Stark Tower?”

Steve lifts a shoulder and drops it. “Better than that two bit apartment I had in Brooklyn. Easier to get Avenger work done when we are all in the same place.”

“But you didn’t count on living with these people 24/7.”

Steve smiles. “I didn’t count on a lot of things, Director.” He pauses and waits. When the director says nothing, he continues, “Something on your mind?”

“Yes, there is.”

“What would that be, sir?” Steve asks, he doesn’t want to justify anything to Fury. He hates having to validate who he is and why he does things a certain way.

Fury brings out a tablet from his jacket and turns it on. He access a website and scrolls. “This is only one of them. Right now, SHIELD counts at least twenty eight websites specifically dedicated to your state of sexual experience.”

That sounds like a lot to Steve. He keeps his mouth closed.

“That does not count the number of websites dedicated to keeping you virginal or dedicated to just plain stalking you. There are numerous variations of websites.”


“Coulson has a spreadsheet,” Fury growls.


“We need to do something about this, Captain,” Fury says. “The number of posts on tumblr, the number of tweets on your sexual activity, or lack thereof, is escalating.”

“Well, sir, I’m not sure what a tweet is or-.”

“No, listen to me,” Fury says and shuts off the tablet. He stuffs it back into the leather coat which must be stifling on such a pretty day. “We can’t let this linger. It’s blemishing the reputation of the initiative.”

“Sir, I am not certain how my sexual activities would have anything to do with the initiative.” Steve thinks the world has turned upside down. Shouldn’t this stuff be kept in the bedroom? “I don’t share my proclivities-.”

“Procl- do not use that word out in public,” Fury says and slashes his hand in the air. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Sir, just that my bedroom activities are no one else’s business but my own and my partner’s.”

“Which is true,” Fury agrees. “In utopia. Unfortunately, we live in the 21st and in America where underwear talk and toilet discussions are dinner table fare. We have to deal with this, Captain.”

Steve bites down on his tongue not to retort immediately.

“So, Agent Coulson has acquired the names of several respectable young women. He’s gathered information on each one of them for you to review.”

“Review?” Steve feels a little nauseated.

“He has a spreadsheet.”


“Yes, Captain Rogers. You can pick out a young woman, go out with her, be seen with her. Make sure the press gets a few good photos. It would be good for the initiative and, frankly, good for you.”

“Good” Steve coughs. “Good for me? What?”

“Sexual frustrations can lead to depression, anxiety, sleep deprivation, even other maladies.”

Steve scrubs his hands through his hair, grabs his sketch book, and stands up. “No, thank you, Director. I don’t need a dating service. I don’t need anyone to pop my cherry. I don’t need anyone to take care of me. Because you know what?”

Fury looks stricken and a little pale around the edges. “What?”

Steve deflates a degree and says, “You know what, it isn’t proper to kiss and tell, so I will leave you with this, I’m Captain America, I don’t need a spreadsheet.” He stalks off without a glance back.

The battle rages for hours. Even with super strength and endurance, his bones ache and his muscles rebel as he tries to sling the shield against the encroaching horde. Sometimes, he really wants to just curse out Thor for alerting the whole of the Nine Realms that Earth was ready for a higher form of war. But it isn’t Thor’s fault and he can’t be malicious about it. So he holds his ground, snaps out orders, and fights the incoming mass of aliens.

When the fight is finally concluded, when he’s teetering on the edge, he yells for roll call through his communication link in his cowl to ensure his troops are alive and well. Tony does not answer.


Only silence calls back to him.

“Does anyone have eyes on Tony?” Steve says and starts to scan the sky. His shield feels like he’s dragging a bag of boulders around. His ribs are cracked and it’s hard to breath, he has a decided limp because of the giant slash on his right thigh. All of these injuries are completely forgotten as he searches. “Tony?”

“Don’t see him, Cap,” Barton responds. “Still looking.”

“Where was he last?” Steve asks.

“Eastern part of the city, near the explosion,” Natasha replies.

Steve’s throat tightens and he swallows back the fear, tries not to let the terror pound through him but it does until he feels like the pressure might boil over. “Thor? Thor, can you get there?”

“I am here, my brother in combat. I do not see him in the wreckage. There are many collapsed buildings. It will take some time to shift through it all.” There is a pause. “I am not certain anyone could have survived, my friend.” His voice is solemn and grave.

“Hulk? Go to Thor, help him.” He won’t give up. Not if there is even the slightest chance. He won’t.

He needs to get transportation to the site; he drags his bum leg and turns around to see if Natasha can pick him up on the Quinjet. “Natasha, swing by and pick me up?”

“What, you don’t like rides from yours truly anymore?” Tony says as he lands next to Steve. Tony’s helmet is half off, it looks like it was smashed during the fight.

“Oh, damn, oh fuck, God damn it, fucking a, thank God,” Steve says as he flings himself at Tony. “You god damned asshole.”

Tony grabs hold of Steve. “Babe, shit, you just swore like a trooper there.”

“I am a trooper, you bastard.”

Steve knows he’s shaking in Tony’s arms, knows he’s barely containing the tears. Tony pulls away Steve’s cowl. He presses his lips against Tony’s mouth, devouring it, tasting it, feeling the heat of life. Tony smells of metal and fire and smoke. He tastes of everything and life, breathing, beating life.

As they break apart, Tony whispers to him. “You know, our secret is out now.”

Steve laughs, joyous. He doesn’t care. Who cares? All is right with the world. “And I don’t even think you were on the spreadsheet.”

“What spreadsheet?” Tony says as he peers up at the news helicopters circling.

“Long story,” Steve murmurs. “Right now, I want to do something else to you. I want to do something that has to do with sheets and spreading but not spreadsheets.”

Tony throws back his head and laughs full and true. “I’ll accept that proposition, Captain.”


Oh and a thank you for your time pic! prettyboy