Rogue had no idea what Steve was going through in the shower - if she had, she wouldn't have been stressing out in the kitchen, agonizing over the little signs of how strange he'd been lately and all the things that were changing in their life. She tried to concentrate on chopping the tomatoes and peppers, on melting the cheese just enough, not letting the eggs burn. It wasn't easy, though, and one omelet met a gruesome fate and ended up in the trash.

She was plating the omelets that survived when Steve came back out, and she gave him a small smile while setting their plates on the island. His was obvious, with double the portion. "Want some juice?"