"That's the kinda talk I want to hear, Rogers." Sam gently threaded fingers through his hair, dragging blunt nails against his scalp. "I traded a few favors, managed to scare up a record player. If we keep the sound low enough, we could have ourselves a dance or two." Although she suspected a fair few of their friends might be out for the night finding themselves company in the city, that didn't mean all of them would be out of the small boardinghouse they'd taken over.

"Couldn't get you a cake, though, 'cause of rationing." Not that Sam was much of a baker, or that she had anywhere to bake a cake. "But I've got some chocolate bars I saved up from our rations."