text: He’d had four tries at this before, all ending before Phase II. One hadn’t even gotten off the ground, if he was honest with himself, because it wasn’t even ten minutes into Iron Man before she had turned to him - maybe she thought she was being sexy? - and had asked if he \*really\* wanted to be watching this movie? Yes, in fact, he did. It was even in his profile! “Must be willing to work your way through the MU movies with me while we decide if we’re a match.” The Marvel Measure, he privately named it. After the years of solo nerd enjoyment he was determined that the right girl would pass the test and make it through all of the movies. Fifty hours to prove compatibility...excessive? Maybe. Effective? Undoubtedly. The fourth try had gotten the furthest, admittedly, but they had heated arguments after Captain America. Oh, she liked the movie just fine, but that date was when she revealed she was still sleeping with her ex-boyfriend, and that was ok right? After all, they had never said they were exclusive. And this, he thought, was why he would never kiss before the third date. \*\*\*\*\*\*\* The ding of the app notification started sounding like a warning, but she opened it up to find that the tall ginger she had swiped on - oh yes, the Marvel movie guy - had apparently liked her profile enough to swipe back. And now, to formulate the opening line. Not for the first time she cursed the “girl writes first!” conceit, but it did have a way of weeding out the dick pics (eight received, three declined, and one she wasn’t sure \*what\* it was.) Without thinking too much, she shot off: “I’ve never seen the Marvel movies before, but I’m willing to try! Hot take: I think they should be watched in chronological order.” She was done with the first dates. There had been ‘Too Much Tongue’ Guy, ‘Too Enlightened for Me’ Guy, and then the one whose wife had cheated on him four years prior and....well. She knew more details about \*that\* encounter than she did about her best friends sex life. How many times was she going to trot out the same stories, swipe on the makeup she barely knew how to apply, and sit listening interestedly to men who managed to make it clear by the second date that a night at home on the couch was going to result in more fun? And this, she thought, was why she would never kiss before the third date. \*\*\*\*\*\*\* The first date was a surprise. His spur-of-the-moment offer of drinks (after 9pm? Even if it was a Saturday, it was a ballsy move.) was only accepted because she was having a good hair day. The conversation flowed through the usual first date stories, and ended close to midnight with a hug and wave goodbye. He thought she was cute and wondered if she’d want to go out again; she thought he was funny and figured the next date would be more revealing. The second date was dinner and more hours of conversation. They walked slowly by a small river and she wondered if there would be a kiss. He enjoyed the goodbye hug and didn’t waste any time the next morning asking for a third date. She guessed this one would make it or break it. The third date ended with three bottles of wine, kissing that didn’t stop, and clear signals that the game, as they say, was afoot. \*\*\*\*\*\*\* The fifth date was where it all really began. They ordered Thai food and got ready to watch Iron Man. “It’s a labor of love,” he said. “It’s going to take almost 50 hours to watch all of these.” She settled in gamely though, and told him any excuse to sit on the couch and snuggle for hours was fine by her. By the end of the movie she was hooked and already making plot predictions. By Iron Man 2 it was clear that there was more than just casual movie watching happening. By Thor they were spending the night together. By Iron Man 3 they were pretty sure, but kept it quiet from each other. He said it first, after Thor 2. She couldn’t hold it back either. By Guardians of the Galaxy they both knew that they were falling. Really, truly, frighteningly in love. \*\*\*\*\*\*\* Life interfered, as it often does. They saw each each other almost every day for dinners, walks, stolen kisses and any time they could muster - even if it wasn’t to watch movies curled up on the couch together. In a way, neither of them was quite ready for it to be over. The quiet darkness of the bedroom took the place of the tv-glow in the living room and they spent hours exploring, learning the most intimate places and secrets they could find. The brightness of that spring saw them walking hand-in-hand around the local lake; sometimes unable to keep the words from flowing out like a fountain, sometimes in amicable silence as they kept their own counsel. He brought her roses and she cooked him dinner, and all along they could be seen smiling at each other in amazement, still unable to believe their luck at this match they had found. \*\*\*\*\*\*\* Late one night they finished Avengers: Endgame. They sat quietly through the credits, lost in their own thoughts and the feel of their fingers intertwined. Finally, she asked, “Only one left, right?” Yes, he confirmed, only one left. She felt an odd emptiness, after the weeks of watching, that they were this close to the end. “Tomorrow night?” she asked, wondering if he felt it too. They agreed to end the way they began - with Thai food and the final movie in the experiment. When she got to his house she could hear the music coming from the kitchen and the scent of something she couldn’t quite place. She smiled and opened the door - he’d long ago told her to just walk in - and stopped in her tracks as she took in the scene before her. The roses caught her eye first: bunches just placed everywhere she could see, in all the colors he’d brought her before. Candles lit and glowing, and in the center of the kitchen he waited on one knee. That night they finished what they had started.