She's good at her job – very good. One of the best interrogators out there, in fact, and if she knows anything, it's that what people don't say is at least as important as what they do say. So when she asks "who's the girl?" and he doesn't answer, she knows there's a story there, even without taking into account the expression on his face. It's pain, and longing, and something else she can't quite identify.
No one's ever looked at her like that – well, at least not while she was fully clothed.
But part of the game is knowing when to back off, and it's clearly not the right time to get the answers she wants, so she lets it go.
(Well, she lets it go as far as he knows, but she does do a little light reading through his official and unofficial files. She's not at all surprised to find that the SSR had once been buzzing about an undefined relationship between Captain America and an Agent Peggy Carter, which leads her to Peggy's file. It's an impressive file. She suspects she'd have liked Peggy.)
But it's been seventy years, and it's clearly time for him to move on. She must know someone he'd be interested in.
…
He really likes Nat. She's one of the only people who doesn't treat him like a child or a freak, a demi-god or a lab rat. She teases and flirts, just like with any other guy. It's refreshing.
Not that he wants to kiss her , or date her, or have the kind of casual sex he doesn't really understand.
But he likes her.
Although her unending attempts to get him to go out with what seems like every single woman she's ever met might yet change his mind. She doesn't seem to understand that he's just not interested. Sure, maybe he could get out more, but that can lead to misunderstandings, and he's not ready to find someone new.
He nods to the nurse and knocks lightly on the third door on the left. Her face brightens when she sees him, and from the amused, wry look at the bouquet of flowers he carries, it's a good day.
He really wishes Nat would stop trying to set him up.
He already has a girl.