Beer Me

Steve hadn't been home in a little over a week after the battle in Washington. Finally released from the hospital, Sam had offered him a place to recuperate at his home, but Steve deferred. "I just want to go home, listen to my records and sleep in my own bed." Rogers said with a polite grin wincing at the stitches on his cheek, still feeling almost every ache and pain from those bullet wounds.

Sam nodded, knowingly from his work with the PTSD soldiers, "Well, if you want to go running, call me and I'll talk you out of it."

"Is that so I don't lap you… again?" Steve remarked dryly and took the cab at the curb to his apartment. Sam gave Steve a patronizing look as the car pulled away.

Now he stood wearily outside his door and noticed the damage was repaired. He glanced toward Agent 13's former home and snorted derisively thinking about how Black Widow suggested he ask her out. He was more annoyed that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been spying on him. Testing the key almost hesitantly, the door soundlessly opened as he looked into his home. The damage was fixed, bullet holes repaired, furniture replaced and Nick Fury's broken body not bloodying the carpet. Steve smelled new paint. Senses alert, he crossed the threshold, flicking on lights and looked around to see most of his things were back in place and it appeared safe.

"What's wrong? Feeling a bit spooked?" a familiar female voice said behind him making him spin.

Grimacing with pain of pulled stiches, Steve looked at Natasha, who was standing in the hallway, "Nice way to make an entrance."

She looked slightly guilty that she had surprised him and caused him discomfort, but she flashed a casual smile, "What are old friends for?"

He looked at her, brows knitting, "Care to come in? Or are you going to slink off somewhere else?"

"Don't be so cruel. I can't slink off anywhere these days. Haven't you seen the TV?" she responded and then ate her words. Up until a few days ago, Steve had been in ICU.

"Not exactly. I prefer the paper and radio, remember?" Rodgers commented as he moved into the kitchen. Romanova made her self at home on his couch. "Did you have anything to do with the renovation?" he asked as he opened the fridge.

"Let's say you can get me one of those beers you're looking at right now and that will be your answer." she replied. The clink of bottles and a bottle opener being applied to the caps was heard.

Rodgers reappeared with the beers, handed her one and sat opposite her in the chair Nick Fury had last occupied," So you are here because you have another mission? I'm off duty."

"That is a lie. You're horrible at lying Steve." she said calmly after a sip.

"And you are losing your poker face too. I'm sure this isn't a business call." he retorted with a playful look, again pulling at the stitches on his cheek.

"Perhaps not." Natasha adjusted her expression pulling the veil down.

Rodgers said nothing and simply looked at her questioningly.

With a tremendous sigh and eye roll, Romanova let it spill, "I wanted to see you were ok before I do leave. It's not like I've had time to visit. "

"Oh how gracious of you. Here I am fit as a fiddle." Cap replied and took a swig of his beer. The cold effervescence was refreshing to all the recent drama that he'd been through.

"You're not like … Fury." Widow replied almost feeling her soul open up. She had read the doctors report. If he weren't Captain America, then she'd have been at a real funeral.

"You mean I don't have access to heart-stopping medications to fake my death and then miraculously appear alive after all?" Steve ventured, leaning back in the chair more, starting to finally relax.

"Yeah, something like that." she rejoined. Actually his injuries scared her more than Fury's "death". She knew the old fox Nick would have tricks up his sleeve, and he had fooled her once. Captain America was more fragile in her mind and that was terrifying because she began to feel herself liking him.

"Hmm… I'm not that clever." Rodgers exhaled, leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. If he had not been holding his beer, she would have sworn he was asleep.

"You are too humble." Natasha commented taking a swig.

"I prefer it that way." Cap explained opening his eyes and looking at her, "It just builds the suspense. You might want to try it sometime."

It was Natasha's turn to sit in silence, mildly stunned by his comment, slightly insulted. For some reason the escalator kiss kept flashing in her mind and made her belly quiver. She changed the subject, "You going after James?"

A steely glint shown in his eyes at the mention of Barnes' name and Natasha wasn't certain what to make of it. "Yes." was his curt reply.

"Are you going alone?" she pressed.

"Why do you care?" he sounded defensive and shifted his weight.

"Because I care about … you." she admitted. Steve looked at her directly, but not unkindly, as she continued, "And I know he means a lot to you."

Rodgers sat quietly for a moment and sipped his beer, running a hand through his hair, he replied, "No I'm hoping Sam will come too."

"What about Fury?" she queried.

"What about him? I'm not working for anyone now except myself." Rodgers replied with more force than he intended. "Sorry. I just haven't had a lot of peace in my life lately."

"Understandable. A 95 year old guy who's been on active duty since 1941." Natasha sipped her beer as well.

"That sounds so sad when you put it that way." Steve sighed and drank more beer.

"Well, I'll give you this toast; may you find him quickly." Natasha said raising her beer slightly, happy that the awkward part of their conversation was over.

"To Bucky." Steve rejoined and drank too, wishing in the back of his mind that Natasha could come with him to find James. Perhaps another time, another place and the sooner, the better.