The Captain dusted off his shield and wiped the sweat from his brow. Today had been a pretty rough training session, Stark working them a lot harder than usual. They had been at odds the last few months over differences in leadership, the Captain growing weary with the arguing and finally relenting the responsibility. They were all adults after all, well except for maybe Hawkeye and Stark when they went at it.

"So are we expected to take a beating like that every day or is this just a bi-weekly type of thing?" Hawkeye grumbled as he slung his bow over his shoulder and followed close behind America.

The Captain didn't want to engage and instead gave his comrade a weak smile. Stark caught up behind them, "did I just hear that you wanted a double practice tomorrow?" He asked with his usual amount of cheek, grinning at the archer.

Hawkeye muttered something inaudible under his breath and glared at his half-bionic friend. He knew when to push Stark and he was far too tired to risk a double session tomorrow. His drawing arm was going to ache and fall off tonight.

"What? No smart-ass remark?" Stark pressed, enjoying the torment.

"Screw off." Hawkeye finally spat, slinking away to get changed and grab a bite to eat. Meanwhile the Captain had grown unusually quiet, watching the exchange.

"That really necessary?" He asked Stark after the archer disappeared with his gear.

"What?" Stark smiled innocently, giving a little shrug. He wasn't too bothered and enjoyed pushing the team to the limit. Far as he was concerned, if there was a threat they had to be ready for absolutely anything. Besides, it was the only way they would ever improve.

The Captain just sighed and packed up his stuff, eager to hit the showers. The place had cleared out quickly and he was the only one who remained. Tossing his bag over his shoulder he pushed open the mens' lockers and headed to find a clear seat on the bench. As he rounded the corner he walked right into a toweled Natasha, who let out a little yell and jumped back.

"What the hell Rogers!" She exclaimed, one hand over her heart. "You just about scared me."

The Captain respectfully averted his eyes away, blushing red. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone else was in here. Wait, what are you doing in here? This is the mens'… and I'm pretty sure you aren't a man." He asked a bit skeptically, noting her obviously naked figure, and long wet hair.

"Oh really now, 'cuz I had no idea? And you're only pretty sure about that?" She raised a brow, chuckling. "The mens' have better showers, and besides I thought everyone was gone.." She said a bit embarrassed, tightening her hold on the towel. "So are you just going to stand there or—" She made a move to go around him and reach her stuff.

"Oh, uh yeah," Rogers replied, dodging left just as she did, blocking her way again. The two tried to maneuver around each other awkwardly, only successful after several tries.

The Captain had his bag on the bench and looked over at her awkwardly, not sure if he should leave or what the protocol was for this kind of thing. "Well I'll just leave you to it." He suggested, as she brushed her fingers through her long red hair several lockers down.

"Well I'm done with the showers so knock yourself out," She smirked, paying the blushing blonde no mind as she looked through her bag for some of her clothes. America was not as nonchalant and he glanced over at her again before finally sighing. I suppose it's too much to ask to just have a quiet shower and a good nap.

The Captain grabbed his towel and some things and headed off, casting one final look at the woman. He couldn't help himself and admired her figure. Her tight ass stuck out the perfect amount, the wet fabric clinging to her small waist and bosom. She must have grown a bit cold as her nipples poked through the towel, visible even as she adjusted the top. America cleared his throat and shook his thoughts away, began his retreat when she called out,

"Aren't you worried about it rusting?"

"Wait thrusting what?" Rogers blurted before realizing he had misheard. All he could think about was her body, his own pressed up against hers. Preferably wet and hot, in the steamy shower as the water fell on them both. The water dripping off her perky nipples as he sucked on her neck and played with her—

"Rogers?" She called out again. America blushed, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"yeah?"

"I said, aren't you worried about rust?" She repeated, growing slightly annoyed, though flattered none the less. Not that she would ever—I mean her and Steve, Ha! Puh-lease. But he did have a certain charm—

Captain was slightly confused, rust? Why is she talking about rust? He only then realized he still had his shield hanging off his arm. "Oh right," He said a bit lamely, placing the shield gently down on the bench.

"Well, uh. Bye. Again." He said with a little wave, though he felt like an idiot.

Widow gave him a weird look before waving lamely back at him. Her hand pulled away from the towel a bit too quickly and it fell slightly, exposing her one side. She cursed and quickly tried to recover. The Captain hid a smirk and looked away, pretending he hadn't seen anything. Though he had; there was no way he could un-see that.

She caught his smirk as his face usually bared his thoughts, and frowned. "Oh shut up." She called after him, causing Rogers to chuckle as he left her to it.