Okay so I have taken into consideration some concerns brought up in the reviews of the first "tester" chapter and this chapter has been revised but also extended to the full length I wanted it to be. Enjoy!

The air in the car was chilled. He could feel it wafting in from the vent to the right. The view to the left of his seat revealed that evening was falling over the land. He had studied the other passengers as he waited for her. They seemed to be people of wealth; people who actually belonged here. He felt out of place. As Steve Rogers watched the world whip by him through the train window, he thought about why he had even agreed to take this mission in the first place.

For starters, he did not know the first thing about Poker. And undercover missions weren't really his calling. But Fury had assured him that his presence would be necessary, in case it came to a fight. S.H.I.E.L.D. had collapsed, but Hydra was still at work. Steve remembered the vow he had made to Peggy before he went under- "I'm not gonna stop until all of Hydra is dead or captured." Many of the remaining agents wanted to live to see that day. And Steve felt compelled to help, as always. Fury, along with whoever was left were pooling most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s remaining resources to make the mission possible. They only had one shot at this.

The man they were trying to bring down was apparently one of Hydra's big bankers, and a mastermind of the criminal underworld; Le Chiffre. Hydra's defeat in DC had somewhat crippled his funds. The ground was shrinking beneath his feet, but like S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra was willing to gather its remaining resources. If Le Chiffre won this tournament, Hydra would have the money they needed to rebuild. That was why Natasha was going in. Of all the agents, Natasha was the best at Poker. Still, it would be too dangerous to send her in by herself. So Steve was going to go undercover with her. S.H.I.E.L.D. had also flown out around a dozen back-up agents, who would all be staying at different hotels in the area, and remain on standby in case they were needed. In S.H.I.E.L.D.'s current predicament they couldn't afford to take risks.

"I'm the money." She appeared out of no where and sat down in front of him with a speed that sent a gust of wind in his direction. As usual though, her movements were ever so graceful as they were swift. She held a silver brief case, which she promptly set down on the table. Steve decided that Natasha clearly had him beat when it came to dressing the part. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a brown leather jacket over a t-shirt. He looked like any average street fellow. But Steve always tried to dress as casual as possible. He liked to enjoy any moments of normalcy that he had. Natasha on the other hand looked like she fit right in with the rest of the train's wealthier passengers. She was dressed in a casual sleek black dress accompanied by a pair of lacey ankle boots and cropped three quarter sleeved sweater. She was stunning. Steve just shook his head to acknowledge her attempt to humour him, and smiled. Natasha looked to the right for a brief moment and chuckled under her breath. Then she turned her gaze back to him, "S.H.I.E.L.D. was able to get us ten million to go in on this."

"Damn," Steve widened his eyes.

"Well, that includes contributions from a certain "generous" donor,"

Steve mimicked Natasha's playful grin, "Stark?"

She nodded and tried to hold back a chuckle. Neither of them knew what to say. Steve seemed to be studying her. Once she felt that their stares had lingered too long, she remembered what she had to say next and her smile faded.

Natasha tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. "This is going to be a very long and delicate mission, Steve," She paused to study his expression. He showed no signs of discomfort yet so she took a breath and continued. "Forty eight hour tournament, four hours at the table, twelve opponents who can all afford as many buy-ins as they need…And remember if we lose, our government will have directly financed terrorism."

Natasha watched as the realization sunk in. Steve suddenly looked very overwhelmed. She offered a slight smile in an attempt to restore some comfort. She wanted to tell him not to worry but he'd see right through her bullshit. And she didn't want to lie to him. S.H.I.E.L.D. really was going all in.

In an attempt to ease the tension, Natasha picked up the dinner menu that rested on the table, "So, what looks good?"

They indulged in what the train had to offer. She had the staff bring them a lavish seafood platter. From her frequent travels, Natasha had gained a certain amount of culinary incentive. Steve felt a little guilty for ordering a steak while S.H.I.E.L.D. was struggling to pay for their trip, but in an attempt to ease his conscience, Natasha reminded him that they had to "act the part". They would indeed be posing as a rich married couple.

Natasha had spent most of the duration of their meal explaining to him how it worked.

"So you're telling me it's just a matter of probability and odds?" Steve smiled, "I was worried that you actually have to be good."

He was playfully beaming and Natasha paused for a moment to admire his chiseled features,"You can win without the winning hand, Steve."

"Isn't that bluffing?"

Natasha held her chin and raised her eyebrow, "So you've heard the term? Well then you must know that in Poker, you never play your cards. You play the man in front of you."

"And you're good at reading people?" he was teasing her.

"I'm detecting a hint of sarcasm in your voice," she leaned forward, "What can you surmise about me?" She rolled her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

He paused, studying her. She certainly had a way with words. He imagined that she must find it easy to manipulate her enemies. Steve found himself almost mesmerized by her allure, "You have an instinctual desire to always be one step ahead. And to do that you have to ensure that anyone who poses a threat takes you seriously."

"Which can be said for any woman with half a brain, Steve."

He sighed and continued, "You try to look cold and intimidating, but that can be lonely. You overcompensate for these feelings with displays of arrogance, but what these instances reveal are actually real, human insecurities."

He noticed her face soften. For a moment she seemed at a loss for words. Steve considered that maybe he had upset her. Then she smiled and looked him in the eyes, "Maybe you do have what it takes to play poker."

He gave no indication that he was willing to take her word for it, so she continued, "Either you still don't trust my judgement or you're refusing to believe it. And it makes sense. You ordered that steak with such disdain. You didn't come from money. And let me guess, no one ever let you forget it," her look of satisfaction grew. She was reading him like a book. She leaned back against the cushion of her seat, "S.H.I.E.L.D. gravitates towards maladjusted young potentials. Now, having just met you I wouldn't go as far as calling you reserved," she emphasized the word, making a quip at his previous depiction of her, "But it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine. You think people in this day and age are inordinate. So in that respect you must not find me that complicated at all," she leaned forward, smirking. "We have more in common than you'd like to admit." She paused to give him a chance to contemplate her words, "But don't worry about my intentions, Rogers. I'll be keeping my eyes on the cards, and off your perfectly formed ass."

She popped a shrimp into her mouth and pressed her lips together as she chewed, trying to subdue her laughter while she savoured his reaction.

Steve could feel his cheeks turning red. His eyes widened. After a brief moment he forced himself to chuckle, "Remind me to never underestimate you,"

Natasha acknowledged his words with a sincere smile. She suddenly felt bad for making him uncomfortable, so she decided to change the subject, "How's your steak?"

"Perfect." They sat staring at each other for a while longer.

"Well I'll leave you to it then," she leaned back again and placed her napkin on the table, "I'm gonna go get some sleep," she stood up and shuffled out of the booth, "Night, Steve."

"Goodnight," he replied.

They arrived in Montenegro the next morning. A car was waiting for them at the train station. As the driver helped them load their luggage into the trunk, another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent handed Steve a package and wished them luck. After he and Natasha had both climbed into the back seat, he opened the envelope. He pulled out two passports and a sheet of paper.

"Last minute details?" Natasha grabbed the paper out of his hand and smirked as she read it. "Apparently we're very much in love."

Steve opened up the passports, "Mr. Allan Beech?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It's just a fake name Steve," Natasha looked straight ahead through the windshield. "We have to sound established," she turned to look at him again and grinned, "I'm going to be Mrs. Stephanie Beech, professional gambler." The last word rolled off of her tongue in a whisper. Steve chuckled. She glanced down at the sheet again, "We've been married for quite a while, hence the shared suite."

Natasha looked to Steve's face to glimpse his reaction. He continued looking down at the passports and swallowed hard.

"Steve we don't have to act married behind closed doors." He seemed to relax immediately after hearing her say it. "Unless of course they find us suspicious and decide to bug the room."

"Something tells me that Le Chiffre doesn't want to risk causing a scene," he was smiling at her, a look of sarcasm on his face, "Hydra really needs the money."

They emerged from the car with linked arms. The hotel would be crawling with her opponents and their associates and Natasha wanted to make sure that they looked the part. She had convinced Steve to put on grey dress pants and a white dress shirt. Under this facade, it was hard to recognize Captain America. She was wearing a black blouse and matching black skirt that rose just above the knee and hugged her curves tightly. Her scarlet tresses were tied up into an elegant bun.

"Bonjour Monsieur et Madame-"

"You'll find the reservation under Beech," Steve replied.

"C'est numéro mille vingt-quatre. Enjoy your stay."

"Merci beaucoup," Natasha smiled at the woman and then leaned over to kiss Steve on the cheek. He almost jumped in surprise but then he seemed to remember that they were undercover and she felt him relax and mimic her smile.

They turned and made their way to the elevator while a bellhop followed closely behind with their luggage.

"What was th-"

Natasha stepped into the elevator first and turned to face him, "On va commence mon petit cheri," she held out her hand to him and grinned playfully.

He chuckled and took her outstretched hand as the doors began to close, "Je prends que tu avais fait ça plusieres fois."

Natasha kept her eyes down as she reflected upon his statement, "Tu n'as pas l'ideé,"

The first thing Natasha did upon entering the room was do a quick sweep for bugs. Le Chiffre had already been checked in for a couple of days. After she decided it was all clear, she went into the bathroom to freshen up. Steve observed the furnishings and the sheer magnitude of the room. It was way too big a suite for just two people, he thought.

Once the luggage had been delivered to the room they prepared to leave again to meet up with their S.H.I.E.L.D. contact, Mattheus, or Agent 26. Steve noticed on the way down that Natasha had fixed her hair. The few loose strands that had tried to escape her bun were no longer present. They stepped outside and were greeted by the warm sun. It was a bright, summer day, bridging on sticky. The car was waiting for them. Steve opened the back door and an immediate rush of cool air escaped. He held it open for Natasha and she smirked delicately before climbing in. They were about to have lunch at Le Café Par Les Berges.