Hey guys so I am so so sorry that it took so long for me to post this chapter and I also want to apologize in advance for the shorter length of this chapter. You see I've been holed up and working on a novel for this writing contest, so when I took a break from writing that I noticed that I had enough(even if its a little filler-ish) content for this story to upload a new chapter. I really didn't want to take too many long breaks from this story like I did with this story's spiritual predecessor so I hope you enjoy this little chapter of character development. I might not be able to post again until July because of my novel but we'll see how that all turns out.

Anyway thanks everyone.

October 3rd, 2012 Miss Lola's Home For Scamps

5:30 p.m.

Steve sat in his new bedroom that Coulson allocated to him and simply stared at the objects that filled the room. A desk, an office chair, and the very bed beneath him.

"You understand that we're not forcing you to stay here right? We just want to help you find out who you really are and this is the most convenient way to accomplish that."

Steve didn't do much more than nod when Coulson had posed that question to him mere hours earlier. At the end of the day the only thing that ended up being "explained" to him was who exactly it was that Coulson, Melinda, Natasha, and Clint worked for. And even that turned out to just be a bunch of letters.

S.H.I.E.L.D.

The fact that a government agency was behind this situation didn't shock Steve in slightest even with his whole lack of memory issue. If he was being honest at the moment he didn't care one way or another since it did nothing to restore said memories.

"I promise you Steve that we are going to use all the resources that are available to help you."

Really the only positive Steve could take away from the night was the discovery of Coulson's phenomenal cooking skills. The man was a regular artist in the kitchen for sure.

"Hey Steve, you got a sec?"

He turned to see Clint standing at his doorway. The brown haired teen's blues that were usually a searing calm now appeared more warm and understanding. Granted, Steve didn't have much to draw on but it seemed to him that Clint was beginning to at least attempt to play an older brother type of role for him.

Buck….

"Yeah, come on in."

Clint smiled as he walked over to Steve's desk chair and claimed the seat. It wasn't a beaming smile that showcased an abundance of teeth, it matched his eyes. Warm but low with something strained behind it.

"Look I know that it is still way too early to ask you this but are you adjusting all right?"

Steve couldn't stop himself from smiling at Clint's flippant but still legitimate concern for him. Sure he was trying to hide it behind levity but somehow Steve could just feel the sincerity in Barton's question.

"Honestly it's kind of impossible to adjust when you don't even know what is you're adjusting from in the first place."

"Kind of like leaving a place you never went too." Clint offered.

"Yeah I guess…"

"Don't worry, it doesn't make sense to me either." Clint joked.

The two boys shared a quick laugh together that had an element of mystery and confusion too it that only a hormonal young adult could appreciate. Clint leaned back in the leather desk chair causing the rear of it to creak loudly for a quick moment.

"Mind if I ask you another question?"

Steve nodded without needing to put much thought into it. He had the feeling the other teen was most likely analyzing him but since he was going about in a polite way he may as well reciprocate the gesture.

"Go ahead."

Clint placed his boots up onto a barren spot of Steve's desk and leaned back further.

"How do you feel, and I mean really feel, about having to live here?"

Steve shrugged his shoulders and looked around the room. "Can't say that I really have an opinion on it yet. I'm not in love with the idea but you all are giving me a place to stay so I can't complain too much."

"Fair enough," Clint took his feet off the desk top and dusted the spot he had used as still off with his hand. "I have to say Steve, I am impressed with how calm and level headed you are about this. If I was in your shoes I'd probably be screaming all the time."

Steve's eyebrows climbed the social ladder of his wrinkling forehead by a couple of rungs. "Thanks, I guess?"

Clint smirked as he got out of Steve's chair, making sure to straighten the piece of furniture back more towards its original state just to be nice.

"Well Steve that's all I wanted to ask you… Well actually now that I think about it there is one more thing." Clint paused as he was about to make his exit.

"And what's that?" Steve asked in puzzlement. Clint looked down at the carpet with his hand grasping his chin as if he was trying to piece together the exact way he wanted to say whatever it was that came next.

"It's just that our curfew isn't until ten and you're here sitting on your bed like it's lights out or something."

Steve kept quiet as he watched him pace around the room. His guest(or was Steve technically his guest?)was clearly going somewhere with this so he didn't want to interrupt him, even if the boy was taking his sweet time getting to the point.

"Nat and I usually go to this cafe called Feige's whenever we have some free time. Now if you wanted to come with I'm sure I could convince her to be on board with it."

Clint looked down at Steve with a smile that was light years more impish and smarmy than his previously warm one.

"So what do you say? You in?"

Natasha tugged at the sleeves of her worn out grey hoodie, silently cursing Clint's tardiness once the cold mid-evening air hit the exposed skin of her throat. Her partner always found a way to keep her waiting whenever it came time for their scheduled meet up, how he did this when they both lived in the house she could never fully grasp. And tonight was no different as she once again found herself sitting on the front steps of their home.

The only thing that kept her from plotting his soon to be tragic murder was the fact that she was used to environments that were much, much colder than New York in Autumn. Natasha rolled her eyes when she thought back to the text Clint had sent her a little over ten minutes ago.

"Hope ur ready 4 a surprise. Ik how much you love em"

She hated surprises. Her line of work was dangerous enough as it was in pure principle, throw in even one tiny detail or event that wasn't in the plan and then her life was in even more risk. Also, how was it a surprise if Clint was telling her about it ahead of time? It was times like these that made her worry she dropped her friend flat on his head a few too many times during sparring.

"Man, how can you not love this weather?"

Natasha didn't even roll her eyes at Clint's attempt to tease her, he didn't deserve it quite frankly. Especially since he said that to her every time it was chilly. The redhead rubbed her sleeved arms one last time before she rose up off the steps. She wouldn't turn around and look at him yet, not until she gets her own say.

"What happened Clint, you get lost again? I know that doorknobs are still a maddening puzzle for you but if you keep trying and don't give up eventually you'll get it down."

When she finally did turn around her body nearly froze up, and it had nothing to do with the breeze this time. Behind a grinning from-ear-to-ear Clint stood Steve, the young man was dressed in a denim jacket from the collection of clothes Melinda had purchased in anticipation of his arrival.

His admittedly impressive shoulders were hunched close together and his hands were tucked away in the pockets of his pants. She looked into his eyes and found concern in them, the fact that he was looking at her led Natasha to believe that she was the cause of this worry.

On a hunch she hypothesized that Clint must have somehow led him to believe, whether intentionally or unintentionally, that she may not approve of or that he needed her approval in the first place to join the two of them tonight. She assumed due to the fact he still stood next Clint that he was planning on joining them.

"I thought we agreed to leave the door knob thing in the past," Clint deadpanned in reference to her earlier insult. "But anyway I thought Steve here could benefit from a night out. Mind if he joins us?"

Not surprisingly Natasha's hunch was right, Clint's smug and teasing tone outright confirmed it. She wanted to shake her head at his juvenile nature but she didn't want Steve, who appeared even more timid after Clint's question to her, to think that she was saying no to his company.

It went a little bit against her nature but she gave Steve a comforting and inviting smile, making sure to basically ignore Clint as long as she could. Hopefully this would make their new roommate feel a little better.

"Of course Steve can come with us."

He was still far from bursting out of his shell, he probably wouldn't be able to do so until he recovered his memory or at the very least learned about his path. But in that moment Steve seemed legitimately grateful and even a little relaxed in response to Natasha's measures.

And to make them both feel even better she was going to ensure that Clint was the one who would pay for their drinks and snacks.

October 3rd, 2012 Feige's Cafe

5:40 p.m.

"So how do you like the coffee Steve? Pretty good right?"

"Clint, stop trying to sway him. Just because you like that pumpkin flavored crap doesn't mean everyone has to."

"Let the man answer for himself Nat. Unlike you our friend here can appreciate the more unique things in life."

"And how do you know that? You just met him this morning."

"I'm a quick study, I can tell these things."

Steve watched the two go back and forth behind the Styrofoam cup of coffee Clint had bought him. Feige's had turned out to be a quaint little mom and pop's cafe run by a kindly middle aged man named Kevin. The cafe itself was on the smaller side in terms of scale and room but the atmosphere was most likely a huge selling point to potential customers, if not the main selling point. The near orange hue of the lighting warmed those it shined down upon, the music playing in the background was calm and non-specific instrumentals, the seats were comfortable too.

He still felt out of place but he was happy he was there with them and not just sitting in a bedroom he didn't know waiting to just fall asleep. He took another sip of the warm liquid and let it soothe his throat as he gulped it wondered if the version of him he couldn't remember was a coffee person or not.

"See, he loves it."

"It's pretty good, can't compare it to anything though so take that with a grain of salt," Steve admitted as he finished up the last remains of the drink.

"Don't worry, by the time we're done with you you'll have tried every sort of coffee this place has to offer." Clint promised with a charming grin as he punched Steve on the arm lightly.

"May whatever deity you believe in have mercy on your soul," Natasha remarked dryly with a roll of her eyes but she did hold a small smile at the corner of her lips as she took a sip of the roasted coffee she ordered.

"And by mercy she means giving you all the overpriced desserts and caffeinated beverages your poor little heart could handle and more." Clint incorrectly corrected.

"Speaking of overpriced desserts, why don't you hop to it Clint and get me a raspberry scone." Natasha suggested with a provoking glint that manifested in her green irises and in the little bit of teeth shown in her smirk.

"I'm starting to rethink this entire strategy of mine," Clint complained as he clutched his wallet like it was going to fly away if he let it go. "OK, fine fine I'm going," He whined after a pointed glare from Natasha.

"What can I get you Steve?" He asked once he stood up.

"I don't know...something simple."

"Blueberry muffin it is then."

Steve bemusedly watched the young man trudge his way up to the bakery counter with the air of a man defeated. He liked Clint, he was good and easy company. But it was still...fun to observe Natasha cut the fast talking teen down to size with only a few choice words.

"You enjoying yourself?" Steve left Clint to his snack gathering duties and swiveled his head over to the girl sitting across from him that had just asked him a hid the bottom half of her face behind a cup but the look in her eyes told Steve that she was actively interested in what his answer would be.

He leaned back into his chair and gazed out the plate window they were positioned next commotion was starting to die down a bit in their neck of the woods as the number of people walking around were beginning to grow scarce.

"Yeah, I am."

"Well Clint's coffee hasn't killed you get so that's a positive." Natasha ribbed as she moved her cup allowed her smile to show.

"It's really not that bad," Steve defended as he peered down at the remains of his own drink. "I guess I could get used to it."

"Don't let Clint hear you say that," She warned only half seriously. "Besides, that drink is seasonal. It's only around for a short amount of time."

"Oh I see."

Natasha fell quiet for a moment. Steve raised his eyebrow at her but since she was still looking directly at him he figured she was just taking a calculated break to choose her next words so he didn't say anything. He had noticed Coulson and Melinda doing a similar action over dinner.

"You're going to be assessed tomorrow."

Steve leaned forward in his chair and furrowed his brow at his...not date, what's the word he was thinking of...company? No that didn't sound right either.

"Assessed?"

Natasha nodded.

"Assessed on what?" Steve further probed when Natasha didn't continue. A blank expression covered her face so she was probably choosing her words again.

"We need to test your instincts."

"Instincts...could you be a little more specific?"

"We need to see how you react both physically and mentally to certain...situations. Believe it or not it's the first step in trying to uncover your past identity."

"Okay...where is this 'assessment' taking place?"

"At the house." Natasha answered simply.

"Really… I didn't get the impression that the house had the kind of room for something like that."

"Well you haven't seen the basement yet." Natasha smirked as she got up to throw her empty cup.

"If you say so…" Steve acquiesced.

When Natasha returned from the trash can Clint also arrived with a tray in his hands.

"Ok guys here you go. One economically cost effective muffin for Steve, and one grossly expensive and frankly overrated raspberry scone for Natasha."

Again sorry its so short, this was originally just the first half of a chapter but I didn't want to keep anybody waiting for another month or so.