After a quite interesting and kind of complicated story of how Steve got ready for the date, he set off, to a place called The Groove located in downtown DC, a nice small American-themed restaurant with patriotic music playing softly from the speakers, enlighting the patriotic mood of the whole premises, as if the red,white and blue walls and American flag decoration all over place wasn't enough.

In a normal day, Steve would probably laugh at the irony. Today? Not a chance.

"Funny." Was the first thing he uttered once they sat down on a table for two next to a window showing the view of the streets.

She smiled gleefully. "So, what do you think? You like it?"

He gave her a tiny nod, fumbling with a button on his shirt to keep himself busy. "Yes, yes. Quite the irony."

He tried hard. Really, really hard to try to enjoy himself, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. The burning feeling that started in his stomach has spread all over his whole body and it didn't just burn him; the feeling was gnawing at him, hurting his senses, attacking his mind, not allowing him to focus. At least I'm not rushing back to get back to Natasha's bed, he thought. But even the furthest thought from Natasha he could think of led straight back to her; her face, her body, her green eyes, her voice, her crimson hair, everything. Anything and everything.

Halfway through their meal, Sharon finally stopped talking about her life and asked, "What is that on your neck? It looks painful."

Steve rubbed on the dark,rather enourmous blotch. The bruise. The hickey. "Oh that. I was playing around with a blowback rifle not long ago. One bullet missed my armor and hit me on the neck." There. Good white lie.

Does that even count as a white lie?

She bought it immidiately."Horrible. So, what have you been up to?"

He didn't answer. He was playing with his spaghetti. Noodles. Dawn. Conversation with Natasha.

"Steve?"

He quickly raised his head, met her searching blue eyes. Eyes. Green. Natasha's eyes are green.

"Sorry, I−" He scoffed. "Uh, yeah. I've been busy−" sleeping with Natasha night and day... "recovering from the mission."

"How do you recover,exactly?"

Have sex with Natasha... "Natasha. She−helps me."

"Good for you. It's good to have a friend to help you around."

"Oh yeah, she's been very helpful." Steve said that with a smile that dissappeared as fast as it appeared. He regretted saying that. Then again, he didn't.

"You know, at SHIELD, I never really got the chance to talk to her much. We did talk, occassionally. But she's usually busy. She's very good at what she does, isn't she?"

Steve almost choked on his drink. He cleared his throat, images of Natasha popping into his mind like a thunderstorm.

"Oh God, are you okay?" She rose from her seat with a napkin to wipe his mouth. He was caught surprised by her action but he let her. Staring at her blankly, she returned him a sweet smile.

"Thank you." He took a mouthful of spaghetti in hope to retrieve his sanity. When she returned to her seat, he knew that she was watching him, silently judging him.

"I know I shouldn't be judging people but, you look pretty preoccupied tonight."

Of course I do. "Oh yeah?" He kept shoving spaghetti in his mouth.

"Yeah." She leaned closer on the table. "Like there's something bothering you."

YES THERE IS. I WANNA GO HOME AND BE WITH NATASHA RIGHT NOW.

He shook his head. "I'm alright, trust me. Just a little tired is all."

But he made it−he made it through the whole date, although just barely. There were several moments when he seriously thought about leaving. But he stayed there, his consience bringing the best of him, and the best choice would be for him to stay. Both for the sake of politeness and his own good.

And he drove her home too. She still lives there; the apartment that he used to live in. And as she got down from the motorcycle, she asked him this question that he answered with a direct 'no' but got him wondering if he would say yes if he wasn't under the potion's effect:

"Do you wanna come in?"

Of course he said no. There is literally nothing in this world that he wanted right now but to return to Natasha.

When he rode back to the base, he was speeding like a madman.


About the same time that Steve left, Natasha took a shower, put on some decent clothes, changed the sheets on both her bed and Steve's, then head over to the living room with coffee and cookies at hand. She ate, knowing that she needs to do so to survive (for some reason one of the potion effects was to erase their hunger for food almost entirely, and she bet they wouldn't have eaten anything unless they were somewhat reminded). She thought of Steve seeing another woman and couldn't help but feel slightly− no, incredibly jealous, but she brushed off that thought and decided to try drifting her mind somewhere else.

She knew that the rest of the boys were off to hang out, and she knew Wanda would be isolating herself in her room, so she thought she would be alone in the living room, just watching the night sky from the glass wall. But not long after she heard footsteps and Wanda came along, taking a seat on a cushy couch adjacent to her. The girl knew better than to disturb her− they barely even talk. But she let her keep the jacket, though.

Putting her coffee down the table, she closed her eyes and laid back on the couch to stop her mind from actively thinking about Steve Rogers; Oh Lord, that body of his is just wonderful. Eating just simply doesn't work to overcome it.

"You know, I've been trying to find a way to help you with your condition." Wanda's voice with her thick accent filled their silence gap.

"Maybe you should lay off everybody else's business for once, kid." She replied without thinking. Wanda fell quiet, and Natasha snapped her eyes often right after, sitting upright and looking at her. "Sorry." She bit her lip. "Didn't mean to say that. I guess I should say thank you instead."

"No, it's okay." She crooked up a faint smile. "I like when people are honest."

"But some things are just never meant to be said."

"That's bullcrap. I think everyone should know the truth about each other."

Natasha returned her smile and looked up to the night sky without saying another word.

"How does it feel like?" She asked.

"How does what feels like?"

"To be with somebody...in that way."

Natasha quirked an eyebrow. The kid's a virgin? Then again it doesn't really surprise her. She spent her childhood being bombarded by Stark's lethal commodities and the rest being a German scientist's lab rat. That musn't have left her much time to go and explore herself, especially in a sexual manner. She thought about it for a moment before answering, closing her eyes as thoughts about Steve in bed distracted her for a moment. "Umm... it's a basic human nature to seek for desire." She glanced at the brunette and found her waiting excitedly for her explanation. "There are good sex, there are bad ones, also mediocore ones. It all depends on the individuals, no actual definite standards, really."

"I heard that it hurts the first time. Is it true?"

Now Natasha was more taken aback with her question. This feels somewhat like a question that a pubescent girl would ask to their parents. She didn't get to ask it to hers−her parents were long gone already when she hit puberty. "In some cases, yes."

"I hope my questions aren't bothering you."

"You know, there's such thing called Google."

She giggled. "Yes, but I'd rather ask an actual person. And you are the only one I can get an actual answer from without feeling more awkward. Than it already is, I mean."

Natasha smirked. "Well, about that antidote you said you're looking for for us−good luck. I mean it. As in for the girl-only questions, you know who to ask now."

Wanda nodded. "And, oh, there's a bag of things from the pharmacy that Sam bought for you and Steve. It's on the kitchen counter. He said you guys will need it."