After running the idea past Natasha and Clint and telling them her plan to wear the same thing every day in public, Megan used Clint's office computer to create a Facebook account and loaded the photos she had taken that morning of the paparazzi to the new page. She then added some snarky comments about dealing with it all. When that was done, she went online and ordered a week's worth of identical teal shirts and black slacks to be delivered to her at work. As an afterthought, she ordered a second set of lavender shirts so she could eventually switch things up just a bit without giving the paparazzi a lot of variety. Sighing, she closed the browser and stood up. "Lead the way."

Clint locked his office door behind them and walked beside her to the elevators. "This bothers you, doesn't it?"

"We never had guns in the house growing up. Rationally, I know they're just another tool, but they come with a bit of baggage. I've never held a real gun, much less fired one. So no, the thought of concealed carry isn't something that excites me. I understand the need, but I don't like it."

"Fair enough. For you, it's going to be a weapon of last resort you'll probably never have to use. I have to say though, I find it interesting you muck around with pathogens and radioactivity and that doesn't scare you but the thought of firing a gun has your hands shaking."

"I know the proper protocols to work in a lab. I guess I need to add a gun safe to my shopping list, too."

Clint nodded. "I'll take care of getting it. Anything you want me to look for in an apartment?"

"Central air. A washer and dryer in the unit. My wish list includes a dishwasher and an avoidance of super-modern architecture. Where am I staying tonight?"

"You can either stay here at S.H.I.E.L.D. in one of the dorms or a S.H.I.E.L.D.-approved hotel. Neither one will cost you anything and you'll be secure. You might get less attention at a hotel and it will be easier for Cap to sneak in unnoticed, but it's your choice."

Megan looked down, "It's not like that."

"It should be. You two belong together, even if neither of you can see it yet." Clint held the door to the firing range open for her and followed her inside. He signed forms charging her new set of ear plugs, earmuffs, and safety glasses to an account she knew nothing about, and then fetched his own from his personal locker. "Janice is the Range Safety Officer on duty today," he added. "RSO for short. You'll like her."

"Okay." Megan felt her mouth getting dryer by the minute.

"Relax. This is the safest place to learn. Later, when you come down by yourself, you can always ask the RSO on duty for advice. Their whole purpose is to keep everyone safe. They'd rather have you ask than assume. For now, one of us will come with you until you're confident you know the basics. I'm going to start you today with my favorite handgun, just so you can get past your fear of shooting. In a few days, we'll try several different options and see what fits you best."

Megan nodded, wanting nothing more than to run from the room.

"When we get out there, the first rule is to keep the gun pointed down the range, meaning towards the target, at all times. Not at the floor, ceiling, or me. No exceptions, and the same holds even when it's empty."

Megan smiled at that, knowing full well that even if she wanted to aim the gun at him, he'd break her arm and have her disabled before the thought was completely formed. "I appreciate this, really. You had Natasha have been a wonderful help. I won't ever forget that."

"Stop talking like you're leaving. For a scientist, you sure hold tight to your misconceptions. You're still clinging to your worldview." He shook his head. "Being stubborn is good. You need that around Cap, because he's as stubborn as they come. But you need to get a clue. We'll talk about that later. Right now, we're going to focus on getting you past your fear of firing a gun. Is it okay if I touch you?"

He must have seen the look of confusion in her face, because he clarified, "I generally avoid surprising people when they're handling lethal weapons. It'll be easier to correct your stance with my hands."

"That's fine."

"Normally, I'd tell you more about different models, how to load, them, and the different features they have as we go. I get the feeling that none of that is going to stick today so we'll save it for another time. I'm going to start you just holding and aiming it unloaded, then we'll have you shoot five rounds at a time. When you get so you can hit the target five times in a row, we'll call it a day. Otherwise, you shoot for an hour. Deal?

Megan swallowed and nodded.

"Okay, put your hearing protection in and glasses on and we'll head to the airlock."

"Airlock?" she repeated dumbly as she donned her safety gear.

"It reduces the noise that gets out, but the main purpose is to support the air filtration systems." Clint put his hand on her back reassuringly as he walked beside her to an empty stall and set down his bag on the bench. "Breathe!"

Mutely, she watched him take out a handgun and lay it on the table in front of her, pointing it downrange the entire time, as he said was the rule. She felt disconnected from herself as he offered her the gun and she wasn't sure what hand to put it in. "Left or right?" she asked.

"Your choice. You're ambidextrous."

Megan shook her head. "Right handed for things I was taught or when the tool design requires it. Left handed when I get to pick."

"Try your left then." He showed her how to grasp it and use her other hand to stabilize her grip. "Exhale and squeeze the trigger."

She did and found it was surprisingly easy. Of course, it helped that the gun wasn't loaded. How she'd learn to handle this weapon with any degree of confidence was beyond her at the moment. She just tried to stay calm as Clint adjusted her stance, smiled reassuringly, and otherwise guided her through multiple attempts to get comfortable pulling the trigger. When she started to feel like she might keep her stomach under control, he took the gun from her and loaded five rounds. The taste of bile flooded her mouth and her hands shook as she took the gun back from him.

She tried to imagine Steve learning to handle a gun when he'd first joined the army. He was so confident now, it was hard to picture him fumbling with the basics. But she knew he'd had struggles of his own in basic training. At least she didn't have to practice in anticipation of going off to war. Heartened by the knowledge that he understood her internal conflict on some level and would help her work through it later, she took another deep breath and fired.

Megan splashed cold water on her face and wiped it with a paper towel, hoping to get past the sick feeling she'd been fighting for the last hour. It didn't help. Clint had been exceedingly patient and she had eventually been able to hit the target with some degree of consistency, but inside her head, she was a mess. It wasn't a rational reaction. She knew that. But it didn't calm her nerves. The only way to do that was to continue to practice until her brain caught up with her skills.

Her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she idly checked the message. Place sample in brown paper bag and leave at the base of the first trash can to left of Metro card kiosks on mezzanine level of Rosslyn Metro station. You have one half hour.

Great. She forwarded the text to Clint and asked if he or Natasha could keep an eye on her while she made the drop. Too much had happened for her to feel safe going anywhere alone.

Clint immediately wrote back, "Done," which made her feel a bit better. She looked at her pale face in the bathroom mirror and took a deep breath. Could the day get any worse? Maybe she didn't want to tempt Fate by asking that question. Better to get this done so she could focus on her new role at S.H.I.E.L.D.

"What are you doing?" Emily asked as she entered the cell culture room and saw Megan moving stacks of petri dishes to an autoclave bag.

"Cleaning up. How are you?"

"Did you have contamination? You're signed up for the hood all week."

"Plans have changed." Megan sighed. "I don't really want to talk about it now, Em. The last few days have been exhausting."

"I'm not surprised, given all you've been up to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Megan asked, keeping her focus on the trays of cells.

"You were in New York City with Captain America this weekend. It's all over the internet."

"I noticed the results."

"Rumor has it you have a new position here at S.H.I.E.L.D., too."

"Is that so?"

"Is it true?"

Megan finished the last tray and finally looked up. "Is it going to be a problem if it is?"

"That depends on the direction of the research programs."

"Those get decided by Director Fury, not me."

"That's not what I heard, Megan. I heard that you single handedly shut down all of General Ross' programs and got Captain America to back you up. We need to keep going. Do you realize how many lives we can save?"

"Saving lives is my primary focus. I didn't shut anything down. I did express my opinion of the programs as I understand them and laid out the basis of my concerns. Steve makes his own decisions. Believe me, you can't convince that man to do anything he doesn't want to do. I've tried."

"Try harder," Emily snapped, then slammed the door behind her.

Megan stripped off her gloves and added them to the bag before wiping the sweat from her forehead. "I just had to ask if the day could get worse," she muttered to herself as she put on a new pair of gloves and fastened the bag shut with autoclave tape. She'd disposed of all of the cell lines in the incubators but needed some time to inventory the cells in the liquid nitrogen tanks in the cold room. Once the autoclave was loaded and running ,she sent a quick text to Jarvis asking him if he had access to the electric inventory, and if he did, to identify all of the cells that had been harvested from Steve during various medical procedures. She planned to move them to different locations in the same dewers so they couldn't be accessed easily by anyone else until she knew what Steve wanted her to do with them. When that was done, she gathered up her lab notebooks, packed the contents of her desk into a box, and headed upstairs to her new office.

The afternoon was spent filling out paperwork. Director Fury hadn't been joking when he said her new position was generating paperwork, and not all of it was limited to his desk. She had all sorts of forms to fill out regarding access codes, her new computer, security levels, and even safety training on proper use of desk supplies. Someone had felt it necessary to write a manual on how to properly use a rolling desk chair with a note in a large box emphasizing that such chairs were never to be used as a step-stool.

"Having fun?" Clint asked when he found her elbow deep in forms. He tilted his head so he could read the top item. "Did you get to the one on proper use of sidewalks in the winter? They have a written policy about being careful not to slip on the ice."

"I am appalled at the use of tax money to generate, print, and file these forms."

"Hey, it's better than having Congress pass new laws. Last time they got anything through, they gutted half the social programs for at-risk kids. You keep filling out those papers and remember you're protecting funding for the public schools with every page you sign."

Megan stared at him in dismay. "The sad thing is, that actually makes sense."

He grinned. "Ready to go? I've got you a room booked under an alias and already checked that it's clean," he said, tapping his ear. "One of us will bring you a bag of clothes later on. I can drop you at the hotel on my way to check out a potential apartment… unless you decide to just move in with Cap."

Megan shook her head. "Neither of us is ready for that. He needs his own space for the time being."

"Noted. Here is your room key, Ms. Megan Jones. You're in a studio king hotel room with a kitchenette just off of Dupont Circle. You know the neighborhood."

Megan nodded, touched that he'd put her close to Steve's apartment.

"Feel free to order room service. S.H.I.E.L.D. will cover meals while you're there. You're there for your own safety. I have only one request," Clint flipped a chair around and straddled it as he rested his arms on the chair back.

"What?"

"You talk to Cap and put your cards on the table. You two have to stop dancing around each other. It's making me dizzy."

Megan looked down at her paperwork. "Steve told me that Natasha keeps trying to convince him to go on dates."

"Natasha's all about options and making sure Cap gets some experience before he settles down. She's never been in a healthy relationship and frankly, doesn't know what's involved. She's come a long way the last few years, but she's got such a different history she can't relate to this. She's loyal to Rogers and wants him to be as happy as he can be. Trying to set him up with others is just her way of doing that. Don't pay attention to it, because it's not a strike against you. She likes you. She respects you. She just doesn't understand how you can settle down with one person without ruling out everyone else first."

Megan looked up at him. "With over seven billion people on the planet, that's going to take her awhile, even if you cut that number in half to target males, and reduce it further to target adults."

Clint threw his head back and laughed. "I'm going to tell her you said that!" Growing serious again, he pinned her with an intense look. "I mean it. You need to talk to Rogers in the next day or so. As a friend to both of you, I insist on it. Promise me."

"Okay. I promise. I'll talk to him the first chance I get when we're away from prying eyes and ears."

"Mom, I'm fine, really."

"How can you be fine hiding in a hotel?"

"You haven't seen the hotel! Clint set me up in a suite that's close to Steve's apartment and has a kitchenette. It's bigger than my apartment and has a real bed. Someone is bringing me a few changes of clothes and Clint is already out searching for an apartment that's more secure from paparazzi. He said he's going to find something with an attached garage so I can park indoors and not even have to face the media between my front door and my car. And he's taking me car shopping so I get a good deal on that, too. Steve said he was scary good at negotiating with the dealer when Steve got his own car a couple of years ago."

"I don't like you having do deal with all of this."

"Steve is worth it. He never asked for the attention, and we're doing what we can to make the frenzy die down as soon as possible. I'm okay, really. Steve worries about my safety, too, and if I have to have a bodyguard with me when I'm not with him, I'm willing to do that for his peace of mind."

"How is Steve holding up?"

"He's gotten used to dealing with the press and he's more worried about how I'm coping. Really, I'm all right. I'm more concerned that there's going to be a crew parked at the end of your driveway."

"I doubt anyone is going to show up here."

"Well, I'm going to delay visiting for a bit to help keep it that way. But you and Greg need to be prepared for it when you come visit us in a couple of weeks. If you stay with Steve, the paparazzi is sure to notice. But if you don't, he'll be hurt even though he'll never admit as much to you."

"We're not going to let some idiots with cameras keep us from getting to know him better, Megan."

Megan heard a knock at the door. "Hold on a sec. Someone's at the door." Peering though the peephole, she saw Steve holding several boxes of pizza. She opened the door and waved him in as she resumed her conversation with her mother. "Steve's here with dinner. I'll call you in a few days, okay?"

"Give him a hug for me."

"Will do. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Megan hung up and tossed her phone on the bed while Steve set the boxes of pizza down on the table, dropped the bags from his shoulder, and held his arms out to her. "Sorry I left you today."

She buried her face in the curve of his shoulder. "Don't be. You needed to run off the grumpies." She stood there a long time, letting the smell of soap, leather, and Steve ground her. Finally, she pulled back and noticed the bags. "Two bags?"

Steve's brow furrowed. "Clint said you wanted me to…" he trailed off, realizing what Barton had done. "That bastard. I don't have to—"

Megan grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him into another hug. "We can talk about that later. Right now, I'm starving."

"Clint said you didn't eat lunch."

"I discovered that I've got an irrational and extreme aversion to handling guns. Archery in high school didn't bother me, so I know it's limited to firearms. I'll get past it. But no, I didn't eat lunch because I was too nauseated. So now I'm going to hog an entire pizza and leave the other three to you."

"Are there any wine glass around?" Steve asked, heading to the kitchenette.

"No idea. But if not, I'm sure we can get some."

He returned to the table with a corkscrew and two glasses. "Beer is better than wine with pizza."

"Only if you like beer, which I don't. So hurry up and pour me some liquid courage. It's been a long day."

They both ate with silent gusto as the magnitude of the day caught up to them. Only after they were no longer famished did they settle into their familiar routine of conversation and banter. Steve had gone for a multi-mile run that left the paparazzi frustrated and exhausted as they tried to purse him first on foot, then on motorbikes, forgetting that Steve knew routes that used stairs and steep off-road hillside trails. He soon had Megan laughing at the antics he'd used to get some time alone in Rock Creek Park before making his way back to the Triskelion.

Sated and relaxed by the wine, Megan stretched and yawned before pouring herself a second glass. "I have a date with the air-jet tub. It's big enough for two. Join me?"

Steve just looked at her with an expression she couldn't read and she rolled her eyes. "Unless you're hiding a prehensile tail somewhere, I've seen it all before. I promise to behave myself, not that I could do anything against your will, Captain Muscles." She saw him hesitate and prodded, "Be brave, Steve. You can always leave after and go home so the paparazzi don't publish a headline of Captain America shacking up with a single woman overnight. I know you have to be careful about your reputation."

That finally broke through and he shook his head. "I never asked to be portrayed as perfect and I have no intention of playing their games. I'm not ashamed to be seen spending time with you, Megan. Once I put the leftover pizza in the fridge, I'll join you."

"Bring the wine."

A/N: Bec T, I'm intrigued that you see Megan as bossy. I don't. She takes charge in some situations, yes, but she steps back in others. To me, bossy people don't adapt like that. They just keep issuing orders. Megan, in contrast, pushes Steve to take better care of himself, but she doesn't believe she always knows what's best for him. I'm not saying your interpretation is wrong…. just different from mine. All writing is a partnership between an author and a reader. The author paints the broad strokes and fills in most of the picture while the reader brings their own details and life experiences to a story so they can finish it in their own minds.

Ain Sparrow: I like Clint a lot better now that we got to know him better in the last movie.I agree, too, that it's time for Megan and Steve to start coming clean with each other. Clint agrees, and given his life experience as we know it, he's the perfect one to call them on it. AND he was able to explain Nat's continued efforts to set Steve up with dates in Winter Soldier. Thank you, Clint, because that was a thorn in my side until you spoke up and clarified it for me.

Qweb, you have great insight to why Natasha acted like she did with Bruce. In a way, because he's unlike anyone she's known, and he's so peaceful, he's a safe target for her affections. She might be trying out romance for the first time. I need to see the movie again and maybe, I can get on board with the relationship.

Have any of you read about what Marvel made Joss cut from the movie? It makes me stabby in a Buffy sort of way. Those scenes needed to be in the movie. I'd much rather have all of them than the endless fighting and destruction.

Yes, Project Insight is indeed what Ross and Fury were talking about.

The Big Talk is next. I'm working on it now and have had it all laid out in my head for about a week. Hopefully, it comes together on the page the way it did in my mind. There's nothing like being naked in a tub to pull down barriers. Plus, Megan is using liquid courage to loosen her tongue a bit. I'm thinking Steve is probably wishing he had a strong drink, too, but he'll have to rely on Megan's courage to get the conversation going. I can't see him initiating it, but if Megan starts to speak her mind, I think he might open up a bit, too. We'll see if they cooperate while I write as well as they've cooperated in my planning!