Those who've read my other story, Moments, may remember a reference in Bucky's chapter about Natasha absolutely embarrassing Steve the first time they sparred. This is that moment! ;)

enjoy.

"Captain."

Steve paused his workout on the punching bag and let his arms fall to his sides at the familiar voice. "Director," he replied without turning around. "Don't tell me there's another situation already."

"There's always another situation, Cap. That's the thing with the world now."

"Thought you were all about being proactive," Steve said, unable to keep the accusation out of his tone as his thoughts turned to the weapons SHIELD had begun to develop from the tesseract.

Fury doesn't bristle, and Steve isn't surprised. The man seemed to be unflappable, even in the face of direct confrontation. "We try to be. I know you're not pleased with some of my decisions, and that's your right. But everything I've done is in service of trying to keep people safe."

Steve lets that hang in the air for a moment before he turns around. "So, what's the situation?"

"No crisis. Just thought you'd want to know how the recovery operation in New York is going," Fury said, stepping forward to hand him what he'd learned was called a tablet. Steve took it and glanced down at a photo of workers recovering some alien technology. The clarity in the picture was astounding, let alone the fact that it was displayed on such a small device that clearly had more capability than just showing photos. "You can swipe to see more," Fury instructed after a moment.

Steve frowned. "Swipe?"

"Yeah," Fury said, reaching over to swipe his finger across the screen. Steve blinked in surprise when another photo appeared.

"Oh," Steve replied, feeling once again just a touch overwhelmed with the world. He dragged his finger across the screen like Fury had done to see the next photo and then repeated it several more times. "What's the cost of the total damage to the city?"

"The number wouldn't mean anything to you."

"Try me," he presses.

"Best guess? Upwards of 50 billion. Probably much more as we locate and assess other damage."

Steve blinked. He definitely hadn't figured the number to be that high. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"That's why I'm here, actually. Not sure what your plans are, but I wasn't just being polite when we talked after you first woke up. The world can still use Captain America, and there's a place at SHIELD for you if you want it."

"Why would I want to work with SHIELD?" he asked.

If Fury was offended by the question, he didn't show it. "Because we're the ones fighting the battles that others can't. We're the ones keeping the lid on the things that the public doesn't and shouldn't know about."

"And you need me for that?" Steve asked, doubting whether a man who ran a high-level intelligence organization really had a need for a soldier like him. He supposed it was more about ensuring he wouldn't get in the way.

"No," Fury admitted, and Steve was a little struck by his honesty. "But we'd be stupid not to ask. You have a skillset we can use, Rogers."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't. Trust is earned. But remember that I was the one arguing against the World Council's decision to launch that nuke on Manhattan."

Steve considered it. He did have a point. And it's not like he had a concrete plan of what he was going to do next. "Let me think about it," he said.

"Good, that was good."

Steve grimaced at the patronizing remark. "It was terrible," he argued.

"No, no," his instructor placated, "it wasn't that bad."

Steve couldn't help the exhale of frustration he let out. The instructor assigned by Fury was a fan of Captain America, and apparently that translated to him being able to do no wrong, even if he was terrible at the new fighting techniques the man was trying to teach him.

"Sherbrooke. You're dismissed."

They both turned toward the source of the voice, finding Deputy Director Hill in the doorway to the training room.

"Ma'am? I'm under orders from Direc-"

"I know what your orders are, Sherbrooke. You've been reassigned. Report to Agent Riley this afternoon at two. There's a new batch of trainees in need of some instruction."

Steve turned to see the reaction of his apparently now former trainer. He looked frustrated and a bit dejected too. He held out a hand to shake and mumbled an "It's been an honour, sir" before he grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

"Ma'am," Steve said politely with a nod as she came closer, passing by Sherbrooke on her way into the training room.

"Director Fury asked me to oversee your training. I'm sorry to say that when he brought you in, our top instructors were otherwise engaged. Sherbrooke's a good instructor, but he's better suited for teaching the trainees."

Steve wasn't entirely sure what to say, so he remained quiet, waiting for Hill to continue.

"Instead of another instructor, we've assigned an agent to train you. She's going to bring you up to speed on hand to hand combat, tactical maneuvers, protocols, weapons, and anything else she deems necessary."

Steve nodded. "Yes, ma'am. When do I start?"

"Right now."

He spun around at the new voice, finding none other than Agent Romanoff standing in front of him. There was clear amusement dancing in her eyes as she held his surprised gaze. He hadn't heard her come in or approach him, but something told him that shouldn't be a surprise to him.

"Ma'am," he said politely with a small nod.

"Romanoff is fine," she replied, holding up a hand. "Save the ma'ams for Hill."

"Watch it, Romanoff," Hill warned, "or I'll see to it some more paperwork makes its way to your desk."

"That's just mean, Hill," Romanoff retorted as she tilted her head and shot an unimpressed look to the Deputy Director. It was clear to Steve that they had a good relationship and the threats and jabs were only playful.

"Perks of the chain of command," she retorted dryly. "I'll leave you to it," she said before turning to face Steve, uttering a "Captain" with a nod, and then walking toward the door.

He turned to face Agent Romanoff. "Good to see you again."

"Likewise," she replied with a nod.

"How's Agent Barton?" he asked. He didn't know the man well, but he knew it couldn't be easy to recover from being brainwashed.

"Recovering," she answered vaguely before redirecting the conversation swiftly. "I watched your last two sessions with Sherbrooke. They were terrible."

He grimaced. "Guess I'm not the best student."

She rolled her eyes. "Quit being polite. He was too busy not wanting to offend Captain America to actually teach you anything useful. He's a good instructor for the trainees, but he was clearly star-struck." He smiled guiltily at her accurate assessment. "Lucky for you, I don't have that problem."

"So, what's the plan?"

She grinned and Steve couldn't help but think it was maybe just a touch devious. Like she was looking forward to embarrassing him, the revered Captain America. He watched as she removed her shoes and stepped closer to him. "Attack me."

He frowned immediately. "What?"

"Attack me," she repeated, waving one hand toward herself in an invitation.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He knew there were women who could hold their own - Peggy was a prime example - but he also knew he was much bigger and much stronger than her and it was likely only a matter of time until he hurt her.

She rolled her eyes again. "God, Rogers," she said, exasperated. "You watched me take on aliens in New York, and you know I took down Barton on the helicarrier. Don't worry about me, I can handle myself. Now, attack me."

He let out an exhale in a sign of his reluctance. He assumed a fighting stance and took a couple steps toward her to close the distance between them hesitantly. He eyed her stance carefully and lunged for her left side when he saw her shift her weight.

Before he could even get close to hitting her, he found himself on the ground, staring up at her. It was a complete blur, and he honestly couldn't have told anyone what had happened. He'd known she was an accomplished fighter, having seen her take down dozens of the aliens with swift and agile movement, but he hadn't realized she was that accomplished.

She grinned. "Not going to lie, I expected more, Captain." She held out a hand to help him up. "Ready to go for real, yet?" she asked as he reached his feet.

He ground his teeth and moved forward to attack again, this time much quicker. But again, before he could get close, he found himself on the mat, this time face down. And he still wasn't quite sure how she'd managed it.

Clearly he had underestimated her, but he'd always been a quick learner in the right conditions, and this time when he moved to attack, he avoided her sweeping leg that had taken him down before. She easily dodged his punch, and before he realized what was happening, she'd somehow taken him down. Again.

"Better," she assessed, holding out a hand to help him up. "Let's go again."

"You really think this is the best way for me to learn?" he asked, a bit frustrated. It had been a long time since he'd been at a complete loss in the physical sense of things and he found the familiar feeling uncomfortable.

She shrugged. "Experience is the best teacher, and I need to assess what I'm working with. Stop stalling, let's go."

He moved to attack, but this time he opted to throw in a feint before he punched forward. She'd read his move easily though, and deftly sidestepped his attack before vaulting up onto his shoulders and twisting her legs to bring him down.

Steve exhaled harshly as he shoved her legs off him and pushed himself back up onto his feet.

She was already up on her feet, bouncing lightly from one foot to the other in a rhythm. She threw him a grin that was cocky. "C'mon, Rogers. Show me some of that famous Captain America brawling I've heard so much about. Or can you only do that with a shield?"

"That's not helping," he said, rotating his arms a couple times to loosen the muscles.

"I'd say it is," she argued, that slightly devious smile still ever present.

He feinted a move forward and waited for her to react before he moved forward for real. He emphasized a right hook attack while jabbing his left forward at the same time, finally managing to hit her body. He heard her let out an involuntary exhale and started to stand up, but she pressed on and he once again found himself on his back staring up at her.

"Now you're just offending me, Rogers."

He frowned. "How exactly am I offending you?"

"I'm not made of glass, and I'd appreciate it if you stopped acting like I'm inferior just because I'm smaller than you. Or are you just misogynistic?"

"I don't want to hurt you," he explained.

"I'm a big girl, I can take it. Now, last chance or I walk and tell Hill and Fury to find someone else. And believe me, there's no one here who can teach you more than I can."

He eyed her appraisingly, finding nothing but truth in her gaze. He's a little shocked to find that she appears to be genuinely angry that he's actively trying not to hurt her, but then he remembered Peggy sympathizing with him about always being second-guessed and passed over. It hurt to be dismissed out of hand because of what people saw.

"You sure about this?" he asked, still reluctant to go full tilt.

Her expression shifted and a less devious and more playful smile played on her lips. "Yeah. It'll be fun."

He mirrored the smile at her call back to her words before launching into the air and grabbing hold of the flying alien vehicle. He'd been in awe of her then, and he realized at that moment what a hypocrite he'd been. She wasn't some delicate girl. She was a hardened and accomplished agent. She deserved his respect. His full respect.

He moved his neck from side to side before assuming the fighting stance again. She shot him a cocky grin again and waved her fingers at him, inviting the challenge.

He paused for just a moment before he flew into action. He amended his previous strategy and was pleased when he managed to find a bit of success. His fist made contact with her side hard, and he couldn't help the wince that spread on his face at the feel of her recoiling. But he shook it off quickly, knowing she'd be coming for him in retaliation. He blocked her first and second attacks but was overwhelmed by her third. As they were both falling to the ground he tried to twist out of her grasp but was surprised by her strength that didn't allow him.

"Finally," she said, holding a hand out to help him up, "something I can work with."

"Are you okay?" he asked immediately. He'd hit her hard. Not full strength, but pretty close.

She waved him off. "I'm fine." He eyed her doubtfully. "Trust me, I've had worse."

That proved to be a turning point for him, and she began to actually teach him some new techniques. He quickly realized that she hadn't been boasting when she told him no one else could teach him as much as her. She seemed to have an endless knowledge of different fighting techniques, and he wondered just how she'd learned so many different disciplines because she didn't look much older than him, years in the ice notwithstanding. And she was an excellent teacher. Not only because of her vast knowledge, but also because she seemed to have an intuitive understanding of when he had fully grasped a concept and when he needed further instruction. She also proved to have a good sense of humour, enjoying goading him with some banter, and while he didn't yet feel comfortable volleying it back to her, he thought that maybe one day he might be.

They worked out for another few hours before she called a halt. "You got plans for dinner?"

He shrugged. "Might grab some food from the diner around the corner from my place."

She shook her head immediately. "C'mon, let me take you for some real food. You liked the shawarma, right?"

He nodded, remembering the flavourful meal he'd enjoyed after the long and hard battle in New York. He'd been exhausted and the thought of chewing had seemed like an unnecessary mountain to climb, but the meal had been worth it - it'd been the most flavourful dish he'd ever had.

"Then I know just the place. Get cleaned up and meet me back here in 30 minutes. We'll take my car."

An hour later they arrived at a favourite restaurant of Natasha's, which she claimed had the best Greek food in the city. Steve had been surprised to find the owner incredibly happy to see her, and even more surprised when they were personally ushered by him to a private dining area at the back of the restaurant. His curiosity must have been obvious in his expression because once they were seated she smiled and began to explain the special treatment.

"A few years back I came here not long before closing to grab some food after a mission. Some street thugs thought it would be a good idea to try and rob the place. I disagreed." Steve chuckled lightly at her droll description. "Nik was overly appreciative and promised me free food and discreet service whenever I came around. That the food is so great is a nice bonus."

"You come here often?"

"Not as often as I'd like."

"Fury keeps you busy?"

"You could say that, yeah," she answered offhandedly as her eyes scanned the pages of the menu quickly. Steve looked down to find mostly Greek words, with a bit of English here and there. Thankfully, she seemed to sense his predicament. "Anything you don't like?"

He shrugged. "I'm not really picky."

She nodded in understanding, and he got the sense that she understood his answer for what it really was - an admission that he didn't really know any of the food on the menu. He was starting to understand that she was very good at reading people and wondered how much of an open book he was to her.

"If it's okay with you, I can just order a variety of stuff for us."

He smiled appreciatively, knowing it would save him from blindly guessing at what to order. "Fine with me."

The owner himself appeared shortly after to take their order and she rattled off a long list of dishes in what appeared to be fluent Greek. Steve was initially surprised by her fluency in the other language but realized quickly it made a lot of sense for a spy to know multiple languages. He knew some French and German from exposure to it during the war, but that was about it. He made a mental note to see about brushing up on that French.

"Hope you're hungry," she quipped once the owner had disappeared to put in their order. "That definitely wasn't my regular order, and I'm pretty sure Nik thinks I'm crazy for ordering that much food for two people."

"Don't worry, I brought my appetite," Steve confirmed with a smile, wondering if she knew his metabolism required far more food than the average guy. Judging by the amount of food she ordered, he supposed she did.

"Good. Otherwise I'm going to look like an idiot with all this food."

He grinned at the joke and found himself happy to be spending some time with her. He'd gotten to know all the Howling Commandos so well that they were able to function as a well-oiled machine, jumping into combat situations seamlessly as a unit. But the people he'd fought alongside in New York, who he assumed Fury wanted to be ready to be called on for another threat of that level, he knew next to nothing about. And that didn't sit right with him. Even if he wasn't going to be fighting alongside them in the same way as he had with the Howling Commandos, it seemed like a good idea to at least get to know the people he might be suiting up beside again at some point.

"So, how are you adapting to the world? I can't imagine it's easy being told nearly 70 years had passed," she said, interrupting his thoughts.

"No," he agreed, "definitely not. But I'm learning."

"A lot's changed."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"SHIELD give you resources for a crash course in current American culture?"

He nodded, noticing that she seemed to speak from experience on the matter. "Yeah, it's been helpful, but it's…"

"A bit overwhelming?"

"Yeah," he breathed out with a bashful smile.

She smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it."

"I sure hope so," he replied.

Again, to him it sounded like she was speaking from a place of personal experience and he wondered why she might've needed to have had a crash course in American culture. He contemplated asking her just that, but before he could say anything the owner of the restaurant reappeared with some plates of food. It was then that he became painfully aware of just how hungry he really was once the scents hit him.

"What is all this?" he asked, gaze drifting over the different plates filled with food he'd never seen before.

"Fried zucchini, hummus, fried cheese," she began listing off as she pointed to each, "a pastry with spinach and cheese filling, pita bread, fried meatballs, and these are two different dips." His eyes widened at all the choices. "And this is just the appetizers."

"This looks amazing," he said honestly, a little overwhelmed by the tantalizing aromas and vibrant colours.

She smiled at his earnest words. "Hope you like it."

He nodded and let her start before he began to load a sampling of things onto his plate. "So, do you mostly work solo missions?" he asked. "Or are you and Barton paired up?"

"Depends on the situation. Sometimes I work in a part of a Strike team along with Barton and a few others, and sometimes I'm working solo on deep undercover missions."

"That's gotta be hard, being away from your family and friends."

"Don't have much in the way of family. Most SHIELD agents at my clearance level don't, actually. Just makes things easier."

He blinked as he processed her answer. It made sense, but was a bit disheartening to hear, especially in a tone so casual. Then again, he had no family or friends left either, so...

"How long have you worked for SHIELD?"

"Long enough to be qualified to get assigned to train you," she teased, glancing up only briefly from her task of spooning some hummus onto her plate. She stabbed a fork into one of the pastries and took a bite before sliding it onto her plate as well. "Oh, make sure to get one of these. Definitely up there with the best I've had."

"What do you mean 'up there with the best', hmm? You eat at other Greek restaurants?"

Natasha laughed as Nik appeared at the table, more plates of food stacked impressively in his hands and on his forearms. "Only when I'm in Greece, Nik. You know I would never step out on you."

"Good," he said, sliding the plates filled with meat and vegetables onto the table. "I was worried. I didn't see you for months."

"Work," she explained apologetically.

"You work too much!"

"Says the man who I'm pretty sure has a pillow hidden somewhere in the kitchen here."

Nik laughed heartily, and Steve could tell there was a genuine fondness between the two of them. He wondered exactly how long ago they had met.

"Let me get you some wine," Nik said, snapping his fingers toward one of the waiters who had followed him into the room. His gaze slid over to Steve, "or some beer?"

"Couple of beers sounds good, Nik," Natasha answered for them both. "Thanks."

"She must like you," Nik said after gesturing to his waiter to bring the beers. "She doesn't bring anyone here with her. You're someone special, hmm?"

"Just a colleague," Steve explained with a shake of his head and a smile. His gaze met Natasha's and he found her looking at him with amusement in her eyes again.

"He's never had Greek food before," she added.

Nik's eyes widen. "Never?"

Steve shook his head. "Nope."

"What have you been eating instead? Sushi? Burgers?"

"Nothing this delicious," Steve replied easily with a smile. It wasn't a lie. The food was delicious. The waiter appeared and put their beers down on the table.

"You did a good thing bringing him here," Nik said, his gaze drifting back to Natasha.

She laughed. "I thought so."

"If you need anything, let me know," he instructed seriously. "Anything, okay?"

The plates had continued to flow out of the kitchen to their table for the better part of an hour. Steve quickly realized that Natasha hadn't been joking when she said they would've thought her crazy to order that much food. It was probably enough food to feed a small family. For his part, Steve devoured the food. He'd been living mostly off the diner food from the place around the corner from his apartment and SHIELD cafeteria food, so the hearty Greek meal was a welcomed change.

Conversation between them had slowed while they ate, but it hadn't stopped altogether. She regaled him with tales of her and Barton on missions, and he told her stories of the operations the Howling Commandos had undertaken. But it wasn't until dessert appeared on the table that Steve managed to ask the question that had been on his mind all day.

"Why'd you agree to train me?"

She held his gaze for a moment, no doubt searching for something in his expression. "Well, to be honest Fury didn't exactly ask. It was a very pointed suggestion." His eyebrows rose in surprise and then dropped into a frown and she waved off his worry quickly. "Don't sweat it, Rogers. I'm seriously behind on my paperwork anyway. Pretty sure Hill is this close to taking out a hit on me," she joked.

"Are you sure? I'm grateful, of course, but it does seem like you're overqualified."

She laughed. "Thanks for that. Nice little stroke to my ego."

He couldn't help the slight blush. "Well, you did take me down several times today pretty easily."

"Only because you're too polite. Times have changed, Rogers. Sometimes the bad guy's a little lady who looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly."

"How was everything?" Nik asked, appearing just as Steve finished off the last of his plate.

"Amazing," Steve answered honestly. He would definitely be having Greek food again. Hopefully soon.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it. We had some leftovers in the kitchen, so I put together a bag for you to take home," he said.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

Nik waved off Steve's protest. "Any friend of hers is a friend of mine. And besides, we can't have you go back to eating just burgers!"

Steve smiled appreciatively and took the large bag he was handed. Apparently he'd be eating Greek food again sooner rather than later. "Thank you. Really, I appreciate this."

"Of course, of course. We're all closed up front, but please take your time. I'm going to be around cleaning up so I can close back here whenever you're done."

Steve's eyes widened slightly when he glanced at his watch. He hadn't realized how late it was.

"We'll get out of your way, Nik," Natasha said, rising to her feet. Steve followed suit immediately, setting down the bag of food on the table as he reached for his wallet. "Your wife will have your head if you're late."

"She won't mind. She's going to be sad she missed seeing you."

"Next time," Natasha promised with a smile, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to each of Nik's cheeks. "Now, how much do I owe you?"

"No, no," Nik said, backing up and holding up his hands. Steve's eyes widened a touch as he froze with his wallet in his hands. He'd thought Natasha had been kidding about getting free food. "No charge. You know that."

"You're sure?" Natasha said, holding her own wallet open in front of her. "I could charge it to the company card," she added, her eyes twinkling with mischief when her gaze met Steve's.

"No," Nik repeated firmly, his gaze unwavering. Natasha tilted her head in a challenge and Nik responded in fast Greek that Steve took to be a reaffirmation that they were absolutely not paying for the meal.

"Fine," Natasha relented reluctantly with a sigh. "I wish you'd let me pay you one of these times."

Nik pretended not to hear her and instead walked them to the door. "Not so long until next time, okay?" he said.

Natasha nodded. "I'll see you soon, Nik."

"Thanks again for dinner," Steve said, holding out a hand. Nik smiled widely, grasped the proffered hand tightly and shook it as he said something in Greek.

"He said he hopes to see you again soon," Natasha translated.

"I thought you were kidding about the free food," Steve said as they walked back to her car.

"He never lets me pay. I've been trying to for years."

"I feel bad, that was a lot of food."

"Believe me, nothing you said would have convinced him. Besides, I slipped $300 into his pocket when he hugged me."

Steve blinked in shock but recovered quickly. "He's gonna be angry next time you go, isn't he?"

She smiled. "Maybe. He doesn't always remember to chastise me."

"You do that every time you eat there?" he asked, getting the impression that she absolutely did. And probably left healthy tips too.

She nodded. "Yeah. It's a family business, and I know every penny counts for them."

"That's nice of you."

"Don't spread it around, Rogers, but I'm not as heartless as they make me out to be."

He stopped walking and turned to face her, thinking of her actions in New York to save civilians, her efforts to teach him, and taking him out to dinner. "I don't think you're heartless. Not by a long shot."

She held his gaze for a long moment, again searching for something that he wasn't privy to. She seemed to find whatever it was she was looking for though, as she nodded and they continued walking.

"You're not going to let me pay you back either, are you?" he asked, breaking the silence after a few moments.

She laughed. "Not this time. Next one's on you, though. Maybe I'll take you out for sushi then."

So this actually all came from one line that popped into my head about how 'sometimes the bad guy's a little old lady who looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly' and grew from there.

I'd love to hear any thoughts you have on this, or any suggestions for future conversations to tackle. Your feedback and support is always appreciated! :)