"How'd you do?" Nat asks the moment you round the corner into the tiny kitchenette; she's leaning against the dirty looking fridge casually fanning herself with a fistful of cash.

You plop your own contribution onto the linoleum countertop next to her, "$1200, you?"

"Damn. $950."

"Enough to get your hair done, apparently," You nod towards her freshly dyed and cut hair.

"It's box," She quips back, "Wanda did it. You like?"

"It's nice. Really low-profile."

Nat rolls her eyes and pops her cash on top of your stack, "I'll leave the drop-off to you, Cap wanted to talk to you anyways when you got back."

You scoop up the cash, "It does look nice," You tell her as you back out of the room, "Like a young Marilyn." You grin as she plucks an apple from the countertop and heaves it in your direction, catching it easily in your free hand.

You take a bite as you walk into the bedroom; most of the space was occupied by Natasha's tech equipment, monitors and wires-criss crossed across the stained carpet. Steve's lying diagonally across the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes.

"Working hard I see," You approach the bed as he slides his arm down to peep at you. You drop the money onto the bed next to him and sit on the corner of the bed. "Where's Sam? Stretching his wings?"

"Checking on the quinjet," Steve glances down at the cash, "Where'd that come from?"

"Hooking," You take another bite of the apple and laugh at the expression on Steve's face, "Kidding. I robbed a gas station."

"(Y/n)."

"Okay, okay," You chuckle, "Hustling pool. Half of it's Natasha's. Great minds think alike apparently."

"I don't know if I approve," He says reproachingly. "But I guess it's effective."

"It's easy and dependable," You remind him, "And I got free drinks all night."

"Right," Steve shakes his head, "I guess I should be saying thank you."

"You're welcome," You can't help but return the smile he gives you; they were few and far between these days. "So Nat said you wanted to talk to me?"

He looks confused now, "She did? That's weird." Now you internally curse Natasha; she was convinced there was some kind of unspoken tension between you and Steve and often pulled stunts like this, trying to get the two of you alone.

"Must have gotten her wires crossed," You mumble in response. "So no badass criminal empires hocking alien weapons have popped up?"

"Well, Nat thinks she may have found an arms dealer in northern Syria who's using Chitaurean technology to boost their weapons, but it can wait until Sam gets back in a few hours."

"Right," You lean back, letting your head rest against the wall behind the bed, "I'm beat."

"You want the bed? Grab a few hours? I can take the couch."

"Nah," You sigh in response, "You're good. I'm getting up in a second anyways."

At some point both of you must have fallen asleep. You know this because at some point in the early hours of the morning you had curled up in your sleep and now found yourself using Steve Rogers' chest as a pillow. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your cheek, and you crack open your eyes just a little; the light peeking in through the curtains was warm and gold, telling you it was late morning. Natasha and Sam were nowhere to be seen, which was absolutely mortifying, because it meant they both knew exactly what was currently going on.

As if to make things one hundred percent worse, Steve murmurs in his sleep and his curls around you. You have no idea how to exit this situation without things getting really weird. And worse of all, you don't particularly want to. His body feels solid and strong and warm against yours and there's a very big part of you that wants to just throw your leg over his hips and kiss him awake. Fortunately there's enough left of you that knows definitively that you are not the one for Steve Rogers.

"(Y/n)?" Shit. You had hesitated too long. You feel Steve shift beneath you and so you do the obvious; pretend to have just woken up.

"Hmm?" You murmur with not-totally-fake sleepiness, "Oh man, we must have fallen asleep," You state the completely obvious as you push yourself up. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to totally invade your space like that."

You don't like the way Steve's currently looking at you, in that you like the way he's looking at you entirely too much; blue eyes peeking out beneath sleep-heavy lids. His hand still rests against your hip, all you would need to do is just lean down and-

You hop to your feet, "It's late, we should probably get moving." You turn towards the door which is never closed but suspiciously closed right now (definitely Sam and Natasha), and then Steve's hand settles against your shoulder.

"(Y/n), wait," His voice is soft with just a touch of morning gravel, "Just wait. Nat was right. I did want to talk to you." You know your expression is full on deer-in-the-headlights, because you know exactly what is coming. "What we do is dangerous, and you and I both know that tomorrow isn't guaranteed. I just, I think… I know that I would regret it if I didn't at least tell you how I feel about you," He takes a deep breath and his face breaks into a heartbreaking smile, "I'm crazy about you, (Y/n). I've never met anyone like you. You're so beautiful and so good and you don't even realize it."

"I'm not that," Your words come out as a whisper, and his brow furrows as he looks down at you, "I'm not good, and I'm not good for you. We can't do this, okay? We need to move. Check out's at eleven."

His smile falls a little with each of your words and in that moment you absolutely hate yourself. You force yourself to turn away, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach as you open the bedroom door and walk through it; turning your back on Steve Rogers once again.