The hotel was quiet when they got back. The night manager was on duty, and the restaurant was closed. They stepped into the elevator wordlessly. The ride back up was subdued.
"Why did you come, really?" She asked. She watched his face for any tells.
He paused for a long moment. "I need help finding Wanda and keeping tabs on the others."
He was getting good at lying. It wasn't a lie exactly. It just wasn't the whole truth. She regretted asking the question so directly. So much of their relationship was predicated on plausible deniability. To themselves and everyone else. You're not fooling anyone, she thought to herself.
"Where are you staying?" She pulled out her key card and unlocked the door.
"Not far. About an hour away by train." He nodded vaguely in a direction.
She looked him over. He was every inch Captain America, even without the uniform. Anyone could see that.
"You really do need my help."
He nodded.
She held the door open for him and he followed after her. She checked the bathroom, then the balcony, before locking the doors and drawing the drapes.
"Where's your shield?"
"Safe."
"Good."
"I should probably head back if I want to catch the last train."
Neither of them wanted him to leave.
"It's too risky," she said abruptly. "Everyone has cellphones. If someone recognizes you…"
"It wouldn't be good."
"No. You can stay here. We'll figure out next steps in the morning."
"Thanks."
She nodded.
It was flimsy at best. Her heart was racing, and she wasn't sure she could hear herself think over it. In all of her other relationships, she'd been in control. Cool as a cucumber. This was different. There were stakes.
#
"Bathroom's all yours," she said.
She looked smaller with her hair pulled up and an oversized t-shirt on. It was hard to see her as the lethal spy he knew she was.
"Thanks. And thanks for letting me stay. You didn't have to."
"Don't worry about it."
She began making up a bed on the couch for him. She heard the shower turn on and stood up straight.
#
He heard her call something through the door, but he couldn't hear what. He turned off the water reluctantly. The water pressure was infinitely better here than the little apartment he and Sam had found. And it actually got hot.
"Did you hear me?" Her muffled voice came through the door.
He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.
"No, I didn't." He said, opening the door.
"I said 'don't shave.'" She said.
"Okay." He watched her for any sign that she was joking. "I won't."
"Captain America is clean shaven. You can't be."
"Right."
When he got out of the shower, the room was mostly dark. She'd opened the drapes enough to let in light, and alert them if anyone was on the balcony. He set his folded clothes on top of his suitcase.
The couch at least was comfortable even if it was a bit short. He propped himself up with pillows and settled in to sleep. Moonlight lit the room faintly, and he watched her small form in the big bed across from him.
"Goodnight, Rogers." She murmured.
"Goodnight, Romanoff."
He stared up at the ceiling. They'd been physically closer before. Many times. But never quite this intimate. And there was nothing he could do. The bedclothes rustled quietly and he looked over at the bed once more. Nat had flung both arms up over her head.