It didn't take long for Steve and the rest of the S.T.R.I.K.E. team to get clearance to return to the field. Martha was right about it being a mere technicality, but it still felt good to get back out there. Their latest mission had just come to an end. A terrorist cell had taken hostages and the rescue mission had gone relatively smoothly, but there were still injuries.

Steve, of course, ran point with Natasha as his second. Clint was called in to assist and Brock Rumlow and the rest of the S.T.R.I.K.E. team rounded out the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents present. Additionally, UNIT had sent in a communications team and Martha led the medical support.

As the team began preparing for the return back to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Steve kept a watchful eye over his team with Natasha never too far away. Brock approached and Steve greeted him with a quick nod. "Status report?"

"Target has been taken into custody," Brock answered. "S.T.R.I.K.E. team present and accounted for."

"And the UNIT officers?"

"They're all here too," Natasha replied at his side.

Steve glanced at her then nodded again in Brock's direction. "Good work."

Natasha watched Brock walk away before turning her attention to Steve. "You seem mighty concerned with the UNIT personnel."

"I don't believe in leaving soldiers behind."

Natasha nodded. "Just make sure you don't drink the Kool-Aid."

Steve arched his brow. "CliffsNotes?" he asked. Natasha once made reference to a book that had been published after he went into the ice then explained the overall plot to him by giving him the highlights like in the CliffsNotes guides that were used by students. Ever since then, whenever he needed a quick explanation of one of her references, he requested the CliffsNotes version.

"Jonestown, 1978," Natasha began to hit the highlights. "Peoples Temple. Jim Jones. Cult mentality. Kool-Aid laced with cyanide. Over 200 causalities."

Steve pursed his lips at the explanation, formulating her meaning in his mind. "I've never been the type to follow blindly," he retorted.

Natasha shrugged. "At least the uniforms are nice."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Really?" Natasha watched him closely. He could tell that the wheels were turning inside her head, but he figured that they always were. "Hmm."

"What?" Steve asked.

Natasha looked forward. "Nothing."

"It's never just nothing with you."

"I'm just thinking."

"Whatever you say." Steve knew there was more to it than Natasha was letting on, but he didn't press the issue. Natasha wasn't the type to give up answers she didn't want to give. If she had something she wanted to say, she'd let him hear it whenever she was ready, whether he wanted to or not.

"Have you talked to that nurse in your building yet?"

"No," Steve answered.

Natasha regarded him with interest. "Why not? Too shy?"

"Too busy."

"Then maybe you should mix business with pleasure," Natasha suggested.

Steve lifted an eyebrow questioningly. "Meaning?"

"I know a few people we work with who are available," she told him. "I could set you up."

"I don't need to be set up."

"Do you have someone in mind then?"

Steve's thoughts immediately drifted to Martha. "I don't have time to…"

"You're the deflecting," Natasha observed. "That's as good as confirmation." She met his eyes briefly. "Should I guess?"

Steve exhaled sharply. "There's no need to guess."

"So it's obvious then?" Natasha looked around as if the answer was walking around waiting for her to find it. "It has to be someone you see regularly," she thought out loud. "Well it's definitely not me," she decided, but still glanced at him to gauge his reaction. "Maria's unlikely. Although…"

"I'm not interested in Agent Hill."

"Hmm. Is it someone from UNIT?"

Steve exhaled sharply. "Is this really necessary?"

"No, but it's fun." Natasha propped her hand under her chin. "What was that doctor's name again? Marla? Marsha?"

"Martha," Steve corrected automatically.

Natasha flashed a self-satisfied smile. "That was easy."

"I'm good with names," Steve replied.

"Just names?" Natasha smirked. "Do you want to play doctor with the doctor?"

Steve shook his head. "I'm not doing this with you."

"Are you feeling feverish? Maybe you should have her check your temperature."

"I'm not faking an injury just to see her again."

Natasha lowered her hand. "It doesn't have to be fake," she replied pointedly. Most people would take her words in stride, but Steve knew that she'd gladly provide him with a real reason to seek medical attention without a second thought.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yea, definitely not doing this with you."

"She's cute," Natasha commented. "Smart. English. That's your type, right?"

Immediately Peggy's face was in Steve's head. When he thought about it, there were certain similarities between the two women. Both of them were beautiful, brilliant and British. And just like he had with Peggy before, Steve found himself wanting to see Martha at every available opportunity.

"I don't have a type."

"Everyone has a type."

"Then what's your type?" Steve challenged.

Natasha tilted her head with a smirk. "Do you really want to know?"

Steve met her eyes. "Would you give me an honest answer?"

Natasha shrugged and straightened her posture. "You should ask her out."

"I don't even know if she's interested."

"How could she not be? You're just so dreamy," Natasha teased.

"I don't know about that," Steve replied dismissively. "But I would like to see her again," he confessed.

"So make an excuse to go and see her," Natasha suggested.

"Like a fake injury?"

"The offer is still on the table."

"I'm not letting you hit me so I can get a date."

"It wouldn't need to be a hit." Natasha appraised him slowly as if she was looking for his weak points. "There are other ways."

"No," he said firmly.

Natasha met his eyes again. "So take someone else to see her," she retorted.

Steve looked around. "Do you see any injured people around here?"

"All the injured have been taken to the medical tent already," Clint said, coming up alongside of them.

Natasha glanced at Clint from the corner of her eye. "How are you doing?"

Clint frowned suspiciously. "Fine." He drew the word out. "Wh—" His question was interrupted by a sudden elbow to the face from Natasha. He immediately pinched his nose to staunch the blood flow. "What the hell?!"

Natasha turned to Steve who shook his head wordlessly. "You should help Barton get to the medical tent."

"Yea. I'll do that," Steve replied. He didn't exactly approve of her methods, but it was an opportunity. He looked at Clint. "C'mon," he said, putting his hand on Clint's shoulder and guiding him off in the opposite direction.

When they got to the medical tent, Martha and her team were hard at work patching up injured soldiers and civilians alike. She looked up as they entered and her eyes immediately went to Clint's bloody nose. "Agent Barton, what happened?" she asked with alarm. She moved over to him to inspect the damage. "You were fine a moment ago."

"Russian hostile," Clint answered bitterly.

If Martha had any idea of what had gone down, her face didn't reveal it. "Have a seat," she told him. "We'll clean you up and get you something to ice it down with to reduce the swelling, and then I'll check you for fractures."

Clint nodded and obediently had a seat on a gurney behind her.

Martha looked at Steve. "If there's nothing else, I can take it from here."

"Actually…" Steve paused and looked around. "Is there anything I could to do to help?"

"You saved these people's lives, Captain," Martha told him with a smile. "I'd say you've done plenty already."

Her words brought a smile to his face. "If one of us is saving lives here, it's you," Steve assured her.

"Is someone going to save my life?" Clint cut in irritably.

"Can someone get a cold compress for Agent Barton," Martha requested loudly. She glanced over her shoulder at Clint then back to Steve. "Do I want to know what happened there?" she asked in a lowered voice.

Steve laughed to himself. "Probably not."

Martha shrugged. "I'm sure Agent Romanoff had her reasons," she replied as she returned her focus to Clint's bloody nose.

Steve smiled at her comment. She was smart enough to figure that much out, but he hoped that she hadn't sussed out Natasha's motivation. "Natasha doesn't do anything without reason."

"I hope it wasn't anything silly like an excuse to get treatment," Martha replied. A medical assistant brought over supplies for her to use to treat Clint's nose and she began washing away the blood.

Steve smiled faltered. "Sorry?"

Martha glanced up. "You'd be surprised how many people purposefully injure themselves just to flirt with pretty nurses."

"Or doctors," Clint added, eyeing Steve over Martha's shoulder.

Martha laughed. "Or doctors."

Clint groaned softly and closed his eyes. "The things people do for love."

"More like lust," Martha countered.

"Don't you believe in romance, Dr. Jones?" Steve asked.

"Absolutely," Martha assured him with a smile. "But when you spend all day patching people up, you tend not to look at patients as potential love matches," she explained.

Steve nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

"If a man is interested, all he has to do is just ask me out for a drink or a cup of coffee," Martha told him.

Clint opened his eyes. "So you like coffee?" he asked.

"Yes." Martha looked Clint in the eyes. "We do drink more than just tea in England," she told him good-humoredly.

Steve watched their exchanged with a furrowed brow. This was an unexpected turn of events. Clint was flirting with her and Martha didn't seem to mind. Had he waited too long to make a move? Was Clint really interested in Martha or was he just taking revenge because he figured out the reasoning behind Natasha's shot to his face?

"You should get her a cup of coffee," Clint said to Steve, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Lady's over here working hard. She deserves a treat."

Once the blood was cleared away, Martha began examining Clint for fractures. "Thank you, Agent Barton, but I think I'll survive without it."

Steve folded his arms across his chest. "Knock it off, Barton."

"Better yet, take her out sometime," Clint quipped. "Get a drink. Get dinner. Get married."

Martha laughed again. "I tried marriage once. It didn't take."

"Too good for him?" Clint asked.

"Too busy," she answered. "We couldn't get our schedules to sync up so we hardly saw each other. We never even got passed the engagement stage."

"I don't know," Clint replied. "A woman who looks like you? I'd make time." He looked at Steve. "But I guess some people can't see what's right in front of them."

"Maybe." Martha followed his gaze to Steve and chuckled. "Maybe not." She returned her eyes to the task at hand.

"Are you done?" Steve asked Clint seriously. Clint responded with a noncommittal shrug and Steve turned his attention to Martha. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Martha looked up again with a smirk. "This is the most entertainment I've had all day."

"Nothing wrong with putting a smile on a pretty lady's face," Clint insisted.

Steve fought the urge to cut his eyes at Clint and instead focused on Martha. "It is a beautiful smile."

"Thank you, Captain Rogers." Martha beamed. "Your smile is pretty nice too."

"Between the two of you, your kids would never need braces," Clint said suddenly.

Martha let out a strangled laugh. "Are we up to kids, already?"

"Cap here is a planner," Clint told her. "The Star Spangled Man with a Plan."

Martha tilted her head to one side and regarded Steve curiously. "Does your plan include impregnating me?"

"Trust me, none of this is my plan," Steve assured her.

"Hmm," Martha responded and returned her attention to Clint. "It's not broken." She handed him a cold compress and stood up. "Use that to help with the swelling."

"She wasn't trying to break my nose. Just the ice," Clint said.

Martha nodded. "So I've noticed."

"She means well," Steve told Martha.

"I'm sure she does, but there are better ways. Ones that don't increase my work load," Martha told him seriously. "Or take me away from serious patients."

Clint lowered the compress from his face. "I'm not serious?" he asked, feigning offense.

Martha scoffed playfully. "Not in the slightest."

Steve nodded. "I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely. "Is there…how can I make it up to you?"

Martha paused to think. "How about you buy me that coffee when we get back and we'll call it even."

Steve smiled brightly. "It would be my pleasure."