Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind reviews! They make my day! I appreciate them so much! You guys are the best :D

So, I hope you like this chapter! Originally, it was going to go in a different direction but that changed as I was writing it lol That happens a lot. Hopefully I'll be able to write semi-soon, finals just started for me so my focus is going to be on them for a week. The WS chapters should be coming up fairly soon, but I wanted to give Charlie and Steve enough time to really develop a good friendship. I'm thinking maybe 5 more chapters or less before I start WS. Thank you for being so patient! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Steve moved deftly out of the way from the oncoming kick and smashed his shield into the man's knee. The man cried out in pain and Steve smacked him across the face. The man fell unconscious, no longer feeling his pain. Steve moved between the shipping compartments, taking out anyone who crossed his path.

"Natasha, do you have the suspects?" Steve asked, pressing the button for the radio in his suit.

"Non longer a problem Cap," Natasha replied. There was a scream in the background but it was quickly cut off.

"You were supposed to handle the suspects, not kill them," Steve said angrily. A man approached him and a quick throw of the shield knocked him back into a container. He slid to the ground, still.

"My definition and your definition of 'handle' are different. You have a problem? Talk to Fury," Natasha replied calmly. Steve stopped listening and threw his shield a little too hard at the next attacker. The shield pushed the man into a wall and spun back into Steve's waiting hand. Why did Natasha not follow orders? Steve thought. No that was wrong. She did follow orders, just not his. Steve thought back to Fury and a frown crossed his face. He respected the director but Steve never knew the full agenda. It bothered him. Again, Steve felt like a pawn in a bigger scheme. He placed me as the leader of the Avengers, why take away that leadership? Steve's thoughts were interrupted as bullets clanged off his shield. Steve ducked and rolled, throwing his shield and taking down five guys with one throw.

"Fall back to base. Mission complete," Steve spoke into his radio.

"Roger that Captain," Rumlow responded. Steve made his way back to the S.H.I.E.l.D. plane, taking out twenty more men. The plane or helicopter, Steve wasn't quiet sure what to call it, began to rise and Steve jumped fifteen feet. He landed in a crouch, his shield arm coming down to support him.

"Dramatic much?" Natasha smirked. Steve ignored the comment and walked towards her, the door closing behind him.

"What were your orders?" Steve demanded. Natasha rolled her eyes and looked at Steve. This had become almost routine between them.

"Fury told me to 'take care' of the suspects which means eliminate," Natasha recited. Steve frowned and wanted to refute her but stopped. Fury typically gave Natasha slightly different orders. It hadn't hurt or jeopardized the missions. Yet.

"Everyone here and accounted for and we finished under the time estimate. Well done, Captain," Rumlow slapped Steve on the shoulder. Steve drew his eyes away from Natasha and looked at his team. But was this his team? Steve tried to push away the thought but it stuck like barbed wire in his mind.

"Good work everyone. Rollins, that was a nice take down of the sniper," Steve nodded to the men. Rollins' eyes widened but otherwise didn't react. Steve slapped Rumlow's shoulder and headed to the cockpit. He was tried to highlight one of the men after a mission in an effort to connect, but it never worked. They just looked at him in a strange way and went about their business. Steve checked with the pilots that everything was good and then sat down. He brought his shield around and looked at it. Why did he do this? Why have the shield and the serum if nothing ever seemed to change? You'd think after seventy years, there would have been peace or something. True there wasn't a world war but there were still wars and conflicts. Why? Why keep fighting? Because I want to protect people. I can't stand idly by, watching as people get hurt. I've never been able to, Steve thought. It was the part of him that had gotten him in so many fights, that had given his mother a heart attack countless times, that had needed Bucky to come in a save him, Steve's unwavering sense of justice. Steve rubbed some blood off the shield with a rag, sighing. He would continue to fight for what was right. What if I don't know what is right and wrong? Steve thought.

"That seems kind of pointless," Natasha commented, sitting next to Steve.

"Well, the icon of Captain America needs to be visible. We can't have it covered in blood," Steve responded. He really didn't want to talk to her at the moment but he wasn't bold enough to ask her to move. Besides, even if he did ask, Steve got the feeling the Black Widow wasn't going to move. Natasha shook her head and leant back against the seat. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Steve polishing his shield and Natasha just sitting.

"So, do anything fun between missions?" Natasha asked, growing bored with the silence. Steve looked up in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, watch a movie, go out on the town, find a girl," Natasha insinuated. Steve shook his head and went back to his shield. This was a weird conversation.

"Not really. I've been a little busy," Steve answered.

"Oh come on, you must do something other than missions," Natasha insisted. Steve sighed and tried to think about what he did at home. Talking to Charlie was the first thing that came to mind, but he wasn't telling Natasha that. Actually, thinking about it, he talked to Charlie at least once a day now. Was that weird? Focus, find something to get the Black Widow off your case, Steve thought, feeling Natasha's stare.

"Well, I checked out the Smithsonian the other day. Very big and very cool," Steve said. Natasha rolled her eyes and laughed.

"I meant something modern."

"Going to museums isn't ancient Natasha, there were people when I went."

"And how old were they?"

"…."

"The elderly and children on school field trips. Come on, there must be something fun you've done."

"Obviously not. Do enlighten me about this 'fun' you speak of."

"Since you're walking history, you'll appreciate the berlin wall. Visit it and go up and down the wall," Natasha suggested.

"Berlin Germany? How am I supposed to go there when I have missions?" Steve asked.

"Call in a favor from Stark. He'll get you a private jet and you can go and come back in the same day."

"Alright, I'll write it down."

"You have a list?"

"Yep, because I'm an old man and my memory fails me sometimes," Steve responded sarcastically. Natasha's mouth quirked into a smile. The rest of the plane ride was spent in silence, Natasha with her eyes closed and Steve working on his shield. He really couldn't polish it anymore but he wanted to look busy so no one talked to him. He just wasn't in the mood to have a conversation. The plane landed two hours later and an hour after that, Steve was setting his shield down in his apartment and heading to the shower. He sent a quick message to Charlie saying: Just got back. Went well. How do you know if something is right or wrong?

Steve flopped on the couch after his shower and picked up his phone. A new message from Charlie read: Glad to hear your back and the mission went well There is no clear right and wrong. All problems hold both right and wrong in them. What one person considers right could be wrong for someone else. It's important to understand that. I assume this is relating to the mission? Steve sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Charlie was right. It wasn't black and white, it was more grey. Which is one of the reasons it was so hard to know if he was fighting for the right thing. His phone buzzed in his hand and he looked down. Charlie had written another text saying: If you want my opinion, if you're saving someone you're doing good. Life is important and valuable. Steve nodded in agreement to that statement. He replied:

Thanks, I needed that. Call you in the morning?

Sure! Goodnight Steve

"Why do you tempt me with showing me cinnamon rolls?" Steve groaned as Charlie's face popped up on his phone. She laughed and waved the cinnamon rolls around the camera, making Steve's mouth water.

"You know, I can teach you how to make them," Charlie answered, setting the cinnamon rolls down and sitting at the table.

"I think I should master how to not burn eggs first and then move on to cinnamon rolls," Steve chuckled. Charlie shrugged and smiled.

"So how are you?" Charlie asked. The question held more weight than the simple greeting question implied. She always asked this when they talked and she genuinely wanted to know how he was doing. Where he was mentally, was he hurt physically, those kind of questions. Steve sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Well, the mission went well. No one was hurt, we finished ahead of schedule, but…there were different missions."

"What do you mean?"

"You've heard of the Black Widow right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well I work with her but we're given different missions. It doesn't jeopardize the missions, yet, but it bothers me," Steve explained. He didn't give any more information except that he was working with Natasha. Steve had to remember that Charlie was not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. and as much as he trusted her, he didn't want to give her too much information.

"Well, you guys have different skill sets right?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, we do."

"Maybe that's the reason."

"Why wouldn't I know what she was doing then? If I'm supposed to be a leader shouldn't I know what my team's doing?"

"I don't know Steve. Maybe knowing would interfere with your mission or something. There must be a reason," Charlie said. Steve sat back, thinking about what he'd have done differently if he'd known Natasha's mission. He would have changed how they snuck in, who went where, but then that would have blown their look. It had appeared on the report like they had gone in to apprehend the suspects but they struggled and Natasha took them out. If Steve had changed the mission, it would have looked like an assassination or cold blood elimination. With Steve going in with the idea the suspects were coming out alive, it gave Natasha the freedom to terminate the suspects without being blamed for murder. Steve sighed, resigning himself to the fact that it was a good reason he wasn't told.

"You're right there was a reason. I just don't see why I couldn't be told the plan."

"Would you have approved of the plan?"

"…. No."

"That may be the reason then. It sounds like the Black Widow does some of the undesirable stuff while you withhold the image and morals of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"She shouldn't have to. Why does the undesirable have to happen? I don't understand how people can keep stealing and threatening and kidnapping."

"Steve, we live in a fallen world. Fighting, death, and bad things are going to happen no matter how hard we fight. But the important thing is that we keep fighting, because if we stop, who will fight?" Steve thought about that for a moment. Would people still fight if he weren't around? Yes, S.H.I.E.L.D was evidence of that. Steve had to believe that people would continue to fight, even when he wasn't around. He wasn't the sole person who was fighting, there were hundreds fighting the evil in this world, and he knew a few who were fighting evil elsewhere too.

"Thanks Charlie. I needed that reminder," Steve smiled. Charlie smiled back and the weight on Steve's chest slowly began to lift.

"Anytime Steve. By the way, the oven mitts are coming in handy," Charlie waved the oven mitts he'd given to her on her birthday.

"I'm glad," Steve laughed. Her birthday had been two weeks ago and as soon as she had gotten the present she had called Steve, thanking him profusely. Steve thought he'd seen tears in her eyes but he didn't say anything. It meant a lot to him that Charlie had finally opened up to him. He hated what had happened to her, what she had to live through, but maybe he could brighten her day. Just a little bit. That was his hope at least. He didn't want her to hurt anymore and it was slowly becoming his mission to make sure she was happy. Why? his mind commanded. Because…Steve didn't have an answer. That's just how he felt. Steve and Charlie continued to talk, about anything that came to mind. It was relaxing yet energizing.

"Oh have you seen Peggy again?" Charlie asked. Steve thought back and realized he hadn't seen her since that first time. He'd been distracting himself with missions and talking with Charlie.

"No, but I should. I should talk to Peggy's grandkids too. I did promise them," Steve said. The word "grandkids" still sent a ripple of pain through his heart but he was committed to following his word.

"Maybe that should be your mission for today," Charlie suggested.

"Yes ma'am," Steve mock saluted and Charlie laughed. Her face changed as she listened to someone and then she turned back to Steve.

"I have to go. I'm glad we were able to talk! See you later," Charlie waved.

"Bye Charlie. And thank you."

"Anytime Steve," Charlie's smiling face was the last thing he saw before the screen went dark. Steve stretched and sighed, drinking in all that he and Charlie had talked about. His phone buzzed and Steve groaned, not wanting another mission right now. To his surprise, the message was from Margaret, Peggy's daughter.

Captain Rogers, I hope you're well! I haven't heard from you in a while. The kids and I are going to see mom today and were wondering if you'd like to join us for lunch afterwards? If you're busy we completely understand.

Steve shook his head, amused. Just when I decided to talk to them, they contact me first. Steve replied back with a yes and asked where to meet them. After a few more texts, it was decided that Steve would come a little later, after the kids had seen their grandmother. He would visit Peggy for a little bit and then join Margaret and her kids for lunch at her house. Steve smiled as he set down the phone and got ready to meet the day.