A/N: Sorry guys- I dropped a super sharp Chef's knife and my subconscious thought it would be a good idea to try and catch it. Cut my hand to the bone in a few places, and it looked like I got in a fight with Wolverine. It's also hard to type with one hand... hence the delay. This one's a little shorter, but I should be back to regular updates again!

Day 6: Ice Cream

She was gone for a week. She left him at the tower with a lingering kiss that tasted faintly of margaritas and salt before disappearing in the night. An hour later, she sent him a text with a request to look after Hermes followed by a few expletives and colorful terminology that informed him she was on the Helicarrier- if he interpreted 'shitty Millennium Falcon' correctly. He responded with an affirmative. He smiled at the afterthought.

'So does this make Fury, Chewbacca, since we all know you really run SHIELD?'

'It's not wise to upset a Wookie.'

He got that reference.

When he realized Fury had stayed behind, he made an appointment to see the Director the next day. The man in question was waiting for him with an expectant look on his face when Steve slipped into the office.

"Captain," he stated. "What can I do for you?"

"I want you to give Deputy Director Hill a few days off."

Fury raised an eyebrow.

"Do I look like her fucking babysitter?"

"You and I both know she won't voluntarily take leave unless it comes from you," Steve stated.

Fury smiled, and Steve added that to the list of terrifying things he's seen in his life.

"I'm not going to give you 'the speech'," he said calmly. "Hill can fight her own damn battles."

"Yes sir. She could kill me in my sleep."

"Wise man."

Fury studied him closely, and Steve forced himself to remain relaxed under his scrutiny. The director's lips twitched slightly, and Steve swallowed hard.

"Alright, Rogers. You have a week after this mission finishes baring any alien invasions."

"Thank you, sir."

Steve headed to the door before the director could change his mind. He heard him clear his throat, and he turned to see Fury staring at him with a strange expression.

"Try and get her to take you to Chicago," he said.

Steve just nodded, and carefully backed out of the office.

His door rattled noisily a few hours later, and he opened it to see her standing in front of him with a murderous expression.

"What did you say to Fury?" she demanded, her eyes flashing in anger.

He took a step back, considering her warily.

"I wanted to take you away for a break," he replied honestly.

She instantly deflated, her mouth opening before she snapped it shut. She closed her eyes tightly and leaned against the doorframe that seemed to support her entire physical being. His eyes wandered over her pale face and drawn features, and he could visibly see how exhausted she was. She opened her eyes and met his gaze, her own expression pained.

"Shit, I'm sorry. God, I'm a bitch."

He reached out and pulled her towards him, surprised when he was met with no resistance. She folded gently against him, and his hands crept up to pull her closer. Walking backward, he tugged her along and the door to his apartment shut with a click. She drew in a ragged breath and remained in his embrace as he guided them to the couch. She curled up against him, and he reached over to tug the rubber band holding her hair in place. Her long hair tumbled to her shoulders as she continued to stare through him with a slightly vacant expression.

He frowned.

"Maria?" he asked gently.

She blinked, emotion clearing from her face and she stared at him with a guilty expression.

"Fuck it, I'm sorry. I should just go. I didn't-"

She made a move to stand, and he pushed her shoulders back gently. She cocked her head to the side, and he gave her a lopsided grin.

"Stay. I know just what you need."

He quickly strode into the kitchen, and paused. When he didn't hear his door open, he knew he had piqued her curiosity.

Maria glanced back at the kitchen with a small frown. She could hear various thumps as the echo of banging kitchen cabinets traveled to the living room. Steve reappeared carrying two bowls, and grinned as he thrust one into her hands. She couldn't stop the small laugh from bubbling up at the messy ice cream sundae starring back at her. Apparently the super soldier kept a stock of gourmet ice cream toppings on hand at all times.

She took a small bite, the mint and chocolate flavors dancing on her tongue. Perfection. His bowl was already gone by the time she looked up. She flashed him a half smile when he ducked his head. Soon, her own spoon was scrapping the bottom of the bowl, and she put it on the coffee table with a sigh. Looking around, she frowned.
"Have you seen my dog?"

"Pepper's been taking him with her to her office every day. She said he's a big stress reliever when dealing with Tony."

Maria shook her head with a small smile, and curled back into him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she shifted so her head was on his chest. He lifted one hand and absentmindedly ran it through her hair which prompted a content sigh from her lips. Her hair smelled like coconut, he mused, as her breathing evened out. He felt her body relax as she eased into sleep, and he knew she was at her limit. He continued to stroke her hair, and smiled when she subconsciously burrowed closer to him.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Steve looked up.

"Jarvis?" he questioned.

"Agent Romanoff is at your door, sir," the AI replied.

"Can you let her in?"

"Of course, sir."

Natasha entered with her head tilted ever so slightly. It was a motion that was instantly rectified when she saw the sleeping brunette in his arms. She smiled.

"I was going to drag you out of the Tower, but I guess I'll change my mind," she said softly.

"Thanks for thinking of my well-being," he answered dryly.

Her lips quirked upward.

"You're good for her, you know," the redhead started. "I've never seen her like this with anyone."

"I'm afraid I'll mess it up," he confessed and Natasha studied him seriously.

"You're doing fine so far," she replied and headed towards the door. "I'll keep the others from bothering you tonight."

He nodded his thanks as the assassin started to shit the door. She paused, and then looked back.

"She likes warm weather," Natasha said almost as an afterthought.

The door clicked shut, leaving Steve to his thoughts and empty ice cream bowls.