After the prisoners were disarmed, cleanup consisted mostly of Skye contacting the Ukrainian authorities and Interpol to let them know what had happened. They didn't want to pay much attention to a young girl, but once Steve identified himself, they were only too happy to take the remnants of the Ten Rings into custody.

"Get used to it," Coulson told Steve while they coordinated loading the prisoners. "In some parts of the world, who you know or who you are count for more than they should."

As he watched the trucks - prison vans for the live terrorists; refrigerated trucks for the dead - lumber away, Steve decided that was something he'd never get used to. But it was also something he didn't have to dwell on just now.

Steve turned away from the departing trucks, scanning the area for Skye. He saw her deep in conversation with Coulson and May, and tamped down the urge to go to her, to reassure himself that they were both still alive. There'd be time - and privacy - for that later.

He surveyed the rest of their group, and his gaze landed on Rumlow and Natasha talking quietly with Clint outside the quinjet.

That was one bit of personal bookkeeping he could take care of now, he decided, and crossed the small clearing to the trio. They fell silent as he approached and offered his hand to Rumlow.

"Thanks," he said. "For the help, and for the save, earlier."

"Yeah, well." Rumlow took his hand. "This time it was personal."

Steve looked startled, then laughed. "In that case, I'll look forward to working with you again."

"I'm available," Rumlow said.

"Are you available now?" Coulson's mild question made Steve turn to see that the SHIELD agents had joined them.

"I could be," Rumlow replied. "What do you need?"

"There's an 084 out there," Coulson said, "and we're trying to track it down. Since nobody knows you're not Hydra anymore, your contacts could be helpful."

"And we have a prisoner who can be difficult," May added.

"That's Nat's purview," Rumlow said, but May shook her head.

"He won't talk to her. He was one of ours - and Hydra."

Rumlow glanced at Natasha, and Steve could almost feel the unspoken communication between them. Then Natasha spoke.

"We're available," she told Coulson, then looked at Steve. "Until the Avengers assemble again."

Steve nodded agreement and resolved to ask Clint what an 084 was.

"In that case," Skye's voice held only the faintest hint of nerves, "maybe I can take a brief leave of absence?"

She stepped closer to Steve, and as she slipped one arm around his waist, he rested his arm on her shoulders.

"Two for one," he said. "And one of those the Black Widow. Seems like a fair trade, Director."

Coulson hesitated only a moment. "More than fair. But only until we find that 084."

Rumlow smirked. "We'll work slowly."

"Not too slowly," Coulson said, a warning in his tone.

"Of course not," Natasha said, but the look she gave Steve told him she'd give him as much time with his soulmate as she could.

Steve smiled down at Skye, then looked at Bucky and Clint. "Let's go home."

#

The gentle stroking of fingers along her hairline roused Skye from sleep. She blinked, even against the dim light of the quinjet's interior.

"Thought you might want to see the skyline," Steve said quietly.

"Skyline?" Skye straightened in her seat, rolling her neck and shoulders to ease the tightness from her awkward position against his side.

"We're almost home." He gestured forward, toward the windscreen at the pilot's compartment, and even from this angle, Skye could see the lights of New York.

The view drew her out of her seat, and she moved to stand behind and between Clint and Bucky for a better view.

The skyline at night took her breath away. "Oh."

"Only got a few minutes before we land," Bucky said. "Look fast."

"Or you could give her your seat," Clint said.

"I could?" Bucky sounded amused.

"What's the point of having a stealth aircraft if you can't use it to keep secrets occasionally?" Clint asked, and Skye wondered if she was supposed to understand the question.

Bucky apparently understood it, because he was unfastening the seat harness. He levered himself out of the seat and gestured Skye to take his place. Once she was seated, he quickly re-secured the harness, adjusting it for her smaller frame.

"Enjoy the view," he told her, then moved back to the rear compartment where Steve sat.

For a moment, Skye did just that. She'd grown up here, and the city would always be as close as she had to a home, but she'd never seen it from the air before, much less seen it as it was now, millions of lights one on top of the other, a jewel against the dark sea they flew over.

Then she had to glance at Clint. "Is this where you impart some worldly wisdom to the new girl?"

Clint chuckled. "No, that's Nat's style, not mine. The view's wasted on Barnes, but I never get tired of it. It's good to have someone to enjoy it with."

Skye studied him another moment, decided that either he meant it or he was going to try to blindside her with his real purpose, and whichever it was, she should enjoy the view.

That was easy enough to do, she thought, drinking in the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building, pointy silhouettes against the blockiness of the rest of New York. And then there was the Tower.

In their world, there was only one Tower in New York, whether it went by Stark Tower or Avengers Tower, and it loomed in the near distance, appearing larger and larger as Clint guided the quinjet home. Skye had heard that Steve had called it ugly once, but to her it had an oddly sinuous grace in its design and she found she couldn't look away from it, even as Clint brought the quinjet in for a smooth landing.

"Here we are," Clint said. "Home sweet home."

Skye released her harness and slipped out of her seat. Clint waved absently, but he was focused on telling the ground crew - which seemed to consist of more robots than actual people - just to refuel, because as soon as his slowpoke passengers disembarked, he was taking off again.

Steve was waiting for her at the top of the ramp, and he offered her his arm like the gentleman he was.

"Bucky's off to see Pepper," he said. "Did you want a tour?"

"Only if said tour begins or ends at a place I can shower and change," Skye said.

"There are plenty of guest quarters," Steve said, and Skye glanced at him dubiously, then had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

His ears had flushed pink, and his expression revealed just how valiantly he was trying to remain totally polite.

"Your place will do," she said, and it was only partly to see his reaction.

She wasn't disappointed. His face flamed, and he ducked his head as if to hide it. Even so, he still guided her to the elevator.

"It's okay, Steve," she said when the doors closed. "I'll take guest quarters if you'll be more comfortable."

"I'll get comfortable with modern standards when it comes to you," Steve declared, and Skye was certain it was a vow. "JARVIS, I'd like you to meet Skye, agent of SHIELD."

"We've met, Captain."

Skye thought the British-accented tone coming from speakers concealed in the elevator sounded familiar, frowned as she tried to place it.

"You have?" Steve sounded surprised - no, stunned.

"She tried to hack my systems not too long ago."

Ah, that's why the voice was familiar. Skye grinned at the memory, only to look up into Steve's disappointed expression.

"It was a bet," she said quickly, "with Tony Stark."

Disappointment shifted to confusion. "When did you meet Tony?"

"He helped us out a while back," Skye said, deliberately vague.

"It was while you and Lieutenant Wilson were searching for Sergeant Barnes, Captain," JARVIS explained. "An unofficial request for assistance."

"Oh." Clearly, Steve was still confused. Just as clearly, he chose to set it aside. "She's also my soulmate, JARVIS. Please give her full access to my quarters and the common areas."

"Done, Captain. And congratulations."

"Thanks," Steve said.

"If there is anything you require, Agent Skye, please let me know."

"A change of clothes, maybe?" Skye said.

"Shall I have them sent to your quarters, Captain?"

"That's up to Skye."

"That'll be fine," she said. "If it's okay with you."

"My quarters it is, JARVIS." Steve smiled at her, and she felt herself growing warm at the promise in his eyes.

Later, Skye would be embarrassed to admit just how little she remembered of the tour Steve gave her. There were labs, a gym or three, quarters for support staff, the flight deck, and three floors of living quarters for the Avengers, plus an entire floor dedicated to common spaces like a living room, kitchen, dining area and game room.

Thanks to an odd mix of fatigue and excitement at being with her soulmate again, those areas all melded into a blurry impression of, "As homelike as state of the art technology can get."

Somewhere during that tour, JARVIS had reported that the standard wardrobe for female guests had been delivered to Steve's quarters. Skye just hoped they'd fit.

"Last stop," Steve said, finally, and the elevator doors opened onto what might have been a corridor in any luxury apartment building in the city. He led her down the hallway to a door, pressed his palm against a scanner inset in the wall where a doorbell might go, and the door slid open.

Steve propped his shield on the floor beside the door, then gestured down a short hallway. "Bedroom and bathroom are down there."

Skye swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. "Y'know, the environmentalists have a saying that seems to be appropriate."

"What's that?"

"Save water. Shower with a friend." Skye looked up at him. "Or soulmate, in this case."

"Sounds efficient," Steve said.

Only it wasn't, because instead of simply getting clean, they spent the shower getting to know each other again. Skye was surprised when that turned out to be more sensual than sexual, the exploration of bodies with soap-slicked hands, long sluicing strokes to lather up and then rinse off punctuated with occasional kisses to lips, cheeks, or other available body parts.

Then Steve's fingers found his words on the outside of her thigh, traced them, and she shivered despite the hot water raining down on them. "Steve."

"Skye." He bent his head, kissed the words inscribed on her skin, and heat zinged through her, her inner muscles clenching involuntarily.

I want to bond with you. The words formed in her mind, but she couldn't say them aloud, not yet. They - she and Steve - were still too new, strangers more than friends, for her to trust that desire was real, not just some sexual impulse gone awry.

Steve dropped another, lighter, kiss to her words, then stood, reaching behind her to turn off the shower.

"Even this place'll run out of hot water eventually," he said. But Skye couldn't mourn the loss of hot water much, because Steve pulled an oversized fluffy towel from the nearby rack and proceeded to pat her dry with a gentleness that bordered on reverence.

When he was done, he wrapped the towel around her and pulled her close.

"What now?" Skye asked, hating how young and insecure the question came out.

"We can get dressed and find food," he suggested, and she couldn't help laughing.

"I am hungry," she confessed.

"But that's not what you meant, is it?"

"Not really. Or not completely." Skye looked up at him. "I still have trouble believing that I've found my soulmate, and I don't want to lose you."

"Neither of us can make that promise, given what we do. But I do promise you'll never lose your place in my heart."

"Even if it doesn't work?" Skye asked. Beneath that simple question were all the fears she couldn't voice. It never works, I'm never good enough, I'll never be good enough.

"Even if," Steve assured her. "But I'm confident it'll work if we want it to and we make the effort."

"Will you? Make the effort, I mean?"

"I will." And he looked down at her with such intense sincerity that her throat tightened and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

"I will, too," she said, or tried to say. She wasn't certain any sound actually emerged from her throat, but even if it hadn't, Steve smiled as if it had.

"Then we'll make it work."