Nikita woke gradually, instinctively staying still and cataloguing her surroundings. She was in a familiar bed, Steve's bed. She could hear his breathing and could feel his hand on her back, his weight in the bed next to her. Though completely out of subspace, the sense of calm was still with her, which was probably a good thing since she didn't really know how she felt about last night or what to do or say now. She could read and speak four different languages (something probably only JARVIS knew as the AI was who she conversed with) but for this moment she couldn't find any words.

Steve watched Nikita wake up, paying vigilant attention to her body language and the bond for any signs of distress. He had no idea how she would react to what had happened the night before. He removed his hand as Nikita rolled over and opened her eyes, looking up at him silently. "Can you tell me what triggered you last night?" Steve asked.

"No," Nikita answered, swallowing past a lump in her throat.

"Okay," he responded. "If you don't want to talk about it I understand. But I do need to know if I did anything wrong last night, if I violated any of your limits." Steve held his breath, hoping that he hadn't screwed up by forcing her down into subspace.

"No," Nikita answered quietly. "I…it was fine…I…." She took a deep breath, "I needed it."

"What do you need right now?" Steve asked.

Nikita rubbed her hands over her face, blowing out a breath. "Alone. I need to be alone right now." With that she got up out of the bed and left the apartment.

Steve wanted to go after her and make sure she would be alright. But he had asked her what she needed, and she had actually answered. Steve knew that he had to respect Nikita's boundaries. He did however ask JARVIS to monitor her vitals in case she needed him.

After a quick shower Nikita grabbed the new gear Tony had made for her and headed over to the Tower range. The new knives were well balanced but were weighted a little differently than her old ones, and she needed to get used to moving with the slightly different fit of the new tactical vest.

The range was equipped with 5 knife targets, Nikita took a stance 20 feet away. She pulled each knife in turn, throwing them at the targets before retrieving the blades and repeating the process. By now the wound in her side had completely closed, but there was still a tightness every time those muscles pulled to make a throw. It took a great deal of focus to consistently hit the mark with the new blades. Nikita did this over and over. If she was going to use the new gear in the field she needed throwing the new knives to become a matter of automatic muscle memory, much as moving with the old gear had been.

The focus required to hit the targets with the new blades allowed Nikita a little room to mull over the events of the night before, but not enough to get too wrapped up in her own mind. She was also still experiencing a deep sense of calm that she figured was one of the after effects of being in subsace. She also felt drained, in a good way. It was as if all of the terror, panic, and rage was - not gone, exactly - but held at bay, the bond acting as a shield. The ground beneath her feet felt firmer than it had in weeks.

Surprisingly, Nikita wasn't really bothered by Steve dropping her into subspace. Like when she had woken in SHIELD medical, Nikita had been unable to control her own mind (which did bother her). Steve taking control and pulling her out of the destructive mental spiral she had been trapped in was probably the only thing that he'd kept her from being physically damaged in both instances. The first time in medical, Nikita had been so full of drugs and overwhelmed with the newness of the bond, that she hadn't really spared much thought to having been put in subspace. This time, however, she was taking time to process (Sam would be so proud).

She remembered very little of what JARVIS had diagnosed as a panic attack, only vague impressions of terror and pain. Then she remembered Steve's voice penetrating that chaos, leading out of that darkness. The next thing she knew she was floating. But Nikita hadn't felt like she was losing herself or floating away, Steve's voice and his presence through their bond had kept her tethered, safe.

Nikita did however, remember everything from the kiss onward. And she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it all. At the time, on her knees being hand-fed by Steve, she had felt his pleasure and satisfaction through their bond (which had been completely open to her for the first time) and it had filled her with a bone deep sense of contentment. She had felt cared for. Now, part of her thought she should be feeling some embarrassment or shame, but it just wasn't there.

And then after, in bed, she had felt Steve's arousal pressed against the small of her back as he worked loose the muscles in her neck and shoulders. Nikita wasn't sure how far she would have let him push before trying to stop him, but Steve had respected the limits they had agreed to in the beginning and hadn't pressed for anything more.

The question was, what happens now?

By this time, Nikita was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, there was a slight but pleasant ache in her muscles, and it was requiring less and less focus to hit the mark on each of her throws. She pulled each of her knives out of their target, wiping them down and putting them away in her various pockets and hidden places.

She headed back to her apartment to shower and change clothes, surprised to find how many hours she had spent in the range. It was Saturday night so Nikita spent the rest of the evening eating dinner and participating in movie night with Darcy, Bucky, Clint, Bruce, Natasha, Tony, Sam and Steve. Neither of them mentioned the night before, though she didn't object when Steve sat next to her on the couch.