Chapter 18.

Steve rolled over, punched the pillow with frustration and then yanked it over his head. It didn't help.

The rooms in the Tower weren't quite as soundproof as everyone liked to think. Certain sounds travelled. Especially if you were a super-soldier with super-hearing. Clint's apartment was right above his, and he could hear soft cries and moans echoing through the Tower's ductwork. Though that wasn't nearly as bad as Thor's bull-throated roars from the apartment below, interspersed with noisy squeals of ecstasy from Dr Foster.

Oh, dear God, he couldn't take any more of this. Bad enough when Bucky had occasionally brought dames back to the little apartment they'd once shared. Back then, he'd been able to hide in his room, jack off quietly, and fall quickly into exhausted, weakened slumber.

Now, with super-soldier recovery time, he was ready to go again within five minutes and sleep was still nowhere near him. The only small – very small – mercy was that Natasha's apartment was several floors away and he couldn't hear what the beautiful Russian and her pretty Asian girlfriend were doing to each other. Giving up on sleep, he scrambled out of bed and grabbed a pair of sweats, his face burning with shame. He'd hit the gym for a few hours, and pray the lovers had decided to get some sleep by the time he came back.

Steve walked into the gym. It was a private floor specially set up for the Avengers; all their preferred training equipment was in here, including some specially reinforced punching bags Tony had created especially for Steve. He'd only broken one so far, the first time he came back in here after realising Bucky was the Winter Soldier. He started towards one now, only to freeze when he realised someone was here ahead of him.

The small, dark-haired girl from Coulson and May's team. What was her name? Something modern – Skye, that was it. She had her back to him, earbuds plugged into a phone clipped onto the waist of her shorts, fists wrapped, jabbing and striking at a bag, launching an occasional kick. She had some moves, for a girl so tiny. She couldn't stand any more than five foot five and he doubted she weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, but the heavy bag was rocking and swaying under her strikes. Finally she struck a combination, left jab, right hook, knee strike with a devastating scream of anger that had even Steve wincing with sympathy. That knee would have been a groin strike to incapacitate a guy about his size.

At that moment Skye seemed to become aware of him and whirled, fists up ready to defend herself, her exotically slanted dark eyes snapping with rage. She was flushed and sweating – and she was really pretty when she was angry, even in grubby athletics shorts and a sweat-stained T-shirt.

Steve blinked away the sudden awareness and spread his hands unthreateningly, only then becoming aware that he'd neglected to drag on a shirt. Well, he hadn't expected to see anybody else here at this time of night. Not with Clint and Natasha both busy.

Skye stared at him for a moment blankly, and then she dropped her defensive stance and pulled the earbuds from her ears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," Steve said placatingly.

"It's all right." Skye seemed to fold into herself, shrinking down as her fists dropped to her sides. "Should have been paying more attention. W – May would kick my ass for letting someone sneak up on me unawares."

Steve raised his brows. He hadn't come within twenty feet of her. "The only person who could sneak up on you in here is an Avenger, and you have nothing to fear from anyone on this team."

"Yeah. That's what I thought about my old team." She sighed and plopped down rather ungracefully to sit on the mat, tugging at the bindings on her hands ineffectually, and he realised she looked exhausted. "Damn. Would you mind?" She held out one wrapped fist towards him.

Steve cautiously approached, sitting down cross-legged opposite her, taking her small fist in his hands and beginning to unwind the bindings. "So who is it that betrayed you?" he asked in a casual tone. "Is that who you imagine you're beating on?"

Her dark eyes flew to his, and she gave him a quirky little smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Grant Ward. My former SO. Turned out to be HYDRA."

"I'm sorry," Steve offered. "Brock Rumlow, the former STRIKE team leader, turned out to be HYDRA too. I'd liked him. We worked well together. Until he tried to kill me."

"I kind of wish Ward had tried to kill me," Skye sighed as he finished unwrapping one fist and reached for the other. "It would be easier to just hate him. But noooo, he kept claiming he was in love with me and wanted to save me."

"Oh," Steve stilled. "Wow. That must have been – horrible. Did you..?"

"I think maybe I was a little bit in love with the person I thought he was," Skye admitted. Wow, who knew Captain America was so easy to talk to? He finished unwrapping her hand and just sat facing her, blue eyes intent on her face. "But he was a lying cheating HYDRA liar who'd done nothing but lie since the day I met him."

The corners of Steve's mouth twitched up slightly. "That's a lot of lying. HYDRA agents seem to be good at that. They always have been."

"You'd know." Skye smiled properly at him, and he smiled back. "So why are you in the gym in the middle of the night?" she did her best to change the subject. "I woke up from a horrible nightmare of the Liar and JARVIS directed me here when I said I wanted to blow off some steam, what's your excuse? I know super-soldiers do need sleep, I worked with Deathlok briefly."

Steve's eyebrows raised; he'd read Coulson's reports on Mike Peterson. Now that she mentioned it, he did recall reading that it had been a S.H.I.E.L.D. hacker taking control of Deathlok's cybernetic eye that had been the deciding factor in the Battle of Cybertek. "Yes, I do need sleep. About four hours a night is usually sufficient."

"As it's two a.m., you should be passed out by now," Skye pointed out, and stared in astonishment when Captain America started blushing. "What?"

"I, um…" Oh, God. The modern world really wasn't getting any easier, even two years into living in it. "My hearing is enhanced. While the apartments are theoretically soundproofed – they're not quite. Not against my ears."

Skye looked totally blank. Steve let out a groan and passed a hand over his face. "Please don't make me spell it out. My apartment is on the floor in between Hawkeye's and Thor's."

"Oh, my God," Skye started laughing, apparently totally unfazed. "Your team-mates are having loud sex and keeping you awake!"

His flush was spreading down his chest. Skye took one look at him and actually collapsed back on the floor, laughing heartily. Eventually she pushed herself back up, still giggling. "Oh, come on, you should just get your own back!"

Steve really hadn't thought he could blush any redder. Fortunately, he thought of a quick response and said it. "No point. They couldn't hear."

Skye giggled, eyeing his red face. "I'll help you come up with a suitable revenge. I'm the queen of pranks on the Bus."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, I think Hawkeye and Thor are depriving themselves of sleep quite nicely without my help, Skye."

Oh. Wow.

She really liked the way he said her name. Licking her lips, trying not to let him see the sudden arousal that had flared across her right then – as though she hadn't been aroused since the moment she saw him standing there with that ridiculously beautiful chest all bare and golden and lickable – Skye tried to gather her thoughts.

"You can still prank them. And then when they ask why, you can tell them it's revenge for keeping you awake fucking."

His eyes shot wide, and Skye put a hand to her mouth and started giggling. "Oh, dear, I just said fucking to Captain America."

"Twice," Steve said, unable to suppress a grin. Damn, he liked this dame. She was a hoot, and seemed completely unintimidated by him. "I have heard the word before, you know. I just – most times it's soldiers using it as a swear word. Not pretty girls talking about the, er, physical act."

Skye just couldn't stop the giggles. Eventually she managed to suppress them with a hiccup, wiped at her teary eyes and said "Thank you."

"Er – what for?"

"Making me laugh." She gathered her discarded hand bindings and stood. "It's been too long since I laughed. Thank you."

Steve stood fluidly, and sketched her an oddly formal little bow. "Me too," he said with a sad twist to his smile. "I hope you sleep well, Skye."

"You too. When your apartment's finally quiet enough." She cast him a cheeky grin and departed, leaving Steve shaking his head and smiling to himself.

Quite a girl. He wrapped his fists methodically, struck at the punching bag. But his heart just didn't seem to be in it tonight. He frowned. HYDRA. Think about HYDRA.

Grant Ward. The man who'd hurt Skye. Who'd lied to her. Made her care about him, all the while using her for his own ends. Steve's fist struck out hard and the bag jerked. Ward. Grant Ward. Remember that name. Another strike. In his mind's eye, he saw the rage in Skye's eyes when he'd interrupted her, the sorrow when she confessed she'd loved the man she thought Ward had been. He'd tear Ward apart if he ever caught up with him. Steve's fists beat harder, faster, a vicious tattoo on the bag. Grant Ward. You're a dead man. You just don't know it yet.

Skye's hacking her way into Steve's heart a little bit at a time, isn't she? And BTW Ward is pure villain in this (who the hell knows how he's actually going to turn out in AoS and I DON'T CARE. The minute he shot Victoria Hand I was done with him).