"Natasha?"

She grinned, biting on her bottom lip quick before she turned to look back at him, blue eyes wide as she stared up at him in wide-eyed innocence. "Hey Steve! I didn't think you would be home." It was a lie; she knew everything about everyone's schedule. Call it weird, but there were just days when a girl had to walk around naked, and she wasn't about to give them all a free show.

His eyes were wide, taking in the matching blue and white checkered skirt and cardigan she'd thrown on while she waited for her hair, dyed blonde and grown long for a mission, to set in its curlers. His gaze focused for a moment on her lips, painted fire truck red, and she bit the bottom once again. She could practically hear his heart skip a beat.

"Y-yeah." How cute, he actually stuttered. "You look . . . You look absolutely gorgeous."

"Awe, you don't have to say that Steve." She moved a hand to rest it on his well-toned shoulder, squeezing the muscles gently. He nearly jumped with surprise, eyes flying up to meet hers. She couldn't have been happier to see that they were slightly glazed. "But you're sweet for saying something so nice."

"Of course. Can I, uh, could we maybe go out to dinner, or grab coffee sometime? If you want?" He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his head, cheeks staining a quick pink as he tripped over his nervous tongue. She giggled, and his eyes flew back up from the ground to rest on her face. It was unlike her, she knew, but she needed him to trust her. This wasn't going to work if it didn't.

"I would love to," she said, emphasizing the second to last word, standing up on her tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. The red print of her lips stained his skin.

"Tonight at six sound fine to you?"

"Yeah, sure."

His lips split wide in a grin as his expression lit up. "I'll, uh, pick you up at your room."

"Sounds perfect. See you then, soldier." She winked before turning and flouncing away, hands held behind her back. As she was about to turn the corner she threw one more grin his way, pleased to see that he'd been watching her walk away, before she left. Perfect. Now the real work began.

Nat had had it in her mind to discover what the guys liked for some time, starting with Steve. It wasn't that she didn't trust them all, because in her own way she did, but it helped her feel secure to know the preferences and tastes of the men she worked with.. It could never hurt to keep her options open, and she would take being safe over being sorry any day. These men could change their minds as swiftly and easily as any other, and when that time came she wanted them all to remember exactly why they could not lose her.

Her outfit that night was a knock out, if she said so herself, and she'd had Jarvis send a message to Steve to take a car instead of his bike tonight. No way was she going to try and keep a skirt under control on that monster, even if it was gorgeous and made her knees go weak. She surveyed herself one last time, flattening out the deep blue material, before there was a knock at the door. Five minutes early. Someone was eager. As she crossed over to the door her kitten heels clicked softly on the wooden flooring, and with a wide lipped smile she opened the door.

Her heart might as well have jumped out of her chest. Steve might as well have stepped out of a documentary of the forties, his hair styled just so and his army dress uniform freshly pressed and hugging his muscles in every way it should. Hot damn. 'Two can play at that game.' She couldn't help but notice how his eyes looked over the dress she'd picked up three weeks ago while she was still in the planning phase, and was pleased that even he couldn't resist the swell of her bust barely noticeable in the sweetheart neckline. It was tasteful; plunging necklines weren't the way to go with Captain America, but this one hinted just enough to keep him interested all night with the promise of a little more.

"Captain." She made her voice go airy, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. "You look so dashing."

"Thanks very much ma'am." There was just something perfect about the way those words sounded in his voice, wrapping around his lips and tongue until she thought she might be a puddle on the floor. Just because she had a destination in mind didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the ride. He offered her his arm. "Are you ready to go? I know I'm a little early."

"You're just on time," she told him as she looped her arm around his and let him steer her outside. A car was waiting for the both of them, and after a short drive the ended at the local VFW just inside of the city. Natasha turned to look at Steve, intrigued.

"They're serving dinner, too."

"Too?"

"Oh, I hope you're ready for this ma'am." He shot her a quick, devilish grin. "We're going dancing tonight."

Well color her impressed. She smiled as she got out of the parked car and let him lead her inside. He nodded his hello to those who greeted the pair of them, most of whom were familiar faces to him at least, and they all certainly remembered him. Several of them had even been at one or two of his USO performances as the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. Natasha smiled as they swarmed and swapped war stories, going back and forth about the good old days, before Steve remembered his manners and led Nat over to the table he'd reserved for the pair of them. Apparently Captain America made a regular appearance for spaghetti night. "Muriel makes the best that you've ever tasted," he promised Natasha with a wink.

She really did, Nat had to admit, once they'd finished, that she couldn't have pictured a better evening spent between herself and the Captain. After dinner had been the dancing that Steve had promised her, with a live band providing the classics that Steve and the other veterans had grown up with. Steve hardly let her go for the entire evening. Not that she minded; she couldn't have pictured a better way to spend what would have been a rather boring evening. Well, she could, but as all of the other scenarios involved a gun in her hand and a target in front of her eyes she didn't think it appropriate to consider.

"When did you start coming here?" Nat asked in between of dances. "And you're an excellent dancer, Steve." She knew he was light on his feet, but she didn't know he could dance as well. He'd just been teaching her the Charleston, the third dance of the evening, when she'd admitted that she needed a momentary break. Her feet were aching, though she played it up as needing a drink of water. She was supposed to learn Steve's weaknesses, not admit to one of her own.

"After Manhattan, I got approached by Grant over there," Steve pointed to the bass player of the band before he took a seat beside Natasha. "He didn't know I was living in New York, recognized me from the attack, and asked me if I could come by and speak to the veterans. It just became a weekly thing." He said with a smile, sipping at his own glass of water. "And my dancing is a secret." He winked. Nat laughed.

They stayed for another hour and a half, dancing and socializing. By the time eleven rolled around Steve carried Natasha out to the cab he'd called, her heels balancing on her lap. She protested, but he wouldn't hear anything of it.

"I know they have to hurt more than you let on, Nat." He admonished with a smile. She couldn't help but smile back, amazed at just how well he'd been able to read her. She'd need to work on her mask when it came to pain, then.

"Thanks Cap," she whispered leaning up to kiss him slowly on the lips before he could put her in the back seat. When she pulled away he was reluctant to let her go, eyes blown wide when he finally opened them to look at her again. Good, she wanted him wanting. The drive back to the tower seemed to take longer than before, though they filled it with their favorite parts of the evening, Natasha admitting that she'd have to try and replicate the tomato sauce used that evening, and Steve complimenting her on her lightness of foot.

"I used to do ballet," she told him with a casual shrug. He looked over quickly at her, surprised.

"Really?"

"A long time ago." She smiled. "But I miss it. Maybe you can take me to the ballet some time and I can show you my kind of dancing."

He grinned and nodded, telling her he'd like that very much as he drove the car into the garage. Natasha's heart tattooed a fast beat against her ribs. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this excited for something, or nervous, she was surprised to find, but she kept her calm face on as she asked him to walk her up to her room. He seemed to feel the same, fingers twitching against the sides of his pants as they waited in the elevator, but neither said another word until they were standing outside Natasha's door. She leaned up on her tip toes, heels in hand, to kiss him once more.

"Wanna come in?" she asked, moving her lips to whisper in his ear. She watched him shiver, her left hand seating itself on his shoulder. He licked his lips slowly, still able to taste her, and nodded.

"Yeah. That'd be great." His voice was hoarse and she grinned as she gripped his tie and pulled him into her room, walking backwards and tossing her heels aside as they made it inside. He shut the door behind them and she ran a hand through his well groomed hair before she sauntered to the bed and sat down, rubbing the comforter just beside her. Steve let out a quiet cough, fixing his tie as his cheeks became heated. He moved to sit beside her anyway.

"I've, uh, never done this before." He admitted, voice quiet and hands in his lap. She took them with her own, squeezing them gently as she looked over at him, blue eyes wide and understanding.

"If you don't want to—."

"Don't. Please, Tasha, please don't." He cut her off, face set hard. She nearly recoiled in her shock. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but everyone—everyone—tells me that. That if I'm not ready I don't have to. I want to. Please." He squeezed her hands and brought them up to his lips for a quick kiss. She smiled.

Well, he didn't have to tell her twice. She turned so she was on her knees beside him, tilting his head so that she had better access to his mouth. He let her deepen the kiss, her tongue slipping between her lips without much resistance. He was a much better kisser than she'd expected, not thinking that he'd had much time or chance to practice, but she was wrong. So very, very wrong. She laid him back slowly, her hands moving across the buttons and zippers of his suit and taking them apart with nimble fingers. He protested her taking off all of his clothes at once, hands stopping hers for a moment.

"You too," he whispered, voice hoarse. She gave a low whine, but allowed him to unzip the back of her dress and push it slowly from her figure, getting to her feet in order to let it pool at her feet. Steve gave a low moan as he noticed she was wearing garters to keep her hose up, and she swore she saw his eyes glaze over as he took a good, long look at the white lace bra she'd picked out for him. She let him look, blushing, before crawling back towards him and finishing what she'd started.

It wasn't too long until he was atop her, lips suctioned to her collarbone, her hands running through her hair as his hands moved slowly down her body, making a map of her skin. She directed him where she wanted him to go, moving his hand to her breasts so he could take his time feeling them and growing comfortable with their weight. He let out a low hiss of air in pleasure before he brought his lips down to her chest of his own volition. She gave a jolt of surprise as he fastened his lips around one of her nipples and rolled it around with his tongue.

"Oh God, Steve," she whimpered, pulling his hair just hard enough for him to groan, the vibration making her laugh as it tickled her skin.

"Mmm?"

"Don't stop. Please." She was shivering with anticipation now, and then he was tracing his fingers down her flat abdomen, bringing them to the apex of her thighs where she was waiting, already wet, for him. He gave a low groan as she whispered to him him what she liked, and if there was one thing Captain America did exquisitely, Natasha thought as she gasped, it was follow orders. His fingers slipped inside her with little hesitation, two of his fingers massaging the soft tissue just past her entrance while a thumb rubbed at her clit, sending tremors through her body that kept her spasming. She wasn't going to last much longer, and she whined to let him know. He took a deep breath as he pulled away from her other breath, having given it a sufficient amount of attention, and turned his gaze instead on her face. He seemed to be asking if she was ready, and with a grin she nodded and sat up to kiss him.

"Please," she whispered against his lips. That was all the encouragement that he needed, it seemed, and slowly, torturously, he aligned his hips with hers and pushed in until he filled her to the brim. She had to force herself to breathe as stars popped in front of her eyes. Oh. Damn. The super serum, it seemed, was good for much more than just a washboard pair of abs and excellent arms.

It took a few minutes for Steve to adjust to the sensation himself, breath coming in deep gasps, before he pulled just as slowly out, and set to a slow but powerful rhythm. Her hips bucked to meet his with every thrust, her eyes locked to his as she wrapped one arm around his neck to keep him close. His hands settled on either side of her head, and he seemed just as willing to keep eye contact as he moaned and groaned above her, her name slipping in every so often. He was great, but just a little slow, and after she'd let him grow comfortable she stopped only to flip them over.

His eyes were wide, amazed, but moved to fixate on her hips as they rocked and twitched while she rode him. Her hands fell to her breasts, playing and teasing them, before his took over greedily. She let him, bouncing up and down faster so that he really started panting. She moved one of his hands so that it kept rubbing her clit, and he got the idea after a few seconds of scrounging around for a fitting rhythm, forcing her to move even faster as she felt her orgasm inching closer and closer.

"That feel good?" Steve asked, voice hoarse.

"Steve. Please," she whimpered. Any further words of encouragement were choked from her as he bucked his hips up, hard, and she came screaming, tightening around him like a vice. That was all he seemed to need before he was coming, too, and she gave a low moan as be bucked his hips once, twice, and grew still beneath her. She all but collapsed atop him, rolling over and off of him with a whimper at the sudden feeling of loss.

That was entirely worth it, and now he was hers. She ran a hand over his cheek, drawing him close for a slow, luxurious kiss. "Thank you, Steve," she murmured against his lips. He'd given her so much more than he knew.

A/N: I don't own any of the Avengers, and the title comes from the song "Kill of the Night" by Gin Wigmore.