Boarding the quinjet after retaking the Lemurian Star, Steve wasn't sure if he was angrier at Natasha or Fury. He was leaning toward Fury. It was hard to stay mad at Natasha for following orders, especially while she sat beside him not saying a word but staring at the floor. By the time the quiet and uncomfortable flight landed in DC, he had settled on Fury as the target of his…well, fury. Still, Natasha slinked away the moment the ramp came down while he was distracted signing some kind of documentation for the mission. She was nowhere to be seen when he finally stepped out of the jet.

He was greeted instead by her three rookies, just arrived from the mission in India. Clark, Howard and Jacobson looked pretty ragged, so he took a moment to chat with them. "Hey. Everything wrap up okay? Everybody all right?"

"We helped pack up the operations center and provided aid to injured civilians," Howard explained, standing at attention while the others slouched behind him. "It was a long flight home, though, sir."

"Well, make sure you clean up and get some rest. Unless you've got orders otherwise."

"Not as such, sir."

"We were just wondering if we should check in with Agent Romanoff before we head home," Clark clarified.

"I doubt she knows that you just got back, so I'd say don't worry about it."

"Can we quote you on that, Captain?" Jacobson asked. His confident grin faded when Steve didn't answer. "Um, I mean…you'll let Agent Romanoff know that you said it was okay for us to go?"

Steve pulled himself out of his own thoughts for a moment. "Tell you what – stay in the building for a while. Shower, change, grab a bite to eat. If you haven't heard otherwise in half an hour, you can go."

They thanked him before plodding off toward the locker rooms. He strode toward the elevator. He didn't feel guilty for calling Natasha out regarding her alternate mission, but he didn't feel particularly good about it either. He hadn't even made sure she hadn't been injured by Batroc's grenade before launching into a tirade about how she should have been rescuing hostages or apprehending pirates even as they'd chased Batroc to his escape boat. He realized now that he had been worried that something terrible had happened to her and that his worry had changed to anger the moment he'd realized it wasn't necessary. Knowing that didn't change how it had made him feel to think she was hurt or worse. He had been too focused on her, letting it distract him. Hell, he would have restrained and disarmed Batroc before the grenade had been thrown if he hadn't immediately run to Natasha when he'd seen her. That wasn't her fault; that was on him.

And she'd only been in that position because Fury had ordered it. Steve was ready to launch himself toward the Director's office when the elevator doors opened, but Natasha was standing there. She didn't meet his eye but said, "Hey. Fury is expecting you."

He caught her arm as she tried to walk by him. "Nat?" He had been ready to apologize, but he hadn't been prepared for her to look so sad. He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I, uh, I saw your rookies in the hangar. I told them they could go home. Is that okay?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"Are you…I'll see you at home?"

Rather than answering, she clasped her hands around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He didn't have time to hold her closer because she quickly pulled away. She was still looking down. "I won't apologize for doing my job."

"You don't have to. I'm sorry for…"

"No." Her eyes flashed with anger as she finally met his gaze. "We were both following our orders. You didn't do anything wrong, so you shouldn't apologize either."

"Okay." He didn't let her leave but wrapped her in his arms. He whispered into her ear, "I'm just glad you're okay. I was worried. I know I didn't need to be and not just because you were fine but because I know how good you are and that you can manage pretty much anything that comes at you and…"

"I told you not to apologize, Rogers." She pecked his lips with a wry grin. "I'll pick up a pizza or something on the way home."

"Okay." He waited until the elevator doors closed before making his way to Fury's office. He didn't knock. "Director, I…"

"Calm down, Captain." Fury leaned back in the chair behind his desk, twirling the flash drive Steve had seen Natasha using on the ship between his fingers. "I don't need an earful from you, too."

"Would it have really been so hard to mention that Natasha would be saving intel in addition to hostages?"

"I don't owe you any explanations. And I shouldn't have to explain compartmentalization to you." Steve clenched his jaw, but didn't argue. Fury didn't offer any further details, but continued, "For the record, Romanoff asked me not to put her in that position again if it was at all preventable. Don't think it means it won't happen or that she won't follow orders if it does."

"This isn't about Agent Romanoff. This is about being able to trust my team in the field. I can't do that if they have secret orders that supersede the ones I'm giving."

"You done?" Fury raised his eyebrow. "Because I've got a full schedule after you've vented your righteous anger."

"Sir…"

"Your thoughts on the matter have been noted, Captain. Is there anything else?"

Although he was annoyed by the clear dismissal, Steve managed a terse, "No, sir!" before turning on his heel and walking out of the office. His mood hadn't improved when the elevator stopped with about twenty floors to go before the locker room level and Sharon Carter got on. He gave her a curt not and kept his eyes forward.

She didn't take the hint. "Steve, I've been hoping to see you. Do you have a minute?"

"SHEILD business?"

"Not exactly." She wrung her hands and looked at him earnestly. "It's about Aunt Peggy."

All thoughts of rebuffing Sharon immediately disappeared. "Is she okay?"

"Well, she's been having more bad days than good lately and one of her doctors called me the other day. They're…they're not optimistic." She swiped at her eyes. "I just…I wanted to let you know. I know you just got in and that you're really good about going to visit, but…"

"I'll drop by first thing in the morning."

"Thanks. I know she'll…if she…she's usually better in the mornings."

"Yeah." He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as the elevator continued its descent, wondering if he should pat her shoulder or something. He settled on, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I just mean…you and Peggy are close, huh?"

"Oh. Yes. I…" She looked at him with shining eyes. "I owe you an apology, Steve. Several apologies. I'm actually really embarrassed about my behavior over the past few months. I thought when Director Fury assigned me to be your neighbor that it meant something more than it did."

"I think he meant for it to." Steve was feeling less inclined toward Fury's motives at the moment. "That it would be a good story to sell to the public."

"Maybe, but beyond that. I thought it was some kind of cosmic fate or stupid thing like that. I was so convinced that…look, I'm not making excuses, but I had just broken up with my college boyfriend that I thought I was going to marry a few months before I got the order to move in beside you and I think I latched onto you as a replacement for him because I felt like I already knew you from Aunt Peggy's stories and I really made a fool of myself and let it affect myself professionally and…" She paused and took a deep breath. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for being so unprofessional and I hope we can work together successfully in the future."

"I hope so, too."

Just as the elevator announced his floor, she added, "I still don't like Agent Romanoff, but Aunt Peggy seems to like her, so there must be something… Sorry. I should have quit while I was ahead."

"Yeah." He turned back after stepping into the hall. "Not that I'm too concerned what anyone else thinks of Natasha. I know how I feel and that's what matters."

Sharon nodded. "She's very lucky to have you."

"It goes both ways."

"See you around."

The doors closed before he could reply. He just wanted to shower and go home. He checked his phone after he stripped off his uniform in front of his locker and found an unread text message. 'Meat lvrs or Hawaiian?'

He smiled as he stood slowly tapped his thumbs against the screen. 'Love you.'

'Im not pizza,' arrived seconds later.

He had to grin. 'Surprise me.' He heard his phone vibrate again after he closed his locker, but headed toward the shower without checking it.

Natasha straddled Steve's hips in their bed. He groaned as she pressed down against him. "Nat, that feels amazing."

She continued kneading the firm muscles of his shoulders. It wasn't the first time she'd given him a massage, but he was certainly more appreciative than usual. They hadn't explicitly discussed the events on the Lemurian Star, though she was fairly certain he understood that she was making up for the worry she had caused him by disappearing, regardless of justification. He was certainly tense. She pressed her thumbs into a knot just to the left of his spine.

"Oh! Damn, that…keep doing that. Please."

She had to smile at his instinctive politeness. She worked the spot until it softened and yielded to her touch. She moved down his back, rubbing the stiffness out of every muscle. He was still moaning with satisfaction half an hour later when she had reduced him to the ridiculously well-developed equivalent of silly putty. She ran her hands up his arms, enjoying the definition as he shivered. "Nat, you…I want to thank you, but I don't want to move."

"You just thanked me." She dug into the angle between his shoulders and neck again, causing a reflexive contraction. "Besides, you've been grunting like well-fed boar for a while now."

"I mean…" He made an effort to roll over, but she still had him pinned beneath her. "Not to bring Stark up, but he said women love it when you ask them to sit on your face. That means…you know…"

She didn't move off him, instead stretching down to lie on his back. Her lips brushed against his ear as she said, "I know. I'm happy where I am right now."

"Mmm."

"You can give me a wakeup call in the morning, hmm?"

"Don't want you to have to wait that long," he said through a huge yawn.

"Go to sleep," she replied. She maintained her position on top of him as he fell asleep and his breathing evened out. She was careful not to wake him as she slipped out of bed and pulled one of his overlarge t-shirts on. Moving to the kitchen, she put away the remnants of their Hawaiian pizza and collected the dirty plates and glasses. She had never been personally bothered by her actions during a mission – that was an absolute lie, but it helped her function – prior to today. She tried to compartmentalize, but she kept coming back to Steve's worry. She couldn't do her job if he was concerned about her; if was worried, he couldn't operate efficiently, which could then lead to…issues. She slammed the dishwasher closed as she tried not to think about what that could mean.

He was still sleeping peacefully when she came back to bed. She slipped out of his shirt and snuggled against his body under the covers. He was warm, so warm. Sleeping next to him – just sleeping – always felt so good, like a rest she hadn't earned but was still privileged to enjoy. She nuzzled his neck, trying not to think about the mission or the conversation he'd told her about with Sharon Carter or Project Insight or…anything else. She dozed off with his scent and closeness.