Hotel: meet n' greet
[Steve looked down at himself, a little bashful, smiling a little more as he shook the man's hand.] Not battle, sir. Just making an entrance. Didn't want you confusing me with someone else. It's been known to happen.
[The man speaks lightly, good-naturedly, but he sizes the stranger up, noting the weak smile and the well-hidden nervousness that showed in the flit of eyes from here to there. The accent he could place, because thankfully that much hadn't changed in his lost years.]
Boston, huh? So I suppose you're a Red Sox fan. [Whatever Natasha was doing, or anyone else, Steve focused his attention on the man with no name. He tried to puzzle out what it was the other side hoped to get out of this. It wasn't a face to a name, since they had that already. Maybe it was agreement to be agreeable. Captain America nodded.] Thanks for coming, too. I know this is [...] a stretch, a leap of faith on your part, and I appreciate that.