She smiled easily, and lifted her arms to place them around his neck, her fingertips brushing against his short hair at the nape of of his neck. Back home, every few years she and Steve would talk about getting married, but something always inevitably stopped them. They'd break up, Rogers would turn out to be a Skrull, things would get complicated, and they'd all decide they had to put the life they wanted on hold until one ideal day that never came; that the life they were living was just one they had to get through to be happy. Sharon didn't believe that anymore.
And she also knew that things were different here, and this man was not the one she'd left behind. But admitting that to herself didn't feel the same way that it used to. Before, the idea that this Steve wasn't hers was frustrating, difficult to swallow or understand, but now there was something refreshing about it. Because he was different, he was his own person, but just as earnest and noble a man as anyone wearing the moniker Captain America needed to be.
Maybe she just wanted to kill him, maybe she knew that no one was going to pay attention to elevator footage, or analyze their every encounter. Maybe she knew that they'd already started to lose themselves in this game that they were playing, pretending they weren't attracted or involved with each other while they slept over at each others rooms, went to dinners and talked about they things they wouldn't tell other people. Maybe they both just liked flirting with disaster.
Sharon arched her body into his, her eyes searching his face. "Oh, I don't know, Steve. Maybe I want you to impress me with how great a spy you can be."