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It started with a mission briefing.
Which was already a bad sign.
Steve knew that look on Fury’s face.
The look that meant Fury had made a terrible decision and intended to force Steve to participate in it.
“No.”
Fury hadn’t even finished talking yet.
“You don’t know what the assignment is.”
“I know that look.”
Across the conference table, Natasha was suspiciously interested in hiding her smile behind a coffee mug.
Tony looked delighted.
“Please tell me this gets worse.”
“It gets worse,” Fury said.
Tony actually clapped.
Steve closed his eyes.
“Absolutely not.”
———————————————
Twenty-four hours later, Steve Rogers was sitting atop a lifeguard tower wearing red swim shorts, sunglasses, and absolutely no shirt.
The beach stretched out endlessly in front of him.
Hundreds of people.
Hundreds.
Children building sandcastles.
Families swimming.
Teenagers playing volleyball.
And approximately every single woman on the beach apparently deciding that the new lifeguard tower was the most interesting landmark in existence.
Steve wanted to die.
“This is ridiculous.”
His earpiece crackled.
“Looking good, Rogers.”
Tony.
Steve glared at absolutely nothing.
“Don’t.”
“You should see the drone footage.”
“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”
“You’d have to catch me first.”
———————————
The undercover operation itself was simple.
A weapons dealer was using the beachfront resort as a meeting location.
Steve’s job was observation.
Watch.
Listen.
Report.
Simple.
Unfortunately it required him to remain visible.
Very visible.
Painfully visible.
Because every twenty minutes someone seemed to require assistance.
A lost child.
Directions to the restroom.
A question about beach safety.
A request for a photograph.
Three requests for photographs.
Seven.
Twelve.
Natasha was laughing so hard through the comms she eventually had to mute herself.
⸻
By lunchtime Steve was questioning every life decision he’d ever made.
A group of college students had spent ten minutes pretending to need help with a beach umbrella.
A grandmother had informed him he was “a very handsome young man.”
A dog had stolen his whistle.
And now Natasha was arriving.
Steve spotted her instantly.
She was walking along the shoreline carrying an iced drink.
Casual.
Relaxed.
Like she wasn’t responsible for eighty percent of his current suffering.
She looked up.
Saw him.
And immediately grinned.
That grin was dangerous.
Steve already knew he wasn’t going to like whatever happened next.
Natasha stopped beside the lifeguard tower.
“Hey, lifeguard.”
Steve sighed.
“No.”
“I didn’t ask anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was actually going to say you look miserable.”
“I am miserable.”
She looked up at him.
“Really? Because from down here it looks like you’re having the time of your life.”
“I’m surrounded by people.”
“You fight aliens.”
“Aliens don’t ask for selfies.”
Natasha laughed.
The sound made something warm settle in Steve’s chest despite himself.
Then her gaze drifted upward.
Very slowly.
Very deliberately.
Steve knew exactly what she was doing.
“Romanoff.”
“What?”
“Don’t.”
“I’m literally just looking.”
“You know that’s worse.”
Her smile widened.
“Oh, definitely worse.”
Steve groaned.
Natasha looked entirely too pleased with herself.
And unfortunately for him, she wasn’t leaving.
Instead she settled into the sand beside the tower.
Comfortable.
Like she’d bought a ticket.
Steve pointed at her.
“You are enjoying this.”
“A lot.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
The annoying part was that she was right.
And judging by the smug look on her face, she knew it too.
Natasha had been sitting at the base of the tower for nearly twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes of commentary.
Twenty minutes of teasing.
Twenty minutes of Steve questioning whether jumping into the ocean and swimming to another continent would be easier than dealing with her.
“You know,” Natasha called up lazily, “for a lifeguard, you spend a surprising amount of time glaring.”
Steve looked down.
“You know, for a spy, you spend a surprising amount of time causing problems.”
“I contain multitudes.”
“You contain chaos.”
She grinned.
“Also true.”
Then Steve heard it.
A scream.
Not playful.
Not excited.
Terrified.
His head snapped toward the water instantly.
The easy smile vanished.
The teasing disappeared.
Every muscle in his body went rigid.
Years of training took over before anyone else on the beach even realized something was wrong.
A child.
Farther out than he should be.
The current had dragged him away from shore.
The boy’s arms were flailing wildly.
Panicking.
Going under.
Coming back up.
Going under again.
Steve was already moving.
One second he was on the tower.
The next he was launching over the side.
People nearby gasped.
Natasha was on her feet immediately.
Steve hit the sand running.
Then the water.
Cold waves crashed against him as he surged forward.
Fast.
Far faster than any normal person could have managed.
The distance disappeared beneath him.
The child vanished beneath the surface again.
Steve dove.
The underwater world went silent.
Blue.
Dark.
Distorted.
Then he saw him.
The boy was sinking.
Disoriented.
Terrified.
Steve reached him in seconds.
Wrapped an arm around him.
Kicked toward the surface.
The moment they broke through the water, the child coughed violently.
“It’s okay,” Steve said firmly.
“I’ve got you.”
The boy clung to him.
Shaking.
Crying.
Steve kept one arm locked around him and started swimming back toward shore.
Steady.
Controlled.
The panicked movements slowly eased.
The child realising he was safe.
By the time Steve reached the beach, a crowd had gathered.
Parents.
Tourists.
Hotel staff.
The boy’s mother came sprinting through the sand.
Tears streaming down her face.
“Oh my God,”
Steve carefully set the child down.
The boy immediately threw himself into his mother’s arms.
The woman hugged him so tightly Steve thought she might never let go.
“Thank you,” she said, voice breaking.
“Thank you so much.”
Steve gave her a small smile.
“He’s okay.”
Only then did Steve feel a hand touch his arm.
Natasha.
He turned.
The teasing expression she’d worn all morning was gone.
Her eyes were fixed on him.
Soft.
Proud.
Something else too.
Something that made Steve’s pulse stumble unexpectedly.
“You okay?” she asked quietly.
Steve blinked.
Of course she was checking on him.
Not the child.
Not the crowd.
Him.
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t hesitate.”
A strange look crossed her face.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
The sounds of the beach faded into the background.
Steve was suddenly very aware of how close she was standing.
Of the water running down his skin.
Of Natasha looking at him like that.
Then the rescued boy broke away from his mother.
Ran straight back over.
And wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist.
The entire beach collectively melted.
Steve froze.
Completely unprepared.
The boy looked up.
“You’re my hero.”
Steve’s heart nearly stopped.
Natasha made a suspicious choking sound beside him.
The child ran back to his family before Steve could even think of a response.
Natasha was smiling now.
Not teasing.
Not laughing.
Just smiling.
Warmly.
“You know,” she said softly, “that was kind of attractive.”
Steve stared at her.
“Kind of?”
She stepped closer.
“So attractive.”
Steve immediately wished the ocean would swallow him whole.
Unfortunately, Natasha noticed that too.
And judging by the way she was suddenly fighting a grin again, she intended to make sure he never heard the end of it.
Steve regretted saving the kid.
Not because of the kid.
The kid was fine.
The kid was safe.
Steve would dive into the ocean a thousand times over if it meant getting him back to shore.
No.
Steve regretted everything that happened afterward because apparently rescuing a drowning child while looking like Captain America had broken the beach.
Completely.
Utterly.
Broken it.
The moment he’d returned to the tower, people started looking.
More than before.
A lot more.
Word spread across the beach with terrifying speed.
The handsome lifeguard had just saved a kid.
Suddenly everyone needed to be near the lifeguard tower.
Steve climbed back into his chair and immediately heard Tony’s voice explode through the comms.
“ROGERS!”
Steve closed his eyes.
“What?”
“YOU ACTUALLY SAVED SOMEONE.”
“There was a drowning child.”
“I know!”
“Then why do you sound surprised?”
“Because this was supposed to be surveillance!”
Sam joined in.
“We sent you there to watch one guy.”
“I am watching him.”
“You disappeared into the ocean.”
“A kid was drowning.”
“We know!”
Natasha was standing below the tower again.
Still refusing to leave.
She looked entirely too amused.
Steve pointed down at her.
“You are not helping.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You’ve been staring at me.”
“I have.”
“Romanoff.”
“It’s hard not to.”
Steve groaned.
The comms erupted again.
Clint this time.
“Oh wow.”
Steve immediately knew that tone.
“No.”
“Oh wow.”
“Clint.”
“Cap.”
“Don’t.”
“There’s a line.”
Steve froze.
“A what?”
“A line.”
Natasha started laughing.
Steve looked down.
There was indeed a line.
An actual line.
People waiting near the tower.
One woman wanted a picture.
Another wanted directions.
One wanted to know if the water was safe.
Another wanted to know if he was single.
Steve nearly fell out of the tower.
The comms became completely useless.
Tony was crying with laughter.
Sam was encouraging people.
Bruce was trying, and failing, to sound sympathetic.
Even Fury spoke.
One sentence.
One.
“You are attracting attention.”
Steve stared at the ocean.
“You sent me here.”
Then Natasha climbed halfway up the tower ladder.
Not enough to reach him.
Just enough to lean against it.
Close.
Far too close.
Steve looked down.
“What are you doing?”
“Guarding the lifeguard.”
“I don’t need guarding.”
“You saved a child.”
“So?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“So now half the beach thinks you’re some kind of movie hero.”
Steve sighed.
The worst part?
She wasn’t wrong.
Every time he glanced around someone seemed to be watching him.
Parents smiled at him.
Kids waved.
People whispered.
A group of teenagers actually applauded when he looked in their direction.
Steve wanted to move to the moon.
Natasha tilted her head.
“You know, you’re blushing.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m sunburned.”
“Your super-soldier serum doesn’t let you sunburn.”
Steve opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Natasha’s grin became victorious.
Then Tony’s voice crackled through the comms again.
“Good news.”
Steve immediately distrusted that sentence.
“What.”
“The target just arrived.”
Finally.
An actual mission.
Something normal.
Something he could focus on.
“Where?”
“Beach bar. North side.”
Steve straightened immediately.
Professional mode returning.
Mission first.
Always.
Natasha noticed the change instantly.
The playful expression vanished.
Replaced by the deadly focus of a spy.
“Showtime?” she asked quietly.
Steve nodded.
“Showtime.”
For the first time all day, they both stopped laughing.
Because underneath the ridiculous cover story, the teasing, and the embarrassment,
They were still Avengers.
And the real job was about to begin.
The shift was immediate.
One second Natasha was teasing him about blushing.
The next she was Agent Romanoff.
Focused.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Steve had always found it impressive.
And, if he was being completely honest with himself, a little distracting.
“The target just sat down,” Tony reported through the comms.
Steve adjusted his sunglasses.
From the lifeguard tower, he had a perfect view of the beachfront bar.
A man in a pale shirt had taken a table in the corner.
Two other men joined him moments later.
All three matched the intelligence files.
The weapons deal was happening.
Finally.
An actual mission.
“Audio?” Natasha asked quietly.
“Working on it,” Bruce replied.
“Not close enough.”
Natasha glanced toward the bar.
Then toward Steve.
Then back toward the bar.
Steve immediately didn’t like that look.
“Natasha.”
“Hm?”
“No.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You have a face.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means whatever you’re planning is a bad idea.”
Tony immediately jumped in.
“Oh, I know that face.”
“Don’t encourage her.”
“You should absolutely encourage her.”
Natasha smiled.
The smile got worse.
“Well.”
Steve sighed.
Here it came.
“We need someone closer.”
“No.”
“The deal could happen any minute.”
“No.”
“We need eyes and ears.”
“No.”
A pause.
Then Natasha innocently asked,
“As the lifeguard, don’t you occasionally patrol the beach?”
Steve stared.
“Natasha.”
“Just asking.”
The comms exploded.
Sam was laughing.
Tony was laughing.
Clint sounded like he was choking.
Even Bruce was suspiciously quiet.
Which meant he was trying not to laugh.
Three minutes later Steve was walking along the beach.
Because apparently lifeguards did patrols.
And because Natasha had been right.
Which Steve hated.
The beach seemed determined to make his life difficult.
Every ten steps someone stopped him.
A child wanted a high-five.
A woman asked for a photo.
A man thanked him for saving the boy earlier.
Another person offered to buy him lunch.
“Mission update,” Steve muttered through clenched teeth.
“Everyone has lost their minds.”
Natasha’s laughter echoed in his ear.
Eventually he reached the beach bar.
The target was only twenty feet away.
Steve casually leaned against a nearby railing.
Listening.
Watching.
Pretending to survey the water.
The conversation was quiet.
Fragments.
Numbers.
Delivery dates.
Locations.
Enough to confirm everything SHIELD suspected.
Steve discreetly repeated details into the comms.
Behind the scenes, agents were already moving.
Then one of the dealers looked up.
Directly at him.
Steve’s stomach tightened.
The man frowned.
Recognition.
Dangerous recognition.
“You.”
The dealer stood.
Steve remained perfectly still.
“What about me?”
The man’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re Captain America.”
Oh.
Great.
Steve heard Tony immediately say,
“Well that’s not ideal.”
“No,” Steve replied through gritted teeth.
“I’m not.”
The dealer looked unconvinced.
Which was fair.
Because Steve Rogers pretending not to be Captain America was like a bear pretending not to be a bear.
Then before things could get worse,
“Excuse me!”
A voice cut across the tension.
Natasha.
Steve turned.
Natasha was suddenly beside him.
Wearing a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses.
Acting like a tourist.
One arm slipped around Steve’s waist.
Naturally.
Comfortably.
Like she’d done it a thousand times.
Steve nearly forgot how to breathe.
Natasha smiled brightly at the dealer.
“Oh, there you are.”
The dealer blinked.
“What?”
Natasha sighed dramatically.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for my boyfriend.”
Steve’s brain completely stopped functioning.
Her.
What.
Natasha pinched his side discreetly.
Hard.
The signal was immediate.
Play along.
Steve swallowed.
Right.
Mission.
Mission first.
“Sorry, honey,” he managed.
Natasha’s smile became almost unbearably smug.
“Honestly,” she continued, “he takes this lifeguard thing way too seriously.”
She caught his jaw lightly between her fingers, turning his face toward hers with infuriating ease.
And kissed him.
Not rushed.
Not messy.
Just controlled enough to sell it.
Just long enough that it stopped feeling like an act halfway through.
Steve froze for exactly half a second.
Then his hand came to her waist and steadied her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Around them, the beach noise kept going.
But it felt very far away.
When she finally pulled back, it was slow, like neither of them was in a hurry to prove the point was made.
Natasha’s expression didn’t change much.
Except for the smallest hint of satisfaction in her eyes.
The dealer immediately lost interest.
Because apparently nobody expected Captain America to stand there looking flustered while a beautiful woman casually called him her boyfriend.
The men returned to their conversation.
Suspicion gone.
Crisis averted.
Unfortunately.
Natasha’s arm was still around him.
“Romanoff,” Steve murmured.
“Hm?”
“They stopped looking.”
“Good.”
“You can let go now.”
She tilted her head.
“Can I?”
Steve immediately wished he were back in the ocean.
The drowning rescue had been easier than this.
Steve was going to kill her.
Not immediately.
The mission came first.
But eventually.
Definitely.
Possibly.
Maybe.
Natasha’s arm remained around his waist.
The dealers continued talking.
And Steve was discovering that maintaining his concentration while Natasha Romanoff leaned casually against him was significantly harder than fighting aliens.
“Steve.”
Tony’s voice crackled through the comms.
“What?”
“The heart rate monitor is fascinating.”
Steve froze.
Natasha’s shoulders immediately started shaking with silent laughter.
“Tony.”
“Your heart rate jumped.”
“Tony.”
“It jumped a lot.”
Steve wanted to throw the earpiece into the ocean.
“Oh my God,” Clint cut in.
“It’s not even the criminals making him nervous.”
“Clint.”
“It’s Romanoff.”
“Clint.”
“It is!”
Natasha finally lost the battle and snorted.
Steve refused to look at her.
Because if he looked at her he was going to see that smug expression.
And if he saw that smug expression,
Actually, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
—————————————
The mission was completed twenty minutes later.
SHIELD agents quietly moved in.
The dealers were arrested.
The weapons exchange was intercepted.
No civilians noticed a thing.
Exactly how a good operation should go.
“Good work, everyone,” Fury said.
Then after a pause,
“Rogers, remain in position until extraction.”
The line went dead.
Steve blinked.
“Extraction?”
Tony immediately sounded suspicious.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“Oh no.”
“Tony.”
Silence.
The worst possible sign.
Then Natasha smiled.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
Steve pointed at her.
“No.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t have to.”
Five minutes later a black SUV pulled into the resort parking area.
Steve was expecting SHIELD agents.
Maybe Hill.
Maybe Fury.
Maybe literally anyone sensible.
Instead the side door opened and half the Avengers piled out.
Steve stared.
“Absolutely not.”
Sam was laughing before he even reached the beach.
Clint had his phone out.
Wanda looked like she was trying very hard to behave.
Bruce looked apologetic.
Tony looked delighted.
“Tony.”
“Hey, Lifeguard.”
“Tony.”
“Nice tower.”
Steve climbed down immediately.
Too late.
The damage was already done.
“Is this the famous rescue hero?” Sam asked.
“Leave.”
“No.”
A little girl nearby suddenly gasped.
“It’s him!”
Steve closed his eyes.
Within seconds several families were approaching.
The rescued boy from earlier was among them.
He immediately pointed.
“That’s the guy!”
The crowd gathered.
Nothing huge.
Just enough.
Enough that Steve knew escape was impossible.
The boy’s mother smiled.
“We never got a proper chance to thank you.”
Steve softened instantly.
“It’s okay.”
“No,” she said, “you saved my son.”
The boy hugged Steve again.
Without hesitation.
Like Steve was the safest person in the world.
The entire team went suspiciously quiet.
Because for all their teasing,
they’d all seen it.
The way Steve immediately crouched down.
The way he smiled.
The patience.
The kindness.
The absolute gentleness.
Natasha watched from a few feet away.
And something in her expression changed.
Just slightly.
Because she’d seen Steve save people countless times.
Seen him fight.
Lead.
Protect.
Risk everything.
But this was different.
This wasn’t Captain America.
This was just Steve.
And somehow that was worse.
Or better.
Depending on how you looked at it.
Eventually the family left.
The crowd dispersed.
The beach returned to normal.
Steve straightened.
“Can we go now?”
“Sure,” Tony said.
“Great.”
“After one thing.”
Steve immediately regretted asking.
Tony pulled out his phone.
“Team photo.”
“No.”
“Team photo.”
“No.”
“Team photo with the lifeguard tower.”
Steve started walking toward the ocean.
“Where are you going?” Sam yelled.
“To drown.”
“You can’t drown.”
Steve kept walking.
Behind him, Natasha’s laugh rang across the beach.
Warm.
Bright.
Unfiltered.
And despite everything,
the teasing.
the embarrassment.
the fact that half the team now possessed photographs they would never let him forget,
Steve found himself smiling too.
Mostly because Natasha was still laughing.
And for some reason, hearing that had become one of his favourite sounds in the world.