025.

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Then it's a good thing you're a scientist, not a therapist.
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The kitchen was quiet except for the gentle scritch of a pencil against paper. Selene sat at the wooden table, her dark brows slightly furrowed in concentration as she traced over the letters on the page in front of her.

Across from her, Sam watched with an easygoing patience, arms folded, eyes scanning her progress.

"You're getting faster," he noted, leaning forward slightly to see her work. "When we started, it took you ten minutes to write a full sentence. Now look at you, knocking them out like a pro."

Selene's lips twitched—almost a smile.

Sam grinned and gestured to the sentence she had just finished writing. "Alright, let's hear it."

Selene's throat tightened, but she had done this before. She could do this. She tapped her pencil lightly against the page before inhaling.

"...The dog... runs fast."

Sam beamed. "Yes! That's what I'm talking about."

Selene ducked her head slightly, but there was a hint of pride in her eyes.

Sam tapped the page. "And look, your handwriting's getting better too. No more chicken scratch. We might even get you to write in cursive one day."

Selene gave him a look that very clearly said don't push it.

Sam chuckled. "Alright, alright, one step at a time."

She exhaled, tapping her pencil against the table. "...Again."

Sam leaned back, arms crossed. "I dunno... I feel like you should take a victory lap first."

Selene blinked, confused.

Sam smirked. "That means take a break. You earned it."

She hesitated, then gave a slow nod.

Standing up from her seat, she walked a lap around the dining table then sat back down, ready for the next part of the session.

Sam laughed loudly, his shoulders shaking as he shook his head in disbelief.

"That's it? I assume you just took it." He grinned playfully.

Selene nodded. "Victory lap."

Sam studied her with a smile, noting how much easier this was becoming for her. When they first started, she barely spoke. Her responses had been clipped, barely more than a word or two. And reading? Writing? That had been like pulling teeth. But now?

She still wasn't talking in huge terms like Stark or Banner, and she still hesitated over longer words, but she was improving.

And more than that—

She was understanding humor.

A month ago, when he or Tony cracked a joke, it would go right over her head. But now? Now she caught it. Maybe not all the time, but enough.

And that was huge.

"Alright," Sam said, stretching. "I think it's time for your favorite part."

Selene narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Sam grinned. "Speech practice."

Selene groaned.

Sam laughed. "Come on, you're getting better. Soon you'll be throwing sarcasm back at Tony like a real champ."

Selene rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She adjusted in her seat, bracing herself for whatever exercise he was about to throw at her.

But before Sam could begin—

The door elevator doors opened to the floor.

They both turned to see Steve walking towards them, toward the kitchen.

He hesitated, blue eyes scanning the scene. His gaze softened slightly at the sight of Selene, but the moment she noticed him, she looked away.

Steve's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Sorry for interrupting," he said quietly.

Sam just nodded. "No worries. We're just getting some work done."

Selene kept her eyes on the table, gripping her pencil tightly.

Steve lingered for a second longer, then sighed softly and made his way to the kitchen. He moved with a quiet ease, but there was tension in his shoulders. He didn't like how she avoided him. Didn't like the growing space between them.

But he didn't push.

Instead, he focused on making sandwiches, pulling out the bread and carefully layering the ingredients.

Selene stole a glance, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

Sam caught the look and smirked. "You know, I gotta say—I think I liked it better when you were terrified of sarcasm."

Selene's gaze snapped back to him, confused.

Sam leaned on the table. "You remember? First week? You looked like a deer in the headlights every time Tony or I cracked a joke."

Selene frowned slightly. She did remember. And, unfortunately, it was true.

Sam grinned. "But now? You're picking up on stuff. Even giving me looks. Pretty soon, you're gonna be fluent in sarcasm."

Selene rolled her eyes again, but there was the tiniest hint of amusement in her expression.

Steve, still at the counter, paused mid-motion as he listened.

It was subtle, but he saw it—the way she was relaxing around Sam. The way she was improving. She was growing.

A small, warm feeling bloomed in his chest.

And then—

Selene's eyes flickered toward him again.

She had only looked for a second, but this time—this time—he saw the exact moment her expression changed.

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

The warmth in her eyes flickered out like a candle.

Steve followed her gaze, confused—until he realized.

She was staring at the second sandwich.

The one meant for Bucky.

Steve's stomach twisted.

Before he could say anything, Sam—who had also caught the change in mood—quickly steered the conversation in another direction.

"So," Sam said casually, tapping his pen against the table. "New assignment."

Selene exhaled, refocusing.

Sam leaned forward, his tone light. "You're doing great with speech and writing. But now? Time for a new challenge."

Selene narrowed her eyes slightly. "...No."

Sam chuckled. "You don't even know what it is yet."

Selene crossed her arms. "Bad."

Sam laughed outright. "You don't even know what it is, and you're already judging?"

She gave him a look.

Sam grinned. "Okay, okay, fine. It's about... getting more social."

Immediately Selene shot him a look.

Sam held his hands up in playful surrender as he began to explain his reasoning.

"Hold on- just try to understand. This will help your speech, to intake other's dialogue to familiarize yourself with."

Selene immediately frowned, already confused by some of his words.

Dialogue? Familiarize?

Sam seen the confusion. "Dialogue is the words we use when speaking, familiarize is becoming used to something."

She nodded, slowly storing the words to memory.

He smiled softly. "See? You're already learning."

She nodded.

"Nothing crazy. Just, you know... inserting yourself in others conversations. Maybe talking more with the others- practice your speech, ask questions. Just little things."

Selene hesitated.

She liked being alone.

But...

She also didn't.

Before she could respond, Steve turned from the counter.

"I could help with that."

Both Sam and Selene turned to him, surprised. They had both thought he'd have left by now- his sandwiches already made- but he stood there listening.

Steve shifted slightly, setting the sandwich plates down. "If you want," he said carefully, voice cautious. "I was going to make dinner tonight. I'd love for you to join me. We could... catch up."

Selene froze.

Sam glanced at her, gauging her reaction.

She looked uncomfortable.

Not outright panicked, but—

Hesitant.

Steve noticed immediately. He saw the way her shoulders tensed, the way her hands tightened around her pencil.

His heart sank.

"I mean—" He started to retract his offer, clearing his throat. "If you don't want to, that's—"

"...Yes."

Steve's breath caught.

He looked up.

Selene wasn't meeting his eyes, but she had said it.

Steve's chest tightened, relief washing over him.

"...Alright," he said softly.

Selene swallowed, nodding once.

Sam, hearing the whole exchange, hid a grin.

"Well, look at that," he muttered, pretending to be fascinated by his notes. "Making progress already."

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The communal living room was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of paper and the steady, rhythmic scribbling of a pen against paper.

Bruce sat at one end of the couch, hunched slightly over a notebook, adjusting his glasses as he studied a page filled with complex formulas and notes in his precise handwriting. His mind was deep in thought, analyzing the variables in his latest project—something about molecular stability in high-energy states.

At the other end of the couch, Natasha sat cross-legged, a mission file spread across her lap. Her sharp eyes scanned through pages of classified intelligence, occasionally flipping a page or making a mental note of something important. Despite her relaxed posture, there was a tension in her movements—always on alert, always ready.

It was a peaceful moment.

Until—

A shadow fell over them.

Bruce looked up first, curious.

Selene stood directly in front of them, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

Bruce blinked. "Uh... hey?"

Natasha acknowledged her presence with the barest flicker of her eyes before going right back to reading.

Selene said nothing.

Bruce glanced between the two women, his confusion growing. Natasha was clearly unbothered, and Selene... well, Selene was just standing there.

Seconds passed.

Bruce watched, puzzled, but Natasha continued reading, flipping a page.

Then—

A loud sigh.

Bruce's brow furrowed. He looked at Selene, then at Natasha, waiting for a response.

Natasha remained unfazed, eyes still on her file.

Another sigh.

Bruce opened his mouth, then hesitated. Was he missing something?

Selene sighed again, dramatically this time, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Bruce's lips parted in question, but before he could speak—

Another sigh.

Natasha finally looked up, arching a single brow. "You okay, or are you just trying to make sure we know you have lungs?"

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head. "I was wondering the same thing."

Selene tilted her chin up, satisfied now that she had their attention. "Dinner. With Steve."

Bruce immediately smiled. "That's great."

Natasha nodded, leaning back against the couch. "Good for you."

Selene shifted. "...What do we...talk about?"

Bruce paused, confused. "Uh... what do you normally talk about?"

Selene hesitated, fingers fidgeting slightly at her sides. Then, quietly, "Everything."

Natasha shrugged. "So what's the problem?"

Selene frowned. "Mad at him."

Bruce blinked. "Then... why are you having dinner with him?"

Selene let out another loud sigh, throwing her hands in the air. "Don't know."

That was when Natasha laughed—actually laughed. It was rare, but when it happened, it was a low, knowing sound. She closed the file, amusement flickering in her green eyes.

Bruce, on the other hand, still looked completely lost. "Okay, hold on—so you want to have dinner with Steve, but you're mad at him?"

Selene nodded.

Bruce frowned. "But you don't want to talk to him?"

Selene nodded again.

Bruce glanced at Natasha helplessly. "Is this... is this a normal thing?"

Natasha smirked. "It is if you're a woman."

Bruce muttered, "I don't understand."

Selene exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "What do...I say?"

Natasha leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Well, let's start with why you're mad at him."

Selene looked away. "With him. With... soldier."

Bruce's expression softened in understanding.

Natasha sighed. "Yeah, I figured. You don't like that Steve's been spending so much time with him, especially knowing you two have bad history."

Selene stayed quiet.

Bruce tilted his head. "You don't have to like the winter soldier, you know."

Natasha shot him a look. "Not helping."

Bruce held up his hands. "I'm just saying—she doesn't have to pretend to like him for Steve."

Selene chewed the inside of her cheek, mulling over Bruce's words.

Natasha tapped her fingers on the armrest. "Look. You and Steve used to talk about everything, right?"

Selene nodded.

"Then do that," Natasha said simply. "You don't have to pretend everything's okay. Talk to him. If you're mad at him, let him know. But don't sit there in silence like you're some tragic figure in a novel."

Selene frowned.

Bruce, still looking puzzled, rubbed the back of his neck. "So... the plan is to tell him she's mad at him? During dinner? A dinner he asked her to join him to? That she agreed to?"

Natasha gave him a flat look. "Yes, Bruce."

Bruce sighed. "Relationships are complicated."

Selene exhaled sharply—not quite a laugh, but close.

Natasha smirked. "Not just tell him you're mad. But if the conversation goes there, don't hold back. You're allowed to be upset."

Selene considered this, arms still crossed. "...And if no talk?"

Natasha shrugged. "Then enjoy the world's most awkward dinner."

Bruce huffed. "Sounds like a fantastic time."

Selene made a face, exasperated, before finally nodding.

Bruce still looked mildly distressed. "I don't get it."

Natasha grinned, standing. "Of course you don't."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "No, seriously, what's the logic? If she's mad at him, why have dinner? If she doesn't want to talk, why agree to go?"

Natasha patted his shoulder as she passed. "You're thinking with logic, Doc. That's your problem."

Bruce shook his head. "Unbelievable."

Selene, now feeling slightly more prepared, turned and walked out.

Bruce watched her go, still looking baffled. Then he sighed, slumping against the couch. "I don't understand."

Natasha smirked. "Then it's a good thing you're a scientist, not a therapist."

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