Summary: Being a hero can take many forms, and even the best super spy agents need taking care of occasionally.

It wasn't his usual kind of mission. Quite honestly, Steve thought he might've preferred that to facing the barrage of questions from the pharmacist, but somebody had to do it. No, that wasn't fair. Nobody had strong-armed into this. In fact, Nat had tried to convince him he didn't need to bother, but how could he not?

When he got back to the apartment, he went straight to the bedroom, tapping lightly on the door and waiting for the weak reply before entering.

"You're being a gentleman? Even now?" she asked, managing a half a smile.

"What can I say?" Steve shrugged. "It's the way I was raised."

Stepping closer to the bed, he crouched down to her level and poured the contents of the drug store bag onto the blankets where she could see. It was quite the array of pills and potions, lozenges and balms, not to mention more tissues, because apparently, she was going for the record when it came to their usage.

"Wow," said Nat hoarsely. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

"Not the kind of gifts I'd usually present to a lady, but in the circumstances," he said with a kind smile. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been worse," Nat told him, even as she shivered uncontrollably and her face glowed as if she were being heated from within. "Of course, I've also been a lot better. At least I can't give it to you, super soldier."

Steve might have actually blushed at that comment. Nat loved that she still had the ability to make that happen, especially now, when every other skill seemed to elude her. Having the flu was so much worse than she thought.

"You're still pretty hot," said Steve, his hand at her forehead.

"You say the sweetest things," she replied, coughing horribly the very next moment. "Ugh, I've actually gone through torture sessions that felt better than this."

"It'll be over soon," Steve promised, feeling her pain. "The things I've seen you live through, there's no way the flu is taking down Natasha Romanov."

"Well, I've got the best nurse that money can't buy," she said, smiling even as her eyes started to close again. "I'll bet even Stark would be jealous."

Steve didn't answer that, just let his fingers run through her hair, pushing it back off her sticky forehead and hoping for her sake that sleep came to her. Nat needed rest, and he really needed her well again, and it wasn't just to fight the good fight, no matter how much she would probably think so.

Leaning forward, he planted a soft kiss on her hairline and then got up to leave the room. He had plans to raid the fridge and see what he could find to cook for dinner. Nat might not be able to eat much, but at least he could try. There wasn't much he wouldn't do for Natasha, and he was realizing that fact more and more with each passing day.

"Steve?" she called weakly when he reached the door. "Thanks," she told him, eyes still closed when he turned back to love.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Sleep tight."