Summary: Steve would say he's not surprised to see Natasha lying on the couch in his apartment, but that would be a lie and then he'd have to deal with that, so really he just asks what she's doing and goes to make breakfast. He did not expect to be cleaning up a three-day-old stab wound before lunch.

Sam was out shopping for more groceries after their run when Steve discovered Natasha on the couch. He had no clue how she'd gotten in past Mildred, their stubborn English landlady, or how she'd found them, but he didn't exactly mind her presence. It had been almost five months since he'd last seen her and his search for Bucky kept hitting dead ends, so having Natasha show up out of the blue was not unwelcome. That's not to say he expected to find her on his couch at nine in the morning, but he didn't mind having her for breakfast.

"How'd you get in?" he asked casually, heading to the kitchen to make them both omelets.

"Window," Natasha said just as casually. She didn't move from the couch even when Steve disappeared around the corner.

"I thought you were out in the world, rediscovering yourself," Steve commented, glancing back into the living room when he realised Natasha wasn't going to follow him.

"Got lonely," she smirked, "I now crave affection."

"Ah, okay," Steve replied before returning to his omelets. "Let me finish these omelets and I'll be right there."

That was a new thing with Natasha. A few months before the fallout with SHIELD, she would appear in his apartment and announce she needed his help which was promptly followed by a suffocating hug. Steve had been a little shocked at first, then he'd come to enjoy finding Natasha curled up on his couch, wearing one of his sweaters and demanding attention. Now that she was back and admitting she wanted it, Steve realised he'd missed it more than he thought he had.

Once Steve had four omelets finished, he put them in the oven warmer and made his way back into the living room where Natasha was still lying on the couch. She wasn't wearing any of his clothes, but that didn't keep him from making a mental note to check his dresser before she left for any missing items. If he didn't catch her before she disappeared again, he'd never get his things back.

Natasha shifted so Steve could sit next to her and immediately settled into his arms when he reached out to hug her. She buried her face in his chest and let him shift so they were both more comfortable. Once Steve was certain his arms or legs wouldn't go numb if he ended up holding Natasha longer than expected, he relaxed and gently combed his fingers through her hair.

"What have you been up to, Nat?" he asked quietly, glancing down at her. She was slumped against him but still tense, not relaxed like she usually was.

"Chasing down some old enemies," she murmured. She twisted in his arms, frowning for less than a second. Steve almost missed it, but she inhaled a little too sharply to be normal.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked. Natasha nodded, but when Steve shifted underneath her, she grimaced again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just a little sore," Natasha answered, trying to wave him off. Steve was having none of it, though, and insisted she tell him what was wrong. "I got in a fight a couple days ago, I'm just a little banged up."

"Bullshit, Nat," Steve said bluntly. She rolled her eyes as he forced them both to sit upright on the couch. He faced her and said, "Lift up your shirt."

"If you want me to get naked, you'll have to ask nicer than that," Natasha teased.

Steve gave her a look and she groaned as she pulled her shirt over her head. It was halfway off when Steve spotted the jagged cut running around her side. It was almost six inches long and looked like Natasha had tried to stitch it herself, but due to the awkward angle, the stitches weren't very good. Clearly she'd expected him to figure out something was wrong because she didn't have it covered even though he could see the adhesive that was still stuck to her skin from where she'd pressed a large bandaid over the gash.

"Natasha, god, what the hell?" Steve exclaimed, not looking up from the wound even as Natasha tossed her shirt aside. He could tell the movement hurt by the way she tensed and looked up to see her grimace fading away quickly.

"So maybe I got stabbed a little," Natasha grumbled.

Steve sighed and gently pulled her to her feet then ushered her into his and Sam's shared bathroom. They had a fully stocked first aid kit that Steve pulled from under the sink as Natasha jumped up and settled on the sink countertop.

"I swear to god, you're gonna get yourself killed," Steve muttered, carefully cutting the poorly done stitches along her side.

Once he was sure he had all the stitches out, he cleaned the cut before stitching it up again. He covered the stitches with two bandaids, making sure to cover the wound in gauze before pressing the bandaid to her side. After he finished, he sent Natasha to go put her shirt back on and shoved the first aid kit back under the sink.

Steve was less than surprised to find Natasha wearing one of his sweaters and sitting in the kitchen when he returned downstairs. He gave her a soft smile before pulling the omelets out of the warmer and putting them on two plates. He handed Natasha one omelet then sat down beside her to finish the others.

"Where's Sam?" Natasha asked after finishing her omelet.

"Out getting groceries for the week," Steve answered, shoveling another bite of food into his mouth. He finished chewing then said, "He should be back soon."

As if on cue, the door opened and Sam came stumbling in with an armload of groceries. He was in the middle of whining about not having super-soldier serum running through his own body when he spotted Natasha in the kitchen.

"Oh hey," he said, dropping the bags on top of the counter with a heavy thunk. "About time you showed up. You know, I figured when I gave you our address two weeks ago I would have seen you before now."

"She had to wait until she'd been stabbed to show up," Steve muttered, giving Natasha a playful look.

She rolled her eyes and stole a bite of Steve's omelet. At least now Steve knew how she'd found them. He could also tease her about being the laziest super spy because honestly, what kind of spy just texts someone for their address before breaking in? Maybe she was losing her touch (but if Natasha asks, Steve never said that).