The message on his phone is like ones he's gotten dozens of times from Sara during their all-too-frequent times apart. It simply gave him a date, a time, a GPS location, and a few short words. This time it's "See you there, Sergeant, and make sure to rest up and eat your Wheaties beforehand." The very idea that Sara was planning something she was hoping would exhaust even him was more intriguing and exciting than he could say.

Arriving right on time, he's not surprised to find that he's been directed to a hotel. It's one he's never stayed in himself, as far as he can remember. Neither the KGB or HYRDA sent him on very many missions to Buenos Aires, but he knows enough Spanish to get around.

The exact coordinates take him right to the reception desk, where a clerk grins and wordlessly hands him a small folder with a key card and a room number written on it. He takes the elevator up, opens the door to the room, and steps inside.

And nearly passes out.

"Sara...? Natasha...?"