The room was in shadows as he wandered though. The time on his watch told him he was a half hour late but he wasn't sure Monica would be overly pressed about it on this occasion.

She was standing near the window. With her back hunched over the crib sitting below it she didn't even bother to turn around when she heard his footsteps approaching her "You'll ensure she's properly looked after won't you?" she asked instead as she reached down to gently trace a finger along the side of the sleeping baby's face.

There were tear tracks down her face she was trying desperately to hide and a small smile came to her lips when the child stirred in her sleep.

He was positive this was the most emotion he had seen from her since they'd first met.

"Of course Monica," he replied from beside her, his tone more official than reassuring. Leaning over he surveyed the sleeping baby, his brain calculating how useful she could be when she was older with the talented parents she had.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she brushed her daughter's hair from her face "And you'll keep her out of all this?" she asked as she turned away. Her eyes were stinging with the threat of more tears and she didn't have time for emotion "I'm trusting you with this Gideon."

"She'll live a normal life. We'll make sure of it."


When had it gotten so dark?

The words on the screen were blurring together as her eyes stung from squinting and her back ached from leaning over her desk. Throwing a glance toward the sack of mail waiting to be opened and processed she was just about ready to pull her hair out. All she wanted to drop her head onto her desk and fall asleep.

Rubbing at her eyes beneath her glasses she ended up settling for tugging her long blonde hair, which had been irritatingly tickling the back of her neck, into a tight ponytail as she allowed a yawn to tug at her lips. Shifting the piles of unopened envelopes cluttering her desk over to one side she finally allowed herself to lean forward and rest her head on her, uncomfortable, mouse mat.

She heard the click of her office door opening but, knowing exactly who it would be, remained in her fed up and exhausted position. As a musical chuckle echoed through her office, informing her her assumption had been right, she raised her arm in welcome "Don't you be staying too late Rhodes," Angela Watson, her favourite colleague (and person in general) by far, warned knowing the younger girl would still be sat at her desk long after the last visitor left the museum, no matter what she said.

Harper could just see the stern expression on her face without even glancing up and she smiled sleepily as she turned to look across to Angie "How many left?" she asked, a hint of a European accent lining her words, wincing as the frame of her glasses dug into the side of her face.

"Just a few," Angie reassured her. There was nothing worse to the researchers than venturing out from the comfort of their offices only to be caught up answering visitors questions. With the long days they had found themselves constantly suffering through recently all they wanted to do was leave their work behind and head home to peace and quiet "I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked as she played with her car keys; whereas Harper had the luxury of being able to hide away in her office until the last member of the public headed home Angie had to battle through whatever crowd was left as soon as the clock ticked over to five pm. There were two preteens waiting for their dinner back home.

"You certainly will," Harper nodded as she sat up. Swiping her glasses from her face she rubbed at her eyes properly before reaching for her laptop.

"And remember-"

"-don't stay too late," she repeated the warning she heard at the end of each and every working day with a cheeky grin on her face "I got it Ange."

Rolling her eyes the elder of the two nodded and sent one last smile before she left, pulling the office door shut.

Harper sighed as she allowed her eyes to rest, once again, on the pile of envelopes growing ever higher the longer she left it off. She wanted to be burying herself in the historical facts surrounding her next idea for the exhibit while choosing outfits for mannequins and figuring out how to decorate the space she could be allocated.

But no.

After recent events, and the mass city wide clean-up which had followed, half of the citizens of Washington wanted rid of the Captain America exhibit Harper had worked hard to put together as her first solo project while the other half, along with most of the museum staff, were fighting for it to be made into a more permanent fixture. It was the reason behind all the mail and paperwork cluttering her desk, all the differing opinions leaving Harper right where she didn't want to be; stuck in the middle.

Of course she would love for her first project to be made into a permanent exhibit; she had dedicated the best part of six months to Steve Rogers and his men and their story had become one of her favourites. It was a dream for anyone putting exhibits together that it would be widely liked enough to be made permanent and she knew, by the looks they sent her when she ventured down to the canteen, that her colleagues were expecting her to fight for her work fiercely.

But she was tired.

It was hard to fight for something when she was politely replying to hate mail on a daily basis.

She sighed as she glanced across the room to her favourite of the Captain America posters she had unearthed during her research. It was a drawing from some time in the forties of Steve Rogers, the super soldier, stood behind his famous shield and beside his biggest ally and greatest friend; James 'Bucky' Buchanan Barnes. With a frown on her face she chewed on her bottom lip with unease.

Just like half of the city of Washington even she, Harper Rhodes Captain America expert, was losing faith in Steve Rogers.

If he was still there helping and explaining instead of disappearing after a city wide attack, the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and many unexplainable deaths she wouldn't be in the predicament she hated so much. The public wanted a role model and a superhero not someone who was willing to just abandon them to hunt for the untraceable ghost assassin known as The Winter Soldier. They wanted someone there not someone extracting revenge on their behalf.

Ignoring the envelopes she turned to her paperwork, piled even higher than the time someone had broken in and stolen Captain America's uniform, and began to sort through it until her eyes burned. Shoving the odd bit of mail into her bottom draw as she went along she only found herself pausing on one large brown envelope, the stamp in the corner oddly familiar. After a shake of her head, putting her hallucinations down to her lack of sleep, she shoved the envelope in with the rest of the mail and stretched her arms above her head. Though she had promised Ange she wouldn't stay too long she found herself, yet again, reassuring security she would lock up after herself as the clock ticked over to ten pm.

Determined to leave before the night guard started his shift at eleven she pushed herself to get up onto her feet. Stretching her arms above her head, wincing at the twinge leaving a trail of pain across her back due to being bent over her desk, she tugged her leather jacket on. Picking her messenger bag up from the floor, pausing to shove her laptop and a few files into it, she slung the strap over her shoulder.

Sending her Captain America poster one last glance, almost pleading to him to come back, she switched off her light and headed out into the exhibit.

"Oh!" she heard the exclaim leave her mouth before her brain caught up to what was happening. There was a man sat, cross legged, in front of one of the stands packed with information on Steve Rogers before the war. He wore a dark cap pulled low over his eyes, a matching hoodie wrapped around a muscular frame and a stony, serious expression.

"I, um…" she coughed as she shifted the strap of her bag into a more comfortable position on her shoulder. It hadn't seemed as though he had noticed her arrival "Y-you're not supposed to still be in here," she continued as she took a small step towards him. Her voice was high pitched and shaking as she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of his face.

She frowned as she took another step, her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her bag nervously. Why hadn't security found him on their final rounds? "E-excuse me?" she said a little louder "It's way past closing time."

She jumped as his stood without so much of a glance toward her. His movements were slow and precise as his gloved fingers curled into fists. His boots were heavy on the floor as he turned, strands of hair fell from beneath his cap as he looked to her from under the peak. She stumbled backwards as he approached her, his strides long and fast.

"I…I mean it's no problem," she stuttered as she closed her eyes tightly once her back made contact with the hard surface of the door to her office. He was inches away from her, his breathing heavy as his eyes darted around the room. Fear fluttered at her heart as she slowly reopened her eyes "You're…you're him aren't you?" she whispered glancing down to where the sleeve covering his left arm had rolled up during his movement. Silver metal shined brightly in comparison to his dark attire.

He kept his stony expression trained on her but didn't speak. As his breathing steadied hers became more erratic, her heart jumping around her ribcage.

"I…" she paused when she noticed his shoulders drop, tilting her head in confusion as his head bowed "Are you…?"

Her jaw dropped as he glanced back up to look at her, his right hand shifting the cap on his head as he regarded her with wide eyes "Oh my God," he breathed as he took a step away from her. Reached up to mess with his cap some more he allowed more of his long, tangled brunette hair to fall around his neck "Did…did I hurt you?" be questioned urgently as he backed away from her.

But she was looking up to him in amazement "No way," she breathed as her eyes glanced from him to the displays still switched on and running "Y-you-" she knew it. Captain America didn't just disappear; he was on the hunt for The Winter Soldier and, now she was looking directly at him, she knew exactly why "Sergeant Barnes."

He was shaking his head as he backed further away from her "I'm sorry ma'am," he paused to glance to the nametag pinned to her blazer "Miss Rhodes. It's late-" he looked down to his left wrist, where a watch should lay, wincing when he saw the cold metal arm instead "-I shouldn't be here."

She took a few quick steps after him as he turned his back on her "Why were you reading about yourself?" she called, relief flooding through her when he stopped "I wrote this display, all of this is my work. If you have any questions…?"

He turned back, staring to her with a look of amazement on his face "You wrote this?" he asked quietly as he glanced around the displays.

"Almost every word," she shrugged in an attempt to downplay the pride which swelled her heart every time she thought of her exhibit. The wide grin stretching across her face let her down.

"And you can…" he was frowning as his eyes darted around the room "You can give me information on him? On this James guy?" he asked gesturing toward the large Bucky Barnes display in the middle of the room.

She took another step closer to him and he backed away "You don't remember," it was more of a statement than a question "What happened?"

He was shaking his head, a hand resting on the back of his neck as he reached the entrance to the exhibit "You need to stay away," he warned, his metal arm outstretched to keep her at a distance "I never know when he's going to take over."

"I can help you I promise," she was practically pleading with him "I can give you any information you need. It's…it's kind of surreal to have you here actually," she said shyly, a blush to her cheekbones as she continued on when he sent her a confused look "I've done so much research on you, it's almost like, like having one of my heroes stood in front of me."

His face fell at her words, his metallic hand balling into a tight fist as his other hand gripped at his head "No," he breathed turning his back on her as a more forceful "No!" left his lips.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she reached out to him calling "Wait!"

But she was too late. He was already gone.


"Well you look beat."

Harper smiled as she glanced up to the doorway. Smiling back to her Ange was stood leaning against the door frame with an expectant and stern look on her face "I'm fine," Harper allowed her usual lie to slip past her lips though the yawn which accompanied it let her down.

Following her meeting with The Winter Soldier a few nights previous she had spent each evening continuing to stay late and waiting for him to reappear. She had poured over every scrap of information she had on him while searching through whatever additional facts Google and the news reports had to offer.

She wanted to be prepared for whatever questions he could throw her way and being prepared didn't seem to allow time for sleep.

"Are you wearing makeup?" Ange asked, a teasing tone to her voice, as she stepped into Harper's office and shut the door behind her. The younger of the two, never seeing much point in getting dolled up just to sit in her office all day, barely made an effort in her appearance when it came to coming into work.

"No," Harper scowled a she pushed her glasses further up her nose. Ignoring the disbelieving raised eyebrows being sent her way as Ange took the seat opposite her.

Before Ange was able to reply with whatever smart ass comment was on the tip of her tongue the door to Harper's office was opened once again. Smiling apologetically the mailman dumped another bag of mail beside her desk.

"Fantastic," Harper huffed as she folded her arms tightly over her chest and kicked the bag softly "Just what I need. More hate."

Ange pulled a sympathetic face "I bet your bottom draw is practically overflowing with mail."

Harper narrowed her eyes as her mind suddenly began to tick over. She had been searching through unhelpful Google documents (thanks to agents combing the internet to remove any top secret information leaked to the world once S.H.I.E.L.D had fallen) late into the night when she had been overlooking something with more potential than all of her research put together "Bottom draw," she breathed, her eyebrows furrowing together "Mail! Angela Watson you're a genius."

"Well I won't argue with you there but the genius is confused," Angie replied sending the erratic looking girl a confused look as she dived from her chair to kneel beside her bottom draw "I'm lost H," she sighed when she didn't get an answer, sweeping her auburn hair from her face and craning her neck to observe her friend's craziness "What's going on?"

"Aha!" Harper exclaimed as she jumped to her feet clutching a large brown envelope in her hands "I got this earlier on in the week and just pushed it aside thinking it was more pestering y'know?" she spoke quickly, not caring about how lost Ange (who, of course, had no idea about her visitor) seemed to be, huffing in annoyance when all her friend managed was a shake of her head "Look!"

Her finger was pointing to the stamp in the corner. Small, dark and shoved into the corner of the brown envelope it was easy to see why she had previously overlooked and shoved it to one side, no matter how familiar the stamp was to her "Can you believe this?" she asked excitedly "Come on Angie!"

The older of the two shrugged "I guess I'm just not seeing what you are hun," she said apologetically "A spider?"

Harper was practically beaming "That is not just any spider Ange," she said keeping her finger on the icon and tapping it a couple of times as she spoke "It's a black widow."