AN: So this is my first real attempt at a Captain America story. It is set a couple of years after the end of the Winter Soldier. I might make this into a real story, might make it a series of one-shots. Tell me which you prefer, please.

Disclaimer: I do not own Captain America, Bucky Barnes, or anything of the like. I only have my OC.

A man moved slowly down a sidewalk, enjoying the cool summer night air. He was wearing an old-fashioned leather jacket, plain khaki pants, and a brown t-shirt. He had just finished a nice evening with his best friend. The two had gone to one of their old haunts, reliving old times and laughing like the children they had been the last time they had gone to the place. Due to his happy mood, the man was unaware that he was being watched. On the rooftop above him, slowly watching his every movement, was an assassin. She had been told the name of the man and where to find him. She had not been told his crime or why Hydra wanted him dead. It didn't matter anyway. She was told to kill him, so she would. The rest was superfluous. Though she would never admit it to anyone else, she enjoyed what she did. The anticipation of watching the target, the rush as the target realised they were done for, and the satisfaction of taking the target's life and carrying out orders. That was what's important to her. Just the orders, taking down one target after another.

She was a perfect soldier.

Now, the man rounded a corner into an alley, taking a shortcut to his flat. He took this route often, so he wasn't paying much attention to what was around him. Perfect time for the assassin to strike. Leaping from the rooftop, she landed almost noiselessly on the ground. The jarring landing was lost in her adrenaline rush. She slowly took out a jagged knife. She prefered killing up close and personal, so that the target would know she was the one who took their life. Sneaking up behind the man, she was about to press the knife to his neck, when he turned around. The assassin froze. She expected the man to scream or run away. She wasn't exactly a nice image. Her hair, dyed black, was cut roughly, hanging in matted chunks around her face, which was covered in various scars from Before. Her clothes were skin-tight, black, and always had someone else's blood on it. Her large belt had all sorts of nasty devices on it, mainly torture weapons, and her boots, originally black, were almost falling apart with the number on notches in them, each representing a kill. Despite this, when the man saw her, he just laughed. If she allowed herself to feel anything, the assassin would have been perturbed.

"So this is what Hydra has fallen to? Using children to carry out their dirty work? I don't feel like beating up a child, so run along." With that, the man simply turned around and walked away. Pushing aside any feelings of indignation, the assassin lunged forward, her knife positioned to cut into the man's lungs. Sensing her attack, the man turned around and, in a whip-snap movement, caught her knife between his palms. Twisting her wrist, the man sent the knife flying across the alley floor. "I said I didn't want to beat you up," the man said, shrugging off his jacket. "I didn't say I wouldn't."

Rushing at her, the man swung a well-aimed punch at the girl's head. It would have knocked her out cold, but the assassin ducked under his arm and kicked his back, making the man stumble a couple feet. The assassin smiled, a cold, humorless expression. Even more than killing with her knives, she enjoyed using her hands. Using the alley to her advantage, the girl ran up a wall, twisted in midair, and kicked the man's head. Now he was angry. "Fine, if you want to play it that way."

All emotion drained from his eyes as the man began attacking with a soldier's precession. Now the assassin was on the defensive. She barely parried his attacks, unable to launch a counter-attack. He was strong, and she wasn't used to her targets fighting back. Her arrogance was her undoing, and she was losing. They fought and fought, never showing any signs of stopping or backing down. Each attack the man made forced the assassin to take a step back, drawing closer to where her knife had fallen. The man noticed this. He stopped his attack and quickly grabbed the knife the girl had lunged for. At the same time, the girl took a small knife from her boot. They each pressed their knives to each other's neck, at a stand-off. One move of either's wrist, and someone would die. The assassin would not have hesitated, but she had seen how fast this man moved, and she wasn't ready to die yet.

Using a built-in button on the inside of her boot, the assassin released a cloud of pepper spray from a spot in her belt. The man withdrew immediately, coughing. Not taking any chances, the assassin hopped up a ladder on the alley wall and climbed to the top. She turned over her shoulder and, speaking deliberately, said "Another time, then" before disappearing.

As the cloud dissipated, another man raced into the alley. Seeing his friend not moving, a knife in his hand, surrounded by evidence of a fight, the man asked "Bucky, what happened?" Bucky looked at the knife. The blood-red Hydra symbol stared back at him.

"Hydra wants me dead, Steve."

AN: Sooo, what did you think? Any and all reviews would be welcome. If I am notified that you like, I will ccontinue the story.