She could feel the uneasiness in her bones, she was being watched. Not paranoia. Years of being observed she could literally feel the eyes on someone watching longer than a few moments.

If they were an immediate threat, she would be dead.

No, they wanted something from her.

Her resolve quickly crumbled the moment she was in false privacy of her apartment. She knew they could be listening, but at least her humiliation could be suffered in the confines of her pseudo home.

He watched her lament for days; when she believed she was in the closed confines of her unequipped loft. She muttered in soft tones while trying to blink away fat tears. A part of him wanted to reach out and wipe them away for her.

It made him angry. WHY? Why did he want to comfort her? What was she to him? The flutter images confused him. Soft skin. Monitors. Remarks from other HYDRA personnel.

The despondent look in her eyes, the satisfied release in her body. Flushed cheeks and wet tears.

Did she know what was to come? Why does he remember the flesh beneath her clothes?

By the fifth day she began to devise a plan. If they wouldn't stop their surveillance, then she was going to smoke them out. She thought she was free of HYDRA. With Baron von Strucker dead she had believed she had been safe. He was one of the last HYDRA cells to know of her location and involvement. Today, she stepped onto the busy pavement with purpose. She had a surprise for them, she patted her pocket.

He noticed the slight movement, it had to be a blade he surmised. She was aware of his presence.

She smiled at the host, removing her large hat with such delicacy. Her hair was coifed to one side, giving him access to her slim neck. It would be easy enough to slit if she decided to struggle. He shook his head, the soldier's thoughts were filtering through. He was man, not a soldier. He was not on a mission, he was not sent here to kill her.

Her steps were careful, but directed, she had directed the waiter to seat near the back, towards the corner of the restaurant. Perhaps to keep view of her surroundings- but, she sat opposite where he thought.

As time lingered on he admired what he observed of her appearance. Her jewelry was singular, very tasteful. Small gold pendants from her ears and a simple gold chain. Her eyes rimmed with coal, her lips painted puce. She reminded him of a girl from the 40's. Her beauty was timeless.

It was attracting various men, none of which, was who she was waiting on. Something deep within simmered with irritation, a beautiful woman should never be made to wait. And so shouldn't he, watching her wait made his stomach rumble with hunger. It had been days since he had ate anything other than meager protein bars.

The crisp crunch of romaine lettuce, the succulent taste of the marinated meat on her plate. A cooked meal sounded like a melody for his disciplined stomach. By the time she had cut into her main entrée, his agitation grew exponentially. Who was she meeting? Why is the other seat still EMPTY?

The soldier began assessing the situation.

The restaurant had 3 exits. Minimal security cameras, focused on manager office and delivery door in the back.

The waiters and host were little threat, none showed to have training or hidden tactile strength.

She sat alone. She felt secure in the crowd she was in.

No, he reasoned.

She left the open corner for her mysterious companion. A show of submission in order for the companion to have a relatively well view of the entire room.

An enticing offer to approach.

But who was she waiting for?

After taking 45 minutes to painstakingly eat her meal at a snail's pace, the chair across from her finally scrapped across the floor.

She lifted her gaze only to meet unabashed horror. Her fork clinked against her plate, of all the people to approach her… she couldn't, she didn't. Her lungs deflated as her chest clenched in fear.

The Winter Soldier