I only own the characters I created.

This story would like to focus on the relationship between Bucky and Brooke, but there will be romantic lines as well: OC/Sam, established Bucky/Steve and background Clintasha (because of OTP reasons).

It is set post CA:WS, Civil War never happened. It is the kind of AU when the Avengers all live in the Tower and fight crime together.

As for SHIELD, it was rebuilt and now operates mainly focused on the Avengers' activity in a much more restricted area than before. Fury is still in charge, of course.

This is the introduction, so let's meet Brooke :) Enjoy!

"Brooke Marlow, the newest official SHIELD member," Monna says as she lifts her glass and clinks it against Brooke's.

"It's not sure yet," Brooke corrects rolling her eyes. Well, it's almost sure. Brooke had a meeting with Nick Fury who liked her and with Tony Stark who loved her. She had a hand-to-hand combat training with a field agent, a male, who she made sweat and swear at least, and she did great on the general endurance tests too. There is only one interview remaining, with some of the Avengers and then she could get the job.

Brooke is still not sure if it was a good idea to apply for the SHIELD trainee program. They want to make a team of young recruits that would serve as backup and support for the Avengers. Brooke was drunk and the online form was too easy to fill out. Not her responsibility, really.

She still doesn't know why she showed up at the admission exam in the Avengers Tower, but she did. And it went great. So now she is supposed to celebrate in a fancy pub with Monna who had too many mojitos already. It's not that she doesn't like her current job as a receptionist and occasional personal trainer at the local gym. But if she can choose a little more excitement, she will.

Monna Hudnall is her best friend who works at Stark Industries. They met during Brooke's short time in the army. She learned endurance and some dirty tricks in a special classified program but the Serpents did not get the green light in the end and she was discharged along Monna who worked as a researcher on the same program. Now she works in Development and Brooke is fairly sure she is in love with Stark.

She sips on her screwdriver when Monna slams her elbow in her ribs. "God, it's the bloody Falcon," she whispers.

"Ouch," Brooke moans rubbing her side. She looks up and sees the famous Sam Wilson approach the bar. "We are literally three blocks away from the tower. It's not that surprising. Stop acting like a fangirl, you are working on your PhD, aren't you?"

"And? A girl can't research gamma radiation and appreciate flying superheroes at the same time?"

"Stop, you are staring at him."

"I am not."

"You are." Brooke groans seeing the man make his way towards them. "Mo, we have no idea who this guy is. Make him work for it."

"You're so cruel, Marlow," Monna hisses but she is on board. That's what she loves in Monna. She is always with her when she decides to play around with men and never comments on the fact that maybe this is partly why she has been single for ages.

It is not about her, Brooke figures. She has nothing against her own looks. She has a strong but flexible body, her breasts are perky, hips wide enough to be called "feminine" and Monna insists her ass looks mesmerising if she wears the right skirt, her wavy chestnut hair reaches past her shoulder blades, her brown eyes are shiny and, as she has been told, beautiful.

But she didn't have luck with dating so three years ago, at age 25 when she got back from the program, she simply gave up on it. Guys don't necessarily take that decision into account though.

"Hey, can you do me a favour?" She hears and when she turns, she sees Sam freaking Wilson in front of her wearing a cocky smirk.

"Maybe buy me a drink first?" She suggests.

Sam grins. "I'd love to. But the bartender pretends I don't exist. However he seems to notice you girls alright."

"My friend has had a tough week. We accidentally became regulars," Brooke responds earning an indignant hey! from Monna.

Sam still smiles. "Amazing. I'd really like to abuse that privilege. Can you order a whiskey for me? And whatever you drink?"

"I've had enough for today, but thanks," Brooke says and only asks for the whiskey which is on the bar three minutes later. Brooke wears a red deep v-neck sweater and only a bra underneath, she figures that helps her orders go smoothly.

"Amazing, thanks," Sam smirks downing the drink in one gulp. "I'm James by the way." He stretches his arm towards Brooke.

Monna coughs and Brooke elbows her in the ribcage, although gentler than she did her. "Dianne," she responds taking Sam's hand.

He hesitates before shaking it and murmuring a nice to meet you to her. Brooke knows why. He gave a fake name to test if she knows him. But she didn't call out the lie and now Sam is confused because he is Sam Wilson and someone doesn't recognise him. Oh the horror.

"This is my friend, Maggie," Brooke continues and fortunately Monna manages to keep a straight face while shaking his hand too.

"Are you sure I can't buy you a drink, Dianne?" Sam asks turning back to Brooke with a charming smile that makes Brooke want to roll her eyes.

"Look, James, I am fine, really. You can just go back to your buddies." Sam looks over the poorly lit tables and when she follows his gaze she sees other familiar faces: Black Widow, Hawkeye and War Machine sit around one like they are just ordinary people, friends who popped in for a drink. Brooke decides she has to go through with the plan, so she looks back at Sam with a carefully stretched, polite smile on her lips pretending she doesn't find the group more interesting than anyone else in the pub.

Sam seems slightly disappointed and Brooke wonders if he remembers the time he didn't have the Falcon to pick up girls with. "You're so cruel. I can't just go back to them without drinks. They will get offended."

"And you can't take them drinks because…"

"…the bartender doesn't acknowledge my existence. Exactly. So now I have to hang out with you ladies."

"So now you conveniently forgot you could just ask me to order to your friends as well." Brooke points out. "Smooth."

"Hey, I won't bother you more than absolutely needed," Sam says indignantly.

Brooke gives him a long, pointed look that makes him chuckle.

"Fair enough. So thanks for helping me out," he winks and turns to go back to his teammates.

"I can't believe you just passed up a chance to shag Sam Wilson!" Monna whispers when Sam sits back next to Clint Barton.

"We might have to work together, Mo. I don't think sex would be a good idea right away. And then, he's not like Captain America," she adds jokingly.

"Rumour has it Cap is gay," Monna replies helpfully.

"Just my luck," Brooke shrugs. She doesn't really care about Steve Rogers either. Sure she respects him and she relates to him because she was part of a shady governmental program as well, but she never exactly found herself daydreaming about him.

"Pity. Perhaps you're lucky enough that he's bi. Clearly he has the hots for your family," Monna giggles.

"How many mojitos did you have so far, sweetheart? Too many, clearly," Brooke replies dryly trying to get the glass out of Monna's grasp but she doesn't let her and downs it before ordering another one.

Monna refers to the hot gossip about the relationship between Steve Rogers, aka Captain America and his childhood friend, aka James Buchanan Barnes, aka Winter Soldier, aka brainwashed master assassin, aka a valued member of the Avengers.

What is not public about Bucky Barnes is his one night stand with Bonnie Seward before he enlisted and left to the army back in 1943. It had unplanned consequences: a rushed marriage to Ernest Marlow, a baby boy named James Marlow, a divorce after just five years, lots of stories about the time mommy and aunt Connie went on a date with The Steve Rogers and The Sergeant Barnes, and a baby girl who James became a father of in his forties, who got named Brooke Marlow.

That makes Brooke Bucky Barnes' granddaughter, a fact she doesn't really care about and something she is definitely not interested in exploiting. She wouldn't mind if it didn't come up during her traineeship with SHIELD at all.

"If that is true, I should compete with my own grandpa. Gross," she remarks.

"They should make a series of it. They could call it…" Monna thinks hard for some moments. "The Best Barnes," she announces proudly getting into a new giggling fit.

"Can we get a glass of water with lemon?" Brooke calls to the bartender and rolls her eyes at Monna. "I'm no Barnes. I'm Marlow."

"Your name might be, but in this world names come and go," Monna shrugs. Great. She got into the state Drunk Philosopher.

"Put the mojito down," Brooke commands.

Monna drinks when Brooke goes to the restroom, when she looks away to check her phone and generally when she thinks Brooke doesn't see her. Brooke isn't sure why it is so important to her friend to get wasted and decides to call the night off early.

She stands on the pavement with Monna clinging in her neck and tries to hail a cab. The drivers only slow down for a moment, then glance at Monna and speed up again. Great.

"You are so stupid, Hudnall," she scolds.

"Oh but you loooove meeee," Monna says in a drunk singsong voice drawing out the vowels.

"Sadly," Brooke agrees before swearing when another taxi leaves them.

"Now you know how it feels," she hears a voice. Looking up she sees Sam Wilson standing next to her.

She sighs and nods. "It seems they don't appreciate my boobs like the bartender did," she admits. She wears a light green spring coat so her cleavage is definitely not that effective.

"Can I help?"

Brooke raises her eyebrow. Is he seriously waiting for an invitation? "Please," she says before cooing to Monna. "You won't fall asleep, sweetheart, right?"

"Mhmm," Monna comments.

Sam pulls out his phone and makes a call. Brooke doesn't know or care how, but in three minutes a black Mercedes pulls up next to them.

"Come on," he says helping Monna in the car. Brooke sits in the middle and Sam presses next to her.

"I think we should take her to my place," Brooke says giving the address to the driver. "Thank you," she tells Sam.

"No problem."

They sit in silence for at least six minutes. That's when Monna lifts her head off Brooke's shoulder. "Brooke, I can't believe I'm in Sam Wilson's car!" She turns her hazy eyes on Sam. "You know Brooke here is getting hired by SHIELD? I am so proud of her!"

Brooke feels a blush creep on her neck and cheeks. "You're going to have a hangover tomorrow and I just want you to know you deserve every second of it," she mutters. She hears Sam chuckle.

"So you know who I am," he concludes.

"I didn't want you to take it for granted just because you're a celebrity."

"I am not a celebrity. I'm a superhero."

"Superheroes don't get on women's magazine covers half naked," Brooke points out.

"I keep that issue in my drawer along with the Tony Stark calendar," Monna comments. Brooke covers her face with her hands.

"It was for charity!" Sam explains.

"And we are grateful to you, Mr Falcon," Monna nods solemnly.

Brooke sighs and stretches her arm. "Brooke Marlow."

"Sam Wilson," he responds. "So, a SHIELD recruit?"

Brooke nods. "Possibly. In the B01 project. There's an interview tomorrow and so far I've met Fury and Stark and they seemed to approve of me."

Sam smiles. "Oh, the Plan B team?"

Brooke huffs. "You guys had better come up with something nicer than that."

"Why? I think it fits. I mean, Plan A would be the Avengers."

"If you set up a backup team counting on your failure, you are not Plan A. You are Plan H."

"Plan H?"

"As in, Plan Hopefully We Won't Embarrass Ourselves by Calling on the Trainees. Plan H."

Sam laughs and shakes his head. "What did you think of Stark?" He asks.

Brooke decides the change of topic means she is right about Plan B. "He was professional," she shrugs.

"So dreamy," Monna mumbles.

"Monna works at Stark Industries," she explains to Sam who nods.

"A crush on the boss?"

"I think she just appreciates Mr Stark's intelligence," Brooke responds.

"Who doesn't?" Sam smirks.

Fortunately Monna doesn't get the chance again to embarrass herself and Brooke as they reach Brooke's flat. She thanks the driver who opens the door and helps Monna out. He sits back in the driver's seat while Sam steps next to Monna to support her.

It saves Brooke from the dilemma on how she should say goodbye for now. Sam is coming up. Right.

"Hey, is it true that Captain America is gay?" Monna asks once they manage to get into the elevator.

Sorry, Brooke mouthes to Sam who looks over her. He smiles at Monna. "Captain America has no sexuality, darling. He only has a shield and an urge to kick ass."

"What about Steve Rogers, then?" Monna asks stubbornly.

"It would be nice of Steve to be available for guys too if you ask me, I hear he is pretty popular with gays," he responds. Brooke admits it is a very diplomatic answer.

"Fair enough," Monna giggles and thankfully drops the topic.

"Here," Brooke points at the couch when they enter the flat and goes to her bedroom returning with a blanket and a pillow.

Sam helps Monna onto the couch and even tucks her in. Brooke goes to the kitchen island and fills three glasses with water. One she hands to Monna. "You can sleep in a moment. Just drink a little."

Monna does and Brook sets the glass on the coffee table. She hands the other glass to Sam and grabs her own gulping it down with a relieved sigh. "Thank you," she finally says.

"No problem," Sam responds. He steps to her and places the empty glass on the bar. He stands closer than absolutely necessary, Brooke muses.

"How is it with the cars? You all have one of your own? Driver included?" Brooke asks.

"They are from Tony. His friends - and colleagues, I guess -, have that number. Some drivers are always available. No question asked."

"How nice of Tony."

"He's generous," Sam nods. He looks around. The flat is not exactly tidy right now which makes Brooke self-conscious. "So I guess then I…" he drawls.

"Yeah," Brooke nods. "Thanks again."

"No problem," Sam repeats absentmindedly. He looks back at her. "Then I better…"

"Yes. I'll see you tomorrow? At the interview?"

He shakes his head. "At your training at one point, probably."

"Probably," Brooke repeats.

"Yeah."

Brooke knows they are being ridiculous. If he wanted to leave he would have left already. If she wanted him to, she would have told him already. But they still just tiptoe around the main event.

"I don't think it would be wise," Brooke says suddenly. "We might work together in the future and we should remain professional."

"Yes," Sam nods. "So this is the part where I leave, right?"

"I suppose."

"But you don't want me to, right?"

Brooke groans winding her arms around his neck. "Fuck it," she exclaims pressing her lips against his.

They stumble into the bedroom chuckling and kissing and panting.

"I just want you to know it has nothing to do with the Falcon," Brooke whispers while tugging on her jeans.

"I just want you to know it has a lot to do with your… personality," Sam replies kissing her again.

Right. She will have a one night stand with future colleague and playboy superhero, the Falcon. Right.