Chapter 1: Two days in and we're like two fins on a fish
"So, Captain, why are you and this strange woman covered in cocaine, eggs and what smells like Bourbon?"
Steven Rogers could not begin to explain this situation. Here stood Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, waiting for an answer. If the man were not so stoic, no doubt he would have been tapping his foot, but Fury did not need such gestures. His glare alone was enough. For her part, the cause of all the ruckus stood proqe1udly in all her glory, rather unashamed in the compromising circumstance she found herself in. Currently, she was focusing on the thing white powder that covered everything with all the intensity with which Hulk glared at a rubber ducky.
"Meet Ms. Anna Proenzo," Rogers replied as squarely as he could. There was no point in hiding anything from SHIELD. If they wanted information they would get it, it was best to give it to them and save everyone some time, "genius, part time escort and drug addicted malcontent."
"I am aware of who she is," Fury nodded, acknowledging her for a second, "Why is she here? In your apartment?"
"I'm trying to help her get clean-"
"Does she want your help?"
"No." The definitive answer came for the woman herself, who cocked one eyebrow as she surveyed the man in the eye patch. Clearly a military man, he took her current state (in which she was wearing booty shorts and a bikini top, had a hair cut that looked more proper at a heavy metal concert and a tattoo of a key snaking around her torso exposed) in his stride.
"I saved your life," Rogers replied quietly in that way which suggested that he would rather not argue with her at all, but felt compelled to do so. Rather odd for the guy who had once been called 'polite as fuck'. A drunken Stark had laughed the words a few weekends ago but they rang true. Captain America only argued when he truly believed in what he was saying.
"Well we are going to have to relocate you now that you've drawn so much attention to yourself," Fury looked around at the carnage that the apartment (and much of the building) now faced. Not to mention the large and unconscious man who was lying not far away. Fury was willing to bet money that this man was somehow attacged to Miss. Proenzo; his best guess would be a disgruntled boyfriend. An abusive one if the steadily bleeding cut on Anna's shoulder was anything to go by.
"Alright, this is a private matter, and I'm going to go." Anna headed for the door but quickly found herself impeded by a defiant Captain Rogers who quickly blocked her escape, "You heard him."
Steve had once told Peggy that he was waiting for the write partner to dance with. For a long while he thought that she had been that partner. Now, decades into the future, he was still looking for a partner, for someone, anyone really, to share his something special with. This strange, ill tempered and slightly crazy woman hardly fit the bill of a true lady, but managed to keep his interest. She was a project, something for him to fix, to heal. And he would be content to leave the matter at that, but for some reason, she meant more to Steve than that, even if he didn't know it yet.
"You new apartment will be in Queens," Fury came to a decision, "Ms. Proenzo, I suggest you go with him."
"And you are?"
"Director Fury of SHIELD," Nick replied icily, "we've seen your work. You'll be best under the Cap's care."
Now why did that sound familiar? Ah yes. She had seen a super encrypted file with that label while she had been poking around in the NSA's hard drives. Apparently she had not gotten away with hacking their servers as well as she thought she had. Still, Anna had to admit that her curiosity was piqued. Still though, it was not as intense as her need to either sniff or wash the white powder that covered her body in a thin film off, sniff being the greater of the two compulsions.
It had been nearly a forty eight hours since she had quit cold turkey and she would be damned if she broke her streak for this military cover up bullshit. Her withdrawal wasn't pure agony yet, but every second she spent covered in her own personal poison, Anna could feel her control and her sanity slipping.
"Well, I'll pass on the whole military enforced imprisonment," swiping up a leather jacket, not her own, and her bag off the floor, Anna bolted around Mr. Clean-Nose and aimed for the door again, this time her bath impeded by the eye-patch.
"I insist." Now Nick had never met this woman, in fact all he had known her as was by her alias, 'LocksKey', but he didn't doubt that left to her own devices she would cause trouble. They were still determining how much information she had viewed or stolen in her last foray into some of the governments more secure databases.
"I don't have a choice in the matter do I?"
"You don't." both men replied at the same time.
"In that case, if I don't get a shower and a stiff drink in my hand in two minutes I will lose my shit and need a fucking sanatorium."
She was not joking.
"Good luck, Rogers." Fury pulled open the door and walked out.
"I'll be needing it, Sir."
As soon as the door shut, Anna dropped her bag on the floor and bolted for the bathroom. Running over broken glass and furniture, Anna bit hard enough into her lip to draw blood and didn't bother to answer Steve's calls. The pain in her feet didn't seem real as glass cut open her heel, the stinging of her shoulder didn't seem real. Reaching her destination, she jumped into the shower, turning it on full and hot. The scalding hot water didn't bother her, not as much as the snow that covered her body and itched like a million termites crawling under her skin.
The world was getting hazy and fuzzy.
"It's alright, your okay now," Steve was there rubbing her hand, not caring that his freshly washed and pressed shirt was getting wet, "just breathe, Anna, just breathe."
Forcing a breath in, Anna's vision cleared and she realized she had been holding her breath.
As surreptitiously as he could, Rogers turned the water down a little bit so it wasn't quite boiling. After a few minutes, once most of the powder was gone, Anna calmed down a fair bit and looked far more coherent and far less manic than she had moments earlier, though she certainly looked fatigued.
"I'm still leaving the first chance I get." It was a lie. Both of them knew it. Despite all her complaints and her rants, Anna could hardly imagine going back to the life she had lived, going back to that boy friend of hers who lay in the hallway drooling on the hardwood or that Madame who sold flesh like others sold meat. In a mere forty eight hours she had been shown a new life and craved it like the addict she was. She wouldn't leave. She couldn't.
Alrighty folks, this either going to be a oneshot or a series of oneshots all centered around Captain America and my OC.
Hopefully the rating is appropriate given the themes and language of the story. If it is inappropriate let me know and I will jack up the rating to M.
Reviews/criticisms/advice are all greatly appreciated!
VeilsofSleep