Come a little bit closer
You're my kind of man
So big and so strong
Come a little bit closer
I'm all alone
And the night is so long

-Come A Little Bit Closer; by Jay and the Americans

Brooklyn, New York, 1933

The first time Selma Alexander saw him, she was leaving the market after getting food for her aunt. She was trying to get home, and that was when she felt him looking at her. It was unsettling. Selma was accustomed to people looking at her — though their gazes weren't exactly friendly — but there was something about his gaze that just didn't go over well with her. When she worked up the nerve to look over at him, the corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile. Selma's heart stopped. That very moment, she convinced herself he was up to something. He had to be. No white man ever looked at her like that. When she looked away, she walking away as quickly as she could.

That had been the first time she would come across James Buchanan Barnes.

O.O.O.O

For weeks after that first encounter, Selma tried convincing herself that she'd never see him again. That there was no way in hell he'd ever be dumb enough to try and track her down; and for a while, she did manage to believe that. In no way, shape, or form did she ever run into him. Her next trip to the market had gone as well as she expected it to be. A few nasty looks here and there, maybe a few whispers to go along with those looks, but nothing she hadn't encountered before. Though she had to admit, the whole idea of her living in Brooklyn was to get away from the hostilities of her hometown in Virginia. Her mother, Ginny, had sent Selma and her sisters to live with relatives in the North when money became tight. Selma and her family came from a hardworking but struggling African American family, and the idea of having to be separated hurt. Selma was close to her sisters, especially her three-year-old sister, Minnie. It hurt more than words could express, having to leave Minnie.

Thankfully, Selma knew the addresses to where her sisters would be living, and made sure to write to them every week.

But, unfortunately, even living in the North had its difficulties. There wasn't as much violence as there had been in the South, but there were still so many people who looked at Selma as if she were trash. Whenever she walked down the streets, people gave her looks. There were a few instances where she wouldn't be doing anything but walking, and people would follow her. There was one instance, when Selma first moved to Brooklyn when she was thirteen, where she was walking back to her Aunt Janet's apartment after running an errand, and a few young boys — they had to be a year or two older than Selma — started chasing her and yelling insults. No one did anything. No one cared.

Selma had eventually tripped and cut her knees open, not far from her aunt's apartment building. The boys laughed. The only reason they didn't do anything else was because Selma's aunt ran out and started screaming at them. There had been a lot of trouble after that. A lot of things Selma didn't want to mention.

But after living in Brooklyn for three years, Selma started to adapt. She adjusted herself to her new surroundings and made sure make herself as invisible as possible. And it worked, until that day at the market. When that boy was looking at her.

And while she was grateful in not having to see him for weeks after that first encounter, she was almost mortified when she saw him again.

O.O.O.O

The second time Selma Alexander saw him, she was walking down the street. Thankfully, though, he was with a friend. His friend was small and scrawny, almost sickly looking. But despite his sickly appearance, he seemed rather lively and boyish. The scrawny friend didn't even look Selma's way, but his friend did. James Buchanan Barnes looked at her and gave another small smile.

Swallowing thickly, Selma quickened her pace.

He had to have something planned. That feeling in the pit of her stomach wouldn't go away. Even though the chances of them running into each other a second time seemed unlikely, it happened again and she couldn't help but feel unsettled by it, even if it was some kind of coincidence.

O.O.O.O

The third and final time she encountered James, Selma had been hanging out with some of the other kids in her apartment building. It had been at least two months since she first noticed him and about three and a half weeks since she saw him the second time. Selma didn't even notice him at first; she was so engrossed with the other kids, she didn't notice him looking at her. Selma and the other kids had been walking through the streets, talking and laughing, when one of the boys in their small group pointed out a "white kid giving them looks". When Selma turned to see who the others were looking at, she felt as if her heart would jump into her throat. It was him. How was Selma supposed to react? Looking away, she quickly turned in the other direction where her home was.

"Hey, where're you going?" Will, one of her neighbors, exclaimed.

"I forgot I needed to help my aunt around the place." Throwing a forced smile Will's way, Selma hoped she looked and sounded convincing enough. "I'll be sure to see you guys another time, right?" she exclaimed. The other kids looked at each other for a moment before going to their destination. Taking a deep breath, Selma continued on her way back to her apartment. If she could at least get back, then she wouldn't have to deal with him. She didn't even get five steps before she heard a voice calling out to her. She slowed her pace before picking it up. The sounds of footsteps behind her made Selma unconsciously flinch. Before she could take a step further, her path was blocked. James stood in front of her, his blue eyes wide as he caught his breath.

"Hey," he said, still sounding a little breathless. A small smile came on his face. "Hey."

Selma took a hesitant step back. Looking back to where her friends had been, she noticed how they were too far away to really see or hear what was going on. An uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach. "What do you want?" she muttered. "I haven't done a single damn thing to you."

"I just wanted to come talk to you," he said. "I've seen you a few times. I-I mean. . . .you've seen me, too, but. . . ."

"What do you want?" The question was repeated with more emphasis, harsher and with a hint of fear underneath. That seemed to catch his attention.

"If you think I'm going to hurt you, I'm not," he exclaimed. He sounded a little defensive. "I'm not like that. I don't want to be like that."

"Bullshit," Selma hissed.

"Look, when I heard, a couple years ago, about someone moving into that apartment building downtown, I didn't think much of it," he explained, "but I. . . ."

"I don't have time for this," Selma interrupted.

"Just. . . .I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he exclaimed. "I wanted to say. . . .I mean. . . .I heard Janet Duchannes had a niece, but I didn't think. . . ." The scowl on Selma's face caused James to stop his stuttering. Clearing his throat, James tried straightening his shoulders. "I'm James Buchanan Barnes," he exclaimed. "And. . . ." When he paused, he studied the scowl on Selma's face, the defensive way she stood. He knew what he was going to say next was going to be greeted with disbelief and maybe even some yelling. In all honesty, he had noticed Selma a while before she noticed him. There was just something about her that really caught his attention. Was it the way she held herself? She had a level of confidence about her, though she kept to herself most of the time. Despite Selma having lived in Brooklyn for only three years, and James not noticing her until not that long ago, he felt something stirring inside him that he'd never felt.

"And what?" Selma's clipped voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"And I think. . . .I think I want to get to know you," he replied. It wasn't a complete lie, but it was better than saying what he originally planned on saying. "I really want to know you."

Siberia, 2014

"Are you sure about this?"

Looking at the cryotube, there was a heavy silence. Since H.Y.D.R.A.'s downfall, things only seemed to be getting worse. Operation Insight had been foiled by Captain America, one of his Avengers companions, and a civilian. Alexander Pierce had been killed. All of H.Y.D.R.A.'s data had been released onto the internet. The Winter Soldier had gone rogue. The very foundation of H.Y.D.R.A. had been torn from under them in just a couple days. What were they supposed to do? For one, get the Soldier back. And it was either release the twins before they could master their powers, or release her. When Operation Insight had been a mere idea, even before it was a flicker in anyone's eye, she had been useful; but Pierce had deemed her unnecessary for Insight's progression. The Winter Soldier, given his specialized training, had been considered useful. She'd remain in cryostasis until the Operation's completion.

Given the Operation's failure, she was needed. Since the twins' powers were still out of control, she was their last hope. Her training had been brutal, though not as harsh as the Winter Soldier's. Some held different views on that, however.

An older man, sporting a nice suit and slicked back graying-black hair, let out a slightly frustrated sigh. He could faintly see her face through the cryotube's small, frosted window near the top. She looked to be somewhere in her mid to late twenties, her black hair falling around her face. She almost looked peaceful.

"She's our last choice." The older man pursed his lips. "She'll have to do."*

(A/N):

Holy cow I am so, so sorry for making you guys wait however long it took me to post this chapter. In all honesty, I got a brain fart halfway through this so I had to rewrite this chapter three times before I finally decided to just stick with what I was writing and move on. This isn't my favorite chapter, despite it being the first one, since I was just struggling so much with it. I wanted to make something a little different — not super, ridiculously different, but still — but for some reason my brain wasn't cooperating with me. I'd have an idea, I would go to write it down, but my brain would make it hard to properly write down what I wanted to express. MOVING ON.

Do I own anything in the MCU? No. No I don't.

If there's anything — and I am super serious about this, too — that comes off as confusing or unclear, don't hesitate to PM me or just leave a review to remind me. I'll explain it either in the PM you sent or I'll explain it in the next chapter in the author's note. But, seriously, if I don't know what's bothering you guys, I don't know what to clarify for you guys.

Anywho~

Be kind to one another, don't text and drive, and I hope you guys enjoy whatever nice weather comes your way.

Thanks.

Sully