Violet-Sky felt a hand brush down the burn scar that ran the entire length of her left arm, brusquely, as she walked down the busy streets of Washington DC. She hated it when people touched it. "Don't look alarmed, don't slow down, and don't resist," a familiar voice instructed, wrapping her left arm through the crook of his right elbow. She glanced up at the face that belonged to the voice with her strangely purple eyes.

"Captain!" she exclaimed, quietly. Six months ago, SHIELD had been… compromised. And Captain America had disappeared. Having lost the company they worked for, she and Clint—as he was her caregiver—had blown with the wind. They'd lived with Tony Stark for a time—as the billionaire had a peculiar soft spot for the young purple-eyed agent—but after a while they were drifting again.

"I'm being followed, and I need you to come with me, help me lose them," he murmured quietly. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Clint will kill me if I put you in harm's way—"

"But I'm eighteen now and I can take care of myself. It's been a year since Barney, and now he trusts me more to go out on my own missions. I always come back alive," she interrupted. "Well, usually he comes with me on missions… or Tristan does. But I can go on my own."

"Speaking of Clint, how come you two weren't around when the Headquarters were blown up?"

"I'm sorry! We were in Taiwan looking for a Relic that Thor asked us to find. When we heard something was going to go down we hopped on our Quinjet to get back, but we were too late. By the time we reached the city you and Natasha had already gone. We helped with cleanup, and we hoped that if we stayed long enough, SHIELD would either reform or you would come back. So far, only one of those came true."

"I only came back because I was looking for you two. Where's Clint?"

"Back at his other apartment in New York. I volunteered to stay at the one here in case you came back."

"Well… we don't have time to go and pick him up, so it'll have to be just you and me."

Violet-Sky scratched at an itch on the back of her head, digging her finger through the braid to reach the skin. "Cool. When do we start?" she asked. Steve wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pretended to laugh at something while they passed by some people who looked a bit… unsavory.

"You enjoy danger too much," Steve remarked.

"So?" Violet-Sky retorted.

Steve was silent for a moment. "We need to change directions. Pretend to get a phone call and agree to meet Tristan somewhere or someone."

The young former-SHIELD agent pulled her "dumbphone" out of her pocket. "Hello? Hi Angelina! Sure we can meet up for coffee. When? Now? Okay. You're lucky I'm free. But I'm with Jack—" Jack was the name of the boy down the street she used to babysit, "—so he'll have to come too. That's okay? Cool. We'll see you in five minutes." She put the phone back in her pocket. "What was that all about?"

"I think they're right behind us, and we need to get to my apartment to grab some of my stuff, but we were headed the wrong way," Steve murmured under his breath. "And we need to come up with some kind of story about you being my niece or my little sister."

"We don't look anything alike," the archer pointed out. "How about I just say I'm your girlfriend and I look younger than I am. I mean, I'm eighteen, but I've been told by a lot of people I could pass for twenty or twenty-one." She had one eyebrow raised. "No one would buy that we're family in a million years—especially if they're Special Forces like you're making me believe."

"Well, I'm ninety-five but I can pass for twenty-five," Steve teased.

"Touché old man," Violet-Sky joked. "But you were twenty-three when you were frozen, which makes you—loosely speaking—twenty five now. That puts me at seven years younger than you. Which is not that terrible a gap. And if anyone asks we can say I'm twenty-one. That puts me at four years younger than you. Which is even better. And it's a much more believable story since we don't feel like family so we don't act like family. After we get your stuff, we need to go to my place and grab my lipstick." Steve rolled his eyes.

"Seriously kiddo?" he demanded. "We're going on-the-run and you're thinking about your lipstick?"

"It's old SHIELD-issued. It can induce sleep or poison, depending on the end I use. It's a decent weapon. Kiss and kill at the same time."

"You've kissed guys?" His voice was a mixture of curiosity and incredulity.

"Not romantically. But it's great to be a girl with an amazingly uncommon pair of eyes. Guys fall for me the second I start to try flirting with them. And when it's a terroristic general, poison is usually the option I go for."

"Just promise you're not going to do that to me okay?"

"Why in Jotunheim would I do that to you?" she snapped. "You're the only friend I've got around here!"

"Just making sure, Vi. Can I call you Vi?"

"Oh sure. But remember, once you name something, you start getting attached to it," she reminded him jokingly.

"But… Clint calls you Vi."

"Yup," she replied, popping the p. "And he's overly attached to me."

They were in Steve's apartment. The patriotic, vibranium shield was situated on Violet-Sky's lap where she was seated on the sofa. Steve was searching his bedroom for his stealth suit. Violet-Sky—to fill the silence of the apartment—prattled inanely about whatever came to her mind. Most of it was the fact that she had just hit SHIELD level seven—though she hadn't even known that level even existed until her promotion—when the company was compromised and shut down. She talked about how she didn't know where Tristan had disappeared off to since the fiasco.

"I'm sorry, Violet-Sky, can you stop talking for just one second?" Steve asked. She shrugged—even though he couldn't see her because he was down the hall—and relaxed deeper into her spot on the couch. He emerged with something folded in his arms. "Okay. We gotta get moving. Fast. Mind riding behind me on the bike?"

"Not at all."

They got to Clint's DC apartment to find it empty, but obvious that someone searched it. Violet-Sky bolted to her room. "Yes! They didn't take the lipstick!" she exclaimed quietly. She took the double-ended tube and pocketed it. With quick movements, she found a rucksack and stuffed her combat clothes into it with a bathing suit, pajamas, toiletries (like her toothbrush), and two other outfits. One to wear, one to wash, one to dry, Clint had advised her when she needed civilian clothing. Also, her bow and quiver were crossed over her back.

"Ready?" Steve asked.

"Sure. Where are we going?"

"Cross country."

"On a motorbike?"

"Well… yeah."

"Epic."

"And… you're pretending to be my girlfriend."

"Sweet. Let's do this!"

End Note: My math on Steve's age is wrong, I know that, but I also needed to make the age gap a little less... severe. And I thought I had it right in the first place. But, whatever. Sorry to the purists.

Thanks for reading!

~Cass

PS, callieandjack! Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for being patient!