Chapter 1: Hunt Or Be Hunted

It was a magical evening that glittered like the very lights of London itself; the partygoers seemingly under its spell as they danced away to the band's rendition of popular jazz songs. The champagne flowed and laughter sparkled in the air as a young man in a well-fitted black tuxedo wove through the throng of socialites.

James Buchanan Barnes' blue eyes remained as sharp as ever as he scanned the crowd carefully, the flute of champagne in his hand barely touched. He couldn't afford to lose his concentration, not tonight. He was running out of chances and this was the closest he had ever come in all three years. Standing on the marble steps of the ballroom, he figured it was a good vantage point. Truth be told, he was still unsure of exactly who he was looking for. His only reference was a blurry photograph he had managed to snag from a security camera twelve months ago. With that and the sound of her voice to go by, it wasn't much. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of bright brown eyes followed his every movement from across the room.

Draped in an elegant black gown that sat off her shoulders and ended in a long, thigh-high split, Lola Hunter watched her prey with great amusement. Her red lips curled up into a sly smile as his eyes seemed to dart everywhere except her, and she sipped at her champagne, careful to wipe the empty flute of any lipstick stains or fingerprints. Not that it made much difference, he had managed to gather that much after the three years he had spent chasing her. It was an elaborate game of cat and mouse, and it was a shame that he was so handsome- but she was on the wrong side of the law.

Drawing out the burner phone she kept stowed in her clutch, Lola dialled the number she knew by memory after three long years. Her smirk widened when he answered, his ears pricking up as he tried desperately to follow the scent.

"Good evening, Sergeant Barnes."

"It's Agent. Has been for a while now."

"Sergeant is so much sexier, don't you think?"

There was an unintelligible mumble, as Steve Rogers approached and the two men exchanged short words. She caught wind of 'Hunter' and 'Bucky'; the rest a mere grumble. She grinned, as his eyes passed over the crowd once more in a bid to search her out.

"Speaking of sexy," she trilled. "There's someone at the bar checking you out."

Bucky's blue eyes flew to the bar at that, flitting through the people perched there until they met hers. His jaw clenched immediately, highlighting the sharp accent of his cheekbones and his eyes darkened like a wolf ready to pounce. Raising a hand, Lola waggled her fingers in greeting. It was, after all, their first real face to face encounter and she was more than happy to make the most of it.

"It's the first time you've laid eyes on me, Sergeant. What's your first impression?" she drawled into the phone.

"That you're not as smart as you think." he retorted, already diving through the dancers and refusing to rise to her bait.

His sudden movement had alerted his team, and no sooner had they spotted who he was after, they all headed in the same direction. But, Lola wasn't worried, not yet, her conversation with Bucky increasingly important.

"Ouch, that's not very gentlemanly of you at all."

"You're a criminal."

"Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere." she said calmly, standing up. "And this bad girl has to leave now."

"You're not goin' anywhere!" he growled, pushing a waiter aside.

"Oh, Sergeant." she sighed. "I really wish you'd thought this through."

"Every exit's blocked, I got men at every door, I think I was pretty thorough." he laughed, nearing her with every passing second.

"Who said I was headed to an exit?"

Lola's smirk rooted Bucky to the spot, hesitation flashing in his eyes momentarily as he considered her question. In the split second he took to glance at Steve, she vanished like smoke in the night. Spouting curses, Bucky growled and shoved his phone back in his pocket, the line dead. She was gone.

Lola watched from the shadows as the team of SHIELD agents dispersed, Bucky barking out orders as Captain Rogers did his best to calm down the crowd and explain the situation. With one last look at the handsome Sergeant, she backed away slowly and slipped down the corridor, having memorised the museum's blueprints a week ago. A second set of footsteps joined her and with a steely gaze fixed ahead, she snapped her clutch closed.

"Did you get it?"

"No."

Lola whipped around to face Loki, her eyes narrowed.

"What?" she hissed, anger creeping up her cheeks. "I just risked being caught and you didn't get it?"

"It wasn't there." he hissed back, as they escaped into the cold night air.

"What do you mean it wasn't there?" she demanded, flashing a charming smile at the valet.

"I mean that whoever told you it would be there was either wrong or lying to you." replied Loki, as the valet opened the door to a sleek black jaguar.

"Your car, Mrs. Barnes." smiled the valet. "I hope you had a pleasant evening."

"Oh, it was wonderful. Thank you." said Lola serenely, batting her lashes and sliding into the passenger seat seamlessly.

"How does he afford a car like this on a government salary?" asked Loki, gripping the steering wheel.

"Don't change the subject." she snapped, as they whizzed out on to the road. "Loki, this was supposed to be it. My one chance at a clean slate. Clint and I are leaving tomorrow."

"I'll find out what I can, see if my contacts have heard any whispers." murmured Loki, weaving effortlessly in and out of the traffic. "But for now, it seems like we're back to the drawing board."


Bucky Barnes was having a foul morning. Or something along those lines, considering he hadn't slept a wink all night. Hunter had disappeared without a trace, leaving him and a team of agents to comb through the entire museum from top to bottom. It had taken them hours, as they had repeated the exercise several times and yet, it seemed that she hadn't actually stolen anything.

Well, strictly speaking, that wasn't true. She had stolen his car; his new, Jaguar XF that was kitted out with all the extras a SHIELD agent of his stature could possibly need. Steve might have been his best friend, but Captain Rogers was his boss, and he hadn't been impressed in the slightest.

Neither had his wife, Natasha Romanoff. They were in the middle of a messy divorce, a divorce that had been necessitated because Natasha could no longer handle the fact that in the entire three years of their relationship, her husband spent more of his time chasing after another woman. Every time he had missed a dinner reservation, or a film screening, or a theatre production, he would return home with a bouquet of roses and shower Natasha with affection. It worked the first couple of times, but eventually, the charm wore off. Knowing that her nemesis had stolen Bucky's car under the pretense that she was his wife had been the proverbial nail in the coffin.

With dark circles under his eyes and his tie loosened, Bucky had decided to head into the office at four o'clock in the morning after Natasha had locked him out. He sat at his desk, holding the one blurry photograph of Hunter he possessed until seven, when the building began to come alive. After a quick shower in the locker rooms and three cups of coffee, he had found himself at the Bank of England, working on another unsolved case.

"7." said Sam Wilson, his hands pressed to the door of the vault.

"4." he said next, as Brock Rumlow made a quick note.

"4."

"Again?"

"Again. 3. 5. 3."

There was a loud click, and all the agents exchanged a quick glance, as eager as each other. Sam prepared to open the vault door as Bucky repeated the numbers in his head, his eyebrows furrowed.

"7, 4, 4, 3, 5, 3." he murmured. "Wait!"

BOOM!

A thick grey cloud engulfed the small room, Bucky coughing and spluttering as he dived to the vault door to make sure Sam was alright. There was dust everywhere, and Bucky brushed off the debris, the remains of the vault door lying in smithereens. Inside the large, reinforced safe, sat nothing but some marked notes and a condolence card, a mocking gesture. Screaming in frustration, Bucky kicked the notes and the cash scattered over the floor.

"I told you to wait!" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Sam. "The numbers, what do they spell out?"

Sam looked back at him blankly, looking at Brock desperately for some help. Bucky rubbed his temples wearily and looked around at his team. Despite the dirt smeared across their faces, there was no disguising their fear.

"C'mon, you all went to Harvard! Oxford! Yale! Cambridge! Not one o' you can figure it out?"

"SHIELD." said Sam quietly, looking down at his feet.

"He knew we were coming for him." surmised Brock, folding his arms.

"Yeah, no shit, Rumlow." snapped Bucky. "Damn it!"

Bucky didn't have long to dwell on his troubles as his phone rang, startling everyone. He answered it with a scowl.

"Agent Barnes." came Maria Hill's calm voice. "We've got a hit on Hunter."


Lola sniffed, the glass bottle clutched in her hands. It was the only thing left, and when she had picked it up, she knew it was a signal of the end. Her heart breaking, she had sunk against a concrete pillar and let her sadness consume her, sobbing loudly as she collapsed to the floor and clasped the bottle to her chest. The wine was long gone, her lover and her heart with it.

That had been an hour ago, and she hadn't found the strength within her to move. She felt so empty, the numbness seeping in through the gaping hole in her chest and rendering her immobile. It was why she didn't move when she heard the footsteps in the stairwell or the cock of a gun.

"I know you're there, Sergeant Barnes." she called out, fingers running over the bottle's label.

Bucky appeared from around the pillar, his gun aloft with an expert's grasp. The surprise in his eyes was evident, but it didn't stop him from aiming the weapon at her.

"Are you armed?" he demanded.

"You know I don't like guns." she replied softly, cocking an eyebrow.

Bucky observed her for a moment, and seemingly deciding that she wasn't about to put a bullet between his eyes, lowered his weapon. He held it tightly nonetheless, ready to raise it if necessary, but Lola didn't seem to be in the mood for games, as she remained relatively unperturbed by his presence.

"How did you find me?" she asked curiously, looking up at him through watery eyes.

"Traffic cam across the road." he answered shortly. "Thought you were more careful than that."

"I thought I'd be long gone by the time you arrived. I suppose I'm full of surprises today."

"You sure are." he remarked, perching on the window ledge in front of her. "What's with the waterworks?"

Lola laughed harshly, fixing him with a solemn look.

"Clint's gone."

"Your boyfriend?"

"Not sure how much of a boyfriend he is considering all he left me with is this bottle and a lousy broken heart."

Bucky stayed silent. Though he didn't dare to admit it, he felt a stab of pity for Lola. Heartbreak was a bitch, and she looked nothing like the confident, devilish woman he was familiar with. She was a mere ghost; a pale face stained with tears and smudged mascara. She was still pretty, but, he reminded himself that she was still a criminal and that a broken heart didn't excuse her wrongdoings.

"We were supposed to run away together." she continued, taking his silence as an invitation. "We were going to leave the country."

"Don't 'spose you wanna tell me where you were plannin' to go." he asked and she shot him a nasty glare.

"I'm scorned, not stupid."

"What happened?"

"I don't know." she sighed, tears filling her eyes again. "We were supposed to meet here, the first place we ever stayed together. When I got here, there was nothing but this bottle and I just knew he was gone."

"You got all that from an empty bottle?"

"Don't you and your wife have something that's memorable only to you?"

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"Uh…"

"Oh, yes, I forgot. You're getting divorced." she remembered, making him frown.

"How the hell d'you know that?"

"You stuck your nose into my life, I only returned the favour." she stated with a roll of her eyes.

The earpiece in Bucky's ear buzzed with Steve's voice, announcing SHIELD's imminent arrival. He sighed and stowed his gun away, knowing that there would be no need for it. Lola wasn't going anywhere.

"You know what's 'bout to happen." he began, and she nodded her head.

Putting down the bottle, Lola stood up and brushed the dirt off her black trousers. Holding her wrists out, she cocked an arched eyebrow and smirked seductively at Bucky.

"Handcuff me, Sergeant."

Bucky exhaled deeply, looking at her wearily. How she could flirt so outrageously at the man about to put her behind bars for the foreseeable future was beyond him. As he unclipped the handcuffs from his belt, she furrowed her brows and stared at his left shoulder. Her hand stretched out and he quickly reached for his gun.

"No, no." she said quickly, holding her hands up in surrender. "You have something there. May I?"

Bucky eyed her curiously, but intrigued, he dipped his shoulder forward, hand still hovering over his gun. Rolling her big, brown eyes, Lola pinched at his left shoulder, and when she drew back, there was a silver strip in between her fingers. She laughed breathlessly and held it up in the light.

"Do you know what this is?"

Bucky shrugged.

"What's it worth?" she asked quickly, as heavy footsteps thundered up the stairwell.

"What?"

"If I tell you what this is right now, will you come see me in prison?" she bargained, eyes shining excitedly.

"Hunter- "

"One meeting. That's all I'm asking for. One hour of your time in exchange for this."

"Fine." he relented, taking the silver strip from her grasp.

"Vibranium." she said breathlessly, as the room was swarmed by SHIELD agents. "It's Vibranium from Wakanda."

Bucky nodded, his eyes promising that he would uphold his end of their deal as Steve pounced on Lola, pulling her arms behind her back and snapping a pair of handcuffs on her wrist. She didn't object, merely kept her eyes fixed on Bucky as she was read her legal rights and dragged out the building, a triumphant smile etched on her features.


"Sir?"

Bucky jerked up, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. The guard was looking at him cautiously, his hand hovering over the red button. Bucky nodded, answering the guard's unspoken question. There was a loud ringing, followed by a buzz, before the reinforced gate slid open, allowing Bucky to slip through. He walked the length of the corridor, sucking in a deep breath before he entered the room at the very end.

Lola was waiting for him, her hands in cuffs that were chained to the table and a coy grin on her lips. Her brown hair tumbled in messy waves around her shoulders, her face void of any make-up. The orange jumpsuit she wore looked several sizes too big for her, but hey, she was in prison, not a fashion show.

"I've been waiting for you, Sergeant." she said, as he took the seat across from her.

"Aw, honey, did you miss me?" he teased, grinning mockingly for her benefit.

"Oh, please, your life is boring without me and you know it." she scoffed.

"Don't give yourself too much credit. I got enough to keep my hands full without you runnin' riot."

"And yet here you are." she smiled, leaning back in her chair lazily. "That must mean I was right."

Bucky scowled, not wanting to inflate her ego any further. Nor did he want to admit that she was right, but, a deal was a deal and he was a man of his word.

"It was Vibranium." he confirmed, and her grin widened. "When I went to the embassy, the Wakandans were very intrigued that I knew what it was."

"They were upset, weren't they?" she deduced. "Well, I would be too, if someone was stealing something I was desperate to conceal from the rest of the world."

"Wakanda's a third world country." frowned Bucky.

"As far as you know."

"Alright, Hunter. You wanted me, here I am. What's your play?"

Lola cocked her head to one side, watching the impatience grow on Bucky's face. His jaw was clenched again, and she could practically see the veins popping. Taking pity, she picked up the brown folder beside her and pushed it across the plastic table. Encouraging him to open it, she waited patiently as he examined its contents.

"I had my lawyer draft it." she explained, and his eyes flitted up to meet hers. "It's legally binding."

"You have a lawyer now?"

"Check his credentials if you must, they're legitimate." she promised. "If you sign that, I'll be released from prison."

"No."

"I'll be released into your custody!" she elaborated, as he snapped the folder shut and all but flung it back across the table. "I know you're after The Dealer."

Bucky stiffened.

"What d'you know 'bout The Dealer?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"I know you've been after him almost as long as you've been after me." she commented, wringing her fingers together. "I've crossed paths with him before."

"You know who he is? Tell me!"

"No-one knows. At least, no-one outside of his inner circle."

"In which case, you're no help at all." said Bucky abruptly, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape.

"I know he's the one who stole from the Wakandans." she called out to his retreating back. "And I know he's the biggest arms dealer on the black market. Luckily for you, I know the black market. I have contacts and resources that SHIELD couldn't even dream of."

"You're gonna flip on all your pals just for me to babysit you?" laughed Bucky, not believing his ears.

"I steal paintings." she corrected. "I steal jewels and I forge art and falsify documents. I'd be happy to give you the names of murderers, rapists and arsonists. I might be a criminal, but I don't hurt people, Sergeant."


A/N: New idea, new story. I've never written action before, so please be gentle, it's my first time. I felt inspired to write this, so I hope you will enjoy reading it. Please do leave your reviews and comments, feedback is always appreciated and I love hearing what you think.

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Thank you so much to Reality Rejection Service for mulling over my musings and writing, you are an absolute gem.