This is the second story in the Captain America/Winter Soldier pair. It would be best to begin the other story ("Marsaxlokk") first, since the current story below assumes knowledge that is presented new in "Marsaxlokk". The other story will eventually merge to complete with this one, as well. However, it is not necessary to read the other to understand this one at all.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 1

"Alice, please don't."

Waving her hands excitedly, Alice looked at her friend and said, "Too late. I already told Mike that you would be coming. It is final."

"No, it isn't, since I did not agree. I am really not interested, Alice. Ok? Why won't you listen to me?"

"Because you are a sad, lonely girl with no boyfriend. You need to occasionally leave your apartment without your brother. You really need to have some fun, honey. Most of all, you need to let yourself live a little, ok? You don't have to be so uptight. It isn't 1950 and you're a grown woman. You can kiss a man without waiting for a marriage proposal, you know."

Mary-Claire frowned angrily at her friend, "Ok, listen. I have told you so many times and I'm really tired of explaining. That is just not how I do things, Alice. I am not going to give away kisses to anyone that I don't truly love. I am not going to go on a date just to 'get out of my apartment'. It isn't fun to waste anyone's time like that. If you cannot accept that, well then, you don't really understand me, which is pretty strange since you've known me my whole life."

Rolling her eyes dismissively, Alice teased, "Ugh! You are such a nun. You are wasting your twenties. You always look so sad and tired, so I worry about you. Robert and Glenn are both worried about you, too, you know. You need to go have fun!"

"I do have fun. And Alice, seriously, I am just a regular Catholic, not a nun. I wish you'd let that go. I trust my church to lead me to make a good decision, so I'm going to wait to do things the right way. I'm so incredibly tired of explaining that to you."

"What is one blind date with Mike Auerbach going to matter? You know he has had a major thing for you for two years. He just wants to take you out and show you a good time, honey."

Sounding horrified, Mary-Claire declared, "If that is really true, Alice, if it is true that he has had a crush on me and you agreed to a blind date on my behalf with him then that is just horribly cruel. How could you do that?"

"Mike has made puppy dog eyes at you for ages, silly. You really didn't know?"

Mary-Claire groaned and shook her head. "And now you've just told him that I'd go out with him? Alice! That's…that is just so thoughtless of you. Do you imagine that I'd take advantage of the poor man just for an evening of meaningless entertainment?"

Clearly feeling that her friend was overreacting, Alice said, "He'll just be happy to drag you to some of the places where all his friends are, so they see him with a knockout like you."

"Yes, because that sounds like such fun. No, Alice. You made the date, so you need to call it off. It would be worse for me to go and let him think he is getting a nice date with someone he likes only to realise that I'm not interested at all, bless his heart."

Alice slapped her cup onto the table in front of her. "Ok fine, you caught me. I told him that I'd ask you, but I didn't commit you to anything. However, I wish you would let yourself just have fun. You won't even have one drink. I love you, sugar, and I'm worried about you. You are always way too busy with work and you never, ever go out and have fun."

Getting up from her chair, Mary-Claire replied in a voice full of hurt, "That's funny, Alice, you know? I thought two friends getting together to hang out was having fun. I'm done with this conversation. I think that I'm just going to go home."

Mary-Claire hurried past the chair in which a man was hunched down with a Mets hat pulled too far down his forehead and a cup of coffee frozen midway to his mouth. The man stared as a tall slender redhead raced after the very petite young woman, and was calling out to her friend, "Mary-Claire wait!"

The man, who finally realized that he was still staring in the direction the extraordinarily beautiful young woman had run, sat down his coffee cup and breathed out shakily. He muttered, "Well that was unexpected." Then he got up and wandered out of the coffee shop with his nearly full cup left forgotten on a table.

"What is wrong with you? You should have had that."

Steve looked Natasha in the eye and replied, "I know. I'm sorry. Let's go again."

Natasha narrowed her eyes and said, "Really? Rogers."

He breathed out forcefully and replied, "Romanov."

"Do you honestly expect me not to be able to read you, Rogers? I would have expected this from Wilson maybe, but not you. Man up."

"As I said, let's go again."

Natasha suddenly came at him with full force and they began sparring aggressively. Nearly twenty minutes later, Natasha stopped and said, "Forget it, Rogers. That's enough."

"Fine."

"I hope you can give better than that when we next get called out, Rogers. That was not even 75%."

Steve shrugged. "Probably not even 50% honestly. Best I got today."

Picking up a knife and a rope that she had dropped, Natasha replied, "Not good enough. Who is she?"

"No idea. I wouldn't even know how to find her again. I haven't even spoken to her."

Startled, Natasha replied, "Well that isn't what I expected."

"Me neither. I'm going to get a shower."

Laughing slightly, Natasha said, "I bet. Sorry, Rogers. You can't go out there like this, you know. You have to find your focus, or you'll be more of a danger to us than a help."

Steve nodded. "I know. It only happened this morning, Natasha. I'll get my mind on track. You don't have to worry."

Raising her eyebrows in response to his admission, Natasha answered, "You're better than this, Rogers."

He couldn't believe it. Finally, after two weeks of him acting like a stalking creep by coming as often as he could to the coffee shop to look for her, she had finally returned. Steve watched the petite young woman as she waited in the line to place her order. This time he could see her beauty even more clearly and it terrified him. What was he going to say to a girl that looked like that?

Steve laughed internally at himself. He was ridiculous. For days he had subsisted mainly on the hope of just seeing the girl again, but he hadn't actually figured out what to say. How could he be so skilled at strategizing complex battle plans, but not be capable of talking to a girl? He quietly lifted his sketchbook from the table in front of him and mentally chanted, "Don't sit over there. Don't sit over there." However, she sat over on the other side of the coffee shop. Of course, she did.

Steve took off his hat for a moment to rub his hand frustratedly through his hair. He was still that scared little pipsqueak from Brooklyn with no clue how to talk to a woman. No, he wasn't really. He could talk to women in general. He had talked to hundreds during the USO tours. It was not talking to women but talking to a girl. Or perhaps talking to a girl as Steve Rogers, not Captain America. And asking a stunningly beautiful girl on a date: that he had literally never done. He'd even failed spectacularly at it with Peggy.

Pushing away the pain that thought had given him, Steve took a deep breath and tried to glance the girl's way without her noticing. Good heavens, was it possible for a girl to be that beautiful? She was so perfect that it hurt. Suddenly realizing that he was staring, Steve turned his head and flipped the cover of his sketchbook open. He focussed his attention on the paper and began to draw furiously. After a few minutes, he drew so angrily and bitterly that he never noticed when the young woman walked past him to the stand where the coffee fixings were. He was too caught up in his own self-recrimination to realise that she looked down at him as she passed. He didn't even catch on that she purposely looked back at him before she headed for the door of the café. However, when he next looked up and discovered that she had left, Steve was so shocked that he dropped his sketchbook in his lap and looked around for her. He had lost his chance.

He got up from his chair and tucked his sketchbook under his arm. Then he grabbed his coffee cup and drifted out of the shop disconsolately. It was a beautiful sunny day, but he didn't feel very much like enjoying it. Deciding to just get on with it, Steve began walking quickly in the direction of his apartment. He needed the walk, but he wasn't in the mood for people. Who was he kidding? He was never in the mood for people. Anyway, he only had a couple of hours before Sam would be by to look the maps again. He knew where he wanted to go, but he didn't think Sam could afford another month wandering around Eastern Europe yet. He didn't even have a good reason beyond a desperate hunch to go back there. They'd spent everything they had left on North Africa and that had given them only one strange lead in Algiers that didn't pan out. A crazy Russian man with a beautiful redhead in tow didn't exactly sound like Buck on the run and in hiding.

As he hopped up the stairs to his apartment two at a time twenty minutes later, Steve stopped near the top and paused. Then he laughed and said, "I don't know why I don't just give you a key. You're here often enough."

"Well, it would make things easier, man."

"All right. Hold on." Steve fished out his key ring and tossed it to Sam. "Did I get the time wrong?"

"Nah, just heard something."

Steve sobered up quickly and waited until the door to his apartment was shut firmly behind them before he asked, "What is it?"

"You remember the Russian nutjob that doctor in Algiers told us about?"

"Yeah, sure. The one that had a beautiful English wife, who the doctor just couldn't stop talking about."

"Yep, that one. Okay, so there is another report of a Russian up in Canada that makes the crazy Russian dude in Algeria sound tame. And this one had a beautiful girl with him, too. The police report says she was very tall and blond. However, one of them mentioned the girl walked with crutches."

Steve's eyebrows shot up as he said thoughtfully, "Just like the petite redhead."

"Exactly. I don't know. Maybe it's something."

"Yeah, I…I don't know, Sam. I know Bucky had a way with women back then, but it is a little much to expect that he convinced a girl to go on the run with him when he had barely escaped from HYDRA."

"Maybe she is someone he knew from HYDRA?"

"A beautiful girl with crutches? Doesn't sound very like the HYDRA I know, Sam. It's a pretty big stretch. Still, it's a lead. Okay, where in Canada and when?"

"Uh…Thunder Bay. Plus 9 weeks."

Steve frowned as he peered with intense concentration at the map in front of him. "Okay, that's interesting. So, it is before our Algerian lead, which was at…plus 11 weeks."

"Yes. I asked my guy if he could give us any other police reports about crazy Russian guys around that time, especially if they had a pretty girl with them."

"What did he say?"

Sam smiled. "I wouldn't like to shock you. Language, you know."

Steve laughed. "Ok, I guess that is a bit of a broad request."

"My friend reminded me that there is a sizeable Russian mafia throughout Canada. Besides, he's Air Force, not police. He only heard about this guy because his cousin is married to a cop there in Thunder Bay."

"How far a drive is it?"

"Long as hell, man. A day if we drive straight."

"Ah, ok. Well…I guess it doesn't hurt to check it out. What's your schedule next week? Can you do a long weekend or would it better to go next week?"

"I can do it. I already told Brian that I wouldn't be in Monday and maybe Tuesday."

Steve nodded. "You know you don't have to go, right? I know you need this job, Sam. I can do this one alone. It's only Canada."

Sam shrugged. "It's only Canada, so I'm good."

Sighing with relief, Steve replied, "Thanks. You know I appreciate it, Sam. I just don't want you to get into trouble because of me."

"Steve, man, I said it's good."

Gripping his friend's shoulder for a minute, Steve then passed by to go to the kitchen.

"So, did you go to the café again?"

With his hand still stretched towards the cupboard above, Steve paused and looked back. "Yes. She was there this time."

"And?"

"Mission aborted."

Sam made a face. "Ouch."

"Didn't say something before it was too late, so it's my own fault. I don't think I'll go back again though. Coffee?"

"Didn't have enough already?"

"I could use a cup."

"All right. I'll have one too, then. And tonight, we are getting something different for dinner because I am tired of the same 3 options."

Steve laughed lightly. "Ok, you choose then."

"D*** right, I will. You eat like a cross between a college kid and my grandad."

"All right, funny."

Alice and Mary-Claire sat in silence as they both looked down at their plates. Mary-Claire finally said, "It's ok, Alice. I understand, really."

"It isn't ok, honey. I get so caught up in my plans sometimes that I forget that other people might not want the same things that I would. I've been friends with you for 28 years. I definitely know what is important to you and what your values are. I crossed a line and I need to apologise."

"I know you meant well. I do want to date, of course I do. However, I don't just want a boyfriend or a fun evening. I want to find the right person to marry. That is such a different goal."

"I know, honey, which is how we are totally different. Yet, how are you supposed to find this husband you want so much if you won't even go on a date?"

Mary-Claire replied, "I will go on a date when I find someone that seems like a possibility. I've been on a handful of dates. None of them were right."

"Why? Just because the guys get bowled over by your huge blue eyes and perfect curves? Darling, I'm intimidated by them and I'm a girl. If you hadn't been my best friend since birth, then I would hate you. You walk out of the shower with the most perfect, shiny black hair I've ever seen. I spend a fortune on my red frizz to make it look good. It isn't fair."

"You are super pretty, Alice, and you totally know it. You are an incredible, copper-haired glamazonian. I just barely manage 5'1" in my shoes. You cannot possibly be jealous of me, Alice."

"Well, I am, so get over it. I still love you fiercely and I will admit that I'm pretty hot. Glenn seems to think so, too."

Mary-Claire rolled her eyes. "Glenn cannot form coherent sentences for 5 minutes after you give him a kiss, Alice."

"Well it isn't just the kiss. It is what the kiss promises later."

"Oh Alice. Don't talk about that please. He is my cousin."

Merrily laughing, Alice said, "My darling prudish friend. It is unbelievably satisfying to know that you can bring a powerful, massively arrogant, hugely successful man literally to his knees."

"Alice!"

Alice laughed again. "Sillyhead."

"Poor Glenn."

"You are so cute. One day there will be a guy who is that crazy about you and you will find out how much fun it all is."

"I guess."

"Ok, change of subject. Kind of. Have you even seen any guys you wanted to ask you out?"

Looking transparently evasive, Mary-Claire stammered, "I…um…"

"Oh! Who? Where? When?"

"I don't know who he was, but he was soooo handsome. I sort of thought he was looking at me, but then he started drawing like crazy in his notebook so I don't think he was. But he was…yeah."

"More! Tell me more."

Shrugging a little dismissively, Mary-Claire replied, "I don't know. He was just really good looking, ok? What more do you want me to say?"

"Massively tall? You always like tall ones."

"Every man on the planet is tall compared to me, I think. I don't know if he was tall. Probably. He was sitting down."

Alice eagerly asked, "Artist type? Long hair and broody look?"

"No, no, no. Shortish dark blond hair. Not broody, but intense when he was drawing."

"Ok, sounds interesting. I like intense."

Mary-Claire smiled for a moment. "Blue eyes. Yeah, he was…"

"Wow. You really liked him! Well where was this? Maybe he would go back again and you'd get to meet him."

"Doubtful. It was here. I haven't seen him again."

"Here? Have you asked Melissa? She might know him."

Horrified, Mary-Claire insisted, "No and I absolutely forbid you ever doing so. I don't know a thing about the guy. He was just nice looking. He didn't ask me out and I was right there, so he could have. So that is that."

"Ok, ok. Good point. I'm glad you are actually noticing guys. Sometimes I've wondered if you are so afraid of men that you don't even look."

"I'm not dead. I notice. However, just because a man is good looking doesn't mean he is a good person. That matters 100 times more."