She was small yet truly only in comparison to Captain America himself.

She was covered in black from head to toe, her neck and face being the only exposed thing and even then she seemed uncomfortable with it. In the soft orange glow of the street lamp, he could see that her hair was hidden beneath a hood of some kind which, in the shadows, would have made her completely invisible to the average human.

Steve took in her form, incredibly confused as to what this woman could possibly need help with. She seemed frail, her skin pale and her eyes dark, almost as though she hadn't laughed in years or that she hadn't slept.

Steve felt a pang in his stomach of concern towards her, his humanity building.

She was picking at her gloves, an obvious sign that she was nervous as she waited patiently for his reply.

For once, Steve didn't know what to make of the situation.

"Help you?" He eventually asked, dazed by this woman's words. "How could I do that? I've never even met you."

She nodded understandingly, taking another tentative step towards him. Bree realised then that he was more a man of words than violence which caused her to settle slightly.

Just like he'd explained to her...

"I understand that but before I say anything else Mr Rogers...you have to promise me that you'll tell no one that I came to visit you." She answered smoothly, her accent indicating that she was not entirely american.

Who is this woman? Steve thought, his mind aggravated. He shifted through his memory, hoping to catch a glance of her face but he came up blank.

She was a stranger to him.

"How can I be sure that I can trust you?"

"I'm afraid you're just going to have to." She shrugged apologetically, still playing with her gloves idly. He looked at her again, his lips pursed as he decided what to do. If she really were going to hurt him, she would've done so by now...however, this could be part of her plan.

A few minutes slipped by before he decided to level with her, to take the cautious route. There had been enough destruction.

"Alright...say I did trust you...what is it that you want from me?" She smiled, slightly in relief.

"Thank you." Bree whispered. "No one can know that I was here..."

"But-"

"No one...this matter is...delicate for me as I'm sure it is for you-"

"Please, Miss-"

"Bree." She said softly, attempting to humanize herself to him. He nodded.

"Bree..." He began again. "Let's just make this simpler, okay? What exactly is this about?"

She paused, taking a deep breath in.

Could she really say his name again?

After all the years she was silent for her own safety as well as his? She didn't know whether or not she needed to keep him safe...she didn't know nor understand what had happened to him but now she had hope that she would be able to.

"It's you and me against the world..."

"It's about James..." She breathed, her heart fluttering to the mere mention of it. "Well...Bucky..."

"Bucky?" He said confused, quickly, his body straightening once more as his eyes turned to ice. "What's Bucky to you?"

She raised her hands, indicating that she meant no harm. James was right. Steve was incredibly protective of him as James was once to him but she feared that the distressed tone in Steve's voice proved that the situation was far from calm.

"I mean no danger." She replied, her voice level. "I...I just want to know what happened to him."

"What do you mean whats happened to him? How do you know him?" She smiled softly, shrugging, as she slowly brought her hands down in front of her.

"I've known him since I was twelve years old...and-" She began but stopped, staring directly at Steve as she shook her head a little. "Some things are best kept secret." She murmured more to herself, wishing to keep some of her past locked away and to hold onto that thread of James that belonged to her.

"What do you know about him now?"

"All I know is that he's out there, somewhere...lost but I don't understand what's going on or why...I need to see him."

"I'm sorry." Steve answered, turning away from her. "I don't know where he is...I can't help you."

"But you are looking for him?" She breathed, taking three wide steps towards him. "Maybe we could find him together?"

"No can do Miss...I still don't know who you are and I trust no-one when it comes to him."

"I understand that-"

"And there is certainly no reason to put yourself in harms way. Whatever he's linked to now, it's dangerous." He began to ramble, his words trying to deter her from the matter at hand. She refused to give up so easily.

She'd waited forty years to see him again and she wasn't going to allow Steve to throw her aside as though she meant nothing to James.

At one point, they were each others worlds...He was still hers.

"He always spoke fondly of you." She argued, trying to hold onto Steve's interest. "He said that you were a good man...a caring man. A man that would understand-"

"That doesn't exactly tell me that you know Bucky." Steve sighed again, looking down at the floor. He almost felt sorry for this girl but as he claimed, he was not going to give every piece of inforamtion he had about Bucky to a stranger. That would simply be idiotic.

Who knows what she could do with it.

She could be working for them.

"You were in the army together and-"

"You got that from the museum." Steve argued as he looked up at her. She stared at him, her brow furrowed.

"Museum?" She paused. There was silence between them.

"I- just...Never mind-"

"He spoke about Coney Island..." She began again, placing her hands in front of her in desperation. "...about how he tried to set up date a for you and Mary Lancaster-"

"What?" Steve said warily, slowly facing her once more. "How do you know about that?"

"That is just one of the many things that he's told me. He loves you very much Steve."

"I don't understand- Bucky's been trapped in his own mind for over seventy years...how-"

"I'm older than I look Mr Rogers." she replied simply. Steve continued to stare at her. She didn't look any older than twenty three years old.

"So how-"

"Like I said...somethings are best kept a secret...for now." She took another steo closer to him, so she was mere inches from his own being. She reached out and touched his arm softy. "Please...you must believe me. I mean him no harm...I love him."

"Love him?"

She nodded slowly.

"He showed me compassion when there was none...yes, I encountered the Winter Soldier but I fell in love with Bucky." Her grip tightened on his arm slightly as she felt her lungs give way. All the memories of him were rushing back to her, almost as though she were being hit by a train. His smile, his bright, calculating, beautiful eyes that she used to get lost in to which felt like forever. His arms and the strong grip they used to have around her. The snow that surrounded them in their absence from reality...

"I'll never let them hurt you ever again..." He whispered as he stroked her face, using the back of his knuckles, softly, delicately, showing her how much he treasured her. "I will always protect you. I'll die before I'll let anything happen to you."

He meant everything to her.

She loved him.

"He told me about Brooklyn, about how you grew up with one another. He spoke of your dreams and ambitions...he loved your mother dearly."

"I'm sorry..." Steve began but Bree cut him off once more.

"He told me about about how you use to play 'soldier' with one another and that you were told off by your mother once for breaking her favourite vase-"

"Bree." He replied, gripping onto her upper arms.

"Please..." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "From one human being to another, I am begging you to let me help."

"It would be too dangerous-"

"I'm stronger than I look."

"I don't know where he is."

"I can help! I could be of great use to you."

She really wasn't backing down.

"I love him." She repeated, holding her stare. Steve sighed, looking down at the floor, trying to gather his thoughts before he stared at her again.

"You really love him...don't you?" Steve whispered sympathetically as he looked into her eyes. She was broken, he could see it. The memory of Bucky itself was breaking her.

How much did she know of his state of mind? Of what they'd done to him?

How and where did she meet him?

How did she know about his mother's vase?

Bucky was the only other person there to have known.

"Alright." He sighed. "If I let you help me, you're gonna have to give me some answers." She slowly brought her gaze to his, almost in astonishment that he'd agreed.

"All in good time."


A/N

Thank you so much for the reviews already! I appreciate it. As well as the follows/favourtie...I mean it, thank you!

I'm thinking maybe a flash back next chapter? Who knows! We'll see!

Thanks again!