Skel: This is a café I used to go to when I lived in Sydney – I was tempted to do Starbucks, but everyone does Starbucks! If you live in Sydney go to Newtown and The Buzz is down a little alleyway on the main road. They serve the best coffees ever. I don't think the waiter's name is Tristan though...

Thanks for your reviews guys! they keep me going :)


Chapter Two

The Buzz café was a rare find. On one of her random walks through the city, a few days after she'd moved into her new apartment, Darcy just happened across the little alleyway on a whim. She'd been caught by a soft, radiating music which floated out from a door, and being the curious adventurer that she was, of course she'd inspected it.

As Darcy had wandered down that seemingly average alley-way all those months ago, she'd suddenly found that the door lead into a strange looking nursery or green house of some sort. Eventually she discovered it was a smoking-room, with chairs and tables scattered through the indoor forestry. Everything about it screamed "strange," which was totally Darcy's cup-of-tea. After that first night, a string of nights had begun which involved lots of drinking and lounging and café-ing, as well as many happy times spent in the smoking room out the back with all the awesome eccentrics and oddballs.

And being the hipster she was – not really - of course she frequented the place like it was her second home. Although the pretentious dicks that came in sometimes irked her, the smokers out back were cool. They were the scruffy underground of Albuquerque, rather than the flashy, artsy types. She'd even met a guy there; a tall, guitar-playing bohemian who'd had dreads – she'd always wanted to go out with a guy who had dreads – and they'd had a few sleepovers. But she'd never been one for commitment, so that had turned into nothing. Like so many of her relationships.

So now here she was, totally at home, swaggering her way in through the back door, throwing a casual wave to some of the regulars. Jane had come along a few times before, too, so she was used to it, but Steve stuck out like a red nose. He kept glancing around at the strange looking bohemians lounging about the forest, hidden behind a veil of questionable smoke, and fidgeted uneasily with his hands.

Darcy rolled her eyes. Not only did she have to put up with him, but she had to actually bring him out in public. Ugh. Not my day.

She sat down at her regular table – a two-seater in the corner beside a particularly overgrown pot of ferns – and pulled up an extra chair. A short, pimply guy wandered past, and she gestured to him.

"Hey Darc, how's it?" the waiter asked in a very mellow voice. Darcy smiled – she could be bothered to talk with these sorts of people. They were all socially awkward and spent more time in books and online than out with other humans. She smiled.

"Hey Tristan, I'm just on my coffee break. I need some serious fuel, and I think my frien-… er… colleagues could do with some too," she gestured awkwardly towards the Captain who just watched everyone nervously. Like a choir-boy at a rave. Completely out of place.

"Oh… cool," the waiter watched the new-comer warily. Darcy quirked a smile at him; "A cappuccino for the big guy, a chai latte for Janey and I'll have a double-shot Mocha with two sugars—"

"And extra chocolate," Tristan winked, Darcy grinned.

"You got it."

The waiter wandered off, leaving the three to sit in awkward silence. Steve straightened the buttons on his shirt.

"So… Steve was it?" Jane said tentatively after a few minutes of space, "why don't you tell us about yourself."

Oh come on, seriously? We're gonna make small talk now?

"Uh… well… " Steve began, still fidgeting with his buttons, "I—I was born in New York, 1917… joined the army at age 23… "Rogers bit his lip, seeming to deliberate for a moment.

"And… I was genetically mutated in a military experiment," he said cautiously.

Jane and Darcy's eyes widened. Woah… cool.

"Genetically mutated? Is that why you're a wall of meat?" Darcy asked a little too eagerly.

"Uh… yeah I guess," Rogers replied. "The serum I was injected with altered my DNA to make me into this..." he waved his hands at his chest.

"Cool," Darcy said slowly. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad. Genetically mutated experiment from World War 2 was pretty exciting.

"And so… you were around during World War Two… what was that like?" Judging by his caution, she knew better than to pry, but she was all of a sudden very curious. Could you blame a girl for loving her history? She wanted to know what Hitler was like in person.

"Uh… yeah. Well, some of it anyway," a faraway look came into Steve's eyes. Darcy wondered if she'd been a little too eager. If you'd lived through the war there was probably some stuff you didn't want to talk about.

"Oh…" she said lamely, leaving him to his little reverie. He suddenly looked like he was a billion years away. She and Jane shared an awkward glance.

Trying to look like she wasn't too socially inept, Darcy turned around to survey the room. It was pretty packed, being a Saturday afternoon and all. There were all different kinds of people here – none of them usual. In fact, her table was probably the most normal one of the lot, and she thought the three of them looked pretty strange already.

Suddenly she noticed a man sitting alone in the opposite corner of the room. Scratch that, he's definitely the most normal. He was dressed in a suit, with a black shirt unbuttoned slightly to reveal his pale white skin. He had inky black hair which fell across his face as he stared down at the newspaper in his white, skeletal hands. Darcy was taken aback – he had an imposing aura, and seemed to command a presence that none of the other eccentrics in the room could. He suddenly pulled out a cigarette and an expensive looking zippo; flicking the cigarette to life and taking a deep, long drag.

He lifted his head slightly to let the smoke escape his thin, fluid mouth and Darcy gasped. His bone structure was perfect - sharp, jutting cheekbones and a defined jawline made his face both delicate and sharp. He had a long, high nose which defined his profile perfectly, and his eyes were deep-set, low and heavy, staring apathetically out the window. As the overcast sky glimmered on his milky skin, she could see a flash of brilliant green as he glanced upwards.

And then his eyes suddenly darted towards her, stabbing her right in the chest with their intensity. She felt her heart race uncontrollably as he caught her staring with his aloof, green gaze of perfection.

Woah…

"Woah…" Darcy whispered.

"What is it, Miss Lewis? Is something the matter?" Rogers piqued somewhere behind her. She wasn't really paying attention. She was too focused on the Adonis before her.

"Whu…?" she mumbled, reluctantly turning back. Her mouth was slack, like she'd just been slapped, and she was certain there were stars and rainbows spewing out the gaping hole in her face. She couldn't believe someone that hot was sitting but a few meters away from her, in the same café, puffing on a cigarette like some French-chic God.

"Is everything alright?" Rogers asked again. Darcy just shook her head, trying to dispel certain naughty images which were now flooding her super sexually frustrated mind.

"N—no, it's nothing. Everything's fine," she sincerely hoped the sex-god hadn't noticed her creepy drooling over him. Far out, is it even legal for someone to be that attractive?

Probably not. She rubbed her eyes blearily, feeling like she'd just woken from a coma.

Suddenly the waiter came back with their coffees. Relieved that there was something to break the tension, she focused all of her attention on the chocolatey goodness before her, trying very, very hard not to think about certain others in the room.

After what felt like an hour – but in reality was only about five seconds – Darcy couldn't resist and casually turned around, pretending to check out the plants and people's wacky hairdos.

She glanced towards the corner…

Yikes!

She turned back furiously. He's staring at me! She'd been stabbed by his huge green eyes again – and they were watching her like sniper-sights. His steely demeanour and pulsating bitterness had all been injected into his stare, and she felt it horribly.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, he thinks I'm some perv. He thinks I'm a creep… he hates me, I haven't even spoken to him and he hates me!

She felt like throwing up. Or swallowing bleach. Or something self-destructive. Burying myself would be nice. Or launching myself from a canon. Or standing between a magnet shop and some knives…

Darcy was momentarily distracted from her emo-ness when she saw a flicker of black out of the corner of her eye. She turned infinitesimally to see the Greek Sculpture saunter very quickly out of the door, shrugging on his overcoat as he stopped to stand outside.

And then he looked back towards her.

Everything in her screamed to turn around, but this time she felt completely cornered. His gaze was a mixture of disbelief and sincere interest. It was like he was peering through a foggy window, trying to make her out, but at the same time completely incredulous.

She felt her lips moving, gulping in air like some dying fish, but still she could not tear her eyes away from his. A millennium of smouldering passed between them … and then some mohawked idiot stepped into her vision… the colourful obstruction walked past and then…

He was gone.

Vanished.

"What the fu—" Darcy remembered her company, "—uuuddgggeee…" she finished, glancing at the two sitting with her for the first time in what felt like eons.

"Uh, Darc? Everything okay?" Jane was the one concerned now. She could probably see the cold fear all over Darcy's features. She felt like her entire body had turned to ice. He just vanished!

"Miss Lewis?" The Cap now… but she couldn't be sure, all the voices were melting into one big cloud of noise.

"Eh… I just feel… a bit sick…" well, it was a half truth. She was also scared shitless and possibly bordering on catatonic.

Not only had she been caught perving.

But the guy she'd been perving on, simply vanished. He was there one minute, then not two seconds later… poof.

Gone.

"Jesus…" she whispered, suddenly wondering if the others had seen what she'd seen.

"Hey… did you guys… see that?" she gestured out the window to where the phantom male model had been. Jane quirked an eyebrow and the Cap just shook his head confused.

"The man …walking out the door?" Jane offered hesitantly.

"Yes, yes!" Darcy got a bit more excited. Maybe she wasn't going crazy if others had noticed him too.

"The one with the strange hair?" Steve asked.

Darcy felt her stomach drop, "No… not that one… the – the one with black hair and … really green eyes…" her voice was getting faint.

"Darc… I didn't see anyone else…" Jane was starting to get really worried now.

"Are you sure? He was sitting just over there…" Darcy gestured hesitantly to the table, but Jane just watched her even more concerned.

"Darcy… you were staring like you'd seen a ghost over there… what was it?" she gestured towards the chair. The chair. Where he had been sitting.

"That's because… the guy… he was…" she choked on her words. Jane and Steve were both looking at her very strangely. Did they seriously not see him?

"There wasn't anyone there, Darc… the seat was empty…"

What? Darcy's head suddenly felt very heavy. Weakly, she eased her forehead down onto the table, feeling the coolness of the wood beneath her temple. Ouch. Her head hurt. She wanted to curl up in bed and die. She felt horrible. She felt like death. Some seriously trippy shit was going on. They couldn't see him? Was she just overtired? Or were they not paying attention?

She definitely saw someone there. The newspaper was still on the table as proof! She felt questions start buzzing around her mind…like why had he looked at her like he wanted to kill her? And why did he look like the sort of person who wouldn't even hesitate to do so?

And that endless stare through the window… why did he look so curious? And confused? It was such an intense stare she almost felt like he could have read her mind.

A shiver tracked its way down her spine.

"I—I think we should… head back. I don't feel so good," her Mocha was doing strange things to her stomach. Ugh. Gross.

"Understood, Miss Lewis," Steve's voice was serious - he was the man with a plan. He suddenly stood, knocking the table slightly as he did so, and reached over for Darcy.

"Hang on… wait, what-?" but it was too late, Steve's enormous arms were hoisting her up to his chest and she felt a strong wave of vertigo as he swayed her into his arms, then started walking out of the shop.

Oh god, everyone's staring! "Steve! Put me down… Are you freaking kidding me?"

But he seemed to have a bad case of selective hearing. Bloody superheroes! Jane came trotting along behind them as they made their way towards the car.

"I'll drive," Jane said, swinging herself into the drivers' seat. Steve carefully placed Darcy on the backseat with ease, allowing her to lie down across the nice-smelling leather. The fight in her suddenly evaporated and she nestled herself into the fabric. Let me die, let me die. She felt like throwing up everything she'd ever eaten.

As the soft hum of the car began, and the patterns from outside flickered across her window, she shifted her head so that she could see them properly. Trees and cars and people all flashed past like some sick slide-show which churned her stomach, but she felt too exhausted to move.

And then they turned a corner …

She blinked as the window threw images at her… and then froze.

There at the lights stood a tall, slender man, with a black suit and ebony hair framing his ivory face and…

Green eyes.

She watched him with cold dread, as his eyes trained to her. He wasn't even moving… just standing there as all the people milled about him in varying colours. Completely oblivious. His ashen white face and malicious green stare stood out from the crowd.

His eyes followed her until they were around the corner and out of sight. Darcy brought her face back around slowly, trying to comprehend what she was afraid of acknowledging, and slumped down into the seat. Wrapping her arms about her knees, she dug her face into her arms, trying to erase that haunting stare from her mind.

That was when the shivering started. Violent tremors which racked her frame. She couldn't stop thinking that something was very wrong. This wasn't normal creep behaviour. This guy was …

"Evil…" she whispered. She hated to say it, but there was no other word to describe that stare. The violence and malice in his eyes… the resolute bitterness…

Yep. Definitely pure evil.