"But remember the princess who lived on the hill

Who loved you even though she knew you was wrong

And right now she just might come shining through" – Coney Island Baby, Lou Reed

The soldier's eyes snapped open; his cold assessing gaze surveyed the room. He was still in the blonde's apartment, the girl having left him alone for her own bed. Withdrawing the knife from the holster at the small of his back the soldier couldn't help but sneer. In her naivety she had assumed he was going about unarmed. Shrugging off the blanket Victoria had left for him the soldier stood up. Bare feet hit the wooden floorboards as he pushed off from the couch. Shifting the blade into his right hand the solider headed towards the hallway.

Victoria's door was slightly ajar; he could just make out her shape under the bed covers. A small groan drifted towards him as Victoria shifted in the bed, her arm swinging out from under the duvet. Inching forward the solider steeled himself, planting his weight on his right foot he winced. There was a distinctive creek as the floorboard dipped under his weight.

Biting back a curse the solider looked towards Victoria's room. The woman was still asleep, her head dipped low into her chest as she moved further into the warmth the blankets provided.

"Goddammit…" the man hissed as he attempted to get his breathing under control, beads of sweat dripping down his temples, pooling at the base of his neck.

Dropping his gaze the solider noticed the whites of his knuckles, his right arm shaking as he maintained the tight grip on the blade. Eventually his digits began to loosen, a few seconds later and his grip relaxed entirely, the weapon falling to the ground. Slumping to the floor the man's back rested against the cool plaster of the wall, his head thumping backwards.

He did not kill innocent women in their beds. He wasn't that man anymore. He wasn't a murderer.

The urge to clean up after his mistake had been overwhelming; he was falling back on the years of training that had been forced into his head. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd been sent in to ensure there were no witnesses left, no one with a scrap of information that could compromise the undertaking could remain.

It was glaringly obvious that Victoria knew too much- an intelligence leak waiting to happen.

A pretty face and a few small acts of kindness had him spilling his guts like some amateur. She was nothing to him. She wasn't a friend or family, not that he had any of those left. She was just a girl. A stranger. Victoria had no right to his history or his story, and yet he found himself sharing his fears with her.

He was honest enough to admit that he was scared, the idea that years of training and conditioning could have him flip to stone cold killer in a matter of seconds was not a comforting thought. He was a swirling mass of unchecked emotions, an exposed wound of festering doubts and corrupted memories.

He was cracked; his mind shattered and reformed so many times that all he was left with were tarnished pieces, some missing altogether. His shell like being inhabited by the ghosts of several men, there was nothing whole about him. He was merely an amalgamation of lost and stolen memories – Frankenstein's monster.

And there she was, like Heaven had chosen to deliver him from his sins by a flesh and blood angel. Victoria had crashed into him, cool hands and forgiving eyes dragging him from Perdition. His weakness had left him exposed, his vulnerability allowing her to carve a niche for herself in his chest. After years in the cold he clung to the warmth that she offered. The calm acceptance she provided him made it all too easy to forget, all too easy to open up to her.

James' nails clawed at the floorboards as he grit his teeth; he was not about to add religious psychosis to his long list of issues. Victoria was just a girl. It didn't matter if she'd offered to help him, there was too much wrong with him. He'd just tried to murder her in her bed for Christ's sake; no amount of apologizing could change what he'd tried to do. What he could do.

Staggering to his feet James stumbled back towards the living room, his blue eyes searching out the neat pile of clothes he had left on the leather armchair. Reaching for the grey tee shirt he was soon fully clothed, the door to Victoria's apartment closing firmly behind him.

The smell of coffee hit Victoria's nose first, whoever had invented the coffee machine that included a timer deserved a medal. Rolling onto her side a sheet of hair fell into her eyes, hastily pushing the locks out of her vision Victoria soon had her blonde mane tied up. Dropping from her bed to the floor she reached for her Georgetown hoodie, a hand me down from an ex boyfriend she didn't have the heart to return. Padding softly towards the bathroom she quickly turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on her face in an effort to wake up. Glancing up at the mirror her skin had taken on almost translucent quality in the cold, the remnants of yesterday's makeup still smudging the corner of eyes. Hastily rubbing her eyelids Victoria left the bathroom, her stomach growling in the anticipation of breakfast.

Stepping into the living room she sighed, even with the blinds drawn, the small amount of sunlight that managed to creep through the slats was enough to illuminate the room

The couch was noticeably empty, the apartment unbearably still.

Two weeks later

The steady rhythm of Steve Roger's bare knuckles slamming into the punching bags greeted Pepper's ears as she wandered down the metal staircase to the first of two gyms that were housed in Stark Tower. Despite the worlds media referring to the colossal building as Avengers Tower, Tony being the stubborn ass he was, never failed to remind her he was the one to build it whenever his assistant cum girlfriend cum CEO was close to dropping the A bomb.

Sighing to herself Pepper pushed open the glass door, her eyes flitting towards the figure that took up the centre of the room.

"Steve," the red head called out. "Do you have a minute?"

The heavy thwacking noise of flesh hitting leather suddenly stopped, Steve's broad shoulders stilled as he turned to face the intruder. His breathing rapidly slowing as he heart beat fell to its resting rate.

"Virginia, what can I do for you?" Steve replied, a half smile flitting across his openly handsome features.

"There's a jar upstairs – can't get into it. And you know what Tony's like, weak wrists…." Pepper half choked back a laugh before biting her lip.

"A jar?" Steve questioned as he reached for a towel, he had the good graces to keep a straight face.

"Yeah," Pepper breathed, her eyes bright as she nodded her head with an altogether startling amount of earnestness.

"Lead the way Ms Potts," Steve said. The super soldier's right hand sweeping outwards in a half circle before coming to an abrupt halt when the limb was at right angles to his body. The gesture for her to take the stairs first was duly noted and Pepper suppressed a smile as she walked past the Captain. There was something utterly arresting about Steve Rogers, and it had nothing to do with his ass.

Leading Steve towards the shared kitchen Pepper kept up a running commentary on what was currently happening with Stark Industries, Steve was as always polite, nodding where he should and asking the appropriate questions.

"Maria Hill's settling in nicely," Pepper offered the small nugget of information hoping that it would bring out more than a stock response from Steve.

"That's great!" Steve replied, the smile just about reaching his eyes.

Doing her best to ignore Steve's lack luster response Pepper pushed open the door to the kitchen, revealing Bruce, Tony, and an obscenely large cake.

"So, trust you to be born July 4th and figuring as we have that massive shindig organized later we figured we could celebrate before hand." Tony smiled as he held out a knife. "Cake?"

Rushing forward Pepper took the blade from Tony's outstretched hand, carefully setting it down on the counter before Tony could cause any damage.

"We know it's just the four of us…" Bruce began.

"Yeah, Thor's not going to be jumping out of the cake or anything." Tony interjected, his finger skimming off some of the icing before promptly transferring the sweet foodstuff to his mouth.

"Virginia…" Steve began.

"How many times Cap, it's Pepper," Tony sighed dramatically. Iron Man's finger flitting dangerously close to the icing once more, only to be intercepted by Pepper as she trapped the billionaire's hand in her own.

"I happen to like that he calls me Virginia," the red head replied primly. "Anyway, Happy Birthday Steve!"

"Happy Birthday!" The other two men echoed as Pepper pulled the blond towards the counter and the only marginally defaced cake.

"Thank you… All of you – really."

"Don't worry about it Steve," Pepper smiled. "It was our pleasure."

"We'll just count this as a cheat day." Tony grinned as he handed over a sizable chunk of cake.

Bruce sighed, "For some reason I don't think Steve has to worry about carbohydrates…"

Victoria attempted to pick discretely at her bra, somehow the underwiring had come loose, the stiff metal ripping through fabric and poking into her side. Shifting awkwardly so her left side was facing into the table and going someway to shield her right, Victoria snuck a hand under her turquoise sundress. With a surprising amount of dexterity she managed to snare the rogue piece of wiring between two fingers before pulling the whole thing out. Quickly disposing the evidence in her bag the blonde glanced down towards her chest. One was definitely sagging more….

"Victoria, we can't say how great it is that you managed to come along this weekend."

Victoria's head snapped up, a pink hue creeping into her cheeks. Coughing nervously she attempted a wide smile but she was convinced it came out as more of a grimace.

"Well Mike's crazy about Grace, Mrs. Kim." Victoria smiled haplessly, looking towards her brother for help. She wasn't the one that was supposed to be getting the third degree. Mike was the guy banging the Kims' daughter, not her.

"Gracie said the two of you hit it right off!" Mrs. Kim smiled, nodding her head encouragingly.

"Yes, of course. I'm crazy about her too. We all are!" Victoria squeaked; her eyes flicking from Mrs. Kim to Mr. Kim, the latter having remained markedly silent, and back.

Mikey rolled his eyes, "You'll have to excuse my sister. She can get a little socially awkward."

"Oh I'm sorry dear," Mrs. Kim gushed, her hand reaching out to take Victoria's in her own. "That must be so hard for you."

Victoria began to nod her head slowly, nonplussed.

Grace snorted, "He was joking Mom."

Mrs. Kim promptly dropped Victoria's hand, an awkward laugh on her breath.

"Well, like I was saying. Mike's crazy about Grace. And considering he's my twin brother, I want to get to know the people in his life." Victoria quickly smoothed over whilst her foot drove into Mike's shin under the table. Her brother suppressed a groan just as the blonde sent a saccharine smile towards him.

"Is this your first time in New York City Ms. Miller?" Mr. Kim finally spoke, his eyes drifting towards the blonde.

"Please, call me Victoria. And no, I've been out here a couple of times. Mainly work related so I've never really had a chance to check out the sites."

At this Mrs. Kim beamed. "After we finish eating we were going to head over to the park to see the fireworks. There's such a lovely view of Manhattan."

"Great," Victoria grinned.

Stuffing another fork full of food into her mouth Victoria let Mike take over the conversation. Sitting back the police officer enjoyed the fierce summer sun beating down on her as they sat around a rickety plastic table in the Kim's backyard, the smell of cooking meat drifting over from the barbecue.

Strangely it had been Grace who'd insisted Victoria join them in Brooklyn for the holiday. The blonde had been more than willing to oblige, getting out of D.C. had never seemed more desirable. It had been a couple of weeks since her run in with James Barnes and the more rational part of her brain had succeeded in bullying the rest of her into believing they had gotten away lucky. Escaped a situation that would have undoubtedly turned messy and fast. You did not adopt strangers who were clearly on the brink of a psychotic break.

But as always, there was a part of her that insisted on finding the smallest niggling doubt. Within seconds Victoria had spun it out into something that began to resemble an unhealthy obsession. She would turn the facts over in her head and pick apart her actions. And no matter what she did she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd somehow failed. There was a giant question mark hanging over James Barnes and Victoria would be lying if she didn't want to find the answers.

Obnoxiously loud music was pumping through the speakers, the jazz band from earlier that evening had long given way to the big named DJ Pepper had managed to secure. The bass beat reverberated through the room as some braver souls, not doubt spurred on by the vast amounts of alcohol they had consumed, took to the dance floor. Teardrop diamonds and Rolex watches glinting under the spotlights as limbs flailed wildly, bodies jerking to the pounding rhythm. As with any other party thrown by the billionaire, champagne was flowing freely and Tony Stark's guests mingled with each other, the social lubricant of alcohol going a long way to keep the conversation going.

Steve tugged awkwardly at his collar, trying to throw the feeling of claustrophobia. Dinner suits had never been his thing, even back in the War when a man was always seen in a hat. Ducking behind a strategically placed fake tree Steve downed a glass of champagne; Bruce had made his excuses hours earlier, disappearing into the upper levels of the tower. Steve shot a glance over his shoulder; the woman he'd been avoiding for the majority of the evening seemed to have finally got the hint.

Darting out from his corner of seclusion Steve deposited his empty glass on a tray ferried about by one of the many waiters. Giving the server a wide smile Steve made tracks, heading towards the service elevator. And thoughts of escaping Manhattan and returning to his familiar stomping grounds soon became reality.

James didn't know why he was here. Well that wasn't entirely true, it was painfully obvious why he had chosen to come to Brooklyn. This particular rooftop however, there was something vaguely familiar about the view but aside from that he had no idea why he had been drawn here. Presumably a part of his subconscious was responsible for his arrival at the relatively worn down building. But for the life of him he couldn't remember.

Using the collection of bins as a starting point James jumped for the fire escape; practically sailing up the rungs before clambering onto the roof. Settling on the edge of the building, his legs daggling into nothingness James tried to relax.

No sooner had he left Victoria behind in her apartment Barnes had headed for New York. A part of him assuming that confronting his demons head on would force him to remember.

But instead he was consumed by such a palpable sense of loss, leaving him longing for the white heat that came with his modified memories. It had been easier then. Not knowing. But now there was only a tangled mess.

With each turn and every step he took another landmark was revealed, evoking such a visceral reaction James was prone to keeling over in shock. Pulled away from the present and dragged into the past, chunks missing and with no context to help him understand James was left reeling. Each memory gained was like a squeeze to the heart, emotions pounded through his veins as he tried to make sense of the images that flashed before him. So real he was half convinced he could touch their faces, feel the smog in his lungs as he breathed in the polluted air.

His metal hand gripped a loose brick and with a brief squeeze he was left holding a handful of orange dust. Watching the powder drift away on the breeze James let loose a shuddering breath.

"Bucky?"

For a moment James didn't move, assuming that he had fallen into another memory. The usual phantom come to haunt him.

"Bucky?"

The voice sounded again. But there was a wholeness to the voice, something solid, grounded. Glancing over his right shoulder James stiffened.

Steve.

In a matter of seconds Barnes was moving. Taking a running leap he launched himself off the side of the building. Sailing through the air his arms outstretched James came to an abrupt halt, his hands grabbing onto the fire escape of the adjacent building. Grunting in pain the fire escape forcibly lowered, his body jerking against his locked arms. Dangling a foot or so above the ground James dropped to the street.

The imperative to run was blasting through his brain.

Stepping out of the convenience store just round the block from the Kims Victoria let loose a sigh. She'd snuck out for cigarettes ten minutes ago and she was now swiftly unraveling a packet of Marlborough's. The smell of tobacco hit her nose and a small shiver ran across her spine in anticipation.

Fiddling with the lighter she finally got a flame to erupt to life, quickly lighting up she took a long drag as her eyes fluttered shut, the days sun still trapped in the concrete was just enough to keep her warm. As she slowly exhaled Victoria's eyes opened lazily, she wasn't alone.

"Do you need a light?" Victoria mumbled around her cigarette, her eyes still failing to focus completely on the stranger. Still lost in her guilty act. "Hey, do you…"

Victoria's eyes widened, her whole body jumping to attention as she finally saw.

"Bucky!"

Both James and Victoria's heads snapped round at the new voice.

A/N: Sorry the ending was a little choppy... But I shall say, big things are to happen soon!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again for the reviews and follows. As always - please let me know your thoughts, feedback in the form of a review is always appreciated.