"Nice form, Vivian!"

Vivian only grunted in acknowledgement of Walt's praise from across the gym, continuing to pound at the padded fists that were positioned in front of her face.

Walt was the owner of Bucky's gym, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a soft belly—not really someone she expected to handle boxers every day. But he was tolerant enough of her and had a decent sense of humor, so Vivian couldn't complain.

He had, admittedly, been resistant to allowing her to actually train at the gym. Bucky had been the one to give her access to the gym after hours when she had wanted to train previously, but after her encounter with Emma Frost, Vivian realized that she needed to train more than the sparse hours when the gym was empty. But when she had turned up at the gym three weeks ago, Walt had originally laughed and informed her that his gym was no place for a "lady." However, a closer look at her abused face and an offhand comment about being a friend of Bucky's had convinced him to allow her to come in and workout for that day at least.

That had been all it took to get her a more permanent status at the gym. Vivian had been prepared to have to persuade him to let her stay, but it had been unnecessary after he saw that she had more training than many of his younger boxers did already. So she came to the gym every afternoon and ran and practiced throwing punches as much as her still-healing ribs would allow. She stayed clear of the weights that a majority of the men hung around, and for the most part they had gotten used to her presence in their gym.

She, of course, sill sporadically heard many thoughts and, more frequently, whispers about how strange it was for a woman to want to spend time at a gym. At first, the speculation had been that she was trying to catch someone's attention, albeit in a very unconventional way. But she didn't show up "dolled up" or really even dressed remotely attractively—she wore loose fitting gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt that did little for her figure. Both were Bucky's, chosen because they were much more accommodating than Steve's that were too tight in many areas, but she hoped he never found out that she had taken to wearing his clothes—she would never hear the end of it.

This strange behavior combined with the fact that she rarely spoke with any of them unless approached, assured the boys that she was not actually fishing for a husband. So they were left to wonder as to what exactly the odd redheaded woman who kept to herself-and seemed liable to knock out anyone who questioned her-was doing at Walt's gym. For the most part, they left her alone and barely registered her presence after nearly a month of this conundrum.

"Still here, Ginger?"

For the most part…

Vivian sighed heavily and shook her head before stepping away from her partner. "Jordy, nice to see you as always. Can I help you?"

Jordy sneered at her in what was clearly supposed to be a display of intimidation, and said, "You can help me by getting outta my gym and finding a better way to spend your time. Like embroidery or cooking or whatever it is you women do."

His intimidation tactics were probably effective against many of its recipients, considering his large stature, rippling muscles, dark, beady eyes that reminded Vivian vaguely of a shark, and his buzz-cut blonde hair. Vivian, however, was not swayed by his intense glare and haughty derision. She had experienced worse and had no intentions of giving in to a man who objected to her presence in "his gym" solely because of her gender. So she smiled prettily, as she knew Jordy thought all girls should, and told him, "You can go fuck yourself."

When Jordy narrowed his eyes and started to close the meager three-foot distance between them, Collin, the man she had previously been punching, stepped forward, gloved hands raised. "C'mon Jordy. Just leave her alone. She ain't hurtin' nobody."

Jordy snorted. "Of course she's not. That's why a little missy like her has no business in a gym like this. We're here to train to hurt people—not passing the time playing around, trying to be one of the boys."

Vivian wasn't particularly bothered by Jordy's viewpoint on women, primarily because she knew her value, and the patriarchal beliefs of this time period were the least of her concerns. However, she certainly wasn't going to pass up the chance to put a misogynist in his place when the opportunity had so wonderfully presented itself.

"Tell you what, Jordy," she said, impish grin sliding across her face as she leaned closer to him in an attempt at intimidation. It, of course, had no effect on the gargantuan in front of her. "If I am able to land a single, pain-inducing hit on you, I can stay. If you turn out to be as superior as you claim and I can't, I'll leave. How does that sound?"

"Oh, Vivian," Collin chimed in again, looking at her with immense pity. "You don't have to do that. He doesn't have the authority to kick ya out."

Vivian didn't bother responding as she extended a hand out to Jordy, maintaining eye contact solely because she knew it bothered him. It also allowed her to notice the slight tick in his jaw as he glared back at her, and she knew seconds before he answered what he would say.

"Fine," he grunted, reaching for her hand, and though he gripped it much tighter than necessary, he pumped it only once before releasing her. "But don't think that just because you're a girl, I'll let you win. If you want a fight, I'll give you a fight. Don't worry though," he continued as he walked over to the ring situated in the center of the gym. "I won't fight back—just block ya. Don't want to hurt your pretty little face too badly."

He sniggered as he held the ropes down for her to climb up into the right, smirking at her as though he was certain he would have no problem avoiding any attacks without doling out any of his own. She knew he really didn't want to hurt her—just wanted to protect the "sanctity" of his precious gym—but she had really had a rough couple of weeks and a good fight was just what she needed. Not to mention the irritation that his constant provoking jabs at her caused. So, she only smirked and said, "Don't bother holding back on my account," before grabbing the top rope and swinging up into the ring.

Jordy was quick to follow her, not even giving her a second look as they approached opposite corners of the ring.

Walt was waiting for her, a frown etched on his aging face. "Kid, I think you're making a mistake."

Vivian smiled. She had been making a lot of mistakes recently, but this wasn't one of them. She may not be able to properly defend herself against a thirteen-year-old mutant, but she could show a group of 1940s finest men that women were perfectly capable of defending themselves. She supposed that's what this entire challenge was about—she may have been failing in several aspects of her mission, but she could still teach some men a lesson about respecting women. She needed to regain her confidence in herself and in her mission, and as misguided as it is, kicking Jordy's obnoxious ass was just the ticket.

"I get that a lot."

She turned from the concerned gym owner and met Jordy in the middle. She was used to the way men watched women when they thought nothing would happen to them for it, so Jordy's near-black eyes tracking her every movement as she joined him did little to deter her. It did, however, prompt her to take a dip into his mind to ensure that no nefarious ulterior motives to this fight lurked around.

She was relieved to find that not only did Jordy solely want to "teach her a lesson" in the form of an ass-kicking (though not too rough, of course—he couldn't be known as the guy who had beat up a lady), he didn't even find her particularly attractive.

Too tall.

Too lanky.

My god, those freckles.

Vivian grit her teeth and attempted a pleasant smile. The days of men's unwanted unflattering thoughts bothering her had long passed, but that didn't mean she wouldn't hit him extra hard because of it.

"Jordy," she began.

He nodded. "Ginger."

Her eye twitched. He was definitely asking for her to humiliate him in front of his friends.

"Now, we both know that I can't beat you in a boxing match."

Jordy barked out an incredulous laugh and shook his head. "They why are we here?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Not all fights involve punching each other until one of us passes out. I'm proposing a straight fight—no rules, no limitations."

He sobered rather quickly at her suggestion, his eyes narrowing at her in disbelief. "So not only do you want me to fight you, you want me to do it without any limits?"

Vivian only hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I'm just suggesting a fight where everything is fair game—unless, of course, you're worried that will give me an unfair advantage."

Jordy's sharply-defined jaw clenched and his lip lifted into the beginnings of a snarl. Vivian had to repress a smile. The age-old "unless you're scared" line always worked on testosterone fueled males with too-large egos.

"Fine, Ginger, but remember—you asked for it." He gestured to Walt, indicating that they were ready to begin, before raising his fists into his standard boxing stance.

Predictable.

"Of course," she replied, immediately following the statement up with a right hook to the jaw when Walt rang the bell.

Jordy laughed at her brazen move, easily catching her much-smaller fist and holding her steady. It was an easy move to anticipate, but Jordy was an equally easy opponent to predict. Vivian had the advantage of never fighting anyone in this gym before, making any of her moves fairly unpredictable. Jordy was under the impression that she was untrained and unskilled, relying solely on the boxing matches that she had seen in his gym to guide her. She was only too happy to prove him wrong.

As Jordy yanked on her still-captured hand in an attempt to restrain her further, Vivian stepped forward and spun on her left foot, bringing herself close enough to Jordy to drive her elbow into his heavily toned stomach.

Jordy reeled back, sputtering in surprise and hopefully just a bit of pain, releasing her hand as he did.

He looked up at her through narrowed eyes, but upon seeing the mocking quirk of her brow and barely restrained smirk, he grinned at her. "You caught me off guard, doll, I'll give you that. It's good to see that you've got the fiery spirit to match your hair, but it won't do ya much when you're this outmatched."

Vivian scoffed. Jordy was clearly trying to save face, but she wasn't interested in helping him out.

She waited patiently for him to make his next move, knowing from watching past matches that Jordy wasn't the patient sort. He proved her right only a moment later when he lumbered forward almost cautiously.

She knew that as much as Jordy couldn't stand for her to challenge him in his own turf without retribution, he didn't want to actually hurt her, limiting him to purely defensive moves if he wanted to spare himself from having a reputation as a woman-beater.

Vivian did not actually have an issue with helping him on that front at least.

As soon as Jordy stepped within arms-length of her, Vivian shot forward, ducking under his raised arm and twirling back around to kick the back of his knee. As he crumpled onto his right knee, Vivian stepped back, giving him time to right himself.

As much as she loved taking cheap shots whenever life gave them to her, they would do her no favors with this crowd.

Jordy got back to his feet as soon as he regained his balance, and turned to face her. She didn't need to be a telepath to know that he was both surprised and infuriated because of her ability to get the upper hand twice now. It was clearly painted on his face and in the way that he was now stalking towards her, past reservations about fighting a girl mostly forgotten.

When he came at her again, he reached forward with an open hand, attempting to grab her shoulder so he could pull her close enough to restrain her again, effectively ending the fight as there was no way she could break out of his hold if he was able to pin her well enough. So, in an effort to avoid this, Vivian made her first purely offensive and straight-forward move—she drew back her clenched fist and hit him squarely in his face.

This clearly caught him off guard, as evidenced by his shocked expression and the way he stumbled back from her. Vivian knew it had to hurt due to the sting of her own hand, but she also knew that it was nothing compared to the blows he was used to taking from men twice her size.

Still, it had the desired effect—it had caught him off guard and pissed him off enough to forego any more efforts at merely restraining her. He swung at her with his right fist, aiming away from her face to minimize visible damage. Nevertheless, she dodged to the left, grabbed his still swinging arm by the bicep with her left hand and grabbed his shoulder with her right, being sure to dig her nails into the muscle to remind him of who he was fighting, and swiftly brought her knee up into his abdomen.

Jordy crumpled forward from the force, and when he tried to pull away from her, Vivian twisted out of the way of his grabbing left hand, yanking his still-trapped right arm back with her. She hit the back of his knee again as she moved behind him and twisted his arm up behind his back, causing him to let out a surprised yelp of pain. As he fell to his knees once more, Vivian moved with him, bringing her knee up to the small of his back and using his momentum to send them both fully to the ground with Vivian on top.

There was total silence in the gym as Vivian tried to catch her breath while still using all of her weight to keep Jordy pinned to the ground. He wasn't resisting much, however, seeming to have accepted his fate. Either that, or he was too shocked that she had managed to knock him down to move.

"Well," Vivian panted, not bothering to hide her grin any longer. "How's was that for a woman?"

Her question broke the silence, and someone from the crowd let out a resounding whoop before beginning to clap. The rest of the onlookers quickly followed suit.

Jordy grunted and moved slightly in her grasp, prompting Vivian to let go of him and stand up, readying herself for the tirade that was sure to follow.

The blonde behemoth rolled over onto his back and studied her for a moment before suddenly letting out a gasping, somehow still booming, laugh. The redhead reeled back in surprise.

"Well," he said, rising easily to his feet, apparently unbothered by his injuries, both physical and reputational, "I guess you aren't as helpless as I thought."

He clapped a hand to her shoulder as he passed her, but left the ring without another word. Vivian turned to follow him with her eyes, but lost sight of him as he disappeared into the locker room, followed by his friends, no doubt giving him a hard time about the fight.

Vivian's grin broadened. That had actually gone much better than expected, and it had successfully lifted her spirits.

The clock situated above the exit caught her attention at that moment and she cursed. Steve would be waiting for her at the diner, just as they had agreed earlier that day. Vivian rushed to exit the ring, clambering ungracefully over the ropes and dropping down amid several congratulations that she tried her best to politely acknowledge as she dashed towards the exit.

"Sorry I'm late!" Vivian huffed as she plopped into the booth opposite Steve, sending him an apologetic smile. Or at least, she attempted to. She wasn't really sure how convincing it was considering the obnoxious wheezing sound she made with each breath she took.

Steve frowned at her, further signifying her attempts at a carefree apology were not as successful as she had hoped. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, waving him off. "I was just running a bit late and had to run to get here."

Steve reached out and caught her hand before she could lower it back down. He inspected it for only a moment while Vivian could only manage to stare at him in bewilderment before raising a brow and holding her own hand out to her as though it were evidence. "Just running late, huh?"

Vivian winced when she caught sight of the already bruised flesh of her knuckles. "Something like that," she said, withdrawing her hand.

Their waitress, thankfully not the nosy redhead this time, choose this moment to come take their orders. Vivian's relief was short-lived, however, when Steve immediately brought the conversation back to her when she left.

"What happened?"

The concern in his voice was palpable, and Vivian had to smile in response. Steve had a way of making his concern feel like protection, even when he was five feet tall and asthmatic, and that was a comfort Vivian desperately needed thanks to the past few weeks. "It's just from the gym. You know I've been going there since, well… you know."

Steve relaxed at her explanation, but the relief on his face was quickly overshadowed by his exasperation. "You're still healing, Viv. You shouldn't be roughing guys up at the gym."

She let out a wheezing laugh. "Me? Roughing guys up? I would never," she said, winking at her blonde friend conspiratorially. Steve, however, didn't seem to share her humor on the subject and remained quiet and continued to stare at her in disappointment.

Vivian sighed. If Steve's concern could make you feel warm and cozy, his disappointment had the ability to make you feel worthless. "It's nothing, Steve. I'm fine."

"Oh? How's your ribs then?"

Vivian tried to hide her grimace at the mention of her still-healing fractured ribs. They were, in fact, twinging rather painfully at the moment. She had done a good job of taking it easy to help them heal until today, and she hadn't noticed the pain until the adrenaline form the fight had worn off. But now they seemed to be pulsing with pain in time with her heartbeat, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath or stop making that god awful wheezing sound. "Touché."

Steve sighed and dropped his head to his arms that were resting against the table. "Vivian."

"Yes?" she asked, sipping at her water carefully.

Steve's head tilted back just enough for his eyes to peer up at her from the table. "Why are you doing this?"

Vivian managed to contain the laugh that wanted to escape at his defeated expression and exasperated question, muffled by his arms, but she could still feel the uncontrollable twitching of her lips as she nonchalantly replied, "Doing what?"

Steve's eyes narrowed and he raised his head fully, probably to give his glare the maximum level of severity. It wasn't as effective as she was sure he hoped. "You know what. First, you get attacked under mysterious circumstances that you won't disclose. And now," he continued with a stern look when Vivian opened her mouth to protest, "you're going to the gym, full of guys with loose morals, to presumably train to fight more mysterious criminals."

"The guys at the gym aren't all bad, Steve," said Vivian, with a roll of her eyes. "Besides, isn't your best friend a member of said gym?"

Steve threw his hands up wildly. "That's not the point and you know it!"

Vivian's mood sobered and she nodded seriously, leaning forward and looking directly into Steve's fierce blue eyes. Said blue eyes narrowed in response to her sudden shift in demeanor, preparing for her response.

"You're right, Steve. The point is that you don't like that I put myself in danger and got my ass kicked because of it. And you're worried because you think that I keep putting myself in danger because I won't stop until the job that I came to do is over."

Steve nodded slowly, suspicious that the usually argumentative redhead was agreeing with him. Vivian's lips quirked in response. Steve definitely had good instincts, even before he had the muscle to back them. She knew that aligning herself with Captain America was a risky move in her situation, but she couldn't seem to regret it when it gave her the opportunity to befriend and make an ally of one of the most compassionate and shrewd men she'd ever met. And she knew that if she were actually able to safely tell him about her mission, he would do whatever it took to help her, because she was his friend and he would always stand by his friends.

But she still had a point to make, and she wasn't going to let fierce, pint-sized Steve distract her from that. "Sound familiar, Steve Rogers, Brooklyn's resident moral-driven punching bag?"

Steve's eyes widened in understanding before immediately narrowing again. "That's different, Viv."

Vivian cocked her head at him in challenge. "Oh? Why?"

Steve blinked at her owlishly, struggling to come up with an answer. Vivian couldn't help but smile at him—it certainly wasn't his fault that he was raised in an era when women simply didn't do what she did, but at least he had the good grace to not outright say it to her face.

So she said it for him.

"Because I'm a women? Or because dealing with mu—people like the one who attached me is part of my job, not just a self-righteous hobby?"

"I—I'm not self-righteous!"

Vivian cocked her head to the side and gave Steve a look. "Not the point, Steve."

"Here you go!" Steve and Vivian both jumped as their waitress arrived with their meals. She had almost forgotten they were actually there to eat. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Neither of them touched their food.

"Look, Vivian," Steve said, massaging his forehead as though their entire conversation had left him with a massive headache. "I didn't mean that you aren't… capable. You're clearly more able to protect yourself than I am. But you're still my friend. And I'm still going to worry about you. So, if you could please keep the physical injuries to a minimum, I would greatly appreciate it."

Vivian smiled at him and picked up her fork, preparing to actually start eating. "I'll try my best as long as you do. Deal?"

Steve returned her smile. "Deal."

Another five days had passed, and though Vivian was still training at the gym full of "questionable men" every day, she had headed Steve's request and taken it easier, focusing more on building strength. She already had a lot of basic knowledge about self-defense thanks to living with the X-Men for nearly half her life, but if she was going to be facing adversaries with the ability to block her telepathy (not to mention she really wasn't supposed to be using said telepathy on anyone in this time period unless strictly necessary anyway), she would really need to make some major improvements.

Unfortunately, however, Walt's gym was not where she was currently. No, at that moment, Vivian was undergoing an entirely different workout.

"Shit, shit, shit," the mutant chanted, attempting to regain her balance. She breathed a sigh of relief when the mop bucket stopped teetering on the dinning room chair that it was currently stacked upon. She brought her focus back up to the ceiling and promptly cursed again when a drop of water splattered on her forehead.

The repairs to the ceiling were not going as well as Vivian had hoped. It had started leaking the night before, and Steve had promised to help her patch it up after his class that afternoon.

Vivian had intended to have the ceiling fixed before he returned, as a sort of surprise and thank-you for all that he had done for her since she moved in with them. However, after about forty-five minutes of wobbling on top of the chair, she now had very sore arms, shaking legs, an ungodly amount of paste and water splattered on her body, and the understanding that she really had no idea how to properly fix a leaky ceiling, she knew that she should have waited for Steve after all.

She had just resigned herself to the fact that fixing the leak would have to wait when she heard the door open and shut behind her.

"Oh, Steve! Thank God you're back early," she said with immense relief, not bothering to look behind her as she attempted to carefully climb off her perch. "It turns out that I have no idea what I'm—ah."

Vivian gasped in mixed surprise and fear as gravity finally caught up with her and she fell backwards off the rickety chair, along with the bucket that had leaned too to the side. She had closed her eyes and braced for impact, cursing her stupidity all the while, when she came into contact with not the floor, but a solid chest and firm arms that gripped her tightly against aforementioned solid and deliciously warm chest.

Vivian, realizing that it was not Steve who had entered the apartment after all, gasped again and opened her eyes, gaping up at her apparent savior.

Her eyes immediately collided with the cerulean blue ones that she had been deprived of for over a month now, and she smiled breathlessly up at Bucky, who was looking down at her with a strange mixture of happiness and worry.

"Nice catch," she wheezed, because it was the only thing she could think to say and he was still staring at her soundlessly. She tried not to focus on the way that he was holding her—his arms curled protectively around her body, one supporting her legs and the other cradling her back, and she was pressed close enough to him to feel his warmth and every breath he took. It was also exceedingly uncomfortable given her mostly-healed, but still tender ribs. But Vivian was not going to complain and risk Bucky putting her down.

She was also not going to examine that thought any further.

It seemed that she didn't have to anyway, as whatever spell had come over Bucky to leave him silent broke at her words. "Well, it's certainly not the welcome I was expecting, but I'll take it."

He was smiling at her then, and Vivian couldn't breathe for an entirely different reason now. She had hoped that some time and distance, not to mention a serious encounter that left her with no doubts as to how serious her mission was, would relieve her of whatever delusions she held about James Buchanan Barnes. But all this time, and the stupid, gorgeous man could still undo her with a simple smile and a flash of his blue eyes.

Not that she would ever let him know that. And neither was she tempted to delve into his mind to see if she affected him the same way. That was a question she did not need answered, and regardless of whatever (completely hormone-induced) feelings Vivian had for the future Winter Soldier, she could not become any more involved with him than she already was.

Which is kind of hard to do when she lived in his apartment and was currently being held in his very muscular, drool-worthy arms.

Vivian cleared her throat and began to squirm in Bucky's hold. Her current predicament was not helping her overall predicament at all, and Bucky, blessedly mistaking her look of discomfort as pain, gently lowered her to the ground.

Once she was settled, she looked back up at him with the same smile that seemed to be refusing to leave her face. "You're back."

Bucky's own smile turned gentle and he said, "I'm back."

"I thought you weren't supposed to come home until tomorrow?" Her senses finally returned to her after her near-fall and swoon-worthy catch, and she took a step back in an effort to put some much needed space between them.

Bucky shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I wanted to surprise you."

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Of course you did. I'm not sure how fond I am of surprises after the past few weeks, but at least this is a pleasant one," she teased.

Bucky tensed, his reaction as visible as it was unexpected—his soft smile and laughing eyes turned into an uncertain frown and a stern gaze. Vivian didn't recall him being so sensitive to banter before… maybe boot camp really did change a guy?

"Yeah," he said, reaching a hand up to run a hand through his hair, like he tended to do when he was uncomfortable—which was rare. He also seemed to be unable to meet her eyes. "I heard about that."

Ah. So it wasn't boot camp then.

Vivian's frown matched his and she was suddenly uncomfortable as well. "Steve?" she asked, though it was unnecessary. Who else could have told him?

Bucky nodded in the affirmative anyway. "How are you?"

An odd question, all things considered, and it surprised her enough to make her smile. "I'm fine. How are you?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, but didn't return her smile. "Well I just got back from boot camp, so about as good as you expect."

Vivian wasn't smiling anymore.

"Listen, Viv…" Bucky said, tugging on his hair once more but finally meeting her eyes. "You know that you can talk to me about… what's going on with you, right?"

Vivian raised an eyebrow. "What's going on with me?"

"Yes," Bucky sighed. "Whatever it is that you're mixed up in. You can talk to me. Or Steve. You know we'd both do whatever we could—"

"I know, Bucky," she said, taking a cautious step forward. "It's not what you think—"

"That's the thing, Vivian," Bucky interrupted her this time, punctuated by his hands being thrown up in frustration. "I don't know what's going on. I don't know a thing about you."

Vivian hugged herself tightly and began to worry her lip between her teeth, suddenly extremely self-conscious. She did not like where this conversation was going but she was ultimately unable to truly refute Bucky's statement. He and Steve really did have no idea who she really was—a telepath from the future sent to save mutants from discovery. Still, she wanted to think that they knew her well enough by now—who she really was, underneath her mutation and her feigned confidence—to mean something.

So she found herself muttering, barely audible in the silence of her borrowed apartment, "That's not true."

All it took was one sentence, likely taken more seriously than he meant it, and Vivian was once again her fourteen-year-old self, a friendless freak who lied to everyone so that they would still like her, but cursed with the knowledge that they didn't anyway. So though it was a major invasion of his privacy, and something Vivian had promised herself she wouldn't do unless absolutely necessary, she did what she would have done then, what she was born to do—she raised her head, stared directly into his conflicted blue eyes, and read Bucky's mind.

She was greeted by flashes of his memories—all of them featuring her in some way:

The first time they met, where Bucky saw her staring down a drunken idiot with all the fire and daring of a soldier. She was a fighter.

She was smiling up at him in gratitude, all bruises and wet skin and happiness, and she was agreeing to stay with them. She was resilient.

She, Bucky, and Steve were gathered around the kitchen table, happily munching on bacon and swapping stories about their terrible neighbor. She was funny.

She and Bucky were dancing, and he was looking at her in a way she hadn't noticed at the time—he watched her movements carefully, memorizing the way her dress twirled around her slender, freckle-splattered legs and the way she smiled up at him in breathless elation before continuing their banter. She kept up with him, mentally and physically, in a way no girl before her had.

She was yelling at him now, with the barest hint of angry tears in her storm cloud eyes, as she defended herself. She wouldn't take his shit. She cared about Steve, almost as much as he did.

He was staring down at the picture she had sent him, the one he had just rescued from his no-good friends. The one he wanted to burn into his memory so he wouldn't forget the way that she looked while he was off fighting a war. She was absolutely beau—

Vivian ripped herself from his thoughts, her cheeks tinting a horrific shade of red. She had just wanted to see what he thought, if he truly didn't trust her. She had gotten much more than she had bargained for, and she knew that no matter what she told herself now, she would never be able to let Bucky Barnes go the way she should.

No man had ever looked at her like that, thought about her like that. It was unsettling, but it also caused her heart to swell in ways she thought she was immune to.

"I guess you're right. I do know you, which is what makes this as hard as it is for me to sit back and watch."

Vivian jolted, forgetting that she was actually waiting for a verbal answer from Bucky. Though what he said just confused her further. "What do you mean?"

Bucky did the hair-tug thing again, and if this conversation weren't so serious, Vivian might have noticed how attractive it was. "I… I care about you Vivian. It's not like Steve and I just take in strange girls all the time, and while I do know you, who you are as a person, we have little to no idea of what you're doing here or why you keep running in to trouble."

Vivian's lips quirked up minutely. "You think I'm strange?"

This time, Bucky did smile, though it was accompanied by an exasperated sigh. "You do that a lot you know. Avoid questions."

Vivian shrugged helplessly, struggling to find an answer that wouldn't make this worse. "Trouble just has a tendency of finding me, Bucky." When he just raised an eyebrow in response, she hurried to try again. "I can't give you any details—it's the nature of my… job. But I can tell you that I'm here for a reason and that it's very important. And that I would tell you everything if I could."

Not the most eloquent or satisfying of answers, but Bucky seemed to be thinking it over nonetheless. When a few more seconds went by in tense silence, the resigned mutant heaved a deep breath and focused on a particularly interesting section of the carpet. "Look… if it makes you uncomfortable, and you don't want me staying here and being around Steve anymore… I get it. I can be out in ten minutes."

"What?" Bucky said, and Vivian snapped her head up to see the bewildered look on his face as he took two large steps to rest directly in front of her. "What are you talking about? That's not what this is about at all!"

Gray eyes blinked up at him in confusion. "It's not?"

"No!" Bucky reached out to grip her shoulders, but seemed to think better of it when she winced at his tight grip. He instead slid his hands down to rub lightly, comfortingly on her arms. If she was shocked at his reaction before, his gentle handling of her now left her in a state of awe. "It's just that I—that is, Steve and I—really care about you. That means we want you to be safe, and it kind of rubs me wrong when you come home looking like you went a round at the gym."

If only he knew, Vivian thought.

"I want you to stay, Vivian," Bucky continued, inclining his head down far enough to make sure she was holding eye contact. "I just want you to be okay, and I can't make sure that you are when I don't know why you're in whatever trouble you've gotten yourself in, y'know?"

Vivian chanced a weak smile. "I don't think you're supposed to care that much about strange women, Buck."

Bucky froze, his hands tightening on her elbows and his eyes blinking down at her in some state of confusion or shock, she wasn't sure which. But the moment lasted only a second, he was giving her his Bucky Barnes smirk again so quickly Vivian was almost certain she had imagined it all.

"Yeah," he said, his grip on her arms gentling once more, "I think you're right about that."

"For what it's worth," Vivian said, "I care about you and Steve too."

Bucky opened his mouth, surely about to say something about caring about strange men, when his fellow strange man burst through the door.

"Bucky!" Steve exclaimed, wheezing uncomfortably. "I heard you were back! I thought you weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow?"

Bucky gave Vivian one last meaningful look before turning to face his best friend. "I guess good news travels fast, huh?"

Steve didn't seem to register the response though, as he had just noticed that Vivian was in the room and he was too busy fixating on the way Bucky was still holding onto her right arm. "Am… I interrupting something?"

"No," Vivian said, blushing despite her best efforts again, and gently extracted her arm from Bucky's grip. "So," she said, "how would you gentlemen like to celebrate Bucky's return?"

The change in subject seemed to work. Steve shot Bucky a coy smile. "Let me guess. Dancing? Drinking? Dames?"

Vivian rolled her eyes, relieved the attention was off of her but annoyed by this new direction in topic. "Why not all of the above?"

Bucky's smile turned sly as he turned his head to the side to face Vivian, almost as though he knew what she was thinking. "Or none of the above. I was thinking more along the lines of taking my best pal and my best girl to see a movie and then coming back here for dinner. You're not the best cook Vivian," Bucky teased with a wink, "but anything is better than the slop they serve at boot camp."

Vivian ignored the dig and made eye contact with Steve across the room. They had identical expressions of surprise and they turned to face Bucky to ask, in unison, "Really?"

"Yeah," Bucky said, trying to shrug it off as he made his way to the couch where he had dropped his duffle bag in his haste to catch Vivian. "Why wouldn't I?"

Vivian and Steve exchanged the look again, but chose not to question it further. "Okay then…" Vivian said, still looking at Bucky warily. "I'll just go get ready then."

She avoided eye contact as she passed Bucky and Steve on her way to Bucky's room. And though she pretended that she didn't hear Steve whisper, "Best girl, huh?" to Bucky as they made their way to Steve's room, she couldn't keep the grin off of her face or stop her heart from pounding in rhythm with her restless thoughts about a certain blue-eyed soldier.

"I can't believe you cried! It's not even supposed to be a sad movie!" Bucky crowed, slinging his arm around Vivian's shoulders as they exited the theater.

They had just finished their screening of Casablanca, a movie that, though a classic in her time, Vivian had not seen yet, much to Bucky and Steve's surprise. And now she was being teased ruthlessly.

"Oh, come on, Buck," Steve jumped in from Bucky's other side. "We both know you teared up the first time you saw it."

"I did not," Bucky refuted indignantly, turning to glare at his best friend.

Steve, however, ignored him, shooting Vivian a wink behind his back. "Yes, he did."

Vivian giggled, prompting Bucky to amp up his defense. "I had a cold Steve! You know that!"

In an effort to prevent anymore mindless banter between the two "men," Vivian interjected, "I know it's not supposed to really be sad, but the fact that he sacrificed his happiness for hers was just…" She trailed off with a helpless shrug, unsure of how to continue.

The boys seemed to understand though, if Bucky's appraising side-eye was anything to go by. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point. It's still pretty—"

"Well, if it isn't Bucky Barnes!"

Vivian barely restrained a groan as they turned to face the man who had just shouted at them from down the street. She definitely knew that voice.

Bucky smiled as he caught sight of his fellow gym rat, though Vivian noted it was more strained than his usual smiles. "Jordy!" he called, waiting for the older man to catch up with them, Vivian still under his arm on one side and Steve standing on his other.

Vivian and Steve made brief eye contact before simultaneously rolling their eyes. It seemed that Steve was familiar with Jordy as well.

Bucky and Jordy shook hands before Bucky proceeded to politely introduce Vivian. "Jordy, this is my friend, Vivian. Vivian, this is—"

"Well I'll be damned!" Jordy exclaimed, having just noticed Vivian's presence. "It's you! Well, that makes sense I guess."

Bucky dropped Jordy's hand and looked between Vivian and Jordy in suspicious confusion. "Excuse me?"

Jordy laughed in his typical fashion (i.e. obnoxiously) and Vivian rolled her eyes. "We've met," was all the answer she provided.

"Met?!" Jordy exclaimed incredulously. "She kicked my ass! Well," he amended with a sneer in her direction, "as much as a lady such as yourself is capable of."

"This is the guy you beat up at the gym?!" Steve helpfully chimed in, looking at her with wide eyes around Bucky's still stiff form.

Vivian shrugged.

"Hey," Jordy protested, crossing his arms over his chest as if to draw attention to his bulging muscles. "I would hardly say that she beat me up."

"Oh yeah?" Steve retorted. "Then what's with the black eye, pal?"

Vivian hadn't noticed before, as she was dutifully avoiding eye contact in this very awkward situation, but she did then. Jordy was definitely still sporting his black eye from earlier that week, though it had faded significantly. She couldn't help but smirk in pride regardless.

"Okay," Bucky said, having finally snapped, dropping his arm from Vivian's shoulder as he took a step closer to Jordy. "Would someone please explain what's going on here?"

Though the question appeared to be directed at all three of his companions, he had eyes only for Jordy. This did not bode well for the rest of their evening.

Jordy held up his hands appealingly, apparently picking up on the fact that Bucky was not pleased. "Just had a friendly match with your girl at the gym earlier this week. She packs quite the punch," he surprisingly complimented, gesturing towards his eye. "I just meant that it makes sense, her being tied to you and all."

"I'm not—" Vivian began to protest, but was cut off by Bucky, who apparently had bigger issues than his and Vivian's relationship status.

"So, what you're sayin' is that you had a fight with Vivian?"

Jordy narrowed his eyes, apparently unsure of how to proceed, and Vivian and Steve exchanged a nervous glance. She wasn't sure what kind of testosterone-fueled showdown this was, but she wasn't a fan.

"Listen," she said, placing a hand on Bucky's arm to get his attention. He acknowledged her with a glance out of the corner of his eye, but he apparently had no intentions of turning away from Jordy. "I challenged him to the fight and I won. No harm, no foul."

"So, let me get this straight," Bucky said, finally turning a half-step toward Vivian as his focus returned to her. "You went to my gym." A nod in confirmation. "You challenged this idiot to a fight." Another nod. "While still injured." Another, more hesitant nod. "And you still won?"

Vivian pursed her lips, but still nodded in the affirmative. "Yeah, that about sums it up."

The silence only lasted one more tense moment before Bucky was smiling once more. Vivian felt like she had whiplash as he slung his arm across her back and pulled her back into his side. "That's my girl! I should have known that I didn't need to worry about you."

Vivian considered refuting Bucky's claim on her, but couldn't bring herself to do it. It felt different from the way Jordy said it, as if it weren't possessive, but more… like he was proud to have her at his side. She couldn't remember the last time any non-mutant had made her feel that way, if such a time even existed. So rather than remind herself of the reasons that she would never really be Bucky's anything, she allowed herself this one, brief moment while Bucky and Steve finished up their conversation with Jordy to bask in this feeling of comradery that she had so much trouble finding in her time, but Steve and Bucky seemed to welcome her with.

Before she knew it, they had left Jordy behind and were heading back to the apartment where Vivian was presumably supposed to cook for them.

"So," Steve interrupted the silence and shot a teasing glance at Vivian. She narrowed her eyes at him in warning, which he promptly ignored. "Are we just not gonna talk about the fact that Vivian took Jordy down in a fight?"

"It wasn't really a fair fight," Vivian protested in an attempt to be humble, though she wasn't sure why. She didn't even like Jordy. "He was trying not to beat me up too bad, and it's not like a boxed with him."

"Still," Bucky said, shooting a still somehow proud-looking smile down at her. "You gave him a black eye. That's impressive."

Vivian returned Bucky's smile with a sly one of her own, suddenly feeling less humble and more like a badass. "Oh, I did more than that."

Steve and Bucky both laughed at that, and Bucky squeezed her a little tighter to his side. She hadn't even noticed that he was still holding on to her.

"What am I gonna do with you two?" Bucky groaned, suddenly more sober than he was a minute about, though only slightly.

Vivian raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"I'm gone for a month and you and Steve can do nothing but get yourself into fights! It's like you were made to cause trouble."

"At least one of us can win them," Steve shot back good naturedly, grinning at Vivian.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she said. "Some of them."

Bucky sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "You know Vivian, when we took you in, I thought that you would maybe help keep Steve out of trouble. Little did I know, you were just another pain-in-the-ass version of him."

"Hey," Steve protested in mock-offense. "We are not that alike."

"Yeah," Vivian agreed with a wink at the blonde. "I'm taller."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "I'm a better artist."

"I can actually win a fight, on occasion."

"I pick the fights I get into. The fights find you."

"I know how to cook things that aren't soup- or tomato-based."

"I know how to patch a hole in the ceiling."

"Hey!" Vivian protested, barely able to keep her smile in check anymore as they neared the stairs to their apartment building. "I was just about to—"

"Alright, alright guys," Bucky finally interrupted, looking far too amused as he ascended the wrought-iron stairs, throwing them a smirk over his shoulder. "You're both pretty." Cue dual eye-rolling. "Besides, we both know who the real pain in the ass is."

Vivian and Steve exchanged looks as they followed him up the stairs, before declaring in unison, "You."

"Exactly," Bucky grinned back at them, unlocking the door and ushering them inside.

Vivian's mission was certainly not panning out the way that she had hoped, but as she, Bucky, and Steve all crammed into the kitchen to make what would turn out to be a rather terribly-cooked chicken dinner, she couldn't make herself regret it. Her time here with them seemed more real than most of her life had, sequestered away in Xavier's mansion, hiding who she was from the world.

She still had her secrets—even more now than she did before—but Bucky and Steve had a way of making her feel like she still belonged, despite all of that. This felt like home to her, and in away, they felt like they were her home too.

She couldn't help but shed a few tears as she lay in bed that night, thinking about all that she would have to lose in the coming year to save the future and wondering if it would all be worth it if she had to watch this life burn away right before her eyes.

A/N: Finally! Chapter 7 is complete. I had intended to actually take us into CA:TFA, and get started on, you know… the actual mission that this plot is supposed to be centered around. But, as always, I got a little carried away. But I've already started on the next chapter, so this next update should come much faster!

As usual, please favorite, follow, and especially, review! I love hearing from each and every one of you, and whenever I get writer's block or consider dropping this story, I read your lovely reviews to motivate me to keep going. You guys are all the best!