Despite the early hour, the main thoroughfare in St Joseph's was busy, people hurrying along the street. But she barely registered them - she stared out of the window, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The mission was more complicated than even she'd anticipated. Going back in time to find Steve and bring him back to the future, only to end up travelling the Oregon Trail… How did that happen?

And they would have to travel the trail, if they wanted to stay with Steve. The previous night's dinner had been awkward; she'd coached Bucky on their cover story all afternoon, but he'd still stumbled over parts of it, there were still holes in it, and Steve had bombarded them with questions. Bucky had stuck to the story and only slipped up a couple of times, but he'd been unable to hide his misery. Steve's failure to remember him had been a body blow he'd yet to recover from. He'd been in a dark place already, brooding incessantly about his past with HYDRA - this had made him worse.

And he needed to pull himself out of it - Steve's memories of Bucky would be of a laid-back, charming, happy young man, not a melancholy, introspective, sad one. They were telling so many lies, that something had to be right, so it made sense to Steve - and Bucky at this moment wasn't right at all.

But even though he understood that on an academic level, he couldn't switch it on and off. He'd tried the night before, and once or twice the old Bucky had emerged, all smiling, charming friendliness, but never for long. He wasn't an actor - but he had to learn, and fast, to shut away whatever was bothering him, and be what he was needed to be. Because only the old Bucky Barnes could help Steve remember. And as long as Steve didn't remember, they'd be condemned to follow in his wake. A life in Oregon as a pioneer didn't appeal.

Across the street, a girl in a bonnet, tendrils of red hair curling down her neck, was pounding on the door of the doctor's house. There was a small child in her arms, and she positively radiated anxiety - probably a young mother with a sick child. Natasha started to turn away, when the girl shifted the child in her arms, bringing his face
into view. It was James Rogers.

"Bucky?"

"What?" He crossed the room to stand by her, despite the lack of enthusiasm in his tone.

"See that girl with the child across the street?"

"Yes. And?" A second later, considerably sharper, "Hang on. Isn't that Steve's kid?"

"I thought that too. I wonder who she is…"

"Jessie," Bucky said suddenly. "With the pretty hair like yours."

She nodded. "And she's pretty insistent that the doctor answer his door. I wonder what's wrong."

"Steve?" Bucky tensed beside her. "What if something's happened to him?"

"No," she replied slowly. "If it was Steve, she wouldn't have James. He'd be with his mother. I think it's more likely to be James himself, or Grace."

"What should we do?"

"You're not going to do anything. I'm going to go down there and find out what's going on."

"And see if she's HYDRA?"

She shrugged. "That too. If she is, she might not know we're here yet. If we can catch her unawares, perhaps she'll give herself away. If she's HYDRA."

He sighed impatiently. "Grace isn't HYDRA. It makes far more sense for it to be someone like this Jessie than his wife."

She shrugged again, unwilling to waste time arguing. "Stay here."

She slipped out of their room, habit making her silent. By the time she reached the street, someone had opened the doctor's door. Jessie, if it was her, was standing waiting, looking worriedly up the street and then back in to the house. Natasha quickly crossed the street, unnoticed by the girl, but as she neared them, James saw her. He reached out to her, smiling and bouncing excitedly, causing his minder to turn quickly to see what had caught his attention. She came face to face with Natasha, who although ostensibly preoccupied with saying hello to James, was observing her minutely for anything that might give her away.

The girl jumped and stepped back, but more out of surprise at finding someone so close than anything else. James had grabbed Natasha's hand by this point, trying to pull her closer; she reached out to stroke down his curls and then finally turned to meet her mark's eyes. The girl looked wary but no more than that. No screaming fear that the infamous Black Widow was in front of her, nothing except a guarded curiosity, eyes looking Natasha up and down. Well, then. Time for a charm offensive. HYDRA or not, she was Steve's friend; he trusted her enough to leave his child in her care.

Winning her over could help win Steve over. She smiled winsomely. "I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself first, but James is just so charming, I couldn't help myself. I'm Natalie - I'm a friend of Steve's, from his past."

Her quarry was still wary, but took the hand she'd been offered. "Grace mentioned you." So she had known about them already. She didn't add anything more until Natasha's raised eyebrows prompted her. "Oh, I'm Jessie. Jessie Williams. I'm a friend of Steve and Grace."

"I've heard about you." Nodding towards James, she added, "Someone here is quite taken with you."

A smile, a real smile, crept across the corner of Jessie's mouth as she looked down at James. "I guess I indulge him more than his parents do."

Natasha smiled again. "That's the joy of not being a parent, isn't it?" Jessie nodded and half smiled, her expression now more open. Encouraged, Natasha pressed on. "But - you're fetching the doctor. Is there a problem?"

The doors slammed shut again - she'd asked the wrong thing. But eventually, Jessie nodded again. "Grace is - hurt."

"Oh, no! Nothing serious, I hope?"

A slight shrug. "She says she fell down the steps of the wagon, and bruised her ribs." Natasha raised her eyebrows - Grace was quite the contortionist. Jessie caught her look, and nodded. "I don't think it makes much sense either."

"You don't think Steve hurt her, do you?" Her outrage was only partially feigned. Steve would never hurt his wife.

Jessie met her eyes unwillingly, having registered the implicit threat in her tone. She looked away, and Natasha watched the emotions flit across her face, as a battle raged inside her - could she trust this stranger? If the girl was HYDRA, she hadn't been trained to hide her emotions. Or maybe that was the point. She might be a master
bluffer. It didn't seem likely; Grace was still the most likely interloper, but Jessie was still a possibility. Bucky had a point; in some ways, Jessie was a better fit - the convenient friend.

Then Jessie spoke, interrupting her train of thought. "Sometimes Steve has nightmares. Bad ones." Natasha frowned, but nodded, encouraging her to continue. "And I'm sure you know how strong he is." As Natasha nodded again, more slowly, Jessie shrugged. "Well, he had a nightmare last night. And this morning, Grace can barely breathe without it hurting. I think the two might be related."

Natasha stared at her, at a complete loss. Steve would never knowingly hurt his wife, but asleep, in the throes of a nightmare, he might. Bucky was proof of that, because he suffered just the same - he'd even refused to sleep in the same bed as her. She'd put it down to his 1940s sensibilities, but one night, he'd woken her with his thrashing about, trapped in the grip of a nightmare, unable to wake. His metal arm had crashed down onto the floor - had he been in the bed beside her, it would have come down on her head. His reluctance hadn't been prudishness - he hadn't wanted to wake up one morning to discover that he'd caved in the face of his 'wife' as he'd slept. She'd
left it after that.

Jessie had watched her in silence as she thought. But as Natasha's eyes met hers again, she added, "And then Grace begged me not to fetch the doctor. She really didn't want Steve to know about it."

Which confirmed it. "He'll be distraught when he finds out."

There was a stubborn set to Jessie's jaw as she answered. "Yes. He will. But that doesn't mean he shouldn't know." Her fierce loyalty to Grace was unexpected. Could they both be HYDRA?

"I wasn't saying he shouldn't be told. Just - try to be gentle about it, please?"

Jessie's expression softened, and she nodded. "I will."

The doctor emerged from his house at that moment, medicine bag in hand. Natasha stepped back. "I should let you go. I hope Grace is alright." Jessie smiled weakly, but said nothing. Natasha turned to James. "And you, behave for your mother. She's going to need you to be a good boy now."

James stared back at her, but clearly didn't understand her. He looked behind her. "Bucky?"

"Bucky's not here right now, little one. But he'll be sad he missed you." James pouted in disappointment, but said nothing more.

She glanced up at Jessie, and her strange expression had to be interrogated. If she was HYDRA, the name Bucky would definitely mean something to her. She'd be startled to find him turning up, looking for Steve, in the presence of Natasha Romanoff. "Bucky's my husband. Bucky Barnes. His real name is James, but everyone's always called him Bucky." She deliberately bombarded Jessie with repeated use of his name, trying to get a reaction out of her. Not a flicker.

"He has an unusual name." That was all - a casual observation, uttered calmly and almost disinterestedly. She was either very, very good, or completely and utterly innocent. And Natasha had no idea which. "Anyway, we should go. Grace is in a lot of pain. I'll let you get back to your husband, Mrs Barnes."

As they walked off, James waved at her over Jessie's shoulder; she reflexively waved back. She could sneak after them - to make sure Grace was alright, to find out more, to figure out who was HYDRA and who wasn't, but she didn't move. They were due to visit later, so that Steve could show them around the town (neither of them had the heart to tell him that they'd already searched it top to bottom looking for him). She'd find out then what was going on.