A/N: HAHA I lied, actually, two more parts. The next chapter and an epilogue, because shit's about to get intense. Also, I updated IWFCSPA (sorry about the wait and everything) but fact remains updates will be vary rare these next couple of months and all the way through to next year, especially once I hit the June-August period and the October period because I'll be doing HSC trials and the actual HSC (honestly, why am I taking all these subjects). But I will try to update as often as I can. Also, just because I couldn't be too entirely screwed, these next parts are set in Kiama before they go back up to Blackheath in the blue mountains.

Also, it gets sorta steamy, but not smutty, but not sure if I should raise the ratings level... please tell me if I should...

This chapter song is by Flight of the Conchords, please watch them, they are my precious kiwi children (which I guess is traitorous to say seeing as I'm an Australian).

An Agent and An Assassin

Part 10: Rambling through the avenues of time

"Where the hell did you get that shirt?" Mary asked him. He looked up, unaware that he'd done anything to personally offend her within thirty seconds of waking up.

"What?"

"First of all, it's red, I'm liking it. Second of all, it's a tight-fitting dress shirt and I am here for that aesthetic. It says classy, but the rolled-up sleeves say rebel." She pointed out with a yawn, grabbing another mug of tea and downing the scalding liquid. "For fucks sake, you'd have thought we'd gotten that stone by now."

"I don't know about you, but we got a ridiculously pretty necklace that could threaten all of history and this plane of reality sitting in a safe with some SHIELD tech that a group of scientists strung up together using some bottle caps and twine. Okay maybe not bottle caps and twine…" He corrected himself in response to her murderous glare. "I'm just saying, you could be a bit happier about it…"

"We've been here for a fucking month, they're not about to pay us over time." She grumbled "You know what I could do with overtime? I could get myself out of student debt-"

"You're a scholarship student. SHIELD pays for your tuition-"

"BUT IT WOULD MAKE ME FEEL BETTER!" Mary protested before shovelling a pile of scrambled eggs into her mouth. "See I can cook."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. It seems we have a development with that cooking competition you were making me enter."

"Mhm?" she scooted over, allowing him to sit beside her, his chin perched upon her shoulder as he held the pamphlet before her. "Oh? It's been cancelled?"

"Apparently their largest benefactor pulled out because it 'conflicted with interests'."

"Just a bit suss." She agreed, tilting her head to rest upon his. "But, I know we haven't thought about this, but who the hell would want to be after us anyway?"

"Angry in-laws?" Bucky suggested, smiling with pride as she pounded the table in silent, hysterical laughter, wiping tears from her eyes. "No, but we pissed off how many millionaires?"

"A few dozen, nothing to worry about." she shrugged off. "Wait, can you grab me that box from that cupboard?" Bucky stood up, crossing the small floor-space to one of the cupboards in the kitchenette, tugging a small brown box from it's spot.

"This is the one Agent Holmes gave us at the start, isn't it?"

"Mhm." He helped her open it, shuffling through manila folders and newspaper clippings.

"Here, another one of the infinity stones. Mentioned it was in some far-off galaxy called Nova Prime, wherever it is. Reckon we could go there-"

"No." he answered flatly, remembering only too well the time she'd sat him through an episode of Star Trek.

"Well, that isn't the point. But do you think that people interested in that other stone or gem or whatever, were interested in this one? Maybe they sent people over-"

"It's not a maybe, it's most likely a definitely." Bucky replied after some though, intently reading the files. "It would explain how some of the millionaires at the auction had ridiculous amounts of money to spend. But what I don't understand is why so many of them dropped out after that first auction-"

"Maybe they realised what it really was. Or maybe they got bumped off a list, I don't like the sound of the second one, but there you go." Mary shrugged "Anyway, best be on our guard yeah? What time is it?"

"8 ish? Why?"

"Is it too early for cake?"

"I thought you were an adult?"

"Yeah, but we need an adult-ier adult." She paused for a moment, fiddling with some loose hair, he tucked it behind her ear before it fell into her tea. Bucky quickly remembered that he'd whipped up some custard a couple of nights before with some spare amounts of cream and eggs they'd had. Standing up, he crossed the cramped space to the fridge, pulling out the small container.

"What are you-" he shushed her, pouring the custard over the tinned peaches.

"I thought you were craving cake?"

"Custard and cake are completely different things, Barnes-"

"Listen doll, are you going to eat it or nah?" he made a small face, realising he'd also stolen the word 'nah' from her.

"Fine," she rolled her eyes "I'm only doing this to make you feel better about yourself-Mhm, where'd you buy this?" she groaned, tossing her head back against the seat, lolling towards his chest, licking the spoon. He did his best to ignore that. "It actually tastes better than sex."

"What?" he stuttered, only just aware that he'd narrowly avoided falling off the seat, her light silk robe sliding off her shoulders and revealing her bubblegum- pink lace bra. Mary sat back straight, unknowingly giving him the sexiest glance she could have possible mustered. She readjusted some white knee socks that had slid down during her sleep before deciding to talk to him again.

"It tastes better than sex- you know what? Never mind."

"Thanks, I guess… it's my mum's recipe."

"That's lovely. Listen, we should get ready pretty soon, markets are opening soon." With a ruffle of his hair, she shimmied past him, tossing the dresser open to find a dress. Slipping it over her underwear she entered the bathroom, exiting once she'd located a metal cat-eared headband, slipping it into her hair.

"How do I look?" she bit her lip, nervously grinning, but not before re-adjusting her over-the-knee socks and straightening up again.

She looked fucking adorable, that stupid, petite nerd. He felt like an absolute cad, she was not allowed to be that sensual and adorable at the same time.

They'd spend the solid part of their morning trawling through every bric-a-brac section they could. Well, he spent more time trying to stop her from impulse buying everything she decided she liked, from vintage books to fresh produce. Apparently she was in the Steve Rogers paleo diet movement (when he wasn't too busy stuffing his face with junk food. Bucky saw everything Rogers did… he even had footage…). But he did allow the one purchase of chocolate-dipped strawberries, but he thought he was being overly-indulgent with that stupid nerd fluttering eyelashes and pouting slightly just so she could browse through collections of records for some of her favourite bands (or was it her dad's. Or perhaps it was both).

"Now, would you mind holding my headband for me?" Mary turned with a start, her face almost crashing into his chest.

"Your headband, sure thing doll-" she pulled cat-eared headband from her hair and with great difficulty, rose upon her toes to perch it upon his own head.

"May I ask why?"

"Because my husband looks very cute as a kitty-cat." She smiled adorably, giving a soft peck upon his cheek and practically skipping off to the hat stall. He smiled absent-mindedly, brushing his metal fingers against his cheek, he could almost still feel the butterfly kiss, and he could almost remember that light floral scent and the brush of soft chiffon fabric against his bare arm.

From the stall he had been browsing, he could see her trying on various floppy hats, each as ridiculous and endearing as the last. Bucky continued to meander around stalls near the short wall leading to the beach. His search seemed to prove fruitless, only reaching a final stall filled with old photographs. Naturally, he found himself drawn towards a large box labelled 'America'.

Each photograph seemed to contain only one backdrop; that of Europe at war. He even recognised Steve in his stupid spandex outfit, 'entertaining' the troops. The troop was foreign to him, the photo slowly changed from the cold, snowy winters of France to the bomb-devastated streets of Manila.

"It doesn't look like that anymore," Mary sidled up to him, looping her arm around his. "I've been there, it's a lot nicer, more traffic-"

"Manila? Did you say Manila?"

"Unless I spontaneously started speaking Sindarin- ugh yes, I did…"

"It's just… back in the days before the war-"

"I'm getting nostalgia and a painful realisation… what is it?" she stood up on her toes again to pull the head band off him and placing another soft peck on his cheek, Mary held his metallic hand in her soft hand and led him to the low wall, sitting beside him, offering him a sip of a mango smoothie.

"Well," he took a small sip, nodding his approval before continuing. "Back in the day doll, you had probably half an hour's- worth of footage before the actual film started. There were old destination ones and-"

"And?" Mary smiled encouragingly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well, I told Steve that one day I'd go to the Philippines, see Manila, play golf maybe."

"Well, the gold course doesn't exist anymore. But if it makes you feel any better, you have one of those 'beautiful ladies of Manila' on your arm."

"You know what, I think I do." The sunlight caught in her eyes making them appear a clear amber colour as she laughed at his pathetic joke. But he didn't need to be an empath to know she was as desperate as he was to find that tiara. Every piece of technology had led them here, and it was frustrating her more than she let on. Bucky knew that no matter how well she hid it, she was always checking her phone and the app for signals, always biting her lip, always nervously drumming against whatever she held.

They spent the rest of that afternoon lazily sitting by the beach, watching clouds roll in from beyond the horizon. Bucky didn't decide to leave until the wind began to turn bitterly cold and the blue sky had faded into a dark iron.

She'd woken him up at exactly 2:27 the following morning, eyes shining and practically giddy with excitement. Or maybe it was just her phone set to the brightest setting possible and reflecting in her eyes and burning his out. With some hushed arguing, he'd agreed to leave at in three hours time, once she'd let him at least slip the shock off.

Mary complained the entire way about how it was so typical that the stone would have ended up somewhere they'd already been and thoroughly searched (well, she'd thoroughly searched because she was looking for a dress), all while driving and gesticulating wildly. He tried to sleep it off.

If it weren't for the fact she pretty much pushed him out of the front seat, he would have never noticed that she had finally reached the destination. The mask slipped again, he watched as her bottom lip trembled, eyes darting around looking for some small comfort in anything but him.

"Mary?"

"Hm?" she shook her head before turning to face him.

"You right kid?"

"Yeah, let's just find it and get out of here. I feel terrible."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yeah," She smiled grimly, pulling her long tresses into a pony tail "Yeah it is. Can't believe that this is it, after all that time…"

"I don't think I'm going to miss your Flight of the Conchords albums…" Bucky muttered, watching her reaction for the vaguest smile.

"Hey, conditions are perfect on Wednesdays, Monday night is my turn to cook, Tuesday night is the night we visit your mother. There's nothing good on TV and you're not too tired from your after-work social netball game-"

"I was joking, I didn't expect you to quote the song lyric for lyric-"

"You are underestimating my love for many things." She bumped his shoulder, watching people enter the car-park, arms filled with boxes of books or simply holding small kitsch items. If he knew that the ugly little lamp in his old sitting room that Steve tried to destroy on multiple occasions would be valuable in 70 years' time, he would've been more careful with it.

"What about your love for me?"

"Ooh, I think you grossly overestimate that one." She playfully pouted, carefully angling her head away from him in a manner worthy of a pin-up model. "Nah, just kidding. Anyway, are you ready?"

"Well, the longer we wait in this van, the more likely the stone will get away from us." Bucky pointed out. With a nod, the both hopped out of the van, her wooden heels crunching on the gravel as they briskly approached the antique store.

To be honest, he was disappointed that the cabinet he'd spied a couple of weeks ago had vanished, he'd been considering taking it back home with them- him. It was his home, not here. Actually, if he was being honest, it wasn't even his home anymore. With a silent gesture she pointed to the stair-case, imparting that she intended to survey the upper storey while he searched the bottom. After a quarter of an hour's searching he decided to check the most obvious place, the jewellery cabinets.

"Looking for anything in particular?" The man behind the counter asked "We have all sorts, ranging from European jewellery to some more modern pieces. I personally think this 1920's arrow brooch is quite charming."

"Yes it is, isn't it?" The arrow tip of the brooch was removable and could be pinned through clothing. "Have you got anything for my fiancée?" Bucky gauged the man's reaction, watching him smooth down greying hair, brown eyes meeting his blue.

"Your fiancée, huh?" That, that intonation at the end. The fact he'd gone down at the 'huh'. He'd spent the last month living with an Australian and hell, done missions with her beforehand, Bucky liked to think he knew something about Australians.

"Yeah, I was picking out a ring, though I think heirloom jewellery might be the way to go. You haven't got anything say… diamonds and platinum bands have you? Or perhaps something more unique…"

"Hm, got a nation in particular that you're looking for?" The man licked his lips in a way that unnerved him.

"She's a bit of a Victorian sort of aesthetic thing going…" Bucky lied off the top of his head, his eyes intently observing each ring, hoping he could find it. "Something unique with a bit of an atmosphere."

"How large is her finger?"

"Tiny. So something delicate, no, scratch that. Huge-ass rock, she's a bit showy like that."

"Theatrical? Okay, I might have just the thing." No, he could've sworn that the click he'd just heard was not one from a cupboard sliding open and close. It was closer to the sound of a gun loading. The breath caught in his throat, the stone reminded him of a gem he'd once seen in a fantasy film he'd watched with her, pure white and opalescent, like it reflected every colour in the dim light of the antique store. The golden claws held the ring in its setting, refusing to allow it's precious cargo to be prised from the practically worthless ring.

"I think she'd like it. What'll it cost me?" he spotted her in the loft, happily searching through the vintage dresses as she had a couple of weeks ago, a small smile plastered on her face.

"Oh not much." Bucky wasn't entirely sure how he let it happen, but his reflexes were slow, too slow. He failed her the moment the dart pierced his shoulder, a drug painfully creeping it's way through his veins. The worst part was that he couldn't even scream. The greasy man slid the ring onto his smallest finger with an unearthly bark and the world began to fade to black.

Gathering his last bits of strength he stumbled towards a secluded set of shelves, trying to steady himself. The last thing he noticed in his current place of reality was Agent Reyes' lower lip trembling, staring at an open space with such anger; it was as if that ugly vase had insulted her.

The first thing he noticed was a pair of towering heels tossed carelessly on the polished floor beside a pelt rug, a heavy coat and a silken dress was next in his line of sight, leading him to the bed. It was a sensually lit boudoir, deep red sheets lay on the bed pulled invitingly open, satin pillows strewn generously over the mattress. Bucky noticed red marks upon the collar of his dishevelled shirt, his dinner jacket tossed carelessly upon a chair.

"Mary?"

"That's dollface to you, flyboy. Anyway," Now he was completely confused, and since when did she own that underwear? Well it certainly wasn't bothering him, especially not when she'd drawn up to him, a teasing finger tracing the collar of his shirt, her other hand slowly exploring his abdomen. "We have business to be getting back to." Another thing, since when was she capable of reaching a voice that husky?

'Since you probably made her scream your name over and over again.' An unhelpful voice at the back of his head answered.

Her deep chocolate eyes never left his as they parted. Fingers hooked around his tie, her hips sensually swayed as she retreated to the bed, seductively crossing her legs as she reclined on her elbows, tilting her head back with an inviting sigh. Her soft skin exposed and barely covered by black lace underwear, her waist entrapped in a belt holding up her stockings. A single bra strap slid off a slender shoulder, her eyelids fluttering shut, daring him to come closer. Bucky felt the desire well up in him as he noticed small marks along her elegant neck. He'd put them there and by the looks of things she'd thoroughly enjoyed herself. Well, that was the most important thing, wasn't it?

In the logic of the dream he was instantly at the foot of the bed, an arm swiftly caught hold of her offered ankle, pulling her closer to him in order to unclip her stocking, slowly but deliberately pulling the sheer silk down.

"I thought you liked those? I specifically bought them for you."

"Maybe I changed my mind."

"Perhaps," she coquettishly bit a crimson lip, coloured not from lipstick but swollen from past, heated kissed he'd not given in this dream. "But you must come to bed, Buck, you always enjoy yourself." With a slender finger she beckoned him once again to the pillows, smirking and looking at him through heavily-lidded eyes, he slowly moved to her, feeling the soft plush of the blankets under his fingers. Bucky wondered whether her- no he knew that her hair would be softer than anything, and he was yearning to run his fingers through them, to smell them, to press his lips to her ear and whisper sweet nothings.

Sooner than he could breathe, petal-soft lips were pressed against his.

Mary had left him, sipping on her latte and wandering the aisles. She'd been here so many times before, hell, she'd even bought her formal dress here. But that wasn't important now, she was scanning every shelf for that tiara. She'd been down to the hat-section, but it hadn't been there, and with Bucky roaming the jewellery cupboards, maybe it was best if she moved on.

"Mary-" she turned sharply at the sound of her name, nearly dropping a Mountain Lodge-scented candle (how it got there, she had no idea).

"Professor Xavier!? How the hell- You know what, never mind." She clamped her hand over her mouth, determined not to scream in sheer terror… because he probably found that picture where she photoshopped flower crowns on him and Magneto. "I guess a better question would be-"

"What am I doing here? Well, initially we were told by SHIELD not to interfere, however, I am increasingly worried for you two." He rubbed at his temple, rolling his eyes just a little.

"Also, like has anyone told Magneto about how good his fashion sense in the 70's was? Because it was hella on point like even his hat was jauntily perched on his head and-"

"Miss Reyes-"

"I was wondering why you were all sitting out of this situation, I mean doesn't it concern you too and-"

"Miss Reyes I am here to tell you that-"

"Also, I was thinking, do you think I could talk to you once I get back? I just wanted to check over some things and-"

"Miss Reyes, we have decided, Erik and I both agree that you cannot continue your college studies-"

"And like-" she paused, unable to believe what she was hearing, eyes narrowing. "Charles whatever-the-hell-your-middle-name-is Xavier, you cannot be telling me I can't continue-" her voice had reached a dangerous depth, her breathing harsh.

"Unfortunately I am. And my middle name is Francis-"

"But… but-" she couldn't process anything, her entire world had shut down. Sure she hated maths and writing extended responses, but this had been her everything. Her one chance to prove- Her one chance to prove to her parents and more importantly to herself that she was fine, she was capable, she could make them proud even after what happened to her sister.

"I understand. I am aware you were doing well, and rest assured we are proud-"

"But I was nearly done, professor. I was about to finish my under-grad… I-I was…." Her fingers felt for the dusty wood of the shelf, trying to keep herself upright. It was just a disappointment, just another small disappointment. Perhaps now she could pursue that acting career she'd always dreamed about. "Thank you, I understand that this was a difficult message for you to deliver, Professor. If both yourself and Magneto agree, then I understand it must be-"

"Oh, stop putting up the façade. It isn't helping any of us, Miss Reyes." Xavier stopped her. "Truly, I am sorry. You had such potential, you would have reached that potential."

"Professor, one quick question." She struggled to breathe "W-Why? You-you know what? Never mind. More important things. Where is he?" her heart pounded in her chest, beating faster than it had ever dared. Her vision was dotted, spinning before her, her breath came in short pants and every breath felt like daggers of ice through her lungs. She felt that terrible urge to run, to hide, to hold someone tight and just let the tears fall.

"Bucky? Bucky where are you?" she pushed away from the shelf, tripping over the Turkish rug on the dusty floor, peeking behind shelves for him.

"Miss Reyes? Please understand that we are-"

"No, stop. Where is he? I need him." She told the Professor shortly. "Buck? Mate where are you-" she turned in her spot, realising one fatal problem.

She couldn't sense him.

Fuck.

"Oh hell. James Buchanan Fuckshit Barnes where are you?" her voice began to rise above a whisper, her heavy steps such a marked difference from her barely audible steps of earlier. With each empty aisleway her panic increased more, she wanted to throw herself into a bucket of icy-cold water, anything to stop the pain, anything to stop the fear of panicking.

"Miss Reyes-"

"Fuck off, Xavier." Mary snapped, too angry at Charles Xavier at the moment to even bother to call him professor.

"Please, please understand I am here to help-"

"Look," she turned abruptly, confronting the spectre before her "The one person I want to tell me I'm alright isn't here, and I'm honestly so scared because it means that he's hurt or he's-" she inhaled sharply, running down the stairs, hoping that spectre!Xavier couldn't follow her.

Apparently cerebro-induced visions of Charles Xavier in a wheelchair could traverse stair cases. After another tense minute she finally found him.

"Buck? Buck are you okay?" Mary pulled her dazed partner off to the side, hidden in amongst the shelves and shelves of bric-a-brac. "Oomph- Woah, bruh you're built like an ox." He flumped forward on top of her and she hurried to place him down on the floor, groggy and hardly responding to her.

"-Dollface-"

"Okay, it's me. Come on, why can't I sense you!?" her anguished whispers seemed unanswered as he continued to slide from her, she pressed a hand to her temple, as if it would help her block out every other insignificant person's emotions in this moment. She just needed him, she only needed him. "FUCK! What do you mean I have to snap him out of it!?" she added a furious whisper to Charles Xavier, who muttered something under his breath with a supressed snort. "It's not very Professor-like of you."

"Is anything about me Professor-like to you, Miss Reyes? According to you my sense of fashion in 1973-"

"Yeah, yeah I'm having a crisis." She dismissed, too pissed at Charles Xavier to care at the moment and too busy worrying at the state of her friend.

"I... ugh…"

"Come on, James Buchanan Barnes this is not the time! Wait, that moan did not sound normal… " she pleaded with him, only realising he was sliding further and further from consciousness. "Fuck it, he's in a leather jacket, may as well. Professor, could you at least turn around or something-"

"I'm leaving!"

"Okay… I'm so sorry about this bae." Taking a deep breath she willed herself to kiss him without becoming a giggly thirteen-year-old experiencing their first kiss.

His arms moved from hanging limply at his side to burying themselves in her hair and caressing the side of her face, the cool metal of his fingers soothing the rising blush she was trying to keep down. She'd made the terrible mistake of assuming his kiss would be tepid, given his barely-responsive state, but she was so wrong.

Putting it this way. If one were to have a scale of sexy kisses, 'my-gran-is-watching' being 1 and 'sexual-fantasies-of-Aidan-Turner' being about a 10, this kiss would have probably obliterated the scale and the surrounding facilities.

It was the way their breaths intermingled, the scent of his smoky aftershave and leather jacket, the slight scratch of stubble from his chin. Mary would have never thought that his lips were so soft, and that he would be the sort of guy into biting lips. Actually, taking that back, she guessed that he would be. But that was how she found herself moaning deeper into the kiss as Bucky leaned back against the wall and she straddled his thighs, logically commanding for the moment to end, but her inner hopeless romantic begging for her to continue.

Was this what she missed out on when she pulled back all those nights ago, when she found that lead in Jenolan? If it was, then she was incredibly sorry.

"I think that's quite enough." Charles Xavier coughed pointedly. With a final breath she parted, watching his slow breathing return to normality.

"I have so many things to rant to you about-"

"And without a doubt, I've already heard them." He tapped his temple once again before gesturing to Bucky who had begun to stir. "I really cannot dally any longer."

"Send my best regards to your husband." Mary nodded as the professor suddenly vanished from her gaze.

However, the ring seemed to whisper to her, telling her it was alright, that everything would be alright and how it should be. She wanted to grab it, to slide it off his finger and place it in the safe, where it would mean she could go home and sleep without too much worry. But it continued to hum with life, singing laments of days long past.

She should have paid attention, she should have noticed the shadow that cast over her as Bucky began to open his eyes.

"Fuck!" After that Sam had no idea what other swear words Wanda let loose, but he was sure they were directed to herself. Pietro angrily flipped a table, watching as papers and pens scattered before sheepishly packing them up again, quicker than lightning, as if it had never happened. Maria Hill turned away from the laptop screen, resting her forehead on her knuckles, determined to fight her way through it.

"We're only twenty minutes away." Maria breathed slowly "Barnes has a great track record as does Reyes, they can stall… they can-"

"Wanda, do you think you could still reverse this stone?" Pietro asked his sister. Sam echoed his sentiments, however too caught up in something else. They seemed too close, and it was bothering him. Not in a bad way, but in the way they were just denying everything.

"I don't know. Mind stone, easy peasy. But this, these two would be harder. I think they'd have to beat it inside first before I could even try."

"Especially with the two of them together." Sam finally spoke, considering their options. "Alright nerd herd-"

"Hey, I was on the school volleyball team!" Hill protested.

"You were also a Canadian pop star." Sam mentioned, watching Pietro's mouth drop to the ground while Wanda cringed in second-hand embarrassment.

"Y-you were Robin Sparkles?"

"He wanted to marry you." Wanda added unhelpfully. "He had posters and CDs on his Walkman and-"

"That ain't the point. Aright, here's what's up. I'm gonna take Wanda with me on the suit, shouldn't be too hard. Pietro, I want you to get there first, infiltrate and see who that son of a bitch is, yeah?"

"Yeah." Pietro laced up his shoe-laces before pausing and knotting them again before opening the door and sprinting, practically becoming invisible to Sam's eye.

"Hill I want you to relay a message to Coulson to send to Asgard. You know what to do…"

"Do you know what you're doing?" Wanda asked Sam as he began to strap on his suit.

"To be honest, hell no. But someone's gotta be the cavalry."

So, please review my lovelies, the feedback is always wonderful. Now, I need to get back to studying for my prelim finals. Wow, I'm so screwed...