A/N Hello readers! Thank you for your responses to the previous chapter; they're much appreciated! As we move into Captain America 2, I just thought you might need to be notified that I have no claim on anything you recognise from Winter Soldier. You know, just in case you weren't sure...
"On your left," Steve warned courteously as he ran past a fellow jogger in the early dawn light. Steve wouldn't normally describe Washington DC as tranquil but, at that time of day amongst the beautiful lawns, calm waters and poignant memorials, it really was.
He came up on the same runner again. "On your left," he repeated.
"Uh-huh, on my left. Got it," the man replied as Steve rapidly left him behind.
It wasn't too long before Steve was coming up to lap him for the third occasion but, this time, the jogger decided to put up more of a fight. "Don't say it," he said desperately, hearing Steve's rapid footfalls and trying to inject a bit of speed into his own run. "Don't you say it!"
"On your left."
"Come on!" The jogger let out a frustrated cry as Steve sprinted past him.
The next time Steve saw the man he was slumped against a tree, panting for breath, his dark skin drenched with sweat.
Steve walked over, his own workout done for the day. "Need a medic?" he called teasingly.
The man chuckled and shook his head. "I need a new pair of lungs! Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes!"
"I guess I got a late start," Steve joked.
He laughed again. "Oh, really? You should be ashamed of yourself," he said sarcastically. "You should take another lap." He winced a moment and then looked back at Steve. "Did you take it? I assume you just took it," he mocked good-naturedly.
"What unit are you with?" Steve enquired, pointing to the insignia on the man's sweater.
"Fifty-eighth, para-rescue," he replied. "But now I'm working down at the VA." He held out his hand, silently requesting a bit of assistance to get up and Steve pulled him to his feet. "Sam Wilson," he introduced.
"Steve Rogers."
"I kinda put that together," Sam replied. "Must've freaked you out coming home after the whole defrosting thing."
"It takes some getting used to," Steve agreed. "It's good to meet you, Sam." He lifted his hand in a parting gesture and turned to leave, intending to meet Hermione.
"It's your bed, right?" Sam called. Steve paused and looked back.
"What's that?"
"Your bed, it's too soft," Sam explained. "When I was over there I'd sleep on the ground, use rocks as pillows like a caveman. Now I'm home, lying on my bed, it's like…"
"Lying on a marshmallow," Steve said. "I remember that feeling; like you're going to sink right through to the floor."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Remember that feeling?"
"My fiancée," Steve supplied. "She has this trick that makes my side of the bed much harder." When he and Hermione had first started sharing each other's bed, it hadn't taken her long to notice his unease with the mattress and now it was second nature for her to cast her spell on whatever bed they slept on: hers, his, hotels or their one in Avengers Tower. Truth be told, the whole mattress would feel pretty rigid to Steve and he suspected that it also felt perfectly soft for Hermione but he tried not to attempt to make sense of her spells for fear that it would leave him very confused.
"Fiancée, huh?" Sam looked impressed. "Congrats, man."
"Thanks."
"So, if it's not the bed, what, you just like being up this early in the morning?"
Steve chuckled at Sam's disbelieving tone. "It has its advantages," Steve allowed. "But, uh, most mornings one of us will wake before dark. Bad dreams, you know?"
Sam nodded grimly. "Does she serve?"
"In a manner of speaking. She's here somewhere; we have to run separate routes because she likes me passing her just as much as you do. She gets the museums and I get the memorials."
Sam crossed his arms and nodded. "Sounds like you've adapted pretty well to the twenty-first century. You don't miss the good old days?"
"Bits and pieces," Steve allowed. "The food's much better here; we used to boil everything. No polio is good. Internet, so helpful. I read that a lot, trying to catch up on things I've missed."
"Marvin Gaye, 1972, Trouble Man soundtrack," Sam suggested. "Everything you've missed jammed onto one album."
Steve nodded, taking out a notebook and pen from his pocket. "I'll put it on the list." Flicking to the correct page, he wrote 'Troubleman (Soundtrack)' underneath other recent additions to his 'To do' list, such as Rocky (Rocky II?),The West Wing (TV Series) and Thai Food.
His phone trilled to alert him to a message. Taking it out, he read: MISSION ALERT. EXTRACTION IMMINENT. MEET AT THE CURB. :)
"All right, Sam," Steve said, tucking his phone away. "Duty calls. Thanks for the run – if that's what you wanna call running," he added playfully mocking.
"Oh, that's how it is?" Sam chuckled, shaking the proffered hand.
"Oh, that's how it is," Steve confirmed with a grin.
"Any time you and your fiancée want to stop by the VA and make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know," Sam suggested.
Steve smiled. "I'll keep it in mind."
A black sports car pulled up behind him, the window rolling down to reveal Natasha at the wheel.
"Hey, fellas," she called. "Either of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil."
"That's hilarious," Steve replied dryly as he walked over to the car and got in.
Sam squatted down, giving both the car and Natasha an appreciative look. "How you doing?" he said to her.
"Hey," she replied simply, with a small twist of her lips.
"You can't run everywhere," Steve pointed out.
"No, you can't," Sam said admiringly. Natasha rolled the window up again and they pulled off into the traffic.
"Are we heading to Base?" Steve asked.
"Not yet," Natasha replied. "We've got to pick someone else up first."
Steve looked around the two-seat Corvette in surprise. "But – "
"Don't worry, she'll fit; she's small," Natasha added, pulling over next to a jogging figure that Steve would recognise anywhere. "See?"
When Hermione didn't stop running, Natasha revved the engine loudly and made the car crawl along next to her.
"Hey," Steve called as the window lowered. Hermione spared him a glance but kept on task, her ponytail bobbing along behind her.
"Sitrep?" she panted, obviously not wanting to waste breath or energy in using more words than she needed to find out the current situation.
"Mission time," Natasha called. "They want all three of us."
Hermione finally came to a stumbling halt and bent over, hands on her thighs as she gasped for air. She looked up questioningly at Natasha, switched her gaze to Steve and then back to Natasha. "But, we don't…" She made a gesture between herself and him, too out of breath to finish the rest of her sentence but he and Natasha knew what she was referring to. Since she and Steve had become a couple, Fury had seen to it that they never worked the same assignments. Either the Director had had a change of heart or there was a rather dire situation going on somewhere.
"I'm just following orders," Natasha replied calmly. "Get in, let's go."
Hermione stood, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. "But I'm such a mess," she protested, cheeks still blowing. "Can't I meet you there?"
Natasha's eyes narrowed and a smirk tugged at her lips. "Quinjet MD4, hangar C. If you arrive there even a second after we do, I get Steve's flying motorcycle for a week."
"Hey!" he objected.
"Deal," Hermione agreed shortly.
"Don't I get a say in this?" Steve asked, looking between the two women who were sizing each other up.
"No," they chorused.
Natasha floored the throttle, shooting them into the road. "Woah!" he gasped, clutching his seat tightly as she swerved through the traffic, narrowly avoiding other vehicles and pedestrians too. "It doesn't matter how many innocent civilians you nearly kill, you're still going to lose," he pointed out, trying to make his voice sound less strained.
"Don't try and sabotage me," she muttered, mounting the kerb to overtake a small queue of stationary traffic.
"You're going to get us arrested," he claimed.
"Shut up, Rogers."
He almost offered to let her have a week with the motorcycle anyway, just so she'd stop the dangerous driving, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to trust Natasha with the prized possession after this hair-raising experience.
When they had to wait for the Corvette to get clearance to enter the Triskelion facility a few minutes later, she drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel and barked sharply at the security workers.
Hangar C was the one that was furthest away from them and Steve knew Natasha was cursing this misfortune, not that he thought it would make much of a difference. When they'd gotten as close to the quinjets as security would allow, she parked the car with a huge swerve and the tyres screeched violently. "Get out," she snapped. He did so with a roll of his eyes and followed her quick strides at a much more leisurely pace.
"Are you not going to run?" he called to her. "You look like you could use the workout." Her eyes flashed angrily at him over her shoulder.
"You're going to pay for that comment," she replied in a steely voice that didn't hold even a hint of humour.
"Oh, but it's all right for you to tell me that I had to get my haircut if I didn't want to look like a Rat Pack reject on my wedding?" he retorted.
"Yes, because your hairstyle was ridiculous and needed to be changed whereas I'm in perfect shape," Natasha said loftily. "And don't tell me that Hermione's not happier now that it no longer looks like her fiancé is impersonating her grandfather – she's just too polite to say anything."
Natasha jogged the last few steps to the lowered ramp of the quinjet and Steve did so too – just so he could see the look on Natasha's face when she saw that Hermione was already on board.
Brock Rumlow was at the far end of the jet with his back to them, talking to the pilots but, surprisingly, there was no one else there.
"Are you freaking kidding me?" Natasha said in delight, gaping around the jet. "You'd better hand that key over when we get back, Cap."
Rumlow turned at their voices, the change in his body position revealing a previously concealed brunette.
"Are you freaking kidding me?!" Natasha moaned and Hermione grinned toothily as she ambled towards them. She was already wearing her Sorceress suit and Steve recognised the familiar coconut scent of her body wash and hair products so she'd definitely showered even though her hair was dry.
"You two took your time," she said casually, the hem of her cloak swaying in the breeze. "I even managed to pick up some breakfast on the way." In one hand, she held up a porta-tray for takeaway coffees and, in the other, a cardboard box showed an array of fruits, yoghurts and pastries. Steve could see that, over Hermione's shoulder, Rumlow was already tucking into a croissant and sipping a coffee.
"I told you you'd lose," Steve reminded Natasha, grabbing a banana, a still-warm Danish and his labelled coffee. "Thanks, bao bei. I already love working with you."
He kissed Hermione's cheek as Natasha eyed the wares on offer coldly.
"I got your favourite," Hermione wheedled, giving the coffee tray a little wiggle. "Medium Caramel macchiato, skimmed milk, sugar free, extra-shot, extra-hot, extra-whip."
"Extra-high maintenance!" Steve scoffed at the ridiculous order.
Natasha sent him another cold look but she accepted the coffee with a sincere, "Thank you," to Hermione. The ramp closed behind them with a clang and Natasha's hands drifted over the food items. Her hand paused over a pain au chocolat and she looked up, sensing Steve's gaze. Her eyes hardened, obviously recalling his earlier joking comment regarding her fitness. "Bite me," she snapped, grabbing the pastry and taking a large mouthful.
A few minutes later, he and Natasha were also suited up and ready to be briefed on the mission. The three of them joined Rumlow around an interactive monitor as the quinjet sped them to their destination.
"The target is a mobile satellite launch platform: The Lemurian Star," Rumlow began, bringing up a couple of pictures of the vessel. "It was sending up their last payload when pirates took them, ninety-three minutes ago."
"Any demands?" Steve questioned.
"A billion and a half," Rumlow replied.
"Why so much?" Hermione asked, looking surprised.
"Because it's S.H.I.E.L.D's," he explained.
Steve glanced at the others with a look of frustrated comprehension. "So it's not off course, it's trespassing."
"I'm sure they have a good reason," Natasha replied coolly, not at all fazed.
"You know, I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor," Steve pointed out.
"Hey, if you want to sit this one out, I'm sure that Hermione and I are perfectly capable of completing this assignment by ourselves," Natasha responded teasingly.
"How many pirates?" Hermione asked, refocusing their attention to the task at hand.
"Twenty-five, top mercs, led by this guy," Rumlow replied, bringing up a photo on the monitor. "Georges Batroc. Ex-TGSE, Action Division. He's at the top of Interpol's 'red notice'. Before the French demobilised him, he had thirty-six kill missions. This guy's got a rep for maximum casualties."
"Hostages?" Steve enquired, a plan beginning to form in his mind.
Rumlow tapped the monitor again, bringing up the details of the S.H.I.E.L.D workers. "Uh, mostly techs. One officer, Jasper Sitwell. They're in the galley."
Steve frowned. "What's Sitwell doing on a launch ship?" he muttered, but dismissed it as unimportant for the time being. He opened his mouth to start giving orders but then he glanced uncertainly at Hermione. "Do you want me to take the lead?"
"You're the one with the medically-advanced military brain, Captain," she pointed out simply.
"But you know what you're capable of far better than I do," he argued and Natasha let out a noisy sigh.
"Just give the orders, Rogers," she said impatiently.
After an affirming nod from Hermione, he said, "All right, Hermione, you and I will sweep the deck and take out any mercenaries we find. Then I'll locate Batroc. Nat, you kill the engines and wait for further instructions. Hermione, Rumlow, you sweep below, find the hostages. When the ship's secure, we'll get them to the life pods and get them out."
The three of them nodded at his instructions and they all spent a couple of minutes finalising their equipment. Steve sidled up next to Hermione while Natasha and Rumlow were discussing the ship's schematics. "Thoughts?" he whispered.
She shook her head, looking uncertain. "It doesn't make any sense," she replied lowly. "No offence, Steve, but I could easily do this mission on my own. I can't see any reason why Fury wants you and Nat along for the ride too."
"Because he's covering his back," Steve supplied grimly. "He can't afford for it to be known that a S.H.I.E.L.D ship has been hijacked doing something it doubtless shouldn't be."
Hermione shrugged. "Maybe," she agreed hesitantly and then shook her head. "I'm probably reading too much into it. Let's just take this opportunity to show Fury how professional we can be working together then he might team us up more."
"If you think you can take out twenty-five top mercs single-handed, I'm not sure what use you'd have for me on future ops!" he responded truthfully.
"I'm sure I'd find something for you to do," she said lightly, her eyes bright despite the gloom of the jet. "Maybe you could get the coffee next time."
"Sounds fair," he agreed. Despite their promise to act with professionalism, he still found his hand seeking out hers. "Just… Don't get complacent on me – this is still a dangerous op."
Hermione surveyed him impassively for a moment. "I'm not sure whether I'm insulted that you think I might carelessly endanger the lives of our team and the hostages, or if I'm touched that you're concerned for me."
"The second one?" he suggested hopefully, aware that he'd made one of his classic slip-ups.
"Hmmm," she hummed, still not looking particularly impressed. "You're lucky I've got my heart set on marrying you in less than two weeks."
A jolt of nervous excitement raced through his body, just as it did each time he realised how close their wedding day was. In truth, he and Hermione were actually having two wedding ceremonies – one with her magical friends in the UK and another in the States with their friends and select colleagues from S.H.I.E.L.D. One of the first things that had been established when he and Hermione had started planning the wedding was the necessity for the two parts of her life to be kept absolutely separate. Ever since he had learned the truth about witches and wizards, Hermione had been drilling into him how she could be sent to magical prison for the rest of her life if anyone else found out that she wasn't that unique. So it wasn't worth putting Tony Stark and Arthur Weasley in the same room just to make things less complicated for themselves. Her parents would be attending the UK-based wedding because Hermione didn't want them to know about the dangerous line of work she undertook on the other side of the Atlantic (or for her lie about her sorcery stemming from the line of females in her family to be unravelled when everyone saw that her mother was completely non-magical).
Both ceremonies would be rather small affairs as neither he nor Hermione wanted to attract a lot of attention to themselves. Hermione had been very busy over the last few months organising the simultaneous weddings and he'd had no idea how many hundreds of little decisions needed to be made to make the days run as they wanted. Two large, elaborate wedding charts were displayed and constantly monitored in her apartment and Steve did his best to avoid going anywhere near them. He didn't tell Hermione (because he knew she wouldn't appreciate hearing it) but as long as the end of their weddings resulted in him vowed in front of the eyes of God to be Hermione's husband for the rest of his life, he would be more than happy.
"And speaking of our wedding," Hermione added, "stop antagonising Natasha. I'm sure I can still convince her to be a bridesmaid."
"Not going to happen, Granger," Natasha called from the other side of the jet as she fiddled with her earpiece.
A few minutes later, Rumlow announced that they were coming up on the drop zone and Steve pressed the button to open the back of the jet. Hermione exchanged her traditional, good luck fist bump with Brock, before disillusioning herself and walking to the edge of the ramp with Steve.
"See you two down there!" she yelled over the noise of the wind as Brock and Natasha rechecked their parachutes for the last time. She squeezed Steve's hand for a moment to let him know she was ready and they jumped out of the jet.
Hermione let herself freefall until she emerged beneath the clouds. She spotted the ship below them and let gravity take her a bit closer before using her flight-apparation to get onto the main deck. Quickly, she flew around the level, stunning every pirate she came across. All of them hit the floor before they knew anything was wrong and the sound of the ocean lapping against the hull of the boat was enough to mask any noise they made as they fell. She looped round the outer parts of the ship twice more to check for any mercenaries she might have missed and only just managed to stop herself from stunning Steve as he appeared on the deck after his brief dip in the ocean.
Hermione came to a stop a few feet away from him while he peered down at one of the pirates she'd left immobile on the floor. "Deck cleared and no sign of Batroc," she said behind him. He turned, forgetting that he couldn't see her properly. "I thought about leaving you a pirate or two so you wouldn't feel left out, but we wouldn't want me to get complacent, would we?" she teased. Steve silently cursed his stupid mouth – he should've known he hadn't heard the last of that remark. "I'll rendezvous with Brock and then let you know when I'm in position to free the hostages," she said calmly.
"Agreed," he replied, though he had no clue whether she was still there to hear him. "Main deck clear," Steve said into his radio so both Rumlow and Natasha could hear him. "Proceed as planned."
The others confirmed the orders in his ear as they parachuted down to the boat. Steve stealthily made his way to the control room, expecting this to be Batroc's location. He got as close to the room as he could without giving away his position and launched a listening device at the window. Then he pulled back to a more secluded part of the ship to await updates from the rest of his team.
Hermione, meanwhile, was using her x-ray potion to determine the number of pirates guarding the hostages in the galley. There were plenty of obstructions on the other side of the locked, thick door to make it difficult to tell for sure. Brock stood next to her, armed and prepared in case they should be unexpectedly interrupted. They could hear a rather agitated voice coming from the galley and Hermione's French was good enough to know that this particular pirate was very keen on shooting one of the hostages. The forcefulness of his tone rushed Hermione more than she would've liked.
"Targets acquired," she whispered to Steve.
There was a sudden bang on the door that separated them from the galley and a shout of, "Hey!" in the rough voice of the angry pirate. Hermione looked at Brock in alarm as the man continued to talk through the door to the mercenary he believed to be on the other side."Trouver Batroc. Si je ne rien entendu en deux minutes, je commence à les tuer!"
Before the pirate had even said three words, Brock signalled and mouthed for her to go – they couldn't afford to let the pirates know they weren't alone. Hermione cancelled the x-ray potion and apparated to the galley, immediately taking flight. She stunned the other pirates so quickly that the first hadn't even hit the ground before they had each been hit by the red spell.
The angry pirate hadn't heard the commotion as he'd been banging on the door to try and get a response from the other side. Hermione came to a stop behind him and stunned him in the back. She leant over his prone figure to rap smartly on the door to Brock. "All clear here," she called. "Pass it on to Steve."
Walking back towards the somewhat surprised hostages, she undid the disillusionment charm to reassure them that they were in safe hands but also pulled her hood lower over her face. "Until we can be sure the ship is clear of hostiles, it will be far safer to leave you in here," she explained clearly and calmly. "I'll take these men with me and add some protective spells of my own to ensure that none of the others will be able to come back in." She pointed her wand at the plastic cord that was tied around the nearest hostage's ankles and spelled it apart, doing the same with the one around his wrists. "Help each other," she instructed, handing down a couple of kitchen knives from the shelf. "Be ready to leave when I get back."
While Hermione summoned the unconscious pirates into a lumpy pile, the hostages busied themselves by cutting each other free.
"Engine room secure," Natasha's voice spoke in her ear.
"Status update, Hermione," Steve ordered.
She grabbed a shoe from one of the pirates and transformed it into a portkey. "I'm just sending a bunch of mercenaries to the S.H.I.E.L.D base as agreed," she replied, making sure that each of the pirates was attached to a part of the shoe. She initiated the spell and watched as they disappeared in a burst of light. "The hostages are all accounted for and will be ready to move when given the order."
"Good," Steve replied. "I'm going to take out Batroc; you three check the lower decks for remaining hostiles so we can extract the hostages."
Hermione apparated back to Brock. "You ready to go?" he asked.
"I just need to lock them in," she answered, performing a couple of warding spells. She doubted that any of the pirates would come back here because they were far more likely to try and save their own skins, but she wasn't about to put the hostages' lives at risk.
She nodded at Brock to show that she was ready. "Romanoff, you finish sweeping your level," he instructed, talking into his radio. "I'll take this one and Granger the deck above." He paused and then frowned. "No response," he muttered.
Hermione tried to contact Natasha on her own radio but had the same response. "I'll cover her floor as well," she suggested, "and meet you up top."
He nodded his agreement and they went their separate ways; Hermione flying quickly between the decks for a sight of mercenaries or Natasha. She completed her sweep of the engine deck first and found plenty of unmoving figures, none of which were Natasha.
"Batroc's on the move," Steve warned in her ear. "Confirm the hostages are secure."
"Confirmed," she replied, confident that not even the muscular Batroc could bypass her wards. "But we've lost contact with Natasha. There's no sign of her in the engine room."
Starting to feel jumpy, Hermione flew up two floors to carry out her final sweeps. She only came across a couple of anxious mercenaries and swiftly stunned them before coming to a rest high up on the main deck. She sensed movement out of the corner of her eye and turned, seeing Steve fighting with Batroc below her. She could see that Batroc was extremely skilled at hand-to-hand combat but he was still no match for Steve.
In a pause in their fight, Batroc spoke to him. Hermione couldn't hear what he said but she gaped in astonishment when Steve placed his shield on his back and threw his helmet to the side. What the hell was he playing at?!
They resumed their battle as Hermione silently seethed above them about Steve's hypocrisy. Admittedly, it wasn't even a closer affair this time, with Steve clearly still having the upper hand but it was more the principle of the matter. Steve knocked Batroc to the floor with an impressive somersault kick and then rushed the pirate through a metal door when he'd staggered to his feet.
Hermione apparated down to ground level in order to rendezvous with Brock. He appeared on the stairs below her a minute later. "I took out two mercs, but there was no sign of Romanoff," he said as he climbed.
Hermione opened her mouth, intending to reply the same, but the sound of an explosion not too far away cut her off. She ran towards the sound, wand raised. As she turned a corner, her heart leapt into her mouth because large flames were flickering in the doorway that Steve and Batroc had just knocked down.
"Steve?" she called tentatively into her radio.
She didn't hear whether he replied or not because an immensely powerful blow to her neck dropped her to the floor.
The flight back to DC was not a pleasant one.
Steve had been cross enough with Natasha for potentially jeopardising the mission by sneaking off to download S.H.I.E.L.D Intel to a flash drive before he found out that Batroc had taken out Hermione. His mood had not been improved by Rumlow stating that she almost certainly would have died had the hand that she'd held up to communicate on the radio not intercepted Batroc's blow. Rumlow had seen the whole thing from a few yards away as he, too, had hurried to the scene of the explosion. Brock had gone off in pursuit of Batroc and had managed to fire a couple of desperate shots at him but, unfortunately, he'd been unable to prevent the mercenary from getting away.
The guilty and concerned look on Natasha's face was not enough to cool Steve's anger as they waited for Hermione to regain consciousness. There was little else they could do for the time being, seeing as Hermione had magically sealed the hostages into the galley. He sent Rumlow off to relieve the various unconscious pirates of their weapons and make sure they were restrained should they happen to wake before they could be moved.
"Think you can manage the same without carrying out another secret side-mission?" he asked Natasha bitingly. The look in her eyes conveyed that she very much wanted to respond to his hostility but, uncharacteristically, she held her tongue.
Left alone with the unconscious Hermione, Steve realised that his ire truly lay with Fury for keeping Natasha's additional orders from the rest of the team. Secrecy like that was one of the reasons he wasn't overly fond of working with S.H.I.E.L.D. – especially when it put others at risk.
Hermione eventually stirred a few minutes later (much to Steve's relief), understandably groggy and in some pain due to the hand that had plainly been broken from its impact with Batroc's fist. Unfortunately, it was also the hand that she normally held her wand in, which made her task to fix it and summon appropriate potions from the pocket of her cape slightly awkward. Steve helped her the best he could, informing her of Natasha's duplicity as he unstoppered vials and applied anti-bruise salves.
"It's not her fault I got hurt," Hermione mumbled, wincing when she had to move her neck slightly.
"Isn't it?" he replied disbelievingly.
"I should've reapplied the disillusionment charm when I knew that Batroc was still at large," she pointed out croakily. "Which is ironic considering I was mad at you for being reckless in your fight with him."
Steve paused at the accusatory tone in her voice and then frowned when he realised that she was right – at least in terms of them being complacent. "But we should still know all the details of the mission; Nat shouldn't have kept that from us."
"She was just following orders," Hermione pointed out, giving the wand a few practice flicks in her unfamiliar hand.
"You wouldn't be saying that if it was one of the hostages who'd ended up hurt," he argued.
"Probably not," she sighed.
Silence settled between them for a few seconds and an uneasy feeling grew in Steve's stomach. "Would you have kept it from me?" he asked her.
Hermione glanced up at him. "If I'd been explicitly ordered to, yes."
Steve couldn't deny that he was hurt by her admission. "I see," he said lowly. "You would have lied to me."
"Don't be so dramatic," Hermione grumbled. "Not everything is black and white, Steve. I assume that Fury had a very good reason for keeping Natasha's extra detail a secret from us. And it wouldn't have been a lie, just an omission. They're different."
"Not in my book," he retorted, shaking his head. "I can't believe you would have deceived me like that; honesty has always been at the core of who we are to each other."
"You're mixing personal with professional," she warned.
"Yeah, I forgot that lying is an everyday part of your job."
"Of course it is!" she snapped. "And you are perfectly aware how much I loathe all the necessary deceptions in my life."
They gazed heatedly at each other for a moment until the sound of approaching footsteps drew their attention to the return of Rumlow and Natasha.
The hostages had soon been released from the galley after Hermione insisted to her colleagues that she was fine. Regardless of what she said, Steve still wanted to complete the mission as quickly as possible so she could be seen to.
And so, with Natasha's guilt over Hermione's run in with Batroc (despite Hermione's reassurances that she wasn't responsible), Steve's anger over Fury and Natasha's deception, and Hermione and Steve's frustration with each other, barely a word was spoken on the journey back to the Triskelion.
As soon as the jet touched down in the hangar they had only departed from a few hours previously, Steve lowered the ramp and made his way to Fury's office without a backwards glance at Natasha. Hermione had been coerced into apparating to the medical department as soon as the quinjet had brought them close enough and Steve intended to go see her after he'd paid a visit to Fury.
"You just can't stop yourself from lying, can you?" he called as he entered the Director's office.
"I didn't lie," Fury replied calmly, continuing to gaze out of the large office windows as he reclined in his chair with his back turned. "Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours."
"Which you didn't feel obliged to share," Steve said heatedly.
"I'm not obliged to do anything."
"The hostages' lives were put in danger," Steve pointed out, getting irked by the fact that Fury still hadn't turned around to look at him. "Hermione nearly died, Nick."
That finally got a reaction. "You and I both know that never should have happened regardless of Agent Romanoff's mission," Fury said lowly, sitting up straight in his chair and giving Steve a sharp look. "I sent the Sorceress and the greatest soldier in history to make sure those hostages were safe."
"Soldiers trust each other," Steve argued. "That's what makes it an army, not a bunch of guys running around, shooting guns."
Fury stood abruptly, placing his hands on the desk in front of him. "Last time I trusted someone I lost an eye." He paused and softened his tone. "Look, I didn't want you or Agent Granger doing something neither of you were comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything."
"I can't lead a mission when the people I'm leading have missions of their own," Steve maintained, refusing to back down.
"It's called compartmentalization," Fury justified. "Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all."
"Except you," Steve pointed out.
Fury regarded him for a moment. "And you're not keeping important secrets from me?"
Steve's brow creased. "What are you talking about?"
"Magic."
Steve pressed his lips together, unable to deny the accusation.
"I know Granger's told you more than she's ever let slip to me," Fury elaborated. "And that's some pretty hot intel you're sitting on. It could make a big difference to lives around the world."
"That's different," Steve insisted. "Those aren't my secrets to share."
"Well, you're wrong about me," Fury said after staring at him again. "Unlike you and Granger, I do share. I'm nice like that."
Fury typed something into the screen on his desk and then beckoned for Steve to follow him. As they walked into the elevator, Fury instructed it to take them down to Medical. When the doors reopened a few seconds later, Hermione stood expectantly on the other side.
"Get in," Fury instructed. "Insight Bay," he called to the elevator.
"Captain Rogers and Agent Granger do not have clearance for Project Insight," the machine replied.
"Director override: Fury, Nicholas J," he said.
"Confirmed."
The elevator resumed its descent and Hermione looked curiously between the two men. "Project Insight?" she inquired.
"You'll see," Fury replied brusquely.
Hermione nodded and chewed her lip nervously. "I'm sorry I screwed up this morning, sir," she said contritely. "It won't happen again."
"You don't have to apologise," Steve cut in. "It's as much his fault as anyone else's."
Hermione shot him an exasperated look. "Steve, drop it. I'm taking responsibility for my own actions. I don't need you to leap in and defend me!"
"I'm not doing it because you're my fiancée," he insisted. "I'd do the same for any member of my team."
"Will you two shut the hell up," Fury growled, glaring at them both. "Keep your domestics out of the workplace."
"Yes, sir," Hermione said instinctively. "Sorry, sir."
Steve frowned. He wished she wouldn't knuckle under to authority so easily.
The interior of the elevator grew darker and Steve realised that was because they had gone subterranean. A moment later, Hermione gasped, her eyes wide as she looked out of the glass windows. Steve turned to see what had amazed her so and quickly saw – they weren't exactly hard to miss. Three helicarriers, similar to the one they had been aboard when taking on Loki, sat next to each other in a huge landing bay.
Fury chuckled at their stunned silence.
"This is Project Insight," he said, once they had vacated the elevator and started a tour of the huge vessels that loomed above them, loaded with at least a dozen quinjets each. "Three next generation helicarriers, synced to a network of targeting satellites."
"Launched from the Lemurian Star," Steve added connecting the dots.
"Once we get them in the air, they never need to come down," Fury told them, "continuous suborbital flight, courtesy of our new repulsor engines."
"Tony?" Hermione questioned.
"Well, he had a few suggestions once he got an up-close look at our old turbines," Fury replied, motioning for them to ascend some stairs to get a closer view. "These new long range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles a minute," he said, pointing out the numerous firearms that were stationed all over the helicarriers. "The satellites can read a terrorist's DNA before he steps outside his spyhole. We're going to neutralise a lot of threats before they even happen."
"I thought the punishment usually came after the crime," Steve commented, aware that Hermione had gone very still next to him.
"This is wrong," she said lowly.
"I've got no reason to think that it will impact on the lives of those like you," Fury said quietly, even though there was no chance of them being overheard.
Hermione sent him a hard look. "You think that's what I'm worried about?" she asked sharply and then shook her head. "Morally, this goes against everything that I stand for. When you asked me to join S.H.I.E.L.D you said that I could save lives and that's what I thought we did here. You send me into those spyholes to apprehend those people humanely."
"But you're not enough," Fury argued. "You're not invincible as this morning clearly showed. So until you convince more people like yourself to step out of the shadows, we will protect the people of the world as we see fit."
"Who's 'we'?" Steve asked.
"After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis," Fury explained. "For once, we're way ahead of the curve."
"By holding a gun to everyone on Earth and calling it protection," Steve said bitterly.
"You know, I read those SSR files," Fury told him. "Greatest generation? You guys did some nasty stuff.
"Yeah, we compromised," Steve answered honestly. "Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well, but we did it so that people could be free. This isn't freedom, this is fear."
"You've kept this from me just like you did with your work with the Tesseract," Hermione accused, "because you knew I wouldn't like what you were doing."
Fury stood stiffly, drawing himself to his full height as he glared down at her. "You are a Level Seven agent and a highly valued asset to S.H.I.E.L.D but you do not get to decide how we operate. S.H.I.E.L.D takes the world as it is, not as we'd like it to be."
Hermione glowered furiously back at him. "If this is what the future of S.H.I.E.L.D entails, then maybe I don't want to be a part of it anymore!" She turned abruptly and retraced her path back down to the ground level. Steve retracted his earlier thought that Hermione was so easily swayed by authority. She was extremely respectful, yes, but when someone crossed a line, she wasn't about to stand by and take it.
"It's getting damn near time for you both to get with the program," Fury stated, not looking pleased with the way the conversation had played out.
"Don't hold your breath," Steve muttered and turned to catch up with Hermione.
A/N Hoped you liked! :D