So I forced myself to write another sexytime scene, this one between Steve and Wanda. I hope it's halfway decent and in character. In other news, I'm writing something for the holiday season, so keep an eye out!

Steve went back into the sealed room where Wanda was recuperating. With blank white walls and no windows, it was an odd cross of a prison cell and laboratory.

"Please tell me you're doing better," he said.

"I wish it was so, Steve. My mind screams for Natasha, but gets nothing but silence. It's almost like the link has been severed."

"Physically or metaphorically?" Steve still didn't know the full extent of Wanda Maximoff's powers, and was still learning on a case by case basis. With at least another hour till California, he could afford to learn it.

"A little of both." She moved closer to the man she cared for, holding his powerful arms with his her gentle fingers, grasping only lightly. "I do not know how to say it. It is… was… like Pietro, but a little less devastating."

Steve honestly didn't know what to say. He'd already spent several minutes beforehand comforting Wanda over Natasha's "betrayal". Steve didn't like what Romanoff was doing either, but knew she had her reasons. Russia was the new boogeyman in town, and it was not good to be Russian right now.

Of course, none of this meant anything to Wanda, the enhanced Sokovian who'd lost everything and joined the Avengers to find a new meaning in life. Natasha had taken the young woman under her wing, training and preparing her for the realities of being a superhero. Wanda didn't think she could thank the older woman enough.

And what did she get? Betrayed at the first sign of trouble. Attacked with a Taser like she was some HYDRA operative.

"Natasha… it was nothing personal-"

Wanda suddenly grabbed his arms with more force than she had been. "Stop. Ignore her. Screw her. I want to forget it."

"How?" Steve had an uneasy feeling about what she had in mind.

"You know," she said, reading his mind instantly as she came in for a passionate kiss. It had been a while since the two had had this kind of time together, though it had never been taken to the next step.

"Are you sure?" asked Steve, always considerate. And to be fair, it would have been his first time having sex.

"Yes. Yes I am. I want to feel loved. I want you to feel it too. Can you do that?" She subtlely began to undress him of his white T-shirt, which hugged the lines of his muscles flawlessly.

"I'll try," replied Steve, still unsure of himself. Is this it? Is this the woman mom told me would love me for who I was in the inside? Steve asked himself this several times as he kissed Wanda again, stripping her of her clothes quickly. It would have been slower, but he could tell she had been waiting for this moment for a while now. Her breasts were fair sized, and easily fit in his willing and inexperienced hands.

Wanda knew he had much to learn. She, on the other hand, was not a virgin. At the age of nineteen, she'd had a romantic tryst with a boy who was spending the summer from Romania. He was young, fair haired, and everything one could hope for in a partner. Unfortunately, he had to return to his home country. She had tried to keep in touch, but thanks to yet another coup in Sokovia, she never had the time to. Too busy protesting government bullshit.

But that didn't matter anymore. Steve didn't need to know. She'd treat and love him all the same. Steve sighed in awe as Wanda moved herself down his body, kissing his seemingly godly body. She then unzipped his jeans and removed his boxers in quick order.

How very well endowed. Dr. Erskine had truly made the perfect man. And she would be the first to sample it. Lucky her.

It's been almost 70 years (he had a halfway encounter with a French prostitute that Bucky had tossed in his lap), but Steve managed to keep control of himself as she first licked, than engulfed, his member. He sighed again and groaned as he took the experience in, heart pounding faster and faster, coming ever closer to some inevitable conclusion.

When that conclusion came, it was overpowering, like a great tongue of fire. He looks into her eyes with the same look that he gave when he first got a good chance to lay eyes on her. "I love you," he said, not really being able to say anything else.

"As I know you do."

Sure, Steve's not completely naïve when it comes to sexuality and the female anatomy, but the way Wanda whines and squirms under him as they made love for the first time catches him off guard. From cupping her breasts to rocking himself, it was breathtaking, all-powerful. He knew that he was a big guy, and several times he paused to make sure she wasn't getting hurt in the process of finding pleasure. Only when she reassured him for the third time that she was fine did he begin to climax.

Given how fast and how swiftly things had gone, there had been no time for control. Ah, hell, thought Steve as he pounded hard enough to force his seed out of himself and into her. It had taken a lot of energy, but both Steve and Wanda were still relatively… well, not exhausted.

She really is beautiful. Steve delights in everything about Wanda: her dark flowing hair, bright eyes that one could gaze into for days, remarkably pristine skin, all of it put together in a nice figure without any real or noticeable flaws.

It's a sight he's yearned for, and now he got to see it in all its glory.

After Wanda pulls in him for another kiss, Steve asks her, "Are you better now."

"Yes. Yes, I am. You are an amazing man, Steve Rogers."

"I didn't do anything I couldn't. And it was you who asked."

She grins seductively. "Still, without your help, I wouldn't have forgotten-"

Wanda was interrupted by a knock at the door leading to the sealed room. Both of them take a moment to realize they've been making love on an aircraft, and lazily put on some clothes before Steve asked, "yes?"

"It's me, Bucky. We're almost in Los Angeles. And some man named Barton called, he gave an address." Bucky named some place in Beverly Hills; an address and room number.

"Got it." As Steve finished dressing and opened the door, Bucky looked at him in a funny way. It was then that Steve realized that he had what Natasha told him would be called a "hickey". He hesitated to think of something to say. "Well, umm…"

"It's fine. Really. You earned it."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

"I'd say saving my life multiple times over seventy years is merit enough."

Steve smiled. "Not nearly as many times you saved me in school." This made Steve happy; to see his old friend be truly a friend again. Steve had no idea about Bucky's time with the KGB and HYDRA, and was aware that he could snap again at any moment.

In their time talking, he didn't even notice that Wanda had quietly slipped out and into the cockpit. It was understandable; she'd never been to Los Angeles, let alone California.

"Bucky," said Steve, doing his best not to push any potential buttons, "what happened in Houston?"

Bucky immediately put his hands in his head, as if he was suffering from some sort of migraine. "Please, don't make me have to-"

"I won't." Steve didn't have to think very hard to know what might happen. He went back to the cockpit to stand behind Wanda as the Bus settled down in an airfield operated by Coulson's people. He rubbed her shoulders and kissed her head as they took in the LA skyline.

He was hers, and she was his. And everyone either knew it or would know it.


Doing their best to blend in with the celebrities and socialites that inhabited the streets of Beverly Hills, Steve, Wanda, Sam, Coulson, Skye, and Bucky walked in pairs to the hotel where Clint Barton was renting. According to Clint, Scott Lang was also supposed to arrive there, along with a good amount of his toys.

More than once the employees of the hotel made a curiosity inspection, but a simple flick of Wanda's fingers set them on their way. "It should work for at least thirty minutes, maybe a little longer," she said as she and Steve got in the elevator and headed to the sixth floor. "I never really got the chance to test myself on live people."

"Do your best," was Steve's optimistic reply as the elevator door opened and they headed to room 616. Inside were Coulson, Daisy, Bucky, and Sam, all who arrived beforehand. Also there were Clint and another man that Steve had never seen before. According to Sam, this was Scott Lang, who dubbed himself the "Ant-Man".

Scott got up out of his chair and began to enthusiastically shake Steve's hand. "Scot Lang," he said in an almost eerily gleeful voice. "I know you guys know a lot of super people, so thinks of thanking of me…sorry, meant thanks for thinking of me!"

"What's your dog in the fight?" said Sam, wanting to cut to the chase.

"I got a little girl. Almost lost her the hard way. If I have to register and be sent from one shithole to another in service, I can't protect her like I have for the past few months." Lang stared out more seriously into the window. "Also, the man who gave me this suit and his wife have no interest in having to work for another Stark. I think he knew Howard Stark. Never spoke well of him. No offense, Cap."

"None taken. Now, what can you do for us?"

"Oh boy," said Barton in an excited. "You need to check this shit out." Without warning, Barton threw an arrow in a second. Any other time or place, and it should have split Scott's skull in two. But in that split second, Scott pressed a button on his waist and he… well, disappeared.

"What the hell?!" exclaimed Daisy.

"Down here!" was the reply. It was very hard to hear, but it could be heard. The others gathered to see a miniaturized Scott Lang, about the size of an ant crawling next to him. "And this isn't the only thing I can do! I can get a lot bigger, but I don't want to bring the roof down on us."

Scott returned to normal size, then began pulling out a bunch of fake passports and cash from his pockets. "Hid these at miniature size. Figured we'd need them on our little journeys?"

"Journeys?"

"Get out of the country, maybe head to Canada, and then find out who's behind this mess." Scott's eyes turned to Bucky. "It wasn't you, right? That's who the news people keep saying it was.

"No."

"Ah, good." While Scott began going over details with Coulson and Sam, Steve turned his attentions to Clint. "You here for the same reasons as this Ant-Man?"

"Yep. I don't trust any registration act anyways. Stark actually sent me a nicely worded email trying to persuade me to join him. "Barton's phone buzzed, and he checked it briefly. "That would be the tenth time he tried to contact me. Persistent ass."

"Don't blame him, Clint. He's just doing his job."

"Except it's not a job for him," said Clint in a defensive tone. "He's doing it because he wants to, goddamnit."

"Maybe so. But he feels responsible for a lot that's gone down over the last two years, for better or worse. Best we can do is one day show him the error of his ways, going after his former friends like he has."

That didn't satisfy Barton, but he didn't say anything back either. His attentions turned to Wanda, sitting on a recliner.

"You ok?" he asked her. Having made love to her for the first time just hours before, Steve found small talk incredibly difficult.

"They're coming," she said suddenly, and without warning, a police officer kicked down the door. "LAPD! Put your hands-"

The unlucky officer was thrown out of the room by Daisy. "How the hell did they find us?!" she asked angrily.

Steve didn't know. There wasn't an informant in their group, was there? "Alright, let's get-"

"More in the stairs!" yelled Sam, who was running down the hall from the ice machine. "LAPD SWAT, by the looks of it. Like they knew we were all here for the picking."

Steve looked into both sides of the hallway. SWAT teams were indeed storming the floor, methodically checking each section of the hallway for their targets.

"Fuck this," said Bucky suddenly, running towards a window in the hotel room. "I'm not going back." The window shattered with a great crash, and Bucky began attempting to control his descent down towards the street. Steve wouldn't have done it, but it was a way out. Besides, everyone in the hotel would have been alerted by this point. No point in trying to maintain anonymity.

"Wanda, grab Coulson," yelled Steve as he took his shield and made another jump down into the street. This wasn't his first time: He'd had to do this out of the Triskelion elevator when Rumlow was sent to capture him. Thankfully, he landed fully on the shield when he came bouncing on the land below him. Bucky was to his right, while Barton was rappelling down via his bow and arrows. Sam, Wanda, and Coulson were on the adjacent rooftop, and could easily get down. As for Scott, he'd shrunken and taken a ride on Barton's shoulder.

But the escape was short lived. As soon as the others came down, at least fifty SWAT members surrounded them. They would have attacked, but their orders were obviously not to harm.

They then made way for three figures. One was clad in a blue and red suit, somewhat resembling a spider. The others were Tony Stark and James Rhodes.

"Sometimes I want to punch you in your perfect little teeth," said Stark.


Frank was awoken by the buzzing of his phone. He'd found a secluded enough tunnel to nap in for thirty minutes when duty called, again.

Thinking of you. There's someone sending a signal from the main dining hall of the castle. May want to check it out. MH

Nice of you to think of me, thought Frank as he recovered his senses and began moving down the tunnel. Always one mystery after the other, wasn't it?

If Frank was correct, this particular tunnel led to a room that served as the basement of the east wing of the castle. He'd spent two hours along getting her without complications. This had better have been worth it. Eventually he found what he was looking for: a secret door that led out of the tunnel and into the basement. Some sort of small mausoleum was in the center of the basement.

A closer inspection revealed Nordic style carvings, as well as various symbols of German nationalism and at least two HYDRA skulls-in-tentacles. Almost like a dual grave for Loki and Alexander Pierce. Another day, another time.

A ladder led to the dining hall. Peeking from below, Frank saw that it was massive, and there were at least five rows of computers and monitors, all centered on various parts of the world. The monitor of the signal Maria was talking about then got closer. And closer. And closer.

It was a man walking.

Frank checked to see that there was no one else in the vicinity, and then snatched the man, dragging him down to the basement of the castle. "Not a sound," warned Frank.

"Okay, okay…" The man's voice was definitely British, and he wasn't exactly hostile. "Shut up and put your back to the tomb."

The man complied.

"We're going to make this simple. You've been transmitting a signal that can be picked up by both CIA and former SHIELD frequencies."

"No, I haven't-"

"Yes you have. If I had a problem with your signal, you'd be dead by now. The fact you're still breathing should tell you something. And I don't have time to waste on you." Frank pulled out his gun and leveled it at the Englishman's forehead.

"Easy mate, here it is." The man pulled out from his back pocket a phone looking device that was clearly much more than a two way machine.

"Clever," said Frank, amused. "Yours?"

"No, my boss gave it to me."

And his name would be Phil Coulson, wouldn't it? "Fair enough, I'm going to put my gun away. What's your name?"

"Lance Hunter." Lance hadn't shaved in a week, and his eyes were red rimmed and baggy. That wasn't just from a lack of sleep, thought Frank. He'd clearly been under an immense amount of stress for a while.

"What's your job here?" asked Frank bluntly.

"You mean, what I do here, or what I do for SHIELD?"

"The latter."

"For the past few weeks, I've been feeding them information about Baron Helmut Zemo."

Frank felt like he'd just swallowed a ball of nails. "Say that name again."

"Baron Helmut Zemo?"

And suddenly a huge piece of the puzzle had been snapped into place.

A review would be nice, but just reading is good enough, I guess. Though I'll never know what you thought.