When Steve returns later that evening I'm standing at the refrigerator, making myself a glass of water. "Look at that," Steve says, hanging his shield on a hook next to the door. "You're up without your cane."

"I am," I say, calmer than I expected. "The mail was brought about an hour or so ago and when I got up to answer the door, I left the cane behind without realizing it." Steve nods his head as he undoes the straps on his gloves. "Steve," I say, capturing his attention with my eerily calm tone. He picks up on it and looks at me with a concerned stare. "There's a letter on the coffee table that you need to read." Steve stares at me for a second longer before striding over to the coffee table in front of the couch. The letter was sitting, unfolded, where I had left it after reading it. I felt strangely calm, rationally I should probably be freaking out over the letter. I watch Steve as he picks up the letter. His eyes quickly scan it, that wrinkle in his forehead he gets when he gets angry growing more pronounced with every line. When he's finished reading it he looks up at me, at a loss for words. I sip at my water as we just stare at each other. After a minute, I finally speak up. "As much as I hate to admit it, I agree with him."

"Rhiannon," Steve briefly stares down at the letter again before starting to walk over towards me. "I can't just stop. He's my fa-"

"Family?" I finish. "I know Steve, but so am I. Look," I meet him halfway between the kitchen and the living room. "He's not completely writing you off. He's just telling you to back off; which I agree you should do. You have this whole new team you have to train, practically a new agency…they're looking towards you for leadership. If they see you running off chasing leads on someone who, in their eyes, is a former master assassin…that's not good." Steve lets out a sigh, looking down at the letter still in his hand. I knew though that I had said the right words to get through to him. I hadn't said them just to get him to do what I wanted, I sincerely meant them. Steve going after Bucky still scared the living daylights out of me. As much as it made my skin prickle to know that he knew where I had lived in New York, a small part of my brain was glad that Bucky had wrote the letter. Steve doesn't respond verbally, instead he nods his head. "You go get out of that suit. I'll start something for supper and you can finish."

Life at the new facility falls into an easy routine. A month after we had arrived, I was able to take the brace off my leg. Helen had officially decreed me healed; almost better than new, she had said right before I tackled her with a big hug. One thing I had realized I missed while my leg was healing was the training with Matt. I didn't want to train for the same reasons as before; I just generally missed the rush I felt from the exercise. This time though, I was going about it the right way. When I first proposed my request to Sam, in front of Steve so he knew all about it, he laughed at me. "Oh wait," he says, realizing that I wasn't laughing. "You're serious?"

"Yes I'm serious," I say. "I miss it. Plus, I need to do some sort of exercise to keep my leg in good shape."

"But why me?" Sam says, looking at Steve briefly before looking back at me. "There are plenty of-"

"I want you to do it Sam," I say. "I trust you. I think you would best for it."

Sam lets out a sigh as he places his hands on his hips and looks at Steve. "Got an opinion Cap?"

Steve briefly looks at me before turning and looking at Sam. "Be careful man," he says with a smile creeping onto his face. "What's the phrase? 'Though she be little she is fierce'." Sam just shakes his head in amusement as Steve jerks his head towards the door. "We've got a meeting with Stark in ten minutes."

"That's right," I say. "See you tomorrow morning." I throw back at him as me and Steve head towards the door.

Before they shut, Sam throws one last comment to me. "My alarm doesn't go off before eight…so don't expect any early mornings!"

Another new norm that settled in at the facility was weekly dinners with the team. It started out innocent enough; I had invited Sam once to Steve and I's apartment, a couple weeks later Wanda, and before I knew it Sam, Wanda, Natasha, and Tony and Rhodey when they were at the facility were at our apartment every Thursday for dinner. One particular week, Wanda had come over early to help me cook the dinner for that week. "You know where I grew up it would be considered at crime for never having ate fried chicken," I say to Wanda.

An eyebrow shoots up as she watches me scoop flour into a Ziploc bag. "I thought you moved around a lot?"

"True," I say with a shrug. "But the General was a Tennessee man; I was born there…so we called it home base." I pass her the bag and instruct her to season it to her liking. "Just use your instincts, it's not rocket science." Wanda nods her head once as she starts sprinkle in the seasonings a little at a time. I glance over at her as I pull apart the chicken. I had an ulterior motive for inviting her over early. "I don't think I've ever had the chance to thank you." She stops her work and looks at me, her eyes slightly wide. "Steve told me how you kept them updated during the surgery on my leg. You didn't have to do that…so thank you."

The enhanced human to my left lets out a sigh as she closes the bag and sets it on the counter. "Like I told them that day…someone deserved some good news."

Subconsciously I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the lump in my throat from forming. Wanda had lost the person closest to her that day, unfairly. "Steve mentioned you're doing very well in your training," I say. "But you know…if you ever need someone to talk to about something besides tactics and strategies, our door is open." I saw a kindred spirit in Wanda; both of us had lost all of our family unfairly at a young age. Wanda mutters a quiet thank you as I start placing the chicken in the flour bag. "Not literally of course though because of the security…so just send me a text or something first…" Wanda lets out the rare laugh as I hear Sam and Steve walk into the apartment.

"Aw man," Sam says as I walk into the medic bay. "Who told you?"

"It pays to be friendly with the interns Sam," I say, giving him a smirk. Apparently Sam had just had a run in with an intruder on the facility's property. "So what happened?"

Sam grumbles as the medic cleans some blood off a scrap on his forearm. "You can't tell Cap-"

"Are you kidding-"

"Some guy showed up…I don't know. He kept shrinking and growing." Sam shakes his head as my eyebrows mash together. "He made off with-"

"Woah, woah, woah," I say, holding a hand up. "Did you say 'shrinking and growing'?" Sam nods his head, looking at me warily. "I think I know who our visitor was…" I turn to walk out of the room but then stop, turning to look at Sam again. "Oh, yeah, you're okay right? Like physically okay?"

Sam smirks at me. "I'm good." I give him a thumbs-up before turning once again to leave the room. "Hey! Who was that guy?" he yells after me.

"Not sure, exactly," I answer him as I continue walking. "But I know who will know." Half an hour after finding the old phone number, I dial my old boss' number. When the call connects, I speak before the person on the other end can. "Hank Pym…who did you send to break into my house?"