What had begun for Steve as a one-weekend excursion to test new equipment became a weekly endeavor, over the next month, to empower Stark Tower and train once more as part of the Avengers. HYDRA, after the low blow it was dealt in late March, was recovering its strength. Members of the organization were crawling out of the woodwork, ready to avenge themselves. After all, though a great number of heads had been cut off, there were always more to take the place of the fallen. A number of odd occurrences began to spring up, attributed to them, including kidnapping, murder, and bombings in multiple cities. And they were hardly being secretive; indeed, they seemed to taunt local and international law enforcement with their symbol burnt into whatever buildings happened to be nearest to their attack.

People, grieved at their losses and incredulous at the suffering that was surfacing after months of quiet, were becoming outraged at the lack of effectiveness of their protectors. The Avengers, it seemed, had to reassemble, for the good of the world. With Thor returned to Earth, and the reallocation of Clint and Natasha to the main headquarters (he from southern Italy, she from Georgia—the state, not the country, surprisingly—and none too soon), the plan to ferret out the last of the strongholds of HYDRA was ready to unfold.

A little after September 1st, a full meeting was called, with every Avenger in the room for the first time in around two years. Their intentions were to make small hits, enough to draw out the main leaders and stem the violence. Tony revealed his intentions of removing the label of "Stark" from the tower, replacing it with one giant letter "A." As well as that, an "A" would be attached to all uniforms. Except, of course, for his armor. It would look tacky on the Iron Man suit. The advertisement, he proclaimed, could only do them good in the long run.

"And make us and this place the easiest targets for all bad guys out there, but hey, who am I to complain?" Clint muttered out the side of his mouth to his companions. Tony ignored him, instead going ahead with the idea of changing the alignment of his drones to make them a sort of on-call army. Maria Hill, present as Stark's new secretary, was able to acquire one of the old quinjets, along with nearly all of SHIELD's documents over the last several months, and spoke of repurposing it all for their needs. They needed all hands on deck to rebuild the team, and its defenses, from the ground up.

As such, a direct result of those efforts was that they would keep Steve out of D.C. for days at a time, averaging about three or four a week. Not that he had anything to do with the technical matters in the tower, as he left that for Bruce and Tony to sweat over, but he could train, study, and otherwise do the heavy lifting as needed. Repairs and upgrades needed a human hand, and he was willing to jump in. Often Thor would ask him to aid in his quest to rid the earth of the last of the frost monsters ("They spawn at an alarming rate, my friend, and the ones I had tracked to London came from one of the worst and wiliest sort," he'd confessed after returning from one long bout, to Steve's bemusement), or help him puzzle over the possible locations of Loki's staff. Obliging his partner, he felt himself falling back into the easy rhythm fighting and serving. In a strange way, it was almost comfortable.

Consequently, his time spent at home was precious, more so now that he actually had a girl to go home to. Ostensibly, he retained his room at Sam's house, though he was out more often than not. Holly didn't censure Steve when he did his duty, even if she wished he could stay at home instead. The closest she'd gotten to angry with him over his work was at the end of August, when he had to unceremoniously leave her at the house one night when Thor descended from the skies in an urgent attempt to find him. She had stared at the thunder god with no little awe, her mouth hanging open a little. If anything, the best descriptor for that event was "stunned." As he retrieved his shield and pressed a parting peck to her cheek, she'd shaken herself out of it, just telling him he owed her dinner when he got back. His reply was lost as Thor pulled him into the wayward beams, Holly's eyebrows nearly hitting her hairline as they went.

(Steve refused to travel that way ever again after that one incident. The lightning was one thing, but blasting through time and space while nearly getting his arm ripped out of the socket was another. He'd rather take his chances in a rickety biplane in the future.)

With the summer slipping into fall, and with the surge in Avenger activity, Holly found that public attention around her began to vamp up. Where once she could tread the streets of D.C. without a single person taking a second glance at her, she found it slightly unnerving to have people outright stare as she went through the aisles of the grocery store, or when she went out with Sarah and her new boyfriend Aaron, who was not a little impressed to meet her after discovering her famous significant other. At least he had the grace to not gawk. The rude questions about her relationship from strangers were a little more awkward (thus far, at least, nobody had asked for an autograph or a picture. Perhaps she gave off a "don't push your luck" vibe).

The important part to remember, as Sarah often reminded her, was to not worry about it. After all, worrying that public speculation about whether or not she and Steve were still an item was nothing compared to worrying that some fell beast from Mordor was going to rip his face off. Steve, having caught the tail end of that particular rant one afternoon, praised her for keeping her priorities straight, but that the creatures actually came from Jotunheim. Though they might be distant cousins, he'd remarked; she had nothing to say to that, eyes going wide and jaw snapping shut at the sincerity of his statement.

Still, she'd kept her head and her peace, her heart flip-flopping in her chest upon his arrivals and departures. When he did have to go, she just told him to come back to her in one piece. Or at the very least, not to get killed. The words were softened with a long kiss or two, and then she'd watch him drive off, arms folded tightly around her middle and her farewell grin belying the worry in her eyes.

It was rewarding to see the worry melt away when he returned, safe and relatively unharmed. It was worth it, coming back with a few scratches, to come home to her again. For she, in turn, felt happier when he was near. And safer, much safer, as a gnawing feeling of fear was building within her.

And evidently, she wasn't doing as good a job at hiding it as she'd thought.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked from the kitchen archway, watching her closely. It was near the end of September, and he'd managed to take a break from the tower for a long weekend. After dinner together, she'd elected to do the dishes that time, ushering him towards the living room. It gave her the opportunity to think, she'd said. Something seemed off about her demeanor for the night, though, and when she didn't return long after the water had stopped draining, he definitely suspected something was troubling her. He was determined to at least understand the cause. It was potentially dangerous territory that he was wading into, but he'd faced worse in his life.

Although, if she was upset, at least she didn't have access to a loaded gun, like Peggy. No matter what lessons Natasha had been giving her, she still did not carry one.

Turning to face him, she pulled herself out of her reverie, resting her hip against a counter. Her dark eyes cut away briefly, wondering whether or not to tell him. After all, Steve was very protective of those he cared about, and he had a damned good reason to be. She didn't want him to be needlessly concerned. Glancing back up, she saw that she had his full attention, and that he would most likely be quick to spot a fib. Better to be honest, then; less repercussions that way.

Drawing a deep breath, Holly murmured, "It's nothing. Just...a feeling. Every now and again, over the last couple of weeks, I've felt like I'm being watched."

An eyebrow quirked up, forcing her to clarify: "Not the 'curious public' kind of thing. I mean like being spied on."

Silence settled around them, with Steve stepping up to her and his demeanor going cold.

"Really." It wasn't a question, but she knew he would want more details than that.

"Yeah. When I go out, once in awhile, I get this nagging sense that someone is following me," she explained, pulling the ends of her sleeves over her hands and fiddling with them. "It's not consistent, and goes away fairly quickly. But I can't help it; I can't shake the idea that someone might be keeping an eye on me."

Reaching out, Steve took her hands and forced them to stop their ministrations. "Have you seen anybody tracking you, anything to back that up?"

She shook her head, looking rueful. "Nothing definite. A time or two, I thought I saw some guy in a dark hoodie watching me, but then again, a lot of guys wear hoodies, so I can't verify it. With people recognizing me now, staring happens more often. And that makes it worse: either whoever is watching me is far better at hiding in plain sight than I think, or I'm freaking out over nothing."

Snorting, she rolled her eyes at her own words.

"I feel like an idiot."

"You're not an idiot for thinking that," Steve told her, his gaze holding hers. Gut feelings, he knew, were right more often than not, and if Holly felt like she was being stalked... "But something happened today."

"Yes," she confessed. "Some guy sat on the bench across the street today, and I thought he looked really sketchy. He staring into the front windows of the store for over an hour. Hair tucked into a hood, sunglasses on, just sitting there. I hid out in my office for awhile, but when I came out he was still there. Hadn't moved an inch. I glared him down, which I'm not proud of, but he didn't react. And then after I got distracted for a moment, I looked back and he was gone. Just disappeared."

A grin twisted out of her grimace, allowing her to find a way out of the conversational mire she'd brought them both into. "And out of the three people I know who can move that fast, one is too conspicuous, one is too female, and the other, well, I doubt he would have stayed on the bench for too long knowing I was there."

Guessing where she was going with the statement, Steve allowed himself to be distracted. "Oh, really?"

Tossing her hair airily, she replied, "He couldn't have resisted my charm for that long."

He chuckled, the self-deprecating sting she'd applied to her words brushed aside. "Confident about that?"

In answer, she leaned forward, pulling her hands out of his and sliding them up to his shoulders. His gentle grip on her waist brought her closer, his blue eyes darkening at her touch. Rising on the balls of her feet, her mouth ghosted over his, her breath sending a shiver down his spine. Being near him, with him, made her feel so much, and she wanted the good to override the nagging in the back of her mind.

"Yes."

A good deal of time followed after in which neither spoke, their lips becoming otherwise engaged. They gave into the moment, all other thoughts and sounds save for the thumping of their hearts and sharp breathing fading away. He was getting better, much better, Holly noted warmly, her lips parted by the smooth slide of his tongue. A low moan came from the back of her throat, which he took as encouragement. No talking, no thinking, she just wanted this.

However, it wasn't long until Steve wanted to get back to the matter at hand, even if it was a struggle to do so. Pulling away, he took a moment to steady himself, resting his forehead against hers briefly. The trembling of her body nearly broke his concentration again, but he forced himself past it. It was too important to put to one side.

"Back to the point," he said, standing straight but not relinquishing his hold on her, "I think I'll get in touch with Tony, see if he can supply anything as far security goes for your apartment."

She bit her lip, hesitant to ask favors from someone who didn't even know her personally. She was ready to kick herself for not having something better in place already. Stupid mistake to make, even if this was nothing, she thought. "Okay."

"And definitely keep the bat with you as much as you can."

Holly gave a little hum of agreement. "And the taser. That thing lives in my purse now."

Both of them were thankful that Natasha had come through on that one. However, she did take the time to inform them both that all her favors on both sides of the globe had been called in; next time, they would have to pay her a fee for her services, serious despite the cheeky grin that accompanied the statement.

"Right." With one arm wrapping around her, Steve guided her out of the kitchen and into the living room, ready to make the calls necessary for improving her safety.

"Doesn't make me feel much better, but it's helping."

As they settled on the couch, he inquired, "And what would make you feel better?"

Biting her lip, she took quite a long time to answer. Idly, Steve wondered if he should've just called Tony in the interim, given how long she was pondering the question.

"Will you stay over tonight?" she blurted, her expression wary. He blinked at her bluntness. "Please?"

'Oh, if I could go back in time and tell my past self that this was going to happen...' Steve mused, the little guy deep down nearly turning cartwheels. In the two months that they'd been together, neither had as of yet stayed over for the night. Out of a sense of propriety and respect, Steve hadn't ever insisted on it, and Holly didn't want to push him into something that would make him uncomfortable. Even if it was getting more and more intolerable to watch him go at the end of an evening.

But now, well, things, were a little different than they were two months ago. And if it would make her feel better to stay, then...

"I can do that," Steve managed to say after a couple minutes. Awkwardly, he attempted to salute her. "Captain America, at your service."

Her mouth curved into a small smile as she hugged him tightly in thanks. "Funny, but I think I would prefer Steve Rogers."

He didn't quite know what to say to that, rather he hugged her back and just shot her his half-grin when she moved away, pulling up her laptop and handing him his phone to make his calls.

xXxXxXx

At ten o'clock, Holly's jaw nearly cracked on the yawn she couldn't hold in. A long day at work completed with anxiety and frustration had taken a bit out of her. The fact that she'd woken up too early, well before her alarm went off, didn't help matters either. A pair of hands reached over, tugging the laptop carefully out of her grasp.

"When your jaw unhinges for a yawn, it's time to call it a night," Steve muttered, closing the device and setting it neatly on the coffee table. "C'mon, now."

"Yes, Mom," she mumbled in response, waking up a little as she got up, trotting towards the bathroom to brush her teeth. A couple of nervous butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the idea of Steve spending the night, and she had to balance her hands on the bowl of the sink to steady herself. She chastised herself, her paranoia getting the better of her and only that inducing her to ask him to stay, but she pushed the thoughts away. There was already enough to dwell on, and piling on definitely wouldn't help.

After rinsing out her mouth and changing into a tank top and sleep shorts, she padded back out to the living room to make sure the front door was locked and bolted. She stopped short, seeing Steve grab a blanket from the hall closet and settle it on the couch.

"What are you doing?" she asked, the words out before she could stop herself.

Steve, unaware that he did anything wrong, paused. He gestured at the sofa, a curious look on his face. "I was, I was just..."

Outwardly, she struggled hard not to giggle a little as she made her way to the door for inspection.

"Am I really going to have to beg my boyfriend to sleep with me?"

A sharp grunt greeted her ears, and she fought even harder to keep the smile off her face when she came returned to the room. The expression he sported was a cross between incredulity and surprise, like he was a kid in a candy store and was just told he could take whatever he wanted, free of charge. My, how things had changed since his time, she mused silently, finding the situation sweet as well as humorous.

He scratched his neck, not quite meeting her eye line. "Holly—"

Suddenly afraid that she might have pushed him too far, she cut him off swiftly. "Just sleep, I promise. I'd feel safer, with you in the same room. I know that things are...well, I know that it's not time yet to...Not that I don't care about you, but I do, which is why I don't want to yet. And I'm not ready to, either so—"

"Doll, you're rambling."

'True enough. Way to go, you moron,' her brain shouted, and it was her turn to look away.

"And you didn't give me a chance to say yes or no."

Tugging on the hem of her shirt, she sighed quietly. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's all right," he replied. Bracing herself for the negative, she thought she had been mistaken in her hearing when he spoke up again. "I'll, uh, follow you straightaway."

And he did, grabbing his shield from where it rested and his heavier footfall pattering behind her as she led the way, taking his hand as they went. The bedroom walls were a light green color, washed with lamplight. A few framed photos were on the walls, as well as a framed poster of the Eiffel Tower. The bedspread was a shade of green so dark it was almost gray, the whole of the room a visual contrast to his own sparse room back at the house. This was a bit more homey, his shield looking a bit out of place as he settled it beside the nightstand.

There wasn't much she could do in regards to sleepwear for him, though she was able to find a pair of old basketball shorts her brother had left behind when he visited a couple years ago. He'd gone out of the room and changed, returning to set his jeans and overshirt on top of her dresser along the opposite wall. Holly had already crawled into bed, on the side furthest from the door, and was watching him as he stepped gingerly up to his side. Sitting down carefully, he tried to find his tongue to speak.

Though he'd gladly agreed to stay, and was actually more than willing to share the bed with her, it was still something of a big deal for him. This relationship held a lot of firsts for him, and this was yet another one. He wanted to tell her that, wanted to let her know this was another step for him, but he couldn't do more than look at her over his shoulder, her head tilting to the side and her eyes blinking sleepily.

"Steve?" Her voice was slightly gravelly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"You can lay down. It's not gonna bite ya." For emphasis, Holly thumped her hand on the bed, a small smirk gracing her mouth. Her hooded gaze and hair tumbling around her face, her body swathed in sheets, painted quite a picture. There wasn't a part of it he didn't like, making fire sprint through his veins. He snorted at his behavior in that moment, rising to turn the sheets back and climb in.

"Yeah, no, I know."

Switching off the lamp, he was only allowed a few seconds to feel like a fool before a gentle peck grazed his temple.

"Good night, Steve."

Well, that certainly made it a little better.

"Good night."

Staring at the ceiling in the dark, he wasn't quite sure how much time had passed as he heard Holly's tempered breathing. Propping himself up on his elbow, he could just make out her curled up form facing away from him, her fingers slipping quietly as she picked at the comforter.

"You're still worrying about it, aren't you?" he sighed. In truth, he was, too, but he knew she couldn't operate as well as he could on a mind full of thought and no sleep the next morning. A lifetime habit of borrowing trouble wasn't easily broken.

She snickered humorlessly. "Can't really turn my brain off."

It was something he didn't even need to think about. Shuffling over, he pulled her tightly against him, tucking his arm around her waist. Extending his other arm above her head helped alleviate the pressure.

"That help at all?"

Her hand slid over his, sweeping over his skin tenderly. A deep sigh of contentment reached his ears.

"Considerably." A pause, and then: "Thank you, for staying."

Brushing it off, his eyes slowly, tiredly flicked shut. It was something she didn't have to thank him for, he'd have to remember to tell her that in the morning. Maybe her suspicions were nothing, maybe not. Tony suggested a few things for Holly's apartment security, he'd see to it. They both would. He didn't want to lose her. He couldn't.

If, at worst, HYDRA was targeting his girl, he would make them sorry they ever even thought about it.

"My pleasure."

Before he slipped into the depths of sleep, he heard her distant giggle. "I'm sure."

xXxXxXx

Cold. It felt cold, on the nape of his neck. Hackles were rising, something digging into his skin. Coming out of his slumber, he was barely coherent of anything but the cold, and the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Get up."

At once, Steve's eyes snapped open. He knew that voice, knew whose cold, metal fingers were gripping him by the scruff. The looming figure in the dark moved closer, shaking him.

"Get up," Bucky's voice hissed, the authority of the Winter Soldier bleeding through. Bewildered, Steve's hands curled into fists, knotting up the empty sheets to his side. Empty...

Holly was gone.

Immediately, he shoved himself away from the mattress, chopping Bucky's metal arm at the wrist to make him let go. Something about the quickness of his movements must have alarmed his old friend, as he threw a jab at his face. Glancing off Steve's chin, it only served to infuriate him further, and the pair ultimately became locked in combat. There was hardly any time to talk, or even figure out what was really going on. Punches landed on his gut, his kidneys, and Steve got in a few kicks to Bucky's torso and legs, felling him much like he had done to both him and Sam in June. Steve was aiming to subdue him, to pin him down.

Bucky, as far he could tell, was there to take him down.

Steve needed to come out on top. He needed to know what he'd doing here, why he was here...what he'd done with Holly. His shield had long since been pushed away from his grasp, his opponent refuse to give him the ground to get it. Struggling against Bucky's iron grip, he broke away long enough only to be tackled to the bed. The fingers found purchase in his neck, his hands flying up to trying ripping them away. Air became limited, and he brought up a knee to hit his old friend in the hip. The grasp slackened, long enough for him to take a half breath.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he noted dully that he wasn't choking him hard enough to kill him.

"Listen, stop!" Bucky grumbled, not giving an inch. "I need you to—"

The overhead light flicked on, blinding both men for a moment. In that moment, Steve heard a whoosh of air, followed by the thud of contact of metal on skin. Cursing, Bucky slipped away, giving Steve the chance to breathe. Another thunk came hard on the heels of the first, and his vision cleared up enough to see Holly standing just behind Bucky, knuckles white after smashing the man in the side with her bat and her mouth twisted in fury.

The dangerous power of the Winter Soldier radiated through him, and Steve couldn't let him recover any further. Grabbing up the shield from where it had slipped under the bed, he brought the broadside down hard against Bucky's skull while he was busy glaring at the offending woman.

Within seconds, he crumpled to the ground, knocked out cold.

Here was the herald of Holly's nerves; Steve had no doubt Bucky was the one tailing his girlfriend for the last few weeks. But why? What was the point?

Why?

Unbelievable. That was all he could describe the entire situation as. Utterly unbelievable. Dropping the shield on the bedspread, Steve knelt down on the floor, feeling at the other man's neck for a pulse. It was steady enough, and he wasn't bleeding from the impact of the shield. Passing a hand over his face, he barely registered the bat being dropped and the rapid footsteps coming to his side.

"Are you okay?" Holly asked, sinking down and turning his chin so that he met her gaze. He nodded, his throat already throbbing from the near-death grip Bucky had had on it. Bruises wouldn't be far behind, same for his arms and legs. Otherwise, he felt okay. Scanning her over, he could see she was no worse for the wear, save that her eyes were filled with subdued fear. And the mottled red in her face had drained away. "...Is he dead?"

Steve shook his head, pulling a face as he took in a harsh breath. "No, just knocked out."

"Oh. Okay, then." For a moment, she waited, his head and heart pounding in the quiet. Lacing her fingers together, she attempted to get the shaking to stop, her own intake of air shallow. Soon enough, she dared to ask the question circling through both their minds. "Now what?"

A/N: Hmm, now what indeed? ;)

What, you guys didn't think I'd let Bucky get away for good, did you? His arrival, purpose, and presence will be explained in the next chapter! For now, though, I'm tuckered out. I've been planning and altering this chapter for a LONG TIME. A really long time. And it has gone through some major revision from the original idea, let me tell you. And literally two nights ago, I figured out how to fix it once more. Holy cow.

I own nothing of the ideas borrowed from the MCU, including elements of Thor and Thor: The Dark World. Nor do I own anything from the minute mention of The Lord of the Rings. All those things belong to their respective owners.

All right, I'm going to take a minute and thank all of you, again, for your awesome reviews, followings, and favorites! I appreciate every single one of you taking even a moment to read this story, and I cannot express my gratitude more heartily for the words of encouragement and advice you all have given me. Truly, thank you all.

Alrighty then, I will see you all for the next chapter, then...