"I don't see why we have to do this. The incense is a bit much innit? What if I was an asthmatic?" Kennedy complained, while her eyes were closed and her hands were resting on her knees. She and Strange were currently meditating, sticks of incense and candles burning beside them.

"You're not an asthmatic. I've read your file. You are defeating the purpose of this exercise," he replied slightly annoyed. She sniffed again curiously.

"Why are you burning sandalwood and nag champa together anyway?" she questioned. While she couldn't see, Strange's eyebrow shot up and he hummed with approval.

"You know your incense," he stated.

"I got some from Glastonbury some years ago. It's been ages."

"Yes, I've been there. Brilliant place. Now concentrate. We are trying to calm your energy." Kennedy shifted again, trying to half-heartedly take this session seriously. They've been like this for an hour. She supposed this was how Strange was taught; he never elaborated on how he became a master of the mystical arts. His past seemed like a touchy subject, but since they were going to spend some time together, she might as well.

"Was this a technique you learned?" she asked, her voice more relaxed than before.

"Stories will be exchanged later," he cut off gruffly. She wanted to roll her eyes; and people called her Sherlock Holmes?

"Now, I want you to picture something that takes your mind off the negative. A memory, perhaps. Something meaningful. An anchor. Picture it now." Her immediate thought was her Grumpy. She tried not to smile at the thought of his awkward little quirks, his curious head tilts, his attempted smiles, his touches. Despite his annoying characteristic of shouldering the world alone, he was still her Grumpy and that wasn't going to change. Her mind drifted to a day back in the HYDRA base, one that she wouldn't forget anytime soon. It was a Wednesday, and Tesla's mainframe wasn't built into existence yet.

…...

She went through her blueprints several times before deciding to proceed with outfitting. Her loose bun bounced up and down rigorously as her head jerked back and forth to music she played for herself in her head. An idea occurred to her; her computer was wired only for schematics and communication with the scientists and engineers. She could possibly get to someone's playlist in the building. Guards were human after all and bound to have iTunes. She typed away on the laptop and found a loophole after all. Ha, HYDRA guards, the most dangerous, yet incompetent men on the planet, were Apple consumers. Pretty hilarious. She scrolled through the variety of options until she found one of her favourite genres; 80s music. She patched it through to the speakers in the room that were normally used for announcements and Pierce's paedophilic voice giving her instructions. 'Your love' by the Outfield blared shamelessly and echoed loudly in the room.

I just wanna use your love tonight!

I don't wanna lose your love tonight!

Apparently she was singing it aloud, and before she knew it, she whipped her head back and forth to the music, spinning around madly in circles. HYDRA wasn't going to take this away from her. She could at least try to make the most of it, be happy for a little while. No one came barging in so she assumed that it was acceptable.

He had been watching her for some time; she was too busy enjoying herself to notice that he had returned from his briefing with Pierce. He was confused when he heard music coming from their room and opened the door only to find his white haired friend, jumping about and spinning wildly like a crazy person; it took a moment for him to realise that it was her version of dancing. He never heard such music, or any music before. HYDRA didn't give him that luxury. He found this sample too loud, the melodies strange, but the more he watched her, the more tolerant he became. He saw that it had a pleasant effect on her, which was way better than the second panic attack she had several days ago. He preferred her this way; happy.

Kennedy stopped dancing and saw Grumpy watching her curiously from the doorway, his hands behind his back as he observed her. She smiled brightly, not caring if her hair was a state coming out from her bun. She gestured for him to come to her, holding out her hand for him to take. His hand enveloped hers immediately. Whitney Houston's I Wanna Dance with Somebody came on.

"Please tell me HYDRA let you listen to some kind of music," she asked him, heaving from all the activity. He shook his head, not really bothered. She gawked at him but stood up straighter with an idea.

"You're going to dance with me. You probably don't know how, but you're going to dance with me," she said laughing, taking both of his hands in hers. She swayed a bit to get him moving. He moved along with her awkwardly, looking anywhere but at her, embarrassed.

"Come on, Grumpy. We might as well make the most of it. You're doing it," she encouraged, laughing. She bobbed a bit and kept smiling at him. Unbeknownst to him, she knew that whenever she smiled, he couldn't resist a little one of his own. It took effort but he managed one, trying to go along with her movements. As the song's chorus came on, he made some half-hearted movements which were little compared to her flamboyance. Surprisingly, as they still held hands, he took initiative to twirl her around a few times. She looked at him with delightful shock.

"Where'd you learn that?" she asked in astonishment. He looked down confused for a second and shrugged.

"I don't know," he answered. It didn't matter anyway; this moment did.

...

"Now open your eyes," Strange's voice resonated in her mind, pulling her back. She opened them and looked around, her gaze falling on him. She shrugged.

"I don't see anything," she told him dully. He chuckled slightly and his eyes gestured to the candles and incense near them.

"What the-" she started and trailed off. The candle's lights stood eerily still, no wind or movement making them flicker, but the weirdest part was the smoke. The smoke formed tiny balls which floated peacefully above their sticks.

"Your energy in the room was making them move about and drift. Now that you've found an anchor, your energy decided to tone down, not fluctuate. It's a happy something, I presume," Strange said. Kennedy looked down briefly and smiled.

"Yeah. It is," she nodded. Strange seemed pleased with the answer.

"Good. Now time for the exciting stuff." He stood up abruptly, snapping his fingers randomly and she cautiously followed. What was he doing? He took balls of brass from his large pockets and set them up in a perfectly straight row on the ground a few metres away.

"You are going to levitate these objects, aim at the target and send them flying," he stated, actually considering that she could do it. She scoffed and folded her arms.

"How? What if it goes straight through your head?" she asked defiantly.

"I am the Sorcerer Supreme, a master of the mystical arts. Don't think that I can't stop a small ball of metal," he clipped at her. Well, he did have a point.

"Now close your eyes and focus," he instructed patiently. She did as she was told, holding out her palm in line with the target. For five minutes she heard nothing and she huffed in frustration. As she spun around to face Strange and tell him off for his useless techniques, she yelped when a brass ball sped his way. Thankfully, his elegant hand stopped it mid-air, bringing it to a floating halt. If he were anyone else, they would have been in a coma by now.

"I think I know your problem," he said calmly before the ball dropped in his hand. Still recovering from her shock, her silence signalled him to continue.

"You think too much," he stated. It wasn't all bullshit; she did think too much. That was how her mind worked. Focusing solely one thing was difficult at times. All she saw were problems that needed to be fixed, numbers and such.

"Your anchor. Think about him." He dropped the ball in her hand and left without another word. She watched the object wordlessly and tried something new. She lay on her back and stared at the glass ceiling. Grumpy; was he doing ok? Were they ok? She didn't know what was going on with them, but she was sick of it. She just wanted them to be...ok. Was it her? However, they couldn't stay away from each other. They were each other's drugs, refusing to let go, always coming back to each other. She never had that before. Instead of dwelling on the negative, she thought of something positive; the future. What did it hold? She smiled and thought 'so many things.'

"You're thinking about your soldier, are you?" an Eastern European voice asked her. Kennedy's eyes opened; of course she was still here. She didn't go with the others. Kennedy wondered if she had done that on purpose, in order to get her alone. She sat up, surveying her sister cautiously as she sat across from her, but her expression remained somewhat polite. Wanda didn't deserve any harsh treatment since it wasn't her fault. Small talk was still a bit dodgy for her; it was a miracle for her and Banner. So she started with a confirming nod to answer her question. Wanda gave her a shy smile.

"He loves you," she said, sounding pleased that her sister had someone. Kennedy's head snapped up dramatically at the sound of that word. A few incoherent, bumbling phrases stumbled from her mouth. Wanda looked exceptionally entertained, however. Did Grumpy 'love' her? She knew he was capable of affection and intensity, but she wasn't sure if he knew the meaning. It was a huge step to say that to a person; she knew from experience that saying it too early meant pain.

"Think what you will, but he does. His mind is just as loud as yours." That didn't make things better, so Wanda backed off on the topic for now. Both of them settled into an awkward silence, their chests heavy with things they wanted to say to each other.

"Wanda, I-"

"Dania-" They both laughed nervously and Wanda gestured for her to go first.

"I'm not good at...processing these things. I'm sorry," was all she could say; quite a pathetic attempt at instigating a bond, especially with someone with whom you shared a freaking womb. Wanda nodded, as if she understood entirely. Was that some sort of thing that was installed in triplets? Interesting. As if sensing Kennedy's hesitancy, Wanda decided that she experienced enough surprises for the day. She stood and smiled again at her younger sister but paused, turning to face her.

"He's crazy about your legs, by the way," she giggled and left. Kennedy lay back on the mat with her interlocked hands behind her head and thought with satisfaction, 'I knew it.' With a sense of peace in mind, she jolted from her spot on the floor when she heard a loud bang. She looked up and saw the iron ball, sitting snugly in the bullseye.

…...

Everything was going to plan. The soldier didn't think there would be anymore security on this floor but lo and behold, there was. A radio obnoxiously blared that they had to make this recon count, that HYDRA was counting on them. To the soldier, that meant that they were the last team to close in on him. But this...this was not what he was anticipating. The bloodlust emerged a lot faster than before, his former self making an appearance again. He took them out like clockwork, bodies dropping one after one. He understood that there were casualties in war and conflict but questioned where it would end. After his work, he slid down the wall, their blood splattered on his horrified face. What scared him was that he wanted more, more revenge, more damage. He frantically searched for his satellite phone that she made for him and held it to his ear tightly.

"Patch me through Tesla," he demanded. He got a dialing tone and waited for an answer.

"Grumpy? Are you ok? What's going on?" Kennedy's worried voice asked. Just the sound, the pleasant and familiar sound sent a feeling of warmth through him. He closed his eyes and listened to her, calming his storm.

"I just...n-needed to hear your voice," he stuttered.

"I'm here. It's good to hear your voice too. Are you alright?" He paused. No! his mind screamed. His face became red as he couldn't bring himself to reply to her question.

"I just want to hear you talk. I need to hear you. Please?" His innocent request broke her; something happened and it was definitely connected to the previous mission. But he didn't need that now, he needed her.

Tesla buzzed him on another device and saw a message that he knew would appear eventually.

"We have to tell her," it said. As the soldier took in the mutilated bodies that littered the hallway floor, he agreed with the A.I.

A/N: IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT! Lol I hope you all read this. My friend and I were thinking of asking some of you guys who are artistic to send us some fan-art of Bucky and Kennedy (Cara Delevingne in my head) and we pick one to set as the story's profile picture. I would love to see your interpretations and perceptions of the story so don't hesitate to message me if you have ideas :) Thanks for reviewing and following! Hope you enjoyed the chapter.