A/N Sorry this chapter's a bit late guys. I just wanted to pause on this story for a few days whilst I gathered my thoughts approaching Civil War - I actually have re-written several chapters after this one.

SHADOW

CHAPTER 36

I wake to the sound of my alarm at 5.30 AM. The crisp Autumn sunrise is somehow already slanting through my curtains, even though I've invested in heavy material so thick, they are practically black-out blinds. The rest of my bedroom is pleasantly shady and warm and I groan, burying my face into Bucky's neck, unwilling to move.

"I don't want to get up," I slur.

"Then don't," he mumbles back, his eyes still shut as if in sleep.

Despite his words, and despite how warm and comfy his body is against mine, I roll out of bed. I pull on my workout gear and then grab a slice of toast and coffee as sustenance. Before I leave the house I drop a kiss on Bucky's lips.

"I'll see you later," I murmur.

He makes a groggy, incoherent sound by way of reply and I smile.

I have to admit, DC looks beautiful as I drive to the river underneath the golden rising sun. Everything is fresher. Brighter. Or maybe I'm just noticing the freedom more because tomorrow is Monday and I will have work.

Never before have I thought about work in its most banal sense: a 9-5 desk job. I had to pay the rent, and I wasn't exactly going back to S.H.I.E.L.D any time soon. It's boring, and my co-workers can be infuriatingly obnoxious; I got referred to HR when I tried to break a dude's fingers for teasing me about being a spy. Apparently it's a colossal joke to them. But pencil-pushing isn't all bad. I have more time for a life – real hobbies. A relationship. I have yet to have a PTSD flare-up.

As I pull up at the boathouse where I keep my small one-man rowing boat, I amuse myself with wondering if the others have adopted new jobs in their down-time between saving the world. Clint has retired, and according to Natasha, Laura is due to have their third baby any day now. Natasha and Bruce have got engaged – and Nat phoned and asked if I wanted to be the maid of honour. Bucky had elected to stay with Steve in New York after Sokovia – something that surprised me until I remembered that Brooklyn was his home. Long-distance works for us. I drive to him every other weekend and he comes to me. Only Sam and I elected to come back to DC. Of everyone else, I have heard very little. I have no idea what Steve is up to; how Wanda is.

I push my boat off from the bank and climb in, stuffing my ear-phones in my ears as I do so. I dip my oars into the water and pull, beginning to row.

I guess everyone is living their own lives now.

I am still being watched by S.H.I.E.L.D, but I have accepted that this will perhaps always be the case. Sometimes I will look across the road whilst Bucky and I sit in a café and see a man in black sunglasses – sometimes I will be all-too aware of a car driving a little too close behind mine. It is forgettable though. Like turned down white-noise.

I arrive back at the boathouse a little over an hour later and splash out of the boat into the shallow water, dragging it up the bank. I'm panting and my face is red and sweaty from the exercise.

"Need some help?" an unmistakeable voice asks me.

I straighten up. "Steve?!" I ask, legitimately shocked. I feel like I'm experiencing reverse reincarnation – being sucked back into a life I'd forgotten I'd led. "What are you doing here?"

"Recruiting you."

I stand, dumb-struck, and his lips twitch slightly. "You okay there?"

I shake my head. "Just having a really bad case of Deja-vu." I privately think that the difference is this time I'm being 'recruited' under more cordial circumstances. Steve's lucky. Last time I punched Nick in the face.

He looks completely the same – though I wouldn't have expected him to physically change in 4 months, I feel as if there should be some difference to him. But he's still got the same old-fashioned, close-cropped haircut. Still wearing the same brown leather jacket. His hands are jammed into his pockets and he has the good-grace to look slightly chagrined that he has just appeared back in my life again out of nowhere.

I haul the boat further up the bank and then give it up as a bad job, letting it drop with a huff. I place my hands on my hips, trying to regain my breath and gather my thoughts. "Recruit me for what?" I ask, eventually.

"We're starting up a new Avengers team…Clint and Bruce have retired. Tony and Thor have got other problems. We've had a great run, but it's time for some fresh blood."

I smirk slightly. "Couldn't call it a day and get a mortgage like the rest of us?"

Steve squints at me against the sunlight. "Nah. Figured someone had to run the ship round here."

I nudge him in the side with my elbow, fishing my car keys out my jacket pocket. "C'mon, I'll take you back to my place."

As we drive back through DC, I question Steve a little more about his plan. Apparently they've got some kind of base built a little outside of New York. His plan is to gather Wanda, Bucky, Nat, Sam and myself together.

"Have you been to see her yet?" I ask, pulling into the multi-story car park next to my apartment block.

"Who?" Steve asks, jumping out the car after I park up.

"Nat."

"Are you kidding?" Steve says, smirking slightly. "This was all her idea."

Before I even let myself into my apartment, I can already smell bacon cooking. I open the door and chuck my keys and bag on the table, shooting Bucky a significant look as Steve follows me into the kitchen. He's frying bacon in a pan for breakfast – enough for three, I note – and I fold my arms.

"Did you know about this?" I ask him, as Bucky looks between me and Steve.

"Maybe," he replies, and I roll my eyes, settling myself down on a seat at the circular wooden table. As usual, my mother's weekly bouquet of flowers sit in a vase at the center.

"So…" I start, drumming my fingers against the wood. "How does Fury feel about a new set of Avengers? Are we independent of S.H.I.E.L.D now or what?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D provide us with information and targets, but we don't directly work under them, so - no," Steve replies, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"And the government are completely okay with an independent body of enhanced individuals?" I check, sceptically. I remember the uproar I started during my continent-hopping to find Bucky.

"Well – not all of us are enhanced."

I pull a face. "Shut up."

"I think the proposition went down a little better when they found out Stark, Thor and Banner weren't on the team. Less powerful people with their own agendas."

"So you just need me to fill your human quota, is that it?"

"We need you because you're a damn good fighter and you know how to work in a team."

"That's news to me," I mutter, accepting the plate of bacon and eggs that Bucky settles down in front of me.

Bucky moves to sit in the seat next to mine, but doesn't start on his food, instead he looks at Steve, his brow slightly furrowed. "What did they think about Wanda? Her powers –"

"She wants to save lives. She just wants to help," Steve interjects, firmly. "That's all it comes down to." He looks back at me, taking in my hesitation. "I thought you'd want to get back in the game, Alex."

"Oh, I do," I reply, through a mouthful of bacon. "If I have to file one more health-and-safety report I'm going to kill myself."

Steve somehow finds this hilarious. "You're a safety auditor?"

I raise an eyebrow, momentarily stopping chewing. "That's funny?"

Bucky coughs next to me and pats me in the knee. "Its fine, Alex."

"So….what's the problem?" Steve asks me, folding his arms.

I look at Bucky, and I know he's thinking what I am thinking. I have not heard anything from Ross in four months. Though I have seen my father, he has not mentioned anything about the new legislation they are trying to pass. Part of me wonders if the bill was killed at inception. Part of me wonders if I'm being deliberately kept out of the loop, so I can't warn my friends.

"There's not one," I reply, eventually. "We've just…got to keep our eye on the bigger picture with all this."

"What do you mean?"

I shrug enigmatically and Steve sighs, making as if to leave. "Right – well – hand in your resignation notice at work and get up to New York when you can." I pretend to salute and he rolls his eyes. "I'm gonna go see Sam."

"Is there any point? You know he'll say yes."

"It's – er – not about the Avengers. We're playing miniature golf."

I have to laugh at the inevitable bickering I know that will cause.

When Steve leaves the house, I collect my and Bucky's plates and wash them up in the sink. "I'm guessing you're not sitting this one out?" I throw over my shoulder at him.

It's weird. The more comfortable we get in our relationship, the less I feel like I've been able to read him as well. Maybe it's my own doubt and uncertainty getting in the way, but I have no idea when he's going to stay and when he's going to leave. There are still moments when I can tell he feels as if he made some kind of mistake – maybe he feels as if he doesn't deserve this life – and should have stayed away. He still has nightmares. There are times when he accidentally speaks to me in Russian. Sometimes I wonder if the Winter Soldier programme is really just a switch in his brain, or whether it's merely a dormant form of thinking. I know he worries that he'll panic in his sleep and hurt me; it took one hell of an argument to convince him he was over-reacting.

But this time Bucky comes up behind me and pressed his lips to the side of my neck. "How can I?" he mumbles, and I can feel him smirking slightly against my skin. "My girl can't keep out of the fight."

"Never can. Never will," I reply, turning in his arms and kissing him on the lips. My grin falters, however, when I look into his eyes. "I can't seem to walk away," I half-whisper, feeling vaguely vulnerable. It was the reason I always kept going back to S.H.I.E.L.D. The reason I went to Sokovia even though it triggered so many memories of Bulgaria.

"You could. You just don't want to."

"Maybe…what about you?"

"Me?"

"Can you walk away from all this?"

His grip tightens round my waist and he tucks my head underneath my chin as he hugs me. "I did once. I don't want to again," he mutters. But trusting his promises are hard when his intentions have no certainty.

A/N So I basically hit re-set on this story and took it back to the beginning haha. I wanted to give some of the character's fresh starts before hitting Civil War, so I hope the time-jump isn't too jarring.

Tell me what you think!

Last Of The Lilac Wine