Author's note: Mature content.


No more putting it off. He had to do it, so he may as well get it done. Plus, it was cold. If he pulled over to stop he could get a hot drink from his thermos. Steve put on his right turn signal so Russel, the security agent who was acting as chauffer for Pepper and the film crew, would know that he was pulling over. He gave Russel a hand signal to keep the large SUV far back on the shoulder of the highway. He wanted some privacy for this.

Steve took his time looking around at the countryside while he got his thermos from the bike's saddlebag and had a drink. The hot cocoa was great, almost a shocking heat against the early winter chill around him. He was the only fool to be found riding a motorcycle across the frosted roads of northern Minnesota.

It was worth the chill in his extremities for the view. Nordic-looking pine forest stretched on forever just outside of the tiny town of Bruno. The silent landscape was covered in a crisp, clean layer of new snow. The bright glare of sunshine on the snow made him glad he'd bought sunglasses in Minneapolis.

His other sunglasses from Texas were back in New York in the parking garage with his truck. His lips firmed in determination not to think of her but it was too late. His mind already went there. Steve had to forcefully pack away thoughts of Estrella. He needed to focus on his work here and have faith that Buck would look after her. Hell, he'd stopped to make this phone call, like she wanted him to. That was enough thinking about her for now.

A brown hawk shuffled its wings and looked at him from its roadside perch atop a power pole. Steve smiled at the reminder of Clint, who was still out on leave. His breath huffed billows of vapor into the chill air. When he was a little guy enduring the New York winters he'd never had the body heat or the lung capacity to make such a cloud of vapor. Odd, how a simple thing like a hot breath on a cold day could remind him of how much he'd changed.

He knew he was bullshitting himself, wasting time. The cold was no excuse for not texting Natasha. His fingers worked perfectly fine even when his core body temperature was ten degrees south of where it should be. The thermos went back in his bag and he got out his phone. He touched Nat's number from his short list of favorites.

Can you get me S Carter's personal number? I already have her business extension.

Nat replied by adding a new contact to his phone almost immediately. Steve's finger hovered over the new contact. Before he touched it he heard a vehicle coming. It was a quiet little two-lane highway. He waited for the vehicle to pass by, another excuse for a small delay.

In his rearview mirror he saw that it was a large black pickup truck overtaking them. The truck had a decorative license plate on the front bumper that proudly displayed the orange and black Harley Davidson logo. Steve stowed his phone away as he saw that the truck was slowing to stop beside him. His defensive instincts clamored in his mind but he saw through the window tint that there was an ordinary family in the vehicle. He made an at-ease gesture to Russel behind his back while the truck stopped beside him on the empty highway. The passenger side window went down and Steve smiled at a winter-bundled lady and her husband who leaned across the seat to see out of her window.

"Are you alright there, fella? How can you ride in November? Ya got anti-freeze in yer veins?" the guy asked in a classic Minnesotan accent.

"I'm fine. Looking forward to making a stop in Duluth for the night. Thanks for asking," Steve said.

He politely took off his sunglasses and slid his black leather cover off his head. It felt wrong to chat with friendly folks when he knew he looked intimidating. A second after his face was clear little hands were pounding on the inside of the rear passenger window of the truck. Calls of "Dad! Dad! Put down the window!" let Steve know he'd been recognized.

The driver looked at his kids in the back like they'd lost their minds until they exclaimed that it was Captain America on the roadside. He got off the bike and walked up beside the truck to chat with the kids. He signed his autograph for them on both a red and blue rubber boot and a road map. The wife looked dazzled and the man, Tucker, shook his hand. They exclaimed over how cold his hand was and once again asked him why on earth he was riding a bike in the north in November.

"I've got a little time between missions. Thought I'd get out and see the country. Cold doesn't bother me much," he explained to them.

After a few more minutes of friendly chat he waved the family on their way and got back on his bike. He marveled at being out in the countryside in a place so rural that folks just pulled over to talk to somebody stopped on the side of the road. In the time he'd been visiting with them, not another car had passed by. The highway in either direction was empty of traffic. No more putting it off this time, really. He touched the new contact that Nat had sent him and waited for the call to complete.

"Who's this?" asked the soft voice he remembered so clearly.

Even when she was being brief and business-like, he'd always thought her voice had a nice tone. Fury had probably thought of that when considering who to place on his security detail at his D.C. apartment.

"It's Rogers. I had Romanoff get your number for me. I hope you don't mind," Steve said.

"Captain. It's nice to hear from you. Can I help you with something?" Sharon asked.

"That's for you to decide. I could use a date. Tomorrow night, if that's good for you," he bravely forged ahead.

Sharon was quiet for a moment on the other end of the call. She took a breath like she was going to answer him immediately, but then she reconsidered. Steve's heart thudded a little faster. Sharon was an associate. She'd proven herself to be a loyal ally in a time of need. How would he pull this off smoothly if she turned him down? Crap! How could he stay professional after a negative response? Maybe he shouldn't have called Sharon. He should have started fulfilling Estrella's request with some nameless girl in a bar somewhere along the road. He shouldn't have-

"Time and place? What kind of gear should I bring? Will it be formal or should I dress down?" Sharon asked.

"I'll be in Duluth. I was thinking we could find a nice restaurant for dinner. You don't need any gear unless you expect trouble. Tell me what time you usually eat and I'll get you a flight," Steve offered.

"Business expense, Cap. I'll cover the flight and turn the receipt in. Duluth, Minnesota?" Sharon asked.

"It's not a business expense, Sharon. It's a date. For dinner," he corrected.

"Oh," she said, then "Oh!"

Steve chuckled.

"This is about as awkward as I imagined," he acknowledged the moment.

"If, if it's a date, actually a date, then I should tell you…" she paused.

"I already know, Sharon. I see your picture on Peggy's bedside table when I visit her. You're just a kid in the photo, but I can tell that it's you. Are you her grand-daughter?" Steve asked.

"No. She's my great-aunt. Um. If you're okay with that, then I guess I'm alright with it. I'm flexible on the time. I stay late at the office sometimes and other times… What works for you?" Sharon wondered.

Steve could tell by the tiny tremble in her voice that Sharon was nervous and excited. For once, he wasn't the one feeling anxious. It was a good feeling to be at ease but he wanted to reassure Sharon.

"I'll get you a flight for four tomorrow and send you the details. We could meet for dinner at seven? You've got my number. Call me when you get into town and we can talk about what we're in the mood for," Steve said.

"I'll look forward to seeing you, Captain," she answered.

"You won't be seeing the Captain, Sharon. Please. I'm Steve," he said with some confidence she would understand that he meant it.

"In that case, Steve, I'm really looking forward to seeing you," she said.

The call ended and he couldn't suppress a grin which felt like it would be right at home on Bucky's face. If he was going to do this dating thing, then he was going to do it right and make sure it looked real to anyone who might notice.

By the time Steve and the film crew drove into Duluth that afternoon Steve was ready for a workout. Darcy had arranged a nice hotel for them, far more comfortable than Steve would have required for himself. He wanted Pepper to be at ease while they travelled so he didn't comment about the unnecessary expense. Steve thought it looked odd to see a uniformed valet drive away on his bike but he kept his mouth shut about that too. One thing he did insist on was a room far away from the rest of his company. They had three suites on the fourth floor, south wing of the place and he had a room on the second floor to the north side.

He mentioned to Pepper that he was going out for a run but that he'd like to have dinner with her in the hotel restaurant. Darcy eyed him again before they parted ways in the hotel lobby. Steve ignored Darcy's gaze and Pepper called for her distracted assistant. Pep was taking care of both his wardrobe for the PR pieces and handling most of her work for Stark Industries so Steve couldn't begrudge her Darcy's help. She'd done a good job so far of arranging accommodations for them while they travelled. The food was good at the stops they made and he was thankful for that. For those reasons, he tolerated Darcy's somewhat teasing attention.

Steve was learning that you could tell the class of a hotel by its smell. There were the places where you didn't want to walk barefoot on the carpet and you didn't want to sleep in the beds, but you had no choice. There were the places that were alright and nothing was really out of place, but you wouldn't treat it like home by eating dropped food off the floor or drooling on the pillows. Then there were places like this. His room was pristine as if he was the only one who'd ever been there and the air smelled fresh, not artificially deodorized.

He secured himself inside and checked his phone for messages. Then he opened his suitcase and changed into his sweats to go for a run. His heavy biker leathers came off, as well as the black jeans and shirt. He slid his boots under the hassock and put on his running shoes. Just like being the only biker on the road in cold weather, nobody else would be out dressed like him, in only sweatpants and a shirt. He tucked his phone and room card into an inner pocket and went down to find a running path around the city of Duluth.

There was a lot of interesting stuff to see and he enjoyed the views along the shores of the lake. People bundled against the cold looked at him strangely and he smiled. Some folks recognized him and he stopped to visit with them and give his autograph. It reminded him of Estrella, but the more he scrawled the circle with the star in it and wrote "Cap", the more he got used to it being a publicity thing, and not directly related to his girl.

He had to stop so often to chat with people that he had to extend his run to twice as long to feel that he'd accomplished anything. After all day sitting on the bike he needed the physical activity or he would make the film crew nervous with his high-energy attitude.

Back at his room, he texted Pepper about meeting for dinner in a half hour.

Rosie had made the trip with him and was serving as a faithful companion. He took the toy into the shower with him and used it hard for twenty minutes. It was early in the evening yet. He hadn't heard anyone moving in the hotel rooms around his. Steve didn't bother with much vocal restraint when the warm water, slick soap, and Rosie's grip around him did what he needed it to do. Mental images of Estrella in that tiny beige string bikini had served as his fantasies for days now. He was still coming up with new ideas of what he could have done with her that day at the pool. What would she taste like if she would let him kiss her like he'd wanted to? He'd loved her flavor before. Trying to imagine what she'd be like while she was fertile never failed to send him over. Would her voice have a stronger effect on him if she took her necklace off?

Steve's toes were tingling with residual pleasure as he dressed nicely for dinner and went down to meet with Pep. He was never fully satisfied lately. All he could do was take the edge off so that he'd be a decent travel companion. Rosie would have to be enough for now. It's not like he had a choice.

Pepper was already seated in the hotel restaurant waiting for him. She was her usual elegant self, not at all frazzled from a day spent on the road. He apologized if she'd had to wait on him. She smiled and indicated her wine glass. Steve slid into the private booth.

She looked at him in the dim light from overhead, then wiggled the fingers of her free hand at him to get him to lean forward to the small lamp on their table.

"What?" Steve asked her.

"There's something different about you. Let me see you in the light," she said after she took her wine away from her lips.

Before he thought much about it, Steve moved closer to the light as she requested.

"Ah. Hot shower? Quickie or two? You're flushed and your pupils are blown. You've been pale and cold all day. We could use this look in the close-up pieces. Do you think you could do it again later to get the same effect for the camera?" she asked.

"Pep," he fussed at her mildly.

She was being clinical about it or he was sure he would have felt like sinking under the table to hide.

"You're trusting me with your look, remember? Now answer the question," she said.

The waiter came to take their order for appetizers, then went away.

"No. That's not for the public eye. What I do in my time is my business," Steve said.

"I understand, but it's a shame. That look could say a lot on screen without having to say anything at all," she told him.

"It's not for me," Steve said.

Someone brought him a large mug of the house brew and he was thankful for it. Pepper perused her menu and he did the same. He didn't notice much about the food, other than that it as hot and filling.

"So what's this about?" Pepper finally asked him over their meal.

"I've got a date with Sharon Carter tomorrow night. What should I wear?" he asked.

Pepper set down her fork, which she'd been about to lift to her mouth. The question was easy to see on her face.

"Estrella wants this. It doesn't make much sense to me but she insists, so I'm doing it. Dress me, please?" he said.

"Alright," Pepper took up her wine glass and curled her wrist close as if she was hugging it.

"What are you going for? Are you establishing a business relationship, rekindling a friendship, or looking for romance?" she asked.

"Romance. This is strategic. I don't mean to play with these women, but it has to look real. I'm not an actor, so it has to feel real for me. People will recognize me while I'm out. There will be pictures and uploads to YouTube. I want to keep my dignity and have some fun, but it needs to be clear in the images that the intent is romantic. I'll need to go out with several different women over the next few weeks," Steve said.

Pepper didn't discuss his goals while they were in a public dining room, but from the look on her face he was sure she understood what he was doing.

"For romance with a side of dignity, I'd go with the navy blue and black," Pepper said.

"The navy blue and black what?" he asked.

"I have it in wardrobe. I'll take care of it. When is dinner?" Pepper wondered.

"Probably around seven," he told her.

"Come to my suite around six and we'll get you setup," she assured him.

"Thanks," Steve said, relieved.

His smile was genuine, but Pepper looked back at him thoughtfully.

"What?" he asked again.

"Steve, do you know what you're doing?"

"I'm planning. This is what I need to do. I've thought about it and I'm doing it," he said, calm and confident.

"You're treating these dates like mini missions," Pepper guessed.

He nodded.

"Then I'm sure you'll do fine as long as you keep your goals in mind," she said.

Pepper's phone rang in her purse with an AC/DC ringtone. She apologized while she dug for her phone.

"I'm sorry. It's impossible to keep my phone on mute when it's Tony calling and he really wants to get through," she said.

"It's fine. I know. Go ahead, talk to him," Steve said with easy understanding.

He knew what was going on. Tony trusted Pepper. It bothered Steve that Tony didn't fully trust him to be a gentleman, but he had to concede that his behavior hadn't been the best lately.

Steve got out his phone. Pepper might have put on a show of tolerance when Tony first interrupted their dinner, but she was fully absorbed in talking to Stark now. Her face was soft and affectionate while she stared down at something on the table and pulled a lock of ginger hair repeatedly through her fingers. Steve took a pic and sent it to Tony.

Stop worrying. She never looks at me like that. I've got my own girl. You keep an eye out for mine, and I'll look out for yours, pal, he sent along with the image.

Tony didn't respond and Steve didn't expect him to.

Later, Steve sent Estrella the red smooch emoji they sometimes sent to each other at bedtime. He didn't expect a response from her either.

He turned off the light and settled down to try and get some sleep.

His phone buzzed.

Missing you so much it hurts, Estrella responded.

He felt the same way but he was still cranky about her wanting him to date other people. He set his phone down and went to sleep.


"You don't need to be here tomorrow," Estrella griped at him from her room.

Buck turned up the thermostat in the hallway to return it to where Wanda had it this morning. All day the girl had been sweating and fanning herself while she tried to work. The cold didn't bother him so he'd lowered the temp in the apartment by ten degrees while Wanda was away for work. She'd be home soon, so it was time to turn it back up.

"I said you don't need to be here tomorrow," Estrella said more forcefully from her bedroom door.

Buck turned to glance at her. She was in shorts and a top more suited to summer weather but she looked clammy with sweat. It would only get worse as the heat rose in the apartment. Hopefully-

There was a knock at the door and his attention turned from the girl. He went to the security display on the wall by the door. Their visitor was expected. He checked a few perimeter monitors then started the brief process of opening the door.

"Why is he here?" Estrella asked.

"Hey!" Buck fussed as Estrella dodged around him and jerked open the door.

There wasn't any danger he couldn't handle so he let her do it. Estrella stood and glared at Billy the courier. The young guy smiled his usual friendly smile then glanced uncertainly to Bucky. He lifted the box fan he'd brought and started to speak.

"Hi, Miss. I hope this is what you were…" Billy's words trailed off.

Bucky smirked. It was plain to see that the kid had gotten stuck in Estrella's gaze and the girl was too out of sorts to want to look away. Billy stepped forward like a hypnotized zombie. Buck took the fan from his hand and shoved him back out into the hallway.

"Thanks, kid. Beat it," he told Billy.

He had to push Estrella back a bit, but he got the door shut and secured while she stood there and frowned at him. The girl looked bottled-up, like she wanted to fuss at him for sending Billy away. A glance at the monitor showed that Billy was moving down the hall toward the elevator.

Estrella followed Bucky back to her room and watched while he set the box fan up on a chair and aimed it toward her bed. He turned it on and she eagerly bounced onto the twin sized bed to get in front of the moving air. She held her hair up off of her neck.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"No problem. I've got nothing else to do except work with Natalia in the mornings and maybe get some PT with Thor in the evenings. I don't mind coming around. I told Steve I'd be here so he won't worry so much while he's out there working," Buck tried to mollify her bad attitude about his presence.

She had her eyes closed and her skin was starting to dry under the moving air. She still wouldn't look at him.

"I don't want you here," she said.

"So I'll stay out in the hall and play checkers with Mister Kaminski. You won't know I'm here," he said.

Estrella cracked her eyes open to give him her 'go away' look. Buck shut her bedroom door and got his coat from the peg. She heard him secure the heavy door as he left.

Her shoulders slumped and she bit her lip. She knew she was flushed with heat and hoped that it had hidden her embarrassment. She didn't have any affection for Billy. He was skinny and not at all strong-looking or athletic. He was a normal young man, not particularly attractive or unattractive. But he was male. She frowned and tried to reason with herself that it wasn't her choice to want him, but he was the only man she'd seen for two days. Bucky didn't count.

James Barnes was certainly everything most girls could ask for if a brooding, pretty face and a strong body was her preference. He was nothing but frustration for Estrella. Despite the clues his body gave that he would be a good mate, his sexuality was dead inside. It was confusing, how his looks were so at odds with his scent, his feel. He may as well have been a pre-teen boy. Useless to her. Impervious to her needs.

The kind and rational part of her brain reminded her that Bucky was being nicer than he needed to be, considering how crabby her attitude was. He'd brought her cookies and coffee this morning. He'd caught her attention and reminded her to calm herself by taking deep breaths, especially in the afternoon when she couldn't work anymore. And now he'd gotten her a fan so she would feel at least a little better tonight while she tried to sleep.

Estrella got a banana and peeled a mango. There were grapes. And cheese. She ripped at the paper wrapper on the loaf of dark bread and tore off a chunk of it. Pickles! She dropped several small bumpy pickles among the cheese cubes and the grapes. There was a can of sliced beets in the pantry. She drained the juice and poured the deep red slices into a bowl. She hugged a cold glass of milk to her face while she took all of her kitchen loot back to her room.

Eating was the only thing that temporarily distracted her from the faint aching pressure in her lower body. She bit off a piece of bread and tossed a cube of cheese into her mouth. Tension crimped her brow. The pressure was going to get worse. She didn't want anyone around when it got bad. The anxiety of knowing she was going to embarrass herself, either in front of Bucky or Wanda, made her want to think of only her food while she finished eating.

She set her empty dishes aside and hugged her pillow to her body. She glared mindlessly at the fringe around the bottom of the lamp shade until her phone startled her.

Steve! The mere thought of him flushed a wave of heat through her until her skin prickled.

She hurried to check his message.

It was red kissy lips. Just the lips. No words. No sharing of how his day had been, or who he was with, or what kind of people he was meeting. Usually he chatted with her before bedtime and she could easily imagine his voice, his face, his mouth…

Thoughts of Steve's mouth and how he liked to use it on her made her momentarily lose rational thought. Not that she'd been very rational today.

She'd quit trying to reply to Stark Industries memos when Tony himself had messaged her.

I'm not opposed to F-bombs as a rule, but I think they're against SI comm policy. Pepper's fault, not mine. Take an early weekend and get back to it later. No worries. J intercepted before it posted.

Her mind wasn't right. Typing bad language on the job, being momentarily attracted to Billy, and her unfounded frustration with poor Bucky told her so.

She wanted to call Steve and hear his voice, hear that wonderful rough tone he used when they were talking about sweet things. Despite her miserable heat, she shivered thinking of him. Instead of texting back something provocative, she tried hard to be smart for a moment. Bucky had said that she shouldn't let on to Steve how she was feeling.

Missing you so much it hurts, she sent to him.

That wasn't so bad.

Her skin felt too soft. Too bothered by everything. Estrella took her necklace off and set it on the night stand. She changed into brief nightclothes. Her hair blocked the flow of moving air over her skin, so she put it up in an elastic. She kicked off the covers. Even her pillow wasn't tolerable once it heated up and started radiating her body heat back at her. She tossed it to the foot of the bed and clicked off the lamp.

She heaved a sigh and tried to sleep, knowing it was probably a useless effort. Wanda came home, clattered around in the kitchen and watched some television, then went to bed without bothering her. She lay in the dark and her mind drifted into fantasies which only made her feel more restless and unsatisfied.


Wanda found him outside her door in the morning. Bucky was sitting with her neighbor at the rickety little folding table the man put out in the hall every day. The checkers weren't moving on the board at the moment, but Mister Kaminski's liver-spotted hand hovered, waiting.

"Morning, Wanda. This Mick says he's with you?" her neighbor asked.

Bucky huffed a quiet laugh. It had been a long time since anybody called him a Mick. It was kind of nice to hear. He was tempted to respond by calling Mister Kaminski a Polak, but the guy was neither a soldier nor an old pal, so he didn't.

"For now," she said to the old man then turned her attention to Bucky.

Wanda looked at him with a certain calmness that didn't contain any of her usual dislike. The woman was worried about something.

"You should go take care of your stuff," she told him.

Buck picked up the covered foil dish he'd brought and hurried inside. He paused only long enough to make sure the door was secure, then went to Estrella's room. The muffled sounds from inside got louder when he opened her door to find out why Wanda was concerned.

Estrella was on her bed, curled over her knees, rocking side to side. She hugged her pillow to her face but it only slightly helped to muffle her unhappy moaning. The girl was showing a lot of skin. Buck recognized the little multi-colored panties she wore as some they'd bought while shopping. Her top was a ribbed undershirt which hugged her golden curves. It was thin enough to show her skin tone through it, especially with it stuck to her.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked.

Estrella stopped rocking and making noise. She seemed to hold her breath. Then she whipped around, grabbed and hurled her phone at him.

"Get out!" she yelled.

Her brown eyes looked tired, even in her anger. Buck caught her phone before it could shatter against the door frame. She was a mess. Sweat soaked her and her hair was half falling down, half knotted up at the back of her head. If he'd had the ability to respond to a pretty dame, he surely would have.

For a moment, he obeyed her demand. He took a few steps in the hallway and adjusted the heat down by fifteen degrees. He got her a real fork from the kitchen and a glass of juice. The food he'd brought was still warm on the bottom.

She turned and growled at him when he came back to bother her. It was funny because as soon as she saw the food and drink in his hands she stopped making noise at him.

"What is that?" she asked sharply.

"Bacon, egg, and cheese. Stopped at a cart on the way. Here," he said.

When he got close enough to the bed she lunged at him and grabbed the food. She almost spilled the juice, but saved the slosh by catching it with her mouth at the rim of the glass. She eyed him for less than half a second and he understood that was all the thanks he was going to get.

Since she was distracted with food he took a moment to check with Jarvis and the overnight images from the security system. Nothing unusual had happened. She was so into the food when he got back to her room that she didn't react at all when he leaned into her space to get a sniff at her neck. He didn't have words to describe her smell, but it was getting stronger each day. That was just the scent his nose could detect. He wondered what her pheromones would be like if he could feel their effect.

Buck moved the fan onto the dresser closer to the bed and adjusted its angle. He settled into the chair and waited. The girl was under a thin veneer of civility today. There was no telling what she would do.

He planned to be a fixture around her, to try not to bother her too much, but to make sure she didn't do anything crazy. This was like a strange flavor in his brain. He was used to long hours of watching and waiting, but it had usually been with the goal of ending a life, not tending to one. The remembered smells of dust and rifle oil, heat or cold, one eye closed and the other one looking through the scope, finger light as a whisper on the trigger, waiting, waiting… he mentally shrugged off that stuff. That's not who he needed to be today. At least, not right now. He had to reach back further in his memories to get what he needed for this job.

It started feeling nostalgic when he recalled the hours sitting bedside with Stevie. The kid had been hot or cold or coughing or ominously silent, never vigorous and angry like the girl was at the moment. Still, it was nice to recall that he'd done this before. When Steve was small he'd been frailer than the girl was now, so he was fairly confident that he could do this without breaking her.

Estrella scraped the last of the breakfast food from the foil dish. She washed it down with juice, then she set it all aside. Modesty and tidiness was normally her thing, but none of that was in sight this morning. Other dishes were piled on the night stand and she made no effort to unstick her shirt from her damp skin or to even sit with her legs closed. She faced the fan and basked in the moving air as much as she could. The room smelled like overheated girl.

"You didn't have to bring food. Why are you being nice to me?" she asked.

"Because my ma taught me right," he said.

Buck watched her try to control her breathing, but shallow panting seemed to be what her body wanted. She eyed him suspiciously. He was glad that even with her necklace discarded and fallen to the floor, her voice didn't affect him.

Estrella managed to ignore him for a while by closing her eyes. The air felt good but it wasn't enough. She was so tired, but she couldn't rest, couldn't relax. She sat on her heels and made sure the fan pushed air at her hottest places. Biting her lip hard enough to hurt was all she could do to hold back the miserably embarrassing moans her throat wanted to make. Her hand rubbed at the pressure inside her lower belly. It didn't help much to rub from the outside, like tonguing at a sore tooth. When her mind fuzzed out to try to endure the discomfort, she was unaware that she started swaying slightly, rocking side to side from her hips. Not enough breath. Her teeth let go of her lip so that her mouth could open.

"You look feverish, but you're sweating. Is that normal for you?" his voice disrupted the mindlessness she'd briefly achieved.

"Get out!" she shrieked at him.

It was like she'd turned into a wild harpy. If he wasn't fast she would have been able to claw him. She leapt from the bed onto him and tried to swipe at his face. Her bare feet perched on his thighs and she shrieked at him again when she failed to bloody him. What he could see of her eyes through her messy hair was manic, shrewish rage.

Before she could pull a muscle from trying to scrap with him, he turned her around and locked her down in his lap. The girl tried to writhe and buck, but he bore down as tight as she could to take without her bones creaking.

Estrella moaned again, her frustration spiking intolerably because of his show of dominance and strength. But he was false! Fake! Not even hard for her!

"Useless! You're broken!" she accused him.

"Yeah, I know," he agreed calmly.

Her damp skin slipped against his arms when he loosened his hold on her a little. She was going to bruise but it would likely fade before Steve saw her again. She wasn't so much struggling as she was shifting around, testing his strength. It gave him a nice feel for how much force he should use to hold her securely. Her skin was too hot.

While she panted and wiggled, he shifted her into one arm and used his teeth to tug the glove off of his left hand. He pushed his shirt sleeve as far as he could up his metal arm. Stark had said that the arm's power cell wasn't dangerous anymore, so he flared open the bands and held his arm out in front of the blowing fan. The falling temperature in the room and the moving air chilled the metal until he could feel the cold seeping up toward the flesh of his shoulder.

Estrella side-eyed the ominous way he'd exposed his arm and was holding it out as if he meant to strike her with it. What little rationality she had left told her that he wouldn't hurt her. She tried to wiggle away a few minutes later when he brought his arm in close to hold her. Cold, cold metal touched her skin and she gasped.

"Hnnn," she whined.

She pressed her face to his hand and snuggled in until she was touching all she could of the blessed coolness.

"I'm not completely useless," Buck chuckled at her.

He got up and moved them to sit on the bed in front of the fan.

"C'mon. Talk to me. Do I need to take you back to the tower or call the doc over here? You're too hot. What should I do with you?" Buck asked.

"I'm okay. It's always like this," she said.

The chill of his arm had distracted and calmed her even better than food.

"You're not okay. What do you need?" he asked.

"Steve. I need him. Take me to him," she said, panting again.

"He would love that, but no. He's gotta work and you gotta tough it out on your own this time. I know he'll be real sweet to you next time this comes around, if you marry him," Buck told her.

"No! He's going to fuck other women. I want him now!"

Bucky laughed.

"The both of you are idiots. He was sayin the same thing after Talia took you away. He trashed his place, you know? He got hold of me and broke half the stuff in his apartment slinging me around. You mooks deserve each other," he said with fondness.

Estrella did a slow, strong writhe in his lap and made some eager sounding noises.

"You like it when he loses his cool and acts like a cave-man, huh? Nobody's ever made him lose his shit like that. I think he likes it. Hey, you know it's your fault if he goes with other girls, 'cause you told him to," Bucky kept up a running commentary in a low, soothing tone.

He didn't think she was paying attention, anyway. He eased her down onto the bed. She was more clingy than combative now that he'd made her think of playing with Steve rather than fighting with him. When he attempted to get up and go back to the chair she didn't want to let go of his arm. When he lay down to let her stay close to the cool metal she liked, she tried to get on top of him. Buck ended up belly-down on the bed beside her with his forearm pressed to her sternum and his hand at her jaw. Every so often he flared the metal bands open to super-cool his arm for her. She eventually quit fighting him and stayed down.

The games on his phone were better to keep his attention on than looking at the girl. Steve wouldn't like him staring at all the skin she was showing. He split his attention between monitoring her for changes, playing on his phone, and being aware of their security status as the morning crept by. The girl was near constantly wiggling, shifting her hips, moving her legs, rubbing at her belly and making little whiney noises when she breathed. Every so often she would crack her tired eyes open and frown at him as if this was all his fault.

Around noon, the coolness of his arm and the daytime temperatures outside weren't enough to keep her fever down anymore. Her eyes were starting to look glassy. Her movements were more active and restless.

Buck took her with him to the bathroom and sat her on the toilet. He filled the tub with tepid water then put her in it. Estrella thrashed in surprise and got water on the floor. He held her down like he'd done for much of the morning. If the little undershirt she wore was showy before, it was absolutely useless now. He kept his eyes on her face or he watched and counted her pulse at her neck. It was real easy to see because it pounded right at the water's edge, making little vibrations on the surface. After a while she seemed more aware of his presence.

She blinked her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her breasts. He got out of the way and let her. Her legs pulled up and together to make some attempt at modesty. Bucky pushed her wet hair back from her forehead then poured a cupped hand of water over her too-hot scalp.

She bit her lip and looked away. Her moan was of a different sort. Embarrassment. Shame.

"I didn't want you to see this," she whispered.

Her fingers felt of her throat and she glanced at him.

"It's fine. I'm broken, remember?" he murmured.

"You're not broken. You're numb," she said.

"It's all the same. I don't mind. The water helps you," he mentioned.

It felt good to have coolness all around her, rather than just on one side from the fan, or just from his arm.

She looked at him again, having a difficult time believing that she was practically naked and he wasn't looking anywhere but at her hair or her neck.

"I didn't want anybody to see me like this. It's going to get worse," she grumbled.

"Worse? If you get much hotter, I'm gonna have to take you to medical, doll," he warned.

"I don't think I'll get hotter. I go crazy, Bucky. I can't stand it, it's so bad! I don't want you to see," she said miserably.

"So I won't look," he smirked and glanced briefly at her face, then away again to trickle more water over her head.

She was thirsty, so she stuck out her lip and caught some water for her dry mouth. It wasn't the best she'd had, but she needed it.

"I know it gets bad because I don't remember. When I could get away, out in the desert, I would wake up hungry and thirsty when it was over. I don't remember the days in the middle," she said.

Large, worried eyes turned to him. What was crazy was how pretty she was, even with her hair all messed up, her face pinched with discomfort and tiredness, and no attempt at makeup or girly decorations.

"You're bashful about it. I get that. But here's the deal. You're acting unpredictable. You're making noises and you'll probably get louder if it's going to get worse. I'm not gonna let you go without food or water, and I'm gonna see that you get some rest. So I'm staying. Fuck being embarrassed, alright? We're getting through this in good shape and I'm gonna help you," he promised.

A speculative spark sharpened her gaze and she bit her lip.

"No. I'm not helping you like that. Think about whatever makes you happy, but you're not getting anything from me," Buck told her.

"I don't want you! I know I don't," she complained, but she looked uncertain.

"Look. I've seen some shit that still doesn't make sense to me. Stuff that shouldn't have been medically or biologically possible. Whatever happens with you, it's nothing on what I've seen before. I'm good with it and I'll never mention it after this is over," he assured her.

"Not even to Steve?" she asked.

She was beginning to shiver from the cool water.

"I won't give him any details that he doesn't need to know," Buck promised.

Her body shook harder as her temperature fell. He got off his knees and sat on the side of the tub. He looked down and away as she ran soap over herself and worked shampoo into her hair.

She was rational enough to drain the sudsy water and run fresh to rinse with. Since Bucky was really not looking, she slipped off her top and panties to rinse all the sweat off of her skin. Buck turned his back to her and went to the cabinet to get her a towel.

It didn't take her long to heat up again. By the time she was wrapped in a towel and she went to her bedroom to put on fresh clothes, she'd stopped shivering. Bucky left her alone for a little while and went to the kitchen. He made sandwiches for the both of them. He found a whole box of chocolate candy bars in the pantry, so he brought some of those. Big glasses of soda seemed appropriate because she was burning through a lot of calories and he liked soda pop.

Estrella turned toward his knock at her door, then made happy sounds when she saw the food. He noticed her hand was rubbing at her belly again.

"Do you hurt?" he asked.

She shrugged off the pain and didn't answer him.

"You made a sandwich for me," she said.

"I think it's about time," he agreed.

As they sat and ate he could see her returning to a more primal and agitated mental state.

While eating her second candy bar, she moved to sit in front of the fan again. She turned worried eyes to him.

"You won't leave me?" she asked.

"Nah. Try to relax. I'll make sure you're alright. I told Stevie that I would. The only way I break a promise to him is if I'm dead or frozen," Buck said.

"You said I was making noise. Was I loud?" she wondered.

"Hah! Yeah."

"Don't let me get loud. I don't want Wanda to be scared. I don't want the neighbors to hear me," Estrella said.

She finished eating and Buck took the mess of dishes that had accumulated in her room to the kitchen. When he returned she was brushing out her wet black hair. He could tell by the half-there look in her eyes that she was going back toward the state she'd been in before. She wore the same style clothes as before her bath. Her panties were purple now and her shirt was pink, but just as much skin was showing.

"Heya, toots," he asked for her attention.

The sweet girl she'd been during her bath was fading fast. Already her face was tightening into something like that of a pained animal.

"When is the worst of it coming?" he asked while he could still get some useful information out of her.

"Tomorrow or the next day," she told him.

Her voice came out in growly, grumpy tones. He looked at the clock. It was only midday.

"Try to hold it together til I get back," Buck told her.

He took a quick bathroom break and grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator, then jogged back to her room. She was standing directly in front of the fan.

"C'mon. You look tired. Lie down and try to sleep," he said.

"You don't tell me what to do," Estrella said.

"Okay, I won't," he agreed.

She shrieked at him in outrage again when he picked her up and put her on the bed.

Estrella fought him. His strength, so like Steve's, infuriated her. Since he refused to do what he was supposed to do, she tried to do it for him. She got her legs around his hips. She had some success because his hands were tangled in her wet hair and he didn't want to rip her hair out by jerking free. He'd never had to fight with a soft little dame with the intention of not doing harm. By the time his hands were free she was pulling at his shirt and had it halfway up his body.

She growled and fussed at him for stopping her. He got control of her wrists and pressed her down to the bed. She made enthusiastic sounds, but then yelled at him again when he moved aside of her and unlocked her ankles from behind his rump. She was strong for a woman, but not like Natalia.

"Fake! You're not a man!" she accused him in barely understandable English.

"I know, sweetheart. You and Steve both better be glad I'm not," he agreed.

It didn't matter what he said because he doubted she was listening. Her words were no insult to him. He knew what the animal in her meant.

This time when he held her down, she didn't give up. Buck hoped she would succumb to exhaustion, but she was freshly fed and full of energy. That was alright. He didn't tire easily. Through the afternoon she struggled and whined at him while he kept his arm pressed to the center of her chest. She eventually gave up trying to strike at him with her elbows and fists. He was able to take out his phone and play a few games to ease the boredom while he restrained her with the other hand.

Her stamina and her ability to endure the heat were impressive. She was breathing ragged. The fever that seemed natural to her didn't get any higher beyond a certain point and he was glad for that. It would take some well-planned intervention to get her to medical in the tower without causing a major incident with any men between Wanda's place and the roof of the building.

Toward evening the girl was truly miserable. She rubbed and pressed at her belly and her face was a tight grimace. Her throat sounded raw from hours of panting and making noise. It wasn't kind to let her go on like this. He knew what he had to do and he was about to do it when his phone went off in his hand.

How is she? Steve texted.

Buck had to move his right arm out and off the bed to keep her from slapping at the annoying buzz of the phone. She wiggled toward him and tried to nudge under his chest when his posture changed to respond to Steve. He let her get closer because it didn't matter much as long as she couldn't reach his phone.

She's fine. You?

Bullshit. How is she? Steve persisted.

She's grumpy, but she's fine.

Why don't I believe you?

Because you're not as dumb as you used to be. Really, Steve. She's fine. Acting strange, but its alright.

Why doesn't she answer her phone?

Because it's probably dead. I'll have her charge it.

Buck's phone rang once, then Steve's call was live without him even answering it.

"Let me talk to her. Put her on," Steve demanded.

"Fuck! Don't do that shit. Not now," Bucky said loudly to cover the noise the girl made when she heard Steve's voice. Her struggles renewed and she grabbed for his phone. She bit him. It hurt.

He punched his finger at the phone and ended the call, half afraid that it wouldn't end because Steve didn't want it to. Damn, what kind of skills was the kid getting to make his phone misbehave like that? Carefully, he pushed Estrella's face away from his chest and pressed her down again.

What's wrong with her?

Why did she sound like that?

Why won't you let me talk to her? Steve's questions flew at him too fast to respond to with one thumb.

She's fine, I promise. Shove off.

Buck, start talking or I start makin miles back home.

Bucky said a few choice words under his breath and adjusted his grip on his phone so he could exert more careful pressure to keep the girl down while she struggled against him.

shes acting strange all hot and bothered she says thats normal im keeping her cool her temp is holding steady she says shell forget to eat when its bad ill stay and make sure shes fed and hydrated ive got this leave me the hell alone before you really wake her up she needs sleep.

What about you? Steve wanted to know.

Bucky knew what he was asking.

shes not getting to me i check her smell in the mornings and its nothing to me youd probably like it find a gym or go for a run or fuck your toy were fine RS unless you dont want her to get any shuteye phone buzz pisses her off

Thankfully, Steve left them alone after that.

Buck noted that it was getting close to time for Wanda to get home. Estrella still was nowhere near sleep, especially with Steve agitating her anew with his call and his voice. He put his phone away.

"Eya. Sweet thing. Look here," Buck tried to soothe her down from her restless fit.

A kind voice alone wasn't working. He knew what would get her attention, so he gave it to her. He lifted up some and got her in the middle of the bed. He let her hold his weight and she seemed to like that. Her hands went to his shoulders and her eyes turned to his.

"Can you understand me?" he asked.

She continued to stare at him but she didn't answer other than to whine and roll her head back against the mattress.

"You need sleep. I know you're tired. I'm gonna put you down for a nap, toots. Don't be scared. It won't hurt you none," he assured her, though he was certain she didn't hear a thing he said.

She was focused somewhere deep in her head, likely happy to have a man over her, useless and broken as he was. Bucky gently put his right hand over her mouth and her nose. He sealed off her airways and waited. She struggled some, but then gave up the fight. When she went limp he took his hand away and made sure that she started breathing again.

Her breaths still came in pants and her pulse was high like it had been all day, but at least she was unconscious and she'd stopped moving. Buck got off the bed and watched her for a minute to make sure she was alright. As expected, she regained consciousness briefly, then she relaxed into the sleep of exhaustion.

He used the time to turn the heat up in the apartment and to throw the ingredients for a simple soup into a pot on the stove. He gathered up her wet clothes from her bath and wiped up the splashed puddles of water from the bathroom floor.

Buck didn't like having to put her to sleep like he had. Harmless sedatives weren't part of his routine gear loadout. He'd seen guys struggle for days, exhausted but too busy or terrified to sleep. It was a hell of a nasty feeling and it had looked like Estrella was headed for that. She had no mission to stay awake for. No sleep-deprivation conditioning was required of her. He'd choked enough people to know just when to stop. He was hoping she could get at least a few hours of sleep before her restlessness woke her up again.

He frequently checked in on her until the soup was done. She was staying hot but holding steady. Wanda came home and looked at him, waiting for a report.

"Rough day for her. She's tired," he said.

"She alright?" Wanda asked quietly.

The woman was long accustomed to speaking softly when an unwell person was trying to sleep.

"She's healthy and she's got a lot of attitude, so yeah. She's doing great," he told her.

Wanda went to the kitchen and lifted the lid on the pot. Steam and the smell of savory meat and spices wafted to her face.

"You cooked?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"It's just soup. Anybody can throw stuff in a pot."

"Smells good," she said.

Wanda went to change out the laundry loads. Buck got a spoon to mash up some of the potatoes in the soup. He set the spoon down when he heard Estrella's voice.

She was sitting up on the bed rubbing at her belly but otherwise calm and lucid.

"We've got soup. You wanna eat in the kitchen, or…?" he offered.

She got up and came to the bedroom door as if she meant to go out like she was dressed.

"Nah, let's get a robe or something," he denied her and pushed her back into the room.

"Hungry," she complained.

"Just this, then," Buck said.

He draped a large men's shirt over her shoulders from where it had been on the chair. Estrella shuffled through the living room and toward the kitchen table rubbing her eyes. She still looked tired.

Bucky brought her some soup and a glass of milk. He served himself and sat. He didn't dare wait for Wanda because he wasn't sure how long Estrella would stay calm. They ate in a hurry, both of them hungry.

Estrella moved her soup bowl across the table closer to his, then she tried to get onto his lap. He held her off but she started to growl at him again. It wasn't worth fighting in front of Wanda. Bucky allowed Estrella to slide onto his lap. He ate around her while she snuggled back against him. As long as she ate, he didn't care where she sat.

Wanda got her supper then came to join them. She made a stiff face at Bucky for having the girl in his lap.

"I think she's gotta have somebody right now. I don't care as long as she eats," he commented casually.

"I bet you don't," Wanda said.

"She's Steve's girl. I'm not getting in the way of that. He trusts me to tend to her, so will you cut me some slack?" he asked.

"She's her own woman," Wanda corrected him.

"I know she is. You know what I meant," Bucky said.

Wanda started to reply, but Estrella growled at them both. She looked at them like they were annoying. They figured out she meant them to not argue.

"She doesn't have her necklace. Why doesn't her voice hurt you?" Wanda asked in a low, soothing tone.

"I'm immune to her. Handy trick," he answered.

Estrella followed him into the kitchen when he went to refill his bowl. He served her more soup and refilled her glass of milk. He noted that her hand was pressing at her belly again. The pained look was back on her face.

She got clingy before he was done eating. Her food was forgotten as she tried to turn in the chair and straddle him.

He grimaced and prevented her from doing so. She whined at him and shoved, trying to make him open his posture so she could do as she wanted. Wanda looked at them skeptically. Buck held both of Estrella's wrists to keep her from doing anything she might feel bashful about in front of Wanda if she was in her right mind. Wanda watched her struggle and she frowned.

"I think she's gonna be antsy all night. Could you distract her for a minute?" he asked.

Wanda nodded. While he headed to the bathroom for the quickest stop he could make, Wanda guided a mostly mindless Estrella into the kitchen to distract her with washing the dishes. The man had shut himself away in the bathroom so she let Estrella do as she would while the hot water filled the sink.

"Girl, you're all soaked through with sweat. Are you feeling alright?" Wanda asked her friend.

Estrella was acting funny. She'd never seen the young woman with her hair such a mess since she'd gone to live with the people up in the tower. She always wore more clothes than this, too. Rather than answer her, the girl took her phone. Wanda didn't mind. If she would rather mess with the phone than do dishes, that was alright with her. The girl was obviously mentally altered at the moment, so whatever made her happy and kept her out of mischief was good.

She had a little trouble managing the phone, but Estrella eventually figured it out. Wanda thought it was nice that she called her boyfriend, though she wondered how she was going to talk to him in her odd mental state. It turned out that she could talk fine but her voice sounded low and husky. She said some things that Wanda wasn't comfortable hearing in her kitchen, but she figured the boyfriend could take it, wherever he was.

Bucky got back to the kitchen as quick as he could. Estrella wasn't doing dishes but instead had something clutched in her hands. The things she was saying… her voice. No necklace.

Buck snatched the phone from her and turned it off. He set it on the countertop and scooped up Estrella to get her back to the bedroom. He felt bad for the punk because he'd probably gotten an earful, but he had the girl to worry about. Steve could take care of himself. Estrella yelled and scratched at him in her rage for taking Stevie away from her. He restrained her hands and hauled her toward the bedroom.

"Put her down," Wanda demanded loudly.

The woman strode after them while she wiped her hands dry on a kitchen towel.

Buck turned and set the girl on her feet. Getting into a physical confrontation with their host could only lead to bad things. Wanda looked ready to fight to defend her friend.

"Why can't she talk to him? You won't let her go out the door. You're handling her way too much. You better explain yourself or I'm putting you out the door," Wanda told him.

"She can't talk to Steve on the phone because he'll come over here and we'll have more trouble than we can handle. She can't go out because she'd get used by every guy out there. I've got to handle her some. It's not right to just let her do," Buck told her.

Wanda wasn't buying it.

"Let go of her," she demanded.

Bucky took his arm from around Estrella.

Immediately she cozied up close to him. Her face went to his neck and her hands wandered over his clothes. She groped and fondled him, then grumbled unhappily because he didn't smell right and he wasn't hard. She bit him and growled a warning at him.

"Quit that," he said, and pushed her hand away from his groin.

He looked to Wanda with an 'I told you so' expression. Again, he had to get her hand away from him. She started to lift her knee to his hip and he pushed that down, too.

"She's not herself. It's like…" Buck stopped.

"Like she's a dog in-"

"Don't talk that way. She can't think like normal right now unless I put her in a cold bath. It might get strange," Buck said.

"It's not her fault, what she's going through. You gay?" Wanda asked.

"Asexual," Buck said.

"Hmmph," Wanda grunted.

She turned away and came back with a heavy rolling pin from on top of the refrigerator. She set it down on the table with a firm whack, looking at Bucky. Her message was clear. Estrella jumped at the abrupt bang and snapped her head around to hiss at Wanda, her teeth bared. She huddled around behind Bucky and glared at Wanda from beside his shoulder.

"She doesn't mean it like that. You startled her," Buck said.

"I know she doesn't. People do weird things when their mind's not right. Take care of her. If you need my help, come get me," Wanda said.

Buck nodded and urged Estrella into her bedroom. She didn't fight him as long as he let her hold onto him. She didn't like it when he stopped her from messing with his clothes or groping him through them. Fending her off was like fighting a cloud of annoying gnats. It wasn't difficult, but it never stopped. It was going to be a long night.


Filming was going well. Steve spent some time on a park bench where he could talk to people. He'd toured an iron ore ship and visited a train museum that would have blown his mind as a kid. It was still different and fun even though he'd been on plenty of trains. Word had gotten around that Captain America was in town, so people sought him out. Steve and his film crew, Marley and Jack, had lunch at a hugely popular barbecue joint. Several people had been hanging out with him most of the day so they pushed tables together and talked over ribs, wings, and messy sauce.

It seemed that folks were dazzled by meeting the Captain at first, but Steve refused to do the celebrity song and dance. He was in casual street clothes and trying his best to act like himself, whoever that was. Instead of letting them ask incessant questions as if he was the subject, he'd ask them questions about their lives instead. Pam owned a fishing resort up the river. Doug and Kyle flipped old houses in a historic neighborhood of Duluth. The Spettz family ran a machine and fabrication shop in Wisconsin. Tina, who sat across from him during lunch, didn't say much. Steve had learned from her that she was a cashier at Walmart and that she'd rather listen than talk. Nobody seemed to mind that Marley had a small camera or that Jack discreetly monitored for sound and light.

Pepper had supplied some consent and release cards for their venture. Anyone who was likely to make it into the PR piece got one. After lunch some people wandered away from their group and others recognized Steve and joined them. He'd let them ask a few things, then he'd steer conversation in a different direction. It wasn't difficult to do. All he had to do was ask what they did for fun. People were eager to describe their passions and their hobbies. He'd met Jason and his mother at the train museum in the morning and by late afternoon the boy was still walking at his side, supplying him with trivia about steam engines and famous train crashes.

The day was surprisingly relaxed and comfortable because Steve refused to let it be any other way. Occasionally giddy strangers would run up to him and pose for a picture with him like he was a statue, then run off again with barely a word. His entourage of new friends made room for those moments, then they'd continue walking with him by the lake or to the coffee cart.

"How do you get used to that?" a big guy named Darrel asked him.

Steve shrugged.

"I'm not used to it yet. I've learned to smile and stand still. That's about all you can do," Steve answered him.

Darrel gave him a 'better you than me' look and they walked on.

When they had enough recorded for the day and Marley was starting to look like her feet hurt, Steve shook hands with everyone and told them it was nice to meet them. Jason looked up at him with a frown.

"I'll probably never see you again," the boy said, clearly unhappy about that.

Steve squatted down to get at eye-level with him. He was an intelligent boy and wouldn't appreciate being sent off like a little kid.

"You're gonna be busy going to school and growing up, and I'm gonna be busy doing what I do. I won't forget you, though. My memory is like a computer. I never forget things. No matter how much else I see or do, I'll remember you even if I never see you again, Jason from Bemidji," Steve told him.

"Okay, Mister Steve," Jason said.

He walked away with his mother looking a little happier than he had before.

Marley and Jack followed him to the SUV Russel had brought to get them back to the hotel. Steve signed a few more autographs and posed with a few more people for pictures, then he made his escape.

"Lots of good stuff to work with today, Captain," Jack told him as they loaded into the vehicle and buckled up.

"Good job," Steve said.

His mind was on other things. It was almost five o'clock local time. It would soon be six at home. He wondered how Estrella was doing. Many times today he'd wanted to have her with him to share the things he was seeing and doing. It was only wishful thinking. In reality, he wouldn't want her with him in front of all the cameras. He frowned. After this PR campaign, would there be anywhere he could go without being immediately recognized, even in plain clothes?

To take his mind off his concerns, Steve texted to ask how Estrella was doing. Buck's answers stirred up just as many concerns as they laid aside, but at least he knew she was fine, whatever that meant. He couldn't allow himself to think about Estrella for long while he was in the company of the film crew. He had to keep his thoughts about her G-rated, even in his head.

"This isn't like I expected. The tone you're setting with people is easy and friendly. Is that you, or is it a persona you invented to float the PR work?" Marley asked him after he got off the phone with Buck and stopped scowling.

"A little of both, probably. I'm trying not to analyze it too much," Steve said.

"A word of advice?" Marley offered.

He looked to her.

"Don't be too open. That last thing with the kid, about your memory. Maybe you shouldn't tell people so much about yourself?" she speculated.

"I'm well aware of operational security. The bit about my memory is common knowledge for anyone who's been to the Smithsonian exhibit. Thanks for your concern," Steve told her.

"Sorry, Captain," Marley mumbled.

Steve tried not to look like he was hurrying away to his room when Russel dropped them at the front of the hotel, but he was. Nice as it was to meet people, he wanted some time away. Sharon had called him and they'd agreed to meet at eight o'clock for Italian. Steve was glad she didn't expect something more exotic. He was hungry and not in the mood for little bits and pieces of things on his plate.

Only when he as alone in the shower did he allow himself time to think of Estrella. It felt inappropriate to think of her when he was about to meet with a different lady for the evening. He didn't care. All day he'd done what he was supposed to do. There was no time card to punch out and no office to walk away from, but he considered himself off-duty. He'd think about his girlfriend if he wanted to, when he wanted to, as long as it didn't inhibit his job.

He didn't bother with Rosie. The toy was sometimes too intense and right now he wanted to take his time. If he couldn't be with Estrella, then he wanted to think about her and imagine. One hand kept him going while he braced his feet apart and leaned his forehead against his other arm, which was up on the mosaic wall.

Buck had said he would probably like her smell. That meant she was different now. Stronger. She'd been hard to politely ignore before she moved out. Her smell made him want to suck at her skin, to lick her. He'd been able to do that only a little before she left. He wanted more. Not just at her neck where the scent was strongest.

Steve turned his head and opened his mouth on the skin of his bicep. It was strange to feel his own tongue pressing and moving, his lips and teeth sucking and gripping. In his head, it was her he explored, her he savored and adored. The additional sensation from his arm was a distraction so he put it to the back of his mind like the pain of an injury. Buck had said she was hot and bothered. It was a quaint phrase now, but it used to mean horny. Turned-on. Aroused. How could Buck tell? Was she hot-eyed and touchy, affectionate and pushy? The sound of Estrella's voice teasing and laughing danced through his mind. It spurred his excitement higher. When she laughed like that, she was eager for him and unafraid.

He lost coherent thought when he imagined her with him, slick and wet, rubbing her soft skin on him, tempting him to fuck her. He would! Steve slammed his fist hard to the bone and gasped through his first orgasm of the evening. It only made him hotter. He brought both fists down, pressed his forehead to the tile, and worked torturously slow and hard until he came again. He wanted more, but didn't want to do to himself whatever he'd done last night to make Pepper comment about his looks. It was difficult to let go of himself. His dick stood firm, waiting defiantly for him to continue.

Steve grimaced at the bite marks on his arm, then turned the shower from warm to cold. He leaned back and let the frigid water get him down to a size that wouldn't be so noticeable under his clothes. He scrubbed his toes against the stone of the shower floor to make sure all his DNA went down the drain.

He had an hour to kill in which he had to avoid thinking about sex or his girlfriend. It wasn't easy to do. Now that he was out of the shower, he wanted to imagine the friendlier, more cerebral things about Estrella. He missed having her to talk to. Instead of allowing himself to think of her, he sat in his room in his shorts and undershirt and watched the most distracting, ridiculous thing he could find on television. When his alarm went off he decided that jeans and a sweater were good enough to get him to Pepper's suite.

Darcy wasn't around when Steve got to Pep's suite. He was thankful for that.

Pepper pretended not to notice the faint but still visible bite marks on his arm while he slipped his dress shirt on over his undershirt. He pretended to not notice that she'd noticed them. Her lips tensed and her eyes tried to crinkle in an ever so slight smile, but they ignored that too. Pepper knew things. She was too sharp to not notice, so there wasn't much use in trying to deny what he did in the shower. She didn't tease him about it like Tony would. He was quick to tuck in his shirt and put on the tie she handed him.

"Jack said things went well today," Pepper made small talk while she checked his tie, folded his crisp collar, then sat him down to work on his hair.

"I think so," Steve said lightly.

He was aware that he'd been a little too harsh with Marley, but he wasn't supposed to apologize anymore. If he wanted to not feel socially awkward this evening then he needed to stop thinking about work. Pepper took his cue and changed the subject.

"Did Sharon have a good flight out?" Pepper asked.

"It was fine as far as I know," he told her.

She put some stuff on her hands, rubbed them together, then massaged the stuff into his hair and scalp. It felt good but he didn't want to shut his eyes or make any undignified sounds. Just because he felt touch-starved and desperate for someone else's hands didn't mean he had to let anyone know that.

"You're going to have to be better at conversation than this if you want your date to go well," Pepper said.

She gave him a concerned little frown while she combed his hair.

"I know, ma. I've got conversation topics in my head. I'm ready," Steve teased her gently.

She used a damp cloth to wipe away any hair product she'd gotten on his skin. Then she inspected his ears, nose, and teeth. She made him exhale so she could smell his breath.

"That's unnatural," she commented.

"What is?" Steve wondered.

"Did you use anything?" she asked him.

"In my mouth? Other than toothpaste? No," he said.

"Must be the serum. Most guys have at least a slight breath problem that needs to be covered up with something," she said.

"Sorry," Steve said with a little smile.

"No you're not," she grinned back.

"Nah," he agreed.

Pepper scoffed at the condition of his hands. She got a little tool from her manicure case and dug at something painful under his thumbnail. Then she trimmed his nails. He stopped her when she wanted to polish his nails smooth with a buffer.

"They're fine like they are," he said and held his hands away from her efforts to catch them.

She looked at him like she was determined to prevail. He stared back, just like he did with Tony.

Pepper gave up and laughed. She was familiar with that look on him and knew it was pointless to keep trying to perfect his hands.

She put away her manicure things and picked up the shoes he was to wear for the evening. He reached to take them from her after she brushed them to perfection. She held them away and instead sank to her knees in front of his chair.

"Let me put them on. Bending will crease your shirt," she told him.

He let her do it but he had to practice a heavy dose of cool detachment while she did so. There was nothing inappropriate here, it was simply hard to disregard a pretty lady kneeling between his knees. She ignored his uncomfortable silence like she'd ignored the bite marks on his arm. It felt like she was testing him. Maybe she was. She rose to her feet and turned away to get his jacket.

He stood and buttoned the jacket then looked in the wall mirror to be sure he approved of what she'd done. He would have trusted her completely, except that those damned red underwear lingered in his mind.

The dusky navy blue of his coat and tie were only a few shades from the soft graphite black of the rest of his clothes. It reminded him of a dark, subdued version of his stealth suit. He looked sharp, a bit like the Captain, but maybe more aggressive rather than patriotic. Steve liked the look. It fit his mood.

"Don't touch your hair," Pepper told him when he lifted his hand to feel how stiff the goop might have made it.

He turned to thank Pepper. She handed him a foil-wrapped condom.

He handed it back.

"Thanks, but I won't need it," he said.

She pushed his fingers to curl around the little package.

"Humor me," she insisted.

There was an inside pocket in the breast of his jacket. He stowed the condom there to make her happy

"Do you know what you're doing? Are you thinking about the future you want?" she asked him seriously.

A few years ago he'd have been annoyed at someone reminding him to do the right thing as if he was a careless teen. The hassle of dealing with Catherine and Dana was fresh for all of them, so he swallowed his pride. Instead of brushing off Pepper's concerns he reassured her that he wasn't going to run out and get into trouble tonight.

"I have a plan. My long term and short term goals are right here," Steve said and tapped his forehead.

Pepper smiled up at him. She looked appeased because she didn't know him as well as Bucky did. He decided to leave before she had any more pointed questions for him.

He turned to leave her room, then paused and looked back at her.

"What about your future, Pep? What do you want?" he asked her.

Her mouth parted in surprise and her fingers fluttered at her sides.

"I want a baby, but Tony isn't changing his mind and I'm almost too old," she admitted in a quiet rush, then covered her mouth with her fingers.

Her eyes went wide at the horror of saying such a thing to him.

"I hope he changes his mind. You'd be a great mother. Don't give up," Steve told her.

He hadn't meant to say it like an order, but it came out like one.

Pepper looked like she might be losing her composure. He let himself out to give her some privacy.

"You look great," she said before the door closed behind him.

"Thank you," he said.

As he strode away down the empty corridor, he pushed up his jacket cuff to check his watch. He should be perfectly on time to meet Sharon, if not a few minutes early. He was in the elevator when his phone rang. It was the generic, unassigned tone he usually set for acquaintances.

"Rogers," he answered it.

"Steve! Bucky says I shouldn't, but I want…"

Estrella's unmoderated voice melted into his ears and his brain like a sledgehammer made of hot honey. There was no trying to resist or control his reaction. Immediate arousal blurred out her words, leaving only the tones of her voice. Overwhelming sensation rushed through his nervous system. Her voice kept clenching him, pulling at him for long, interminable seconds. Fear of loss of control and determination to resist her were washed away in the flood of painful pleasure.

Steve regained awareness to find himself down on knees and knuckles on the elevator floor. He heard his own voice, rough and ragged, then choked it off abruptly. Thank God the elevator was still empty and there was no one around to gawk at him. When he had control of his brain and body again, he heard a brief bit of Bucky on the other end of the call, fussing at Wanda for letting Eya get the phone. The call ended and he stared at the phone on the floor between his hands.

It had been one minute since he looked at his watch. Less than one minute of her voice had wrecked him. Steve grabbed up his phone and stood. Shit! The wet heat in his pants urgently needed to be dealt with before semen could soak through his shorts into his slacks. He looked around to verify that no one would see, then pinched the fabric of his pants away from his shorts while he rushed to his room.

Before his door had a chance to close fully he got his pants down, then tugged his shoes off his feet. While he cleaned up and changed into fresh shorts, he decided that Estrella was alright and that he didn't need to be concerned. Buck had sounded resigned and plaintive instead of coldly determined. Eya had sounded happy and eager before the effects of her voice had blurred his mind.

Steve tied his shoes back on and stood to tuck in his shirt. Even minutes later, he felt a peculiar tight clenching sensation through his genitals all the way back to his ass. It was like Estrella had him by the root and wouldn't let go. He smiled and shook his head. His girl was strong medicine. He couldn't wait to get a chance to spend some more time with her.

Sharon. He'd had a few minutes of extra time before, but now he was going to be late.

Things are taking longer than I thought they would. Looks like I'll be six minutes late meeting you, he texted her.

He hurried out the doors of the hotel and into the evening. It was dark and cold out but the lights of the small city were plenty enough for him to see where he was going. He enjoyed that sparse street traffic and empty sidewalk. It was nothing at all like Manhattan. This was a working man's town. People went home to rest at the end of the workday, rather than out on the town to party or socialize.

Sharon Carter was waiting for him in the restaurant bar. She was easy to spot, even among the generally Nordic looking residents of Duluth. Her very feminine blouse and slim skirt were classy but they did little to hide the lithe, toned body of an agent. Her legs were crossed on the bar stool and she was turned sideways from the bar to watch the ballgame on the muted television.

His entry caught her attention, as it should. People in their line of work often keyed into the way a person moved even in peripheral vision and she was waiting for him. She turned her head to watch his approach. It made him feel good almost to the point of squirming when she couldn't stop her delighted smile. Geez, she had a sweet face. He'd always thought that her unpretentious blonde hair and brown eyes softened her beauty into a girl-next-door look, especially when she'd been his actual neighbor.

There was a touch of awed admiration on her face, but that was alright. He admired her too. She was a hero. Her integrity and courage had helped to save a lot of people on the day the Insight carriers went down.

Steve felt himself smiling. He'd gone through the process of preparing for this date like it was a duty. Now that he was here, he was genuinely glad to see her. He walked into her space and she turned toward him.

"It's great to see you. I hate to keep a lady waiting," he said.

He leaned in to give her a genteel half hug and clasped her hand briefly with his free one. It was quick and polite, a thing he'd seen Bucky do with women he respected.

"You're an expert at the waiting part, especially if a lady happens to be a Carter," she responded.

"Ooh," Steve made a pained face through his smile.

"Sorry. That one was too easy," Sharon said.

Steve appreciated her humor and moved on before he could get stuck in painful thoughts of Peggy.

"Shall we? Or would you like to finish your drink first?" Steve asked.

He turned as if to offer her the dining room. She slid off her stool.

"I need food. I hope you're hungry because I don't think I can be coy over dinner," she said.

"I can always eat. Don't let me hold you back," Steve said.

There was a moment when he didn't know whether to walk beside her like a business associate or to escort her properly like a lady. He settled for a close place beside and slightly behind her, his hand not quite touching the small of her back.

A hostess seated them at a table to the side of the dining room. Both of them were long accustomed to being aware of security, but Steve could tell that he had his wits about him a bit more than she did tonight. He took the watch seat, facing the exits.

The ambiance of the place was romantic as he'd hoped it would be. By the time they were served water and dinner drinks were inquired about, he saw that Sharon had her pulse under better control. She kept glancing at him as if she couldn't quite believe she was sitting across from him. It felt odd for him too but he was determined to move past it.

"You look happy. Is the Agency treating you well?" he asked to smooth away the moment of silence.

"It's a good job. I can't complain. There's not as much excitement as my last job," she said.

"You make that sound like a bad thing," Steve teased mildly.

Their eyes met when they both looked up from their perusal of the menus. The last day they'd worked together had been too much excitement for everyone. They smiled faintly over shared memories. At least they could commiserate about it now. Not everything had turned out well. Their smiles faded as they remembered the dead.

"I still can't believe he's gone. He was larger than life," Sharon said solemnly.

He knew she was talking about Nick Fury. If she knew anything or had any ulterior motive in mind by mentioning Nick, he couldn't tell. He raised his glass in a quiet toast.

"To those who gave all," Steve said.

Sharon touched her wine glass to his water goblet and they drank.

"I'm glad you're not among them. I was worried. A lot of people were worried," she amended her statement before it was finished.

"Either I've been very lucky, or I'm meant to be here for a little longer," Steve said easily.

"Have you seen your friend? Since that day?" she asked as if it was an afterthought.

"You have different data points, different sources than we do. Have you seen him? He's got to be out there somewhere," Steve said, only a touch too quickly.

It could be passed off as hopefulness on his part instead of his fledgling skills at misdirection. Sharon probably thought of him as unfailingly direct, so there was that in his favor.

She shook her head.

"The last lead the Agency has is you on the news in a construction site scuffle with someone who looked something like Barnes. If that had been him, you wouldn't be asking," Sharon said.

Now he knew she was messing with him. There was a little twinkle in her eyes.

"Right," he agreed.

He couldn't keep a similar sentiment from his face. Sharon was telling him that her professional opinion was going to be that James Barnes was still unaccounted for. He accepted the bar drink the waitress brought him. They ordered a large appetizer and their meals.

"We shouldn't be talking about work," Sharon said.

"Where else were we going to start?" he said.

She seemed to agree with him. They were both still hungry. They looked to the last piece of bread where it sat near its dish of olive oil and garlic. Sharon was fast, but Steve was enhanced.

He held the toasted treat at his end of the table while Sharon shook her sore fingers.

"You're not the gentleman I expected," she accused.

"I used to be," he said with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Oh?" she asked, wanting to hear more.

Steve broke the bread in half and held a piece out to her.

She accepted it and dipped it into the oil, pushing to get a load of roasted garlic. He noticed that he may have gotten the bread, but she'd claimed the oil while he wasn't paying attention. He reached across and she allowed him to dip his bread.

"You're not going to tell me what that comment means?" she fished for more information.

"Natasha tells me there are times when I should keep my mouth shut," he said.

Sharon made a pleasantly disappointed face.

"I'm glad she's still with you. Are you guys...?" She pondered.

Steve shook his head.

"I don't get romantically involved with co-workers."

"You know, there was a pretty big betting pool on whether you got romantically involved with anyone at all. It fell apart when Shield did," she said.

"Really?" he asked, "That's too bad. You could win it, but it wouldn't be fair."

Sharon looked to him, not certain what he meant. The appetizer came, a large tray of mixed delicacies to sample. From their faux competition over the bread, he didn't figure she would hold back. He served himself almost half the dish and she looked relieved. She did the same, but she was curious enough to talk when she'd barely swallowed. He didn't blame her. He felt famished.

"What are you saying? Let's stop being agents here. This is supposed to be a date, right?" she got to the point.

"I think I'm ready. To try dating, that is. I'm not sure I know what I'm doing," he admitted.

What he said was true. He didn't want to outright lie to her or mislead her, but he had a purpose to which Sharon's knowledge had to be secondary.

"And you picked me to begin?" she wondered.

She stopped trying to load her fork and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Are you surprised? I recall trying to make progress with you by way of my laundry machines, but you weren't having it," he reminded her.

Sharon looked genuinely flustered.

"I couldn't. We- Fury-" she said.

"I know that now. No hard feelings. I got your number and called you, didn't I?" he said.

Sharon smiled but looked away, down to her food.

Something about that smile told Steve that he was going about this the wrong way. He'd been treating her almost like one of the guys, or like Natasha. He realized that he'd closed his mind to the idea of romance or attraction because of Estrella. That wouldn't work if he wanted things to go as planned.

While she used her food as a distraction for whatever she was feeling, he made the mental adjustment that he needed. The remnant of what Estrella had done to him in the elevator was still there, tugging at the base of his spine. He tapped into that and found who he needed to be.

"Hi. I'm Steve," he said, and reached his hand across the table to her.

Sharon looked up at him, then at his offered hand. She slowly reached out to take it in a brief greeting.

"Sharon. It's nice to meet you, Steve. What are you doing in town?" she asked casually, leaving aside their history and everything they'd talked about so far.

She was smart. He knew she'd get where he was going with this.

"I'm with a film crew. We're on the road for a PR piece. A friend of mine is kind of a big-wig, but I'm just a graphic arts guy. What do you do?" he asked.

He sat back in his chair and undid his jacket button so it wouldn't be so fitted across his ribs and shoulders. He considered the pretty lady across from him as if she was an art piece, because she was. Instead of flickering his eyes away too quickly for an unenhanced person to notice, he let her see his interest in the feminine way she'd chosen to present herself tonight. It felt risky to let her see him looking but he took the risk.

Sharon shook her head after a moment of distraction, "I've got a desk job in the city. Other than that, I water my plants and feed my cat. I like to run when I have time. I've got a mountain bike, but I haven't found a trail to ride it on. Do you run?" she asked.

She looked him over is if she was deciding whether he had the build to be a runner.

"I do," he admitted.

He felt a little warm, so he slipped the jacket off and laid it over the back of his chair.

"Whoa," Sharon said quietly, then her eyes met his again.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"You're bigger than…when I last saw you, Steve," she made sure to add his name to not ruin their game.

"I've put on a few pounds. Sometimes I need more than a run to burn off the end of the day. Work can get stressful," he commented.

"Graphic arts is stressful?" she teased with a straight face.

"Sitting in a cubicle all day gives you gams like that?" Steve fired back.

"Gams? Did you say gams?" she chuckled.

"I'm a little old fashioned," he murmured, then took a sip of his whiskey.

They'd decimated the appetizer. Their entrees arrived just in time to keep their bellies happy.

They'd fallen into a quiet moment, but it wasn't strictly because of the food. Since they'd started over the mood of the evening had changed. They were feeling each other out. He could sense it. There was a possibility in the air, something he'd never had the opportunity to experience before. It was heady. She liked him. Through all the hero/agent bullshit, she was interested in him as a man.

He could see it in the way she looked at him briefly, then away. She wasn't brazen like Darcy, nor crude like some others. He could tell she was excited and cautious, but trying to put forward an unruffled front. That had always been his painfully awkward role with women. He sympathized with her feelings, but enjoyed the novelty of being on the other end of the sentiment.

Sharon was good at what she did. Professional. She'd deceived him for the better part of a year while she pretended to be merely his neighbor. The fact that he was getting to her in a way she couldn't fully control heated him up. For the first time with a woman, Steve felt that he had the advantage. She was the one flustered at the attraction between them. He was content to bask in the heat and see where it would go.

"So what kind of place does a film crew stay in?" Sharon asked to get the conversation going again.

"The producer's loaded. He's got us in a swank place. Where are you staying?" he asked.

Sharon giggled at his antiquated wordplay. Giggled. He smiled a slow, satisfied smile because of what it told him. It always meant the same thing when a grown woman made those sounds in combination with looking at him like she was. Her humor faded and her eyes went a fraction wider. Yeah, he could feel the expression on his face. It wasn't how he used to allow himself to look at ladies, but it was who he needed to be right now. He was waiting for her to answer his question, but he already knew how this was going to go.

"I'm at the Sheraton. It's probably not as nice, but…"

Her eyes said what her words stopped short on. She was inviting him back to her room after dinner. Steve felt like standing up from his seat and making some sort of victorious gesture, but he didn't. Bucky would be slapping him on the back and grinning right now. Steve kept his smile and his tone evenly relaxed as if the success of a mission depended on it.

"I'm sure it's fine. I'll walk you back," he offered.

Sharon didn't know what to say to that. While they finished dinner she continued to glance nervously, excitedly at him. He saw her come to the conclusion that she wanted to pursue things with him despite their baggage, despite her nerves. Her pulse was acting up again.

It was humbling. Whatever game they were playing was running deeper than he needed it to. Steve didn't want to be cruel. He respected her and allowed that she was having a purely human moment which overcame her usual professionalism. He leaned closer across the table and touched the back of her hand.

"Sharon."

She looked to him slowly, in increments. From his hand which touched hers, up his arm, across his shoulder, a lingering pause at his lips, then finally directly at him. God, help him. It was there in her eyes. She was his if he wanted her. Everything male in him urged him to take. To enjoy. She'd chosen to say yes to him and there was no money changing hands. He didn't think she'd mind seeing the struggle in his eyes. She was brave and honest with him, so he could do the same. Sure, he wanted her. He took a slow, deep breath and let it out with his words.

"I can be a gentleman for a lady who deserves it," he assured her.

He'd made up his mind. She didn't look like she knew what he meant precisely, but his assurance set her at ease. They ate and talked over dessert about inconsequential things. The attraction remained like a live thing between them. She seemed confused by his quiet, confident manner. Steve was too. He didn't know where it was coming from.

Sharon did most of the talking while Steve listened and asked a few questions. The night had gotten colder by the time they left the restaurant. Neither of them wanted to call a cab or part ways. Sharon looked surprised when he put his jacket around her shoulders over the top of her fuzzy wrap. She would have protested something along the lines of being able to handle the cold for the duration of a short walk, but he used a look to tell her 'just don't' when she started to try to hand his jacket back to him.

A few cars passed through a well-lit intersection beside them. The sidewalk led on to a dim stretch before they would reach the next street light and a busier part of town. Steve marveled at the feeling of walking with a woman toward an opportunity he'd never had before.

Sharon went on in disbelief of how it appeared her date with her childhood idol was going to end. This wasn't what she'd expected at all. The Steve Rogers she'd lived next door to had been almost painfully awkward. Agent Romanoff had encouraged her to help him out of his shell of shyness. It appeared that he didn't need that sort of help anymore.

"Did you change, or was this you all along?" she asked him as they walked the lonely sidewalk.

"I changed. It gets old, always devoting myself to who other people think I should be. Other people don't always have my best interests in mind. I was too dedicated to the job to see that for a long time. Maybe it's time to find out who I want to be for a change," he said.

Sharon nodded. It seemed that she had something to say, but then she decided not to say it. Yeah, he knew. Peggy would want him to move on from the past and make something of himself other than a science project. The weight of history almost drained the eagerness he felt to spend time with Sharon, but then he heard something.

Steve put his arm around Sharon's shoulders and held her close as if they were a cozy, familiar couple. He leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Two, behind us. Probably armed. Street thugs, nothing professional," he informed her.

Sharon laughed as if he'd said something naughty.

"You've got to be kidding me. In Duluth? This isn't exactly gangster's paradise," she whispered back.

"Times are tough. It can happen anywhere. Ahead, at the-"

"at the dark spot under the awning. I get it, Captain," she murmured.

His touch across her shoulders and down her side was a thrill. She couldn't tell if it was because of the spark between them, or if the mature, rational part of her was eager to face a moment of action with him as her partner. She chided herself for being giddy about the situation. It's not like an attempted street robbery was any kind of serious action.

Sharon laughed in relief and looked up at him. Their would-be robbers had at least broken the heavy sexual tension between them and given them something else to think about for a moment.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"Almost. Ask me again in twenty seconds," she whispered.

"Seventeen," Steve said, then he kissed her.

Or, he almost kissed her. She got to feel a mere hint of firm lips before they both spun away to tend to their attackers. She trusted him to turn her in the right direction and he didn't disappoint. Two big guys in heavy coats rushed at them. It was obvious they were reaching for weapons concealed in their coats. Both Steve and Sharon advanced on them to meet the threat before they could get their weapons clear of their clothing. Steve got control of his thug's weapon hand and bounced the man hard against the wall next to the sidewalk. Sharon disarmed her guy so fast he didn't have time to do more than make a surprised face before she knocked him cold out with the back of her elbow to his jaw.

Both guys fell into a limp heap, unconscious on the sidewalk. Sharon did a quick scan for more danger, but saw that Steve was keeping watch. The nearest vehicular traffic of any sort was two intersections away and it made a right turn away from them.

"We should call this in," Sharon acknowledged.

"Nah. Too much paperwork. The weapons aren't loaded. I think they planned to scare us, not shoot us. Weapons down the street drain, then we keep walking," Steve said.

"Captain," Sharon rebuked him with a grin.

"Not tonight, Sharon. If he was here, we'd be spending the rest of our night doing paperwork," Steve smirked.

Sharon took a moment to study him. He was so unlike what she'd seen of him working at Shield that she had to reach back into some stories Aunt Peggy had told her to find a glimmer of who this man could be. This was the punky little guy under the muscle who had flummoxed a training squad by taking down a flag pole rather than trying to climb it. Peggy had been particularly pleased with that story and had told it more than once.

Steve held out his arm to escort her properly. She took it. They kicked the firearms into the nearby street drain, stepped around their failed attackers and continued on their way. Sharon couldn't help but laugh.

"Luck was not with them," she said.

"Hey, we did a good deed. They would have scared the stuffing out of the next civilian they met and probably robbed them too. Don't feel sorry for them," Steve reminded her.

"Right. I mean, of all the people…" she stopped, not wanting to point out the obvious.

"What? I'm just a graphic arts guy, and you're just a nurse with an office job," Steve teased.

"Do you even know what graphic arts is?" Sharon asked as they approached her hotel.

She was determined to keep him talking in case he turned shy at the last minute.

"Sure I do. That's comic books, illustrations, advertising logos, c'mon, play along. I'm trying, here," Steve said as they got in the hotel elevator to go up. Two other people were in with them, but they minded their own business and got off on the floor below Sharon's.

Steve followed Sharon down the carpeted hallway. She looked to him as she touched her card to the door. He was quiet, but certain. The look in his eyes threatened to turn her knees to jelly but she managed to get them into her suite.

"Mind if I?...I'd like to wash my hands," Steve gestured to the restroom.

"Good idea. I think there's a bar. Would you like another drink?" she asked as they went their separate ways.

"Sure. Thanks," he said.

Sharon washed any work-related nastiness off her hands, then found the mini-fridge and the tiny bottles the hotel offered to its guests. He'd had a simple whiskey at the restaurant, so she fixed him the same in a hotel glass.

When he came out of the restroom he found her in the sitting area. His drink was on an end table near one of the chairs so he sat near it. Sharon took off his jacket and laid it over the back of an unused chair, then she hung up her wrap and sat across from him in the other chair.

She'd only put water in her glass. Steve looked at it and lifted a brow in question.

"It would be stupid to try drinking with you. Only one of us would make a fool of themselves, and that's no fun," she said.

"No fun. That's me," Steve admitted.

"Not true. I've enjoyed my evening. I didn't know what to think when you called yesterday, then when I did know what to think, I didn't know how to dress. No one has asked me out in ages. I had to go shopping and bring a girlfriend who's better at this than me. It was great. I was having fun because of you before I got on the plane. I had my nails done. See?" she said.

She wiggled her fingers at him. Her nails looked shiny and classic pink, almost the color of Estrella's- no. He wasn't going to think of that.

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble. I really don't know what I'm doing. I asked Pepper to dress me. This is from wardrobe," he lifted his arms slightly then let them fall, indicating his clothes.

Sharon laughed softly.

"We work too much. High fashion isn't in our training because a suit or a uniform is always appropriate. You look great, Steve. You look…" she stopped, studying him.

He sipped his whiskey from his slumped, relaxed position in the chair. He thought she was very pretty tonight and the effect of his admiration was plain to see. He wasn't trying to be vulgar. He was merely attempting to follow Pepper's advice. Concealed carry was no option right now, not without his jacket for cover. There was no way to hide unless he wanted to sit prim and hunched on the edge of his seat. He didn't. Sharon's gaze flickered to his lap, then away, then back for a longer look.

"You're safe, Sharon. I've always admired a strong woman. Nothing I can do about that," he tried to excuse himself.

She was having difficulty mentally adjusting to the idea of Captain Steve Rogers and sex. He looked blatantly sexual sitting across from her casually dangling his glass from two fingers and a thumb. His arousal strained the suit pants which were already snug over the muscled bulk of his thighs. With the way he was slightly slumped, the fine fabric of his shirt pulled across the lean plane of his belly. Likewise, his shirt faithfully displayed the hard contours of his arms, his chest and his shoulders.

Since when had he given up his grandpa style? She wanted to respect him for who he was, but the image he made tonight was too carnal for lofty thoughts. Did he even know what his eyes were saying to her? Did he realize that the same implacable expression he issued orders with as the Captain was telling her without any words to lie back and offer him whatever he wanted?

Sharon shook her head and looked away to the boring glass of water in her hand. If she looked at him anymore, she wasn't sure she could stay in her chair. She really wanted to be on her knees near him so she could slide her hand up the inside of his thigh to feel... She shook her head again, trying to think clearly. Was that the tiniest bit of a smirk on his lips? He was confusing her. Why hadn't he made a move yet?

"Steve, you said you don't know what you're doing. Do you intend to have sex with me?" she asked for plain honesty.

It wasn't possible that he would lie to her about such a thing, or the man across from her wasn't Steve Rogers at all but some sort of imposter.

"No. I thought about it, but I've decided not to," Steve told her.

Sharon let out a quiet breath. She felt both relieved and terribly disappointed. From one moment to the next, she pulled her thoughts up out of the steamy rut they seemed to have fallen into. He needed some guidance, especially if this was his first date.

"If there's nothing on offer you should put away the high intensity sex appeal. It's physically painful when you lead someone on so hard," she advised him gently.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that to you. I'm familiar with the feeling of denial. It's a form of endurance, like the last half hour of a hard run. How do you suggest I put it away the intensity? Am I supposed to pretend? I'm no good at that," he said.

He looked stubborn, as if by asking him to tone it down, she was asking him to lie.

"Dating is complicated, especially if you go back to a girl's place at the end of it without intending to have sex. You should probably leave them with a kiss at the door or a polite 'good night' before you get anywhere private. There's a big difference between sending the nonverbal messages 'I'm interested in you' and 'Oh my God, please fuck me now'," she said.

Steve's fingers gripped the chair where they rested. There was a tinkling sound, then a thunk as his whiskey glass shattered and fell to the carpet from his other hand. He frowned down at the glass, then across at her.

Steve was startled at the sudden spike of eagerness he felt when those last words came out of her mouth, even though he knew she didn't mean them to be actionable.

"You did that on purpose," he accused mildly.

"I did. If you want to date women, you need to know at least that one thing from the beginning. If you wanted to date men, it would already be too late for you," she warned him.

Steve laughed.

"Yeah. Guys don't believe in putting off what you could be doing right now," he agreed.

Sharon looked shocked. Steve laughed some more.

"You think women are the only ones I have to deal with? Come on. I've spent a lot of time around men. At least guys don't act all heart-broken when you tell them no. The worst has got to be teenage girls. It's easier to change a bear's mind than to tap-dance around the feelings of a girl," Steve said.

He twisted sideways to pick shards from the carpet and set them inside the jagged remains of his glass. He thought it was odd that Sharon didn't move to at least get the trash can. She was sitting tight with her shoes kicked off and her feet tucked up under her skirt. She avidly watched his hands move.

"You like hands?" he asked her.

"Not all hands. Ones like yours… are good," Sharon murmured with a low, husky female tone.

The attraction between them was heady and delicious, but he'd about had his fill. He could feel what she'd meant about coming back to a lady's room. He shouldn't have, even though he knew he was strong enough to resist acting on the temptation to have sex with her. It wasn't socially polite to make her reveal this much of herself; what her voice sounded like when she was turned on, or the fact that her fetish was men's hands like his was lady's ankles. Since he'd decided that he wasn't going to follow through, he should go. He never should have come up, even with the intent to only talk and to test himself, to explore this new dynamic he was feeling for the first time. He understood that now.

Steve got to his feet and took the broken glass to the trash can. He rinsed whiskey residue from his fingers at the suite's mini-bar. Sharon got the cue that he was leaving and she rose to see him out.

"You're barefoot. There could be shards in the carpet," he said.

"I know. I'll be careful," she said.

She stood near him. Maybe a little too near.

"Sharon, I'm a klutz. I didn't mean to do this to us," he apologized without saying he was sorry.

"This wasn't meant to be a date? Was there never meant to be a possibility we could learn that we like each other's company?" she questioned him.

"No! I mean, yes, it's a date, but I didn't mean for us to get to this point. It happened and I wasn't thinking like I should. It felt good, so I ran with it. I didn't mean any disrespect," Steve told her sincerely.

Now Sharon was confusing him. She still had the look of an interested woman, but she was thinking like an agent again, finding holes in his reasons for asking her out. Could all female agents do that? Peggy had certainly turned him to mush. For a while he'd had trouble thinking around Natasha, and now Sharon was tempting him down a velvet path.

He stepped away from her to get his jacket. She watched him put it on and there was no mistaking her eyes on him. Somewhere in the last few minutes he'd lost the advantage in the social dynamic between them. He buttoned his jacket but refused to back away when she stepped closer.

"Please, forgive me," she whispered.

Her hand rose to his chest. He could easily have caught it and stopped her. He didn't. She slid her palm against him, between his tie and his jacket lapel. Her fingers toyed with the edge of his collar and he reached to hold them still before she could touch his neck. His skin was hungry and she wasn't the one he wanted touching him.

"There's nothing to forgive. We haven't done anything wrong," he assured her.

"You've set a hard limit. You've got a reason for denying yourself," she observed.

Steve smiled. He didn't think he needed to hide how Estrella made him feel from her. Sharon was loyal. She'd put her life on the line for him already.

"I do. She's amazing. She's the reason I have to get out and be seen with other women," he admitted.

"You're laying a diversion," Sharon guessed.

Steve tipped his head aside slightly. Not an admission, but not a denial either.

"Hydra would kill her if they could," he whispered.

"If you've found someone, I'll help you. I want you to be happy. Peggy wants you to be happy," Sharon said.

He could see the truth of it in her expression. Though their bodies were interested in each other, they were much more than their bodies.

Steve drew her into a hug and held her there for a long moment.

"Thank you, Sharon. Thanks for looking out for me and for being there when Fury needed you. Thank you for delaying the Insight launch and giving me the time I needed. Thank you for coming here to see me. Thanks for your advice," he spoke warmth into her soft hair.

She felt good against him. It wasn't easy to set her away.

Sharon steeled her expression, kept a tight leash on her body, and walked him to the door.

When he would have bent a little to kiss her goodnight like she had advised him, she put her fingers to his lips. There was no way she'd be able to kiss him without making something deeper of it. As it was, she was tempted to explore his lips with her fingers. She drew her hand away instead.

She sighed and let the dream die. Steve gave her a sweet, soft smile that let her down with a gentle burn.

"Call me if you need me, Captain. I'm available if you need a friend or some backup," she said.

Steve stepped into the doorway she held open for him. She meant what she said in exactly the way that she said it. A sense of professional courtesy had returned between them. He was pleased that he hadn't ruined their working relationship. Carter was a real class act.

"I will, Carter. I need every friend I've got," he said.

"Understood," she agreed.

They smiled at each other one last time, then he was away. She watched him go. He didn't look back. Much as it stung to find out that a chance with him hadn't really been a chance at all, she understood his motives. She was pleased to see him walk away happy and not injured, not grieving.

Steve walked back to his hotel with only enough attention to keep aware of his personal security and to be sure he wasn't hit by traffic. The goons they'd left on the sidewalk were gone, probably on their own feet.

He let himself into his room, then carefully hung up his clothes for returning to Pepper's wardrobe collection later. He felt like he was bubbling up inside. His first impulse was to call Estrella and tell her everything about his evening. That probably wasn't a good idea. She was his friend so he wanted to share his excitement with her. It wouldn't go over so well, because she was also his girlfriend. Plus, if he tried to speak with her, her voice would set him off again.

While Steve stripped down to take another shower before bedtime he called and left a message for Bucky. He knew Buck wouldn't answer his phone right now but that was alright. He told Buck what he probably shouldn't tell Estrella. Then he set his phone aside and imagined what could have happened in Sharon's room tonight.

The images kept him company while he showered. There was no stopping it. After the unexpected excitement of his date with Sharon, the dumb male part of him wouldn't let it go until he scratched the itch. He would have thought of her while he was trying to get to sleep if he didn't take care of it, and he wanted to reserve his last waking thoughts for someone else.

As he lay in the dark, Steve touched himself in different places than he had in the shower. His hands were too big, too rough. What he needed was the touch of one woman. No one else would do to ease the ache under his skin.


While the girl stuffed her face with a midnight snack in the kitchen, Buck stole a moment in the bathroom to check the message Steve had left on his muted phone. He was surprised and proud of Steve. It was plain in his voice that he considered his evening with Carter's niece a success. If Buck hadn't spent these last few weeks with Steve and the girl and seen the changes in his friend for himself, he would have been skeptical that Stevie Rogers could pull off a smooth date with a woman like Carter without tripping over himself.

Estrella watched him over her bowl of ice cream. The dim light over the stove and her unkempt condition made it feel almost like they were still on the street and she was the cautious, wild thing he'd first met. She'd been sleeping fitfully so far. She'd mumbled something about being hungry, so he'd put ice cream in front of her to give himself a chance for a bathroom break. She was quieter while she ate, her moans and grumbles pacified while she satisfied the other need that drove her.

Buck studied the structure of her vaguely heart-shaped face. Her bones were changing fast these past few days. She was still recognizably herself, but subtle differences were emerging beneath her skin like the finishing touches of a sculptor. She scooped ice cream into her mouth and looked at him suspiciously. He took out two of the calcium pills Natalia had told him she was to take. He pushed them at her. She pulled away her ice cream bowl and crimped her brows at him.

"You gotta eat those," Bucky told her.

She made a negative noise at him and continued with the ice cream.

"C'mon, doll. Don't make me force you. Your bones need it," he said.

Estrella ignored him until she finished drinking the last of the melted ice cream from the bottom of her bowl. Soon as she set it down, he caught her by the jaw and pulled her face toward him across the table. She struggled until he tightened his hand and stared her down.

"You're gonna eat these if I hafta choke you on em. Here," he said, and he pushed the two pills past her lips.

He expected her to bite his fingers and she didn't disappoint. Buck used the opportunity to tip her water bottle against her lips. She sputtered and let go of his fingers.

"Ah! If you spit those out, I'll make you eat em anyway," Buck warned her.

She looked defiantly at him and chewed the powdery pills up before swallowing, probably because she knew that wasn't the right way to get them down and she wanted to spite him. Her unconventional way of getting the pills down left white at the corners of her lips.

"That's real charming. Here, wash that off," he said and pushed the water at her.

At least she didn't argue with him about drinking water.

She tried to push him out of the bathroom when he brought her to pee but he wouldn't let her. There was a window in the bathroom and he didn't trust her to act rationally.

"Geez, kid, does every blessed thing have to be a fight? Just piss already so I can get you back to bed," Buck said irritably.

As jobs went, this was by far not his worst assignment. She was fairly entertaining in her animalistic, non-verbal state. Even without words, her rudimentary motivations were easy to understand. He could see why Steve hadn't had much trouble getting to know her before she had her necklace to protect her voice. It was plain as day that her intent was to make life difficult for him as long as he had to be the boss of her and refuse her what she wanted.

A bit of shoving and a firm hand on her shoulder got her to sit on the pot and do her business. Unfortunately he had to fend off her other hand from trying to undress him. Buck was used to that by now to the point that it was tedious and expected. She didn't balk when he handed her a cup of warm water to rinse herself with. The girl had a natural inclination to be tidy. He let her up when she was refreshed and ready for bed again.

"Yeah, sure, you can grope me all the way back to the bedroom, but it's not gonna help you any. Shh. Hush up. Wanda needs to sleep and so do the neighbors," he murmured at her in the dark.

He'd found that she was quieter if he spoke to her some. Maybe she didn't care what he said, but she seemed to like his voice and his attention. Buck tumbled her down to her mattress. She growled and fought with him half-heartedly until he got her settled down. She was tired and fidgety but she'd learned that she couldn't win against him. She'd been fed and had a bathroom break so Buck hoped she would get some sleep. He subdued her restless limbs and pressed her down under his weight. She seemed to settle best when he kept her down like this.

Estrella shifted under him and he let her arms loose. Not much she could do to the backside of him. His jeans and sweatshirt were tough cotton so she couldn't get at him except for a few scratches to his back. He didn't mind. It was nothing.

Jarvis already knew to alert him to anything he needed to know pertaining to the apartment's security. He knew J was on duty because of the occasional red flicker when he looked toward the security panel in the girl's dark room. The little red light didn't flicker on a regular schedule, only when Buck turned his head toward it. Jarvis was good like that. The prissy digital fucker knew he was paranoid.

Bucky had stayed up for long, long hours, past exhaustion and into delirium. This wasn't like that. It was soft and pleasant. This was easy duty, almost an insult to his skills, if it hadn't been so strange and necessary.

The girl tried to sleep. He could tell she did. The problem was that holding herself still caused her to tense up against the movements her body wanted to make, so that she ended up cranky and even more tired.

"Rrrnh," she grunted at him in misery.

Her hands fisted and beat at his hips in frustration, then she moved one up to pull at his hair.

"I know. I'm broken. Useless. You ain't gotta say it. Here," he said, and offered her his arm.

The cool of the metal was no longer enough to distract her much. Her temp was still high. Her skin and her clothes, what little she wore, were damp with sweat. She smelled earthy but nice. If he wasn't broken, the heated female scent of her would likely have made him a little crazy. The heat didn't seem to bother her anymore. She no longer sought to stay in front of the fan and she didn't mind his body heat against her. Her little whines and growls were getting loud so he pressed his hand across her mouth to muffle her.

"I did some reading when I needed to a while back. They kept sending women at me. I wanted to understand how things worked so I could fuck up their plans, see? I think I've got your fever figured out. Did you know a guy's balls gotta stay cooler because normal body heat activates the sperm and wears out their battery? You've got some natural selection going on, girlie. Any guy gets at you, his swimmers gotta have the endurance to make it through the heat of your fever before they run outta juice. Hardly anybody's gonna have what it takes to knock you up unless they get lucky at just the right time. I know somebody who could get the job done," Buck babbled along.

He wondered if she was capable of understanding him or even listening.

"Steeeve," she moaned quietly behind his hand.

"Hah," he chuckled.

It could be coincidence that she'd said his name just then. She said it fairly often. Or maybe she understood more than he thought.

"Eya," he began, but she pulled hard at his hair with her hand.

"I know you don't like me calling you that. Try to sleep while you can, sweet-cheeks. If this is gonna get worse, then you won't be able to sleep later," he said just in case she could understand him.

Buck stayed awake through the remaining hours of the night. The girl slept some but by morning she was an unmanageable mess. It was a chore to keep her quiet enough so that Wanda could get away to work without thinking she should go check on the strange noises from the bedroom. Soon as the woman was gone for the day and the door of the apartment closed behind her, Buck let the girl go so she could breathe again.

Estrella pushed out from under him and he let her. She went to stand by the window in the morning light. Her eyes were alternately mean or pleading. She pulled at her hair just as much as she pulled at his. Even standing, it was impossible for her to be still. One hand tugged at her hair while her other hand rubbed firmly at her belly.

"Fuck you!" she seethed at him.

It seemed to be one of the few things she had no trouble saying lately.

"No thanks. You gotta wait for Steve. You want breakfast?" he asked her.

"Steeve," she said.

"I know. Breakfast," Buck told her instead.

It took a degree of tolerance he was proud of to allow her to attack his back side while he walked away toward the kitchen. Everything in him was trained to turn and cut her down. It wasn't allowed that anyone but a handler should approach him from behind with the speed and impact that the girl did. Bucky kept walking as she tried to climb him.

She was unarmed, unskilled. Not a threat. Steve's girl was a vicious, demanding kitten with hardly any teeth or claws. What she wanted didn't register as a threat to the Soldier in him, and it only amused James Barnes.

Halfway through the living room and to the kitchen Estrella unexpectedly moved away from him. She made for the door. It wouldn't do her any good.

"J," Buck said.

"The Miss will be unable to open the door except in the case of an emergency or with your permission," Jarvis told him.

Estrella stopped working at the door and yelled her frustration at the ceiling, at Jarvis' voice.

"I am sorry, Miss," Jarvis apologized.

The girl turned and slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor. She looked like a madwoman, all crazy hair and half-dressed. Buck had spent a lot of time like that, so he could empathize with her inability to care about her appearance. All she wanted was to get out. To get to Steve, or maybe to any man who wasn't 'broken', he imagined.

"Sorry, toots. You're stuck with me," Bucky told her while he searched for the oatmeal and set a kettle of water on to boil.

He grabbed two oranges from a bowl and went to sit near her while the kettle heated. She watched him through her hair but she didn't try to run away or attack him.

Her face was flushed. One hand pressed at her belly while the other one went to her panties to rub there. The girl was shy. She'd never touch herself in front of him, but it wasn't her normal personality in residence behind her eyes. The need to appease her body's demands drove her far beyond the limits of normal behavior. He could understand that too.

"S'good," he said around a juicy slice of orange, "want some?"

Buck held out the next section of orange that his fingers had worked loose from the peel. She was interested, but not enough to take her hands away from what they were doing. She easily took the fruit from his fingers when he put it near her mouth. She quickly chewed and swallowed, then looked to him for more.

"Alright, so we're down to hand feeding. Stevie's gonna have some fun with that later," Buck said with a smirk.

"Steeve," she moaned, and she rubbed a little harder.

He chuckled and gave her another piece of orange. She took it, but then she slid down to lie sideways on the shiny wood floor. She had great legs. They weren't long like a ballerina or a dancehall girl, but they were shapely and very girly. Full and softly rounded, with pretty knees and ankles. Never mind what she was doing between her thighs.

Buck was deeply pleased for his friend. Steve would pop his cork for sure if he could see the girl now. Smooth golden skin and all those curves, plus her outta her head with wanting a man. No way would Steve be able to handle all this without going down the rabbit hole himself and probably putting twins in her belly.

The kettle started whistling from the kitchen.

"Don't choke on that. You should finish eating before you-"

The girl went off, moaning and shaking on the floor.

"Come on, kid. Chew and swallow. I can't watch you every second of the day," he grumbled.

Whether by will or coincidence, Estrella finished eating her mouthful of orange. Buck hurried to the kitchen to make bowls of raisin and walnut oatmeal for them and to pour glasses of milk. The dishes were piling up but there was no time to tend to that now. He set the food on the table then went to get the girl.

"You're getting a shower after this. With soap and everything," Buck told her as he hauled her toward the table.

She made no effort to walk or to hold onto him. One hand kept at her belly, and the other one grabbed at his groin through his jeans. Again. He had nothing for her. Buck tipped his head down to catch her head-butt on his forehead instead of his nose. It made her angry that he refused to respond to her like a man should.

He ended up having to feed her spoon by spoon because her hands stayed busy. She took half her milk, then knocked the glass over. Buck's patience wasn't without limits.

"That shit smells when you leave it and I've got no time to clean it up. You're done," he barked at her.

He threw a kitchen towel at the puddle of milk in passing and grabbed the girl up again. She fought with him on the way to the bathroom, probably more for the fun of it than because she was aware of anything to protest about. Buck marveled that she was a nice armful, not at all like the smelly bag of sticks she'd been on the street. Sure, she was smelly, but it was the kind of smelly a guy would be into.

Buck flicked on the bathroom light and shut the door with one hand, then set her down. She crouched in front of him and looked confused. He reached into the shower enclosure and turned on the water. Not too hot, but not too chilly, either. He was going to have to get in with her or nothing effective would get done.

"Go ahead, then. You've been wanting to strip me down for more than a day now. Have at it," he told her.

Estrella didn't seem to understand him.

"I'm getting you clean, girlie. We can't do that with our clothes on. Here, I'll go first," he offered.

She didn't want to straighten her arms out from her body, so Buck ripped her thin shirt from her. The panties were just as easy. He dropped the torn garments to the floor. She didn't care about them or that she was naked. He'd known she wouldn't. Soon as he started working on the button and the fly of his jeans, she got the idea. He laughed while she grunted and struggled to get the tight jeans down his legs. She grabbed at the waistband of his boxers next, but he stopped her. A quick pull got his shirt off over his head.

Estrella was startled that he would suddenly let her have so much skin. He picked her up and set her in the shower. The water was nice, but touch is what she really wanted. The man got in with her and she hoped that he would finally help her with the terrible aching emptiness. No. A feel of him through the shorts he refused to take off showed that he was still useless.

"You don't give up, do you?" he taunted her.

"Rrgh!" she complained for his lack of help and his annoying, smug smile.

Their wet skin slipping together was better than anything yet. He had strong shoulders and his hair made a good grip. He started putting smelly shampoo in her hair while she found a good mount on his thigh. She didn't care what he did with her hair as long as he let her ease the incessant pressure. His thigh was hard and he held it just right for her. That helped a little. It was maddening that he had nothing to get inside and ease the need she felt. Couldn't he at least us his hands?

She let go of his shoulder and grabbed at his fingers.

"I can either wash your hair or keep you from falling, 'cause you're sure as hell not helping any. No, you can't have my fingers. Stop that! Fine, bite me, but let me get the shampoo before it runs in your eyes," Bucky fussed at her.

He gave up doing anything but holding the shower spray on her head and keeping their balance. She wanted his hands, she wanted his dick, she wanted anything, but she settled for hanging onto him like an octopus and getting off on his thigh. Steve would probably try to kill him for letting her do this, but it wasn't the girl's fault. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, especially if the girl couldn't remember any of it to tell him about it afterward.

"Gimme a second, would ya? Stand on both feet so I can get your hair rinsed," Buck told her.

He pushed her off him and pretty much wrestled her upright by her hair. She yowled at him, but he got her head rinsed. Her hair was tangly, too squeaky clean to let go of his hands easily. Dutifully, he worked conditioner into her long black mane until his fingers could slip easily through it. She seemed fascinated with his chest while he soaped the rest of her. That was fine if it kept her busy and out of his way while he worked.

The water started going cool. She didn't like that but they weren't done yet.

"You'd probably want to shave. We're not trying that. Yeah, your armpits are ticklish. I get it. You want to smell? Quit thrashing around, I'm tryin to clean you! Who am I askin? You don't care right now," he made conversation while he worked soap over her skin.

Buck couldn't make up his mind if this was groping his best pal's girl's tits, or if it was more like bathing his baby sister. Sure, she had a great rack, all a guy could ask for and more, but there was a lot more of her to get washed. He moved on. Her ribs were ticklish too. He smiled to get a laugh out of her after all her growling and fussing. He hadn't yet figured out how he was going to wash her girly bits, so he put that off by kneeling down to get her legs and feet.

Estrella went still and quiet in her over-wrought excitement. He could use his hands or his mouth on her. He had to. He'd touched her all over. There wasn't much left except where she needed it most. She let him lift one foot then the other to run his soapy fingers between her toes.

The water was cooling her skin. She didn't like the cold but she held still to wait for what he had to do next. Anticipation was winding her tight, clenching her insides. He was so confusing! She didn't trust him at all to act as he should. He looked like a good man, aggressively strong and capable, but he'd disappointed her time and time again.

Buck set her pretty little foot down and looked up at the daunting task that remained. He tried to imagine that this was his favorite girl, his only girl, and that Steve was the one who had to get her clean. What could he do to finish the job that he wouldn't want to tear Steve's head off for, if this was his girl and they'd swapped places?

"I don't suppose you'll do this part for yourself?" Buck asked her.

He offered her the soap. Instead of taking it, she set her feet apart and put up one hand to hold onto the shower curtain rod. Her other hand went to his shoulder. The girl's eyes burned down at him with certain expectation. A demand, really. She wanted. He was supposed to give.

"Geez. Alright. He's gonna kill me if you remember this and tell him about it," Buck grumbled.

He soaped his hands and slid the flesh one up her thigh so as to not startle her.

"Do me a favor and don't tear down the shower curtain. We're wrecking Wanda's place enough as it is," Buck said.

She didn't need soap to make her slick. Buck wasn't the kind of guy to primly not look while he worked. If he was in for a penny, he figured he was in for a pound. The girl was deep pink and swollen. That was definitely something he shouldn't touch; first because it wasn't his, and second because she looked shiny, delicate, and likely hyper-sensitive. His right hand was rough and the metal hand wasn't any better, with its seams and edges. Even a soapy washcloth would be too abrasive.

"Sorry, doll. Here goes," he murmured.

He pushed soap suds through to her bottom and cleaned between her nicely rounded cheeks. She wasn't really dirty there but he rinsed her well and soaped his hand clean. Estrella pitched her hips forward when his fingers skimmed her labia. She was slippery enough with girl juice that it wasn't all going to come clean with one swipe. He rinsed her and lathered up again.

"Bucky, please," she begged him.

Even numb as he was, her desperate body language and the pleading in her voice sparked some sensual empathy. He didn't want to fuck her. He wanted to ease her distress. The feel of her flesh on his hand was hot and inviting. The press and slide required to get her soapy, then clean and rinsed made it clear exactly where he would fit, where she needed him. Where she needed Steve.

Buck couldn't decide if it was better to have mercy on her and finish her off, to satisfy the pleading, hungry sounds she was making, or if it was better to have mercy on Steve and leave the girl alone. God, she was strong. Even over the soap suds and the fragrant shampoo, he could smell the sweet female musk that was meant to get her what she wanted.

She rubbed against his palm with little twitches while he gently parted her to make sure the cool water rinsed away the last of the soap. She wouldn't stay clean for long. Her body was constantly making slick. He took his hand away from her. He wanted to lick it.

What the hell? Buck was alarmed to feel heat pooling toward his groin. Why the fuck would he want to get a taste of her? Estrella went a little crazy when he took his hand away. She was on him again, pushing at his thigh with angry intent. It was all he could do to keep her from touching his shorts. If she knew she was getting to him, he'd probably have ten times the fight on his hands.

"Bucky," she demanded.

"What? Back off and let me at the faucet handle. The water's gone cold," he said.

It was difficult to move her around, turn off the shower, and keep her away from his wet underwear at the same time. Her fingers were starting to claw at his back.

"You're different," she said with eager surprise, like a hound who'd found a scent trail to follow.

The tones of her voice tickled his brain. Fuck. This was bad.

"Yeah, you're pissing me off. Stop acting like a needy brat and get dried," he told her.

He shoved her away with a dry, fluffy towel to the face. He had to move fast. Before she could regain her balance and see that he was leaving, he made his escape from the bathroom and locked himself in her bedroom. It only took a half second for her to notice that he'd gone. She pounded on the door and growled at him in words that would make Steve's ears burn red. Buck dug in his bag for a clean pair of jeans. His soggy boxers hit the floor. There was no time to be neat. His skin was wet and his legs snagged getting into the jeans.

The sight of his cock half hard before he zipped it away made him smile. Then he frowned because he shouldn't be happy about getting hard on his own right now. It was the worst time possible. Had the suppressant in his arm chosen now to run out? It was more likely that the intensity of Estrella's fertility had overcome the suppressant, or that his body supplied the stuff as he needed it and being exposed to her had made him burn through it at an accelerated rate. Either way, this was a bad thing, not a good thing like his body was telling him it was.

Somehow the girl sensed that he was no longer indifferent to her. He had to fix this.

"You appear to be in distress. Shall I send assistance?" Jarvis wondered.

"No. Get me Banner. On a call," Bucky said.

"James?" Bruce's voice came immediately over the house comm system.

"I need whatever you've got but I can't leave her," he said.

"I can't go there," Bruce said.

"Natalia can spell me," Bucky said.

"She and Tony have a meeting with the mayor and the city council starting in twenty minutes. I don't think she can cancel," Bruce said.

He sounded concerned. They both understood the implications of his suppressant depleting while he was tending to Estrella.

"Fuck," Bucky hissed.

Estrella had stopped trying to get into the bedroom. What was she doing? Her silence worried him. He was going to have to go out and check on her.

"I'll manage until her meeting's over. Estrella needs a sedative. She's tiring herself out and not sleeping well. Can you send something for her when Natalia comes?" Buck asked.

There was a loud thump and the door vibrated.

"Yes. What's that sound?" Bruce wondered.

"Battering ram. She's trying to get through the door," Bucky said.

"Sounds like you're stuck in a horror film," Bruce said.

Bucky could hear the dry smile in his words.

"Right, only she's the sexy part and the monster all in one," Buck smiled back.

"You're sure you won't become the monster?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah. She's just a girl. I've got this. Hurry Natalia along soon as you can," he told Banner.

The call went dead. It was quiet outside the bedroom. Too quiet. Buck made sure his dick was angled off to the side where even if Estrella saw it, she couldn't get at it. He had to get out there before she hurt herself or broke Wanda's apartment. A quick glance around showed him where her butterfly necklace was. He snatched it up and went to the door.

Estrella had the heavy couch half turned around toward the bedroom door. She looked up at him when he opened the door.

"What were you gonna do? Ram your way in with that? It's too heavy for you. Good try, though," Buck said.

She flew at him, her feet barely touching the couch between them. He caught her and slammed her down into the cushions. He had to get the necklace on her before she said much more.

Wild wet hair and over a hundred pounds of determined, naked woman thrashed at him while he fought to get the clasp closed around her throat.

"Fuckin hold still!" Bucky barked at her.

"No! Give it!" she shrieked back at him.

Fine. If it shut her up and distracted her, he would. Buck laid his weight into her and pinned her down just how he knew she would like it. She let out a happy yelp and started squirming under him. It was mostly her lower body wiggling and bucking around, so he was able to get the necklace secured onto her. She didn't seem to care that he'd collared her. It was all she was wearing. Some kind of clothes had to be next or it would look shady when Natalia finally arrived to help.

He knew she would follow him. Bucky got off of her and went back to her bedroom. Sure enough, she was right there when he stopped at her dresser. He took out a little shirt of the sort she'd been wearing and then he dug for some underwear in the top drawer. She kept trying to push the drawers shut and turn him around but he persisted in the task at hand.

Estrella grabbed the waistband of his jeans and tried to swat the clothes out of his hands. He grabbed her up by the ass and dumped her on the bed. She was easy, really. All he had to do was make her think she was about to get sex and she'd let him do anything. He had the skills. He could hit a moving target. While she kicked at him, he roped her panties onto one foot, then the other. He slid them up with his hand between her legs. She went still and compliant until she figured out that he was dressing her.

Bucky laughed with delight while she fought him. This was great. He loved a struggle and she was a beautiful handful. Rough hands at her hips and an upward jerk got her panties where they were supposed to be.

"Noo!" the girl yowled at him.

She tried to shove the garment off but he didn't let her. He forced her to her feet and pushed her against the wall. Her hands stopped trying to evade him when he gave her nips a rub. She liked that and it kept her attention well enough for him to slip her arms into the shirt one at a time.

Estrella growled and snapped at him some more when she found herself dressed. She wanted to get out of the clothes as soon as he had her in them. To stop that, Buck swatted at her ass. She had too much energy. He had to either make her dance or sit on her until Natalia got here.

He tried chasing her but she wouldn't run away. It was fun for a while to get her to chase him instead. She was quick for an untrained girl. He led her out of the bedroom, through the living room, over and around the furniture. She forgot about taking her clothes off in her haste to get her hands on him again.

Buck stopped after he leapt over the back of the couch for the fourth time. He had to move fast to catch her when she stumbled while trying the same move. His rough handling of her was leaving bruises and red marks on her exposed skin but a broken nose wouldn't heal so fast.

"Bucky," she pleaded forlornly.

He was glad to see she was tiring from the exertion.

He felt alive. Exhilarated. Almost like a kid again. It felt mighty fine to be fully hard without having to abuse himself at all. She smelled so good it made his mouth water. He had to look away from her eyes. Estrella wanted to snuggle and rub against him. That wasn't a good idea until he got himself under control. She'd figured out she couldn't catch him or force him against his will, so she was trying to play sweet and cuddly. He could see through her act. It was just another angle to get at him.

The problem was that he was starting to want to give her what she was asking for. He pushed her away as sharp recall of the sight, the feel of her hungry little quim played in his mind. He didn't need to remember her smell. It was in the air all around him.

"Bedroom," he groaned.

"Bucky," she agreed, and went with him.

"Steve," he corrected her thinking.

Her hands were all over him. It felt good. He was drowning. Steve's girl, he reminded himself. He shut them inside in case he lost track of time and Wanda came home unexpectedly.

Estrella was revved, on edge. Something had happened to the annoying, frustrating man. He was ready for her now. He'd said bedroom, so he was done running from her. She was pleased. She'd known that he couldn't resist her forever. Her voice, her eyes, her scent, something was going to work on him eventually. He was full and proud in his pants. She only had to get him out of them. His skin was hard and warm like fine leather. She rubbed at him and pushed her fingers along the firm curve of his ass, under the edge of his clothes. Soon as he turned sideways or she could get an arm around him, she'd have what she needed. He was headed for the bed. She liked his broad back, even with harsh metal for his left shoulder.

Her excitement leapt in the moment he turned and put his arms around her. Bucky let her fingers work at the button and zip of his pants. Then he spun her away, trapped her tightly in his arms and sat them down in the chair beside the bed.

She shrieked and bucked against him. His metal hand covered her mouth and pulled her back against him to silence her outrage. She could thrash all she wanted but she wasn't going to scream and make the neighbors call the cops, and she wasn't going to get away from him to cause more trouble.

Beside. And under. Useless, again! It was even more infuriating that he was hard for her now, but firmly put away where she couldn't get at him. What the hell was he saying? It made her spitting mad when he talked in his stupid, rough language and she couldn't understand him. Was he making fun of her or reading off a shopping list?

"…freight car," he said aloud.

Using his Hydra training to manage the girl felt like weakness. He did it anyway. His mouth watered from her scent. His body burned at the feel of her wiggling and pressing at his erection. James had alleviated what he could by getting her necklace on and turning her eyes away from him.

Her fractious, lusty sounds remained to tempt him. He muffled them with enough careful precision to let her breathe. If she wanted to inhale, she could do that. If she wanted to exhale quietly, she could do that too. It was only when she wanted to loudly whine and plead at him for sex that he clamped his hand down and cut off her air. She was trainable. Humans liked to breathe. She quickly learned to comply.

Estrella tugged at his hand over her face. He was merciless. His strength and defiance thrilled her. His left arm across her hips was like a steel bar, unmoving no matter how she struggled. The bruises were worth it to feel his power. She began a rhythmic squirm, helpless to do anything but breathe and to try to get some relief from the desperation he caused her.

"You like the fight, little night-flower. It rouses your desires. This will confuse him. I need to train him for you, yes?" he offered her.

"Shut up your stupid foreign words. Damn you! Nnph-!" Estrella groaned.

She attempted to get herself centered over his thigh. He had impressively hard muscles. She could make do. Rubbing was making her sore but she needed something against the pressure, something pushing back. James understood her goals and had no objection to them. He let her adjust herself.

"If you would only stop struggling, you could use your hand. I will allow you to breathe if you would not bother the neighbors with so much noise," he told her.

"English! English!" she fussed at him.

"If you shut the fuck up, I'll let you breathe. Then you could use your hand to get off," Buck told her snidely.

It blurred the line away from the Soldier mentality he needed when he spoke to her in English. He began to laugh at the back-asswards mind tricks he had to pull on himself to keep his cool until Natalia could come. It was a delicate dance to shock himself with memories of Hydra tortures and still not hurt the girl in his arms by either raping her or crushing her. The jolt of memory caused him to jerk and recoil. He heard her bones creak.

"You're killin me, doll. I don't wanna hurt you. Do us a favor. Think happy thoughts of Stevie and leave me the hell alone, would ya?" he asked.

Vivid memories of seeing the skin of his own face hanging tattered down his forehead pushed him further away from luxuriating in the scent of hot woman. He laughed again. He was fucked up in the head enough that he could learn to like a little dismemberment on the side of getting his rocks off. Steve was gonna be the death of his last sane brain cell.

"Why are you laughing?" she grumbled.

"You don't wanna know. Why are you talking? Doesn't matter. I'm askin, here. Be a pal. Do what you gotta do, but be quiet about it. There's an idea. Reach over there and get my phone. Yeah. Now get to the voicemail messages. I got several of him in there. Have a listen and keep your mouth shut," Buck said.

After that, he was able to retreat back into the refuge of the Soldier. The girl was distracted by the rumbly-pleased sound of Steve's voice in his mail messages. She listened avidly with his phone in one hand. She used her other hand as he'd suggested. He didn't have to keep her mouth covered because she was mostly just breathing and making soft sex sounds.

Heaven help him, his dick was feeling as angry and demanding as she was. Her smell, her sounds, her movements were pushing at the barrier of his calmness. Thinking in Russian felt cold. It helped remind him of who he was and the resistance he was capable of. The Soldier did not have physical needs, other than those necessary for imminent survival. He could endure until Natalia came.

Estrella got lost in the low, male timbre of Steve's voice. Bucky was finally functional, but he was only second-best. Second-best was denying her. Steve wouldn't deny her. If he was here now, he would give her more than sex. He would give her everything. All of him, like he'd promised. It was what she needed.

James listened to her whisper and fantasize about Steve, though her words were indistinct. He hoped some part of her remembered this longing when it was all over. James wanted the girl to show this kind of need and devotion to his friend. She was desperate enough right now to take almost anyone, but she'd prepared against that by getting herself to isolation. In her right mind, she knew who she wanted. With the kind of love and dedication Steve could return to her, James knew she wouldn't want anyone else once they stopped being idiots and got together.

James Barnes wanted his idiot friend and this idiot girl together. The Soldier was determined that he would get what he wanted. It was his job to not take what wasn't meant for him, so he wouldn't.

Hours later, Natalia found them much as they'd been. The two of them looked sweaty and frazzled. It was unusual to see James that way. The room reeked of girl sex. It was interesting rather than offensive.

James stood stiffly and set the girl away from him. Estrella immediately turned to him but he stiff-armed her away.

"She is your responsibility for a while. I am going," he said.

He tried to get past Natalia, but Estrella was in the way, not wanting to let him leave. Nat controlled the girl quickly and efficiently. Something was off about Barnes. Rather, something was finally on. She watched him while the girl whined and struggled against her. James dressed himself quickly and stomped into his boots.

"Hydra's suppression has failed. You are aroused. Where are you going?" Nat asked him.

"Away from here. Can you manage her without harming her? She is sly. She bites," he said.

"I am capable. James, don't-!" Nat called after him, but he was gone.


Buck made it into the cool darkness of Steve's suite in the tower. The place smelled of maleness and familiarity. Girl scent was all over him. He stripped off his clammy jeans and threw them into a hot, soapy wash load. He'd gotten a lot of confused attention from guys on the street. Estrella's scent on him was potent. He'd had to keep moving fast through the street crowds until he'd reached the safety of the tower.

"Would you like me to inform Doctor Banner of your arrival?" Jarvis asked him.

"Fuck off," Bucky growled.

He wanted Steve's shower for this. The punk had lots of bottles of soap and stuff lined up on a shelf. He might need all of it.

It took a half second of studying all the buttons and handles, but he got the shower going like a tropical storm. Buck grabbed the first bottle and slathered a generous dollop of it on. The first stroke along his hard, sore cock tumbled him to his knees.

Oh, God! This was like the sex he remembered. It'd been over fifty years since he'd felt anything like it. He was desperate to come, but the sensations were too dear to rush through. Buck couldn't stop staring at himself, at his hands working on himself. It worked! He wasn't broken.

The first time didn't last long, just like his first time with Maeve Dunbar in the stockroom of her father's general store. He was delighted and gratified that things worked like they should. The orgasm felt long and strong enough to make his body clench and curl in a hard arc. He almost shot himself with his own jizz. Buck laughed at the pure joy of it. He felt like a teenager and he intended to act like one too.

It was no use trying to get clean yet because he ended up targeting himself and much of the shower too. He got lost in it. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn't care where he let it fly. Steve's shower was safe. Nobody was waiting to get at his stuff. He could take his time.

The skin of his dick eventually got sore from abrasion, even with the slippery stuff from the bottles and his enhanced healing. His ass was sore, his nipples were sore. His lip was bloody from biting it. He had to stop when even his threshold for enjoying pain was reached and crossed.

"Mister Barnes, I hate to interrupt. I must inform you that if I sense any additional blood in the air I will be forced to call for medical assistance," Jarvis said.

"I was done anyway," Bucky rasped through a hoarse throat.

He pushed himself up onto wobbly legs. There wasn't that much blood. Just a few smears here and there.

"You're a pussy, Jarvis. This is nothing," he said.

"Thank you, Sir," J replied.

Buck took a while cleaning himself and the shower. He picked the bottle with the strongest fragrance to get the girl's scent off of him and out of the shower. It was some sort of body wash with mountains and bears and axes on the label. Was this shit a joke? Probably so, because it looked like Steve hadn't used any of it.

The pleasant soreness from rough sex put a grin on his face while he shaved. Blood didn't soak through the white towel around his hips and his nipples were healing already. He considered it a job well done. His dick wasn't fully soft even after countless rounds of service. That pleased him too.

Most of the warm fuzzies vanished when he ambled into Steve's freshly painted living room to find Banner sitting like a Zen statue. This place was making him soft. He hadn't sensed Banner's entry at all.

"Jarvis, there's no privacy, is there?" Bucky complained.

"Not when my people are in danger. You may inform the Captain of my failings at your discretion," Jarvis admitted with icy resolve.

"You done?" Bruce asked him.

The man's gaze diagnosed the way he'd abused his body, the parts he could see, anyway. Buck expected some kind of rebuke or judgement, but there was none. Only mild concern.

"For now. You have what I need?" he asked.

"I think so. I formulated it differently from your previous suppressant. The percentage of-" Bruce began.

"I don't care as long as it works. Can I get a minute to eat something, or are you in a rush?" he asked.

"I've got time. James, you know Steve wouldn't like this. If he was here he'd try to talk you out of it," Bruce said.

"That's why I'm glad he's not here. Are you alright? Being here, I mean? I washed everything, but the girl's scent is strong. If you could synthesize something like it we'd make millions," Buck half-joked while he made a sandwich.

"It's not a scent. It doesn't smell like anything. Pheromones are odorless. But yes, I can feel it faintly. Jarvis said it's through the tower along the path you took up to here. It's not strong enough in the air to cause any serious trouble," Bruce assured him.

"Smells like a scent to me," Buck said.

"Probably because your senses are enhanced," Bruce argued mildly.

It took Bucky a while to convince himself that he wanted to go numb again, even for Steve's sake. A capped syringe of fluid rested on the coffee table. Buck ate and stared at it.

"No one would fault you for keeping your virility, especially not Steve," Bruce said gently.

"Steve is a self-sacrificing schmuck. His opinion doesn't count," Buck denied.

He ignored the single eyebrow Banner used to point out the irony of him calling Steve names in this particular situation.

The danger was real. He knew the sadistic delight some of the remaining unaccounted-for Hydra officers and agents would take in breaking Steve into little pieces if they could get at his soft spots. Estrella needed protection.

Hydra wasn't the only threat. Slavery still existed in several parts of the world. If she was out alone and any scouts saw her rare kind of beauty she might end up in an underground market in Mauritania. By the time he and Steve found her, Steve wouldn't be Steve anymore and the girl would be useless at any kind of a normal life.

It was only sex. He could have more later.

"Natasha won't be happy with you," Bruce said.

Buck knew she wouldn't but it was his life, his choice. He had higher obligations than keeping Natalia happy. He got up and put his empty plate in the kitchen sink. Then he turned on the bright overhead light in the living room. The repaired coffee table would make a good work surface. Buck laid out his left arm across it.

"I don't want to do this," Bruce said.

He didn't move from the couch.

"You made the stuff. What did you think was going to happen?" Buck asked him.

"I thought your current suppressant would last long enough for you to not need it. I hoped that you would change your mind," Bruce said.

"Who in medical can do this? Where's Stark? He'll do it, won't he?" Buck asked.

He'd do it himself, but it was impossible to hold his arm open and work the syringe with one hand. Maybe he could find a spreader clamp down in the garage or a hack doctor in a back alley in Brooklyn. Buck got to his feet and picked up the syringe. He made it to the door before he noticed he was only wearing a bath towel. He needed to get fresh clothes on before he went anywhere.

"I would rather Mister Stark had no participation in this procedure. His sentiments toward Mister Barnes are beginning to change. This would mean a setback for him. Doctor Banner, as much as you find it distasteful, would you please reconsider? Mister Barnes does this with full consent and awareness of the consequences," Jarvis said.

Bruce made a pained face. Barnes was ready to head out the door to find another solution. No one was more familiar with that arm and the physiology of the man than him. He didn't want to do it, but if James was going to see it done one way or another, Bruce knew he could do it most gently.

"I'll do it," Bruce conceded.

Buck came back to the living room and put his arm across the table. He looked to Bruce with one wish.

"No tools, doc? I know you're strong enough. Could you just use your fingers?" he asked.

Bruce sighed heavily, but he nodded.

After it was done, Buck didn't stand around and wait. He had work to do. He went to his room, wiped on some deodorant and got dressed in fresh clothes. He didn't feel any different by the time he was ready to leave for Wanda's place.

"Are you sure this stuff works?" he asked Bruce, who was getting down Steve's bottle of bourbon from the upper cabinet.

"It's strong enough to temporarily emasculate me, so I know it should work for you. Give it time. It's got to make its way from the arm into your blood," Bruce said while he poured whiskey over ice.

"Time's wasting. I need to get back to the girl so Natalia can come home. Here. Use the syringe to draw some blood, then inject it back into my vein. That ought to get the last drop out of the syringe and put it to work," Bucky offered his arm.

Really, he was terrified. He didn't want to do this, except for Steve. Sex was great. Now that the stuff was refilled in the little capsule in his arm, he was afraid if he thought about it too much, he was going to rip into his arm and tear the ampule out. He knew where it was now. He'd seen it. He could do it before it took effect in his body. If he didn't get the stuff to kick in right now, he was afraid he was going to freak the fuck out and mess shit up.

Bruce was too resigned to the situation to argue. When Buck offered his arm and the mostly empty syringe, Bruce did as he asked. Dark red blood filled the chamber, mixed with whatever suppressant residue was left in the syringe, then Bruce plunged it back inside to circulate in his body.

The effect was almost immediate. Buck ran to the bathroom and hit his knees in front of the toilet. He puked until he could feel his eyes going bloodshot. It was worse than a kick in the balls. A concerned hand touched his shoulder. He smacked it away.

"-overdose. What are your symptoms?" Banner was talking before he could hear over his own noise.

"I feel great, doc. Thanks for askin," Buck said.

The wave of gut-wrenching misery passed as his metabolism kicked in and processed the overdose out of his blood. Bucky put his hand to the wall, flushed away his supper, and stood up. Bruce frowned at him and looked a little green around the edges while Bucky brushed his teeth.

"It's nothing to get angry about. I wanna do this. If you wanna smash something, help us get Hydra, and then maybe we can go after the slavers. Then she might be safe," Buck said.

"I've lived everywhere. Slavery will never end. I'm on board for Hydra but after that, I'll go back to being mad at the world in general," Bruce said.


Bruce was right. Natalia took one look and turned her nose up at him.

"I can't believe you did this to yourself," she said stiffly.

She got up from Estrella's bedside and shouldered the bag she'd brought. The girl was sleeping, sort of. She moaned and moved sluggishly. It was an improvement that nobody had to hold her down or keep a hand over her mouth.

Buck took the chair that Nat left empty. There was a little brown plastic bottle of prescription sedative pills on the dresser.

"I did this to myself, Talia. My choice," he pointed out.

Wanda was home, sitting in front of the television trying hard to ignore the people in her house. Natalia shut the bedroom door. She turned in the dim light of the bedside lamp to hiss at him over the girl in the twin bed.

"Do you think anyone is worth doing this to yourself? You know better. People will let you down. Steve is dangerously idealistic. I didn't think you were so naïve. If he gets himself killed and you're left with the girl, are you going to keep yourself like a eunuch for the rest of your life to protect her?" she asked.

Buck noticed that he was able to appreciate her beauty, her pale skin, and the fire in her green eyes. Her anger didn't make him hard like it used to years ago but he could remember the feeling. Maybe Banner's suppressant recipe wasn't as harsh as Hydra's had been. Sex was like an old man's fond memory when he thought of it. That was better than it feeling like something he'd read about in a textbook but never experienced himself.

"However long I keep myself like this, it'll be my choice, Talia. Thank you for your help. Was she any trouble?" Buck asked.

"Only at the beginning, before I tricked her into taking the sedative," Nat admitted.

She could see that James wasn't going to argue over his choices. James wasn't going to admit to her that he knew how to rip out the suppressant. If she didn't know that, she wouldn't stay at him to undo it.

Nat gave him one last venomous look, then she left.

Buck smirked at the broken glass on the floor. There was a rubber dildo lying on the carpet in the middle of a shattered picture frame. He glanced up at the wall, to the nail the picture had hung from. Talia had brought more than one kind of relief for the girl, but she'd clearly not wanted this one. He would have gotten a laugh out of flying dildos, but not in the state he was in when he'd left earlier.

"Steeeve," Estrella called softly from the bed.

Her hand rubbed at her belly. Her face looked pinched with discomfort even in her drugged sleep.

"No plastic sex for you, huh? I can't say I blame you. Ain't none of us getting what we really want, but only some of us are high-falutin enough to hold out for the real thing. Hats off, doll," Bucky told her.

Natalia wasn't really mad at him. She was pissed off in principle. He wasn't queasy about being numbed up again, now that the stuff was in effect. Banner would have his whiskey and move on to worrying about other things. If he had any luck, neither Steve nor Estrella would learn that he'd gotten a refill of the suppressant. The girl said she wouldn't remember things. Jarvis was logical, without the agonies of conscience that caused people to confess things that were better left silent.

Buck enjoyed a quiet evening while the sedative allowed the girl to rest. He did some dishes that weren't Wanda's responsibility, then he cleaned up a little glass and put away the dildo. Maybe when Estrella wasn't so cranky and demanding she'd want it later. Maybe not. It seemed she and Steve were fairly well matched in stubbornness about what they wanted.

Steve had indicated that he hadn't had sex with Carter but that he could have. Buck believed him. The girl had listened to his messages. She probably believed him too. He knew Steve wouldn't have wanted Estrella to listen to his latest message. There was too much plain male honesty in it for a girlfriend to appreciate. Letting her hear it seemed like a good plan to Bucky. If she didn't like listening to Steve go on about how fun dating was, maybe she would let him out of it and marry him.