Hi All! In this one Brooke doesn't even try to untangle her feelings and we are getting to the first Plan B mission :) Enjoy!

"Brooke?"

Monna steps out of the elevator at the 53rd floor. She and Brooke have a plan for tonight, a night out, and Monna can't wait for it.

Brooke and she, they know how to have fun and they had some amazing nights in the past.

So Monna decided to look her best: she wears a red miniskirt that leaves her long legs uncovered, high heels and a black camisole. Her long auburn hair is let down and her lips are tinted red.

"In here," Brooke calls from her room.

Monna is about to head there when she hears a deep voice from behind.

"Am I in a wet dream or did you miss the floor?"

"Is there any chance not every woman in the building is here because of you?" Monna asks as she turns around.

And she finds one of her past mistakes right in front of her.

"Oh. You." Well, she doesn't remember his name. He was in Testing when they first met. He didn't have such thick arms back then but the cheeky smile is the same.

The man raises an eyebrow.

"Monna."

So he does remember her name. This cannot get any more embarrassing, Monna figures.

Was it George? Greg? Something with G, she muses.

She smiles at the man.

"Hey. I just came to pick up Brooke." She glances at her friend's - still closed - door. "Brooke?"

"Just a moment," Brooke calls back.

"At least you remember her name," the man, who never called Monna after that night, remarks. What an entitled jerk.

"I hardly remember mediocre nights," she shoots back.

The guy smiles at that. "Ouch."

She hears a sharp meow and Blue appears rubbing her head into the man's shin. He bends over to pet her.

So he is familiar with the cat. And now that Monna thinks about it, he is in the Plan B quarters. And she hasn't seen him in the Testing department for a while.

"So you work here now?" She asks nonchalantly. She doesn't really care about smalltalk, she just wants Brooke to open the damn door already.

"Yeah. It is more exciting than weapon testing. And I get to train with the Black Widow," he winked.

"I guess that is all the motivation one needs," Monna responds.

"Not exactly. I find much more motivation in the chance to improve my pickup lines. I'm an Avenger and stuff like that."

"I suppose you haven't been improving your skill of calling the next day," Monna bites out.

The handsome guy smiles a little wider and more cheekily.

"You fell asleep in my bed, tried to sneak out at dawn and then told me you didn't even want to give me a fake number because that was already too much effort on your part. Then you left through the window down the fire stairs."

Monna stares at him. She only had one card up her sleeve and he just trumped it.

"Funny, I am usually much sweeter to guys who give me a good night," she shrugs. Sure, it is not fair. It is definitely dirty play and she is immensely relieved when Brooke finally opens the damn door.

"Alright, coming. Coming, I just had to—" Brooke says as she steps out of the room wearing a pair of red jeans and a dotted sleeveless top. "Oh, Garnett. Listen, can you give Blue dinner?"

Garnett clicks his tongue as Monna turns back to him.

Garnett. Of course.

Brooke frowns at the unusual reaction from her teammate.

"If it is an issue I can ask someone else."

Garnett smirks. Blue still leans against his leg.

"It is not an issue, Marlow. Go on, girls, have a nice evening. Do try to remember his name this time, Hudnall. Just to avoid awkward situations," he winks.

Monna groans as she grabs Brooke's wrist and drags her into the elevator.

"What happened?" Brooke asks, the amused smile already tugging at her lips.

"I might have forgotten his name," Monna admits grumpily.

And there it is. Brooke gives up any effort to spare her feelings, Monna concludes, as her friend starts laughing so hard it reverberates through the metal walls of the elevator.

"You could have warned me," she remarks coldly. "That he works in Plan B now."

"It is called the B01 Project and if someone should keep a list of your past shags it's you, Mo," Brooke remarks still chuckling.

Next morning when she wakes up Brooke decides there must be something in the whole Karma concept.

Monna had a good sleep as their text exchange confirms and woke up in her own apartment.

Brooke on the other hand nurses a hangover and she has no idea where she is.

As the guy who walks into the room wearing sweatpants and holding a cup of coffee informs her, they spent the night together.

Yes, she definitely shouldn't have laughed at her friend so much. Monna might have forgotten Garnett's name, but Brooke never even asked the stranger about his.

So it is safe to say she is cranky when she gets back to the Tower just before 8am. She has a training from 9am with Bucky.

When she enters her room she finds the official message on the message board screen that was installed in the rooms of the trainees.

She also finds a piece of paper folded in two on her desk.

Brooke,

Apparently you are neither in your room nor on the 50th floor, so I hope you are doing fine.

I just wanted to say goodbye. Some idiot released murder wasps (?) in South America or where.

Anyway, I'm going there with Steve, Tony and Nat - she does look hilarious in the suit she got for protection. Steve and I are genetically modified so apparently we don't need a suit because they can't kill us ("but Bucky," you might say, "it doesn't mean you can't feel pain," to which I might respond it's a valid bloody point).

We should be back in some days. Two, ideally.

Take care,

B.B.

Brooke smiles. She finds it endearing that Bucky took his time to leave her a note.

She doesn't smile when it turns out their training session will be held by the one and only Sam Wilson.

He looks like a snack in his sweatpants and the simple white T-shirt that accentuates his pecs.

Brooke finds it insensitive on his part as she just managed to drown her headache in a lot of water and threw in two painkiller pills too just to be safe.

"Welcome to the session called Nat and Steve are away," Sam starts making Hazel chuckle.

He winks before continuing.

"Now if we had a little more space I would send you out to run but it's shitty to run on the streets of New York. So the idea is simple: I stand here and you show me what you learned so far. One by one."

"Lazy," Brooke mumbles, if only to rile him up enough for him to acknowledge her presence.

Not that she cares.

She has actually started remembering the night before and as far as she manages to recall it it wasn't that bad. It was even nice.

At least Sam-Wilson-one-night-stand-level nice.

Still, Brooke feels cranky and she doesn't have the courage to look into the issue right now. Therefore the only thing she can do is be a brat and hope for the tension to ease.

"Wanna start, Marlow?" is all Sam asks though, and his trademark smirk is not on his lips this time.

Brooke shrugs and clears her throat. "Why not?"

She stands in front of Sam who switches to Falcon mode so visibly it makes a shiver go down on Brooke's spine.

The man in front of her is not the funny guy she had (or has) an awkward fling with.

This man is… well, a superhero.

Brooke bites her lip as she takes in the whole picture; Sam's whole body tenses as he follows the small movements Brooke make as she quickly warms up.

She circles her shoulders, wrists and neck, squats a couple of times and avoids eye contact with her opponent.

The tension is palpable in the air and Brooke's spine tingles.

"Whenever you are ready, Marlow," Sam says.

Brooke is so not ready.

But she smiles coldly. "I am ready," she lies as she lunges forward and aims to land a hit on his jaw.

He ducks and makes a half turn so he ends up behind her and hooks his leg around hers.

Brooke loses her balance and starts falling backwards but she manages to elbow Sam in the ribs.

The hit on the rib and Brooke's weight on him makes Sam lose balance too. They still struggle against each other when they hit the mat.

Brooke tries to peel Sam's arm off her shoulder while he tries to wriggle out from under her.

"What, are you leaving already?" She asks panting. Sam has an iron grip on her.

"I prefer to be on top. You know that, don't you?" He responds, his smile clear in his voice.

Her Sam is back, Brooke notes, and it relieves her immensely.

"What, that your masculinity is so fragile you always have to have control in bed?" She shoots back. "Yeah, I figured that much."

"If you have something to say about my masculinity—"

They both freeze when the siren goes off.

"We need every B01 Project member in the main meeting room in five minutes," FRIDAY's voice booms. "The Avengers have been captured in Bogotá."

"I just don't understand how that could happen," Clint says banging a fist on the wall. He stands at the back of the room. Nobody dares come close to him feeling the tension, worry and anger radiate off him.

Fury rubs his forehead. "Apparently the murder wasps story was for distraction."

"Really, and don't we have better intelligence than the fucking FBI?" Sam asks.

"I understand you are upset, gentlemen," Fury responds slowly. "My suggestion is, however, to concentrate on the solution instead of trying to uncover every mistake SHIELD has ever made."

Charlie Burke, the handler of the B01 Project clears his throat. "Seymour, Howse, you are to join agent Barton and agent Wilson to Bogotá."

Brooke frowns when Charlie stops talking.

"Charlie," she finally speaks. "I want to go too."

Fury is already on his feet and looks mightily annoyed to be delayed.

"Miss Marlow—"

"Sir, she can be an asset," Sam interrupts.

"I believe so, Wilson, that is why we hired her, after all. But two Plan B members are enough for this mission."

Brooke looks at Sam pleading.

"She is just worried for her grandfather," Sam says making Brooke snort.

He gives her a sharp look which she interprets as do you want my help or not?.

"Fine by me. Can we get to the jet already?" Clint growls.

Fury exchanges an exasperated look with Charlie and the handler nods slowly.

So 30 minutes later Brooke finds herself on the jet sitting next to Clint as they go through their weapons.

"You seem upset," she remarks just to say something.

Clint snorts.

"I suppose it is because of Nat," Brooke goes on. It is way easier to analyse the relationship between the two spies than to think of Bucky being captured and possibly tortured.

Clint observes an arrow. "Every time they send only one of us on a mission it gets butchered."

Brooke doesn't know what to say to that.

"She was pretty cranky when you were gone too," she responds when the silence keeps stretching between them.

Clint drops the arrow on one of the two piles by his feet and reaches for the next one.

"Marlow. You are sweet, really, but I happen to know it perfectly well that I am important to Romanoff. And I don't really want to talk about how important she is to me. So can we not go into a therapy session right now?" he asks.

So Brooke ends up next to Sam and Garnett who talk about baseball. It seems like the perfect topic to distract themselves.

Brooke looks over Sam Wilson.

He speaks with that light smirk on his lips but it does not reach his eyes. He is tense.

Garnett and Rufus are tense because this is their first mission and they have to prove themselves.

Clint is beside himself with worry. For his teammates, but most importantly for Natasha. Everyone knows that and Clint doesn't make any effort to hide it.

Sam is tense because his teammates are captured. He is probably also tense because he is the one who has to act as their leader given that Hawkeye is clearly not fit for the role.

Brooke watches the way he chats away as if he didn't have any problem in the world.

He plays the tough guy for the four people around him and she respects that immensely.

She respects him immensely.

It makes her forget how anxiousshe is to get back her grandfather who she obviously doesn't care about.

"Bucky? Bucky?"

"Steve, he is not here," Natasha responds. Her breathing is shallow and when Steve presses the dirty rag into her side to slow the bleeding down she hisses.

It is not sure where they are.

But it seems fairly sure that Bucky and Stark are not here.

Steve does not remember much. He was stung by those murderous wasp-like robots a couple of times but he is not sure that was what caused him to lose his conscience.

He woke up in a cell probably underground.

His skin prickles uncomfortably, his left foot and his right upper arm tingle where the stings left marks.

He found Natasha next to him.

Her weird looking protection suit is not on her anymore. She is left with her usual black suit.

She is pale and there is a gash in her side.

Their capturers clearly don't care too much if she lives or dies because all they provided them with was a dirty piece of cloth.

Natasha seems at the edge of consciousness and she bites down on her lower lip too hard but her whimpers of pain still reach Steve.

"It's okay," he whispers. "Don't speak."

Bucky is either not nearby or he is but he cannot answer his calls. Neither of those options seem attractive to him.

He also called for Stark but he did not answer either. Steve would not put it past him that he is silent out of spite though.

Natasha doesn't have much time. The rag is soaked red already and there is still a trickle of blood oozing from the wound.

"Shh," he coos when she opens her mouth again. "Don't speak. You need the energy."

He wishes he could concentrate on calming Natasha.

The spy trembles slightly and Steve can see she is scared.

He wishes he could provide comfort.

He wishes he was less scared than she.

He wishes he could stop calling Bucky's name because he gets even more scared hearing the echoes of his desperate, pathetically weak voice.

And for a moment he even wishes he was still that skinny, sick boy with his strong friend beside him on the couch in that cheap rented flat in Brooklyn.