Chapter 3

The Winter Soldier had never questioned an order from his superior. That wasn't his place. He was a soldier and soldiers followed orders. He had never asked why they wanted him to do something. Why someone needed to die. That wasn't his place. He was a soldier and soldiers followed orders. Soldiers followed orders. But this mission was different than all the others.

They would send a female here, but they didn't want him to kill her. They wanted him to have sex with her. Why? He knew it wasn't his place to ask that, but this mission confused him. They hadn't given him any explanations, even though he had asked the question out loud. It wasn't his place to question orders. Dr. Nolan had told him that he should think of this as a reward for all his hard work.

He could do whatever he wanted, as long as he wouldn't cause the female any permanent damage. Who was this female? They hadn't told him that either. A soldier probably. Or a HYDRA agent. Perhaps he couldn't understand this mission, but the more he thought about it, the less unpleasant it felt. He tried to recall the last time he had touched a female, but he couldn't remember. To him that was normal, there were many things he couldn't remember. It wasn't his place to remember those things. He was a soldier and soldiers followed orders. He waited patiently until the door finally opened.

"Have fun, sweetheart," he heard agent Rumlow's voice saying. "Just spread your legs and think about HYDRA. Or me. There's no panic button, by the way, so, you two crazy kids should probably talk about safe words before you get started."

The soldier didn't pay much attention to the agent's words, he was curious to see the female. Finally, she entered the room. His eyes scanned her quickly and efficiently. A Caucasian female, approximately 5''2, in her mid-twenties, slender, oval face, a faint horizontal line across the nose toward the tip, large pale blue eyes, heavy lower lips, pale skin, light brown medium length hair.

She wasn't what he had expected, she didn't seem like a soldier or an agent. No, she just seemed nervous, especially after Rumlow slammed the door shut. He observed her silently, unable to decide what to make of her. Again, he couldn't help but wonder what the purpose of this mission was and why had they chosen this particular female. Slowly she turned to look at him, like a timid mouse who was facing a cat.

"Hi," she said. Insecurity, nervousness, fear. How did they expect this female to complete her mission?

"I'm Darla." A pause. "Yes, Darla. That's my name. What do you want me to call you?"

Why would he want her to call him anything? He didn't see what the purpose of any of this was. They were here to complete a simple mission.

"I would really like to call you something. How about Josh? I like that name, Josh. Joshua. I used to know a guy called Joshua, he was very sweet, but people usually thought that he was kind of strange…"

What was she talking about? This wasn't going the way it should, why were they wasting time?

"…he collected all kinds of things. Small things, like feathers and…"

"Why do you talk so much?" he cut in. It seemed that he needed to be in charge if he didn't want to fail his mission. Failing a mission wasn't an option. He was a soldier and soldiers followed orders.

The female blinked her eyes, she seemed surprised.

"Well, I… I thought that we could… I don't know, talk a little before…"

"Why?" he cut in again.

Her eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm sorry, you expect me to just strip and throw myself at you right away?"

That was what she was here to do, surely her mission had been explained to her.

"I have my orders," he stated, planning to explain their mission to her in case it wasn't clear. She almost jumped when he tried to approach her.

"Woah, woah," she said and raised her hands for some reason. "I'm cooperating, alright? There's no need for manhandling."

What? What was wrong with this female? He had been instructed not to cause her any permanent damage and why would he want to cause her damage in the first place? That wasn't a part of his mission.

"Could you just give me a moment?" she murmured. "Please."

He didn't say anything, he was hoping that the female would become more rational. Why had they chosen someone who clearly wasn't suitable for the mission? At least it seemed that she was trying to calm herself.

"Okay… Okay. Is there… Is there something you need? From me."

What was she talking about now?

"I don't understand the question," he stated, starting to feel somewhat irritated.

"Do you need me to do something?" she added. "Or is it better if I just…lay down?"

Truth be told, he had actually forgotten the physical act itself. He hadn't had time to plan any details, he had been busy dealing with her irrational behavior.

"Look, maybe this is completely normal to you, but it's not to me. Could you please stop making this harder…"

"Stop talking," he snapped, finally losing his temper. He was the one making this harder? Really? "Lay down," he instructed firmly, just wanting to get this over with already. "We must finish our mission."

Her eyes widened and she flinched. Apparently, she had no intention to make this easier.

"Fine," she murmured without looking at him. "Do you want me to remove all my clothes?"

The question surprised him; he hadn't had time to think about that either. As far as he could tell, her body looked quite pleasant, and he wouldn't have minded seeing her naked. He couldn't remember the last time he would have seen a naked woman. But of course, she had to make everything difficult by shaking like a leaf.

"Your pants will be enough," he replied, hoping that she would calm down.

Silently she moved next to his bunk and pulled her pants and underpants down her legs. She had nice legs, but her obvious fear stopped him from admiring them. Why on earth had they chosen her? She was shaking while lying down. It wasn't difficult to see how frightened she was.

"I would be very grateful, if you could be careful," she muttered. "Especially with your…hand."

She was terrified of him. And she was crying. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He needed to complete his mission. Failing a mission wasn't an option. He was a soldier and soldiers followed orders. Failing a mission wasn't an option. Failing a mission… No. He couldn't do this. He couldn't.

"Get out," he snapped. This was her fault. She wasn't suitable for this.

"What?" she murmured and gasped as he grabbed her arm. He needed to get her out of here.

"Get out," he snarled. "Now."

"What are you talking about…"

"I don't want you here."

Now she decided to stop crying and glare at him.

"Right, I see. Well, I'm sorry that I'm not your type, but sadly there's nothing either of us can do about that."

Was she serious? She couldn't honestly think that her not being "his type" was the problem here. Crying women who were terrified of him weren't his type.

"How do you think I could get out?" she continued, pointing at the door.

Unfortunately, she was right about that, but he still wanted her out as soon as possible.

"I don't want you here."

"Yes, I got that, but here I am."

What was wrong with her? Now she suddenly wanted him to finish their mission?

"Look," she sighed. "I know this doesn't mean anything to you, but what do you think will happen to me if I fail? What do you think they'll do to me?"

Now he understood. Of course he knew what they would do to her. And why shouldn't they, she wasn't in any way suitable for this mission.

"Fine," she snapped when he didn't say anything. "Fine. How about I'll just hide my face? Would that be enough or am I still too repulsive?"

Again with this ridiculous thought that he wouldn't find her physically attractive. There was nothing wrong with her appearance and he would have gladly followed his orders, if she would have just acted like a rational person. But technically she had done nothing to stop him from finishing their mission. She had been ready to finish it. Who would they blame? Not her. He was the one who had failed. What was he supposed to do then? Failing a mission wasn't an option.

"The mission was successful," he stated.

"What?" she gasped.

"The mission was successful," he repeated. "Would you agree?"

He knew how wrong this was, but he didn't see any other option. She wouldn't say anything, he was sure of it. She would suffer just as much or perhaps even more than he would.

"Yes," she replied cautiously.

Good, the matter was settled then. He wouldn't have to deal with her anymore. She did have nice legs though, he caught one last glimpse of them before she put her pants back on.

"Thank you," she said.

He suppressed his urge to roll his eyes. He didn't need her gratitude; he needed her not to bother him again. She had already caused him enough trouble.