Every spy worth their salt has an independent network of informants; it was always a give and take relationship, often buying information and instilling fear to ensure its reliability. Transactions were always in cash and often took place in dingy alleys or ancient diners that had yet to install cameras. This was how Lucie found herself in a greasy spoon diner at 4 am with her second strong cup of coffee in a chipped mug and a plate of pancakes that she was doing her best not to inhale.

It was the kind of place that had its tables bolted to the retro checked floor and chewed gum under the seats. Lucie didn't care about any of that, all that bothered her was that the coffee was good and that she had a clean line of sight that included both the front and the back doors. Coffee warmed the back of her throat as the caffeine slowly started to saturate her system. She had already compiled a list of insults and threats to give Henry when he asked her to meet at such an ungodly hour.

Henry was a good kid, smart and talented enough for the local gang to not only ignore him but actively push him away from their activities. The kid was going places and they weren't cruel enough to squash his chances to make something of himself. Still, Henry was valuable. You see, Henry's older brother Tobias was the second in command for the local gang and while he tried to keep his little brother away, he still heard enough to report it. Most of the time Lucie would pass it off to the police, letting them handle petty squabbles. In return for his testimony, Lucie arranged for his tuition to be paid.

Eventually, the bell above the door rang signalling that a patron had entered the diner. With about as much subtly as a bodybuilder in a ballet class, Henry stepped inside, double-checking over his shoulder to check that nobody had followed him. Nobody had, nobody with any sense was walking around at that time of day. Still, he checked again before making his way over to Lucie.

"I didn't think you'd come."

"It's four in the morning. This better be good."

"You said I had to tell you if things started getting strange."

"Go on then."

"The cops are on edge. They haven't made a single arrest in the neighbourhood all week."

"I bet your brother's over the moon."

Henry checked over his shoulder again before shrinking back into his seat as if it would swallow him up.

Draining the rest of her coffee in one gulp, Lucie made to get out of her seat, knowing that it would make the young man hurry things along if he thought he had lost her attention.

It worked, immediately, Henry scrambled to his feet, taking her reluctantly by the hand and leading her back to her seat.

"Wait! Don't go. Something is going on in the city, I got a cousin across town and he said it's the same there."

"I'm sure it's nothing, budget cuts or something like that. I'll look into it," she replied with a shrug, standing up again and making her way to the door, leaving a worried Henry still sat in the booth.

She tried to play it off cool, as if it really was nothing to worry about and as if it had been too tiny to pique her interest. In reality, it was always the small things that she looked out for. By the time the signs were obvious, it was too late, like a parasite slowly overtaking its host, best to nip the infection in the bud before it had the chance to flourish. The local police forces were always a good place to start looking for trouble. If they were suddenly making themselves scarce across the city then it didn't bode well.

It took him longer than he cared to admit to visit Peggy, at first unsure that she would want to see him at all. She had been part of the reason that he agreed to transfer up to DC, to be closer to the woman who had so much input in forming Captain America. When he eventually visited, he berated himself for not visiting sooner. Of all the places he expected to find her, a nursing home wasn't one of them, he assumed that she had retired to somewhere out in the country where she could have some peace. The nurses had been kind, explaining her various health conditions and promising to answer any questions that he had.

"You should be proud of yourself Peggy."

"Mm, I have lived a life," she said fondly from her bed, glancing over at the photographs that adorned her bedside table and pretty much every other surface in the room.

The ones beside her bed were her favourites; intimate family photographs that the public would never see know existed. Steve was glad that her entire life had been surrounded by children, some of them her own, some nieces and nephews, eventually grandchildren, even a great-grandchild. These weren't the photographs that caught his eye. That was reserved for two photographs in the back row, one framed in age tarnished gold and the other in dark stained wood. Beneath the slightly dusty glass of the gold-framed photograph, Howard Stark smiled at the camera with Peggy at his side. They stood outside a church with the pastor stood an awkward distance away from the pair as if not completely comfortable with being photographed. In her arms was a baby dressed in a white christening gown that Steve assumed grew up to be Tony. Steve was glad that they stayed in touch, happier still that they were friends.

The second photograph sent Steve into a silent rage the first time he saw it as yet more dots were connected and lies unravelled. In it, Peggy smiled, a moment of pure joy and laughter captured on film, beside an all too familiar woman with a rifle hung casually over her shoulder. The pair were dressed for hunting somewhere in the country, Peggy had never said where but every time she caught Steve looking she would say one of two things. Firstly, she would take the blame, claiming to have ordered Lucie their relationship to herself, knowing that Steve would need someone that he could trust to help navigate the twenty-first century. Next, she would comment on the photograph.

"Beautiful isn't she? Good instincts too."

Steve hummed, agreeing without ever saying the words. Reluctant to give compliments while still mad at her. After a few visits, he agreed, sometimes even offering a small smile.

"What is it?" she asked, leading Steve away from his own thoughts.

"For as long as I can remember I just wanted to do what was right. I guess I'm not quite sure what that is anymore. I thought I could throw myself back in and follow orders, serve. It's not the same."

Peggy chuckled. "You're always so dramatic. Look, you saved the world. We rather mucked it up."

"You didn't. Knowing you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I stay."

"That's the reason that Lucia stayed for as long as she did. I doubt it's the reason she came back."

"Then why did she come back?"

"You still don't know a bloody thing about women," Peggy taunted with a laugh that quickly turned into a cough.

When he got to his feet to hand her a glass of water she shooed him away with her hand until he took his seat again.

"She didn't come back to SHIELD for me."

"Maybe not. But she didn't come to DC for SHIELD."

Peggy smiled, remembering the day that she had offered Lucie a place in the academy.

Sixteen years old and freshly expelled from her latest boarding school after an elaborately orchestrated prank has escalated. It wasn't uncommon, she hadn't managed a full academic year in any of the schools that Tony had selected. The last school had been Peggy's choice, sure that the teenager would behave better if she were nearby and for a while, it certainly seemed to work. The truth was that Lucie was too much like her father and it didn't matter what school he put her in, she would be bored around kids her age that was always five steps behind her.

The longer Peggy followed the path along memory lane, the more she removed herself from the present, forgetting that she was even having a conversation at all. It was only when the memory started to fade and tear that she found herself suddenly focused on what was in front of her. Often with recent memories burned away.

"Steve?" she sobbed, unable to comprehend the man by her bedside.

Just like that, she had forgotten him all over again.

"Yeah?"

"You're alive You… you came, you came back."

"Yeah, Peggy."

The nurses had told him not to contradict her when it came to these moments. It never got any easier to see her so fragile and the guilt had found a permanent home in his heart.

"It's been so long. So long."

Tears streamed down her face that stretched into a victorious smile.

"Well, I do owe you a dance."

And just like that, she was gone again.

Henry's tip had checked out. Considering that they were in the capital of the United States she hoped that the security surrounding law enforcement would be more secure. The reality was that the DC police department could be hacked by anyone with a stable internet connection, a basic level of coding and the guts to try. The number of arrests was down by 37% in the last seven days. The cells in multiple stations were either empty or as good as. Even the bent coppers were keeping their heads down, not a single corruption cheque had been cashed in the last fortnight. 911 calls were at an all-time high but there didn't seem to be much of a police presence.

"Something's going on, question is; what?" she muttered to herself.

She kept the door to her office wide open so that she could hear the gossip on her floor. Despite their profession, the majority of agents were huge gossips. The only secrets that they could be trusted to keep were their own.

When she set her laptop on the desk that she shared with Natasha, she scanned the room for weapons. There were no loaded firearms under the surface of the desk or knives strapped to the back of chairs or secret caches hidden behind posters or under floorboards. Everything was so minimalist that Lucie wondered if it had been done intentionally. You couldn't hide a Glock beneath glass and digging into concrete to hide a false passport wasn't particularly subtle. Being in a new office, in a new building, in a new city didn't feel right. It didn't even feel like SHIELD in DC. Everything was glass and steel in a way that both stripped it of any character and somehow held a constant feeling of distrust. There were plenty of agents she knew roaming the halls and briefing rooms, some prepping for upcoming missions or catching up on paperwork.

"Just do as I say and you'll be fine," a familiar voice drifted down the corridor.

Immediately, Lucie shut the lid of her laptop to listen to the rest of the conversation. It was a tone that she had often been on the receiving end of. The lull of seduction and manipulation with all the bravado and bad boy attitude that came with a man like him.

"I'll try sir."

Lucie stiffened at the shake in the young woman's voice, the undertones of fear in her submission. She was new, probably newly qualified as an agent with no experience of men like him. Lucie was out of her seat before the thought had properly registered in her mind, casually resting against the doorjamb, just in sight as if she had been there all along and overheard the entire conversation.

"Everything okay here Rumlow?" she asked.

The young woman's head snapped towards the disturbance like a rabbit caught in headlights, panicked at the thought of being in trouble.

Rumlow took a step back, running his hand through his hair as if brushing aside a stray hair. There was nothing wrong with his appearance, in fact, everything from his hairstyle to the fit of his too-tight t-shirt was carefully curated to give the appearance of effortless power. Even though he was clearly off duty, he was armed with at least 3 weapons that Lucie could see, all selected for aesthetic rather than necessity. There was a handgun secured in a holster at his belt, perfectly cleaned and the newest model on the market, Lucie would have been surprised if it had even been fired. Beneath it was a that was a twelve-inch bowie knife for no other reason than to look intimidating. What use was a hunting knife in espionage? On the opposite side, a taser was safely stowed by on his thigh, probably just to have the trinity of weaponry on his person.

"Course. I was just showing Agent Vivaldi around."

If it had been any other agent then she may have given them the benefit of the doubt but tours were well below Rumlow's paygrade. If Rumlow was giving out tours then it was for his own benefit, the only question was what. The most obvious answer would be to get the young woman into bed but it seemed like a stretch for him, women weren't exactly lining up to sleep with him but they didn't tend to turn him down either.

"Nice to meet you. Lucia Stark," she smiled, her surname tasting strange in her mouth in a SHIELD setting, especially in front of Rumlow who seemed determined not to drop her old moniker.

Lucie was used to the looks newer agents would give her, the stunned expression when they realised who she was, usually, it came after they heard her codename, after New York, it was her surname. That all too familiar feeling was suddenly broken glass scraping against her skin. Her face didn't betray her, instead, she held out her hand.

"Agent Stark, it's a, it's an honour," Vivaldi stuttered, taking Lucie's outstretched hand enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Vivaldi was is?"

"Yes ma'am. Cora Vivaldi."

Beside her, Rumlow glared like a toddler who had just had his favourite toy taken away. It was on-brand for him, to see women as toys for his amusement.

"See you around, Cora. Stop by my office anytime.

"Thank you, ma'am."

With her point made, Lucie excused herself and headed for the elevator, making a mental note to look into Cora Vivaldi to see if she could figure out why Rumlow seemed too interested in ruling the woman by fear.

By the time she was in the parking garage, Lucie had made the decision to make a trip south in hopes of brainstorming some kind of solution or motive to whatever was going on in DC. Her identity was thoroughly checked before she was permitted to pass through the gates of the facility, her driver's license scanned and her name checked against the list of preapproved visitors. It was a peaceful kind of place, with plenty of trees and flower gardens to fill the space and sun chairs and tables dotted around the terrace for days when the sun was shining and the residents spent time outside.

If her mind wasn't compromised, it was the kind of place that Peggy Carter would have hated. The woman was far too independent and self-sufficient to be able to be able to enjoy a quiet retirement, these days she was forced to live vicariously through those that visited her. Lucie smiled at the nurses as she walked by, following the winding corridors to the room that she was looking for.

She didn't expect to see him sitting at her bedside, he hadn't mentioned that he was visiting. Had she known she would have kept her distance, letting them have their time together uninterrupted.

"Maria! Come in and meet someone," Peggy requested, genuine joy on her face at the sight of the man sat beside her.

Lucie's heart sank ever so slightly. She wasn't lucid, she had no idea who Lucie even was, her mind stuck in the past. She didn't contradict her, didn't offer up her name rather than that of her grandmother. The connection was still there, Peggy knew that Lucie was something to do with Maria but she couldn't quite bridge the gap so her brain filled in what it could. Lucie offered up a hopeful smile to Steve as she sat on the edge of Peggy's bed.

"We've met, haven't we Captain Rogers?"

"We have," he agreed.

"Maria, can you please call your husband and forgive him. The man is driving me round the bloody bend,"

They talked for a little while, Peggy asking about how Tony was getting on at school and whether or not Howard was still in the proverbial doghouse. Lucie played along, piecing together memories that had never belonged to her until the nurse announced that visiting hours were almost over.

"I hate seeing her like that," Lucie mused as she walked through the main door, car keys in hand.

"Is she like that a lot?"

"It's getting more and more frequent. I'm sorry for interrupting your visit, I didn't know you were here."

"Don't worry about it, we were almost done anyway."

Lucie lifted her keys and gave them a quick shake, asking if Steve needed a ride back into the city when she didn't notice his motorbike in the parking lot.

He nodded and followed her over to an expensive-looking Mercedes.

"Is this yours?" he asked in awe.

She was so careful when it came to spending and repairing her gear rather than replacing it that sometimes it was easy to forget just how many digits there were in her bank account. Back in New York, there had been no need to drive, the subway covered most of the city and yellow cabs covered the rest. In all that time together he had never seen her drive but assumed with her job that she could. A Jack of all trades, she had called herself.

"Fancy taking her for a spin?" she asked, perching herself lightly against the hood as she fished the keys out of the pocket of her leather jacket.

"No, I couldn't."

"You sure?" she asked, dangling the key from her finger like a hypnotist with a pendulum with a smirk on her face. "Technically I haven't been cleared to drive."

Steve frowned, immediately snatching the keys from her before she could do any more damage to herself. She had laughed so much with Peggy that he had forgotten all about her injuries from the Lemurian Star. It probably helped that she kept her jacket on the entire time, hiding any wound dressings from sight. Like everything else uncomfortable or painful, she pushed it aside with a handful of jokes and a half-cocked smile.