Prologue

Blood swirled around the sink, slowly being washed down the drain. Technical Sergeant Chanel Thomas furiously scrubbed off the blood that caked her hands, arms, and face.

Shit! That was not how this mission was supposed to end, she thought.

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she replayed the events that occurred moments before.

Perched on the edge of the granite countertop, Chanel sized her target up. Henri paced around the flat as he argued in hushed tones on the phone. His eyebrows were knit together, and his eyes shifted around quickly. He hung up the phone and gripped it tightly in his right hand as he rubbed his neck with his left.

Chanel recognized his tell, something was bothering him, "Henri, mon chéri, what has you so tense this evening?"

She poured him a glass of Charmes-Chambertin pinot noir awaiting his response. "Come drink with me," she said as she extended the drink to him.

He looked at her wearily and turned his back to her, leaving her hand suspended in the air holding the unwanted wine glass out to him. Her brows knit together in confusion as he walked to the bar and grabbed the 25-year Glenlivet bottle he never touched. Chanel watched as the amber liquid smoothly poured into his glass. She chewed on her cheek waiting for him to acknowledge her.

Chanel had been undercover for 6 months as a weapons dealer in Paris. Henri had been her ticket to finding her actual target, an international terrorist the US government had sent her to find, Andre Black. Since her successful seduction of Henri, she had never seen him drink scotch. Something had not felt right.

She sat the glass of wine down and called to him again, "Henri?"

Henri tilted his head back and threw the scotch down his throat. His hand came down hard and the loud clink of glass hitting the bar made Chanel jump. After taking a deep breath he turned around slowly and took in the beautiful creature who sat on his kitchen island. His eyes roamed over her curves that were accentuated by the tight black dress that adorned her body. He remembered when they met how he had been drawn in instantly by her warm sultry eyes and full pouty lips.

He stalked toward her with a strained smile planted on his face, "Tense? Who's tense ma belle?"

Henri stood between her legs, his breath was hot in her face, she could smell the scotch. His eyes never left hers and the storminess Chanel saw in them made her uneasy. She wasn't sure why he was withholding information from her, but she knew how to get him talking. Her lips curled up into a half-smile and she slid her hand up his broad chest, over his shoulder, and lightly gripped the back of his neck. She pulled him closer and slowly inched her lips closer to his.

"Let me make you feel better," she whispered against his lips.

His hands were planted on the counter as he leaned in to press his lips to hers. Chanel deepened the kiss and suddenly felt a tight pressure on her waist as he grabbed her roughly and picked her up off the counter. Henri had been rough with her in the past, but the crack she felt in her back as he slammed her against the kitchen wall knocked the breath out of her. As she tried to catch her breath she looked up at Henri's face. Her stomach dropped as she took in his expression. His eyes had gone dark and flat, his brows were knit close together, and his lips were pressed tightly together in a thin line of displeasure. The pressure on her waist increased as he squeezed tighter to keep her pinned between his body and the wall.

"Tell me it isn't true," he growled in her face.

"What's not true mon ché-" Chanel's words were cut off when sharp pain ignited the side of her face as Henri's hand made contact.

"Don't lie to me! I know who you are, Sergeant Thomas." Henri spat at her as he reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out his pistol.

Chanel's face hardened, her sultry persona melting away. "How did you find out?" She asked while her eyes searched the room for an escape route.

Henri roughly pressed the gun into her cheek, "I trusted you. Do you know the problems you've caused for me now?!" Henri faltered for a second, his eyes closing tight in frustration, "Andre is going to kill me."

Chanel took her opportunity and slammed her head into his, cracking his nose and sending blood everywhere. Henri stumbled backward with a yelp of pain. It was enough for Chanel to squirm out of her position between him and the wall. Before he could regain control, she rushed him, grabbed his left arm, and slammed it against the refrigerator, knocking the gun out of his hand.

"Salope!" Henri yelled as he threw a right cross at Chanel.

She ducked and came up fast with an uppercut to his jaw, knocking him back a few more feet. Chanel landed a swift kick to his chest knocking him into the kitchen island she had been perched on moments before. She hesitated as she calculated if she could make it out of the flat before he recovered. He seized upon her hesitation and tackled her to the floor.

She was pinned under his body and his hands wrapped around her throat. Chanel couldn't help herself, the corners of her lips curled into a small smile, "normally I would be enjoying this mon amour."

Henri's eyes darkened and his lips parted into an angry smile as he squeezed her neck tighter. She stretched her arm out and her fingers searched the kitchen floor until she felt the cool metal of the handgun. Her vision faded; she wouldn't last much longer. She grabbed the gun tightly and without hesitation, fired it twice into his chest.

His body slumped down onto her. She laid there and sucked in deep breaths, her limbs trembling uncontrollably. She forced his body off her and scrambled to her feet. His body was motionless on the kitchen floor, a pool of blood quickly spilling out from under him.

Her pulse was through the roof and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. Her instincts kicked in and she frantically searched his pockets for his cell phone. She grabbed her purse and pocketed the phone and Henri's gun. Her limbs were still shaking as she bolted for the door. In the hall, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were wild, her tawny skin covered in blood from head to toe.

"Shit, I can't leave like this," she mumbled to herself. She backtracked and ran to the bathroom in the back of the flat, avoiding looking at Henri's body as she passed the kitchen.

As she scrubbed Henri's blood off of her and tried to calm her breathing her cell phone rang. Chanel snapped her head in the direction of the phone, how do they already know I fucked up? Chanel held her breath as she looked at her phone but sighed with relief when she saw Sam Wilson's face smiling on her screen. Her relief was fleeting, Sam? He always texts first, she thought as her breath hitched in her throat. Chanel answered the phone as she slipped out of her bloodied dress and pulled on jeans, a white t-shirt, and her favorite black combat boots, "Sam? What's going on? Are you okay?"

Chanel listened to his reply as she walked quickly back toward the front door, she paused in front of the kitchen and stared at Henri's body and the pool of blood that had doubled in size. Her stomach knotted and her chest tightened. It had been a long time since a job had gone this bad.

Am I losing my touch? I shouldn't have gotten so involved, I slept with him for fuck's sake! Stupid! Is this how you really want to live your life Chanel?

As her thoughts raced, she chewed on her bottom lip and when Sam stopped talking she didn't hesitate to answer him, "I'll be there tonight."

The next call she made as she exited the flat was to her government liaison, "...things went south. I need an extraction. And cleanup. Now. I need to get to D.C. tonight." She didn't look back.

Chapter One: I'm Not Running From You

Her morning runs were always her favorite part of the day. Her dark hair - made longer by sew-in extensions - was tied back in a high ponytail, swinging rhythmically as she ran. The sun glinted off the caramel-colored highlights she had recently added to it. Nicki Minaj's "Yikes'' was blasting in her headphones as she finished up her last lap around Sam's block. She grimaced as another bolt of pain ran from her ribs up through her back. Her last mission had left her bruised and sore in many places. Still, she ran, she welcomed the physical pain in her body as it drowned out the deeper pains she didn't have the strength to confront. Running from her problems was what Chanel Thomas had always done best.

She felt like she had been running from something her whole life. Always running. How many foster homes did I run from? 6? 7? Who can remember, they were always shit people, it was better to be alone. I ran from everything in high school, I couldn't even handle the Black Student Association responsibilities, and Sam had begged me to join with him, she chewed her cheek as she pondered, letting her body run on autopilot.

Then there was Cameron, she thought as old sadness and guilt started to leak out of the box she had buried them in.

When her high school sweetheart, Cameron, was killed in a drunk driving accident she ran away from her grief and joined the air force with Sam. They trained together until their paths diverged, Sam chose pararescue while Chanel chose to do special recon. I thrived in the air force though, Sam and I both did, until Riley. Her time in the air force was the most committed to anything she had ever been, but when Sam's wingman and new friend of Chanel's, Riley died, she quickly reverted to old habits, and she and Sam both ran.

Since then, she had been running in more subtle ways and things only got worse after she lost Natasha, the only person, other than Sam, who Chanel thought of as family. Chanel and Sam were both blipped after the battle with Thanos. After the Avengers brought everyone back and Chanel realized Nat had died to make that happen, she couldn't handle the guilt or the grief. She had horrible nightmares and panic attacks. Chanel had thrown herself deeper into work, she took any government contract that allowed her to travel often. Her assignments were off the record, the US government used her on covert missions because of her special recon training and the extra spy training Nat had given her over the years. She had thrown herself into the lively party scenes of each new place she visited. Her list of short-term lovers grew longer with each trip. As did her list of regrets. The live fast lifestyle she had adopted helped to stop the nightmares but left her feeling hollow. So, when Sam called and asked for her help on a mission, she saw it as an opportunity to stop running and do something meaningful.

Now I just have to keep it together long enough to stay put for Sam. He's too important to run out on, she thought as she remembered all the times Sam had been her rock in the past. He had been the one that befriended her in school. He was the one that rescued her from the aftermath of Cameron's death. And even though as adults they rarely saw each other in person, he was only ever a phone call away. Even when he and Nat had been on the run for two years, he never missed a phone call from me.

Her thoughts continued to race as she rounded the corner of her home stretch. Sam had called it quits two laps ago and went back to the apartment, but Chanel just needed a little bit of extra time to clear her head today. The nightmares about Natasha had come back in full force since Sam had asked her to come to DC. Chanel tried desperately to get to Nat in the dreams and save her, but she was always too late. A new addition to her dreams, Henri's face as she shot bullets into his chest, had started after her Paris mission.

Now that the nightmares were back so was her guilt and her grief. She missed Nat every day. She hated herself for not being there. For not being able to save her. She hated that she had not gotten to say goodbye. Sam misses her too, I can see it in his eyes, I remind him of her, but it isn't the same for him, Sam has a family. Nat was the only other family I had besides Sam. I know Sam wants me to open up, but he has too much on his plate right now with the shield, and this new mission, plus he lost not only Nat but Tony and Steve too. What kind of friend would I be to dump my problems on him right now? No, I need to be the one to help him now. I can keep it together for a few weeks. Thank God he doesn't pry too much. Every night she had woken up screaming and every night he just held her until she fell back asleep. In the morning they would both pretend nothing had happened, Sam would be his usual jovial self, and Chanel would hide her pain and pretend to be her usual cheerful and flirty self. I wonder how long that's going to hold up, she chewed on her cheek again, nervous.

Suddenly another shock of pain cursed through Chanel's body. Ow! God! Since when is there a brick wall in the middle of the fucking sidewalk?! She tried to understand what had happened as she wrapped her arm around her bruised ribs.

Chanel had been so lost in her thoughts and music that she had run straight into the man who had planted himself in front of Sam's building between laps.

Finally realizing what happened Chanel began apologizing as heat crawled up her spine from embarrassment.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, I was zoned out, I'm so sorry."

She yanked out her headphones and scrambled to pick up the phone she had knocked out of his hand. Despite the warm temperature, the outstretched hand she placed it in was mysteriously covered by a leather glove. She finally looked up and saw who she had run into, James Barnes. Of course, I would make a fool of myself before officially meeting him, she thought.

"Here's your phone," she stammered, "again, I'm really sorry, um I'm Chanel Thomas, I'm a friend of Sam's, you must be James?"

"No harm done," he said, as he waved off her apology and pocketed his phone.

His intense gaze was just how Sam had described, but unlike Sam, Chanel didn't mind staring back into his exquisite blue eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, Chanel."

Bucky took a step backward, uncomfortable with how close she was standing to him, and even though being in and out of cryo over the years meant he had an easier time adjusting to current trends in fashion than Steve had, her revealing workout clothes still caught him off guard. Sam's friend? Of course he wouldn't mention this ahead of time, typical. His annoyance at Sam ebbed as he took in the woman standing in front of him, I've never seen eyes that glitter like this in the sun. Like gold. Nice body too - shit Barnes, pull yourself together. He shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

If Chanel hadn't had years of training from Nat, she would have missed the quick flicker of his eyes as they tracked down her body. So cute, he's trying to be subtle, I guess that is to be expected of a former assassin. He just doesn't know who he's dealing with yet. If I had to embarrass myself at least I did it in my best workout fit. She knew the fabric clung to her body in all the right places.

She smiled at him, "Lovely to meet you, James. Shall we?" she asked motioning to the door of Sam's building.

He led the way, stepping in front of her. Chanel's eyes tracked down his body, not ashamed to return the compliment, besides if he catches me, I could always use the excuse of sizing up my company to know who I'm dealing with. My general lack of clothing doesn't afford him quite the same excuse. Her pulse quickened slightly as she admired his broad shoulders. I wonder what muscles he's hiding under that leather jacket, she thought as she chewed on her cheek. He held the door for her, as they reached the top step, such a gentleman, or does he just want to check out my ass? Either option would be acceptable, she thought as she turned back just in time to catch his gaze that had settled on her backside. Knew it, she smirked to herself. She couldn't blame him too much though. The color-blocked leggings she wore had had her checking herself out in the mirror that morning.

Sam's voice boomed from down the hall, "I was wondering what was taking you so long Chanel. I see you met the world's current resident fossil already."

Bucky's jaw tightened, Sam's constant ribbing getting under his skin already. Chanel laughed, "Yes, I ran into James outside," she said, giving Bucky a quick smile. Bucky smirked at her choice of words. Chanel turned back to Sam, "and he doesn't look as old as you always describe Sam, I'm pretty sure you have more grey hairs than he does." She turned and winked at Bucky.

Bucky blushed and looked down at the floor. What is wrong with me? Blushing was classic Steve, not me. It doesn't matter anyway, if Sam didn't tell her everything already, she'll find out soon enough who I am and lose all interest. Bucky's face fell back into a hardened mask.

Sam laughed and playfully punched Chanel's shoulder. God, I am so glad Chanel is here to bring some fun back into my life. I'll finally get a break from cyborg over here, Sam thought as he looked over at Bucky's emotionless expression. I don't know how much longer I can try and get this dude to open up. He didn't even laugh at the hilarious joke I made about Walker the other day, and he hates Walker more than anyone right now. I know I'm funny too, at least Chanel always laughs at my jokes. Sam sighed and turned his gaze back to Chanel.

"Yeah, well whatever, he's still over 100 years old. Come on, we have work to do." Sam said as he led the party farther into the apartment.

"You guys go ahead and get started, I'm going to jump in the shower and finish packing," Chanel said as she made her way towards Sam's room to use his bathroom.

"Don't use up all of my fancy soap this time! You can only buy those in Munich you know!" Sam yelled after her.

Chanel kept walking and waved his comment off with her hand, "Only you can get them in Munich Sam, I have contacts all over the world, I can get you some more soap," with the last word she turned and gave him a haughty smile.

The left corner of Sam's mouth raised slightly as he rolled his eyes at her. Ignoring him she entered the room and shut the door behind her.

The brief, but flirty, encounter with Bucky was enough to keep her thoughts from drifting back to her nightmare. After Sam became an official Avenger, he had only ever introduced her to Natasha, with hopes that Chanel would wing-woman for him, but he talked about his teammates often. Chanel knew a lot about the Avengers and their various quirks, like how Steve had despised foul language, or how Tony, before he died, was always finding an excuse to throw a party. Sam talked about Bucky almost as much as he talked about Steve. Sam idolized Steve, but Bucky was always a question mark to him. Chanel didn't understand why Sam had such a hard time trusting him, especially when Steve had trusted Bucky with his life.

Sam's probably just mad that James doesn't find him funny, Chanel thought as she let the hot water from the shower relax her sore muscles, he always wants to be the most liked person in the room. After Steve took him to Wakanda, Natasha never expressed any distrust of Bucky, so there shouldn't be anything to worry about. Fuck. Stop thinking about her. She could feel her chest tightening as the grief threatened to overtake her. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to control her thoughts, but the memory she had been trying to avoid flooded in anyways.

"I'm sorry Chanel, I have to do this," Natasha said quietly.

"I don't understand, you just got back, why are you leaving? Where are you going? Are you even okay? You look pretty beat up Nat, just come in." Chanel was trying to control her panic, but her voice broke with her last statement.

"I'm fine Chanel. I blew all my covers helping Steve with this last mission, and I just need some time to figure some stuff out. I promise you'll be my first call as soon as I'm back." Nat smiled sadly at Chanel and hugged her before disappearing in the night.

Chanel had called Sam that night and got the whole story. He told her how they had fought The Winter Soldier, who ended up being Steve's best friend, Bucky. Sam explained what Nat had done to save millions of people, take down Hydra, and help Steve save his best friend. She understood Nat's desire to run, she would have done the same thing, but it didn't stop it from hurting that night. It certainly didn't stop the memory from hurting her now either. Any memory of Natasha, good or bad, brought tears to her eyes.

"Deep breaths Chanel. Deep breaths," she repeated to herself as she sharply inhaled air through her nose and pushed it out through her mouth.

After her heart rate began to slow, she shut the water off and wrapped a towel around her body. She walked towards the bedroom and as soon as she opened the bathroom door, Sam's and Bucky's loud agitated voices hit her ears. I better hurry up before they get more heated, they've probably been fighting this whole time, she thought as she glanced over at the clock on Sam's nightstand. How has it been nearly half an hour?! Sam's going to freak out about the water bill again, she thought as she hurried from Sam's room to her guest room across the hall.

She sat down in front of the mirror and touched up the foundation she had applied to cover the bruises on her face and neck. Her lips slightly turned down as the image of Henri's lifeless body intruded her thoughts. Sam knew her Paris mission hadn't ended well but she hadn't told him exactly how badly it had ended. She planned to keep it that way. I hope James didn't clock my rib injury when I ran into him...her thought was interrupted by another shout from the living room. She moved faster, shaking her hair out letting it cascade down her back and turned to her suitcase. Now that her thoughts had returned to the handsome man sitting in Sam's living room, her mood quickly improved. Now, what should I wear? We shouldn't be getting into anything too crazy today, she thought as she picked up her favorite leather skirt. She threw it on with a black long sleeve scoop neck shirt that showed off her curves and her favorite black knee-high combat boots. With one last glance in the mirror, she smiled at herself and headed toward the living room, dragging her luggage behind her.

The arguing had stopped, for a moment. She glided into the room and smirked at how far apart they were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, both staring ahead at the wall. The sound of her footsteps made them turn in her direction.

"Finally! Are you going to pay my water bill this month?" Sam asked annoyed.

"Shut up Sam, I've been here for three days. I don't think I'm going to impact your water bill that much." Chanel replied sarcastically as she wrapped her arms around Sam's shoulders from behind, squeezing him tighter and tighter until he cracked a smile. "You can't stay mad at me Wilson," Chanel teased, planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

Sam rolled his eyes and caught Bucky's side-eye glare. All business with the cyborg, I better keep Chanel on track before he loses it with her too, he thought as he pushed Chanel off him.

Bucky quickly looked away when Sam caught his gaze. Why is everything so easy for him? He has everything, Bucky thought as he dug his nails into his palms.

"Come sit down we need to go over the plan with you."

Sam motioned for Chanel to sit in the chair next to Bucky.

Bucky refocused and quickly went over the plan while Chanel nodded along.

The plan seemed pretty simple to her, they needed to get some information from Zemo. It seemed like a straightforward plan, they would fly to Germany tonight and tomorrow they would go to the prison and interrogate him together, she knew she would be good at that. She didn't know much about Zemo, but Sam thought he was dangerous, Bucky didn't seem to care.

Before Chanel could offer any thoughts on the plan, they were arguing, again. With an exasperated sigh, Chanel sat back in her chair. No point in trying to stop them. What is this their 3rd - no has to be the 4th fight since Bucky got here? Chanel zoned out, her gaze settling on Bucky, is it actually possible that he got more handsome in the half-hour I was gone? Once again, she was struck by his piercing blue eyes and the sharp lines of his jaw. Sam was not kidding about the stare either, he's practically staring through Sam, not at him. It might not be Sam's thing but it sure is doing it for me, she thought as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. She found herself wondering where Bucky's mind went when he was staring through Sam. His walls are probably built just as high and thick as mine.

"Chanel!" Sam broke Chanel's reverie.

"Yes?" Chanel replied reluctantly, peeling her eyes off of Bucky and looking at Sam.

"We need a tiebreaker, what's your vote?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't been listening since you two decided to start in on your 4th fight in the past hour" Chanel teased.

Sam gave Bucky an annoyed side-eye. It's not my fault he thinks he knows everything, Sam thought. "I just asked if you were clear on the plan. And I need you to back me up that Zemo is dangerous, and this might go sideways."

"Yes, I've been clear on the plan since about 10 minutes ago after Sgt. Barnes so eloquently and concisely explained the plan" she said rolling her eyes. "And we all agree that Zemo is dangerous, in fact, I'm pretty sure James is very keenly and personally aware of that fact," Chanel looked at Sam with a satisfied smile, knowing he didn't have anything left to argue.

Bucky smirked and just barely chuckled.

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, wow okay, so you laugh at her jokes, but for me, you can't even crack a smile?"

Bucky shrugged, "I like her better than you."

"Wooow Buck, so it's like that huh?" Sam crossed his arms and leaned even farther away from Bucky, sticking his tongue in between his cheek as he gave a half frustrated half exasperated shake of his head, his mouth curling into a clear look of displeasure.

"Yea, it's like that." Bucky acknowledged, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. He turned to Chanel, "And by the way, if he's going to continue calling me that," he shot a glare in Sam's direction before turning his attention back to Chanel, "you certainly can call me Bucky." He gave her a shy smile.

He noticed her eyes grow slightly bigger in pleasure and his shy smile grew a little bigger knowing that he caused the reaction. He wanted to say something else but didn't know how to proceed, I haven't done this since 1943. What do I even say to a woman these days? His confidence wavered, it doesn't matter, she's not interested. Don't be stupid.

Chanel's heart fluttered in her chest. Is there a possibility Bucky isn't quite as stuffy as Sam made him out to be? He could certainly offer some great distractions from the warzone going on in my head, she thought, twisting the idea over in her mind, what would his hands feel like on my skin? One warm and one cool. Don't get ahead of yourself, Sam hasn't had any luck getting close to him. But I've only just met Bucky. Sam didn't have that luxury, seeing as their first meeting had been when the Winter Soldier had tried to kill him.

Sam was a good counselor and could normally separate his work from his experience, but this didn't seem to be one of those times.

Chanel moved from her seat to sit on the edge of the coffee table so that she was closer to the both of them, "What can I say Sam? I am prettier than you."

She smirked and shrugged her shoulders as she sat back on her hands and crossed her legs, much to Sam's chagrin, before turning and winking over at Bucky. He quickly looked down, abashed at her forward flirtation, she could tell he wasn't used to it. Ignoring Sam's groan, she watched Bucky's eyes move to her legs, as her leather skirt slid slightly higher up her thighs. She smiled to herself, again pleased with her fashion choices. Bingo! There is definitely a chance I can make this happen, Chanel thought.

After hearing all the stories, she had to admit to herself that she was also genuinely intrigued to get to know him better. That wasn't like her, but she shook the desire off. This is going to be even more fun than I had originally anticipated, she thought as her pulse slightly increased.

Sam caught the glint in her eyes and knew where Chanel's thoughts were headed. "No, nope, don't even go there," Sam said sternly. Chanel raised her eyebrows at him and feigned innocence. Before she could give a smart reply, he continued, "And you know what I'm talking about, don't forget I've known you since high school, I know all your little games." Sam remembered how much of a flirt Chanel was in high school until she had started dating Cameron. He had never seen her in love until then, or ever again after Cameron died. Since then, he knew Chanel to be promiscuous, loving the chase and heat of a new fling more than a real relationship. There is no way Bucky is ready to handle the Chanel I know.

Chanel rolled her eyes; Sam does know me too well.

Bucky's brows furrowed as he looked between them trying to guess at the meaning behind their coded exchange.

Chanel read the confusion on his face and turned to address him, "ignore him, Sam spends a lot of time talking noise about how boring you are, but he is the real spoilsport," She turned to Sam then, "and by the way Sam, Bucky is not at all how you described, he's not boring or scary."

"Hey, I told you that in confidence!" Sam playfully yelled; he didn't want Bucky to think he was actually scared of him.

Chanel noticed that Bucky's smirk had returned, and she even saw his eyes soften a little, "I knew I liked you as soon as I laid eyes on you, I'm not usually wrong about those kinds of things," he said, his confidence returning, "Comes with the years of experience I guess."

Sam rolled his eyes, stupefied at the change of attitude he witnessed. Chanel was smiling smugly from ear to ear at the compliment.

"HYDRA Training isn't experience." Sam finally managed to scoff. His irritation at the situation unfolding caused him to take a low blow he normally wouldn't have.

Bucky's jaw tightened, "I wasn't talking about HYDRA; I was talking about Brooklyn when Steve was still 5 foot nothing and would fight a phone pole if it looked at a girl wrong." Bucky deadpanned, still not taking his eyes off of Chanel looking for her reaction to Sam's words.

No reaction. Sam already told her...but if she knew why isn't she more apprehensive? "So, don't take this the wrong way, but what exactly is it that you do? Why did Sam ask you to come?" Bucky asked, leaning forward towards her, his brows furrowed in concentration again.

"Sam and I served in the Air Force together. While Sam was learning how to fly, I served in special recon. I actually outrank the both of you, so really, I should be in charge here," She glanced at Sam who rolled his eyes at the comment. "Plus, I did several extra years of training with Natasha learning all kinds of secrets and fun things that the US government doesn't teach." Her throat started to tighten as she spoke Natasha's name.

Bucky raised his eyebrows and he looked her up and down again, reappraising her, his eyes now lingering on her thighs and the subtle line along the side defining her quads and the slight v on her upper shoulders showing the deltoids underneath.

She smirked as he looked up and she caught his eyes, she smiled wider at the slight blush flickering up his neck at being caught.

Bucky nodded approvingly "You trained with Natasha?"

Chanel's smile faltered as he spoke Nat's name, the pain uncontrollable for just a moment. She tried to recover but she knew he noticed, he had concern painted all over his face.

Sam chimed in, "Yeah, I introduced her to Nat hoping to get a date out of it but instead they became best friends and Nat turned her into a mini-me Black Widow."

Chanel prickled at the comment. She had told Sam many times that she didn't want to be compared to Nat like that. She could never be Nat.

Bucky now understood the flicker of pain he saw pass across her features, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Chanel gave him a sad smile desperately trying to pull herself together, "thanks, I'm sorry too" was all she could whisper in response.

They sat in awkward silence for a moment until Bucky mercifully brought the conversation back to her military training, "and you did special recon? Impressive." He was more than a little intrigued by this mystery woman Sam had brought into their mission.

Chanel met his eyes again. So, I'm impressive in more ways than one, she thought, her lips starting to curl back into a smile. Why do I care if he notices I'm more than just a pretty face? She pondered this new feeling for just a second before shoving it out of her head.

Having successfully pushed her emotions down, Chanel flirtatiously responded to his comment, "there's a lot you have yet to learn about me, soldier." She leaned forward, invading his personal space just a bit.

Bucky stiffened for a moment, looking a little taken back at the nickname. Worried she had crossed a line, Chanel almost moved to apologize when the tension in his shoulders melted away. The surprise in his eyes was replaced by something else, if only briefly, she couldn't quite place it, had it been amusement? Excitement? Lust?

Sam noticed him tense up for just a second and jumped in again. "Chanel maybe don't call him that, it's kind of a touchy subject," he said as he placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

Without taking his eyes off of Chanel's Bucky responded, "No it's okay." He shifted his eyes to Sam "It's okay when she does it."

He turned back to Chanel and gave her a mischievous smile and she felt her pulse quicken.

Sam moved his hand off Bucky's shoulder and rolled his eyes "Of course it is" he muttered.

Sam crossed his arms and leaned farther away from them. His lips pursed together in annoyance. After all the times I've tried to get him to open up about his time as the Winter Soldier, and he acts like it's traumatizing for me to even say the name, but a pretty woman alludes to it and suddenly he's fine, he thought to himself getting more pissed off.

"Whatever, just get up, it's time to go," Sam grumbled as he grabbed his overnight bag and stood up from the couch.

Chanel shot Sam an apologetic look, she could feel him getting agitated. Bucky led the way to the front door and Chanel wrapped her arm around Sam's. She rested her head on his bicep and squeezed his arm, letting him know everything was going to be okay. He sighed and kissed the top of her head. They fought and teased each other a lot but never stayed mad at the other for more than a few minutes.

She let go of Sam's arm and fell behind the guys taking time to process everything. What just happened? Was Bucky really just flirting with me? The same Bucky that Sam said doesn't smile. I've flirted with thousands of guys, so why do I have butterflies in my stomach now?

The last question she pondered made her nervous, she was not used to feeling emotions like this. She quickly squashed the feeling and sped up to fall in line with the guys. It was time to switch into work mode, which she did happily, knowing it was the best way to keep her mind from lingering on painful memories.

When they reached the black SUV Sam took her luggage from her and loaded it into the trunk. Bucky was already in the driver's seat, leaving Sam and Chanel alone outside of the vehicle.

"Are you sure you're up for this Chanel? I know I'm asking a lot of you."

Sam crossed his arms and searched her face for any sign of hesitancy.

"Yes, I'm with you 100% Sam. I want to be here. I want to help you."

His continued staring told her he wasn't convinced. She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes before she added, "I need this Sam." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down avoiding his gaze.

Sam wrapped her in a big hug, "Okay. I'm glad you're here." he said, still hugging her tightly. "And you know you can talk to me about whatever is going on, anytime. I know you don't like to be pushed, but we're family, I'm here for you."

Chanel could hear the sincerity in his voice and his hug felt like home. Part of her wanted to tell him everything right there, but the emotions threatening to spill out were too much. She took a deep breath and switched back into work mode. "I know Sam, now let's get out of here before you and Bucky find something else to fight about." She pulled out of the hug and gave him a convincing smile.

Sam smiled back and relaxed his stance, "Fine. Fine, let's go." He closed the trunk and they climbed into the car.

"We don't have all day Wilson," Bucky muttered as soon as Sam slid into the passenger seat.

Sam ignored the statement. "What makes you think you get to drive the car?" Sam asked, crossing his arms in annoyance.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders and retorted with a snide comment.

Jesus Christ, is it going to be like this the whole time? Chanel thought to herself as she put her headphones in and tuned them out.

As they drove to the airport, she prepared for their interrogation of Zemo. Sam had managed to get some files on Zemo from a military contact, 1st Lieutenant Torres. She read through them looking for weaknesses and other information she could use to her advantage. It had been a long time since she had interviewed someone on the record, and somewhere that wasn't isolated and abandoned where no one could hear her prey scream. She had to remember her proper training, the training she got from the air force that Nat had helped her improve. Despite her effort to control it, another flashback hit her.

"You always play to your advantages. Whether you're in an interrogation or undercover. Look for weaknesses and opportunities to gain the upper hand. Men are easy, flirt, act shy, it doesn't take much work for them to underestimate you. Use that."

Chanel was listening intently as Natasha gave her pointers on how to improve her interrogation techniques. Her air force training was adequate, but from Nat, she was learning a lot more nontraditional techniques.

"Lightning round. You and your partner are interrogating a double agent. He only addresses the males in the room. What's the strategy?" Nat asks as she crosses her arms and stares at Chanel expectantly.

Chanel quickly replies, confident in her answer, "I would let my partner, usually a male, lead the interrogation at first. I would play the role of an innocent, clueless, female agent, maybe lighten the mood or flirt a little bit. When I can sense his defenses are down and he's underestimated me, that's when I pounce." She looks up at Nat, chewing on her cheek nervously awaiting Nat's response.

Nat smiles wide and uncrosses her arms, "Excellent, I've taught you well." she extends her hand for a high five which Chanel eagerly returns.

"You know Sam says I'm turning you into a mini Black Widow?" Nat asks with a smile.

"I keep telling him to stop saying that. I could never be you." Chanel sighs and rolls her eyes.

"He's not wrong. You're well on your way babe." Nat says as she smiles at her and rubs her shoulder endearingly.

Chanel couldn't stop the few tears that fell from her eyes in response to the memory. Unconsciously she had balled herself up in the back seat and wrapped her arms tightly around her shins.

Deep breaths Chanel, deep breaths. You can't do this right now.

As she began to calm down, she noticed Bucky looking at her in the rearview mirror. The look of concern in his eyes made her stomach twist from embarrassment. She quickly looked out the window and wiped the tears away.

Bucky didn't say anything, but his gaze lingered on her for a few seconds longer, wonder what that is about...does Sam know?

His eyes shifted to Sam who was still yammering about why Bucky should start watching football.

He doesn't seem to notice, is he really that unaware? No, he has to know, so maybe it's nothing, he thought as he looked back at the rearview mirror and saw that Chanel was once again engrossed in Zemo's files. He bit his bottom lip, shit, now I feel bad she's not going to get to interrogate him.

He had other plans up his sleeve.

To be continued...