"In your crowd, a polite 'no' is not enough. In mind, it isn't. The only kind of a 'no' they understand is from the end of a gun."

Raymond Burr (His kind of Woman, 1951)

Easy.

It had been too easy.

The mistake, he reflects, was in the comfort they took in the completion of the mission. There had been a few high risk moments, with Bruce's threat to rampage into the neighboring town a worry pressing down on everyone (maybe not Thor, but Thor was unphased by many things), but Natasha had staunched the anger before it could become uncontrollable, and they had the scepter to show at the end of their toils. Steve couldn't blame everyone's quick predisposition to celebrate - they had won, and they were reunited. Barton was nursing nothing but a ghost ache and Thor had managed to only give Stark a few moments' time with the scepter. The danger and temptation it would draw would be gone from Earth by tomorrow - what would there be to worry about?

Mistake.

Hydra is still running amok, Bucky an unaccounted variable moving through the shadows of the world, and the numbers of suspected enhanced individuals is rising. Steve could add more concerns to the list, but not one stood a priority over the others.

"Did I miss the party?" Steve jumps from his seat, nothing but surprise and shock fueling his tired body as he watches Diana step through the rubble. Despite her words, she isn't dressed to attend Stark's impromptu celebration; dark jumpsuit and red leather, her hair sits perfectly and tightly coiffed on the top of her head. He hasn't seen her in at least two years, but in this moment, he feels just the same as when he first saw her.

"Kind of, just a little bit," he hears Tony rebuff. He also feels Tony's eyes on him, knows he has let himself stay silent for too long, has kept his gaze on the woman for too long, but he can't tear his eyes off Diana like she can - to look at something, someone else other than him. He senses Natasha step towards his side and figures he deserves the elbow in his still-sore ribs.

"Who are you?" Clint echoes from his perch on the desiccated bar.

"Yes, good question that too: who are you and how did you even get in here?" Tony adds. Since New York, the man had added a plethora of security around his buildings. He had quite a few installed before, but now – Steve can still recall the sting of electricity as he absentmindedly tried to enter the garage without swiping his card or scanning his eye/thumbprint first. His thumb caresses the stung spot as he continues to observe his old…friend? Colleague?

From the beginning, Steve has always known that Diana had a special way of smiling. When Diana smiles, he notices there is enough restraint and blitheness in the way she lets her lips spread across her face in a not-quite-so-forthright way. And in a room of veterans, it would not win her anyone's favor.

He watches as she gestures at the entrance's crumbling awning and at the wasted living space. "Doors were open," he hears her reason.

Suspecting that no one is quite too satisfied by her succinct answer, Bruce steps up to chase after the remaining question. "And your name?"

"Diana." Steve says her name at last, as if to confirm her presence in the room; as if he could not believe that she is standing there and that saying her name aloud would make her disappear. She is not an apparition, he can still remember their encounters, their time spent in each other's company - but her departure; the body, Natasha's stifled anger inter-woven with confusion and blood-stained forehead. Steve sometimes thought she had been more of a wraith, wreaking havoc and leaving nothing but a trace of broken glass, a stupefied comrade, and an unexplained death behind.

"I invited her," he hears the assassin add. He watches her brush off a sprinkle of glass off her shoulder as she steps towards Diana. From his vantage, he can see the two women exchange terse words before the redhead turns to face the rest of them. "We'll be right back," is her clipped reply before she whisks the mysterious woman away with her.

Steve only has a second to react. Sensing that the others in the room are all for wanting more information, Steve suddenly starts and quickly moves to follow after the two women. "Steve!" He hears his buddy, Sam, shout. He abashedly shouts back a poor excuse and clambers into the hallway just as the other two women disappear behind the elevator's silver doors. Watching the numbers flash through the screen, he only has time to spot the halting number before Sam joins him.

"Steve, what the hell is going on, man?" his friend questions. But Steve has a ghost to catch and he shakes his head.

"Later, Sam, I'll explain it all later," he decides he has no time to wait for the elevator to ascend and glances around for a nearby staircase.

"Do you know her?" he hears Sam ask, crossing his arms. "No, you do know her." He corrects himself.

Steve nods as he spots the stairwell behind Sam. Walking towards the man, he places one heavy hand on his shoulder. "I do," he confirms. "I'll tell you everything but -"

"Later," Sam nods, just as grin breaks out on his tense visage. "Well Steve, I'll be waiting on that," he laughs. "Imagine that, Captain America has a girlfriend."

Steve thanks the stars that he is well-past Sam and half-way into the stairwell when the man says this. Only a stutter in his step reveals his disinclination to the label as he thunders down the levels of Stark's tower.

When he breaks out to the ground level, Steve assumes that the two women have carried their conversation outside of the building, Natasha most likely privy to the various spyware Stark has littered throughout the building since New York. And he is correct in his assumption. Emerging from the building, he easily finds the two women standing apart from each other on the sidewalk. Untouched by New York's frigid nights, Natasha spares him a precursory glance as she resumes her conversation with the other woman.

"So, let me get this straight," he hears Natasha say as he comes closer to them. He stands by the redhead's side, mindful to keep his distance and attention on the other woman. Diana has eluded them more than once - he would not let her go so easily now.

Diana's eyes catch his for a brief second before she nods in confirmation. Crossing her arms, she says, "I am a demi-goddess created by Hippolyta and brought to life by Zeus."

Steve falters as Natasha monotonously repeats: "Hippolyta and Zeus. The King of the Greek pantheon and…?"

"The Queen of Amazonians." Diana patiently explains.

"Which is not the Amazon rainforest?" Steve tries to connect the location with her words and wonders how a civilization like the one Diana hails from has remained undetected by both SHIELD and Stark.

Diana smiles. "No, not that Amazon, Steve -" "And not the online warehouse either, id -" Diana politely ignores Natasha's caustic rebut and continues. "Amazonians is what we call ourselves. I hail from Themyscira. An isolated island located somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea."

"Somewhere?" Natasha catches on.

"Somewhere," a hardness enters Diana's obsidian eyes. "I remember not where it is nor would be truly inclined to tell you of its location, Natasha. Please do not push me - even if you may mean well, I am no longer allowed to return there. That is the price I had to pay for leaving the island."

Steve shifts his weight onto his other foot as he weighs the snippet of Diana's history. While the spy beside him knows more, he is satisfied with what Diana has said thus far. The fog surrounding her has dissipated just a little bit. Not much, but he can see her in a clearer light. The lines are still blurred, he predicts he will still hesitate to touch pencil to paper if the intent is to draw her likeness, but he thinks he can simulate partial aspects of her; the sleek lines of her hairthe curve of her lips.

"How long have you been unable to go back home, Diana?" Steve finds himself asking.

"1944."

World War II.

Steve immediately shuts down the noise of gunfire, throttling plane engines, Peggy's voice, breaking ice - and cold, coldcoldcold, it was so cold - he sputters on the year. World War II. He physically forces his eyes shut to ward off the chill on his body.

"You got a fountain of youth hidden somewhere?" Natasha comments. She pats him on the back, as if aware of the ice trying to reclaim him. "Looks like we've got more than one dinosaur on the team, Captain."

"Team?" both he and Diana repeat. Focus. He chants the word like a mantra in his head as he narrows his attention to this moment, the present.

"Yes, team. Listen, you and I know both Stark and eventually and especially Fury will not let this go. Not again at least. I've already dismantled the camera for this side of the building, and god...or gods," Diana half-heartedly returns the smile at the other woman's quip, "Know Stark will already be throwing a tantrum about that, but I only did that to get Diana to talk. And now she's talked. So, follow my lead and maybe, maybe we can work things out after all this is over. Especially in a way that doesn't involve me nursing a headache for a whole week."

"I'm sorry about that, by the way," Diana apologizes.

Natasha waves off the admission. "I deserved it. Taught me better to let me guard down. I think you're one of the good guys, Diana, and we could use all the help we can right now."

"You think they would be so accepting?" she asks.

"Did you do anything wrong? Try to take control of the world recently?" Natasha turns on her heel and starts to herd them back into the building.

"No but -"

"Then you've got nothing to worry about." The assassin easily swipes them back into Stark's heavily guarded tower. Unlike Steve, they take the elevator and wait for him to join them before they choose the level to re-ascend to.

"I've got secrets, Natasha. And I'm not ready to share them yet." Steve can commiserate with Diana to an extent. While his life had always been a story in the history books and museums, he still had the quiet moments detailed in his mind; they could elaborate on his personal history as much as they desired to, but the experiences? No history book would be able to capture those moments he had been through.

"Honey - in this team, who doesn't have any secrets they're not willing to share?" Natasha isn't picking anyone out necessarily, but Steve knows that all the woman had to do is look in the mirror to see a world of deceit and secrecy.

"Thor?" Steve supplies, finally adding to the conversation.

"Well, besides him - and isn't he a Norse god? Oh, you two will get on great." However, before Diana can attach a comment, the silver doors slide open again and welcome them to a mismatched group of fighters salvaging the remainder of the night.

"We have some things to talk about," all three of them hear as Clint eyes them from the entrance. Steve nods at his other friends, Sam and Tony's pal, Rhodes, who both support a shaken Dr. Helen Cho. The Doctor isn't sporting any bruises, but the tremble in her previously sure movements easily let Steve part to the side to allow her easy access to the elevator. He bids the other two men a farewell as he turns to face the remainder of the team.

"Where's everyone?" Natasha asks first. She steps past Clint and throws a precursory look around the room. Without the shadow of To - Ultron's robots to mask his sight, he is thankful to find that most of the area is indeed intact with only broken furniture and scattered glass to show proof of Ultron's attack.

"In the lab," Steve shoots a glance at Barton as an unveiled bitterness seeps into his tone. "At least Tony and Bruce are. The others are cleaning up and Thor is trying to chase the robot that took the scepter."

The scepter...Steve groans and presses a hand to his temple. They had only recently obtained the foreign weapon again. For Thor to now be giving chase to it? He suspects that they would have more than Ultron to deal with upon the god's return.

"Let's go," Natasha sighs, casually swiping a tablet from one of Stark's hidden compartments. It takes Steve only one look at the screen to ward himself away from its contents. While he has infinitely improved upon his technological skills, there is still a gap between him and the others that he had no desire to address - especially when it came to Stark's and SHIELD's technology.

The redhead by them sighs again as they enter the lab; Clint makes himself sparse at a stolen corner while Natasha takes post by one of the main computers. Steve ignores Stark's and Bruce's inquisitorial gaze at the other female companion by his side, but he knows that her presence too, would be addressed in the oncoming discussion. At the moment, he is only grateful that Diana has kept quiet. For now, he thought it better not to prod sleeping egotistical scientists - frazzled as they are now.

"All our work is gone," Bruce finally cuts the silence. "Ultron cleared out, used the internet as an escape route."

Steve's lips press together as Natasha supports Bruce's claim. "He's been in everything," she adds exasperatedly, setting the tablet down. "Files, surveillance - probably knows more about us than we know about each other."

"And what if he decides to access something else? Say…" Diana pips up from beside him. She exchanges a quick glance with him, and from that look, Steve saw more than he wanted.

World War II….he rolls his head to the side to stop his train of thoughts.

"Nuclear codes." Maria Hill says for everyone. Lines form on the agent's forehead. "We need to make calls, assuming we can make calls."

"Nukes?" Natasha frowns. She watches Maria dart for one of the sparse landlines and dial a number. "Well he did say he wanted us dead."

"Not dead," Steve cuts in quickly. "He said extinct."

"He also said he killed somebody." Clint points out.

"But there wasn't anyone else in the building? Or -" the agent pauses from her phone call as she throws a cautionary glance at Diana. The woman doesn't rise to the call, nor does she make any attempt to alleviate their concerns.

"No," Tony finally speaks up. "It was just her, and, well there was also -," with a roll of his shoulders, he brings up a destroyed image of orange pixels. Vaguely, Steve realizes that the dissembled 3D image is JARVIS and crosses his arms.

"JARVIS was the first line of defense." Steve is only good at fighting an enemy he can see, but JARVIS largely shouldered the burden of guarding their digital domain. "He would've shut Ultron down -" but he didn't – couldn't. Ultron had attacked him, and then them. "It makes sense."

Bruce shakes his head. "No, no Ulton could've assimilated JARVIS," he walks around the corpse. "This isn't strategy, this is...rage."

However, before Steve or anyone can address the levity of his words, an altercation on his left grabs everyone's attention. Diana, a fist tightly encapsulating a portion of Thor's cape, prevents the said god from charging at Tony. Steve feels himself react to the retaliating fist of the blond god, but Diana is faster and has locked him into a stalemate. "Stand down," she says.

"And who do you think you are?!" Thor roars in her face. But Diana is a picture of calm and Steve quickly inserts himself between the two, keeping one hand on the man's bicep as he pushes them apart.

"Thor," he begins. "The legionnaire?" Focus, he tells with his eyes. This is not the time to cause a fight between the team.

"Yeah buddy, words - use your words," Tony calls out ahead of them. Yet, as both he and the god turn around to face the scientist, they find him smartly farther than before.

"I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark," the god spits. Then suddenly, he throws his hammer at one of the benches. It makes a dent, is snuggly nestled between sparking wires and metal, but does not go further than it could have; controlled. Thor is in control now, but Steve knows his anger is simmering closer to the top than the bottom.

"Trail went cold about a hundred miles out but it's headed north, and it has the scepter. Now," he caustically snips. "We have to retrieve it, again."

"From Ultron." Natasha surmises.

"And who is Ultron exactly?" Diana asks. Although, just as the attention begins to shift towards her, Natasha steps in again.

"A homicidal robot? Anyway, guys, this is Diana. A colleague of mine. She was under SHIELD's and was deemed safe. You can trust her."

"Trust?" Tony laughs.

Steve ignores him and pays closer attention to Maria. Maria Hill is - was Fury's secondhand. Any information Natasha had, could only be rebuked by her. But the agent only nods to show her support.

"Was she supposed to be, y'know." Clint leans against a console and gestures at their ragtag team.

"No, not really. Just someone to have on hand," Natasha answers. "She's -"

"Here," Diana cuts off and smiles apologetically at the redhead. She steps forward, returning to both his and Thor's side as she continues, "As Natasha kindly introduced and Steve earlier, my name is Diana."

"No last name?" Clint interrogates.

"Of Themyscira, daughter of Zeus and Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons," she easily answers.

Steve notices a few twitches and tense shoulders at her returning words. Her title is recognized by many. "Is she what…a Greek god too?" Bruce questions.

"No, my mother is not a god only immortal." Diana elaborates.

"Great." Both he and Diana ignore Tony's remark as Thor turns to her.

"And you fair maiden?" he asks, much to everyone's chagrin. While Thor has greatly improved on his modern English, or Earth English – he still had a bit of ways to go with avoiding archaic endearments. Not that Steve could blame the god, he too, still erred on the old-fashioned side of speaking. Although in his case, his English is only a few decades old. If Tony's Shakespearean reenactments were anything to go by, Thor's diction could be traced back to centuries of old English.

Fortunately, Diana is patient, ignores the title, and nods. "A demi-god. I am a daughter of Zeus after all."

"Thor Odinson," Thor returns as he rallies back to Tony, as if his last name would suffice. And it probably did. Steve isn't much for mythology – or…other theology, but with Diana's background, she has more than likely linked him to a different pantheon. "Stark." The god repeats.

"What?" the scientist refutes. "What? Is this current situation terrible? Is it terrible? Is it so...is it - It's so terrible?" he repeats. Rewinding, Tony is rewinding and Steve did not like it. The man, he observes, is not privy to the errors of his doing.

Thor follows his thinking as he continues to seethe. "This could have been avoided if you had not played with something you did not understand," he says.

A passing moment of silence pervades them, and in that moment, Tony's shoulders begin to shake. Steve frowns, knowing the difference between the quivering lines of despair and sardonic mirth. He sees Bruce shake his head at Tony, cautioning him to stop, but the wealthy man is impervious to his colleague's words. He steps away from, from JARVIS' corpse and regards everyone.

"Really? Really?!" He shouts at his friend. "That's it? You just roll over, show your belly, every time somebody snarls."

"Only when I've created a murder bot," the other scientist shoots back.

"We didn't," Tony argues. "We weren't even close. Were we close to an interface?"

"Well you did something right," Steve feels the weight of an invisible clock begin to hunker down on him. They are wasting time. "And you did it right here. The Avengers were supposed to be different than SHIELD." They were not supposed to create some steel war machine prone to vulnerabilities that would cause more harm than good.

Tony glares at him. At all of them. "Anyone remember when I carried a nuke through a wormhole? Recall that? A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space and we're standing three hundred feet below it. Yes, we are the Avengers. We bust arm dealers all the live long day but that up there? That, them -" he looks at Thor, and in a hesitating moment, also at Diana. "That's, they are the end game. How do you guys plan on beating that?"

No one rises to his question, but Steve finally sees Tony a little bit better. He knows the man's intentions come from a good place, no matter how poorly executed they can be - Tony wants what everyone wants: peace. Safety. But he has seen enough to know that machines and new technology will never be the answer. Not if they are created to protect them. Cold metal is what it is; unliving and conquerable. They are only as useful and good as the man who creates them. And from what Steve has seen, man loved to create. Create and control and become better than the other. But humankind is redeemable – most, like his circle of friends, fight and exist for the good. To safeguard those with dreams of peace and tranquility.

"Together," he finally speaks up. "We'll do it together." He catches Tony's eye, catches the man's desperation and white flag and throws both aside.

"We'll lose." Tony says quietly, in reply – and suddenly, Tony is not the giant corporate scientist with money pouring out of his pockets. He is someone else, someone smaller, someone scared and afraid and – someone who has seen the end. Steve grimaces, knowing he could never help his friend chase away death's demons. He still had them crowding at his door, but he would help Tony face them. Eventually. Together.

Steve sighs and looks at the woman at his side, notes how both his flanks are covered by a god and demi-god,and shakes Tony's doubt off. "Then we'll do that together too," he lets the sentiment sit in Tony for a while before he addresses the team. "Thor's right." he calls everyone's attention back to him, temporarily forcing them to cast aside their own what-if's and shadows. "Ultron is calling us out and I'd like to find him before he's ready for us. The world's a big place."

"Let's start making it smaller."

Looking at everyone both slowly but quickly regain control of their thoughts, Steve feels a swell in his chest grow large as everyone begins to separate to do their individual parts. He supposes, in some way he had Dr. Erskine to thank for everything. While friends were hard to come by pre-procedure, now he had had the blessing to have more than a handful. Where he used to be alone and want of experience really only came from the perusal through movies and Bucky's cajoling, he now had experienced both love, loss, rage, and happiness. He has his friends and a new life - he has camaraderie. And it made everything so, so, so much easier.

He turns to Diana. "And you and I…"

"Need to talk," the Amazonian confirms.