I really appreciate the support and I am taken away by how many are enjoying the story so far and I can only apologise for the delay in uploading.

While I had a lovely holiday, upon returning to work I found out the news that funding is ending earlier than it should. It has resulted and will continue to for the next few months mean work will be manic in trying to bring the project to an end, on top of needing to find a new job. So time for writing may be put on the back burner for a little while, though I still hope to upload when I can.

I hope you all enjoy the next chapter, as much as I have enjoyed writing it.


Notes about this upcoming chapter and future chapters:

Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended to be offensive in anyway.

I know absolutely nothing about guns, weapons in general, and my knowledge is purely from the internet, and TV shows and books I may read. I apologise if any of the information that is used is wrong.

Any opinions that may come across in the chapters are not my own either.

Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.


XXX


Chapter 7:-

"You're thinking too hard."

Natasha barely glanced up from her Pad towards the door where Clint was casually leaning against the doorframe, arms folded against his chest as he watched her.

"I'm planning," she answered as she scrolled upwards on the page.

He held up his palms in surrender, "Don't come crying to me when you get wrinkles."

Natasha threw her pen at him, which he easily dodged as he stepped further into the room.

"You're hilarious," she said dryly with a roll of her eyes.

"What's the problem?" Clint asked as he took the seat next to her.

"Not a problem, an unexpected detail," she replied as she turned her head slightly towards her oldest friend.

He had grown still as he looked at her; his eyes narrowed with piqued interest as he surveyed her, a barely-there frown crossing his face. She could see the tic though in his jaw on the left side that only ever appeared when worry gnawed at him.

She could read him as easily as he could read her, and they had both learnt long ago it was useless attempting to hide things from the other. Though Natasha would say she was still better at it than him. There was always a part she kept to herself, buried deep and secure and safe.

"A detail that could cause a problem?"

"Potentially. At site one; an office is rented out to a unit from the Intelligence Division."

"New York Police Department?" Clint asked, his frown deepening ever so slightly.

"I wouldn't be concerned if it was something else. It would just be a matter of outmanoeuvring them. But we need the city on our side, and having a mission in their backyard, could potentially blow up in our faces."

Natasha paused before continuing.

"The Intelligence Division, by all accounts works in secrecy without the city council being informed of operations. If we make contact with the particular unit based there and bring them in on intelligence only side of things, then we don't ruffle feathers, we are seen to be playing ball, and we still take all the risks."

"Recon?" Clint stated.

Natasha offered him a small smirk, "That is what I am planning. And it will have to be today, before we start with our recon tonight of the site."

"When do we leave?"

"Not you."

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise.

"Potter," Natasha continued, not leaving room for argument.

Understanding flashed through his eyes almost instantly.

"It's a good as place as any. Does the Cap know?"

"Not yet," Natasha replied, with a shake of her head. "What do you make of her?"

Clint gave her a slight frown, and she knew the reason why. She had always prided herself on being able to read people, and had never let others opinions cloud her judgement. Now was no different, she did want to get a read on the woman, but she also wanted to see what Clint thought.

Clint who read people in a different way than she did, who had his own unique history to fall back on to see things in a different light, just as she had her own.

"She's like you."

Natasha snapped her gaze to Clint, her eyes narrowing like daggers. She hadn't expected that comment.

Clint stood a little straighter under her stare, lesser men had cowered under it, but Clint had always remained firm and steadfast. "The first time I saw you, green eyes that should be full of light, but are actually full of darkness. She hides it better, but it's there."

She cocked an eyebrow, a silent prompt for him to continue.

Clint sighed, "Besides training, you have had the exact same interactions I have with her, Nat, I know you see it too. Hell I'm pretty sure Barnes sees it as well, probably better than us."

He ran a hand through his hair, "She's trained. She hides that fact, which means she is good. Really good, it takes a lot of control and ability to appear less than you actually are. She could have taken Williams down in seconds, I saw it, watched her assess him, and she still held back. It was only when he pushed too far she bared her teeth and took him out."

Something she regularly did. Appearing less than she was, less of a danger, less of a threat. It was something the Red Room had taught her, how to hide the predator inside and appear delicate and unthreatening.

Natasha didn't think Potter had had the same kind of training she had, but if she knew how to hide in plain sight, then it raised more questions. Was it deliberate? Was she deliberately trying to hide from them?

Her instincts put Potter into the dangerous category, but it didn't quite put her in the threat to them.

To her team.

"She's been hurt Nat, and badly. She's hiding from something, and I think maybe her coming to work here is a cry for help. Even if she doesn't realise it."

Natasha could admit she had thought that possible reasoning, she had come to the conclusion Potter was hiding, and she was determined to discover that particular danger before it bit them all in the ass.

She reached out a hand towards Clint and smiled softly, a smile she reserved for a few people.

"So we help her then."


XXX


Holly scanned the War room over the rim of her cup as she took a sip of her tea.

She schooled her features to give nothing away and allowed her shoulders to relax despite the weighted scrutiny of the others in the room, pressing along her skin.

Holly would be lying if she said it didn't set her teeth on edge.

That it didn't have her instincts squirming beneath her skin and the itching urge to reach for her wand, to have her magic crackling at her fingertips.

The darkness purred in her mind as it watched with too-large eyes, its claws kneading her mind in warning to be on guard.

As if she needed the reminder.

Holly didn't.

She was sitting in a room full of people that had formerly worked for SHIELD, a mixed batch of former agents that ranged from engineers to former Strike Members.

She recognised the new recruits, others were just faces she had seen on the main floor, but she had yet to learn their names.

The last couple of days had made her forget it wasn't just the Avengers she was working with.

But being in a room full of people that Hill had personally hired was the wakeup call she needed.

Holly took another sip of her drink, mentally cataloguing those around her without making it visible that was what she was doing.

It wasn't personal.

She knew that they eyed each other up with equal amount of suspicion, the same amount of wariness.

Except for the Tank and Jax, Holly noted they at least presented a united front with each other against the rest of the room.

But then they had both been former members of the Strike Team and some of the few that hadn't been neck deep with Hydra.

The fact they survived against their fellow teammates and brothers in arms turning on them said a lot about them.

She took another sip of her drink, well aware of eyes pinned to her every move.

Holly turned her head ever so slightly; dark brown eyes with a dash of molten ore flecking them caught her gaze and locked.

Tank dark-haired and dark-skinned. His physical build matched what one expected from his former career, yet despite the bulging muscles and the name, there appeared to be an air of soothing calmness around the man.

Holly couldn't say why exactly she got that impression, as she had no doubt he could turn lethal the moment he needed to, but the way he was sitting in the chair, calm and still as if he would listen to all your problems if you let him.

"Can hardly see any bruising," he noted.

Holly was aware the others were listening, even if they were trying to give the impression they weren't. Except for Jax, he was definitely paying attention; his blue eyes glistened with amusement.

"I don't bruise easily." Holly shrugged; and she didn't, not now anyway, but she may have also used a small amount of the Weasley Bruise removal paste to ease what had started to show, leaving a barely-there shadow of a bruise.

Cheating? Perhaps, but Holly needed to be on top of her A-game.

"Aren't you the lucky one," Sawyer muttered, "My bruises have bruises."

Holly raised an eyebrow as she took another sip of her drink.

"Sawyer is more lover than a fighter."

"Nothing wrong with that," Holly muttered.

"Barton paired Williams up with me after you were taken to medical, not that the guy could do much. You got him good and proper," Jax smirked.

"Not the first time I've had to fight," Holly answered.

Tank looked at her, his head tilted to the side slightly. "I could see that. Granted I thought Barnes was going to kill him, I'm pretty sure Barton thought that to," Tank noted.

Holly raised an eyebrow at them but stayed silent. They were fishing for information, though she wasn't entirely sure why but from the all too silent room, Holly could tell that everyone was waiting in anticipation for her to say something.

Holly was no stranger to people picking for information, and to those that readily shared it. Aurors could be the biggest gossips when they wanted to be. Maybe it was something about the particular area of work. Everybody wanted to know everyone else's business.

"Was it like this back in SHIELD?" she asked, "All whispers and rumours."

"We had weekly wagers. It kept us entertained," Jax teased.

Holly snorted, yeah sounded like the Aurors office.

Before Holly could even think about responding the door opened, and Steve, Hill and Romanoff walked in.

Holly strengthened her shields the moment she laid eyes on Steve, already an angry prickly heat pressed along the bond and her shields.

She was going to hazard a guess that Steve Rogers was irritated about something, and she didn't get the impression it was her.

His eyes met hers briefly, an acknowledgement, a subtle one, but still there and the prickly feeling eased.

"Good you are all here, we can get started," Hill said. She pulled a chair out and sat down before continuing.

"We have received Intel that a shipment of Chitauri weapons is due to arrive a week Friday. The next coming days we and in turn you are solely focused on gathering as much information as we can about the locations, potential buyers and any further information that will be vital to the mission."

Well fuck!

"How many weapons are we expecting? Tank asked, a concerned look crossing his face.

"Unknown at this time, but enough to cause serious damage to the city if they hit the streets," Romanoff answered.

Holly's mind raced.

She hadn't been able to help New York when the invasion happened, but she had seen the footage when she had finally broken free from Hydra, had seen the aftermath. Even now a few years later, the City still carried some of the scars.

Both in the muggle world and the magical one.

The body count of lives lost doubled when you included Witches and Wizards, and tripled when you added the magical creatures that called New York their home.

In the years she had spent travelling, in moving throughout the dark belly of the underworld in both worlds she had seen firsthand some of the damage those weapons could do in the wrong hands.

But that had still been the odd one or two, not an entire shipment.

"How are the weapons even workable, I was under the impression they all shut down once the portal was closed?" she asked, because even if she knew otherwise that little bit of information had always evaded her.

How those she had seen still operated.

Steve, Hill and Romanoff shared a look between them before turning their attention back to the room.

"A way to reverse-engineer them was found and duplicated," Romanoff answered.

"Shield wasn't that close to reverse-engineering them, the closest I remember anyone getting was that duo that started robbing banks," Philips pointed out.

"Sitwell was sent apprehend them if I remember correctly, oh, well I guess that makes sense," Sawyer added.

"You got to be fucking kidding me!" Jax hissed through clenched teeth, "Hydra."

Hydra.

Hydra.

The word roared through Holly's mind. Hydra, day four, and already there was another mention of Hydra.

"There are active Hydra cells in New York City," Steve said tightly. His muscles were rigid from the way he was holding himself with coiled pent up frustration and a dash of uncontrollable rage that was threatening to break free.

His eyes had hardened and narrowed, and Holly could see the bubbling anger.

Son of a bitch!

Holly had not expected that, had really not expected that. Her mind whirled, and her pulse raced, she was in the same city as them. She just needed to locate them, she just needed - patience.

She needed to be patient; she couldn't afford to run in without a plan, without all the knowledge.

"They the sellers or the buyers?" Tank asked.

"Sellers, though we believe they won't be selling them all," Steve replied.

"Of course they won't," Tank agreed, "Just enough to cause some damage that will keep everyone's attention fixed on anyone but them."

Holly could feel the tension in the room. Each of them had lost a lot to Hydra, friends, brothers-in-arms, work colleagues. People they knew had turned on them with weapons and done so without hesitation, and those that dared to fight back lost their lives.

They had lost a lot.

This was personal for them.

And as far as they knew she didn't have a connection to Hydra, she was the outsider.

Yet it was.

Personal for her, and not just for the missing children, or her entire team being killed...her pulse jumped, as memories stirred.

Don't think about it.

Holly pushed the memories down, well aware that Steve was looking at her. His eyes narrowed and brow creased with puzzlement.

Damn it, despite shielding she may have projected that particular thought a little too forcefully.

She needed to get to grips of what these bonds were exactly capable of, to avoid doing something that would leave her open, or hinder them.

She took another sip of her drink, grimacing at the now lukewarm tea, but grateful for giving her hands something to occupy with. Holly was more than used to the weight of people's gazes on her, and while she still didn't like it, she had come to accept it and not flinch from it. But there was something about the way Steve was looking at her, that made her want to shift in her seat.

"That is our conclusion as well," Steve replied grimly, "They will have an endgame in mind. We need to find out what that endgame is. But our first priority is keeping those weapons off the streets."

"So what's the plan, Captain?" Tank asked.

Holly looked between the Tank and Jax, each of them looking determined and calculating.

They were awaiting their orders.

Looking around at the rest of the table, showed Philips and Sawyer were also equally awaiting their orders. SHIELD may have fallen, they may distrust each other, but when it came down to it, they were agents, and that meant something to them.

Holly could understand that, respect it.

Holly expected Hill to take over, relay their jobs, their tasks in preparing for this shipment.

Instead, it was Steve that took point. Steve that laid out the plan directed them to each of their roles.

Philips was going to be putting her skills to the test and working alongside Stark and Bruce in trying to find a counter to the weapons. Something that would shut them down, block their energy or something along those lines. Philips seemed to understand enough to nod and Holly was pretty sure that was the main thing.

Sawyer was going to be working with Hill and Jarvis searching through every scrap of information they could find through the data they had on Hydra, on the web on any database they could get a hold of. Holly was pretty sure Jarvis would be doing most of the heavy lifting, being able to search through multiple things at once far faster than a human mind could, while Hill and Sawyer tried to find a pattern or trail they could follow.

The rest of them were going to be the feet on the ground. The foot soldiers, offering support with chasing up leads, stake-outs and when it came to it, helping on the night.

Holly had no doubt the Avengers would be able to handle the situation on the night, but as Steve revealed they had two possible shipment locations.

They needed as many hands on deck as they could to cover both locations.

Holly gripped her mug tighter, her knuckles turning white before she forced her hands to loosen slightly.

She bit at the inside of her lip, ensuring her face was schooled to give nothing away, all the while she could feel her knees bouncing under the table and an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach growing.

Holly had prepared for the possibility that she would end up working out in the field with the Avengers at some point, but in a more simplistic role as a driver, or smoothing ruffled feathers of any law enforcement, they may end up crossing paths with.

Stakeouts - no problem, she could handle that.

Actually being on a mission with them that involved conflict with enemy forces - Holly wasn't sure she could handle that without giving away her magic.

The idea of not using everything she had when she would be fighting for her life, that didn't sit well with her at all.

Holding back during training, letting people underestimate her was one thing but to deliberately weaken herself in such a way, Holly wasn't sure she would be able to do that.

No, she knew she couldn't do that.

Not with Hydra as the enemy, yet she didn't know enough about why they were in the city, something Holly couldn't help but notice for Steve, Hill and Romanoff wasn't that much of a surprise.

They knew.

They knew before this Intel that Hydra was in the city.

Holly's mind whirled as she listened to the layout of the plan for the next week or so.

Training.

Groundwork.

Stake-outs.

They would practically be living at the Tower for the next week. Those who were involved with the Stake Outs would be working in shifts, with the Avengers.

"Each of you will have time to go home and grab what you need at some point today for the next week. You are basically living here and on-call twenty-four-seven," Hill added.

"Potter you are with me for the first shift. Tank you will be with Natasha and Jax with Clint. But first the three of you will be spending the morning training with Bucky and Clint," Steve continued.

Holly blinked in surprise, she hadn't been expecting that.

"When is the first shift?" Holly asked.

"Won't be until fifteen hundred hours."

Fifteen hundred hours, military-speak for three o'clock. Doable.

"We won't be getting off until midnight," he continued.

Nine hours.

Nine hours in the car alone with Steve.

Holly managed to keep her features schooled, giving no outward sign that her insides were knotting tightly, or at least she hoped she was.

Nine hours.

It wouldn't be that bad.

Would it?

Steve, who up until yesterday had barely said anything to her.

Right, yeah who was she kidding it was going to be a challenge.

A big fucking challenge.

Holly rose when the others did and made to follow Tank and Jax.

"Potter."

Holly turned in surprise at the sound of Romanoff calling her.

"You are with me this morning; you will be back in time to join Tank and Jax for training."

"Where are we going?" Holly asked, casting a glance towards Steve who had snapped his attention to them the moment Romanoff had uttered the words.

Something he hadn't been aware of then.

She looked back at Romanoff, who was watching her closely.

"Field trip, we won't be long."

Holly nodded once, as she followed behind the woman. Holly noted the other woman's appearance. Dark skinny jeans that looked painted on. Black long sleeve shirt, under a red leather jacket that she was slowly putting on as she walked. Adding the final touch with a black woollen hat that covered most of her red hair.

Street clothes.

Romanoff even softened her stride into one of casual walking, curbing the dangerous wildcat edge the woman had so far emanated whenever Holly had seen her.

In a blink of an eye, Romanoff had slid into another skin with practised ease. Holly knew the woman's reputation, she knew just how dangerous she was and had no doubt she was armed.

They stopped long enough to allow Holly to grab her own coat, before making their way down to the underground parking lot where Romanoff led her to a black SUV.

Holly curbed her questions, even though her curiosity prowled along the edges of her subconscious. If she was entering the field with Romanoff, then she had to be on guard, had to be prepared for anything.

Not that the woman had given her much time to prepare. But thinking on her feet was something she was good at. Not to mention she was armed, her wand hidden in her holster, she wasn't wholly underprepared.

Romanoff turned to glance at her as she slipped into the passenger side next to her, a delicate brow arching and Holly felt as though her layers were being peeled back and her insides her being picked apart.

She was never one to back down from a challenge, never one to back off in the face of danger.

Holly met Romanoff's gaze with her own and really looked. Romanoff was dangerous, Holly could see that in every move she made, but she wasn't the only one.

Amusement flickered briefly in the woman's eyes, and a small smile crossed Romanoff's lips before she turned the key in the ignition.

As if she was satisfied with whatever Holly had let slip.

She was getting the impression that the other woman was testing her.

Holly turned her focus to looking out of the window.

Romanoff wasn't the only one that could play that game.


XXX


Natasha surveyed her surroundings as she slipped out of the car, carefully taking note of the buildings around her, of the people, of anything that could potentially be hiding a threat.

She clocked the few security cameras that a few businesses had opted to have, though she couldn't help but wonder how many worked and how many were there just for show.

She glanced out the corner of her eye as the passenger door shut softly. Potter glanced around with the same level of scrutiny that she used, and Natasha couldn't help but notice the alertness in the other woman's body as she moved.

"Okay, I give up, what exactly are we doing?"

An eyebrow rose, and Natasha found her lips twitching into the barest of smirks.

Potter had remained silent in the hour it had taken them to arrive at their destination, the traffic firmly against them. Natasha could say she was impressed; most people weren't comfortable with long silences.

"Recon."

Potter tilted her head, her lips twitching into a slight smile.

"At Dunkin' Donuts?"

Natasha could hear the amusement in her tone.

"The possibilities are endless," Natasha said.

"Uh-huh," Potter murmured in agreement.

Natasha watched as Potter swept her gaze across the area for a second time as she walked around the car, her features void of anything that would give a hint of what was going through her mind.

She was rarely wrong when it came to her instincts. That's what made her a great Agent, made her a great Avenger, and an even better Black Widow than the program had intended.

She excelled at reading people.

Except when she didn't, because she should have known Hydra was within SHIELD from the moment, she had stepped inside those walls.

It's that failure that epic screw up that had her request Potter's help with this particular job.

She needed to get a read on the other woman.

That and Clint's words running through her head had her curiously asking, as the woman came level with her.

"What do you see?"

"We are exposed. A good sniper would be able to pick us off from a distance, and we wouldn't know," Potter answered, indicating towards the few buildings that towered over the others. "Dunkin' Donuts, gas station. Family health centre. Lots of traffic both foot and vehicle, which could lead to a high number of civilian casualties."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. She hadn't expected that answer. "Your first thought is a sniper?"

"You have a lot of enemies," Potter answered, meeting her gaze. Natasha couldn't help but see the calculating hardness in them that she had seen in her own eyes whenever she dared to look in the mirror for too long.

Potter hadn't wasted her words, she had gotten down to the point, and Natasha could appreciate it. She was direct with her words. If she could get her point across with a few words and a small inflexion, then she would do just that.

"And if you were transporting goods, which direction would you go in?"

"I would do trial runs first, not knowing the area; I would need to find the quickest way out of a situation, ways to lose any possible tails," Potter paused, her eyes glanced in the four different directions of the corner they stood on. Before she snapped her attention back to Natasha "Four vans and three lorries, have already driven past in the short time we have been here. Those vehicles don't stand out here; they are part of the scenery."

"There is a ferry route that has a stop around the block. Plus the warehouse around the corner which is adjacent to a rail yard. It's not unusual," Natasha supplied, with a shrug of her shoulders. "What else?"

Potter glanced towards Dunkin' Donuts and Natasha suppressed the smirk that wanted to escape. Waiting to see what the other woman would say.

"Two men that have just entered Dunkin' Donuts, both of them are carrying guns, and neither of them has stopped looking at us since they came round the corner."

Natasha smiled slightly; she had spotted the two of them the moment she had slid out of the car. But then they were the whole reason she was here.

"Who do you think they are?"

"Police. Plain-clothes so possibly undercover or Detectives. They are paying too much attention to us to be civilians."

There was that word again, civilians. Potter was using it a lot, and by all accounts she was a civilian. It made Natasha wonder what exactly Potter classed herself as.

"What makes you say they are police? They could be Hydra?"

"They haven't started firing at us yet. Hydra wouldn't care about civilian casualties. Not if it meant taking a shot at you."

"You have a good eye. You see more than a civilian would usually pick up on."

"I'm observant."

"Or you have training."

Natasha watched Potter closely.

For appearance sakes, at first glance, Holly Potter was as ordinary and as normal as she could possibly be. Pretty, but not confident enough to see it, to use it, to stand out and bring that kind of attention to herself...preferring to blend in and appear harmless, appear smaller than what she was.

Except her gut was telling her that something didn't add up.

That Potter was trying to damn hard to fit into a neat little box of normal when the reality was that she was far from ordinary.

"Come on, I fancy some doughnuts," Natasha said, turning in order to walk towards the building.

She ensured her pace was steady, yet relaxed, putting on the pretence she was here for nothing more than the delicious doughnuts that Dunkin' Donuts served. Potter fell into step with her, and Natasha noticed that she was even more relaxed than Natasha was pretending to be.

Natasha had to learn that skill in the Red Room how to look harmless. Potter seemed to radiate the energy naturally. Calm soothing energy that you couldn't help but let wash over you and it fill you with a sense of protection, comfort and security. You got the feeling that you were safe with her, that you could tell her all your worries and that she would listen.

Natasha wasn't willing to let herself fall into the trap. Because the moment you let your guard down, the moment the knives and guns came out, and blood was spilt. She knew that better than anything.

Potter would have made an excellent Black Widow.

Natasha had seen the video footage at the gym, had seen just how quickly Potter had shifted into a predator the moment somebody tried to hurt her.

Natasha had no doubt that predator was lying in wait even now. Coiled to strike when the need arose, the moment someone came to close to her.

Yet she had also seen the footage in the medical wing. Somebody had hurt Potter badly, and while the woman had survived, the scars ran deep.

Clint was right in his assessment that Potter needed help.

The question was whether Potter needed help to heal, or needed help from the threat she was clearly running from.

Natasha stepped into the comforting warmth that Dunkin' Donuts had to offer, letting the delicious smell of doughnuts wash over her.

It was enough to make her mouth water, and she allowed herself the few seconds it took to sweep her eyes across the establishment to enjoy it.

She spotted the detectives in their corner who were not so subtlety watching her and Potter.

Cutting to the point, she gave a slight nod in their direction before turning her attention to the beaming woman behind the counter.

They didn't have the time to be subtle.

Not with the time frame they had to work with.

Her mind raced as they placed their orders and waited. She had ordered an extra bag of doughnuts for the detectives, as a goodwill gesture, and something she knew would pipe their interest enough to follow them out.

Natasha dared not have the conversation she was hoping to have with them where they could be overheard.

She cast another glance around the building.

It was quiet.

Three other customers besides them and the detectives.

Along with two members of staff.

Her shoulder blades itched from the weight of eyes watching her.

The seconds ticked by.

"Isn't it a cliché?" Potter said softly as she accepted two bags on doughnuts and her own hot drink.

"Everybody likes a sweet treat, and if it works, then it works," she answered as she picked her own paper bag and drink.

"Oh I can't argue that but why doughnuts. Why not something else?"

Natasha gave Potter a curious look; it wasn't something she had ever thought about.

"Convenient and easy. Sugary pick me up after a long shift."

Potter hummed before sipping her drink as they stepped out of the buildings.

"Simple things that keep you going."

"What is your pick me up?" Natasha asked an eyebrow rose as she watched the other woman.

"Chocolate Frogs and Glacial Snow Flakes," Potter answered absently, before freezing and quickly continuing, "They were novelty chocolate that was a big hit so ended up being sold year out."

Potter had slipped.

Innocently enough, but a slip never the less.

Natasha just couldn't determine why a hint of panic had laced her words at chocolate. But then she had never heard of Chocolate Frogs and Glacial Snow Flakes.

Interesting.

Not that she had time to pick apart that particular slip up, the doorbells chimed behind them, and Natasha glanced over her shoulder to see the two detectives exiting Dunkin' Donuts.

She nodded her head once in a show of invitation, before turning the corner with Potter.

"They are following," Potter muttered, before she sipped her drink.

Natasha nodded her head in acknowledgement, as they walked down the road.


XXX


Madoc clocked the two women as they stepped through the door. His eyes narrowing as he spotted the tell-tale signs of a weapon one of them was carrying.

The other wasn't carrying a weapon from what he could see, but something tugged in his gut that told him to be wary of them both.

From the stiffening of his partner's shoulders, he wasn't the only one.

Madoc recognised the woman with red-hair as soon as she turned slightly ensuring they had a proper angle of her face as she approached the counter with her companion.

It was hard not to when she was considered one of the Heroes of New York, and while he was one of those that thought the Avengers as that, heroes, he wasn't foolish enough to ignore the knowledge he had about the reputation of the Black Widow.

His eyes darted to the Black Widow's companion. Her back was facing them, and all he could see was she was dark-haired, yet he prided himself on having a good eye and a good nose for trouble.

His gut was telling him he needed to pay attention to the dark-haired female, more so than the Black Widow.

Eleven years since he had completed his training, three since he became a Detective, he wasn't one to ignore his gut.

Especially in the No-Maj world.

Many of his fellow Wizards and Witches considered working in the No-Maj world as beneath them.

He couldn't say it was the career or even the position he had dreamed about as a boy. Though considering his family name, he had long since come to the conclusion that being a Graves and having a sparkling career path within the Auror Department was a fools dream.

Yet somebody had to monitor the criminal underbelly of their world didn't cross over too much with that of the No-Maj.

And his Captain had deemed it was to be him.

He had made his peace with his position.

Even if it meant twice the reports.

And slowly over time working undercover in the Intelligence Division was something he had come to enjoy.

"Is there anything going down in the area that would warrant the attention of the Avengers?" Detective Sergeant Lowe muttered.

Madoc darted his gaze towards his commander and partner, before shooting back towards the two women.

"Not that I am aware of," he muttered as he took a sip of his coffee

The tug was back. Pulling at his stomach.

There was something, something about the Black Widow's companion that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Both women completed their order, two large take out bags and a hot drink for each of them in hand.

"I think Graves we have an invitation to follow them."

"Yeah," he nodded curtly as he rose to his feet.

He picked up his own cup of coffee and left the half-eaten doughnut, waiting the few seconds needed to look like a coincidence that he left at the same time as them, before exiting the building.

The two of them passed their SUV; the Black Widow glanced over her shoulder at them and nodded her head once before turning the corner.

"That was definitely an invitation."

As they reached the corner, Lowe crossed the road to the opposite side of the street and followed.

They may have received an invitation, but neither of them was foolish enough to blindly follow without taking the proper precautions.

What could possibly earn the Avengers attention, down in their little corner of Brooklyn?

His mind whirled as he followed them; nothing he had learnt in the last week alone would even register on their radar from either side of the line he so delicately walked.

A new drug had hit the streets.

The moniker the streets had taken to calling it Third Eye was raising more than a few eyebrows in the labs. The uncertainty of what was in it and finding nothing concrete to indicate where to look in the direction of who was responsible for manufacturing leaving them at a loose end.

While they usually left the drugs to the Narcotics Unit. The side effects of the drugs leading to more aggressive nature in the user resulting in violent crimes steadily rising, topped with whispers that the drug was funding a significant threat to the City had resulted in their unit focusing on the problem as well.

The women led him and Lowe round the corner, back towards the large warehouse complex where their offices, among many others, were located.

Madoc couldn't help but feel that the Black Widow wanted their attention, and this was how she was going about it getting it.

That was a cause for concern.

Madoc paused, tilted his head ever so slightly as the two of them crossed the street, under the footbridge towards some benches and sat down in clear view.

Lowe rejoined him, both of them watching the two women closely.

"I believe we should have a chat," Lowe said firmly as he stepped forward.

Madoc fell into step behind his commander, his eyes sweeping the area for any immediate threat, before narrowing onto the women.

His hand itched to reach for his wand, but he pushed down the urge to have it in his hand.

He knew better than that.

Especially walking the thin line, he was currently walking on right now.

They drew level, and as if that was what they expected, both women turned to face them as they approached.

Madoc felt his eyes widen, and his blood run cold, he glanced at the dark-haired woman.

Because she was somebody, he recognised.

His eyes fixed on the lightning bolt scar for a fraction longer than he should have before he locked gazes with her.

Green eyes hardened in the seconds he had given himself away in recognising that scar.

He stared at the woman.

She stared back.

Madoc swallowed the lump in his throat as he processed the knowledge of who she was.

He had been right in his assessment in being wary of her.

She was even more dangerous than the Black Widow.

And by all accounts, she was supposed to be dead.

But Holly Potter wasn't dead. She was living, breathing, and sitting right in front of him.

"Detective Graves will keep your companion company, as I do believe Ms Romanoff, we need to talk."

Madoc snapped his gaze between his commander and the Black Widow, who was watching him with amusement as she stood.

He blinked in surprise.

He hadn't been paying close enough attention and missed what his commander had suggested.

The two women shared a look, though he could see that Potter still managed to keep him in her line of sight.

Romanoff nodded once before stepping away from the table, his commander following behind.

Madoc sat down, the weight of Potter's gaze pressing down on him.

The silence stretched between them.

Madoc wasn't sure if he should say something, or whether he should hold his tongue.

In the end, he didn't have to.

Potter spoke first.

"You know who I am."

It wasn't a question, more a statement. But then when Potter had a scar as famous as hers was, a scar Madoc paid attention to a fraction longer than a No-Maj would have then, it didn't need to be a question.

"You're supposed to be dead."

Potter smiled, sadly.

"You have no idea."

"How?"

"It's complicated," Potter answered before taking a sip of her drink.

Complicated. Madoc had no doubt it was complicated, especially as she was currently with the Black Widow.

"The question now though Graves, what are you going to do with that information?"

Madoc frowned as he studied her.

"Why are you here?"

Potter sighed, "That really is complicated. Right now, Romanoff is asking your partner for help, explaining the situation as to why we are here. As to me, it's complicated."

"That's not an answer."

"No, I don't suppose it is."

She was giving nothing away, her eyes cold and calculating observed him patiently. Her expression was unreadable.

He could hear the danger laced in her words as she asked that question and he had no doubt that should he answer wrongly then she would take action.

Questions whirled in his mind.

He had heard the story of her demise, but he wasn't high enough in the chain to have read any official reports if there were any.

But Aurors talked.

The Wizarding World had mourned Potter.

The Underworld had cheered and breathed a sigh of relief.

He should report it to his Captain; report that Holly Potter was still alive. She was currently unregistered in their country. Yet something niggled and warned him to show caution that something else had to be happening.

Potter was a war hero.

The Girl Who Lived.

The Woman who Conquered.

The Champion of the Wizarding World.

An Auror whose reputation crossed the Wizarding World with awe, and fear to those who dared bring her wrath onto them.

If she was hiding from the Wizarding World, then there was a reason for it.

A reason why she was currently with the Black Widow.

With the Avengers.

He had to trust his gut and right now, his gut was telling him to take a blind leap of faith.

"I want answers if I'm not going to report it."

Potter's eyes widened ever so slightly.

Madoc could tell she hadn't expected that answer, and for the first time since he sat down he could see a flicker of hesitation breaking through her confidence.

He held her gaze, standing his ground.

"I can't give you all the answers you are looking for, not here, not now," she said after a while.

"Why let everyone believe you're dead?" he asked, wanting to get at least one honest answer.

Potter gave him a sad smile, "Because the dead aren't seen as a threat."

He blinked in surprise at her answer and the look of tiredness that crossed her face.

There was a story there; he had no doubt of that.

He opened his mouth to say something else but turned at the sounds of footsteps. A grim look twisted Lowe's face, and his eyes burned hotly.

He glanced back at Potter, but whatever had passed between them seconds ago was gone, and a cold mask was firmly in place.

"We have a problem," Lowe said firmly as he reached the table.

Madoc's eyes darted between his partner, the Black Widow, and Potter.

There was trouble brewing, Madoc had no doubt about that, and for the first time in his career it looked like both of his worlds were about to come crashing together, and he best be ready for it when that happens.


XXX


"You're like a mother hen, has anybody ever told you that."

Bucky gritted his teeth as he eyed Sam from his corner of the elevator.

"You totally are," Sam continued, pointedly ignoring his look. "I thought Steve was bad, but you beat him hands down."

"Shut up!"

"Hey man," Sam chimed, holding his hands up in defence, a grin spread across his face, "It's adorable."

"Steve was always getting himself into trouble," he muttered with a shake of his head.

"She's with Nat."

"I know."

"It was just recon."

"I know," he bit out slowly.

"I get it man, I do. But you are worrying about nothing, how much trouble could they possibly get into?"

Bucky threw him a look of disgust.

"I'm not worried."

"Right," Sam drawled, dragging the word out slowly as if to emphasise the point he didn't quite believe him.

Bucky wasn't worried. Not in the way Sam was thinking about. Natasha was more than capable of handling herself and any trouble that came their way and he had a sneaky suspicion that Holly would be able to handle herself equally as well.

It was the fact that Natasha had sprung the idea of taking Holly out in the field this morning that had him twitching.

Even Steve had been surprised when she had called up Holly to go out with her.

He knew exactly what she was up to.

Just as he knew what her cross examination techniques could entail.

He wasn't worried.

Concerned.

That was a more accurate word.

Concerned that Natasha would poke a little too far.

The elevator doors pinged open; unfurling himself he strode out of the doors, Sam on his heels.

His eyes scanned the corridor, resting on Holly as soon as he spotted her.

A quick glance told him that she was physically fine and that neither of them had fell afoul of trouble. Looking closer showed that she was relaxed, a slight smile on her face and amusement dancing in her eyes as she chatted with Natasha.

He would take that as a good sign that Natasha hadn't poked to hard.

As if his thought called her attention, Natasha turned to look at him as he approached.

Their gazes locked for a second longer than needed before they both looked the other way.

Bucky wasn't entirely sure his look had been altogether friendly.

"Dunkin' Donuts, I thought you were doing recon?" Sam greeted.

"That's what I said," Holly smiled as she turned to face them, "Apparently doughnuts can be enlightening."

"Oh, I already knew that," Sam smiled, "Please tell me you have a glazed doughnut, they are my favourite."

Holly handed him her two bags, "Knock yourself out. I have to get changed for training; otherwise, I will be late."

Sam snorted in amusement next to him.

"Don't let the out exterior fool you. Guys a teddy bear."

Holly flashed him a look, a smile crossing her face.

"Ignore birdbrain, he is using his one brain cell to focus on the doughnuts," Bucky said, "And you have time to change."

"Right oh, I guess I will see you in a second," she hummed, nodding once at Natasha before entering the door that led to the changing room.

"She was fine," Natasha said.

Bucky glanced at her.

"She is fine. Today at least. Don't treat her as if she is breakable."

"I'm not."

Natasha gave him a long look before nodding once and walking off, no doubt making her way to debrief Steve and Hill.

"She's right, you know. Hovering won't help," Sam said.

"I know, and I'm not hovering," he answered as they both stepped through the double doors and into the gym.

Barton was already there, as were the two others they were working with today. They didn't have to wait long for Holly to join them.

A fresh wave of anger rippled over her as he took in the sight of her scars again, and the Soldier stirred.

Together the six of them ran through the motions of warming up before paring off.

He eyed Holly across the mats.

Letting the sounds of the others sparring disappear as he observed her.

He wasn't sure why he wanted to test the waters with her.

Why he wanted to see how she would react, but he felt the compelling need to do so.

He had patience; he had it by the bucket loads, he should wait, hold back. Yet that part of himself that he desperately tried to keep locked away, looked at Holly with assessing scrutiny and smiled.

Fucking smiled.

So he would push, just a little, scratch the surface and see what came out afterwards.

He moved.

She tracked his movements almost instantly, dodging to the left.

Her face gave nothing away.

She had quick reflexes.

He was still holding back himself; it was time to up the ante.

He moved.

Attacked in a flurry of movements.

Let his strength and speed bleed through.

Metal and flesh.

She didn't disappoint.

With reflexes as quick as he suspected based on how she had reacted when he startled her, Holly moved.

Forward, as she spun to the right.

Left hand wrapping around his arm as she used the momentum of the movement to slam her elbow upwards into the side of his jaw.

She stepped out of the spin, behind him, dancing on the balls of her feet, narrowed eyes watching him closely.

He turned slowly.

She had gone straight for the knockout button. If she had used a little more strength, used her fist instead of an elbow and she could have knocked him out.

His lips twitched ever so slightly, his jaw protesting with a stab of pain.

He ignored it.

Good. That would work if someone else came after her.

He lunged.

She dodged.

He pushed.

She danced.

She didn't focus on hitting.

She focused on moving, on keeping herself out of reach of his every punch, of every move he made.

Edging to the walls.

Cornering her.

Gaining the advantage.

He kicked out.

Swiping her feet out from under her.

She slammed down hard.

A hiss escaped through her teeth as she hit the ground.

The wind knocked out of her.

"You're holding back. Stop holding back," Bucky warned.

She glared at him.

Before flipping herself up to her feet.

"Is that the best you can do?"

She was mocking him.

He smirked at her.

"Show me yours, and I will show you mine."

She charged.

His heart pounded a little faster as she pushed him back.

Her movements, controlled, fast and...Unpredictable.

She kicked.

Punched.

Countered.

Danced.

Back and forth.

She was a fraction quicker.

He was stronger.

Harder.

Better trained.

She took a hit to the ribs.

He took a smack to the nose.

His eyes watered.

He blinked through it as he lunged forward.

Right arm wrapping around her waist as soon as he made contact with her.

He lifted her off her feet and threw them downwards.

She brought a knee up into his stomach, but the movement was too late, they were already falling.

He used his metal arm to take most of the force of the fall softening the blow as he threw them both to the ground.

His body pressed against hers.

He could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

Both of them panting.

They stilled, eyes connected.

Green eyes widened in surprise, and then he felt it, the barest of flickers brushing against him, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

The bonds.

Her shield snapped into place, cutting off the warmth abruptly. Leaving an icy coldness in the pit of his stomach that crept through him.

Different from his shields, they seemed to pulse with an energy he couldn't quite describe, but he could see them. Multicoloured weaves that shimmered and glistened in his mind's eyes.

As if they were a river of something.

Fire?

But that didn't quite feel right either.

"You need to get off me."

"Sorry," he mumbled, pushing himself off her, and lifting her up with him.

As soon as she was on her feet, she took a step back.

Bucky was aware that they had everyone looking at them.

"Stop holding back. That way, we can help you improve."

"Yeah, right, sorry," Holly mumbled.

He looked at her; she met his gaze head-on.

"You good to go again."

She gave him a slight smile.

"Yeah, I can go again."

"Try attacking first, not just defending."

No sooner had the words left his mouth; she had already sprung into action, lunging forward at him.

He blocked the first punch, dodged the second.

A thrill of energy sparked through the bonds, like lightning sparking between them as they danced again.


XXX


Holly wasn't sure how long they had been sparring, but her muscles were beginning to ache.

She knew Bucky was holding back, on his strength at least, he was undoubtedly using his quickness to his advantage, she could barely keep up, but she was managing.

Just.

Then she was used to dodging spells, not punches and kicks.

Yet despite the bone aching weariness that was starting to sink into her, Holly could say she was enjoying herself.

She was barely aware of the others in the room.

"Okay, let's bring it to a close."

Holly eased herself back onto her feet, took a breath as her body relaxed, and she took a sip of water from the bottle that Bucky handed her.

She couldn't stop the satisfied smirk crossing her lips upon seeing the thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

She had made him work at least.

She took another sip of water.

"Barnes you taking Potter to the shooting range?" Barton called out.

"That was the plan," Bucky answered, sipping his own water.

Holly paused and glanced over at Bucky.

She didn't feel exactly comfortable with the idea of using a gun.

Bucky turned towards and indicated with a nod to follow him.

"C'mon, Hols. Let's see if we can get you up to Annie Oakley's level."

Holly glanced at him, frowning slightly, who exactly was Annie Oakley and when had she become Hols?

"Who?"

Bucky looked at her, his eyes widened with surprise, "Annie Oakley, sharpshooter and exhibition shooter. A renowned international star."

"Um, no. Sorry, I still don't know who you are talking about," Holly replied, trailing of sheepishly.

"Right, she was better known as 'Little Sure Shot', part of the Buffalo Bill's Wild West, which was kind of like a circus attraction that toured the States and Europe," he replied softly, as he led her out of the gym.

"Were you a fan?"

Bucky snorted, "I know I'm older than I look, Hols, but I'm not that old. The attraction started in 1883. There was a film called Annie Oakley that came out in 1935. Steve and I went to go and watch it."

"A fan of Westerns?" Holly asked.

"Liked them as a kid, the whole Wild West had a certain appeal, but in truth, at that age, I was a fan of Barbara Stanwych, the actress who played Annie."

Holly snorted.

Bucky looked at her and smiled slightly, "I was eighteen, and Barbara was a beautiful dame. A guy could dream."

"That's actually adorable."

He threw her a look as he pushed open another door.

The shooting range.

"You know, giving me a gun is not going to be a smart idea, what if I end up shooting someone in the ass? What if I shoot Captain America in the ass? The public will lynch me."

Bucky smirked as he winked at her, "You're right they would, it's America's ass. But I will keep you safe from the mob."

Oh, boy.

Holly snorted, "I feel safer already. Trademarked yet? Captain America's Ass."

"I'm sure if somebody was to suggest it to Stark, he would get his lawyers on it," he chuckled, "but in hindsight, I won't let you shoot anyone in the ass. I will be working with you every day until the night of the mission, and even then you will be handling I.C.E.R.s - non-lethal, just puts them to sleep."

"Like a baby?"

"So I've been told."

"So I can't accidentally kill someone?"

"No."

Holly felt her shoulders ease ever so slightly, a relief to know that she wouldn't kill anybody.

Bucky pushed open the door, and Holly followed in behind him.

The lights blinking to life the moment they stepped in, lightening up the whole room.

It was long, white, with several dividing booths.

There were targets everywhere.

Paper targets with outlined silhouettes lining the wall.

It reminded her of the Room of Requirements and fifth year.

"What do you know about guns?"

"They are loud. And they can kill people."

"Technically. Though it's more people kill people, and idiots with guns are the worst combination," Bucky replied.

"Then I am definitely an idiot," Holly muttered.

Give her a wand over a gun any day; at least she knew she consciously had to cast a spell either verbally or non-verbally to hurt somebody. It wouldn't just take a slip of a finger with a gun.

"Not if you take in what I am going to teach you. We will be working with a gun that is a similar design and shape of a Smith & Wesson M&P 9. It will be exactly the same shape, feel and weight when it is an actual I.C.E.R. The difference today is, we are shooting with rubber bullets."

Holly's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the relief the fact that she wouldn't accidentally kill Bucky or herself was welcoming.

"First things first, gun safety."

Holly wetted her lips nervously as she stood and listened.

"Rule one; always keep the gun pointed in a safe direction."

Holly nodded her head in understanding. Common sense, straightforward, she would be able to do that.

"Rule two; always keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot."

"Got it."

"Be a hundred per cent certain that you have identified your target, beyond any doubt."

That was something Holly knew she could do. Something that all Aurors were trained to learn. Hurting the innocent bystanders was an unacceptable outcome.

"If you draw your weapon, be prepared to shoot. Face that reality here and now, that if that weapon is in your hands, then you will be shooting another person. Doesn't matter if they are the bad guys, it doesn't matter if you know your gun won't kill them. One day you might have a gun in your hands that will," Bucky said firmly, "If it's in your hands if you are facing down an opponent, be prepared to shoot. Because you won't have the luxury to not. Not in this job. If they are the enemy, I guarantee they won't hesitate and then it will be you that will be dead, and anyone else with you."

Holly's heart clenched tightly as she swallowed slowly, her gaze locked onto Bucky's.

His blue eyes had hardened with coldness, his tone distant as he brought to a close the last lesson, the most important lesson of all.

It was a valuable lesson, and one she knew well. Holly had long since accepted that her actions had consequences. Every single one of them. She had learnt that hesitation gets people killed, gets people she loves killed. Gets her entire team of Auror's killed.

She no longer hesitated.

She gave one chance, and one chance only for somebody to back away, but she didn't hesitate when it came to fighting when it came to saving lives.

Holly had learnt she couldn't afford that.

Whether it would feel different with a gun in her hands, rather than a wand, was hard to say. Her knowledge of spells gave her unlimited options, not all of them lethal.

A gun, a gun, only left one option.

But Holly knew that if it came down to it. She wouldn't hesitate.

It was a cold truth and one that she felt guilty over because she didn't feel guilty about not hesitating.

Holly gave a slight nod to say she understood and Bucky turned his attention to the gun lying on the table at one of the booths.

He ran through how to load the magazine correctly with the bullets before sliding the first magazine into the gun.

Despite the gun being lightweight, according to Bucky, it still felt heavy, solid, real in her hands and so very different from a wand.

It didn't feel right.

Once the gun was loaded, he had her place it back on the table before loading more magazines until he was satisfied she knew how to do it.

"Usually goggles and ear protection are worn, but out in the field, you aren't going to have that option. So I want you to learn without them, get you used to everything," he said softly, as he picked up the gun and handed it to her.

He gently pushed her arm away, pointing the gun towards the targets.

A strange sense of calm settled over her snuffing out any nervous jitters about handling a gun.

It was a new weapon to her, one that she rarely handled, but Holly wasn't a stranger to weapons, wasn't a stranger to marking targets, to aiming and firing.

"There is a thumb safety on this model that needs to be deactivated, but the I.C.E.R.s will be set up to register your fingerprints. They won't work for anybody else, but you, in your hands," Bucky said.

Holly slipped her thumb over the safety and flicked it upwards.

Bucky flicked a switch, and a paper target moved closer, stopping about halfway between the far wall and the table.

"We will start off at this distance first, and work our way up."

Holly stepped forward, as Bucky moved closer to her.

"That's your target. You have to keep your eye on the target, but be aware of what is going on around you. See your environment, see everything around your target, be aware of any innocent by standards, and be aware of other enemies," Bucky said gently.

"Stand up straight. Shoulder's back." Bucky rested his hands on her shoulders as she followed his instructions.

She couldn't help but wonder if he could hear her heart pounding. Could he feel it?

He slid his hands from her shoulders, and Holly couldn't help but shiver slightly, when exactly had that been a weak spot for her, his fingers trailing down to her elbows.

His breath tickled the side of her neck; it made her skin prickle and the hair on her arms stand to attention. She was hyperaware that she was armed, and he was standing close to her.

Too close.

She swallowed slowly.

"Just relax," he whispered, "You're going to breathe in, focus along the sight, and as you exhale, you're going to squeeze the trigger. Squeeze with steady, firm pressure."

Holly nodded.

His hands travelled back to her shoulders.

"Okay, you're going to take three breaths. The third time you exhale, you shoot."

Holly took a breath.

She could so this, she knew how to aim; she knew how to fire a spell.

Firing a gun should be no different.

She took a second breath, focused on the target, her eyes finding the spot she intended to hit.

Holly squeezed the trigger as she exhaled for the third time.

Holly knew it would be loud, and it was, but she hadn't expected the recoil.

She jerked backwards, colliding with Bucky's chest. His hands caught her hips, steadying her. Her ears rang, and Holly felt the heat rise to her checks as every nerve in her body sparked.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

His hands skimmed up from her hips to her sides.

Holly felt tiny electrical zaps under her skin where his fingers trailed.

"I should have warned you," Bucky said slowly, though Holly could hear the catch in his throat. He cleared his throat, "Okay, let's try it again. Just take your time. Sight down your shoulder and along your arm. Squeeze smoothly."

Holly closed her eyes and took a breath.

She could do this.

She could do this.

She could aim, and she could fire.

She was in control.

Holly opened her eyes. Focused on the target.

Slipped into the coldness that lived inside of her. Pushing everything else aside.

It wasn't a gun in her hand, it was just a wand. A wand without the hand movements, the flicks and the turns and twists.

Holly raised the gun, aimed at the paper silhouettes, and squeezed the trigger.

She was ready for the recoil, her body allowing for it, without jerking backwards.

She squeezed off the rest of the shots with a stable hand.

Her ears were ringing once the last rubber bullet left the chamber. Without waiting for Bucky to instruct she flipped the safety switch back on, lowered the gun and rested it on the table.

Bucky pressed the button, and the paper silhouette moved closer.

"You sure you haven't fired a gun before?"

"No, I definitely haven't fired a gun before. I have had to aim things at people before though."

"Beginners luck then, you have six out of nine on target. Let's see if you can do it again."

And Bucky meant precisely that.

He had her practise shooting until all the magazines she had loaded were empty, and her hand ached.

Holly was pretty sure that she would be able to do the movements in her sleep by memory alone.

Not that all of them were on target, but it was only her first day; she wouldn't become an expert in a couple of hours.

Or even a week, but if she learned enough not to hit an ally, then Holly would be content with that.

Even if she didn't like it.

"That's enough for today. You've done well, we will continue to work on it, and we will get you feeling confident enough to handle one in the field."

Holly snorted, "I don't think that is likely."

Bucky gave her a small smile, "Confident enough not to hit anyone other than those you are supposed to hit." He corrected before continuing, "It will be the same time tomorrow. Gym first to work with the others, and then the shooting range."

Holly nodded, that sounded doable.

Maybe.

The two of them chatted as they tidied away the weapons, Bucky locking them up in one of the lockers that stored those kept at the range for training purposes before they exited the room.

"What are you doing for lunch?" Bucky asked as they made their way towards the changing room.

"Tank and Jax invited me to lunch with the others. Since I wasn't with them for the tour I think they are curious, plus I think not working with SHIELD -" she trailed off.

"Makes everyone want to know your story."

"I guess," Holly shrugged. She was personally under the impression they wanted to dissect her to determine just who she was.

"I could always give you a job as an excuse not to go."

Holly laughed softly, "Don't tempt me."

He gave her a slight smile.

"You have the work phone, right?"

"Yeah, it's in my locker."

"Jarvis, can you send Hols my number," Bucky said.

"Of course, Sergeant Barnes."

"And send me hers."

Holly frowned.

"Stark has them linked up to Jarvis so he can send a message to us all if we need it. Useful in an emergency," Bucky explained, "Message me if you need rescuing from your lunch."

Holly smiled, "I will do that."

"Enjoy your lunch Hols."

"Thanks," she muttered, watching his retreating form as he made his way to the lift.

With a shake of her head she turned to the changing room doors and pushed them open just as Tank and Jax opened it from the other side.

"Oh good, you're done," Tank greeted.

"Yeah, I won't be long I just need to change."

"We will wait."

"Okay."

The door closed behind them and Holly took the moment she was alone to let out a breath.

It had been a long day and it wasn't over yet.

But between crossing paths with Graves, an Auror from MACUSA in the most surprising of places, though Holly wasn't sure who was surprised the most - him or her.

Finding out about a shipment and Hydra cells she was on edge.

"The day's not over yet."

With a shake of her head, Holly grabbed her clothes before making her way towards the showers.


Holly watched as Starks employees avoided the five of them like they were the plague.

Almost as if because they worked on the upper levels of the Tower they were to be avoided at all costs.

"Is it always like this?" Holly asked.

The five of them had commandeered a table in the cafeteria on the lower floors of the Tower.

"From what we can gather. They know we work in the Tower, that we work on the upper floors with the Avengers but nobody really knows what it is we actually do," Jax answered, "So they avoid us."

"Why?"

"We don't fit into the rest of the Tower. Besides Phillips, none of us are scientists. So we aren't busy working in the labs developing new and wonderful things to help Stark Industries prosper."

"I'm an engineer, not a scientist," Phillips said pointedly.

"Yes, and the Tower has floors dedicated to engineers as well as scientists," Jax countered, "You have the Finance Department. HR. PR. Scientists. Labs. Engineers. Legal. Project Managers, practically anything you could possibly think of, and then you have...us," Tank said, shrugging, "that works with the Avengers."

"Right, so we are like aliens or something because we don't fit into those boxes."

"Pretty much. Doesn't help that we are former SHIELD."

"Right, got you." Holly nodded as she plucked a fry from her plate, her eyes scanning the cafeteria again.

She had to give Stark credit, he considered the well being of his staff.

The cafeteria covered the whole of the 30th floor. Half set out like a cafeteria, which had massive screens broadcasting whatever channels people wanted. The other half Holly would say resembled more of a common area, consisting of comfortable sofas and chairs, a few game stations, which she could see that some of Stark's security were currently occupying in their free time.

She sipped her drink and picked another fry, listening as the others chatted around her, offering her two Knuts worth when she wanted, but generally enjoying herself.

It was different, and while she had stuck to the same story when answering the questions they threw her way, Holly found that the others were a little more relaxed.

There was still the suspicious edge to them, but less suspicion directed her way.

For the time being.

She learnt little bits of information as she listened to them.

She learned the healthy level of respect that they had for both Barton and Romanoff, who had been one of them even before they saved the world.

They answered her questions, they joked and they laughed.

Holly found herself joining in.

She sent a quick message to Bucky, to reassure him that she didn't need rescuing, to which he responded equally as quickly with a smiley face before stating he might need rescuing from debriefing.

Holly swallowed the snort, before taking a bite of her chicken burger.

"I have to ask who comes up with the monikers. I mean Hawkeye; you mentioned a Mockingbird and the Calvary?" Holly asked. She wasn't sure if they were quite as bad as the ones the Wizarding World had come up for her.

"Every name has its origin in how the agent got it. I don't think anyone really knows the full story about any of them, but the agents themselves," Jax answered, a twisted pained look crossed his face as he continued, "our old Commander used to say that those who end up with a name, survived what should have killed them. So when they rise through the fire and blood, they are christened with a new name."

"What happened to him?" Holly asked.

Tension emanated from them all, Holly instantly regretted the question. Tank had an intense cold stare as he looked at her. Jax's jaw clenched tightly.

"Hydra," she answered for them understanding dawning on her, "I'm sorry."

"Bastard was Hydra, high up," Tank agreed.

"From what the reports say, he was one of the Sons of bitches that helped keep the leash on the Winter Soldier. Who led the attack on Fury, on it all," Sawyer informed her.

"Don't call him that," Holly said firmly.

All eyes looked at her, Sawyer's widened in surprise, but Holly refused to flinch under their intense stare.

"He killed a lot of us that day," Phillips said quietly.

"I know, not by choice," Holly answered.

"You weren't there Holly, you don't know what it was like," Tank growled.

She turned looked up at him, the intensity of his cold rage pressing down on her skin.

She refused to back down from it.

Holly understood his rage.

Merlin knew it was justified.

She knew what it was like to be in the middle of a battle fighting for her life while friends and family died around her, killed by those who claimed they were allies.

"Have you been a captive? A prisoner of War. Held in enemy hands? Tortured?" She asked slowly, ensuring her tone was as neutral as she could make it. "Have you ever had someone mess with your head so you can't remember who you are, or whether it is day or night?"

"Yes," Tank admitted.

Holly let her face show more than understanding as she looked at Tank. Tank whose eyes softened ever so slightly with realisation.

"Barnes had all that and more for seventy years. None of us knows what Hydra put him through," she continued. Carefully ensuring she referred to him as his last name.

Holly took a breath, trying to convey her point, without revealing too much of her own past, or even her connection to Bucky.

"Your anger at Hydra is justified. Your anger at your Commander is justified. He was family, your brother, your leader, you would have died for him. And he betrayed you...stabbed you in the back. Barnes isn't your enemy though. You need to stop thinking of him like that."

"Have you ever been betrayed by someone you looked up to? That you trusted?" Tank asked.

Holly swallowed the lump forming in her throat, her mind conjuring the image of Dumbledore almost instantly. She had loved him, trusted him, and looked up to him. He hadn't been evil, but he had betrayed her in more ways than she could truly forgive him. He had known about the Dursleys, and he sent her back there every year. He let her face every trial each year she had been in school. Testing her merit, her strength, her heart all so she could die at the appointed time.

Dumbledore hadn't known she would survive Riddle killing her.

He couldn't have possibly known.

He had never intended her to survive the war.

"Yes," she answered, meeting Tank's gaze with her own, letting him know she knew that kind of betrayal.

She had perhaps revealed more about herself than that one word should have done so, but it was necessary, and if it meant that they would see Bucky as a person rather than the enemy then it was worth it.

Bucky didn't deserve their hatred.

None of them said anything, continuing to eat their lunch in silence and Holly felt the tiniest bit guilty of that. She hadn't intended to dampen the mood when she had asked about the monikers that some of them seemed to carry.

Holly was aware of someone approaching their table as she picked up another fry.

From the way the others tensed, she wasn't the only one. A sombre mood had fallen over them, but that didn't mean they weren't aware of what was happening around them.

Holly glanced up from her plate, fixing on the man approaching.

He was dressed in all black, Stark Security logo on the sleeve of his shirt that seemed to bulk from the muscles in his arms. Blue eyes hidden behind bruises looked down at her.

Williams.

The guy she had sparred against yesterday.

Merlin had it only been a day since her episode in the medical wing.

Don't think about it.

She steeled her spine as she observed him.

He still gave the impression he wasn't someone that you wanted to cross, same confident swagger to him, and though Holly wasn't sure it quite crossed the line to arrogant, he was borderline.

A smile that some would consider charming crossed his lips.

He was good looking, even under the bruises. Holly could admit that she wasn't blind after all, but she ignored it all as she took note of the smaller details.

Like how the cold darkness shifted inside of her, and eyes opened, and limbs unfurled and claws kneaded her mind.

Her senses were hyper-alert and stretching outwards, testing and tasting.

A coppery scent mixed with a deep, overpowering smell of wet earth that brought images of decay and mould to her mind. The sickening stench slithered down her throat and made her want to vomit.

The hair on the back of her neck stood to attention, and her magic hissed, drew tight ready and waiting like a bow and arrow to strike away the cause of her unease.

Her eyes narrowed at Williams.

She hadn't had any weird vibes off him yesterday, yet everything inside of her was screaming for her to take a step back.

Holly tilted her head to the side as she attempted to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

Magic.

But that couldn't be right.

Was it on Williams, or was it coming from Williams?

Holly wasn't sure and she dared not make a move until she was.

"Potter," he nodded his head towards her, threw her a sheepish look, which Holly couldn't quite determine whether was genuine or not.

"I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I overstepped."

Holly blinked in surprise.

He sounded genuine, he was saying all the right words, making all the right gestures.

Holly nodded in acknowledgement, "Apology accepted, but like Barton said, what happens in the training room isn't taken out of the training room. So no hard feelings."

He gave her a smile that Holly gathered was supposed to be dazzling.

All teeth.

The darkness growled, snapping its own teeth in response as it lunged forward.

Holly pulled it back, gripping tightly with all the strength of will she could muster, wincing inwardly, as she grappled with her magic...with the power.

I hear you loud and clear, you don't have to be quite so loud, she grumbled.

Danger.

Why?

She received a huff in response.

Holly swallowed the snort, right if she was too stupid to realise why then why should it answer her.

Holly really needed to understand what was happening to her, before she lost control entirely because there were days when Holly knew it was a close call.

She swallowed back the anger that was threatening to tear free from her, grateful that nobody else seemed to have noticed her internal battle, though Williams was still hovering.

Right, he was apologising.

She had accepted his apology, though.

She flashed him her own smile in response to his, hoping that it would satisfy him enough to make him go away.

Surprisingly it worked, though she couldn't help but note that his smile widened a fraction before he turned on his heel and walked away.

"Did I miss something then?" she asked.

"Besides someone's poor attempt of flirting, no," Jax replied.

"Come again?" Holly choked.

"He was laying it on a bit thick," Phillips hummed in agreement.

Holly blinked, "Seriously?"

Phillips looked at her, "From what I hear the guy is a serious flirt. Will flirt with anything that has legs and breasts."

"I'm not sure if you are insulting me there," Holly replied.

Phillips snorted, "You interested."

"Nope!" she squeaked in response.

"Not available?" Jax smirked.

"I'm so unavailable like the dead aren't available unavailable."

The last thing she needed was to start some fling with someone, and that was before she took into account the awkwardness already between her, Bucky and Steve.

Adding that particular element, even if none of them owed anything to the other was just asking for trouble.

"That's a specific kind of unavailable," Tank snorted, "The grapevine states Williams wants to work on the upper levels."

Holly glanced at Tank, she already knew that, but she was surprised he knew that.

"How do you know that?"

"It pays to pay attention, and while they," he nodded towards everyone else, "are avoiding us, doesn't mean they don't gossip."

"I will take your word for it."

"Show caution, either way, Holly, there is just something off about the guy."

Tank didn't have to tell her, her own instincts were screaming that there was something off about Williams. Problem was if it involved magic, Holly was pretty sure she was going to have to pay close attention to him. At least until she could figure out whether the magic was from him, or on him.

The rest of lunch passed with little excitement.

Chatter returned, and the conversation stayed on lighter topics, before Holly was even really aware of the time, her phone beeped with a message to meet Steve in the War Room, prior to them leaving for the stake-out.