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Chapter 8:-
Holly shifted in her seat.
She was sure her legs had gone numb. Only she wasn't sure if it was down to the cold, or because she had been sitting for too long in the same position.
Though she supposed it could have been a combination of the two elements.
She really wished she had worn her jumper from Mrs Weasley. The witch had a way with enchanting them as she knitted them so that they would always keep you warm.
But maroon or green didn't precisely scream subtle and subtle was what they needed when camping out in an SUV on a stakeout.
Subtle she could do, though she wasn't sure an SUV fit that particular description.
Holly reached for the jelly beans, the second relevant 'S' when it came to stakeouts - Snacks, confident in the knowledge with them being the muggle kind she wasn't about to pick up a vomit flavour, before popping a few into her mouth.
She shifted in her seat again, rubbing her hands together.
It was cold tonight, the temperature steadily dropping.
"My jacket is on the back seat if you are cold."
Holly blinked in surprise as she looked up at the man sitting next to her. For the last hour and a half, you could have cut through the silence in the SUV like a knife through butter. They had said brief words to each other, or more Steve had relayed instructions and Holly had followed them.
"Thank you," Holly muttered as she reached around, carefully avoiding the two hot flasks perched in the middle cup holders, and grabbed his jacket.
"You aren't cold?" she asked, laying his jacket across her knees, tucking it a little more around the side of her legs.
"This isn't cold," he replied, his lips twitching ever so slightly, "but it does help that I run hotter than average."
"The serum?" She supposed he was right, it wasn't cold, at least not cold how Hogwarts had been cold, but it was a different type of cold and sitting doing nothing was certainly making her feel it.
"The serum." He nodded in confirmation, his eyes never leaving the location they were staking out.
They had been there since three, carefully parked down one of the streets opposite one of the possible locations - A Container Terminal located in Brooklyn.
Holly had been surprised that she wasn't staking out the location she had visited earlier, but she didn't question it.
From their vantage point, they could see any vehicles coming and going, whether they were cars or trucks. Holly had lost track of how many plates she had photographed and sent to Jarvis to allow him to gather all the information he could.
She knew Bucky and Sam were somewhere else, watching from a different vantage point, seeing an entirely different scene.
But between the four of them, they had sights on where the containers were unloaded, and the exit for any vehicle leaving.
"Logically, would they show up before the night the shipment is due?" Holly asked, breaking the silence that had fallen once again.
Holly didn't find silence uncomfortable, or at least she usually didn't. But being this close to Steve was making her hyperaware of him, of the bonds.
And she didn't want to focus on them, so she needed to distract herself from it.
"Probable. Get a lay for the land, work out what route to take - go over every minor detail they need to go over."
"Are they likely to spot us if they do?"
Holly already knew that answer, having discreetly cast a Notice-me-not Charm on both their vehicle and the one Bucky and Sam were using.
It wasn't as powerful as the Disillusionment Charm, but casting that particular spell on a moving vehicle that would be around other moving vehicles was asking for trouble. Blending something into the background was all well and good but other vehicles needed to be able to see other cars to not crash into them.
Instead, the charm offered a layer of protection that would allow the vehicle to register in someone's line of sight, but the attention and focus to the details of the plate number and whether anybody was sitting in it all night would be tricky.
Unless somebody was looking for them specifically and they knew what they were looking for.
But Steve didn't know about magic, didn't know she had offered her contribution in protecting them as best she could.
So she asked because she needed to know what Steve had planned in case something did crop up.
Steve looked at her; even with the shadows dancing across his face she could see the burning intensity in his eyes as he did, the silent promise that if they ended up in trouble he would ensure she was safe. She stared back, refusing to give an inch, with a clear statement of her own that she would have his back and he wouldn't need to protect her if things went south.
"You don't need to worry about that, we have taken every precaution that we can," he reassured.
"I never said I was worried," she answered slowly.
And she wasn't worried, she trusted her magic.
But Steve didn't know that and was entirely in his right to think she would be worried about a confrontation.
Steve's natural instincts seemed to lean towards protecting others, standing up against those who would dare to abuse their power, their position to threaten others. Those who wanted to tear the world down and destroy everything that didn't fit into 'their' world order.
He would have fought tooth and nail against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and despite not having knowledge of the Wizarding World, Holly had no doubt in her mind that he would have presented a challenge to them.
They fell silent again.
Holly shuffled.
Yep, her ass had definitely gone numb.
Merlin, she was better than this.
She had conducted her own stakeouts in the past and had handled them fine. Yet this one was having her feel like she was eleven years old all over again without a clue as to what she was doing.
She was better than that.
Holly steeled herself, strengthened her shields and reached for the calming cooling darkness and wrapped it around her tightly.
She needed it more than she wanted to admit, because sitting next to Steve even with her shields in place, she could feel the zingy energy crackling in the air between them.
She wasn't sure he was aware he was doing it. The bonds between them attempting to reach and connect. Knowing they were close and yet both of them were shielding, refusing to give an inch.
Did she break the silence?
Or did she wait it out?
"You're thinking about the bonds to hard."
Holly looked up at him, her eyes widening.
"Come again."
"I can feel it, whenever you give attention to them like it gets an extra boost to push against my shields."
Holly wasn't sure whether she should apologise or not.
"The double-edged sword. As soon as you are told not to think about something you think about it."
"Yes."
"What does it feel like?" Her curiosity getting the better of her.
This time it was Steve that shifted in his seat.
"Hot and cold. It's strange; it's like a burning star pressing against my skin that is both hot and cold like it can't decide what it wants to be. But even that is an oversimplification. It's stronger than that, deeper, like an explosion of clashing forces."
"You feel hot. Like the sun," Holly admitted, "And Bucky is like the ocean, calm except when it isn't. Cold as well."
Steve snorted, "He's always been like that, but it has more ice now."
Her insides wiggled uncomfortably.
Twisting vines of thorns and ice. Holly was painfully aware of the history Steve had with Bucky, decades before she had even been born. It connected them in a way she would never be able to fully understand.
She nibbled at her bottom lip, letting her mind whirl with thoughts.
"How about we play a game? It will keep us both occupied and stop us falling asleep," Steve suggested, as he helped himself to some jelly beans.
"What kind of game are you thinking of?" Holly asked, looking at him in surprise.
"Two facts and one fiction."
"Two facts about what?" Holly said with a raised eyebrow.
"About ourselves, and the other is a statement that is untrue about ourselves, and then we have to guess which are true and which is untrue," Steve answered, "The game is actually called Two truths and one lie, but I prefer my version."
"And we don't have to expand on the truths?" Holly asked, frowning slightly.
"No. Neither of us has to expand any further than a statement if we don't want to," Steve said slowly, his tone gentle and soothing.
Holly hesitated, her mind spinning over the idea. She didn't have to reveal anything she didn't want to. Steve was giving her complete control over what truths she told.
But she would have to tell some truths.
So long as she was careful, Holly didn't see an argument for why she couldn't play.
"Okay, let's play," she nodded, flashing a smile. Steve looked at her, though Holly wasn't sure what was going through his mind, before offering a smile of his own.
"Ladies first," Steve prompted.
Holly fell silent, slowly pondering her two truths. She would start off slow first, ones that she didn't mind sharing, light-hearted, ones that didn't give too much away about things she didn't want to think about.
"My Aunt once shaved my hair off. I wore my cousin's hand-me-downs. And I was the most popular girl in my school before boarding school," Holly answered.
Steve coughed struggling with amusement, "Your aunt shaving your hair off has got to be fiction."
"Final answer?"
"Final answer," he nodded.
"Sorry to say, Captain, that was a truth," Holly chuckled.
"Why?" he spluttered as he glanced at her.
"My hair was unruly, didn't matter how you cut it when I was five, it had a way of sticking up at all angles like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards. My aunt, I think had reached the end of her tether that day and just shaved it all off."
"The hand-me-downs?"
"Also a truth. I was a loner in school, not the most popular girl," Holly confirmed, not expanding that her cousin used to beat people up that even thought about making friends with her, "Plus kids can be cruel."
"Yes they can," Steve agreed.
"Your go."
Steve took a few minutes to think before answering, "I used to stuff newspapers in my shoes. I threw up on the Cyclone roller coaster at Coney Island. And I joined the army the same time as Bucky."
Holly nibbled her bottom lip. She knew the newspaper in shoes was likely to be true. Times were hard in the 20s, and 30s and shoes had cost a lot of money. The likely hood of being able to afford to buy new ones regularly was unlikely.
She could admit to herself, besides knowing Captain America's history with Hydra and being a large part in their downfall during World War 2, she didn't know enough about his past to know all the facts.
"I'm going to say you throwing up on the Cyclone is a lie," she said uncertainly.
"That one is true. I didn't have the strongest stomachs when I was younger," Steve answered, "I didn't join with Bucky; I was rejected several times before I was given a chance with Project Rebirth."
"How? I mean, I know how you were rejected, but I thought it was marked on your file once you had been rejected?" Holly asked in surprise.
"I changed where I was from each time."
"You are stubbornly determined when you put your mind to something, aren't you."
"I needed to do my part," he admitted quietly.
"I can understand that, and you did. You both did," Holly said softly, "Every single person who fought in that war did their part, did more than their part. They allowed us to continue on with our freedom, we just screwed everything up afterwards."
Holly reached for a few more Jelly Beans, thinking about her next two truths and one fiction.
"I found myself in the school medical room that often, the school nurse had a plaque over one of the beds with my name on it. I joined my house sports team when I was eleven. At twelve, my friend and I borrowed his dad's car to get to school because we missed the train."
She smiled slightly; it was a truth, even if it involved flying rather than actual driving on the road.
"I really want to say the borrowed car at twelve, but from the smile on your face I have a sinking feeling that one is actually true," Steve declared, his eyes narrowed as he glanced at her.
Holly shrugged as she swept her gaze out of the windows. Not a single vehicle had passed for the last forty-five minutes.
"The plaque over the bed has to be fiction," he finally committed.
"You would be correct, I was accident-prone and she did threaten to do it many times, but she never actually did it," Holly admitted.
"So in trouble all the time then?" he asked casually.
"My Professors would certainly agree with that statement, but in my defence, I wasn't in trouble for the sake of being in trouble, or because I thought it was cool to get the most detentions. It was always for good reasons."
"Like what?" Steve's eyebrow rose.
Holly glanced at him; she could see the amusement in his face by the crinkle around his eyes. Not to mention the tone, amusement definitely laced that question.
She thought about her answer, she could use so many examples yet each one would raise more questions, questions Holly wanted to avoid.
"The grounds keeper at the school was a gentle giant, had a love and passion for animals. He ended up getting a pet that wasn't considered exactly legal by winning it in a poker game," Holly said finally.
"Dare I even ask what the pet was?"
"Think wild, deadly and exotic. That is cute when it's first born, but would grow considerably large," Holly answered, "One of the pupils in a rival school house, I guess you could say he was like our archenemies at eleven, or he certainly liked to think himself as that. Always wanting to get me in trouble, he saw the pet and it was just a matter of time before he told someone and Hagrid would end up getting the sack."
"What exactly did you do Holly?" Steve asked, a frown creasing his forehead.
"My friend had a brother who was a keeper at a reserve, so we contacted him and then we tried to smuggle the animal out of the school."
"And you got caught?"
"Oh no, we managed to get the animal out of the school, we just got caught out of bed at one in the morning," Holly smiled at the memory. She had thought she was going to be expelled at that particular point.
Steve chuckled, "A rebel with a cause."
"Don't judge 'Mr I will try and join the army seven times by falsifying my documents'. I'm pretty sure that's illegal."
"Oh, it is," Steve winced, "I was always finding myself in trouble and Bucky was always pulling me out of it."
Holly flashed him a smile, "My friends would say the same. Only more often and not they ended up neck deep right alongside me."
"You miss them," Steve said gently.
Holly nodded once, she did miss them. But missing them didn't change anything.
Shoving the feelings down, she turned to Steve who was watching her with too observant eyes. She had no doubt that he had caught the look that had crossed her face.
"Whose go is it next?" she smiled a forced smile, but a smile never the less and that had to count for something.
The two of them continued passing back and forth two truths and one fiction as the minutes ticked by.
A little more outlandish with every turn.
Of course, it was also a perfect opening to learn a little more about the other, and Holly could see why Steve had chosen it. It was a smart way of getting someone to open up without the feeling of interrogation.
Even knowing this Holly couldn't help but find herself relaxing a little more with her goes, her competitive side rearing its head as she managed to catch Steve out a few times.
But then her life, without the knowledge of magic or the content of her truths sounded fictitious.
It wasn't just Steve that was learning though, Holly was, in turn, learning about Steve.
She hadn't known about the 'Captain America tour', and or the 'I punched Hitler' scene, even if it had just been an actor.
"My godfather was an escaped convict. I once performed at the Sydney Opera house, and I led an illegal club when I was fifteen," she said slowly.
It was the first time she had mentioned anything about the darker side of her past. A connection to a War she wasn't entirely sure she had ever left and to a man who had spent over half of her life wanting her dead.
Even if Steve would never know what those statements meant.
"It's meant to be one fiction, Holly."
"Oh, I know, means two of those statements are true," she said, a smirk crossing her face.
He blinked at her, "I can't possibly determine which one of them is fiction, two of them should definitely be fiction."
"And yet two of them are true," she answered as she looked out of the window.
"Do you know based on all three I'm going to pick the one that should definitely be true and say it its fiction. You once performed at the Sydney Opera House."
She looked at him as she started to reply, pausing before the first word passed her lips, a flash of lights caught her attention in the side mirror.
She frowned.
Car lights?
"Am I right, or am I wrong?"
"Steve," Holly warned, using the turn of her head to glance out of the rear window.
"What's wrong?" He said sharply, all hints of amusement vanishing as he tensed at the sound of her voice.
"We are about to have company, a cop car has just pulled up behind us," Holly answered, calmly.
Her heartbeat pounded a little harder. The Notice-Me-Not spell should hold.
Unless these cops were looking for them.
"What do you want to do?" She asked, glancing at Steve.
He was looking at the rear-view mirror.
"If we move, we make ourselves more obvious," he answered slowly; "I can't see the shop number with it parked behind us."
He pressed a button, "Jarvis, are there any assigned patrol cars at our current location?"
"New York City dispatch shows no units are at your current location, Captain."
"Not many people will question seeing a patrol car. It's just doing what it is supposed to be doing. Patrolling," Holly confirmed, "It's kind of a genius cover when you think about it."
"So it could be here staking out the place like we are, and if we move we tip our hand, they may not realise we are here yet."
"Or they have clocked us," Holly finished, "Do you want me to message the others?"
"Yeah, we need them on standby. Jarvis, inform Natasha and Hill our current situation please."
"Of course, Captain."
Holly fired a message to Bucky, which he quickly responded to.
"Bucky says they are on their way," she said.
"Have them hold back, but closer to hand than their current position," Steve ordered, before glancing at her.
"Are you armed?"
Holly glanced at him, their gazes locking. She could hear the unasked question, was she ready for a fight if it came down to it.
"I am. Knives in each boot and a few other places, never know when you need to cut your way out of some ropes," she admitted. She had her wand on her as well, but that was the last resort.
Steve nodded, turning his attention back to the mirrors.
She couldn't read his expression, it was blank as a wall, but she could tell he was thinking, his mind racing over possible plans and outcomes no doubt. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white and his gaze darted between his side mirror and the rear-view mirror.
Her stomach hardened in anticipation, jittery nerves sparking through her body as she eased into a battle stance, ready and waiting to move if she needed to.
Seconds turned to minutes.
Neither of them dared to breathe too loud or make a sound, and yet whoever was in the patrol car didn't move a muscle.
It was an odd sort of standoff.
The only thing breaking the tension were Hill and Romanoff quietly communicating, through the channel Steve had activated in the car between them and the Tower. She had dialled Bucky and was currently on speak phone with them so they could be in easy communication as well.
"Are we thinking Hydra?" Hill asked.
"Too much of a coincidence if it isn't," Steve replied.
"It could be a potential buyer staking out the place," Romanoff added.
"What do you want to do Rogers?" Hill asked.
"If we can, taking them in is too good an opportunity to miss, regardless of if they are Hydra or the buyer, they are going to have information. However, if they suddenly go missing, then Hydra is going to know something is up," Steve answered.
"Not if we turn them over to the Intelligence Unit once we have finished questioning them. Impersonating police officers is an offence. Add in the fake patrol car, and they should be able to hold them for a while. Have it leaked through the channels that they have had to arrest them," Romanoff suggested.
"That could work especially if they are committing a crime while impersonating an officer of the law," Hill said, "Have it look like nothing more than a simple arrest, and it gives a reason why they have disappeared for a while."
"And it potentially ties them up with the whole process for a few days if not longer," Steve finished.
Holly half-listened to them, ideas whirling around in her mind how they could apprehend whoever was in the car, should Steve decide that was the route they were taking.
Only one came to mind that would necessarily avoid bullets flying through the air.
Possibly.
Maybe.
"I might have an idea," Holly said, glancing towards Steve. His attention snapped to her as soon as the words left her mouth, "It isn't brilliant, but it should work and if it does it will distract them long enough that it shouldn't turn into a full-blown gunfight."
"Go on Potter," Hill prompted.
"I distract them," she said slowly, Steve's eyes narrowed slightly, but he stayed silent as she continued, laying out the plan.
She would approach them, asking them for assistance as she was having car problems and Holly knew nothing about cars to make that believable, so long as she put on a good enough show, it would work.
Silence followed.
"It was either that, or I attempted to pull of being a prostitute but I'm not sure they would be blazon enough to approach a marked patrol car," she added with a smile, to ease the growing tension filling the car.
"It would work," Romanoff agreed, breaking the silence. "It's the best we have that doesn't involve a gunfight in the middle of a street. Hydra would recognise the rest of you, Potter is an unknown face."
Holly wasn't sure what to make of Romanoff agreeing with her, but then she had no doubt it Romanoff was here, then she would have offered to play bait. It was a move she would make.
"It's risky," Bucky pointed out.
"It is, but I know the three of you will have my back. We need to decide what we are doing soon," Holly agreed.
"I couldn't ask you to do that," Steve said, his eyes never left her face. Holly couldn't read what emotions were crossing them, but from the bubbling heat that was currently pressing against her skin from the bonds she wasn't sure she wanted to.
"You aren't asking, it was my idea," she countered, her voice strong and confident. Holly was used to these situations, she knew what she was doing, even if the others didn't know the true extent of her skills.
But it was that confidence, that determination that she was pushing to the surface. Showing exactly how calm she was.
There was a pause and Holly could see Steve was weighing the plan up looking at the pros and cons, assessing all angles, turning all scenarios over until he finally nodded.
"Okay, here is what we are going to do. Bucky, there is a sniper rifle in the back of the SUV, pick a vantage point," Steve started, "I want them in line of sight at all times, but I also want you to be on the lookout for any sign that there is more than just the two of them."
"Affirmative," Bucky hummed in agreement.
Steve continued, "Holly, you need to focus on getting one of them out of the car."
Holly nodded her head to show her understanding but refrained from commenting.
There wasn't a need.
"Sam, you will need to detain whoever is in the car, and I will take out the one that is with Holly."
"Romanoff and Barton are leaving the Tower now, ETA twenty-five minutes, all being well," Hill added.
"We will be switching to Comms now, on channel two," Steve answered, as he opened another compartment and pulled out a small box.
He opened the box, passing it to Holly once he had removed his own Comms piece.
Holly placed the small device in her ear, noise bursting to life as soon as she activated it.
She wasn't sure how people didn't find them distracting.
Pushing Steve's jacket aside, Holly took off her own coat, followed closely by the three-quarter length sleeved shirt revealing a black lacy cami-top that left her back almost bare.
She undid her braid, ran her fingers through her hair, letting the waves fall naturally around her face before adding a touch up to her red lipstick.
It was by no means a seductive look, but Holly knew she had the figure and the assets that if used correctly, could distract successfully regardless of what she was wearing.
Besides sexy was all about confidence and Holly knew how to fake that by the bucket loads.
Steve was watching her closely, his eyes narrowed and lingered a second or two longer over her scars on her arms.
"What?"
"You're going to be cold," he coughed, his gaze darting around to look anywhere but at her.
Holly flashed him a smile, "Best not leave me in the cold for too long then."
They waited until both Bucky and Sam gave the okay that they were in position. Steve carefully moved his seat back, allowing her the room to shuffle over to the driver's side, so she could look like the driver.
It was a tangle of arms and legs, where his hands ended up on her waist, her knee dangerously close to somewhere delicate, and a hyperaware second as gazes locked, and the realisation that she was straddling Captain America dawned on her.
Her breath hitched as it caught in her throat as her eyes zoned in on the shape of his lips; lips that Ginny would have definitely declared kissable.
Holly pushed the thought from her mind, bringing her focus back onto the task in hand as she turned, until she was sitting on his lap, and opened the car door.
"Try and get him on the passenger's side," he whispered to her.
Holly was only eighty per cent certain that the shiver that ran down the length of her spine was due to the cold air hitting her skin, and not the caress of Steve's breath on her neck.
Holly nodded, bringing her focus back onto the task at hand.
Now was not the time to get distracted over silly things.
Carefully she slid out of the car as smoothly as possible, hiding the fact that there was someone else sitting in the driver's seat.
With the barest of flicks of her wand she non-verbally cast a spell on one of the wheels on the passenger side, an illusion settling over it showing that it was a flat tyre.
Subtle, discreet. Just the way she liked it.
She had gotten good at being able to cast with minimal movement when she needed to, and when that didn't work, her wand, was almost undetectable by muggles.
As modern technology had advanced, the Wizarding World had had to adapt to keep one step ahead.
Holly didn't close the door properly as she stepped away, allowing Steve to slip out unseen when she had whoever was in the car distracted.
Holly turned towards the patrol car and strode forward, a confident swagger to her hips with every step she took, a slow smile spread across her lips.
There was two of them, dressed the part that had Jarvis not already confirmed there were no patrol cars in the area, she would have fallen for it in a second.
But then Hydra had spent the last seventy years hiding in plain sight, they knew how to blend into the world around them.
The driver's window rolled down, and two sets of cold eyes turned to face.
"Evening, Officers," she said sweetly, "I wonder if you could help me."
They shared a look between each other, and Holly couldn't read a single thing that passed between them.
It was bad guys 101, unreadable expressions.
"What is the problem, Ms?" the driver asked slowly, as he turned back to her, he had a square jaw and a scar that grazed his left cheek.
They had decided to play the part, rather than shoot her in the head. Point to her.
Holly let her smile widen a fraction, her eyes widening and she leant a little closer to the car, adding just enough teasing note to her voice that it came across as flirty.
She had a feeling that a complete damsel in distress routine wouldn't work on them, but flirting, that couldn't hurt.
"My car has a flat, I've called roadside assistance, but that was over an hour ago," she paused, let her eyes roam over the two of them slowly, mentally noting the weapons they each had while giving the impression she was checking them both out.
Her smile got a little brighter.
Tilting her head to the side, Holly continued, "They have yet to turn up."
"Flat tyre?" he asked.
"I think so," she nodded.
"You don't know how to change a tyre?"
They shared another look between them, Holly couldn't determine whether they were buying her story or not.
She leant forward just right, letting them both get a flash of her cleavage and the hint of red under the black lacy top.
Hard faced Hydra agents or not, they looked.
She met the drivers gaze with her own as he slowly trailed back up to her face. There was a glint in his eyes that she recognised as a spark of interest that shone when someone saw somebody they found physically attractive.
Holly smiled coyly in response to that spark, looked down for a second, before looking back up to meet his eyes again, letting a hint of her own interest shine through.
No matter how fake that interest was.
"I've never had anyone teach me," she said with honey-laced words, nibbling at her bottom lip. "I guess I still have a lot to learn... with the right teacher."
He smiled slowly at her, the glint magnified.
"You need the right teacher?"
"Uh-huh," she nodded, "So Officer, are you going to teach me how to change a tyre?"
He chuckled, "I think I can spare some time to teach you how to change a tyre."
"Gibbs!" his partner hissed.
"It will be fine, what the boss won't know can't hurt," Gibbs assured.
Holly let her smile widen a fraction as she stepped back, "I really appreciate your help, Officer Gibbs."
"Protect and serve, Ms."
"Duties you take seriously?"
"Very."
"Where would we be without people like you," Holly said sweetly.
Gibbs opened the car door and stepped out. He towered over her, but Holly didn't let her smile falter for a second.
Tall, muscular, armed and dangerous.
He seemed to favour his left side more than his right, which Holly made a mental note of.
"I have him in my sight," Bucky assured over the Comms. The three of them had been silent while she had laid on the charms that she had forgotten that they would have heard every word she said.
Inwardly Holly cringed, she had laid it on a bit thick.
Gibbs followed behind her as she led him to the front tyre on the passenger's side. She could feel his gaze lingering on her skin and she shivered, partly from cold and partly from the fact she really wanted to smack the guy in the face.
He knelt down next to the tyre, it looked flat, but he would know it wasn't the moment he touched it.
"This isn't flat!" he looked up at her, his eyes narrowing and cold fury lighting them up.
"Opps, my bad." Holly shrugged, "I really don't know cars."
Gibbs lunged at her.
Holly kicked out as hard as she could.
The angle was awkward, and while she made contact with him, he managed to push forward, grabbing her leg and pulling her down hard.
Holly stumbled into him.
She itched for her wand in her hand, pushed the need aside and opted instead for her a knee to his nose as she crashed into him.
"Bitch," his hissed at her as he let go of her leg.
Holly scrambled back, reaching for a knife sheathed at her back.
She needn't have bothered, Steve was there in a blink of an eye, arm wrapped around Gibbs' neck locking him into a chokehold until his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went down.
"Are you okay?" Steve asked, concern lacing his words as he straightened himself, Gibbs unconscious at his feet.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Holly confirmed, putting her knife back into its sheath.
A glance towards the car showed that Sam had the passenger subdued.
"Do you recognise them?"
Steve nodded his head, "The passenger in the car is, West, he was STRIKE I worked with him a few times at the Triskelion."
Steve looked down at Gibbs, "Him, not so much."
"Gibbs, that's what West called him," Holly supplied.
"Jarvis will run the name through the system, along with a facial scan, see if anything comes up."
"Are we waiting for the others?" Holly asked, glancing around the street, so far there little confrontation had gone unnoticed, or at least it seemed that way.
"Natasha and Clint will be here in a few minutes. They can take them back to the Tower, and one of us will drive the patrol car," Steve confirmed.
They didn't have to wait long for them.
Holly was leaning against the SUV when they pulled up; her shirt and jacket thankfully back on and zipped up high, while she watched over the 'dead to the world' form of Gibbs.
His hands were zip tied, and she had stripped him of all his weapons and laid them on the back seat of the SUV. Steve was currently helping Sam move the passenger out of the patrol car, as Bucky made his way across the street towards her.
Sniper rifle secured to his back.
He didn't ask her if she was okay as he drew level and she was grateful for that. His eyes scanned her from head to toe with assessing scrutiny she had no doubt that if the slightest thing had been out of place, he would have noticed.
Instead, he silently moved to the side of her, leant back against the vehicle himself and scanned the street.
"You don't know how to change a flat?" he asked his tone light and teasing as he broke the silence.
"Don't hold it against me, but my knowledge of cars consists of them getting me from A to B and ensuring that they have petrol...gas in them," she answered.
His lips twitched slightly upwards.
Holly turned to look at him, he was looking at her. There was a mischievous light in his eyes.
A playful glint, a dangerous glint.
"I guess you need the right teacher," he added.
The response came easy to her, the words out of her mouth before her brain could catch up. Because she knew he was teasing her and Holly was never one to back down.
She didn't know how to back down.
"Are you the right teacher?"
Their gazes locked and something shifted between them, his eyes drew her in until she was tethering on the edge, one false move and she would fall.
At that moment, Holly wasn't convinced that falling would be a bad thing.
Her pace quickened.
She licked her lips and tried to breathe.
The bond vibrated between them.
"That is something you would need to find out for yourself," he dared.
"And if I wanted to find out for myself?"
His eyes darkened, and Holly could have sworn she saw something flash in them though she wasn't certain she could distinguish one thought over the other.
Desire? Want? Need?
Her breath hitched, catching at the back of her throat.
"Careful Hols," he breathed, holding her gaze for a moment longer, "You need to remember how to breathe."
He said it low, soft and a shiver ran up the length of her spine.
He shifted his gaze to look up at the approaching footsteps.
Holly remembered to breathe.
The zingy energy that had hung heavily in the air pressing down against her with intensity lifted and common sense caught up with her.
Because she wasn't here for that complication, even if she could admit to herself that Bucky was attractive and there was a spark there.
It was a road she dared not travel, no matter how tempting it may be, because nothing about it would be pure desire, the marks, the bonds complicated everything.
Holly looked up as Steve approached, a firm reminder just how complicated that road would be if she was willing to travel down it.
Pushing the thoughts behind her icy shields and closing the lid on the possibility of giving in to her desire, she straightened, pushing away from the SUV.
"Natasha and Clint are going to take them back to the Tower. I need you to drive the patrol car back to the Tower," Steve said, looking at Bucky, there was a grim determination in his face.
He turned to look at her.
"I'm going to take you back to your apartment for you to get what you need for the week, and then we will meet you at the Tower."
Bucky glanced between the two of them, before moving toward the patrol car. Steve lifted Gibbs up and carried him towards the vehicle Romanoff and Barton were currently shoving the second guy into the back off.
Holly opened the passenger door and slipped inside the SUV, clean up hadn't taken long, and as she waited for Steve to get into the driver's side, she watched the others drive off.
"Are the others taking over the watch?" she asked once Steve slid into the driver's seat.
"Yes, they are already on their way. We have had to move some people about to cover Natasha and Clint's absence, but both locations will have people covering them," he said as he turned the key.
Holly fell silent as the engine thrummed to life.
Neither of them said a word, and if Steve had noticed the exchange that passed between her and Bucky, he chose not to comment.
It had been a lapse of judgement on her part.
One she couldn't afford again.
Holly turned to look out the window as the streets changed, she had the feeling it was going to be a long night.
XXX
Steve gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove through the streets of the city to his destination, bright lights engulfing the city in what looked to be a glowing cage for all to see.
He couldn't remember it being quite so bad back in the 40s, and it had taken some getting used to when he had first woken from the ice. His senses going into overload from the sheer volume of noise, lights and the fact that New York had grown in so many ways.
Even now he didn't like driving at night in a car, much preferred the freedom that his bike offered him, but a bike wouldn't have been practical for a nine-hour stakeout, especially when he wasn't alone for that stakeout.
Not that the stakeout had gone according to plan.
He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Holly sitting next to him, her head turned slightly to watch the world pass them by, his jacket still wrapped around her legs and from the look of it, he noticed she had tucked her feet up under her as well.
He glanced at the footrest; her boots lay on the floor.
It had been Holly's suggested idea that had allowed them to capture the Hydra Agents.
A plan he would have expected from Natasha and had been surprised when Holly had suggested it. Had been even more surprised at how easily Holly had slipped into the proposed role, how easily the right words had left her lips.
He was used to working with people who used subterfuge as one of their chosen weapons, he had worked alongside spies and still did to a degree. Natasha lived and breathed that world, a world of espionage and subterfuge.
And it was a weapon Holly appeared to have in her arsenal.
Not as refined as Natasha, not as sharp, but still sharp enough to cut and deadly enough to lead the unwary to their doom.
Steve found himself thinking once again about how little they knew about Holly Potter.
It was an uncomfortable thought, but Steve wasn't one of the unwary, and as much as he hated the world of espionage he had learned enough from working for SHIELD to pick up on the signs that someone was hiding.
Hell, Natasha hid more of herself that he wasn't sure he would ever be able to unravel the layers that made up the spy, but he trusted her.
He more than trusted her.
Steve had no idea if he could or even should trust Holly.
But he knew without question she was hiding a lot about herself.
A part of him knew he couldn't fault her for that just as much as a part of him warred with the possibility she was still a threat to them.
Steve didn't know what to think about Holly.
He had learnt little bits of information she had clearly deemed safe to share in the game they had played, but he was still no closer to learning any truth that was beyond the surface to who she was.
And he wasn't sure whether he should dare to let himself get close enough to find out more, or allow her close enough to find things out about him that she could use against him, should she be the enemy.
Yet something tugged at his core and niggled at his mind.
She may be a danger, but it was also clear she needed help.
Both thoughts warred inside him, a voice saying he needed to be cautious and another saying he needed to do what he could to help.
Finding no absolution, Steve pushed the thoughts aside and turned his attention back onto the road.
The sooner they got to Holly's apartment, the sooner he would be able to get back to the Tower and oversee the interrogation. Not that he would be leading, but Steve needed to be there.
Needed to hear what West and Gibbs said.
"It's the next right," Holly said suddenly, breaking the silence.
He glanced at her.
"My apartment, it's the next right."
He frowned.
"How much do you know about Hell's Kitchen?"
"That it's reasonably priced at the moment for large apartments. The neighbourhood got hit pretty badly in the Invasion from what my landlord said."
"Crime has spiked in the last two years as well," he noted, as they passed apartment buildings that looked to be half-ruined and falling apart.
He wasn't sure why it bothered him, the idea of her living here, but it did.
"Nowhere's perfect." She shrugged. "Though we do have our own vigilante."
His head snapped to hers, "Excuse me?"
"Some guy in a hooded mask seems to be running rings around the criminal gangs around here. Surprised you haven't heard of him since I'm pretty sure the cops here are blaming you guys for him."
He blinked in surprise, "Blaming us?"
"Well, not in so many words, but it's in the undertone, reading between the lines. Since the invasion and people put on costumes other crazies are coming out of the woodwork thinking they are something special," Holly answered.
Steve frowned, "Is it our fault?"
"Of course, it isn't. Not saying that you don't have people being inspired by you guys, wanting to be a hero, which isn't a bad thing," Holly replied, "But putting yourself out there makes you a target for every bad thing that goes wrong. A scapegoat. The world expects you to be perfect, they don't realise that perfect is an illusion."
"Is he a danger to anyone, the vigilante?" he asked, as he pulled the car to a stop.
"Only if you are a criminal, and even then from what I can see and from what is being reported, it doesn't appear to be the common criminals he's going after. Its organised crime he seems to be targeting," Holly replied as she busied herself with slipping her boots back on. "I tell you what, you looking at the buyers for the Chitauri weapons Hell's Kitchen is full of potential buyers."
"Why exactly do you live here?"
Holly smiled at him, "Dirt cheap."
"How exactly do you know this?" His eyes narrowed as he looked at her.
"Know thy enemy. It pays to keep an ear to the ground, work out when a shit-storm is about to hit. Besides, it never hurts to have information."
"Unless you come to the attention of the wrong people by getting that information." He gave her a pointed look.
"I'm a big girl. You can come up if you want, I won't be long if you don't want to," she said as she opened the car door and slipped out.
Steve watched her for a second before he unbuckled his seatbelt and slipped out of the driver's side. His eyes sweeping the area for any potential threats, frowning as he spotted a group gathered around the steps to the front entrance of the building Holly was walking towards.
They watched her with hungry eyes, and from where he was standing, he could see that at least three of them were armed.
Steve locked the car and moved around to follow her. She may have stated she wasn't going to be long, but he wasn't going to let her struggle with her bags if he could help.
"Yo, Your Majesty, where you been?" one of the guys greeted. Steve fixed his gaze onto him, as he fell in behind Holly. He was tall, skinny, though Steve supposed that could be down to the fact he was wearing loose baggy clothes that seemed to be in fashion with some people. He had multi-coloured hair and dark brown eyes.
He was aware that the others in the group straightened slightly as they eyed him up. He tensed, ready and waiting.
"All over, Jared, all over. How's your mother?" Holly replied, pausing in her step.
"Doin' better, that tonic you gave her worked a treat, cleared up her chest infection better anythin' we've tried before."
"Happy to help. Staying out of trouble?" Steve noted the piercing look she threw at Jared.
"You know me, Your Majesty, I'm always stayin' out of trouble," Jared said, shifting on his feet.
"Uh-huh," Holly hummed, "Let me know if your mother's chest infection comes back, and stay out of trouble; otherwise I will tell your mother the next time I have to come and bail you out."
"Aww, that's playin' dirty."
"I always play dirty Jared," Holly sniped before she continued up the steps to the front door.
"Hey, aren't you, Captain America?" Jared asked, turning his brown eyes onto him.
Steve hesitated.
Holly stepped down and grabbed hold of his hand, which caused Steve to blink in surprise, as a zing zapped between them the moment they touched.
"I will keep your secret Jared, you stay quiet about this. And I expect that from the rest of you."
"Sure, Your Majesty, can we have an autograph though, just wanna say I met Captain America."
"Jared," Holly warned, before looking up at him, her green eyes filled with more understanding than he expected to see, along with a clear message saying he didn't have to if he didn't want to.
Steve always felt...unworthy of the attention he received from the general public and was often surprised when people recognised him. It left Steve uncertain about how to act. He didn't see himself as a hero; he just did the right thing, because it wasn't in his nature to walk away from a fight when he could do something about it.
"Um, sure."
Holly let go of his hand and waited while Jared produced a pen from somewhere and got him to sign the arm of his jacket.
"Sorry," Holly said softly after he was able to untangle himself from Jared and the others, the entrance door shutting quietly behind them.
"It's okay. I never get used it, but they actually asked," Steve replied.
"One of the prices of being a hero. You never really belong to yourself anymore."
Steve locked gazes with her, the understanding was there again clear to see, and he couldn't help but wonder what had made her understand something that most people didn't.
The others understood.
Tony had understood the longest, knew the feeling longer than any of them. And while he gave the impression of enjoying it, Steve could see the times when it strained even him.
It had been so strange to wake up in this decade to find decades of hero-worship dedicated to him. Strengthened by his role in stopping the Invasion. Everyone had an idea of who he was, without actually really knowing him.
And yet Holly seemed to understand that completely. Understand that it made him uncomfortable and had tried to soften the blow.
"So Jared?"
"He and his mother are my neighbours. He is a good kid, but not the best at making life decisions at the moment."
"Trouble?"
Holly grimaced, "In a manner. His mother is ill, and hospital bills aren't cheap, nor are the medications she needs. He crossed the wrong people trying to earn some easy cash and it landed him in hot water."
"How bad?" He asked as they walked up the stairs.
"A baseball bat to the knees. I intervened, and I dealt with the boss, before getting Jared connected to the foundation I used to work for. They are helping the best they can with the situation, giving him a chance if he is willing to take it."
"Are you in danger?"
"No. I came to an understanding with the people that he pissed off. They don't touch Jared. I didn't tell his mother, because I didn't want to cause more stress to her, and I try and keep an eye out for him when I can."
"His friends were armed."
"Another issue altogether, and something I am powerless to do anything about."
"There is only so much you can do." He knew that feeling of powerlessness. Trying to fix a situation and everything stacked against you.
Holly glanced back at him, "Exactly even if it is frustrating. They aren't with any of the gangs from what I can tell. They tend to just stick with each other," Holly answered, "But there is still that dreaded fear they are going to do something stupid one day."
Steve looked at her, as they climbed the next flight of stairs before she paused between three doors and fished for her keys in her back pocket.
Holly cared about people.
She took the time to see people without judging them at first glance. Some people would have written Jared off from the get-go, just by the what he wore, how he spoke, what he looked like, and where he lived.
Holly had offered aid to Jared when he was being threatened without hesitating, and had not only intervened during the actual attack but had taken it further to deal with the threat head-on.
And from the brief interaction he had witnessed with Jared, he could see that the teenage boy looked up to her with love-sick eyes, something he wasn't sure Holly was even aware of. His friends may have eyed her up in a way teenage boys could do, but Jared clearly had a crush on her.
Holly turned the keys in the lock in the door closest to the stairs and pushed the door open with her side. It resisted a little before finally shifting and Holly was able to push it open.
It wasn't the most secure door in the world.
Steve couldn't help but wonder whether she would resist accepting help in ensuring her apartment was a little more secure.
Holly stepped inside, switching a light on and gave him room to walk through past her, before pushing the door closed behind them.
"I won't be long, just grabbing enough for a week, right?"
"Just till the mission is over. Easier to work shifts out," he answered, following her into the main room, a second light flickering to life.
"Would you like a drink?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
Holly gave him a nod before moving out of the main room down a small hallway to what he only presumed led to her bedroom.
Steve glanced around, turning slightly as his eyes swept over Holly's apartment. It was a large open plan room. The kitchen was to the right, running along the wall that divided the kitchen from the hallway, and followed around in an almost rectangle shape. The kitchen sink positioned under a window.
He noted three grey breakfast bar stools tucked under one of the worktops. The kitchen looked to be a relatively recent addition, and a little out of place for what he assumed one would find in the building that housed it. Jars, containers and various small pots seemed to gather in clusters at various locations on the worktops, but it was clean and tidy.
A dining room table overlooked two more windows, separating the kitchen and the living space.
A sideboard ran along a wall, and two sofas created an L shape around a coffee table over the far side, a TV hanging on the wall.
Overall it was clean, light, spacious and as neutral as one could get.
It also told him nothing about her.
The place looked barely lived in, gave no insight to her personality, and was void of anything remotely personal. There were no photos, no wall art and no trinkets.
Except for one little corner.
Steve moved towards the fireplace. A large black armchair that gave him the impression that it would be the comfiest chair in the world was in front of it, a think dark maroon woollen throw covered one arm. Leaning against the wall within touching distance of the armchair was a bookshelf, full of books.
In Steve's opinion, you could tell a lot about a person from what books they read. As he took a step closer and scanned the titles on the shelves, he could see that Holly had a collective taste that crossed all genres.
Some he recognised, others he didn't.
Steve reached for a book at random and pulled it off the shelf.
The Moon is a Harsh Mistress - Robert A Heinkin.
Steve frowned.
"Have you read it?"
Steve spun on his feet, guilt creeping along the length of his spine, like the time his mother caught him with his hand in the cookie jar when he was only supposed to have one because money was tight and they were a treat.
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologise."
"I haven't read it," he made a move to put it back on the shelf.
"You should read it. It's a good book. An engaging story that makes you feel an array of emotions. It's also one that makes you think, makes you look at the world and ask questions."
He hesitated, before pulling the book to him once again.
"Thank you," he met her gaze and not for the first time he felt as though Holly was peeling back the layers inch by inch.
"It's a nice place you have."
"It's a place to rest my head." She shrugged.
"Is that everything?" He asked with a nod.
Holly gave him a slight smile, "Yep. Apart from the books, my whole life can fit into this bag."
Steve frowned as he looked up from the bag and met her gaze again. The comment and the lack of personal belongings indicated that Holly was more than used to leaving things behind.
"You don't have much?"
"I've never needed much. Besides, I've never settled anywhere long enough in the last few years for personal belongings to be a problem."
"That sounds lonely."
A shrug.
"I am used to being alone."
"What about setting up roots? Having a home?"
Holly looked at him green eyes darkening slightly, "I have a home. It's just not here, after all, they say home is where the heart is, and New York doesn't have my heart."
Steve couldn't stop himself from flinching with that particular statement.
He studied her, but Holly's face was blank, not a single thought or feeling crossing her features, and for the first time, Steve couldn't feel anything battering against his shields.
Emptiness.
He shifted uncomfortably. He knew Holly hadn't meant to be hurtful, she had just said it, said it and meant it, and he shouldn't feel anything by it.
And yet he did.
"Do you ever plan on going back home?"
She smiled; it was a sad smile, one that Steve recognised as resignation, her eyes dulling in a way that he hadn't seen before.
But she didn't answer, and Steve guessed that was an answer in itself, he just wasn't sure he could decipher what the answer was.
"Let me take that off you."
Holly gave him another look, one he couldn't decipher.
"My mother raised me to carry a lady's bag."
"Who am I to argue with your mother," Holly answered, giving him a side look as she passed her bag over.
It hardly weighed anything.
And Steve couldn't help but feel sad about that.
Holly had said she could fit her whole life into that bag and it hardly weighed anything.
He followed her out of the apartment and waited while she locked up before descending the stairs and out of the building towards the car.
Jared and his friends had vanished from the steps, and nobody else was around to notice them leaving, but that didn't stop him from glancing around to double check as he put Holly's bag on the back seat.
Satisfied, Steve slipped into the driver's seat, it shouldn't take them long to reach the Tower, and once there he would be able to observe the interrogation.
And hopefully glean more information about Hydra's plans.
It didn't take them long to reach the tower.
Hill met them at the elevator doors on the levels dedicated to them.
"Romanoff is waiting for you before she starts. I have already contacted Detective Sergeant Lowe and he is sending some of his people over now," Hill greeted them crisply.
Steve nodded, "I will be right down, I just need to show Holly to her room."
"I can do that, Barnes is in the observing room, and it would be best if you were there," Hill added.
Steve caught the strain in her tone, the concern and the sense of urgency that told him more than anything else.
Bucky was close to losing control.
He nodded.
Holly was already reaching for her bag before he could even say anything, clearly hearing the same urgency in Hill's voice as he was.
Their eyes met briefly, and understanding flashed in Holly's eyes before she gave a small nod of her own.
He let her take her bag off him, stepping back into the elevator and pressing the appropriate floors button.
Steve reached for the bond he shared with Bucky, could feel the raging waves of emotions tossing and crashing together.
He sent a pulse of reassurance through the bond, but he had no doubt that amongst the waves, it would be lost.
I'm coming Buck, I'm coming.
XXX
His rage howled.
Ice filled his veins.
Icy swirling darkness grew with every breath he took.
Bucky didn't move.
He dared not.
His eyes firmly fixed on the man sitting behind the two-way mirror.
Rage swirled and thrashed and slashed through him, desperately seeking a way to escape, to unleash itself with a ferocity that none would be able to withstand.
So Bucky stayed perfectly still, gritted his teeth in determination and clawed onto what control he could muster as the Soldier rampaged through him.
Icy knives burrowed deeper with every breath he took.
He waited.
And waited.
Muscles tight.
Jaw clenched.
Not even Steve's presence offered comfort.
The Soldier snarled.
Comfort was not something he wanted.
He wanted to tear and shred and kill the man he was now observing.
West.
Bucky recognised him.
Knew him.
The Soldier did too, but the memories were hazy.
He had been Strike, not a handler but someone who had stood guard, who had chauffeured him to drop off points and collected him.
"You recognise him."
It wasn't a question; Steve had made those three words into a statement that didn't require him to voice the answer.
Bucky voiced one anyway.
"I do."
"Was he..."
He threw Steve a look, stopping that particular question in its tracks.
"He was a driver, not a handler," he said through gritted teeth.
Both of them fell silent, content in watching Natasha take the front in the interrogation.
This was the first time he had come face to face with someone connected to Hydra since the battle at the Triskelion. Since his memories had resurfaced and he had escaped his chains.
Nine months wasn't a long enough time to be free of them.
Everything was stirring, a twisted ball Bucky didn't dare try to untangle tightening around him.
He swallowed slowly.
The Soldier raged.
Kill.
No.
Bucky pushed back against that other presence. He dared not lose control.
He couldn't afford to lose control, yet the Solider was pushing back harder than he had for a while.
KILL!
The Soldier roared.
His control slipped.
He moved before he was even aware he was moving.
His body lunging forward, fist swinging.
Steve reached him just as his metal fist hit the two-way mirror.
The cracking crunch of glass splintering filtered the air.
He zeroed in with narrowed eyes as Natasha, swiftly moved to her feet and reached for West. The man was ushered out of the room before the glass had entirely shattered in a spray of shards.
He was panting.
"Stand down Bucky," Steve growled at him.
He snarled.
Spun swinging.
Steve dodged his flying fist.
Bucky couldn't see.
Not anymore.
Red.
Everything went red.
He should have been an inferno, but it was a cold rage.
A calculating rage that was searching desperately for his target to destroy.
Hands grabbed him, wrestled with him for control.
He struck out, kicked, and punched.
He dodged and slammed.
He would kill him first. He had to kill him first.
He knew what would follow if he failed.
He could smell the blood; he had drawn blood, his or Steve's he couldn't tell.
It didn't matter.
Nothing mattered.
Steve was stopping him from reaching his goal, and that was unacceptable.
"Bucky, I need you to push it down. I need you to push him back," Steve called.
He snarled in response.
But the words reverberated through him like a bells ring.
He wasn't the Soldier.
He wasn't a weapon.
He was Bucky.
Bucky.
It was a whispered word, carrying the scent that belonged to another.
A scent that he recognised.
Warmth rolled across him, engulfing him, comforting pulsing beat of a heartbeat that thrummed through the bonds.
A silvery glow and an image flashed through his mind.
An image he didn't understand couldn't possibly comprehend but looked too much like a stag.
Holly.
Bucky didn't know why, didn't know how he made that leap, that jump for a connection but he knew it was Holly.
And then another.
Another heartbeat that was as familiar as his own heartbeat was.
Steve.
Steve and Holly.
Bucky focused on the bonds, on the heartbeats, on his own steadying to match their rhythm.
They couldn't fight this battle for him, but they could offer support, they could offer strength.
Even Holly who wasn't in the room, Holly, who had never faced the Soldier but was still offering her support, had reached out to him without hesitating.
Bucky breathed.
Bit down and wrestled with that other presence.
There was a roar of fury from within.
Bucky didn't flinch.
He pushed, and pushed and pushed, until the Solider slipped back under the surface, his rage bleeding away until its embers died and all that remained was the warmth shared by Steve and Holly.
Bucky let out a breath.
The tension in his muscles washed away, and he collapsed to his knees, his limbs going limp.
He was shaking.
Beads of sweat lined his forehead.
He felt clammy and a little sick, and even though the warmth was offering comfort, his insides were turbulent.
He was aware of Steve kneeling down next to him, aware of a hand on his shoulder, another touching his chin and lifting it up. His eyes meeting Steve's.
"You haven't had an episode like this for a while."
"No," he croaked.
He could see an array of thoughts crossing Steve's eyes, but Steve didn't voice them.
Instead, he opened his shields a little and the red thread running between them thickened and zinged.
Bucky let his shields drop, and took what Steve offered.
He knew he was selfish. That he usually closed himself off to Steve because he wasn't sure he could walk down that road again with him, but right now Bucky needed what Steve was offering.
Offering without asking for anything in return.
It wasn't fair, but Bucky desperately needed the help.
Bucky let himself rest, let himself relax, let himself draw a little strength from Steve. Not enough to weaken Steve, but enough that he didn't feel so exhausted from the struggle with the Soldier.
"I needed to kill him," he whispered.
"I know," Steve answered his gaze never wavering from him, "It's not been that bad before."
Bucky snorted, "I've not crossed paths with someone from Hydra since DC. I feel that for every step forward I take, I am forced back three more."
"You are too hard on yourself. You are doing better than you think you are, but it will take time Bucky."
"I know," he said, hesitating, "What if it happens again, the night of the shipment. Taking me out on the field, I am a liability, Stevie."
"You are stronger than you think you are Bucky, but I won't force you into the fight if you don't want to."
Steve's lips pressed together tightly, a determined tilt to his head that told Bucky that he meant that last statement...and god help anyone who tried to get him to change his mind. Bucky had seen that tilt more times than he cared to count.
"It doesn't matter what I want, what I am will always drag me back into a fight sooner or later. It will always end in a fight," Bucky said softly, numbness settling over him.
"Go and get some rest Buck, you don't need to watch the rest of the interrogation."
Bucky heeded Steve's words, the borrowed strength didn't give him enough energy to waste arguing. He was tired, and it was days since he had last slept.
He pushed himself to his feet, grateful that he didn't stagger.
He had shown enough weakness as it was, showing more wasn't acceptable.
He turned on his heel to leave the room, aware that Natasha and Sam were hovering in the corridor.
Both of them acknowledged him, but neither of them said anything.
Bucky couldn't stop the twinge of guilt that rippled through him at their disgruntled appearance; Sam sported a cut lip, a shredded top and Natasha looked ruffled.
He kept his head down as he walked past them, heat rising to his face, and a thickness caught his throat as shame crept through him.
He didn't understand why Steve trusted him.
It was a mistake, and one Bucky hoped, no prayed, wouldn't cost him everything.
His feet moved him forward, pushing him through the tower until he found his room on autopilot. He didn't interact with anyone else, and he was grateful for that.
He needed rest, he needed sleep.
He needed so many things, things Bucky couldn't name, but the warmth didn't leave him.
Steve and Holly never left him, never closed the bonds, and kept him engulfed in their strength.
And it was strength.
Holly was strong just as Steve was, but he could see that it was a different kind of strength.
As he closed his eyes, Bucky saw a stag with green eyes curl around him, before sleep took him.
XXX
A fire burned in the middle of the clearing, its flickering light fell over a crowd of silent Death Eaters.
Her heart was throwing itself against her chest. She was ready, ready to die...to save them all.
"I thought she would come," Voldemort said, his voice pressing against her skin, red eyes looking right at her, but not seeing her, "I expected her to come. It seems that I was mistaken."
"You weren't," the words left her lips before she could think about stopping them.
But then it had already happened.
Holly couldn't change it, no matter how much she wished to turn back, to not look...to not see.
Because she knew what happened next.
She knew what followed.
Her stomach churned.
Her pulse raced.
"Is it that time again?" Voldemort asked his lips twisted in a smile, that wasn't really a smile.
Holly frowned, no, that wasn't right, that's not what happened.
Except when it did.
"Time?"
"Come, come, Holly, how many times have we done this now? A hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand? We both know how this ends."
"How does it end?" She asked.
"I kill you...I remake you...I set you on the path."
"No...That's not," Holly started.
Voldemort looked at her, red eyes glistening with amusement.
"I can almost taste it...how close you are."
"You're dead. I killed you..." Holly answered, with a shake of her head.
"You can't kill me. I am forever with you...marked against your skin."
No, no, this wasn't right, this isn't how it happened.
"Shall we begin?"
Holly didn't have a chance to reply, didn't have a chance - she saw his mouth move and a flash of green light and then she was falling...falling, and the darkness consumed her.
...
...
She couldn't move.
Straps holding her down.
Binding her arms, her legs, and her body.
"No, no...no...not happening, no - this isn't real, this isn't real!"
A face hovered above her, blurry, - she could see a white coat, could see a glint of metal in his hands.
Pain.
Pain.
Her flesh sliced open and pulled back.
"This isn't real," Holly whimpered, fear suffocating her.
A knife cut across her...
...Holly bolted up.
The Elder wand in her hand, pointing at nothing as images sped through her mind.
Her heart raced.
Her chest tightened.
Panting she took big gasps of air, forcing her lungs to expand. She felt like she had just gone ten rounds with a giant.
Her entire body was shaking, though she noted her wand wasn't. Her wand was perfectly still.
A nightmare. Just a nightmare.
Except it wasn't, and Holly knew that memories twisted and changed as she relived them over and over...yet they never stayed the same, always changing, always out of sync.
How was it that reliving things always seemed worse than when you actually lived through it?
Her eyes swept over her surroundings, the unfamiliarity of where she was leaving her confused as she breathed through the lingering taint of her nightmare.
Avengers Tower.
Guest Room.
Holly fumbled with her wand as she tucked it back into the wand-holster out of sight. Hill had assured her that Jarvis didn't have cameras in the guest room, but she couldn't risk letting her guard down for a second.
She glanced at the clock to the side of her.
04:35.
She wasn't going to be able to sleep now.
She never could after seeing Voldemort again.
Fuck, Voldemort.
He was dead and buried. He couldn't hurt her.
Except for the memories, for the scars, the - brand on her skin.
His mark.
Forever corrupted, and no matter how many times she had tried to boil the skin off her bones, she hadn't been able to wash away his hands, his mark, his taint.
And then Hydra -
Holly pushed the thought away.
She couldn't think about that.
She didn't have the strength.
Yet it played on her mind because hours ago she had faced Hydra Agents.
Not the faces that plagued her, but Hydra Agents none the less and it had opened a door up inside her that she couldn't now shut.
And not just her if the turbulent waves that had rippled through the bonds were anything to go by.
Bucky's rage had slammed into her as if it were her own.
It had threatened to swallow her whole.
Holly had done what she could to help.
Directing her magic in the only way she knew how to help protect in the most positive way possible.
She wasn't sure it would work but was surprised to find sending a Patronus Charm through the bonds she shared with Bucky rather than externally to protect, was easy.
And it had worked.
At least she thought it had.
Holly wasn't sure and she didn't know anybody she could ask.
But she would take it as a win this once, and if it helped Bucky, then it was a success in her eyes.
She sighed wearily.
Holly shoved the covers off her and got up. Her toes curling as they touched the cold floor.
Her feet softly padded on the floor as she made her way to the chair she had dumped her bag on only a couple of hours before and pulled out a jumper to pull over her top.
The warming charms Mrs Weasley had woven in with the wool as she knitted it, activating the moment it touched her bare skin. Holly smiled sadly as she burrowed her nose into it, reminding her of the Burrow and simpler days, where while there had been blood, violence and death, there had also been warm hugs, smiles and laughter.
Holly dug deeper into her bag, pulling out a small wooden box. She dared not use any more magic than she absolutely had to, but she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep again.
Running her thumb over the front of the box, Holly felt the familiar prick that drew blood and the box opened. Uncomplicated and straightforward blood magic that ensured only she would be able to open it.
Holly lifted the lid.
It carried her emergency supply of potions, only the basics that every Auror was required to carry with them, and it was a habit she had continued doing even now.
Looking at the empty slots, Holly made a mental note to put aside a day for brewing potions when she was back in her apartment. With a shake of her head, she picked up the vial labelled 'Invigoration Draught', popped the cork and took three sips.
It wasn't a long term solution, and by the time it had run through her system, she would crash hard, but three sips would get her through the day with the energy she would need. If not a little more than she would have had she received a full night's sleep.
So long as she slept at the end of its course, she would be fine. She glanced at the Dreamless Sleep Potion bottle as she slid the vial back into its place, and if she took that potion when it was time for her to sleep again then all the better.
At least until she was back in the safety of her own apartment behind her wards.
It was years since she had slept without wards.
The Avengers Tower was safe, but against magical threats it was vulnerable and defenceless.
It made her skin crawl and itch.
Holly sighed.
If she was in her apartment, she would have looked over the files she had, or baked. But she wasn't at her apartment and didn't want to intrude any more than she was already doing.
And while she had the files with her, tucked safely away in the trunk she had shrunken to fit into her bag, she didn't want to risk using more magic to get them.
She had dared not leave anything magical at the apartment when she was going to be absent for some time.
It left her with one option.
Holly slipped on her boots, grabbed her pad and left her room.
She wasn't going to go back to sleep; she may as well make herself useful and monitor the traffic camera's with Jarvis while she wrote her report for Hill.
It didn't take her long to reach the main operations floor, where she nodded in greeting to the two-night staff as she made her way towards the kitchen. Holly made herself a cup of tea before plonking herself down on one of the chairs in front of computer screens in the room she had worked in the day before.
She could write her report while keeping Jarvis company and watch over the security feed.
"Hey Jarvis, fancy some company?" She asked, switching on her Pad. She slid off her boots, tucked her knees up to her chest, so her jumper adjusted in length to cover her feet.
To the untrained eye, it would look as though she was merely stretching her jumper.
"Your company is appreciated, Ms Potter, but not necessary," Jarvis replied.
"Holly, Jarvis, you can call me Holly, and I know it's not necessary, but I couldn't sleep and thought I would make myself useful."
Jarvis hesitated a moment, "Of course...Holly."
The A.I pulled up the traffic cameras without her asking onto the screens in front of her.
"Thanks, Jarvis."
Holly took a sip of her tea as she settled herself down, watching the screens in front of her half-heartedly as she started to type out her report.
She wasn't sure why Hill wanted a written report, but the woman had asked, and Holly wasn't going to argue with the request. Not when she still needed this job.
Besides she needed something to occupy her.
"Holly?"
Holly glanced up at the sound of her name, her eyes darting to the door where Bucky stood, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest.
A quick glance told her he was exhausted.
His face looked drawn and pale.
"Uh, hi," Holly said softly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would make myself useful."
Her tongue wetted her bottom lip as she glanced at him, he had managed to sneak up on her again, not even the bonds alerting her to his presence, but the moment her mind turned to them, she could feel him.
A tiny flame burning away inside of her chest, glowing and pulsing to the rhythm of her heartbeat, as concern washed through her and a heavy darkness she couldn't begin to unravel.
"You didn't disturb me. I don't sleep much but when I do it isn't pleasant. I thought I felt -" he trailed off, looking at her intently as his brow drew tightly into a frown. "Are you okay?"
Holly licked her lips, her thumb running up and down her mug. How could she possibly answer that?
She could see the concern in his expression, the tightness in his eyes as he watched her closely, and the downturn of his lips pressed together.
Guilt gnawed at her, her nightmare hadn't just disturbed her, but it had bothered Bucky as well. She could see the tiredness on his face; despite the fact he tried to hide it.
He needed to rest, to sleep but maybe her nightmares hadn't all been hers.
And wasn't that a disturbing thought.
"Are you?" she countered.
Holly caught the grimace that crossed Bucky's face before he hid it quickly.
"The shields are weaker at night, aren't they?" Holly asked. She knew the answer, though; she had been more vulnerable to Riddle when she had slept.
Bucky didn't answer and that in itself was all the answer she needed.
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologise, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Some nights are worse than others."
Bucky moved to the empty seat next to her and sat down.
Neither of them said anything, content to sit in silence and Holly could admit she found it oddly comforting.
Not being alone after a nightmare.
She waited a few moments, to make sure that Bucky didn't want to talk, and if he did, he wasn't willing to make a move yet, before she continued to write the report.
Holly was aware of him, just as she was aware of the soft hum of the screens around her, but she didn't stare at him.
The last thing she wanted to do was making him uncomfortable.
"It is the quiet," Bucky said softly as he turned to look at her. The drawn look on his face was one of anguish and it made her heart clench tightly because she understood what he was saying and what he wasn't.
"It makes the memories louder," Holly confirmed, "Nothing left to distract you, so all you can do is replay, over and over again."
His lips twitched slightly.
"I see their faces. All of them, every time I shut my eyes."
"So you stay awake, for as long as you can."
"Pretty much," he agreed.
"I usually bake," Holly admitted, "When I can't sleep."
"Why?"
"Because it's methodical. Don't get me wrong, it can be creative and beautiful, but following a recipe is methodical. Even if the recipe is from memory," Holly replied, "Each ingredient is a step in the process, a step in the right direction to making something out of nothing I guess."
Holly continued, meeting Bucky's eyes with her own, "I find it relaxing."
He was watching her closely.
"Come on."
Holly frowned, "Where are we going?"
He smiled at her, softening his eyes, "Follow me."
He offered her his hand, and Holly found herself taking it. Bucky allowed her the seconds it took for her to slip her boots back on before he was tugging her out of her chair and onto the main operations floor and towards the lift.
The lift took them to the penthouse. Holly turned to look at Bucky, the question unspoken between them, but it was there hanging in the air. Bucky acknowledged it with another small smile and amusement danced in his eyes before he led her out of the lift.
It was eerily quiet.
Soft light flicking too attention with every step they took further onto the floor. Holly couldn't see any signs of the others and had no doubt that they were still busy with the Hydra agents, or sleeping.
"Bucky," Holly said softly.
"You said you would bake if you were at your apartment."
"I said I bake when I can't sleep," Holly corrected.
"Well, we have ingredients, and a large kitchen and I can assure you that whatever you make, will get eaten."
Holly eyed the kitchen, a jolt of eagerness shooting through her.
She did find baking relaxing.
"I don't want to be any trouble," Holly breathed.
Bucky stepped closer to her, Holly could feel him.
She leaned into him, into his heat almost instinctively, and breathed.
His scent filling her nose, wholly masculine and Bucky with a hint of ozone and sea. It was comforting in a way Holly wasn't prepared to explore or think about.
But nor did she move.
They simply stood there, both of them breathing in tune to the other, standing as close as either of them dared without physically touching, yet close enough that Holly could feel the heat radiating from his body.
He looked at her.
She looked up at him.
Their gazes locking, holding.
The look in Bucky's eyes was flickering, searching and things she couldn't read yet at that moment Holly knew it was solely for her.
She breathed.
His chest rose.
"You aren't any trouble," he said gently, "Show me how baking is relaxing."
There was a hint of pleading in his words, desperation that Bucky wouldn't say aloud, but it was there never the less.
He wanted.
No, he needed, something to focus on other than the lingering taint of his demons.
Holly nodded, she could give him that.
She couldn't give him much, but she could give him that.
"What do you want to bake?"
"I don't know," he replied slowly.
Holly paused, thinking through a list of recipes. She had no idea what ingredients the kitchen stocked, and until she did, she couldn't rightly suggest anything.
She moved towards the kitchen and opened cupboards, Bucky followed her, watching her every move.
The cupboards had more than she expected. More than the basics.
She could make Muffins, Danishes, Cinnamon rolls, Treacle tart, even an Apple pie.
She turned to look at him, a smile gracing her lips.
"Treacle tart? It is one of my favourite sweets. And I can make Muffins, Cinnamon rolls, Danishes, and an Apple pie. You can try them all, see what you actually like."
He returned her smile with one of his own and stepped closer.
They started on the treacle tart first, after washing their hands, simply because the pastry needed to chill in the fridge for a while.
Bucky gathered the tools needed, while Holly gathered the ingredients, making a mental note of everything she used so she would be able to replace it.
Holly recited the instructions as she passed Bucky the ingredients that were needed, watching as he sieved the flour and salt into a large bowl.
"Pre-warning, this is going to involve getting your hands dirty," Holly warned.
"How dirty are we talking about?"
"More messy than dirty to be honest, but once you add the butter in you need to rub it all together with your fingers into a fine breadcrumb texture. You can use a food processor - but I have always found this part relaxing," Holly answered.
"My hands have been covered in worse in the past."
Holly reached for his metal arm, her fingers lacing with his as he added the butter to the bowl.
He stilled.
"It may have started out for the purpose to be used as a weapon, but it can be used to create, and it can be used to bake," Holly said tenderly. Using her hand, she guided his in rubbing the ingredients together, before pulling back and allowing him to continue breaking them into fine breadcrumbs.
Together they added the remaining ingredients, Holly adding the egg yolks and water while Bucky mixed swiftly.
"How long have you liked baking?"
"I hated it when I was a kid, though I think that was more down to the fact that it was usually forced on me."
"Forced on you how?" Bucky asked with a frown as he formed the pastry into a ball and warped it before putting it into the fridge to chill.
"It was one of my designated chores when I lived with my aunt and uncle," she answered slowly, moving onto the peeling the apples for the apple pie, while Bucky cleaned his bowl before starting the process again for making the next batch of pastry for the apple pie.
"But I think I started to enjoy it properly when I was about seventeen, eighteen. But by then, I was doing it just for me."
"Did you have many chores growing up?"
Holly snorted, "I had a long list every damn day until I was eleven. Then I went to boarding school."
"Why...why were you living with your Aunt and Uncle?"
Her breath caught slightly, but Holly forced herself to carry on.
"I'm sorry that was insensitive of me," Bucky said, watching her closely.
"No, it's okay. It's ironic really, I'm used to people around me know what happened to my parents. At least in my boarding school. My family was an old family name, and the boarding school was exclusive, everyone knew what happened to my family before I did."
Bucky frowned, "I don't..."
Holly gave him a sad smile, "My parents were murdered, when I was a baby. My Aunt and Uncle didn't tell me what really happened until I was eleven, and even then, their hand was forced."
"What happened?"
Holly looked up in surprise at the sound of Steve's voice; even Bucky appeared to not have noticed Steve's approach.
Steve grimaced, "Sorry, I didn't mean to -" he trailed off.
"No, it's okay," Holly said, inwardly cursing her own stupidity for not being aware of what was happening around her. "There was a man who believed the old bloodlines were better than new bloodlines. My family was an old bloodline, and my mother was new, she married into the family. They stood against everything he stood for, and he set out to make an example of them."
An oversimplification, but the best Holly could do.
"He killed them."
"Yeah, it's where I got the lightning bolt scar from. I survived when my parents didn't."
"What happened to him?" Bucky asked, his voice cold and dangerous.
"He died," Holly replied, her throat tightening. It was just her luck that not only had Voldemort plagued her nightmares tonight, but also in waking she was referring to him as well. Delving into her past, a road she didn't want to travel down.
Not again.
"I'm sorry," Bucky said softly as if sensing her mood. "I shouldn't have asked."
"I was only a baby, not having my parents alive is something I accepted a long time ago, and you didn't know," Holly answered nonchalantly. "You couldn't have known."
She glanced back down at the apple in her hands, carefully chopping it into smaller pieces and adding it to the pan of boiling water so it could stew.
She was aware that both Bucky and Steve were watching her closely, yet neither of them spoke, but even though they didn't say it aloud, she could feel neither of them bought her act.
The silence stretched between them.
It was Steve that broke it first.
"What are you two doing?"
Holly was grateful that the question wasn't asking more about her past.
"Baking would be the obvious answer," Bucky snickered.
"I can see that," Steve said, an eyebrow raised.
"Neither of us could sleep," Holly replied, taking pity on him, "I find baking relaxing and Bucky wanted me to show him."
Something flashed across Steve's face but was quickly gone before she could decipher it.
"You can't sleep?" Holly asked, tilting her head slightly, so she could see both Steve and Bucky.
The two of them shared a look with each other before looking at her. She could see the hesitation in Steve's eyes as if he didn't want to impose but also to a degree wanted to join in.
"I've not tried," Steve admitted, she could see the tiredness in his face.
He didn't voice it aloud that he had been observing the interrogation but Holly knew he had.
From the way Bucky stiffened she wasn't the only one.
She didn't know exactly what had occurred early that had caused the raging storm within Bucky to unleash itself but she could suspect it had something to do with West and Gibbs.
"You any good at making soft dough for Cinnamon rolls?" Holly asked raising her eyebrow.
It was a change of subject and one that both of them appreciated.
Steve smiled slightly, "If you tell me how."
"Alright, Captain, here is what you need to do," she teased, watching in amusement as Steve approached the kitchen counter.
There was enough room for the three of them to work, and Holly relayed instructions to the both of them, helping and showing when she needed to.
It was relaxing, and she could admit even fun, especially when flour ended up across Steve's cheek and Bucky's forehead. The two of them smiling and chuckling in amusement as they teased each other.
Holly couldn't say for certain exactly what was plaguing them all, though she had no doubt that in a way it was all connected to Hydra.
At that moment as the kitchen filled with the scent of sweet treats cooking, and flour flew across at each other, Holly wasn't sure it mattered, she just knew that the lingering taint slipped away and there was a lightness filtering through her and through them.
She smiled at Bucky, "You know covered in flour, you look adorable."
He wiped leftover dough mix on her nose.
"Mature, real mature."
"You will learn pretty quickly, that Bucky isn't mature," Steve chuckled, as he prepared to take a bite out of the apple pie.
The sun had risen, but Holly couldn't say for sure when it had, just that it had.
"Careful the apples aren't too hot, nothing worse than burning your mouth," she warned, cutting the treacle tart into slices and passing one across to Bucky.
Her mouth watered as she picked at some on her fork and took a mouthful, moaning softly to herself.
Though from the looks both Bucky and Steve gave her, she quickly realised it wasn't as quiet as she thought it was.
"That is good," Bucky hummed in agreement, taking his own bite of the treacle tart. "Really good."
"Apple pie is still the best," Steve added.
Bucky reached over and took a forkful of the apple pie, popping it into his mouth before Steve could protest.
"Hey!"
"What, you not going to eat the whole pie," Bucky shrugged.
"I might," Steve chuckled, "I just might."
Holly smiled at them both, they still looked tired, but there didn't appear to be a heaviness pressing down on either of them as there had been before they started baking.
Holly knew their problems, their demons hadn't been forgotten but for the moment, between the three of them, as they enjoyed the home baked goodies, and shared with each other each of the treats, they had found something to ease their burdens just a little.
XXX
The silence stretched across the room as he stared down the man in front of him.
His patience was wearing thin.
Those who knew him best knew to avoid him with a wide breadth and his own men who stood at his back had left enough space between them and him.
But the man in front didn't, he thought he was better than him.
With his fancy suit, and thousand dollar pair of shoes.
He could see the arrogance in his posture, in his eyes and in the sneer that twisted his lips.
He wanted to wipe the sneer off his face.
He didn't.
He waited, his eyes never wavering as he held the man's gaze, like two lions circling each other, searching for a weakness, a chink in the armour that would allow them to attack the other.
All the while they waited.
The man in front wasn't the boss.
The boss was late, was making him wait.
He knew this game well, one he had learnt long ago. Those who thought they held power, who thought they were in control liked to throw their weight around.
They thought it made a point.
In his opinion, it showed him how little power they had.
It was laughable, a joke and if he could, he wouldn't have wasted his time dealing with them.
But they were willing to buy weapons, and they weren't ready to deal with anybody else.
They were late because they were trying to make a point.
It annoyed him, he had a lot of other shit he needed to do this night.
The double doors behind him opened, the familiar footsteps of his second in command thudded as he drew closer.
Brock Rumlow turned his head slightly as Rollins leaned closer to speak softly.
"Are you sure?" he asked, voice dangerously quiet.
Rollins nodded his head in confirmation.
He turned his attention back to the man in front of him growling he said, "This meeting is over. I don't give a fuck about your boss's excuses, we are done here."
The man spluttered, "The weapons -"
"Triple. And that is no longer negotiable."
He didn't wait for a response, he was already out of the door, Rollins close behind him, and the rest of his men filing behind.
"West and Gibbs?"
"That is what the source has said," Rollins confirmed.
"If that little shit is lying I will cut out his liver and feed it to him," he snarled, exiting the building and striding to the van. "Get the boss on the line, now."
XXX
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, my longest yet and one that took me on a different track to how I originally planned it.
As a little holiday treat I can confirm that Thor will be making an appearance in the next chapter.
Exciting times ahead.
