"The answer to your question is the same as the answer to mine." Brooklyn told Steve before powerwalking into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

Brooklyn knew if she stayed in Steve's sights any longer, she'd burst. She didn't want him to get to know her, she wanted him to answer her questions and do what she said. Brooklyn didn't want her conscience getting the better of her because America's Golden Boy thought he was being polite. She didn't want to talk about herself, and she didn't want to banter and flirt with Steve.

She didn't want to flirt with Steve, because she liked him, and she had a precarious set of missions to complete.

Brooklyn heard the front door close and knew Steve was outside again. Brooklyn knew it was as good a time as any to touch base with Pierce, because Fury wouldn't be expecting another call, and there were no cameras in the bathroom. She was thankful the Retreat only had video, and not audio, because then she didn't have to worry about what was said between herself and Captain America.

She lifted her cell phone to her ear, popping the bathroom door open just enough to see if Steve decided to come back in. After three rings, Alexander Pierce answered, "Agent Hayes."

"Secretary Pierce." Brooklyn leaned her waist against the small bathroom sink as she lifted her head to see Steve sitting across the lake in the distance, "I've made it to the Retreat. Our mission is in motion. Captain Rogers is already showing signs of trusting me."

"Good. Get close to him. Become his confidante, let him be yours." Pierce said, and Brooklyn swallowed hard at the idea of opening up to Steve. After a moment of silence, Pierce added, "Perhaps you can convince him not to join SHIELD."

"Sir?"

"If he goes back to a civilian life, he won't be a problem. It's the easiest way to keep tabs on him. As soon as SHIELD gets their claws into him, he'll become a wonderful asset for them. We have to keep that from happening."

Brooklyn nodded, running through ideas before presenting one, "Perhaps it isn't a matter of getting him to avoid SHIELD, but getting SHIELD to pass on him. Even if he says no, Fury won't let him go that easily. But if I find his weakness, I can exploit it and take it to Fury."

"He's Captain America, Agent Hayes, good luck finding a weakness."

"If he doesn't have one, I'll become one." She muttered, smiling wickedly at the idea, "He's lonely, that much is clear. Seducing him will be a red flag, but staying just out of his reach might push him over the edge. I'll keep you posted. Either way, he won't be an issue. I'll make sure of it."

"Good to hear. Be in touch when you can. Good luck, Agent Hayes."

The line clicked and Brooklyn leaned against the doorframe. Her stomach felt sick the more she thought about her own proposal, and what it would mean for the sweet man she was tasked to take care of. Brooklyn knew she could win him over, because he was already open and willing to get to know her. The problem wasn't her ability to get Steve to care for her, it was how guilty she felt planning to lead him on.

Whether or not he realized it, Steve craved companionship, and Brooklyn was setting herself up to be the carrot on the stick that he could never quite reach. She just had to make sure she didn't actually fall for him.

It usually wasn't a problem. Brooklyn was sent in to seduce very bad, very powerful men. It was easy to break someone's heart when they were a terrible person, but Steve wasn't like them. She couldn't just sleep with him, win his trust, then leave him for dead. She had to gain his trust with kindness and patience and give him her time. Then perhaps he'd warm up enough for her to mold him how she wanted him.

Brooklyn finally left the bathroom and looked around at her home for the foreseeable future. Probably three- maybe four-weeks tops. She hoped it wouldn't be much longer than that, or Brooklyn would go crazy sitting inside alone while Steve sketched his life away. At least soon the snow would come and force him inside. Brooklyn needed companionship too.

She spent the next several hours laying on her back, staring at the ceiling considering how to get through to the moody soldier. Finally, her stomach began to growl and she looked at her watch, seeing it was already after seven. She rolled off the couch and looked around the kitchen, deciding to make tacos so she could focus more on conversing than cooking. She grabbed a dirty white apron from a hook and flung open the front door to see Steve still sitting in the same spot he'd been sketching in for the past several hours.

She took a deep breath and yelled, "You hungry?" across the lake as she pulled the apron over her head and began to tie it over her uniform. Steve's head shot up and she yelled again, "What do you want to eat?"

"Whatever you're cookin!" Steve called back as he stood and began walking towards her. Brooklyn was thankful he hadn't made any requests because she didn't think she had the skill to make what he wanted on such short notice.

As he approached, she could see him trying to hold back his laughter, and she instinctively reached for her cheek to make sure she didn't have dirt smeared across her face, "What? Do I have something on my face?" She sighed and felt her skin, finding it smooth and clean, so he was clearly amused by something else.

"Your apron doesn't match your uniform. You look out of place."

Brooklyn huffed, smoothing back her hair and continuing to block the doorway until Steve was just three feet away from her, deafening her senses with the screams in her head at his close proximity, "Well," she started, breathing slowly through her nose as he looked down at her with bright, gentle blue eyes, "there are strict guidelines about assets and their handlers. Especially in the beginning stages." She blinked quickly, then continued, "I was instructed to be as professional as possible, but above else, my job is to make sure you are comfortable."

She'd be more comfortable wrapped in his massive arms while he pounded her into next Tuesday, but instead she was forced to stand in his sights as he considered what she said with a quiet intensity that set Brooklyn's blood on fire, "How many assets have you had before?"

She was caught off guard by the question, blinking her mind back to the reality of where they were and what was happening. "You're my first." She blurted and turned to go back inside, needing to look away, because her cheeks were reddening after the places her mind had wandered to. "I'm very good at undercover work. I assimilate well. I'm great at blending in and becoming part of a crowd." She opened the fridge and stuck her head in it, letting the air cool her cheeks until she could finally look at Steve again. She leaned her neck back, so she could see him, but not totally face him, "I thought that's what you'd need. Someone to help you assimilate." She looked back to the fridge quickly, trying to come up with more to say, "Plus, all the reports said you were nice. I thought you might be a little more… patient with me."

Brooklyn smirked to herself when Steve told her he was worried about her after seeing her in the elevator the day prior. She hadn't known what she was dealing with, but she was glad she'd made an impression.

Steve seemed to be a little anxious as she spoke, so she kept her eyes in the fridge, as if it were the most interesting thing she'd ever looked at. Finally, he asked, "So, are you supposed to wear your uniform when you're around me, Brooklyn?"

"Yeah, it's preferred, at least for a little while-" Brooklyn registered what Steve had said, and her heart began to beat faster in her chest. It hadn't felt real until she heard her name on his lips. She couldn't help but smile as she turned to him, seeing his brow raised, as if asking her if he was right. The longer she waited to respond, the more Steve seemed to fidget, so she finally murmured, "Yeah."

"It's nice. I like it."

Brooklyn saw his whole body relax and realized it was her name that had him so worked up. She snorted as she finally grabbed her ingredients out of the fridge, "It's kinda dorky." She blurted, smiling to herself as she closed the fridge, "At least I got Brooklyn. My sister got Dallas."

Shit.

Brooklyn began to panic when she realized what she'd said. Steve had lulled her into this terrifying sense of calm and trust that she'd told him her biggest secret. She wanted to backtrack and explain Dallas away, but it was too late, Steve was smiling happily and wanting to learn more.

"Dallas? How old is she?"

"Twenty-two." Brooklyn answered, trying to hide her terror.

"How old are you?" Steve asked, and Brooklyn sighed a little as she pulled out a knife and began chopping up tomatoes, glad his attention had drifted away from her sister. "Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"Twenty-six." She answered quickly, not wanting to backpedal onto the subject of her family, "Same as you. Kind of. You were born in 1918?"

"Yeah."

"And you went into the ice in 1945?" Brooklyn asked again, already knowing the answer, but as Steve's smile faded into a pained grimace, she saw he was about to stop asking her questions about her family.

"Yeah. It was March, I believe."

Brooklyn suddenly felt guilty at pushing him, because she realized Steve Rogers wasn't ninety-three, he was the same age as her, only a couple months older. "You never got to your twenty-seventh birthday." Brooklyn murmured as she continued slicing the tomato as small as she could, keeping her gaze away from Steve, "The fourth, right?"

"Of July, yeah."

Brooklyn wondered how Steve would celebrate his birthday. Would he just wait and consider himself twenty-seven next Fourth of July? Or would he celebrate in four months, when his body would see another year of aging after being perfectly preserved in ice? Brooklyn knew she couldn't ask those questions but asking them herself reminded her how traumatic this all had to be for the man.

Their conversation was strained as she began teaching Steve how to cook the taco meat, and Brooklyn wasn't particularly nice when he kept trying to bring up Dallas. He seemed understanding of her shutting down the conversations about her family, but surprisingly, it was when she offered to buy him booze that he cracked.

"I can't get drunk." Steve admitted, and Brooklyn didn't think much of it until he started shaking a little. She noticed his knees wobble and he stopped chopping up the meat. Finally, he threw out his hand to the side and muttered, "I-I need to go for a minute."

Brooklyn grabbed the spatula from his hand, wanting to touch him but knowing he just needed to be alone, "Go. You're okay. Let me know when you need me."

She finished cooking the meat and put a taco together for herself. Brooklyn decided to check on Steve, noting he'd been gone for about ten minutes. She slowly walked over to the bedroom, grabbing the doorknob, and taking a deep breath before calling, "Steve?"

She waited a moment, and when he didn't answer, she cracked open the door to peek inside. She saw him sitting on his ass with his hand over his mouth. There were tear marks on his cheeks, and Brooklyn wanted to offer some sort of comfort, but he gritted his teeth and growled like a wild animal, "Agent Hayes…" She stopped, feeling her spine stiffen at his voice. She forced herself to loosen up and leaned against the doorframe as he snarled, "Leave. Now."

Brooklyn wavered for a moment, wanting to respect his wishes, but knowing she had a job to do. She wasn't afraid of Steve, per se, but she knew if he lost it, she wouldn't stand a chance. Still, Brooklyn needed to show him she was there, and she was strong enough to take whatever he threw at her, "I'm not afraid of you. I'm here to help."

She saw Steve's nostrils flare and his jaw tighten, as if trying to hold himself back from spewing the words he was about to say, "I don't need your help. I don't need anybody's help. I cheated death, and it's so much worse than I could have imagined." When his whole body shook, Brooklyn knew he meant every word, "Get out, and leave me alone."

"Okay." She murmured, forcing a smile that she knew looked too sad, "I'm here when you're ready."

Brooklyn closed the door and leaned against it, looking up at the ceiling and praying that God would give her strength to help Steve Rogers. Nobody ever wrote about Captain America's hot temper, or how terrifying he was when he was angry. Those who saw his fury didn't live to tell about it, Brooklyn supposed.

Still though, Brooklyn wanted to help him. Maybe he just needed a little time.

She grabbed her Captain America book, deciding she needed to give it another once over. Just because she'd read it didn't mean she'd memorized it, and clearly, she didn't know the man like she thought she did. She opened it to the chapter where he arrived in Europe for his USO tour, trying to pinpoint the button she pushed.

Brooklyn read two chapters while eating dinner, then decided to start the fireplace and move to the couch. She curled up in a blanket in front of the flames and read until her eyes began to feel tired. She reached the part where his best friend was killed in action. She couldn't imagine watching her best friend die like that, especially after he'd risked his life to save the man a year prior.

If only Steve knew.

Suddenly, Brooklyn was aware that she wasn't alone. She stiffened and raised her head; glad she'd decided not to change into pajamas. "Steve! Hey… can I-uh, get you something?" She stammered, looking him up and down and wanting him to leave her be until morning.

"I wanted to apologize." He said quickly and Brooklyn closed her book, hiding it under her wrists so he wouldn't realize she was reading about him. He looked incredibly guilty as he shifted from foot to foot, looking at the ground as he spoke, "You've been very patient and kind, and I keep having a hard time. I feel bad, I'm not handling this all well."

Brooklyn smiled a little, taking a deep breath, "Don't feel bad. You haven't dished out anything I can't handle." She wasn't about to have Captain America thinking his handler was fragile. She was quite the opposite. He might make her uneasy, but Brooklyn knew in time, she could make any man puddy in her hand. She swung her legs to the ground, looking up at Steve expectedly as he took a step closer to her.

"May I sit with you for a while?"

Brooklyn felt her heart pound, knowing it was time for her to start chipping away at Steve's cold heart, "Of course."

Sunday night found Brooklyn and Steve in the same spots, him on the floor and her laying across the couch in front of the fire. She flipped through the pages of her romance novel, pretending to read it, but she couldn't focus. She kept replaying her conversation with Steve earlier, when she sat on the cliff overlooking the lake.

"It's nice, right? Worth breaking the rules for?"

Brooklyn had wanted to tell Steve that he was worth breaking the rules for too, but she knew her growing feelings for him were dangerous. She shouldn't feel her heart skip when he said her name, and she shouldn't feel her knees go weak when he smiled at her. Brooklyn was supposed to catch him up on what he missed. She was supposed to train him to be an elite member of SHIELD and an Avenger. She was supposed to keep him out of Hydra's way. Brooklyn wasn't supposed to want Steve, but she did, she was only human.

The idea of fucking Steve silly danced in Brooklyn's mind often, because as much as she knew she had to play hard to get to pique his interest, Brooklyn wanted to climb the super soldier like a tree. She wanted to feel his hands all over her body as he pounded her into ecstasy, then feel his lips leave a trail of kisses from her lips all the way down to her-

Brooklyn arched her back and stretched, accidentally bumping the back of Steve's neck, and waking her from her daydream. "Sorry!"

"It's okay." Steve answered, not even flinching at her touch. She carefully settled back onto the couch as he asked, "Hey, I have something to ask you."

Brooklyn breathed slowly through her mouth, closing her eyes, and steeling her nerves before asking, "What is it?" Steve turned to look over his shoulder and she melted a little at his small smile. Suddenly, he looked away, and told her to forget he said anything.

"No, what it is? You can ask me anything. I might not answer, but you can ask." Brooklyn teased, hoping she could get him to open up to her. He stared ahead, and she felt her breath shake as she began to reach towards his shoulder, stopping inches away, "Steve?"

She heard him take a long breath, then ask, "Would you maybe scratch my neck? Like you did on the way here?"

Brooklyn sighed, and when he turned to look at her she just shrugged and smiled at him, "I think I can do that." She was determined to stay casual, impartial even. Steve would never know how badly she wanted him. She shouldn't even want him. She had to focus on the mission.

"It just helps me-" Brooklyn began to run her fingers along the skin of Steve's neck, causing him to stop talking and lull his head to the side, "relax."

She smiled down at the man as he leaned his back against the couch and pulled her computer farther up his lap to continue his research on what he'd missed. Brooklyn imagined running her fingers along his neck as he cradled her jaw, right before taking her lips and sliding his hand down to her ass to hold her close…

Brooklyn suddenly realized he'd thanked her, and she shook her head quickly to clear her mind, "You're welcome. I don't mind at all." Brooklyn answered as she continued to rake her fingernails over Steve's skin, memorizing the way he felt against her fingertips. She noticed his head began to bob a little, and she leaned over to see his eyes begin to close. "Hey!" She ran her fingers through his thick, shaggy hair roughly, causing him to jolt awake. "If you fall asleep before me, I'm taking the bed and leaving you here on the floor."

Brooklyn was teasing Steve, but as he closed her computer and set it aside, he turned around fully to gaze at the woman, causing the butterflies she despised to flutter in her stomach, "You've spent the past week on the couch. Let me take a turn so you can get a good night's sleep. It's the least I can do after dragging you through the woods for ten miles."

The idea of the bed was tempting, and Brooklyn considered it as she sat up, then realized her mission was to help Steve and make sure he was comfortable, no matter what it meant for her back. Plus, she had no business curling herself up in Steve's bed if it wasn't going to help her mission, "No, you take the bed. I'll be fine."

"I insist." Steve said, then smirked in a way that made Brooklyn's breath catch in her throat, "You can either go now, or I'll wake up in the night and carry you there myself. Either way, you're waking up in the bed."

Only if I'm waking up next to you.

Brooklyn snorted, needing to keep the mood between them light, "But you haven't washed the sheets. What if it stinks like super soldier?"

Oh God, I hope it does.

"Ha, ha. Very funny." Steve teased, "Seriously, Brooke, go." Brooklyn tilted her head at the nickname, having not heard it before, but she didn't mind. Really any variation of her name on Steve's lips was fine. Honestly, he could have called her dump-truck and she'd swoon because he was talking to her.

She hated it with every fiber of her being. She didn't join SHIELD- she didn't join Hydra- to make friends and fall in love. She'd murdered over three dozen men in the past ten years. She'd been fucked by almost half of them in the name of the mission, and she sure as hell wasn't about to lose her cool over this star-spangled clown.

But when he stood, she watched his muscles twitch beneath the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. His sinfully tight, almost see-through, white t-shirt that made her want to shove him in the lake just so she could see him in it wet. Steve reached down and she placed her hands in his, feeling his warm palms envelope her and pull her up with too much strength. She fell against his chest and gasped when her hands landed on his cut abs. "I'm so sorry!" Steve yelped, but Brooklyn couldn't hold back the flighty giggle that escaped her throat.

Her cheeks turned beet red at her reaction, and she scrambled to restore what little dignity she had left. "I knew what I was signing up for when I asked to be Captain America's handler. Occasionally breaking things due to super strength comes along with the territory."

She realized the error in her words when Steve's face dropped and he asked, "Did I break you? I'd never hurt you on purpose-"

"You didn't hurt me. I'm fine. I was just startled." Brooklyn assured the man, reaching out and patting him on the arm before remembering those were as rock hard as his abs. She pointed her thumb over her shoulder towards the bedroom, "You sure you don't want the bed?"

You could join me in bed?

"Naw." Steve answered, and Brooklyn hoped she didn't look disappointed. "For one night it's yours. Plus, then you can actually sleep in something more comfortable."

Steve really didn't like her SHIELD uniform, but Brooklyn wasn't ready to make her running shorts and tank tops a daily occurrence. She'd felt self-conscious enough on their hike, she wasn't about to let him see her booty short pajamas.

"I swear, I won't bother you. You can lock the door to keep me out." Steve promised, still trying to make sure Brooklyn was comfortable. Always trying to make sure Brooklyn was comfortable, no matter what that meant for him.

She grabbed her suitcase and pulled it towards the bedroom, "Honestly, I feel better knowing you can come in if you needed to."

"Night Brooklyn. I'll see you in the morning."

Brooklyn saluted Steve teasingly, then closed the door. She quickly unzipped her uniform, stripping down to her sports bra and underwear to get some cool air on her skin. She pulled back her hair away from her face and fanned herself, realizing how hot she'd become sitting under a blanket in her uniform next to the fire- and Steve.

She pulled off her sports bra and slipped out of her underwear, discarding them on the floor beside the bed as she slipped under the thin sheets. Taking a deep breath, Brooklyn realized it did smell like Steve, and it overwhelmed her senses as she stretched her legs and cuddled against the plush pillows.

She made a mental note to teach Steve how to do laundry in the morning. She knew by the time she woke up, with how aroused she was, his sheets would smell like her. She didn't know if Steve was ready for that quite yet.