A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry this chapter is so short! I did mention I liked to leave stuff on cliffhangers. But! The next few chapters will have plenty of action and hopefully some good surprises. ;) And I'll likely post Chapter 7 a couple days early as an apology.

Thanks for your support! ❤︎

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Krayzee Aussie: Thank you so much!

aromatictruth: Aw, I'm glad I didn't disappoint you too much! And I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!

Bucky and Sam arrived at the scene a few seconds apart. They hadn't been far away from each other to begin with, but they were surprised to find Frank there first. Apparently, even though he'd warned them to not hurry, he'd moved much faster than the other two.

Sam was fiddling with his handheld, which meant he was erasing local security footage. Bucky wondered if he'd be able to figure out how exactly they found Sandy, and if somehow everyone else was compromised. He opened his mouth to ask, but Frank and Sandy emerged before he could say anything.

Frank looked unworried on the surface, but Bucky could tell he was going to have some choice words later. Bucky knew that look. Sam had worn it plenty of times before. Sandy was also trying to look unbothered, though she was trying maybe a little too hard.

"See? Told you I was fine," she grinned.

Bucky watched her walk briskly past them in the direction of their safehouse. He quickly surveyed the havoc she and her attackers had wreaked in the store. She'd been efficient, that was for sure. Maybe a little rough, but it was impressive. Bucky felt a bit better about how she could handle herself.

They definitely needed to keep moving, but Bucky couldn't find the will to move just yet. "I don't see how you've ever blended into a crowd…"

He heard Sam and Frank's amused grunts, followed by a gruff, "Give it time." Apparently they thought he meant something else.

"She's way too chaotic," Sam agreed as they all followed Sandy.

Well, it was best to just let them keep thinking that for now. "And Steve wasn't?" Bucky saw Sam's eyebrows quirk up. "Steve is Chaotic Good at best."

Sam's attention was now riveted on Bucky. "Why are you throwing out D&D references, man?"

Bucky shrugged. "Shuri taught them to me. And how do you know they're D&D?"

Sam was caught. Annoyed, he pursed his lips and looked away from Bucky, who grinned and began following Sandy.

"Okay, boys," she announced. The ambush hadn't taken away any of her usual swagger. "A) I think one of us needs to go get my stuff from the safehouse so I can figure out how they found me. B) My alignment is absolutely Chaotic Neutral. And C) Don't fall in love too fast there, handsome. You ain't seen nothing yet."

"You're just giving her a bigger ego, kid," Frank muttered, looking sideways at Bucky.

"I don't think that's the right word—"

"Sandy." Frank sounded so tired, and Bucky couldn't help but laugh.

"Fine, okay. But seriously who's gonna go back? My tech would make this so much faster, and I could keep them off our trail for sure."

"I got it. Wilson, where's the next safehouse?" Frank asked.

It was a very good thing they already had several places lined up. Whoever Sam's contact was, Bucky appreciated how prepared they'd been.

"I'm gonna miss those bathtubs," Sandy muttered ruefully.

Sam ignored her. "I'll text you the address. It's not far from here."

Frank nodded curtly. "Meet you there in 30." He pointed at Sam, then jerked his thumb towards Sandy. "Keep her out of more trouble, yeah?"

Sandy turned to pout at them. "You guys are no fun." It wasn't the first time she'd said it, and Bucky doubted it would be the last.

The new place wasn't nearly as nice as the last one, but Bucky wasn't complaining. He'd expected something a lot grosser. But it serviced their needs well enough. They'd be fine.

Frank met them at their new hideout exactly 30 minutes later. The guy was punctual, that was for sure. There'd been no sign of intruders, and Frank had been able to grab all of their gear easily enough. They'd really dodged a bullet.

Bucky's assessment of Frank's expression at the grocery store had been spot on. Both he and Sam let Sandy know exactly how frustrated they were with her and how fucking lucky she had been. She tried to ease their anxiety about the whole thing by saying that, at least now, the three of them were still anonymous. Taking out the next warehouses would be easier if they were expecting only her but got the other three instead. It hadn't calmed them down as much as she'd probably wanted.

Everything settled down a little bit more after they'd finally eaten. Sam and Sandy had retreated to their laptops to work on the cameras and make sure they weren't caught. Bucky sat on the couch and worked on cleaning his guns. Frank was doing something in the kitchen; cleaning dishes by the sound of it. Bucky didn't bother to look up. He was still feeling the effects of secondhand embarrassment after watching Sandy get reprimanded, despite how she seemed to still be fine. So he kept himself busy for the time being.

When he felt that his guns were clean enough, Bucky stood and shucked the gun bag over his shoulder. When he looked back up, he found himself abruptly face-to-face with Sandy.

She and Bucky stared at each other for a moment. Bucky was confused as to what brought on this sudden... look she had on her face as she studied him.

"One of us is gonna need a haircut and a dye."

Bucky blinked, attempting to continue looking unfazed. Not at all what he was expecting her to say. Then again, was he really ever prepared for what came out of her mouth? "I don't look good blonde."

"I look good however, so I'm game." She smirked. Bucky didn't like that. "But now I kinda wanna see you blonde, big guy."

Apparently, it was time for Sam to stop eavesdropping and straight up interject himself into the conversation. "He always looks horrible, so I say we get rid of the white Jesus look and make him a full on douchey frat boy."

There was now a very mischievous glint in Sandy's eyes. "Oh yeah! With the frosted tips and everything! Let's go really 90's or early 2000's with this."

Bucky definitely understood that style and he hated it. "Fuck no." He pointedly ignored Sam and continued frowning at Sandy's now gleeful face. "I'm beginning to see why you two get along."

"Sandy, Jesus. Just go cut your hair," came Castle's voice from the kitchen. He sounded like an exasperated mother trying to wrangle in an unruly child. He sounded like that a lot. Which was fair.

"Fine, fine. Guess I'll go pixie cut. See if I can't get some wigs to wear just in case. Oh, and I was thinking maybe I'll go blue this time." Her voice trailed off as she closed the bathroom door.

Bucky put the bag in the corner and joined Sam, who was now scrolling through some articles on the laptop. "What?" Sam asked, not looking up. He seemed too distracted for the usual snark he gave Bucky when he looked over his shoulder.

Squinting down at the screen, Bucky asked a question of his own. "What's a pixie cut?"

Sam's stopped scrolling and very slowly looked up at him. Bucky tried to look as innocent as possible. He knew what it was—one of the things Shuri had taught him was modern hairstyles. She'd said that white people were a trip, and after looking through said styles, Bucky agreed completely. Pixie cuts weren't bad, though. Sam caught the lie and frowned at him. "Go away unless you're going to help."

Bucky crossed his arms. "What do you need help with?" He didn't have anything else to do, really. They were scheduled to hit the next base later that night. Best to strike before they beefed up security too much. And Bucky wasn't ready to take a nap, instead opting to let Frank sprawl out on the couch.

Idle hands are the devil's workshop, as ma used to say.

"Just..." Sam's eyes were suddenly distant. He turned back to the laptop and gestured at the screen. "Research. One of those goons said that the Magnate took offense to the fact Sandy called herself The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. It's stuck with me. Sandy too."

Bucky must not have been paying attention when those two had discussed that. Not surprising. "So you're thinking it's... what?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Right now I'm just looking for anything that might stick out as odd, you know?"

Bucky nodded and began to pace. He racked his brain, trying to see if there was anything useful in there. The Magnate was somehow connected to H.Y.D.R.A., but he couldn't remember if he'd ever seen mention of a Magnate. Then again, he probably wasn't the best person to ask for that. He cast a quick glance at Frank, who wasn't quite asleep yet, as the one-eyed dead man's face rocketed to the forefront of his mind. Bucky looked back at the floor and ignored how sick he suddenly felt.

"Don't think too hard and short circuit, Barnes."

Bucky rolled his eyes. He let his thoughts drift as he went over the day's events. Nothing else they'd said or done stood out... He got so lost in thought that he didn't notice Sandy had reappeared. He almost ran into her when she planted her feet directly in the path of his pacing.

"Jesus," he muttered, taking a few steps back.

"I mean, you do kinda look like him, Sam's right. The white Christian version of him, anyway."

Sam snorted very loudly. Bucky didn't look at him. Best not to encourage that behavior. He studied her face for a moment. That smirk seemed to be almost a permanent part of her expression, and it made it impossible to tell what she was thinking. She tilted her head to the left a little, and it was then that Bucky noticed her hair.

"I thought you were supposed to dye it?" he asked. It was much shorter now, centimeters away from touching the top of her shoulders. But it was still brunette. Still almost the same shade as his own.

She shrugged. "I don't have any dye right now. I'll pick some up later. A cut works for the moment. I think I'm gonna go back to blonde. A little darker than my natural shade, though."

"No pixie cut?"

She seemed impressed he remembered that. "I can do that later if I need to."

"Frosted tips, too?"

Her eyes lit up and she beamed at him. "Nah, not this time." Without missing a beat, she continued in a direction Bucky wasn't really expecting. Again. "Hey, did you kill JFK? That was like alluded to in the H.Y.D.R.A. files but I figured I'd get an answer directly from the source."

Between his initial shock at the question and his confusion as to how exactly he should answer, Bucky swore he could hear Frank's eye roll.

"No," he finally decided on after a short beat.

"Yes," Sam answered at almost the same time, not looking up from his computer.

"Sam," Bucky admonished.

"What? You did. At least that's what you told me."

"Maybe I was lying."

"You've gotten worse at lying if you were ever good at it."

Bucky threw his hands up in defeat. The charade was over with. "God. Fine. Yeah, I did."

Sandy was suddenly much closer to him. "So what's with Lee Harvey Oswald? How come everyone thinks he did it? And how exactly did you frame him?"

I am uncomfortable. "He was a fucking moron. And I don't know the other details. Other H.Y.D.R.A. members took care of the setup. I just shot him. Didn't ask too many questions back then."

Bucky turned his head at the annoyed grunt coming from the couch and found Castle pulling a pillow over his face. He didn't actively say anything, but Sandy seemed to understand what he was thinking. They were consistently surprising him with how well they seemed to know each other.

"Oh, come on, Frank. You can't tell me you've never been curious. You're a sniper yourself."

"Your lack of subtlety sometimes is astonishing."

"Look who's talking."

"You're insufferable."

"Don't use all your big words in one sitting, my dear."

Something in his gut told Bucky to look at Sam.

"Hey...?" Bucky asked, watching Sam carefully. He had wide eyes and was frantically reading and clicking on the screen.

"Guys..." Sam announced. "I think I know who the Magnate is."