February 1941
"Take the left," Peggy whispered to Anya before she ran across to the other wall.
"When you said we'd be storming a village in Italy, I didn't think they'd send only the two of us.", Anya hissed back.
Bullets flew past the two of them, their eyes following it's impact before looking back at each other.
"Bollocks," Peggy muttered, before clicking her gun. "This will be just like Bruges."
"Good Lord," Anya shook her head, clicking her gun also. She gripped its handle tightly. "On three - one, two, three."
The two of them sprung from behind the walls they were hiding, Peggy taking the shots above as Anya shot for the legs, quickly running towards them, ducking them out with a swing of a kick. The two cleared the room as they ran for the marbled stairs, Peggy running up as Anya covered for her - taking out three more.
"When did we set the timer again?" Peggy multitasked between reloading her cartridge.
"In about 15 seconds from now," Anya glanced at her watch.
"Are you sure Stark knows what he's doing with those timers?" Peggy muttered, her back against the door as she eyed the hallway on the opposite side of the room that was their escape route.
"Positive. I cross-checked then anyways." Anya locked a new cartridge into her gun.
"Did you tell base when to get us?" Peggy looked at Anya.
Without flinching, Anya banged the door against an intruder who flopped to the floor immediately with a loud thud.
"Relax Peggy! I've got this under control!"
"This won't be like..."
Before she could finish her sentence, there was a loud explosion that blasted half of the house part.
"Turin...", Peggy looked in awe before sprinting for down the other hallway.
Anya followed beside running, "Turin was an ambush!", she raised her eyebrows.
Peggy was already climbing down from the second-floor window, a fire raging on half the property, as she ran for the truck waiting - "What fun Turin was!"
"Run! Quickly!" the man cried out from the truck.
Anya dropped herself down, sprinting across the yard as her boots crunched under dry clay and pebbles. She tried to propel herself with each step. She could see Peggy's face turn to the house, her eyes suddenly wide and face white.
Anya could hear the whistle of the bullet coming from behind her, as if everything around her slowed down. She tried to reach her arms out to the outreached hand from the truck, barely grasping it.
The bullet came close as her bracelet suddenly became hot, a blue force projecting out as it deflected the bullet, one side throwing her into the truck, with another side suddenly opening like a slit in space as a hand pulled her into it.
Anya dropped on the floor of the truck, Peggy shaking her as she felt her eyes close where she was; her eyes opening to a figure standing over her.
"Anya!", Loki shook her as he held her hand. "Anya! Wake up!"
Her eyes brows furrowed, her face in confused, "Loki?"
She looked around, slowly getting up, "What am I doing here?"
"I thought it would hit you, I saved you."
"Peggy must be so worried," she replied, eyes almost in panic.
"Don't worry about her, I cast an illusion so that she thinks you're still there on the floor unconscious.", he waved his fingers, sitting on a step beneath the tree.
Anya stood, her eyes focused on Loki, "Thank you for saving me, but you need to send me home, Loki."
"But you could stay with me here."
"There is a war going on, and I have my sister back in Midgard. Loki, you know this." Her voice raising.
Loki shook his head, sarcasm in his voice, his smile mocking, "It's always about her isn't it? Your sweet little sister."
Anger coursed through Anya, her voice bitter, "Loki, how can you say it like that? You have a brother. You must understand how it is."
"I'm nothing here, Anya!", Loki shouted. His eyes still, watching her.
"You are loved, Loki," she whispered back.
"You," he pointed to her, "the person I need most won't even be by my side."
"I am always by your side.", she replied.
He shouted louder, "Then who is that man you've been seeing? I see you with him all the time!"
"Howard?" Her face screwed up in rage, "He's a scientist that I work with!"
"Oh really, is that all it is?"
"I'm not having this conversation with you like this, Loki. I appreciate you saving me, but I need to get home and if you won't send me back, then I'll go to Heimdall myself."
He screamed, "Go then! You are just like all the others of your species. Incompetent and unfaithful."
Anya turned on her heels as she sprinted to the Bifrost gate, hot tears coming from her eyes. By the time she arrived to the gate, Heimdall was already awaiting her, bringing her closely into a hug.
"Send me home, Heimdall." she sobbed.
He pulled away, his sturdy hands on her shoulders, "He is misunderstood. Give him time, little one."
Anya closed her eyes, before opening again to see Peggy and a nurse around her.
"Thank Heavens, I thought I had lost you!" Peggy hugged her tightly.
"What happened?", Peggy whispered to her ear, out of earshot from everyone else.
Anya looked down to her bracelet, the rune coin cracked in half on the floor.
"I saw him again," she whispered.
"Who? Who did you see?" Peggy sat down beside her in the corner, the rest of the soldiers in front of them as the truck jumped over uneven road.
"I saw him", she whispered.
"The peculiar boy who comes in your dreams and takes you with some rainbow light?" Peggy replied softly, putting an arm around Anya.
"You knew about the light?"
Peggy nodded, "I saw it one summer back in France when we were younger. You were asleep.", she shrugged. "What did he want?"
"He wanted me to stay with him there.", her voice quiet.
"And do you?"
"No, I've got people to protect here, I've got Christiane and you. He doesn't understand that, he's changed" pinching the bridge of her nose.
Peggy pulled her in tightly for a hug, "Are you going to be alright?"
"As right as rain," she smiled back.
That evening when they arrived back to base, Anya sat after dinner at the mess-hall table, a pen and paper in front of her.
Ma poulette,
How are you? I hope you are well and healthy.
Everything's changed here - towns have been reduced to rubble, there's not enough food to go around, and the cows are everywhere.
I don't know how much longer I can do this, I'm ecstatic to return back to you soon.
Earlier today, I saw Loki again. A bullet was coming for me with maman's bracelet protecting me. Loki somehow pulled me to Asgard. We got in a fight as he wanted me to stay with him but I refused.
He's changed, his intentions now fueled to dominate. I suspect he is doing this out of fear, but I don't know from what or whom. It's been a year since I last saw him.
I've been thinking – we'll be staying in Brooklyn for a while now, maybe you'd want to make the apartment more of a home? Put up the photographs kept away, maybe a carpet? I've already told Howard to bring over the piano in his apartment. He says it's an inconvenience when he's walking around in the middle of the night to get a drink. God knows how that man works.
Loki thought I was going steady with him, but it's not that. Maybe I do have some feelings for Howard, he makes me feel like I can be myself and appreciates me for who I am.
When we were growing up, between Loki and me, it felt like it could go on forever but he's different now. He's filled with rage and jealousy, even over you. I never imagined he would be jealous over you. After those years we didn't see each other, and suddenly saving me out of the blue, I don't understand.
How is school? How is everything with you and Bucky? How are things at the garage? Say hello to Lorenzo for me.
Give my love to Steve and Bucky also.
Be nice to Howard when he delivers this to you.
I love you with all my heart,
Anya
Christiane wiped her oil-stained hands on a cloth. Walking over to Lorenzo's desk, she signed her name and time to end her shift for the evening.
"Grazie Cristiana! (Thank you Christiane!)" Lorenzo waved to her.
"Goodnight Lorenzo! See you on Monday!", she waved back, walking to the bathroom to change out of her jumpsuit.
Christiane adjusted the belt on her skirt, before stepping out to take her coat on the hanger.
"Ciao!", she waved to everyone.
The other men in the garage waved back, almost in unison, "Ciao Bella!"
She buttoned up her coat, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she walked down the street back home. It had become almost routine that on Mondays, Wednesday's and Friday's, Christiane would walk to the garage alone and back home. On Tuesday's and Thursday's however, Bucky was always waiting for her at the station to go home.
Her mind wandered to her homework for the evening: A chapter on Proust and Voltaire.
The sun had already set, casting a fight between the dark blue of rising night, and the fiery orange of the day's past. Her footsteps echoed on the pavement, her boots sturdy on the concrete.
She heard metal clanking and crashing in the alley in front of her.
By God if it wasn't Steve again, she hoped to herself as she ran to the alley, seeing Steve arms up in fists to a man. She pulled up her scarf up to her nose, making her unrecognizable to anyone who didn't know her.
The man went for a swerve of which Steve ducked, moving around him.
"Hey! Hands off!", Christiane shouted, her hands balled in fists as she ditched her bag on the side.
The man looked at her confused at first by her appearance, before slyly smiling, "Well hello there darlin', why are you hiding such a darlin' face like that."
Christiane pulled her arm back to punch him right in the face. She suspected his nose might have been broken judging from the crunch from the bridge of his nose.
"You bitch!", he hollered, grabbing onto his bloodied nose.
He tried to grab her as she dug her hand against his, twisting it and kicking him in the back, sending him running around the alley.
"Vas te faire foutre, connard!", she shouted after him.
Steve panted, blood seeping out from the corner of his lip as he looked up at her, "I had it under control, Chrissy."
Christiane pulled down the scarf, eyeing Steve, "Come on, let's get you patched up."
They turned the corner onto the Main Street, "You won't tell Bucky?" Steve asked.
"I won't need to tell Bucky, he'll already know!"
"You're not angry, are you?" Steve questioned.
She stopped, turning around to face him, concern over her face, "I'm not angry, Steve, but you've got to choose the right fights. You keep on getting into brawls in alleyways and if I've got to check in every single alley in Brooklyn to stop you then I will!"
Reaching into her bag, she brought out a handkerchief, blotting it on Steve's bleeding lip.
"Merci," he looked up, "You're one hell of a fighter," Steve chuckled.
"I've had a fair share of brawls myself when we lived in Paris," she chuckled back. They walked back in stride together.
"What happened?" Steve pressed the handkerchief to the wound.
"Just some disagreements, here and there. The boys in the area wouldn't let me play football with them, some boys going after Anya.", she shrugged.
"How is Anya? Haven't seen her in a while.", he asked.
"Just busy with work," Christiane tried averting the question.
"What does she do?" Steve questioned innocently.
"Analyzing things," she scratched her head, trying to think of a way to answer him honestly but without disclosing the truth.
Steve simply shrugged, before tucking the handkerchief into his pocket, "I'll wash this and give it to you later."
"Don't be silly! Give that to me, I'll wash it. While we're at it, I'll put some alcohol on that wound at home. Thankfully, you won't need stitches!" she fussed.
He looked down, hiding a smile before looking up, "Bucky's real lucky to have you, Chrissy. We're both lucky to have you."
Christiane looked up to the sky, smiling to herself, a breeze brushing stray strands from her tucked hair, "Can you imagine? Six months have passed."
He shook his head, smiling widely, "If it weren't for that darn map you were drawing on."