Disclaimer: I own nothing Captain America-related, not even Bucky Barnes…though I might consider asking Marvel to loan them and the rest of the Avengers to me for a while. Until then, only original characters and plots/ideas are mine.

AN: I'm back! Enjoy, and please don't forget to review!

Chapter 2: An Offer You Can't Refuse:

With SHIELD's records laid out by Agent Romanoff, and data available with a quick Internet search, it had been remarkably easy finding information on Adena Rogers. All he needed was a café with internet access, a public computer, and a printer.

In only a few days, he was able to trace members of Adena's extended family, research them, and narrow his choice down to a handful of young women he felt met his requirements.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the stacks of paper before him. He knew it was wrong, what he was planning to do, but there was no choice. He had money, he had many skills that could be both useful and deadly, but he had no friends or allies that he could trust to help him with this matter. He had nowhere and no one to turn to. This was his only option.

On each stack of paper was the name of a female in Adena Rogers' family. All were mature, adult women, and if the files and photos of them were any indication, were good and decent people. They also happened to be single or unattached, which he also deemed important, as he did not want an angry husband or boyfriend searching the globe for his girl.

It had actually surprised him, the sheer number of female relatives that Adena had in her family, and not all of them were the same. Most would find it difficult or alarming, to try and choose the right one for specific purposes, but not him –he was trained to assess which tools were best for any given circumstance, and it was the same with this particular situation.

The parameters were specific. He wanted a fully adult female, living independently of her family, unattached to a partner, with enough patience to assist him with his memories, and a strong will to stand against his outbursts.

It would normally take a squadron of men to deal with him, but for some reason, he felt himself developing a softness towards the opposite sex. It might be some sign of his former self, since as the Winter Soldier, he'd never had problems eliminating female targets.

Now, however, something inside screamed at him that a woman would be best. A voice inside wanted a woman, and his mind pointed towards the gentleness of a 'female touch,' so it was possible that a woman would be able to do what he believed men could not.

Perhaps it also had to do with the fact that it had been male scientists that had done this to him in the first place.

"This," of course, was the metal arm that now replaced the one he had lost so long ago. It was incredibly superior to a normal arm, but he had long learned that the odd and unexplainable tended to alarm and frighten people. They took one look at his arm, which was far superior to the typical synthetic limb, and grew afraid.

And in most cases, his metallic arm was one of the last things they ever saw.

Scowling, he once again began going through the information he'd memorized on each female relative of Adena Rogers, and began to dismiss them when they did not meet his criteria.

Two of them were in their early twenties or late teens, and still in college. Though they no longer lived with their families, it was obvious that their absence would be immediately noticed by college friends and roommates, as well as teachers.

A third was rejected for her high-profile job –her absence would be noticed immediately by her assistant and coworkers. She also had nosy elderly neighbors who looked in on her and brought her food, so attempting to get close to her residence was out of the question.

Fourth was a young woman with a cheerful personality and patience, but unfortunately, she had married only a few days ago. Clearly, she was no longer an option.

This left only one to choose from. However, if he wanted to be sure she was the right one, there was more work he had to do.

It was unfortunate that one of the skill sets HYDRA had failed to program into him was spying on others. Bucky (as he now struggled to call himself) had never been able to keep himself inconspicuous; not before the accident that had cost him so much, not with HYDRA, and not now.

From the little bits and pieces that he occasionally remembered, he knew that he'd been a soldier, not a spy. He had gone charging into battle with Steve Rogers and a group of other fighters, ready to tear down the enemy, all weapons blazing. There had been times where he'd taken a distant, hidden shot to save his fellow soldiers, but that was a subtle as he had gotten.

Under HYDRA, he had been a programmed killer. His job was to go in, eliminate his target, and get out. None of this really required stealth and silence, or subtly –he was usually able to do all of this and leave without many people giving chase (probably because they were all dead or hiding to save their own lives). He had always made sure to study the ins-and-outs of the areas he was sent to, so that he could escape capture, but again, subtly wasn't necessary until it was time to escape back to a HYDRA base.

In either case, as a soldier or an assassin, hiding in plain sight wasn't something he'd picked up. Soldiers always wore their uniforms proudly, which attracted attention. As an assassin, he'd stood out in his mask and with his metal arm; and in several cases, he'd been with groups of fighters that didn't act very quietly. HYDRA had always wanted him to be seen and memorable, so that he would be feared by every spy organization in the world.

Today, he didn't know what or who he was. A large part of his mind screamed that he was Bucky Barnes, a good man whose best friend was Steve Rogers, and that if he really wanted to, he could be that same man again, if he tried hard enough.

It was a nice thought, but unrealistic. The part of him that had been programmed to be a killer always tore at the more pleasant idea of being Bucky, and all that remained lingering in his head were the haunting, dead faces of those he had eliminated at HYDRA's command.

Deep down, he knew that he had to learn to put both sides in balance with each other if he was going to try and form any new kind of livelihood. It was almost an impossible task, and he very much hoped that having another human being around, one who wasn't a government agent or a HYDRA operative, would help him sort through the many struggles he knew was coming.

Right here and right now, however, all he knew was that being able to hide himself in a crowd was proving difficult.

He was uncomfortable with following someone everywhere, all while trying to keep her from noticing him. He was dressed casually, so that he seemed to fit in, even if he felt otherwise. Under a brown leather jacket was a plain black T-shirt; a pair of grungy blue jeans, black baseball cap, and sneakers, with brown gloves on to hide his metal hand, completed the outfit. For all intents and purposes, he fit in, physically, at least. Mentally, he wanted to bolt, his mind yelling at him to get under cover until he was sure things were safe.

'Remember your mission,' he chanted to himself, as he'd always done before this. It was something constantly told to him by his HYDRA handlers, and it usually helped to get his mind focused on what he was supposed to be doing.

He turned his head slightly, looking out of the corner of his eye as he sipped from his coffee cup. The woman he had chosen, a younger cousin of Adena Rogers, sat filling out a job application in a corner booth of the coffee house, her face scrunched up as she answered the questions on the sheet. It was the fourth one she'd filled out today, in just as many different shops in the area.

The girl, Anita Wallace, was ideal because of this.

After several days of watching and following her as carefully as possible, he had learned a lot about her. Unemployed, single, and living several miles away from friends and family, she was everything he was searching for: an easy target.

'No, not a target,' he lectured himself. 'She is not to be thought of as that.'

People were no longer going to be considered as such by him. They were human beings, and needed to remember that. Thinking of them as anything lower was HYDRA's way, and he wanted none of that any longer. Anita Wallace was a person, and by keeping a safe distance from her, he had learned a great deal.

Anita was a young woman without a job and living in a shared house with a tiny family. She was fortunate enough to occupy the top floor of the split house, and the other occupants had the larger, ground floor, with a door put in for more privacy for both parties. He had once heard her comment to a possible employer that she often babysat the child in order to earn a few extra dollars.

Now, things were looking dire for her. The young couple had taken their child on a long 'family vacation,' and was not due back for several weeks, so she was without any kind of income. Without money, Anita was alone, in a pinch, and anyone who could help her was so busy with their own lives that they would not notice her disappearance until it was too late.

Hiding a smirk behind his large paper cup of coffee, he watched get up and leave, probably heading towards home. It was tempting to follow her, but there were several things he needed to do before putting his plan into action.

Getting up from his corner seat, he tossed a few dollars onto the tabletop and headed out the door, his baseball cap pulled down to keep the bright sunshine off of his face. His motel was several blocks away, but using the backstreets in order to lose anyone who might follow him, it took about half an hour to get there. Fortunately, the walk was pleasant and through a nice neighborhood, so he didn't mind it much.

Halfway to the motel, he knew someone was following him. His senses screamed it, and it took a great deal of restraint to keep his urge to retaliate in check. It could be a child or other young person trailing close out of curiosity, but he doubted it –his senses said that it was an adult, and they had a purpose in mind.

In what felt like an instant, his mind clicked. The ones following him felt like government agents.

He considered panicking, but his assassin mentality fell into place. Panic would serve no purpose. He had to escape, and quickly. As he walked, he quickly considered returning to the motel, but decided against it. There was nothing of importance in his hideout, and nothing, not even a personal computer, to gave away his plans.

Behind him came the sound of two sets of feet, meaning his tail had increased. They knew it would take more than one agent to take him down, whoever they were. He had to act now, before it was too late.

Immediately putting on a burst of speed, he ran, racing along the sidewalks in a random pattern that he hoped would lose those following him. He knew he was fast, and it was incredibly difficult for ordinary people to catch up to him.

Down one sidewalk, across the street, and down another before backtracking on the other side of a block, he thought he was making progress, until something hit his back, sending bolts of electricity into his body.

In a few seconds, he was out.

Getting hit by electricity was enough to put anyone down for a good while. But thanks to the serum in his veins, for him, it was for a much shorter time.

When he woke to consciousness, he could feel straps wrapped around his body and arms, holding him down to a tall chair. A bright light came from above him, but if he kept his head bowed, it didn't bother him too much. Even the chair didn't bother him; it was heavily cushioned, as though the people who had him were truly concerned about his comfort.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted his eyes a little to assess his surroundings. He couldn't see much, but the cold, slightly dank air in the room told him that he was underground. From the corners of his eyes, he could see a pair of legs clad in the black cloth and shiny black leather shoes that only a government agent wore.

"Good, you're wake," said a male voice that bordered between amused and serious. "Don't try to fake being unconscious, either. I know you're awake, and I know that serum in you makes it so you heal quickly. Come on, look at me; I know you can do that, too."

Ah, so it was HYDRA, then. Only they knew about the serum that had been given to him. And he refused to be their "fist" any longer.

Flexing his metal hand, he was considering how to kill everyone that stood between him and escape when the agent declared, "I'm not HYDRA. I'm SHIELD."

The man once known as 'Bucky' froze. "SHIELD no longer exists," he flatly said, knowing that's what every HYDRA member wanted to hear. It was also the truth; the agency had been disbanded by the United States government. Therefore, it did not exist.

"Technically, that's true," the man said. "But I'm a true and honest SHIELD agent. Actually, I'm probably the truest agent you'll ever meet…Lieutenant Barnes."

'Bucky's' head snapped up, the bright light nearly blinding him as he struggled to look at the other man. No one in HYDRA's ranks called him that! The only ones who had done so were long dead, and there was no one alive today in HYDRA who would ever refer to him by his past identity.

The other man was gazing at him with kind, patient eyes. His head was beginning to bald, though his face did not appear that old. He was smiling kindly, and even though there were hints of many secrets in his eyes, there was no hostility or a sense of superiority that always lurked beneath the mask HYDRA members wore.

The other man nodded. "Yes, I know who you are. I'm Phil Coulson, the new Director of SHIELD; but you can call me Coulson. And I want to help you."

A second chair was pulled from near the door to the center of the room, and it was there that Phil Coulson sat, leaning back as he revealed what had brought him here. For some reason, the other man seemed insistent on calling him Bucky, rather than anything else.

"It is your name, after all," was the only reason he gave, and 'Bucky' accepted it. For some reason, having someone else address him by name made that identity more real.

"Ever since the incident in D.C., I've had what loyal agents I trust running around the globe, trying to hunt down what HYDRA agents we know about," Coulson told him. "I've even managed to get a few recruits from other government agencies. One of them, a person who I have full faith in, informed me that Captain Rogers was searching for you, so I took a big risk having him track you down for me."

He smiled. "I have to admit, you did pretty well. We didn't even know about you being here, until one of my techs found an unusual amount of activity involving background checks on family members of Adena Rogers."

Damn it, he thought he'd been careful about that! Annoyed with himself, he flexed his arms against the restraints still holding him (for Coulson's safety, of course).

Coulson shook his head. "You might be good at computer systems, but my people are better."

Of course they were, Bucky thought with a small sneer.

"Anyway, we couldn't help but wonder why you wanted one of Mrs. Rogers's family members –or more specifically, why you want one of her female relatives," Coulson commented.

Since there was no way they were going to let him go unless he talked, Bucky reluctantly allowed his plans flow out of his mouth and into the other man's ears.

Normally, such a thing would never have occurred, no matter what sort of torture he was under. However, Bucky had seen that this Agent Coulson truly did want to give him whatever aid he could –anyone else would have simply tortured or killed him by this point. But this man was honest, a trait that Bucky had rarely encountered in his life with HYDRA, and that made him begin to (reluctantly) relax as he spoke.

Though he had always been told that SHIELD was the enemy, he knew differently now. Bucky remembered reading files on high-ranking members of the agency, and he knew that many at HYDRA feared and hated Phil Coulson for his absolute dedication to SHIELD's ideals. Since the two agencies were complete opposites of one another, it was, therefore, safe to assume that the most loyal and true agents of SHIELD would be as good as the HYDRA ones were evil.

And here Coulson was, offering Bucky exactly what he wanted: help. So he let his reasons be known.

For a while, Agent Coulson sat there, giving him a thoughtful look, and during that time, Bucky began to wonder whether or not it had been a good idea to say anything.

Finally, Coulson shifted in his chair and let out a sigh. Looking over his shoulder, he called out, "Enter!"

The door opened, and in walked two individuals that Bucky was very familiar with: Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton, two of SHIELD's finest agents.

"Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton," Coulson greeted them. "You heard what he'd said. Tell me, Natasha; does his idea sound feasible?"

Her cool gaze scanned Bucky very closely. "In a way, it does. Adena's a great person, and from what she's told me, she comes from a nice, large family. It would make sense that there would be at least one cousin or family member that has the same sort of personality that she does."

Romanoff shifted on her feet, a move that Bucky knew put several hidden weapons within reach of her fingers. "They also probably grew up listening to stories about Captain America, so they'd have the same general familiarity on the subject of the Captain's past."

'A past that includes me,' Bucky thought as Barton voiced, "One that could include info on your own past, Lieutenant Barnes."

Coulson sat in his chair and looked thoughtful again as the two agents openly let their hands linger on the weapons that sat visibly on their belts. After a few moments, he sighed and crossed his arms.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to do what Director Fury did before me," Coulson declared. The two assassin-agents looked at him with mixes of surprise, skepticism, and doubt as he said, "I'm going to have to hire you an educator and constant companion."

Romanoff exchanged a glance with Barton. Even though they gave nothing away, Bucky could sense that they weren't sure about this decision.

"I know it's risky," Coulson admitted, "But you need help. I was going to suggest having someone of Agent Romanoff's caliber do it, but I doubt that having an assassin watch another assassin is a good idea. It more resembles a recipe for disaster."

Agent Barton nodded. "Agreed. They might just attack each other at the wrong time and in the wrong place. The last thing you need is hurt civilians and two possibly dead assassins on your hands."

"That would be very bad, and very messy," Bucky quietly agreed, startling himself and getting a small smile out of Agent Coulson.

"I don't like it," Romanoff flatly told them. "We shouldn't put a girl, a civilian girl, with no training in self-defense, in this kind of situation. Adena was chosen to help Captain America, one of the nicest and best men I'll ever meet. You're putting this girl in reach of a man who was scientifically experimented on twice by HYDRA, and is a known killer! His info is spread all over the Internet –she'll have to know who and what he is. If she's smart, she'll say 'no.'"

Coulson shook his head. "I guess we'll have to find out for sure, then, won't we? I want to talk to her and see how things go from there."

He looked over at Bucky. "Let's test your theory that you'll be more restrained with a regular woman than you would be with a female agent."

Instead of the thrill of victory, Bucky suddenly felt a surge of dread. What if he was wrong about this? What if his idea went completely wary and he ended up hurting an innocent girl, all because of what amounted to a hunch?

But as Agent Barton freed his arms and led him to a small set of living quarters, Bucky didn't say a word in protest.

AN: Anna will appear in the next chapter. Thanks for reading! Review?