Over the next several weeks Steve and Elda fell into a semi-regular schedule. They woke up within a half hour of each other, their clothes had yet to arrive they were forced to borrow the house clothes. Elda had stopped wearing the blonde wig and allowed her spiky red hair to radiate off her head once again. While a bit ostentatious for his taste, Steve had begun to admire he sense of style. They ate together, usually a high protein breakfast. Steve had never seen a woman who could put away so many eggs and sausage, even Peggy who worked out two hours a day only ate enough to sustain herself. After breakfast they worked out together, Elda insisted on cardio and sparring. Steve decided after the second time she had used an unfair move that he would not like to have her as an enemy and that fighting by the rules was highly overrated. Several times they would end their sessions with various cuts and bruises.

By far the hardest part of the day was when they sat down in the office and researched the missing children's social media activity. Occasionally Steve would ask her questions about how things were handled from a legal stand point regarding the criminals. Elda always answered honestly and in full detail.

In the afternoons, after a hearty lunch, they would drive down the hill into Seattle and follow various streets. Fury had provided them with a minivan, it was both inconspicuous and practical, but Elda hated it. She never complained but Steve could tell she missed her Cadillac. They took a tablet full of children's pictures that they were supposed to be watching for, as well as a small screen that attached to both side windows. Steve didn't know the official name of it, Elda had called it the face recognizer, it would use the data from the tablet to look at every face and alert them if someone's face looked more than eighty five percent like the photo of one of the children. In over a month they had yet to find a single missing child or a single lead on the social media front.

Over the course of one of their treks through a very poor part of Seattle, Elda suddenly pulled over her car and ran toward a group of very scantily clad women. Steve kept his eyes down but watched discreetly as Elda talked animatedly with the prostitutes, as he correctly presumed they were. The women seemed to take to Elda and all three of them climbed into the back of the van. One sat in the front and the other two sat in the back with Steve. Without trying to be rude, Steve sat as far away from the prostitutes as possible.

"I hope you girls won't get in trouble for this but I would like to take you to the hospital before we go eat." Elda turned toward the nicer part of town, "I would also like to buy you each a coat; it has to be freezing on that corner."

The woman sitting closest to Steve beamed at the rear-view mirror, "Oh, sweetie, you don't have to do that for us. Just taking us to dinner without any extra expectations is almost unheard of."

The other girl in the back, much younger than the other two, pursed her lips, "Why would you do this for us? You don't know us and hospitals are expensive."

"Actually girls," Elda pulled up to the front of the hospital, "I do want something from you." Steve could see all the women tense, despite being unnaturally focused on the tablet. "I will give you my number and if any of you see some kids that are too young to be on the street, I want you to call me as soon as you get the chance."

"That's it?"

"That's it. I'm looking for a couple of my friends' kids. They went missing a while ago." She stepped out of the car and held the back door open, "I've been looking for them but I haven't had much luck so I am hoping that if any of you see any kids you'll let me know." She led the way into the hospital and waved for Steve to park the car.

When Steve finally found a space in the parking garage and made it back to Elda's side all three of the women were back with a doctor. Elda explained that she had offered a thousand dollars to the 'hookers' if they helped her find the kids.

"Why would you take them to the hospital and then feed them? Don't they have enough money to pay for it themselves?"

"It isn't that they don't have enough money; many people, both men and women, on the street are druggies; that's where most of their cash goes. No one ever wants to help them, men just want to use them and women judge them. I guarantee that at least two of those women have gotten pregnant and had abortions or miscarriages. Did you notice that they had many sores on their bodies, especially their faces?"

Steve shifted, why did she have to ask such odd questions? "Well I did notice that the girl with the curly black hair had a nasty scab on her lip."

"I told the doctor to treat them for anything and to give them only medication that they couldn't get addicted to. They also will be getting a newer type of birth control that will be inserted into their arm like a shot. They won't be able to get pregnant. I also am having the doctors look for broken bones and signs of abuse. I can't pull them out of this life, but if I show them that there are people that want to help them, maybe they will reach out for help."

Steve sat back in his chair and stared out the window. This girl had everything she could want and she spent her time helping orphans and prostitutes. She puzzled him to no end.

After several hours a nurse approached them and whispered quietly to Elda. Steve tried not to listen, really, but he did catch snippets. Not much made sense from what he could hear except that the women were in relatively good health, considering. The two women conversed for several minutes too quietly for Steve to hear. Elda finally pulled a check book out of her purse and wrote a check for the visit and handed it to the nurse who returned a receipt to her. Neither woman noticed that Steve had seen the number written on the check. He balked at the five digit number.

The three girls emerged from their perspective rooms, looking much better than before. Apparently their clothes had been washed in the hospital machines. They had also been allowed to shower and their hair and makeup had been styled by some overexcited nurses. Their scars and abrasions were less obvious now that they had been cleaned and stitched or bandaged.

The stop at the mall was significantly shorter and less expensive; Elda bought each girl a large coat and matching boots. Steve had just followed the women from store to store keeping his mouth shut and his eyes open. He noticed that Elda took the women to classy but not overly expensive stores. She also made sure that the coats were actually warm as well as 'eye-catching' as she referred to them.

Dinner was by far the most interesting event Steve had attended in ages. Elda took the girls to a discrete restaurant where no questions would be asked. The waiters had been cordial if not a bit standoffish. The three prostitutes had ordered salads all around but when Elda ordered a pasta dish and bread sticks for herself they changed their orders. They practically inhaled their meal and Elda ordered extra for them to take home for later. Steve didn't eat. The way the women inhaled their food and used their fingers with the spaghetti caused him to lose his appetite. He opted to pretend he had a phone call to make and hid in the men's room until Elda texted him that it was time to leave.

They drove the girls back to the corner from where they had picked them up. Elda handed them each a thousand dollars and told them to make up whatever story they needed. She reminded them of her promise to pay for information regarding the children. Only after they had turned the corner and the women were out of sight did Steve sigh heavily and slump into his seat.

"Something wrong Captain?" Elda smiled softly at him over her shoulder.

"Why did you throw me into that situation?" he ran his hands over his face, "I had no idea how to act around them. Did you even pay attention to what they were wearing? Did you see how they ate?"

"Captain many of the women in those situations can't help their station and they don't know how to better themselves." She pulled over to the side of the road and turned in her seat to look Steve in the eye. "I didn't mean to throw you into that, it was an impulsive act on my part. I realized as we passed the working girls that they see dozens of people a day, they could stumble across some of our missing children." She placed a hand on his knee, "They have to wear what they wear because of their occupation. They are supposed to attract customers and wearing next to nothing is the easiest way." Steve kept his hands in his lap and stared down at them, feeling as if he were being chastised. "The working girls that have education and manners aren't found on street corners, they have apartments, cars, phone numbers and regular clients. They get paid more than two hundred dollars a session." She withdrew her hand and turned back to the front, "If you would like next time, I'll leave you somewhere while I build report."

Despite his discomfort, Steve had agreed to accompany Elda whenever she treated someone. He found out the third time that it wasn't always prostitutes that she cared for, she also picked up several panhandlers, drug dealers, and other people that society had deemed untouchable. They were always taken to a hospital or clinic, bought a coat, socks and shoes, and taken out to eat. Sometimes, with their permission, she would check them into a rehab centre and pay for their stay. Everyone, except the prostitutes and those in rehab, were put up in a hotel for two nights and given a bag of food. When Steve asked her if S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to cover the costs she had shrugged and told him that reimbursements didn't matter.

By the fifth or sixth day Steve had taken to bringing along little bags of trail mix and bottles of water. Every time they passed a pan handler on a corner he would hand one of each out to them. Despite their efforts they were still no closer to finding any of the children. Steve thought Elda would grow discouraged, her shoulders slumped a bit near the end of every day but the fire in her eyes burned with a holy passion every time she talked about the children or she updated Fury on the telecom.

After fruitlessly searching all day, they ate together, said goodnight and Steve would go to bed. Elda would stay up researching on her father until the early morning then she would sleep for four or five hours and start over. She never mentioned it to Steve and he never asked her about it, He remembered how some people had treated him like glass when he had lost Bucky. He respected her right to find her father and he had no doubt that she would be the one to find him.

Most of their conversations consisted of sharing information about the children. Whenever Steve would ask her any questions not directly related to the case she would quickly change the subject. And if he brought anything up about her past she would physically tense up. She put up with it for five weeks before she finally had had enough. They had been researching a possible lead on two sisters, who had frequented the same site, but the site had turned out to be a dead end. She had placed an undetectable trace on the site, however, in case anything suspicious was talked about; meetings, addresses, and phone numbers were one of the many things the 'Trojan horse' was watching for. In an attempt to draw Elda into a more personal conversation, Steve had asked if she had learned to set up the tracker from her father. When she had merely nodded in answer he asked what it had been like to grow up with the genius, if she had felt a lot of pressure to excel.

"Captain, while I appreciate that you and I have gone through some hard times, and maybe even some similar to each other that could bond us, I have no intention of being your friend." He leaned back surprised and set his tablet on the desk, "In case you haven't noticed, I don't want to talk about my father. It's painful enough that I haven't gotten a lead and now you want to bring up memories that are painful for me."

Steve kept silent after her outburst for a long time, "Agent Wentworth," when were they back to addressing each other by their titles? "I only wanted to help you ease your mind; you've been so stressed about this mission. Even though we don't know each other very well, I think we could be rather good friends, I am beginning to care about your well being."

She held up both hands, almost as if surrendering, "Don't"

"What?"

"Don't become emotionally attached to me. We can't be friends." she stood. "Too many times I have become friends with someone, only to emotionally invest myself in the relationship more than they did. Too many times I've fallen for someone only to have him break my heart or had friends stab me in the back. So, no, we aren't friends and you shouldn't care for me. If you care for me then I'll start caring for you back and then this... cooperation will fail to work any longer. I don't have friends and I never plan on having any, especially the pretty boy all the other female and half the male agents are fawning over."

She didn't wait for him to yell at her for being irrational, argue his sincerity, or to even mock her emotional instability, even though he wouldn't have, instead she stormed out of the room and out the back door where he assumed she would spend some time in the pool. She had taken to swimming laps for a half hour a day whenever she tired of research. She had invited him to joining her but after seeing her in the bikini he had decided that his time was better spent in research. Besides, he had a hard time showering let alone swimming lately. Now was not the time to start, she obviously didn't want him around. Had she stayed in the room just a moment longer she would have seen the twin tears escape Steve's eyes, race down his cheeks and drop onto the table.

CKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCK

She had only been out for five or so minutes before she burst into the office again, dripping wet and clad only in a red bathing suit, "Chopper coming in!" She grabbed his forearm and half drug, half lifted him out of his seat and yanked him through the kitchen, half slipping on the soaked floor. The artificial wind sent red and gold leaves and bits of grass swirling around their legs. A large black helicopter, not unlike the ones he had seen in the war, settled onto the grass and the blades stopped spinning. Steve lowered his hand from blocking the flurry of debris and watched as a short man dressed in an unremarkable suit stepped down from the pilot seat and stalked toward them.

The man was obviously an agent of shield, Steve could see the emblem on the aircraft, but the way that he sneered at Elda caused Steve to distrust him. The man lifted his aviators, gauged the distance between the couple and seemed to approve of something. He stopped in front of them and looked Elda up and down aggressively. Steve could almost see the shorter man drooling like the cartoons of a hungry wolf. To her credit, Elda neither flirted back nor became defensive; she merely looked up at him coolly as if he were nothing more than a lamp post. When he didn't get the response he was apparently looking for he turned to Steve and offered his hand, "Names Pat Jones, You must be the famous Captain America." Taking a page out of Elda's book, Steve accepted the man's hand with a blank expression. For some reason Elda thought him less than worthy of her attention and Steve trusted her judgement, he would be wary of this man as well. The cold reception didn't seem to dampen Jones mood, the big stupid smile stayed plastered across his mouth.

"What are you doing here Jones?" Elda's voice was cold and clipped, causing Steve to stifle a shiver, "We don't need any help, especially from you."

"Well fine, Princess," He snapped, his eyes narrowing and lip curling, "I'll just leave and take your belongings with me." The change of expression surprised Steve so much that he stepped back from the man and subconsciously toward the woman.

She continued watching the helicopter. "Do that and I will ensure that you wake up tomorrow with no memory and a bus ticket to Cripple Creek Colorado." Her facial expression had not changed, but now she turned to him and leaned down, an easy feat considering that he was only five foot eight and she easily had two or three inches on him. "I've had enough of the way you speak to and treat me and the other women at base." She stalked past him, making sure to catch his side with her elbow, and yanked open the door of the chopper, lifted a large box and stalked past the two men into the house.

"Good luck dealing with the Princess." Agent Jones sneered at Steve, "She's a royal bitch at the best of times; she must be unbearable now that her daddy dearest is MIA."

Briefly Steve wondered if he would get in trouble for punching the smaller man, but he held back resigning instead to try to draw the man into a civilized conversation while they unloaded Steve's belongings. "I'm sure losing her father has been tough on her, the least we can do is try to be understanding. Not many people would handle this whole situation as gracefully as she." Jones only snorted and watched with the same predatory smirk he had given Elda, as Steve heaved a box marked with a stamp that looked like his shield into his arms. Steve ignored the blatant staring. "By the way, why do you call her princess?"

Agent Jones scoffed, "Because that's what she is. You saw how she greeted me. She didn't even salute and I've been an agent longer than her. She's a level eight operative, and I'm only a three, she only got promoted because she's Fury's go to girl when he's horny. She won't date anyone, except when she lays the Director, it's so bad that if anyone even as much as says hello she shoots them down right off. I've tried to be nice to her, a lot, but she's so stuck up she won't even go out for a cup of coffee with me. She seriously needs to get laid by a real man but I'm beginning to think that she must be lacking lady parts or she has bats or something. I hear Fury is into weird stuff." He hadn't bothered to help carrying anything but helped himself to a beer from the fridge while passing the kitchen. He leaned across the counter as Steve set his parcel on the floor of the front room, "You know what I think, I think she is just Fury's little bitch and that's why she's allowed to get away with everything. Why else would she get away with playing nanny to a bunch of orphans while the rest of us have to bust our asses all day every day? How nice it must be to be Fury's pet."

Steve was saved from having to retort by Elda's sudden appearance, "I wouldn't know. I am not the filthy mutt that humps Fury's leg every time he gets the chance. I am not so desperate for approval that I show off and embarrass my team mates so often it's impossible to get promoted." She swept past him and back out to the chopper where she had half a dozen boxes marked with a GW. For the next ten minutes Jones just followed Steve while he hauled in his boxes complaining about the unfairness of his life, generally disrespecting everyone, and specifically disrespecting everything about Elda from her hair to her fighting style. Steve wished he could take out his ears but he suffered through the little man's ramblings, knowing that Elda wouldn't let him stay any longer than it took to unload.

Finally the last box was stacked in the living room and Elda had ordered Jones to leave. He was turning away when she seemed to remember something. "Just a minute," She snapped at him. He stopped mid step as she crossed her arms over her now dry swimsuit, "If you ever speak to me, or if I ever find out that you have spoken about me the way you did today, I will personally remove your tongue, your thumbs, and your testicles and send them to your mother. That includes embellishing your report to your superior officer. Now, if you aren't out of my house and off my lawn in exactly thirty seconds I will shoot you. Multiple times." His face drained of colour and he tripped over himself running back to the helicopter and had her in the air in record time.

Steve waited until the contraption was out of sight before turning to Elda, "You wouldn't really chop all... that off and mail them to his mother, would you?" Honestly, he was impressed that she hadn't just punched him on principle alone.

"No, of course not." Her jaw was set; she looked up at him, the corners of her mouth twitching. "I would deliver them in person."