Disclaimer: As much as I wish I owned Captain America and his gang of misfits, I don't. All recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. Anyone else is a creation from the depths of my imagination.
Warning: Rated T for language and suggestive themes.
A/N: Wow! Thank you guys so much! I can't believe the reception this story has received so far and, quite honestly, it's blown me away. So a big, BIG thankyou to everyone who reviewed, fave'd and followed! You guys rock!
A quick note about following chapters. I'm not always this fast at posting the next chapter but I couldn't wait to get this one out to you guys! The next chapter might take a little longer to write (because of exams and RL, bleh). I will get it to you guys as soon as I can.
Please note:
"Speaking English."
"Speaking Romanian."
Thoughts.
Chapter Two
Tap, tap, tap.
Groaning, Charlie pressed her face further into her pillow, praying to whichever god would hear her that whoever was knocking on her door would just go away.
She'd had to take extra precautions on her way home the night before, taking the long way back on the slim chance that the man from the warehouse had managed to catch her trail. The last thing she needed was for him to show up while she was getting her much needed sleep to try and finish the job.
And so she'd stumbled into her apartment at some ungodly hour, ready to sleep like the dead, only to remember the phone call she'd promised Ian. Considering the fact that he would probably show up on her doorstep in the morning out of the blue if she didn't call him, she'd taken the time to let him know that she was okay. Only to regret it the moment he'd picked up, when he'd begun asking her a million questions about what had happened. It had taken another hour of for her to convince him that 'yes, there had been someone else there', 'no, she didn't get a good look at his face', 'yes, she was okay.' before he had finally let her slump into her bed to sleep.
Which had only felt like five minutes ago.
When the knocking continued, she turned her head, blearily opening her eyes to peek at the alarm clock on her bedside table.
8:05 AM
Goddammit.
Four hours of sleep was not enough to function.
"Chalee, wake up, I know you're in there," came a muffled and heavily accented voice through the door.
Mrs Cosima. The ancient old lady with wiry, white hair that stuck out of her head in every direction, reminding Charlie of an old, wrinkly, albino porcupine. Not that she would ever tell her that.
She was also Charlie's current employer, and over the past few months had become her closest friend around. Although sometimes gruff, she was kind; when Charlie had first arrived in Bucharest with nothing but a duffle bag and list of ex-Hydra bases, Mrs. Cosima had been quick to offer her a part time job and a place to stay. She only needed to help her with chores, entering client information into the computers and cleaning out the apartments when the tenants finally moved out. The rest of the time she was free to do as she pleased.
Which gave her plenty of opportunity to continue her search through the local Hydra bases, with no one being the wiser. All any of the locals knew was that she was here as a student from an American university to study local tourist attractions for her Tourism and Linguistics Double Major. Which was the perfect excuse to snoop around the city without raising many questions.
Besides, it wasn't too far of a stretch. Before she'd joined SHIELD, she had completed her linguistics degree. It was convenient knowing different languages while travelling. Mrs. Cosima enjoyed practising her english while Charlie practiced her Romanian.
Tap, tap, tap.
"Chalee," Mrs Cosima barked, trying to sound threatening and Charlie had to stop herself from smiling. It didn't quite sound as threatening when she couldn't even fully say her name properly.
"Alright, alright. I'm up!" she called back, pushing herself up, only for her breath to catch in her lungs as a sharp pain shot through the middle of her chest, the feeling reminding her of the beating she'd taken only the night before. Clearly, her ribs were bruised.
Ouch. She winced, tenderly rubbing the bruise she could feel through her shirt, willing the pain away. She was betting it was a nice shade of purple. Seriously though, that guy punched like a fucking machine. I'm lucky nothing is broken.
"Ha!" Mrs. Cosima barked victoriously, unaware of her predicament. "I knew you were in there."
"Where else would I be?" Charlie grumbled to herself, still focused on trying to take a breath properly without busting a lung. Gingerly, she shuffled herself out of bed. "Give me half hour and I'll meet you at your place," she told her through the door, referring to Mrs. Cosima's apartment, which also served as her office.
"Okay! Half hour," the old woman agreed and with that Charlie heard the soft patter of her slippered feet as she shuffled down the hallway and down the stairs to her floor.
Standing in her bedroom doorway, Charlie glanced around her small apartment, noting the piles of clothing on one of the chairs in the kitchen, as well as the small mess by the sink, and sighed, knowing she would have to spend some time cleaning up. She'd been too busy in the past week to really consider how dirty her apartment was getting. But it was definitely time to clean it up and do some laundry.
Her apartment was small, but cozy. It consisted of three main areas: the bedroom, the bathroom and the connected living/kitchen area. The kitchen area even had a small island which she used as a table and which separated the two spaces.
Stretching as best as she could, she hobbled over to the bathroom, stripping out of her pajama pants and tank top as she went, adding them to the pile on the chair.
Entering the bathroom, she winced as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The bruise the blossomed just below and between her breasts was as lovely as she expected it to be, not including the spattering of others she'd collected during the same time.
Her wrist wasn't looking any better, looking like a weird combination of red, purple and yellow around the inside. But thankfully, although bruised and swollen, at least it wasn't broken, she reminded herself as she rotated it slowly to make sure.
Ian would have thrown a fit if I'd told him about these. She thought, feeling kind of sheepish at the fact. She'd left out a few details here and there. Anyways, what he doesn't know, he doesn't worry about.
Slipping off her underwear, she stepped into the shower turning the water on the water as hot as she could, enjoying the pleasant feeling of the water rinsing off the sweat and dust from the night before. She'd been too tired to clean off when she got home, an easy battle between being clean and getting an extra hour of sleep.
Lathering her hair with shampoo, her thoughts drifted back to the attacker and not for the first time she wondered if he'd been following her, or if it was just been a coincidence that they were in the same building at the same time.
Unlikely. She snorted to herself. I doubt that someone trained like that just happens upon an old Hydra base. It's more likely that he's part of whatever is left of Hydra. Ducking her head under the water, she began to rinse out her hair. Although he could have just been scouting out the place like I was. For all I know, he might have thought that I was Hydra…
Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to get a good look at his face, so recognizing him again would be nearly impossible. Either way, let's make a point to not run into him again. You only get lucky once.
Rinsing off, she shut off the water, grabbing a towel and patting herself dry, before wrapping the towel around herself. Quickly wringing out her hair into the shower stall (unfortunately, it didn't have a tub) before stepping out of the bathroom and into her bedroom heading to her closet.
With a quick glance out the window, she knew that it would be a bit chilly outside and so grabbed black skinny jeans and a blue long sleeved shirt. Slipping on her underwear, she stepped into her pants and tugged on her shirt. Checking herself in the mirror, she made sure that none of the bruising was visible and that her sleeve covered her wrist. The last thing she needed was people asking questions. What could she tell them? Oh, I was trespassing in an old Hydra base, searching for my friend, who disappeared into thin air three years ago, and promptly got attacked by a super strength psycho. She snorted. Yeah, that would go reeeally well.
Eyes glancing over the clock on the wall, she froze when she realized that she was late.
Shit! Jeeze, Charlie you spend too much time daydreaming.
Slipping on her boots at the same time as she hurriedly pulled a comb through her long hair, which was sopping wet and looked much darker than her own natural brown. Frustrated with her lack of time to properly dry it, she quickly threw it up into a messy bun on the top of her head to keep it out of the way.
Grabbing her keys and a sweater, she glances around the apartment, making sure all the important stuff was secure before heading out the door, locking it behind her and hurried down the hall to the stairs, the boards creaking as she walked. Taking a couple of steps at a time, she hurried down to the second floor where Mrs. Cosima resided.
The building was quite old and run down. What had been previously beautiful wallpaper had begun peeling from the walls, the red paint on the railings flaking off after years of wear and tear. At twelve stories high, she was lucky to be on the top floor, the apartments to either side of her remaining empty for the entire time she'd lived here.
At some point in the past, the elevator had stopped working entirely, and due to the cost of repairs, Mrs. Cosima had to save the money before the work could be done. Which meant that the only way in and out of the building was down the endless spiralling staircase on one side of the building. When she'd first arrived, the building had been a thing from her nightmares - having to scale twelve flights of stairs everyday was not her idea of fun. But the longer she lived here the more she appreciated it. It kept parties interested in renting confined to the lower floors (apparently they felt the same way about stair as she had), giving her greater privacy - she had the entire floor to herself.
And she rarely had to think about working out.
Mrs. Cosima office was located on the second floor and as always the door was wide open. The old lady said it was because she was working from her home, and people were welcome to visit her during working hours. Charlie shuddered at the thought of leaving her place unlocked.
Walking through the doorway, she found Mrs. Cosima sitting at her desk in her usual spot, square glasses perched on her nose as she typed away at her computer. Luna, her white cat, was curled up in her usual spot by the table and perked up when she entered, giving her a small 'mew'.
Without looking up, the older woman pointed towards the kitchen. "Eat your toast," she said and promptly went back to typing.
Charlie brightened up, having forgotten about breakfast entirely. "Yes!" she cheered, mindful of her ribs. "Thanks Mrs. Cos! You know me so well!"
The older woman rolled her eyes in response. "Too well, it would seem."
"No such thing," she grinned in reply as she made her way over just in time for the toast to pop up. Grabbing the slice, she slathered on some marmalade before walking over to where Mrs. Cosima was sitting and peered over her shoulder. Ugh, taxes. "So what's the plan for today?" she asked, since Mrs. Cosima must have had something in mind to come and wake her up in the first place.
Pausing, the other woman turned towards her with an evil grin, before picking up the huge pile of files sitting next to her and holding them out.
Narrowing her eyes, she pointed at the pile. "If that is ten years of data entry, I might pre-emptively quit right now." She warned, slowly accepting the pile with a disgusted look on her face. Like she was picking up a bag full of worms instead of a pile of papers.
Mrs. Cos patted her hand comfortingly, giving her a mocking sympathetic look. "Then I don't have to get a new worker anytime soon. It's only five year of work."
"Hardy- har. You're absolutely hilarious." Charlie replied, rolling her eyes. "Just to let you know, the right word is 'slave', not 'worker'." She informed her pointedly, only to get swatted on the back. Grinning in response, she headed over to the desk on the far side of the room, where another laptop was set up. "Kidding, kidding."
"Brat," Mrs. Cos replied good-naturedly, before turning to face her. "Any study dates this week?" she asked, sounding curious. "You were out lots this past while," she commented slyly and not for the first time Charlie wondered if she suspected there was more to her 'studies' than she let on.
She hummed to herself. "Well, I was thinking of going to the National Museum of Art at some point, so I might head there some time this week," she told her, organizing the folders by month as the computer slowly turned on. "The Palace of Parliament was on my list as well. So one or the other," she said, thinking of a Hydra bases she could check out nearby. Her list was been getting shorter at a worrying pace.
"And any other kinds of dates this week?" Mrs. Cos asked casually, pretending like she was asking about anything other than the subject of dating. Like the weather. Or taxes.
Charlie sent her a dry look, which was purposely ignored. "No," she said flatly. For some reason, the older woman was always interested in her love life, asking if she had met any handsome young men during her studies.
Charlie would hate to inform her that the last man she'd encountered on her 'studies' had left her with bruised ribs.
Yeah...she might not find that nearly as amusing.
The older woman paused, peering over her glasses at her. "Chalee, at your age I was on a date everyday! And everyday was a different boy at that."
Charlie snorted in amusement, shaking her head. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."
"You must enjoy life! Have fun! Meet a guy or two."
"Or three." Charlie snorted in amusement.
"Or three." Mrs. Cos nodded wisely, looking like she was giving sage advice about life, and not suggesting that Charlie get a better sex life. "Believe me Chalee, it helps relieve...stress."
"Oh God, please stop. I'm not stressed," she cringed, burying her head into her arms. "Weren't you married?" she squeaked, trying to change the topic to something safer.
"Yes, I was!" the older woman stated looking proud, slapping her hand down onto the table, "We were married sixty years, me and Andrei. Sixty! But that does not mean I did not have some fun before we committed to one another."
"As a wise old woman, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be telling me the opposite! One true love, and all that crap! Not to have sex with every man I come across!" Charlie stated, loudly.
Then froze when someone cleared their throat.
As gruff as Mrs. Cos' voice could be. It sure as hell wasn't her.
It sounded like a man.
Someone was at the door.
OhGodohGodohGod! She mentally cried to herself, slowly sinking down in her seat as she felt a blush sweep through her body from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head. She was pretty sure that she was brightest shade of red available and for that reason alone couldn't immediately bring herself to turn around to see who was standing at the door
She could only pray that he couldn't speak a lick of english and had absolutely no idea what they had been talking about.
"Ah...Salud? I'm looking for… Mrs. Cosima?" he asked in Romanian and Charlie nearly died with relief, mentally sighing when she couldn't hear a trace of accent in his husky voice. Taking a slow breath, she regained control of herself as she heard Mrs. Cos get out of her chair to greet him. When she felt like she was back in control of her skin colour she slowly turned around to face the newcomer.
And paused.
Standing in the entrance was a rugged looking man. He was casually dressed, wearing jeans and a grey canvas jacket over a red shirt, duffle bag slung over one shoulder and a black backpack on the other. He was well build; broad shoulders and flat stomach showing his fitness.
But that's not what made her pause.
His strong chiseled jaw was covered in a thin layer of stubble, which she would have thought went along with the latest men's fashion except for his long hair. It was long, or at least longer than she'd seen on many guys recently, all who seem to favour shorter cuts.
However it also looked unkempt, like he hadn't had a chance to have a good shower in days, but had tried his best at hiding it under a black baseball cap.
But it was his eyes that caught her attention. Sharp blue eyes seemed to flit around the room, studying every detail intensely, as if looking for something hidden that he shouldn't miss. The only time they lingered was on the doors and the windows in the room.
And of course, he studied each of them in turn.
First his gaze landed on Mrs. Cos, who'd stepped up to greet him, a warm smile on her face. He studied her face and her posture, before his eyes drifted over to Charlie.
When he met her eyes, something seemed to flicker across his face before it quickly disappeared, becoming devoid of expression once more. But his eyes left her face, trailing over her body where she sat, and Charlie had to suppress a shiver.
It didn't feel like she was being checked out by a normal guy. It felt predatory, like she was being seized up. Like he was looking for weakness.
Then he turned back to Mrs. Cos and seemed to forget about her entirely.
Weird.
As goodlooking as he was, something struck her as off.
He looked familiar.
When he and Mrs. Cos began talking, she shook herself of the thought, bringing herself back to the present.
He probably just has one of those faces.
"I saw an ad in a local newspaper for an apartment," he said simply. "Is the offer still standing?"
"Yes, yes! Of course! Is it only you? Do you know how long you will be staying?" Mrs. Cos asked pleasantly him in return, asking her usual questions to determine who was staying where, her hand scribbling down his information on a blank sheet of paper.
"Just one," he answer, and seemed to hesitate for a second. "And indefinitely...if that is alright?"
"Not too worry, dear. I have plenty of units available at the moment," Mrs. Cos reassured him. "How about I let you check the place out and you make your final decision?" When he nodded in response, Mrs. Cos turned to her with a sly look in her eye. "Chalee," she called to her, and Charlie shot her a dry look in response, "would you show…" At the lack of name, the older woman shot the man a questioning look.
Another hesitation. "Bucky," he supplied finally. No last name?
"Would you show Bucky to his room, please?"
Charlie instantly wondered what the old woman was planning. Mrs. Cos usually liked to show the apartments off herself, as a way to get to know who would be staying in her building and begin building a positive relationship with them.
What's she up to? Charlie wondered suspiciously.
"Of course," Charlie answered in Romanian, nodding pleasantly as she pushed herself to her feet, noting how his eyes seemed to follow her movement. Analyzing and reassessing. "Which room would you like me to show him?" She asked the older woman.
The elderly lady shuffled over to her desk, opening her keys drawer with her own master key. Riffling through it, she found the one she was looking for and pulled it out. "If you could show him appartment 123?"
123? Charlie thought feeling momentarily puzzled. But that's...that's right next door... Then realization hit. That meddling old bat. She's trying to set me up for a date. Charlie wanted to groan out loud in embarrassment, instead she forced a pleasant smile onto her face. "Of course. If you would follow me back to the stairs, I can show you up to the apartment."
Instead of replying, Bucky merely stepped back into the hallway, giving her space to pass. Stepping forward to follow him, she snatched the keys from Mrs. Cos, shooting her a scathing glare as she went, who looked entirely too amused at her predicament, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. When she began rocking her hips provocatively, Charlie scurried out of the room like it had caught fire.
Evil, perverted old woman. She grumbled to herself. Briefly meeting the man's gaze, she nodded towards the direction of the stairs. "This way." Arriving at the stairs, she began their ascent, feeling the heavy presence at her back. Unexpectedly nervous, she began telling him about some of the details of the building to fill the oppressive silence. "Unfortunately the elevator is under repair, so the stairs are the only way up and down at the moment. I hope that won't be a problem?" she asked him, glancing back.
He shook his head in reply.
Of course he won't have problems going up and down stairs. The guy looks like he bench presses cars in his sleep…
"There are communal laundry rooms on the first and sixth floor. They're always locked. But the second key on the keychain will open them," she continued, feeling proud of herself for being able to talk and ascend ten flights of stairs at the same time, while not sounding like she was dying for breath. "It will also open the garbage area on the bottom floor."
He said nothing in response.
Awkwaaaard. A man of few words, I guess.
And with that they continued the rest of the trip up in silence.
Arriving on her floor - or their floor now - she let released a small sigh of relief, glad she was nearly rid of the uncomfortable silence that followed her up the stairs.
Heading down the hall, she stopped at the first door to her right, Room 123.
"This is it," she told him, pulling out the corresponding keys. Showing him the two keys on the chain, she pointed to the silver one. "Silver is for your room. The gold for laundry and garbage." Fiddling with the keys in her hand, she turned with intention of inserting the key into the slot, when her bruised wrist gave a painful twinge.
So she promptly dropped the keys.
She didn't have a chance to react when a gloved hand snapped forward a caught the keys midair.
Startled at the abrupt movement, she turned to look at him, finding him giving her an assessing look, eyeing her wrist with a small frown before meeting her eye and holding out the keys for her to take.
With a small grimace, she rubbed her wrist before taking the keys from him. "Uh. Thanks. I slipped on some ice the other day," she said in way of explanation, even though he hadn't asked.
Returning her attention to the door, she tried again, this time her wrist cooperated.
Turning the knob, she pushed the door open and stepped in, Bucky pausing at the doorway behind her, looking like he was examining the room the same way he'd done down in Mrs. Cosima's office. The room looked exactly like hers. Kitchen and living area attached. Small bedroom and bathroom through doors on the other side of the living room.
Standing in the living room, she pointed at the two doors, "Bedroom and bathroom are through there," pointing to the door on the other side of the kitchen, she continued. "There is a small balcony through there. It's not much, but it's a nice view."
After a second, Bucky slowly entered the room, looking in each of the directions she'd pointed a second before. Making his way to the bathroom, he pushed open the door and peered in before doing the same with the bedroom, which he walked into and disappeared.
Shifting on her feet, Charlie bit her lips as stood uncomfortably in the middle of the kitchen/living area, waiting to see if this quiet, mysterious stranger was going to be her new neighbour or not.
She didn't know how she felt about it.
Apparently he'd decided that the place met his expectations when he came back out of the bedroom and gave her a small nod.
Sending him a polite smile, she motioned towards the door. "If you'd follow me, we can head back down to Mrs. Cosima's and she can talk to you about rent?" Doing as indicated, he followed her out the door, which she locked behind them.
Thankfully, the trip back down to the office seemed to go much quicker than it had on the way up. And as she hurried through the door, she shot Mrs. Cos an exasperated look, only receiving a smug look in response before the older woman's gaze landed on Bucky and she went into full business mode.
"Will you be staying with us then?" She asked him as Charlie deposited the keys on the old woman's desk and headed towards her own.
Bucky tipped his head towards her. "If that is alright with you."
"Of course! Of course! Come over here child and we'll get the paperwork out of the way. Then you can get settled in."
Bucky moved towards the desk and Mrs. Cos slid the paperwork towards him. As he silently picked up a pen and began to fill him out the form, Charlie reached down and scratched the underneath of Luna's chin, her eyes never leaving his bent over form.
It bothered her that she still felt like she knew him from somewhere.
As he finished writing, clicking the pen off, he glanced up from under his baseball cap and blue eyes met her green. Despite the intensity of his gaze, she met it bravely, narrowing her eyes in return, before he broke her stare.
As Mrs. Cosima looked through the paperwork quickly, humming to herself, before giving a firm nod. "Everything looks good," she handed him the key, which he took careful and pocketed it. "And if you have any questions, Charlie lives right across the hall from you. She should be able to help you with anything you need."
Meddling old bat, she pursed her lips but gave Bucky a polite smile when he glanced at her.
Turning towards the door, he paused in the doorway. "Thank you," he said softly, before disappearing back into the hallway.
As soon as he was out of sight, the smile slid off of Charlie's face and she turned her narrowed gaze on Mrs. Cos, who gave her an innocent look.
Shrugging her shoulders, the old woman adjusted her glasses. "What? At least he's good looking. I mean, did you get a look of that ass?" She hummed with appreciation. "I bet he's good in bed."
"Oh God, Mrs. Cos! I'm not going to sleep with him." Charlie said, slamming herself back into her seat, shuffling through her files with the intention of fully ignoring her.
"Never say never, dear."
AN: Thanks so much for reading! Can't wait to hear your thoughts on Charlie, Mrs. Cos and Bucky! A review only takes a minute of your time and makes an incredible difference an author's day! And I will personally answer each and every one!
Guest: So glad you liked it! Hope this chapter answers some of your questions! :)