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.

AN: Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the incredible reviews, as well as all the favourites and follows! It makes me so happy to know that you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! :)

Warning: Rated T for language and suggestive themes.

Please note: "Speaking English." "Speaking Romanian." Thoughts.

Chapter Three

Charlie was pretty sure her new neighbour was dead.

It had been almost two weeks since he'd first moved in across the hall, and during that time, she hadn't seen him a single time. Not. Even. Once. In fact, there'd been so little activity on her floor that she almost felt like she was still the only one living there. Which was nice, if a little odd. And maybe a little creepy.

She knew the floorboards outside her door squeaked. They'd done so since the very first day she'd moved in. And it's not like he could avoid it. If he wanted to leave the floor, he would have to walk over them to get to the stairs. It was the only way out of the building. But as days turned into weeks, she realized that she hadn't heard them squeak a single time.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the quiet. She did. She'd enjoyed the benefits of being the only person living on her floor for a long time. But she was beginning to think that it was a little too quiet.

Who's to say that 'Bucky' hadn't slipped in the shower, cracked his head open in the tub and died all alone in his bathtub?

Or maybe heart attack? She thought to herself, staring blearily at her screen, having given up entering anything nearly twenty minutes beforehand. Although I seriously doubt it, not with his physique. Maybe he'd just moved out and hadn't told anyone?

When she'd mentioned it to Mrs. Cosima, the older woman had told her that she'd seen him come and go from the building a couple of times, but that had been mostly throughout the first couple of days.

Charlie wasn't so sure.

She was beginning to wonder if she should knock on his door at some point and make sure he was alive. That's what a good neighbour would do, right?

But...what if he answered? The thought made her anxious. What if he didn't answer? Then you might have to go into his place….And then you might find a dead hot guy….in his bathtub...naked. Oh god. When her mind began to come up with a number of images of what he might look like under all those clothes, she threw herself backwards into her chair with a groan.

You're mind has clearly been exposed to the thoughts of another dirty mind. Narrowing her eyes, she shot the unsuspecting Mrs. Cos a nasty look before focusing on the screen of numbers in front of her.

Tapping her heel repeatedly for another five minutes, her patience finally snapped and she shoved herself almost violently out of the chair. "That's it. I'm going to go down to the market, I've got some things to get. If I sit here another minute, I'm going to go crazy," she stated.

Mrs. Cos sighed. "Thank God. I thought I was going to have to throw you out! I pay you to work, not daydream," she grumbled, flapping a hand towards the door. "Go. Get out of here."

Charlie rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the twitch of her lips. "Yes Ma'am!" she said, sliding on her jacket before reaching under her desk to grab her purse. "Is there anything you need while I'm out?" she inquired, since part of her day job was to make sure the elderly woman had everything she needed.

"Hmm," the older woman drummed her fingers on her lips with a finger, eyeing the kitchen door, (her apartment was much bigger than Charlie's own). "Just a batch eggs, if you could?"

"Of course," Charlie nodded, throwing her purse around her shoulders and heading for the door. "I might not be back until later."

Mrs. Cos. waved her away, swiveling around the face her, adjusting her glasses. "It's okay. I'm meeting with the electrician in the afternoon...maybe get this damn elevator fixed. You can have the afternoon to yourself." Charlie nearly cheered, though the old woman continues before her could. "However, I expect you to actually get some work done tomorrow."

Charlie cringed, sending her a sheepish smile. "I know, I know. Sorry."

She received an exasperated shake of the head in response. "Bah. Young people. Living with their heads in the clouds. Go on, get out of here, I actually have work to be done," she pointed to the door and Charlie was only happy to oblige, leaving with a small wave of her fingers.

Fortunately, the market was fairly quiet today, so it didn't take her long to grab everything she came for. She just needed to make one last stop at the fruit stand before she could head home back to the apartment. Skimming the rows of fresh fruits, she grabbed a bag of apples before heading over to pay, aware of the dark eyes watching her from the other end of the stall.

Lucas, the stall owner's son, had developed a small infatuation with her from the moment she'd first walked into the market. Not in a creepy way, but he definitely went out of his way to be friendly to her and would often serve her before someone else.

Not that she minded. It wasn't like she had many friends in the area, and it was nice to talk to someone who was close to her own age. He was always interested in what she had to say, always making a point of asking her about her school research and where she was planning to check out next.

And...It didn't help that he was really good looking. Short, dark hair, dark almond eyes and cute dimples that appeared on his cheeks whenever he smiled. Which he did often. Usually at her.

Glancing up she met his eyes, sending him a small smile and a wave, which he returned with cheeky grin of his own, which made her heart warm. He was always excited to see her. Finishing tending to the customer he was helping, he skipped over to where she was standing and leaned on the back of the fruit table towards her.

"Charlie!" he said warmly in greeting. "How are you today? Picking up some vegetables for Mrs. Cosima?"

"I'm good, Lucas," She replied in Romanian, before shaking her head, handing him the coins to pay for the apples. "And no. Not today. Fortunately, Mrs. Cos only needed eggs this time... I'm actually here to buy some fruit for myself."

His face changed to one of over-the-top shock and he clutched the money to his chest. "To buy some fruit? You wound me so, my dear Charlie. I thought you'd come by to say hello to little, old me," he shook his head sadly, like he couldn't believe the words he was hearing.

Charlie grinned at his acting. "Old, maybe. Dramatic, definitely. Little, not so much," she nodded, making a point of looking up at him. There was nothing little about the guy. Tall with muscular broad shoulders did not constitute as little in her book.

He threw his head back in a good natured laugh, before wiggling his eyebrows at her. "Fair enough. So tell me, will you be visiting any more attractions any time soon?" he asked, referring to 'student' cover. "You promised me pictures last time, and I have yet to see them!" He added, wagging a finger at her.

As part of her cover, Charlie did make a point of actually visiting tourist attractions in the area and seeing that photography was something that she'd always enjoyed, she would take scenic shots of local attractions.

She sent him a sheepish grin. "I know. Sorry. I'll try to bring my camera by next time to show you."

"Uh, you know…" he began, looking a little more serious than before. "If you wanted, I could... show you around town?" He suggested, looking a little uncomfortable but determined in his question. "So, you know...you could get a local's point of view on Bucharest? I know some pretty interesting places to go to. And, um, maybe we could go out for dinner or drinks afterwards?"

Charlie was surprised at his question. Although he had always been flirty with her, it had never been more than just teasing from across the stall. But here he was, asking her to go out on a...date?

Maybe Mrs. Cos is right. I should have some fun every once in awhile. It doesn't have to be serious, just fun between friends. A few drinks never hurt anyone anyways.

At her hesitation, his expression fell and he shifted awkwardly. "Uh. Nevermind, you know if you're too busy, I understand," he said with a sad smile, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm busy," she blurted out, immediately wanting to kick herself when he cringed. "This week. But….I'm free...next week, if you want to go then? As friends?" she suggested, making sure to add the 'as friends' part. She didn't want him to get the idea that this could lead to anything long term.

Not when you could be out of here in a month.

He brightened in response, a boyish expression of delight crossing his face. "Of course. Good. And as friends! Of course, whenever you are available. Is there any day that works best for you?" He seemed determined to ignore his babbling in favour of setting a date.

Charlie had to hide her smile at his enthusiasm. "Let's say Friday? I'll probably be working during the day, but afterwards works well for me."

He grinned and nodded. "Perfect. Friday it is. I can meet you outside your building around six?"

"Six on Friday sounds great," she agreed, before glancing at her watch. "Crap. I should go though. Mrs. Cos is probably beginning to wonder when all her eggs are."

"Of course." He replied easily. "I'll let you get back to shopping."

"Thanks Lucas," she said, giving him a soft smile in response, pushing her hair behind her ear. "And I'll see you soon?"

He nodded and smiled. "See you soon, Charlie."

Heading out of the marketplace, she couldn't help the smile that stayed on her face as she began making her way back to the apartment building, which was only a couple of blocks away. Weaving through the crowds, she was grateful when the building came in sight. Arms loaded with three overstuffed grocery bags, she realized that she'd bought way more than planned.

Entering the building, she headed up to Mrs. Cos' office, stealthily slipping through the front door and heading to the kitchen. When she heard voices coming from the office, she realized that the electrician the older woman had been waiting for must have shown up. Quickly peering into the office, she met the old woman's gaze over the man's shoulder, and sent her a smile, which Mrs. Cos returned with an appreciative nod before returning to her conversation.

Charlie left her to it and began the long trek up the stairs to her own place, regretting having bought so much. Sighing, she realized that she couldn't wait for the elevator to be fixed, if only to save her the effort of lugging up pounds of groceries all the time.

Can't say that it doesn't help keep you fit though...

She was nearly halfway up the long flights of stairs that she realized that she was going to have a problem - the bottom of one of her bags was ripping.

Dammit! She thought, hurrying up as fast as she could. Maybe the bag would hold long enough to make it-

Or not.

She hadn't even made it to the next flight of steps when the bag ripped open and groceries scattered everywhere. The bag of apples and the box of cereal landed on the next step up, easily within reach. However, it was the cans of soup that skittered down the stairs behind her that were the issue.

"Fuck," she groaned, holding the straps of the now empty bag in her hand. She could only watch as one of the apples rolled across the step and under the railing, plummeting down at least six floors to certain death, half expecting a howl of pain from some poor sod that happened to be standing in precisely the wrong place at the wrong time. Fortunately, no sounds of distress greeted her, and she sighed again, but couldn't quite bring herself to feel relief.

Typical... just typical.

Taking a deep breath, she blew it out in frustration, setting the two other bags on the next step up and rolled her shoulders, pushing a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear. Leaning down, she began to gather some of the nearby items, trying to somehow stuff them in the top of the other bags.

"You dropped this," a husky voice said suddenly from behind her.

"Holy shit!" she yelped, heart leaping into her throat as she whirled around, instinctively crouching down defensively on the uneven stairs, fist raised before her, one of the apples still clutched tightly in her hand.

And came face to face with Bucky, her new neighbour.

He stood several steps below her, dressed very much the same as the first time she'd seen him back in the office, his black backpack still strapped safely to his back. Sharp blue eyes watched her from beneath his ever-present baseball cap. Although when his gaze flickered to the apple in her hand, she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch in what could only have been amusement.

Then she realized he was patiently holding out two of the cans that had disappeared down the stairs behind her, waiting for her to take them.

Wanting to groan at the idea that he had caught her so unprepared, she tried to calm her racing heart, forcing herself to relax and lower her hands, glad that she'd resisted punching him in the face with the apple the moment she'd turned around.

Yeah…that would have been embarrassing.

She sighed.

"You...need a bell or something," she stated, flapping a hand out towards him. Then cringed. Hello foot. Meet mouth. Why did she always seem to sound like an idiot around guys? Wanting to roll her eyes at her own predicament, she reached out to take the cans from his waiting hand when she froze, realizing something else.

Did he just…

"Wait, did you just speak English?" she asked him, frowning down at him, distinctly remembering him speaking fluent Romanian when he'd first arrived.

If he knew English and had understood the whole time...she felt her face warming at the thought. With that realization, she threw her head back with a groan, covering her face with both hands. "Oh my God, you speak English!" she moaned pathetically into her hands, before peering at him through her fingers. "You could have at least said so," she whined.

When she didn't receive an answer in response, only a slight twitch of an eyebrow (he either looked amused or confused...she didn't quite know which).

He's probably beginning to regret accepting the place next door...

With another sigh, she narrowed her eyes at him, lowering her hands and reached out, snatching the cans of soup he'd patiently been holding out for her, hoping that he didn't notice the red tinge to her face.

"Look. Do us both a favour?" she rambled on as she turned around to viciously shove the items into the bags. "Just...forget whatever you heard when you first arrived?" she nearly begged, hefting the bags up precariously into her arms. "Mrs Cos is wonderful and all, but she has a big freaking mouth sometimes...and an interesting sense of humour," she informed him, before glancing back down at him.

Yep, he's still staring at you like you've lost your mind.

Although something about his expression had softened, and his lips twitched into what could have been called a ghost of a smile, he tilted his head a fraction to the side and shrugged calmly. "I didn't hear a word," he told her almost innocently, with that pleasant voice of his. Which, she realized, didn't have a trace of an accent either.

Perfect English and Romanian... She filed the thought away for later. People usually had a trace of an accent either one way or another.

Ignoring the thought, she coughed a small laugh, shooting him grin. "See? I like you already! Just keep doing that whenever you hear Mrs. Cos's conversations and you'll be able to keep your virgin ears," she informed him pleasantly, turning to continue the awkward trek up the rest of the stairs, grinning to herself when she heard what could only have been a small huff of laughter behind her.

She hadn't taken more than a few steps before he called up to her.

"Would you... like a hand?" he inquired, sounding nearly hesitant in his offer to help.

Pausing, she frowned as she turned back to him, seeing that he hadn't moved a muscle from the step that he'd been standing on. Glancing up the stairwell, she noticed that she was still only halfway to their floor and that it would just her luck if one of the other bags ripped open.

"Uh...sure?" she replied uncertainly, noting his hesitation, before trying to reassure him. "Of course, only if you really want to! It's not too far - I really don't mind carrying them up my..." her comment died on her lips when he easily strode up the few steps towards her and held out a gloved hand expectantly.

"I don't mind at all," he informed her, this time more firmly, his eyes meeting her own.

"Thanks," she gave him a small smile, handing over one of the overstuffed bags, which he took carefully in arm, before tilting his chin up the stairs, indicating for her to go up ahead of him.

Making her way up more easily now that the load in her arms was lighter, she struck up a conversation before the silence could get uncomfortable.

"So," she began. "I have to say, I'm impressed. You're Romanian and English are extremely good...I actually can't even begin to guess which is your native tongue?" she half asked, glancing back at him questioningly. From this angle, she was unable to see his eyes under the cap, but she could see the stubble covered bottom half of his face.

She did see him lick his lips before answering.

"English," he told her simply, shifting the bag so it rested more comfortably in his arms.

"Wow, I'm impressed." she repeated, shaking her head with a small smile. "Your Romanian is fantastic. I have to say I'm a little jealous."

At her strange comment, he glanced up looking puzzled, briefly meeting her eyes before she turned back around to make sure she didn't make a fool of herself by tripping up the stairs. Would be just her luck.

"I'm a linguistics student," she informed him, telling him the same story she told everyone else of why she was in Romania. "I'm actually here to study some of the local tourist attractions. Well that, and improve my Romanian," she commented dryly. "You should have heard me when I first arrived...it was awful. Mrs. Cos wouldn't even let me speak to customers for the longest time. Said it was too embarrassing."

"Your Romanian is very good," he commented.

She laughed, then grimaced. "Now it is. Believe me, it was bad. Really bad."

"How long have you been here?"

"Hmm, almost three months now? More or less anyways," she answered with a small shrug as they finally stepped out onto their landing, passing his door and heading towards her own. Reaching into her jacket, she jingled the keys out of her pocket, as Bucky came to stand beside her. "So, what brought you to Bucharest? Are you a local guy or something?" she asked curiously, sliding the keys into the lock and giving them a twist.

When her question was met with silence, she glanced back at him questioningly, immediately seeing the tension in his shoulders and the twitch in his jaw as he avoided her gaze. Something about the question had struck a nerve.

"Oh. I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, fully turning to face him. "I didn't mean to pry. Sometimes I ramble...you don't have to answer or anything," she told him with a shake of her head, shifting the bag from one arm to another, leaning forward to try and meet his gaze, which had wondered off back down the hallway.

He gave a small sigh, his gaze drifting back to meet her own - and she noted the beautiful shade of blue his eyes were from this close. "No. It's...alright. I'm just visiting," he told her. "I used to...live here...years ago," he offered.

"Ah. I see. Is it nice to be back?" she asked him, feeling a little curious about the man who lived across the hall from her, despite him clearly not wanting to talk about it.

He paused, gaze far away. "I don't know."

The words were uncertain, some other meaning hidden beneath them that Charlie couldn't quite place. Instead of pursuing the obviously uncomfortable topic, she offered him a small smile instead, before turning and pushing the door open with her foot. Stepping into the dim room, she reached along the wall and flipped the lights on and as she did so the sleeve of her jacket pulled up, revealing the lingering bruise from her encounter at the Hydra base. Although nowhere near as vibrant as it had been during the first few days, the skin remained an unattractive mottle of yellows and greens.

The bruise seemed to catch Bucky's attention, and he tilted his head to get a better look at it.

"How's your wrist?" he inquired.

Kicking off her shoes, she glanced down at it as she moved further into the apartment, waving him in. "It's healing up well," she informed him. "Just a minor sprain. Oh! Come on in," she said, seeing him hesitate at the doorway. When he took a slow step forward and glanced down at his own boots, she waved him off. "Don't worry about your shoes. I've got plenty of cleaning to do around here anyway," she grumbled to herself, eyeing her perpetually dirty apartment.

As he cautiously stepped into the apartment, he did his normal cursory look around, lingering on her small TV in one corner, as well as on the only small picture she had hanging on the wall. A picture of her, Lydia and Ian, all smiling goofily into the camera, cloaked in their graduation gowns.

"They're old friends of mine," she told him, smiling softly as she eyed the photo. It had been the day they'd all graduated from university. They'd been naive and happy back then, ready to take on the world, completely unaware that they were being scouted by SHIELD to join the Academy.

"I thought you said you were still studying?" he questioned softly, but she felt like there was something more pointed to his question, like he was calling her out her story.

Definitely not stupid, this one.

"I am. That was when I graduated with my Bachelor's degree a couple of years ago. Now I'm taking my Masters," she explained before rolling her eyes, heading over to the counter and depositing her bag on top. "I kinda wish I'd decided to just take a job from the get-go, instead of throwing myself back into school. It honestly never ends."

He just made a noncommittal sound in response.

Realizing that he was still holding the other bag, she moved towards him, clearing her throat. "Here I can take those from you," she offered, holding out her arms.

He nodded, stepping towards her and passing them off, before shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, glancing around the apartment curiously.

Heading to the counter, she deposited the bag on top of it, before turning back to face him. "Did you want anything to drink or maybe some chocolate chip cookies?" she asked him, "I baked a batch yesterday, so they should still be fresh if you wanted to take some with you?"

When he didn't respond, she frowned, eyeing his back. He was looking down at her coffee table, which had a bunch of books and magazines splayed out next to her laptop. His back was rigid with a tension that hadn't been there before, his shoulders hunched almost defensively.

Slowly making her way towards him, she peered around him to see what had caused him to react in such a way. Glancing up at his face, she found his jaw clenched tightly, eyes narrowed almost glaring, but clearly not quite focused on whatever he was staring at.

She followed his gaze.

He was gazing at the one of her history books about America's involvement in World War 2. The cover showed a black and white photo of Captain America giving a speech to a group of soldiers clustered around him, uniform's muddy and shoulders sagging in exhaustion. But there was nothing that could hide the expressions of awe and victory on their faces as they stared back at their hero.

Concerned, she frowned back up at his face, tentatively reaching out a hand. "Hey, are you okay-"

She'd barely brushed the material of his jacket when his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist, grip painful, threateningly, his eyes narrowing down at her.

Inhaling sharply, she froze, eyeing him warily, fleetingly glad he'd grabbed her good wrist instead of her bruised one. Although he'd reacted to her touch, she had the distinct feeling that he wasn't reacting to her. His gaze was still distant, unfocused. Sweat had broken out on the side of his face. Something about it felt oddly familiar. She'd seen symptoms like these before.

A memory from when she was still a student at the SHIELD Academy drifted back to her.

As a trainee, part of their early training had been to take psychology classes. They'd studied personality types, emotions and behaviour. As some of them were soon-to-be field agent, knowing how to deal with stress and trauma was a beneficial skill to have - and that included how to recognize and assess when other agents around them were suffering from PTSD.

Difficulty sleeping, nightmares, vivid memories and flashbacks while awake...But what triggered it? she wondered, remembering some of the symptoms, her gaze flickering down to the book cover once again.

Careful not to startle him, Charlie tried to keep perfectly still, forcing herself to relax her stance and her shoulders, trying to make herself as small as nonthreatening as possible, hoping that he would snap out of it if she gave him a moment to do so.

But after a few minutes of making no sign of doing anything, she decided to try something else.

Taking a slow breath before, she called out tentatively, keeping her voice calm and even. "Bucky?"

At the sound of his name he seemed to snap out of whatever trance he'd been in. His eyes refocused and began darting around the room, looking increasingly alarmed, as if he'd forgotten where he was and what he was doing. When his gaze landed on her, he froze, before trailing down to where he was tightly gripping her wrist, before dropping it like it had caught fire.

When he stumbled a few steps away from her, she kept perfectly still, raising her arms slowly, palms out, trying to show she meant no harm. "Hey. It's okay. You're okay," she told him, keeping her tone calm and soothing.

"I-I…" he tried to say, but his breathing seemed to be picking up speed, coming in short gasps for air, eyes still locked on hers.

"You're okay," she repeated soothingly.

Blinking rapidly, he looked down at his hand, the one that had grabbed her, and stared at it like he couldn't believe it was his own.

After a long, tense silence he spoke.

"I-I'm sorry, I...have to go," he stuttered out in a hurry as he slid around her, eyes trained on the floor as he headed for the still open door and dashed out into the dim hallway.

Blinking blankly at the spot he'd stood only seconds before, Charlie heard his door open and close with a click, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

With a sigh, she lowered her arms.

"Thanks for the help, I guess," she commented to her now empty apartment, wondering how her day had taken such a weird turn.

AN: Thanks so much for reading! What did you think of Charlie, Lucas and, of course, Bucky?

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