Boom! On time! Yassssss!

Not much to say about this chapter, it's more of a filler, character exposition and the like. Some fun, slightly exaggerated fight scenes and everything.

I want to say thank you to the folks who have been favoriting/following this story, because I honestly start smiling like a major dorkatron whenever I get a notification saying that someone else jumped aboard… like really though, the expression on my face terrified my roommates the first time it was awesome. And of course a big thank you to you guys that have been with me since the beginning!

Basically thank you to everyone who actually takes the time out of your lives to read this because I'm so glad that you actually think it's worth it.

So much love for you people. All of the love, keep up the good work.

And as per usual, don't own anyone recognizable, all for fun, construct more pylons and the like.

Adara.

Chapter Seven:

April 06, 2009, Location: East Side, Glasgow, Scotland

"Listen here, you little shit." On most days, normal days, Nicole Dugan considered herself to be a reasonable person. Granted, most days she wasn't handcuffed to a chair in an abandoned warehouse in the slums of Glasgow with a busted open lip. "I'm going to give you one last chance to cooperate before things get ugly. Let me go now, give me the names of the people who hired you and we can call it a night."

Magnus Patterson just smirked down at her, taking a long drag from his cigarette. Actually, it was hers and simply requisitioned from the equipment that had been taken upon her capture. Right now her things were neatly arrayed on a small cart; her cellphone, wallet, and purse as well as a battered pack of Marlboro's, two short throwing knives and her pistol. Nicole watched as the dark haired man picked up one of the blades, twisting it through his fingers.

"And why would I do that? I have you completely at my mercy, darling." A hand fisted in her hair, pulling it back as the knife pressed tight against her throat. The metal bit against her skin just enough to send a bead of crimson on a gravity driven path down her neck. The message was clear, she supposed; it would only require a fraction of energy to cut her throat.

Granted, Nicole had been trained for this situation so she was less concerned than perhaps wise.

"Is that really what you think? You're waiting for backup and I just want my answers before I have to kill you." Patterson had been a run of the mill criminal; it wasn't the money laundering that had drawn SHIELD's attention, or the meth lab that was tucked away in the back corner of their base of operations. Those were standard and typically they'd be more than willing to let the police handle things. But when word had gotten out of bigger fish in the sea, information and weaponry going missing only to show up at inopportune locations… it was time for intervention.

What had begun as an undercover mission for information was rapidly approaching its end in a secluded building in the middle of an unwanted area. People here didn't care if your neighbor was selling drugs or if a woman ended up dead two streets down. The utility of this place was that out here, nobody could hear you scream.

But that road went both ways.

Patterson pulled back, lips drawing back into a snarl that revealed yellowing teeth and the stench of smoke. Not that she could exactly say much; after a few hours packed in a sweaty club Nicole wasn't exactly the most pleasantly smelling herself. "It is a shame that I will have to kill you."

He exchanged the knife for her gun, flipping off the safety and checking the chamber. "You were such a pretty thing too."

Nicole gripped the back of the chair in both hands, jumping to her feet and—using all of the forward momentum—running towards Patterson. The man tried to back away at her approach but Nicole was moving too fast and tightening muscles that had undergone years of rigorous training she jumped into a front flip. The legs of the wooden chair slammed into the man, knocking him back with a spray of blood as his nose broke and sending her crashing to the ground. The strain of her weight and the force of gravity against the flimsy wood had it splintering when she went slamming downward, jabbing pieces of debris into her back. The sparkling black sequins of her dress tore at that and Nicole bounced back up with a glare that could melt through steel.

"I told you, I want names." She growled, handcuffs dangling from her otherwise unimpaired hands, carrying herself forward and grabbing the back of his head. Diplomacy was her preferred method of negotiation, but the redhead also appreciated the value of a little brute force.

"Who. Are. Your. Suppliers?" Each word was punctuated by her beating his head into the wall, before she tightened her hold to snarl into his bloody face. "Answer and I won't kill you."

There were a great many things that could contribute to Patterson's sudden cooperation at that moment; brain trauma from being used to bludgeon a wall was a strong possibility. A sincere belief in her threat—it was somewhat empty, she most likely wouldn't kill him—or perhaps the realization of what a hopeless situation he was in. Of course, the fact that her eyes had gone from dark brown to blazing orange probably had a lot to do with it. At least that was what she was betting her money on.

"Y—you won't kill me. You need information." He stammered, making the woman grimace in annoyance as she went about returning her things to her purse.

"I need names, Mr. Patterson. And if you're not willing to give them to me you are of absolutely no use." Came the frosty response, point driven home when she turned her weapon onto him. "So I would recommend you get real chatty with me sweetheart."

Hazel eyes flicked from the gun to her expressionless face and back before Patterson swallowed thickly. "V—Vanchat. He's the one that's been buying up information and weaponry. You've got to protect me from him, h—he'll kill me if he finds out I rolled."

She checked her watch, gaze slipping to the door. "SHIELD thanks you for your cooperation Mr. Patterson. We're going to get in your car now and—"

Her words were cut off by the sound of a cracking window, the only warning she had before blood sprayed across her dress and Magnus Patterson fell to the ground. The redhead snapped her attention to the entry point, one broken window out of a number of them. It was the only warning she had before she was swarmed with gun fire on all sides and people running in trying to kill her.

"Pour l'amour du ciel, pourquoi c'est toujours moi!" She muttered to herself, dodging behind an upturned table. There was absolutely no way that she was going to be able to escape cleanly, not without taking a few hits herself. And with this mission not supposed to have ended in a fire fight, her extraction plan was practically nonexistent.

An idea dawned on Nicole as she twisted her head to look back at the dirty chemical equipment assembled in the back corner. There were two things she knew for certain about the outcome of her next course of actions; she was going to need a new set of clothes and Fury was going to kill her.

"No time like the present." First she would need better cover, such as the small room missing a door that served as the office area of the floor layout. Main problem? There were about twenty people between it and her.

Nicole pushed up into a crouch, her arm throwing in a wide gesture that created a wall of blue cored flame between her and Vanchat's men. Above the sound of people actively trying to kill her she could hear a few shouts of surprise and even more shrieks of pain by those caught in the fire. But she couldn't focus on that, not if she wanted to make it out of this place alive, and then the woman was running for her dear life wearing a blood stained, sequined party dress and clutching a beaded bag to her chest. As soon as her outstretched hand brushed across the edge of the wall Nicole made a jabbing motion in the direction of the equipment. It felt… it felt like heat rippling through her arm towards her fingertips in perfect sync with the motion, disappearing as soon as the half-moon shaped wave of fire went soaring.

The resounding explosion sent Nicole slamming into the far wall, tucking her head underneath her arms as the whole place went up in flame. She let the fire wash over her, feeling her dress burning slightly even though her hair and skin remained intact and it wasn't until she was sure everyone was either dead or gone that the woman dared to lift herself up.

Thirty minutes later she was back in her hotel room, listening to May explain to her just how much paperwork she was going to have to sign now.

IOI

September 03, 2011, Location: 19th Street, Brooklyn NY

"Fucking damnit." Stupid kid had to go and bring up Glasgow, didn't he? Now Nicole couldn't seem to keep the memory of the mission out of her mind. It hadn't been the worst she'd ever gone on, but it had been one of her earlier missions. The first one that she'd done solo.

And like she'd been expecting, Fury had been absolutely pissed that she'd resorted to using her powers. All things considered, at least she'd been able to make it plausibly look like an accident. They'd caught Vanchat, but without enough substantial evidence couldn't convict him and had been forced to let the bastard go. It hadn't gone the way she'd been hoping, but most of the agents were pleased at how many of his people had been taken out and the fact that the police had no suspicion of SHIELD's involvement.

It hadn't gone as planned, it hadn't went down the way Nicole had hoped, but it was over and done with. Except people still liked to bring it up and brag about it from time to time, such as Agent Fisher.

Nicole threw her pen down onto her desk, pulling her feet off of the surface so that she could sit up straight. It was pushing past one in the morning, and by all means she should be asleep but… her eyes landed on the notebook in her hands, where it was resting between her knees. She had been compiling information for Steve in regards to his old teammates. He had expressed an interest in finding out about them after Dr. Cross had promised to clear him for light duty if he spoke to them, and since last Friday she'd been busy as a bee making phone calls and getting in contact with family members to dig up as much as she could about them.

That had included a lot of calls to her grandfather, who was currently spending some R&R time with her mom in Georgia. The anniversary party was coming up soon, which would bring all of her family down to their house in Atlanta, or surrounding hotels Nicole included, ideally. She had a thought about that, actually, both Papou and Gabe would be there for the anniversary party, so she could always bring Steve with her. Then again, it would be a hugely crowded event—whereas her family was restricted to only herself, her grandpa, aunt, uncle and a couple of cousins, Jack had a lot of siblings—and that might create a sensory overload on her friend.

It was something that they would talk about in the morning.

If he wanted to give it a shot, well, Nicole would kill for some distraction from her family. Even if it was only someone to sic all of her aunts on because if another one of them asked why she hadn't found a sweet guy to settle down with she would go to jail. They meant well, but after her last failed relationship Nicole was not in the mood to explain—again—the reason why she felt the urge to focus on her work at the moment.

Trying to stave off that particular headache, the purple haired woman pulled open the top drawer of her desk. Pushing around a roll of duct tape, some index cards and a few books she retrieved one of a great many sets of headphones that she owned and plugged them into her laptop. Putting the ends into her ears Nicole turned on her music, blasting it at almost 100% as she turned her attention back to the notebook. From what she'd found, her grandpa and uncle Gabe were the only ones left from the Howling Commandoes; Colonel Phillips had—unsurprisingly—passed away but Peggy Carter was still alive. According to her great niece Sharon, or Agent 13 as she was more commonly referred to, the woman was suffering from a bad case of dementia.

Nicole had addresses, next of kin, everything Steve could possibly need to find and connect with the people he needed to. Which meant that technically she had done all she could in that regard and could finally go to bed. Except her brain was still wired, every time her eyes drifted shut for even the quickest of seconds she recalled the taste of vaporized blood, and she now had loud, angry music screaming into her eardrums.

So she did what any normal, well adjusted, human being would do… tossing the notebook onto the desk, she made a cup of tea and started playing Oblivion on her computer to get ready for the upcoming release of their new game. The game was really rather quite fun, and cathartic in a way that it allowed her to run around stealing the clothes off of villagers' backs before she set them on fire.

I'm walkin' these train tracks, tryin' to regain back
The spirit I had 'fore I go back to the same crap
To the same plant, in the same pants
Tryin' to chase rap, gotta move ASAP…

Nicole was halfway through destroying Hammerfell, her head bobbing in time with the beat, when she realized that there was someone watching her. Her first instinct was to throw something, but as soon as she felt that precognitive prickle on the back of her neck every muscle just sort of tensed up. Until she realized that, no, nobody was trying to kill her and it was just Steve standing in the doorway of her room rubbing his eyes and looking like he just woke up.

"What can I do for you, blondie?" She asked, pausing her game and pulling the headphones out of her ears as she swiveled to face him.

Steve shoved a hand through his hair, trying to restore some semblance of order to the tousled strands. "I…" His voice came out hoarse and gravelly from sleep, but underneath that there was something almost raw about the tones. "Woke up and was going to get a glass of water. Saw your light on and thought I'd see what you were up to?"

As he took a step further into the room the desk lamp cast soft shadows across his face, almost disguising the fact that his eyes were rimmed with red.

I had another nightmare, and wanted someone to talk to. Steve didn't outright say those words, but Nicole heard them anyway and, propping her chin up on one hand, used the other to wave him into the room.

"Well, if I were a responsible human being I would be asleep. However, I'm just playing a computer game." She answered brightly. "And trying to shatter my eardrums."

"You're setting people on fire." Steve noted dryly, losing whatever remains of sleep he had. Nicole scoffed at that, muting the sound from her laptop as she studied him fully.

"Yeah, well, only after I robbed them all first." She answered brightly, causing a twitch that could almost be considered a smile. "But it's not important, really, because I already beat the game. So what's up? Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Do you?" The blonde pressed, perching himself on the edge of her bed—it had actually been made in between the last time she woke up and now—and wrapping his fingers around one another.

Nicole blinked in surprise at that question, surprise that quickly shifted into confusion, and then concern as she turned her most innocent smile at him. "What do you mean?"

She had been feeling off lately, that was true, she hadn't used her powers for more than a couple of cheap parlor tricks in more than a few months and her life had gotten more stressful than usual. Especially with their upcoming trip to DC—that they still hadn't planned the date for—something that Nicole was definitely not looking forward to. There were reasons that she liked to avoid the area, she had hated living in DC, especially between missions and those times where she didn't have to report to the Triskelion regularly. Reasons that were still listed as unexplained on her public records, people that had had their lives changed in the worst possible way because of her.

But she had thought she'd been doing her absolute best to keep Steve from noticing that; he had enough on his plate to deal with, there was no reason to drudge up her problems as well. And damnit, Nicole Dugan was an agent of SHIELD, she focused on diplomacy and charm to get what she needed so it shouldn't be hard to project a mask that said everything was fine. It was what she had been doing for almost all of her life, lying so that everybody believed she was okay.

Of all the things Loki had taught her over the years, it was the one she used every day.

"Something's wrong. It's upsetting you, I can see it." There was something fierce in those words, something daring her to call him a liar.

This was one of the things that she would look back at and be able to recognize as a turning point in their friendship. Not because she told him the truth and explained why she was feeling so anxious lately—she definitely didn't do that—but because she lied.

"I'm fine, Steve. I… it's something that happened a long time ago, that I should have gotten over already." One truth and two lies; the fact was that it had happened a long time ago, when she was six, but it was one of those things that a person shouldn't ever really be able to get over. It wasn't something that she had ever gotten over, and it wasn't fine. Because they would drive through that city and Nicole wouldn't be able to help but think about what had happened at that school; what she had done.

And Steve knew that she was lying; try as she might there was no way that Nicole would be able to convince someone like Steve Rogers to believe a lie that she couldn't even commit to. It was blatantly obvious in those sky blue eyes that he saw right through her, in the way his jaw clenched so that the muscle jumped before he relaxed his face with a sigh.

"Alright." He answered after a moment, pressing his hands against his knees. "But… look, I know you've been doing a lot. Putting up with me, and everything. You've been a good friend Nicole so I just want you to know that the street goes both ways. When you're ready."

And that was the moment that Nicole knew that the dynamics of their friendship had changed; they had moved past that two month period of testing the waters and settled into something more comfortable. That they knew when they were lying to each other, and they let it slide because that meant they weren't ready to deal with the real problem.

At some point she would tell Steve the truth, all of it, every up and down not out of any sense of obligation—though he did deserve to know what he was living with—but because for the first time in more years than she cared to think about, she found herself trusting another person. She trusted that he wouldn't just start making accusations, or try and hold the information over her head but he would listen and… well if not accept who she was, at least they would know where they stood.

"Thank you. And… when I'm ready." The words falling off of her lips felt more like a promise than anything else, and Nicole was surprised at how sincere they were.

That promise turned out to be all Steve needed, because he leaned forward slightly and made a gesture to the notebook that had been discarded and almost completely forgotten about. "That the research you've done so far?"

"Among other things." She confirmed, flipping past the pages filled with chemical compounds, research ideas, and sketches of dragons fighting dinosaurs, to where she had started her list. "Here, if you want to take a look."

Steve scanned over her curly handwriting, eyes tracing over the ink marks and most likely committing them to memory. There were only one or two instances where he had to go back and reread a line or two, a few words that he stumbled over and needed deciphered, but for the most part the blonde was completely silent. Nicole watched somewhat anxiously, picking up on the tension of his features and the weight that filled his eyes. On instinct, and to offer what comfort she could, the purple haired woman grabbed the candy dish full of skittles and held it out silently.

"No thanks." Steve responded quietly, voice heavy with unspoken words as he forced himself to gently close the notebook and pass it over. "So it's just Dum Dum, Gabe and…"

He had trouble over that last name, catching himself and clenching his jaw again.

"Yeah." Nicole answered quietly, pausing to take some of the red candies and push them around her palm. "Uh, well, like Trip said before Gabe is down in Georgia and… well, my mom's anniversary is at the end of September, the twenty eighth to be specific, but they're having their party the weekend before that and my grandpa is going to be there. So is Gabe for that matter."

He watched her pop a few of the candies into her mouth silently, a ponderous look on his face. Nicole just chewed into them, breaking the outer shell, before continuing. "It's gonna be a pretty big event; Jack's got a lot of family that live in the area, but I'm going to be down there anyway."

"Jack?" He asked, making her roll her eyes. That would be what he picked up on.

"He's my step-dad. He and my mom got married ten years ago now, when I was fifteen. He's a nice guy, a sports reporter." She plucked up another handful of skittles, tossing them into her mouth without distinction. "He's somewhere in the middle of eight, all of them girls but two, and everyone married with their own brood of kids. Except for Uncle Charlie, he's sort of the stereotypical crazy uncle I love him so much. And then on my mom's side it's only her, gramps, and my uncle Mark. He's married to my aunt Ellen, they have a couple of kids. One's my age-ish, Kate, and the other one is just a little thing about to turn four." Nicole loved talking about her family, as crazy as they could be from time to time.

"That's a big family." Steve frowned slightly then, a contemplative look knitting his brows together. "I don't know, I don't want to intrude on your family event."

"Oh… oh no, sweetie." She urged with a slight laugh. "You would not be intruding in the slightest. See, you're mistaking my motives as being completely altruistic which they are definitely not. You'd be coming as a distraction and friend as much as to help you out."

At his quirked eyebrow the woman tugged her laptop shut and rubbed her nose. "Yeah I mean you'll be going to talk with Gabe and my Grandpa, but that would be way before the party. I'm taking a week off to go see my mom and help out. But what I really need is another person with me because of my aunts."

"Your aunts?" He asked curiously, the barest of amusement evident in his eyes.

"They keep trying to set me up with people, especially since it's been a couple of years since my last relationship. And if I have you with me, then they won't bother me nearly as much!" Nicole crossed one leg over the other, lifting her chin off of her hand. "Not that I'm saying you have to pretend to be my boyfriend or anything! I haven't done that since high school. No I'll tell them that we're just friends and they'll read into it however they want. You don't have to do anything except be yourself and possibly answer some uncomfortable questions, though that's more a perk than an actual requirement."

"Oh thank goodness." Steve drawled sarcastically. "Because no offense, but I don't think you're my type."

Nicole looked hurt for about a second and a half before her brain registered his tone, and she tossed a piece of candy at his head. "Shut up, blondie, or I'll set you up with my Mama Josie… she's roughly your age and I bet she can take you for a spin."

Steve laughed at that, picking up the green skittle and tossing it back at her. "If you're gonna treat me like that, I don't know if I want to go with you."

Rolling her eyes she caught the candy in her mouth before smirking over at him. "So you wanna come? You'll probably get to learn all sorts of embarrassing things about me… such as when I went through that grunge phase."

Steve smiled at her, his expression becoming more relaxed and open throughout the course of their conversation. "Yeah, I'll come. If you're sure I won't be too much of a bother."

"Nah, we're from the south Rogers! At least, me and my mom are anyway, but the point is that hospitality is our forte." She assured him with a slight shrug. "I'll have to call my mom and let her know I'm bringing a spare. And not to kill. There will be no killing of the spares."

"Huh?" He cocked his head curiously at her reference, making Nicole sigh.

"Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire; Harry and Cedric—the spare—get transported to a cemetery for a dark ritual to resurrect the Dark Lord Voldemort and…" He was completely lost, they hadn't gotten to those movies—or books—yet, but Steve was valiantly trying to follow along. "It's from a movie. We'll get to it, but it's not really important."

Steve nodded at that, and they sat there in a comfortable silence as the blonde puzzled through his thoughts. His expression turned inward, mouth opening before shutting again in a display that—while reminisce of a fish out of water—Nicole recognized as someone with a question that they weren't sure how to ask.

"Something on your mind, Rogers?" The purple haired woman asked lightly, leaning back in her chair as her eyes snuck over to the clock on her night stand.

It was already one-thirty.

"I… It just occurs to me that I don't really know too much about you. I mean, even after two months I've only learned a few things." He muttered after a moment, gaze kept studiously away from her face. "Not that I'm expecting your life history or—"

"No, you're right." Nicole pursed her lips as she realized that she really hadn't told him much. "Which is kind of unfair if you think about it so I'll tell you what; ask away, I'm an open book. Mostly."

"You sure?" Those blue eyes locked on her in surprise, and Nicole suspected that Steve had probably figured she was going to close up or say something vague.

"Well," Her nose wrinkled slightly as she chewed on her lower lip. "Let's avoid talking about my missions but other than that, yeah. I'm open to answering questions. Friendship building, right? Want to paint each other's toenails?"

"I think I'm good." He replied dryly, shaking his head. "I… okay, well, why do your aunts keep trying to set you up with people?"

"Ha. Go big or go home, I guess. I met my ex-boyfriend a year out of college, and things were getting kind of serious. I took him to meet the fam and Drew hit things off really well with them, they all loved him. But things did not end well, and afterwards I decided to just focus on my work." Nicole shook her head bitterly, thinking back to how upset her aunt Cathy had been. "Well, most of Jack's family leans more to the traditional side of things, and I think they're ready for me to get married and start popping out babies which, no."

They meant well, and for the most part they'd come to understand the fact that Nicole really wasn't looking for romance… especially considering the news she'd received at the beginning of the summer.

"Why didn't it work out?" Steve paused, a small splash of color rising to his cheeks. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

"Oh you should have seen me when it first happened; nobody could stop me from telling the story." Nicole took a deep breath, grasping for the right words. "In the thirties and forties, for the most part people were heterosexual; one boy, one girl, that was the societal norm. Of course there were different sexualities during that time, but they weren't nearly as accepted as they are now, or as well understood. I identify as demisexual; I only feel sexually attracted to someone after forming a deep emotional bond with them, and for Drew… well, that wasn't happening as quickly as he'd liked so we broke up."

Nicole grimaced at that, making a quick amendment. "No, okay, that wasn't the main reason we broke up. At least, it wasn't to me. It was a significant issue and I don't blame him for being upset about it, we'd been together for a year and a half and he's definitely on the sexual side of the spectrum. The argument stemmed from a lack of communication between both of us, there was fault on both sides."

"Isn't it common to not want to do that with someone you're not close to though? At least it was." She smiled at her friend then, rolling her shoulder and wincing at the loud pop.

"To want to have sex? Usually, yeah though there are people much less inhibited about their bodies than they used to be. But there's a difference between being sexually attracted to someone and actually wanting to have sex with them. Like, for some you just see a banging brunette walking down the road and you think she's gorgeous. You may be sexually attracted to her, it can be instantaneous, but you don't actually expect to have sex with her. Or him, I suppose. It doesn't really matter to me what you find attractive." She explained, stretching slightly.

"I see…" The thoughtful expression was back again. "So he wanted to, but you didn't?"

Nicole nodded, flicking her hands in an absent gesture. "Drew and I had a lot of problems, really. There was a lot I didn't tell him, he wanted to be more emotionally open than I did, and we were both stressing out over work and just getting out of college. So we were going to break up at some point anyway, things had just gotten too comfortable and neither of us really wanted to change. By the time we actually got around to discussing the reason why we hadn't had sex yet, we were both looking for an excuse to bow out."

She still remembered throwing the glass at the kitchen wall of her apartment, the fragments landing on the floor as they both shouted at each other until they were blue in the face. "Things were said that should not have been said. I handled it very immaturely."

It had to be the most that Nicole had ever actually talked about herself to Steve before, and as the words kept pouring out of her mouth she felt oddly comfortable about it. "The really unfortunate thing was that if I'd just vocalized more of my problems, you know, actually talked to him I think we could have parted on friendly terms. So don't let anyone tell you that it's always the guy that's the problem; I was definitely the asshole in that breakup."

"But!" She added, "I learned from it and I've since worked through a lot of communication issues. Mostly because my job requires it, but also for, you know, personal reasons. Now that we've got that off of the table, what next?"

Steve decided to play it safe after that question, asking her some very basic demographic questions; what it was like having a teacher for a mom—horrible—what her favorite color was, her preferred hobbies, and what she had studied in college—purple, video games, reading and the internet, and biochemistry. Then he asked why she'd gone through Operations to become a field agent if she'd wanted to become a biochemist.

Nicole had to dodge around that answer; she'd looked into biochemistry to try and figure out more about her abilities, though her first intention had been to apply to the Academy of Sci-Tech. Instead she'd switched out to Ops mainly—at least, this is what she told Steve—because she wanted to be a field agent like her grandpa. If he'd caught onto her hesitation he didn't react, and they swapped questions back and forth for a few more hours.

For the most part Nicole asked Steve either confirm or debunk some of the stories she had been told as a kid. It turned out that they did not sneak into a HYDRA base undercover dressed as women—which she had long since suspected was a lie because her grandpa could not pull off eye shadow to save his life. She also learned that when he first freed the would-be Howling Commandoes he tried to assure them by claiming to have knocked out Hitler over two hundred times. That had tears of laughter streaming out of her eyes, trying to imagine how anyone could even respond to that statement.

And then she asked him a little bit about before he'd been given the serum.

"I had to have been around seven years old, just got the all clear to go back to school after a really nasty cold, and on my first day back I was already picking a fight on the playground." He explained, a nostalgic smile on his face. "The kid was a couple grades higher than me, he was ten I think, and double my size. I'm a mess on the pavement, bleeding and bruised when suddenly I hear someone call out to us."

Nicole was listening avidly, legs crossed on her chair and a pillow held on her lap. "Was it Bucky?"

"Yeah," A sad smile crossed Steve's face then, pain lancing across his features as he swallowed. "He comes out looking well pressed and all clean, hair combed and everything, and just looks at Pete. 'It's a big man that can beat up a sick kid half his size, asshole.' He said, just rolling his sleeves up. 'But let's see if you can pick on someone your own size.'"

"I thought he was gonna get clobbered just like me; Buck was big sure but Pete was a monster of a kid. He went to swing and then Bucky just… he just wasn't there. All it took was one punch, right to the nose, to send the kid running home to his ma." Steve scratched absently at his jaw. "I remember I was just looking up at him trying to catch my breath when he helped me up. 'If your stupid ass is determined to get yourself killed, kid, someone had better look out for you.' We were friends ever since."

There was something lost, hurting on his face then but Steve gave a self-deprecating shrug and looked up at her tiredly. "Anyway, that's how we met and—"

Before he could finish that sentence Nicole was launching off of her chair and pulling him into a tight hug. She felt Steve tense up against her, no doubt he wasn't exactly used to people tackling him with affection, but after a few unsure moments she could feel his arms wrap around her and squeeze back. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks." He murmured, leaning into the embrace. "H—have you ever lost someone close to you?"

Nicole pulled back slightly at that question, leaning her head against his shoulder as her gaze fixed on a bracelet sitting on the top shelf of her desk. It was gold, with an old Nordic pattern etched into it that always reminded her of a dragon. "Yeah. One of the first friends I made when I moved down to Georgia died in May. He and his… brother were fighting and he fell. His mom told me what had happened, and right after I was given an assignment so I couldn't really grieve or anything until it was over."

Because as soon as she'd found out what had happened to Loki, Stark had his little showdown with Vanko in Malibu and then she'd been sent out to run interference between Banner and Ross. Everything had been a headache after that, and once it was over Nicole had been given two weeks off to recuperate. And by recuperate she meant get shit-faced drunk, sob through her feelings before pushing everything back in place so that she was fine when she returned to work. Because it wasn't like she could ask for some extra time because her Asgardian friend died. Fury had no idea that she knew Thor or his brother, and she suspected that after what had happened in New Mexico he would not be pleased to discover her involvement.

Steve offered a comforting squeeze at that, his body leaning against hers like a warm wall of support. "Shit… I guess we're both kind of fucked up in that regard."

Those words made her laugh slightly, elbowing him gently in the ribs. "We could start a club, make matching t-shirts. I know some people that would be more than willing to join."

After that admission their conversation returned to lighter topics, and Nicole was in the middle of telling him about the time she'd almost gotten arrested in Guatemala, only to avoid the police force by pretending that she couldn't speak Spanish, or English when her jaw cracked open in a huge yawn. And as contagious as yawns were, Steve let loose one of his own until they were both sitting there with their mouths open trying to do the perfect impression of a whale.

And that was when Nicole decided it was time to go to bed.

"Alright, I'm calling it in for the night; I can barely keep my eyes open and you look ready to drop." Steve blinked sleepily at those words, turning his attention to her clock and the bright red letters across the display.

"Wow." He dipped his head sheepishly, "I had no idea it was so late. I'm sorry for keeping you up."

She swatted lightly at his arm as he got up, a tired smile on her face. "It's absolutely no problem. That's what friends are for and all that jazz. But, before I forget to tell you, I got an email back from Dr. Pisani about the Smithsonian Exhibit. He said that we just need a date and he'll clear his schedule for us. And I got a call from the Triskelion; they were able to recover some more of your things."

"Uh… I guess the sooner we take care of that the better. When are we heading down to your parents?" He speared his hand through his hair again, pushing the strands out of his face as his eyes focused on her face.

"Their anniversary is the twenty eighth, which is a Wednesday but they're having the dinner the Saturday before hand so that there are less work conflicts. I believe that I put in leave for the sixteenth, and then we should be coming back on the following Monday. Any time before the sixteenth or after the twenty sixth we should be good." She answered, double checking the dates in her mind.

"Okay… would this upcoming Tuesday work? I imagine there will be less people there during the weekdays than on a weekend." The purple haired woman nodded vigorously at that, scribbling the date down on a sticky pad next to her bed.

"Tuesday, got it. I'll call those people back." A thought occurred to her then, and she rolled back over to face Steve. "Okay, last question and then you can go. Do you wanna get a hotel while we're up there and stay the night? That way we don't lose eight hours of the day in a car ride, maybe see the sights?"

"Would that be alright? I don't want you to have to spend the money." Because Steve came from a time where they'd had to save every cent of what they made, and frivolous spending probably was a concept that he couldn't wrap his head around.

"Pfft, nah." She scoffed sleepily. "All I have to do is fill out the right paperwork and SHIELD will cover the cost. So long as it somehow relevantly pertains to you—and we don't do anything crazy—we should be fine."

All she would really have to do is justify the trip to Phil—easy as shit—and they'd be good to go.

"I… if you want to." A shy smile curved the corner of his lips. "It would be nice to get the chance to look around."

Nicole gave a very sloppy salute, flopping back into the neatly arrayed pillows and blankets that would most definitely become a mess by morning. "It shall be done."

Steve rapped once on the frame of her door. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Mmm." Came the unintelligible response. She wasn't sure if it had been the conversation, the late hours, or finally just getting the opportunity to vocalize some of the things that had been weighing her down but when Nicole pulled the blankets up to her chin and let her eyes drift shut she fell right to sleep.

That hadn't happened in quite a long time.

IOI

Translations:

Pour l'amour du ciel, pourquoi c'est toujours moi!For the love of God, why is it always me?