Okay, I only wrote this like an hour ago and I'm exhausted. So if it sucks, or I misnamed a character, I apologize.

Lesliezin: Yeah, they've started to talk things through. There's more of that coming. I get email alerts for reviews for most reviewers, but there's some that just don't ever come through. So when this happens and I can't read the reviews on the site, it means I have to just go off the emails which I hate.

Cassouminette: Unfortunately, we won't be seeing Steve for a long time. And yes, poor Bucky. He needs a hug. A big hug.

Tiphanie: Lots and lots of fluff, and more on the horizon. But I'm fairly certain the only bad things that are going to be happening are mentally and emotionally. The physical pain is over for now.

linzeejee: They will eventually. They gotta get somewhere safe first.

Enjoy!

I had never been on a motorcycle before. The old couple we'd stayed with offered it to James, the old man saying he was going to sell it for parts anyways. It still ran, and that was all James needed. He hadn't said much to me since the night before, keeping his distance after our talk. Though, distance was hard to find on a motorcycle. But at least I didn't have to deal with awkward silences. Just the terrifying fact that if he wrecked, I would probably die. It took us about three hours to get to Romania, James taking as many back roads, and even sneaking on a private road to cross the border without any problem. He seemed to relax, being in Romania, one step closer to our goal.

He stopped in the nearest town, both of us getting supplies for the road. We had a long trip in front of us, and I knew James wasn't going to stop much. If he got his way, we'd be in Bucharest early tomorrow morning. I stopped as we passed a TV playing the news. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I could read the date.

"What is it?" James asked as he noticed I'd stopped.

"Nothing." I said, shaking my head. "It was just my birthday yesterday. Almost getting killed is one hell of a birthday present."

James didn't say anything, just looked down at the floor. I bit my lip, staring there as well as a beat passed between us.

"Did you get everything?" I asked quietly, still not looking up.

"Yeah." He said, turning and walking to the checkout.

I followed behind him, grabbing one of the bags as we walked out to the motorcycle. I shoved the one I was holding into my backpack as James shoved the other two into his. I waited for him to get on before I copied his movements, wrapping my arms around his middle. He pulled away from the store, driving out of town and off towards Bucharest.

I was right about him driving all the way there at once. It had to be past midnight. The only thing keeping me awake was the freezing cold air blowing in my face. And the fact that if I fell asleep, I could fall off the motorcycle and I'd be dead. Mountains were surrounding us, and I was grateful for the heavy jacket he'd gotten for me on one of our fuel stops. I mean, he was letting off body heat like a space heater, but the mountain air whipping over my head was still chilling me to my bones.

James didn't show any sign of stopping for the night as we got gas for probably the last time. I chugged an energy drink, trying to keep myself awake and on my feet.

"Come on, doll. We're almost there." James said, climbing back on the motorcycle.

"How much longer is 'almost?'" I asked, throwing the energy drink in the trash before climbing on behind him.

"An hour or so." He said, revving the engine before taking off.

Oh god I hoped he was right. I was starting to get sore, my wounded leg screaming from sitting on the back of a motorcycle all day. I buried my face in his shoulder, praying the hour would go by quickly, and we could get somewhere warm so I could sleep.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, there were lights shining in my face, and cars driving past us. I jerked, gripping James tighter as I took a deep breath. I hadn't fallen off the back of the motorcycle. I was fine. I was alive. We were in Bucharest and we were going to be safe. James pulled the motorcycle over, parking it on the street. I climbed off, gripping his metal shoulder as my leg almost gave out from under me.

"You okay?" He asked, steadying me.

"Yeah." I breathed, inhaling shakily as pain shot through me. "No."

"You probably tore your stitches." He said, moving me so he could climb off the motorcycle. "We're not far from the safe-house." He scanned the area. Thankfully there weren't many people out this late. "I'll fix it there."

He wrapped his arm around my waist, throwing mine around his shoulders as we walked down the sidewalk. Well, he walked, I kinda limped/dragged behind him. This was becoming a normal thing for us. Him dragging me along with him. Literally.

The building looked abandoned. That was the first thing that came to mind when I saw it. It was strategically placed though, and at least it wasn't rotting. James practically carried me up the steps, up and up and up. He finally stopped at a door, pulling a key from his pocket before opening it.

The inside was dirty, covered in a thick layer of dust, but it was decent sized. A small kitchen in the corner with a fridge, two other doors, that I assumed led out to a balcony. Plus another door which I assumed led to the bathroom. James flipped a switch, a light turning on. Electricity. Something else I had taken for granted.

"Electricity, running water. It's not much, but it's safe."

"You're sure?" I asked as he walked to the center of the room.

"Yes. For now. I'll get a new lock later. It needs a few updates too."

"Like furniture." I said, looking around the empty space. "And food."

"I'll see what I can find later." James said, clearing a space on the floor with an old shirt of mine. "It'll be home for a while."

He helped me sit on the floor before joining me, pulling the first aid kit from my backpack. I shimmied out of my pants, rolling over so I was laying on my stomach. James was gentle as he pulled the gauze from my wound.

"You didn't tear them." He said, feeling around the edges. "But they are a bit irritated. I'll pick up some ointment later." He said before tossing his backpack towards the wall. "Right now, you need to sleep."

"You're one to talk, Mister 'I-Haven't-Slept-In-Days." The look on his face made me shut up.

But nonetheless, he stretched out on the floor, leaning his head against his backpack. I shimmied back into my jeans before copying his movements, laying down next to him.

"It needs some serious TLC." I said, staring at the cracked ceiling. "But if you pick up some cleaning supplies, I can take a crack at getting it fixed up. At least to a point. You do maintenance and I'll do housekeeping." I murmured before drifting off to sleep.

James laid there for quite a while. Olivia had long fallen asleep mid sentence. He wasn't surprised, as she had fallen asleep on the motorcycle. He'd held on to her to keep her steady as he drove, not wanting to lose her when they were so close.

He was able to breathe a semi sigh of relief, being in the safe-house. Sure, it was old, dirty and hadn't been used in decades, but it was the start of something new for both of them. Something safe. Somewhere they could heal.

He'd need to replace the locks on the doors, and cover the windows. He'd need to get them a bed and at least a table. Maybe a couch. Make it seem normal. Plus Olivia would probably have an aneurysm if he slept on the floor. He'd need to replace faucets, check out the pipes, see if they still worked. He was amazed the light bulbs still worked. He'd need to get food and water. Maybe if Olivia was feeling up to it, he could send her to do that while he worked on securing the safe-house. The building was almost completely abandoned, but her father's money kept the lights on, and he'd ensured it would stay that way before they left D.C. Sure, he felt a little bad about keeping that much from her, but he hadn't found it important at the time.

He watched her sleep until the sun was rising, and he deemed it time to get up. He'd only laid down so she wouldn't complain at him. He wanted her to sleep, to get some rest. He tugged on a baseball cap, checking Olivia one last time before heading out to get the first round of supplies for their new home.