It turns out that flying on a jet was a hell of a lot faster, and smoother, than flying commercial. Or as a stowaway on a cargo plan. Neither of which Charlotte enjoyed, but sometimes you just have to make do. It was around 7:30am when the jet touched down on a long airstrip in the middle of a vast forest.
Both women had dozed off during the flight, the pancakes and alcohol lulling them to sleep with the hum of the engine making it nearly impossible to resist. They taxied through down the runway under the cover of the woods before entering a clearing. There was a massive hangar open before them, several different types of aircraft visible through the open garage door. This seemed to be the most corporate of the fleet, with the rest ranging from tactical to full blown heavy artillery.
Charlotte sat up in her seat, peering out the window. The nerves were hitting her for the first time. She saw a handful of uniformed men and women working in the hangar, performing maintenance on the aircrafts.
"Good morning sunshine," Natasha smiled, still tucked under a blanket.
"Morning."
"Welcome home."
When the ramp opened, an eager uniformed man scampered into the cabin. "Agent Romanoff." He saluted, waiting for her to nod before he continued. "How was the flight? Can I take your bags?"
"Don't know, I slept through most of it." She gestured to the duffel bag and small suitcase Charlotte had retrieved from the hotel before they left. "You can help Ms. Rossi with her bags."
Giving a tight-lipped smile, Charlotte followed Natasha down the steps. Unabashedly holding her heels by the straps, Nat strode across the concrete floor to a set of sleek looking doors. Doing her best to ignore the questioning glances, Charlotte kept her eyes straight ahead and followed the one person she knew into unfamiliar territory.
The doors led to a hallway with elevators to their right. The noise coming from the end let her know the hallway opened up to a larger room, one that sounded like it was already bustling with activity. To her relief, Natasha hit a button on the elevator instead of continuing towards the noise.
"I'll show you to your room first. I figured you'd want to get settled in, get cleaned up."
"Thanks," Charlotte nodded. "I think I have glitter in more places than I even knew existed. And I smell like tequila."
"There are worse things to smell like." Natasha grinned as they stepped out into another lobby area. "This is the training side of the compound. The hangars, weapons manufacturing, shooting range, training facilities, it's all over here. This is where the SHIELD agents work. It's the more…populated side." She gestured out the window at a dozen trainees jogging. "They don't live here. The only ones that do are the ones on the team."
"You mean The Avengers?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow.
"You could say that," She gave a wry smile. "I prefer to say roommates."
They stepped out into the fresh air and Nat pointed out a black ATV. The breeze felt nice on her cheeks as they drove down a paved path across the grounds. The entire thing seemed to be completely secluded, as if it were dropped in the middle of the woods. Charlotte couldn't even see the entrance to the place. They passed a few smaller buildings, which Natasha dubbed storage and "room to grow"; as well as a beautiful lake off to the left. Marveling at the fog spread across the water, she didn't realize they'd made it to their destination.
The building in front of them had a similar exterior to the last one they'd come from. It was gray, very modern looking, though smaller than the training side. This one seemed to be only three or four stories tall, but it extended out over the water with balconies jutting from the higher levels.
"This is the residential building. Most of us stay here full time, but some of us have rooms at the Tower in New York City, too. You can come next time I go up there, if you want. It's more peaceful here, though. Personal preference, I guess." She opened the door for Charlotte to walk through. "First floor is a private training facility, second is storage and a theater room, third and fourth floors are rooms, and the fifth floor is a common area, kitchen, and a meeting room."
They stepped into another elevator where Natasha punched the button for the fourth floor. "I put you on my floor. Just so you'd have a friendly face." She paused. "Although, sometimes the team can be a little too friendly in their own right. I don't see an issue with them warming up to you."
The doors slid open and they entered a small common area with doors on every side. Natasha led her to a door on the far wall and gestured for her to enter. "We can set up your keypad in a minute, everything here is print based. Some people had trouble keeping track of their keys." She rolled her eyes, but Charlotte was too enamored with the room to notice.
It was plain, just the bare bones of a room, but it was perfect. A big, king-sized bed bathed in sunlight from the window behind it. Large closet and an even bigger bathroom. She dropped her duffel bag on the floor and looked around.
"You're welcome to decorate or do whatever you want, it's all yours." Natasha smiled as she watched her take everything in. "Here, let's set up your keypad so I can give you some space. I'll leave my number, just let me know when you get bored or hungry or feel like socializing."
She closed the door behind her, leaving Charlotte to settle in.
I think this will do. She thought as she sank into the plush bedding.
"I just don't understand why you didn't tell me." Bucky grunted as he slammed his fist into the punching bag.
"I did tell you," Steve protested before being interrupted.
"No, you told me we found someone with potential HYDRA affiliation. You said the team was working on tracking her down and making contact." Bucky stopped hitting the bag to snarl his words out. "What you didn't say was 'Hey buddy, there's a chance we found someone kept in the same hellish lab as you and we're trying to get her to come shack up with us. Oh, and she may or may not have been bred to kill you.'"
Sighing, Steve sat on the bench next to the sparring ring. "I'm sorry. You're right. I just didn't know how to say it."
"You mean you didn't know how I'd take it." Fists slammed into the bag.
"Well," He raised an eyebrow. "Is that such a stretch?"
"I think I'm handling it pretty well." Bucky gave a forced smile as he stepped away from the punching bag, beginning to unwrap his right hand.
"It was my idea to keep the details under wraps," Nat's voice echoed from across the training room as she walked toward them, wet hair darkening the collar of her sweatshirt. "I didn't mean for it to seem like we were keeping things from you. There's just so much we don't know."
Bucky frowned. "Seems like there's quite a bit you do know."
"I'll tell you anything you want." She smiled, always able to walk the line between cold sarcasm and genuine warmth.
Natasha took a seat on the bench next to Steve, both of them watching Bucky as he threw the sweaty tape away. He stayed quiet for a moment, thinking.
"What's her name?"
"Charlotte. Charlotte Rossi."
"Where'd you find her?"
"Most recently, the high stakes room at the Wynn." Nat smirked. "Prior to that, I saw some patterns that caught my interest and dug a little further."
"I read the file." Bucky's face was stoic.
"Do you have any memory of her? Any recollection?"
His brows knit together, thinking. "No. I don't remember much from that…from those years. Fragments, maybe. If I saw her face it might, I don't know, might bring something back."
Steve watched his friend carefully, looking for any sign of distress. Bucky seemed calm, controlled, albeit a little strained.
"Where is she?"
"Upstairs."
Bucky nodded slowly. "She's here…for good?"
"To be determined. My offer wasn't exactly for a week's vacation." Natasha stood, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't up front with you on this. I promise not to go around you again."
"I get it." He looked at Steve. "I know I don't have the best track record for handling questionable information."
Grinning, Steve stood to join them. "What? You think throwing Sam out of a moving Quinjet because he told you he'd be leading point on the mission was an overreaction?"
Bucky ran his tongue over his teeth, suppressing a smile.
"No, totally reasonable." Nat elbowed him. "Just like when he ripped the arm off of Tony's last suit because he said Bucky's arm was a 'war relic',"
"Alright, point made," Bucky groaned, shrugging her hand off and walking towards the door.
Charlotte: is it too late for breakfast?
Natasha: I know I said there are no stupid questions…..but ;)
Charlotte: music to my ears
Natasha: meet me outside the first floor elevators in 5.
Charlotte slipped her phone back in her pocket, grinning. Thank God superheroes have a sense of humor. Well, at least one does. She made a mental note to ask if FedEx delivered to the compound, as she was in dire need of an online shopping spree. The majority of her clothes were tailored to Vegas, where she'd taken up residence the past few weeks. With the way she drifted from place to place, it wasn't uncommon for her to leave an entire wardrobe's worth of clothes in a hotel closet when she left town. For this trip in particular, she'd brought a few of her absolute favorite dresses, three sets of heels, and two designer bags she'd treated herself to after a particularly lucrative poker win.
Unfortunately, not much of her attire lent itself to casual daytime wear. She had a pair of jeans and trusty white sneakers, and luckily a plain white tank top shoved deep into her suitcase. Unless there was some kind of Avengers' gift shop on the premises, she'd be repeating this look pretty much daily.
She made her way to the elevator and when the doors slid open on the first floor, Natasha stood waiting for her. A tall, clean cut blonde man stood next to her, who Charlotte recognized instantly.
"Hi…" She stepped out cautiously as the duo grinned.
"Charlotte, you remember Steve." Nat seemed to be the most amused of all three of them. The man nodded, holding his hand out for her to shake.
"We were never officially acquainted." His handshake was firm but his eyes were kind. "Steve Rogers."
"Sorry about that," She pursed her lips. "I thought you were coming after me for my lack of patriotism."
Steve chuckled. "From what I've heard, you tried to represent our country too. Maybe we're not so different." The sharp look Natasha shot him as he referenced her Team USA mishap didn't go unnoticed. Charlotte didn't seem to take offense, simply raising an eyebrow as she carefully considered her response.
"I think I can stick a landing a little better than you." Her face was blank, but her eyes crinkled at the corners ever so slightly, an almost-smile.
"I don't doubt it." Steve smiled. "Welcome to the compound."
"Thanks." Charlotte kept her eyes on him as he led the trio through the doors.
Natasha fell into step beside her, showing her unspoken camaraderie. Years of undercover work had honed her ability to read body language and pick up on cues undetectable to anyone else. As she watched Charlotte over the past twenty-four hours, she noticed several things. She was calculated, but not cold. Her humor was dry and she kept a poker face throughout most of her interactions, hints of a smile showing through as she warmed up to someone. She was quick-witted, but seemed to think through her replies thoroughly as she decided if someone was trustworthy or not. A familiar tactic for someone who wasn't sure who they could rely on. Her persona was confident, relaxed, assured. Her body told another story.
When she stood, her posture was erect. Her weight was slightly shifted forward on her toes, like someone prepared to cut and run at any moment. She could stand still, facing the person in front of her, but her eyes would flick around to every detail happening around her. She presented herself like a predator, but her behavior was that of prey.
It made sense. She was taken, put through horrors beyond comprehension at the hands of HYDRA. Prey. She was altered, trained, brainwashed to be an elite fighter, an assassin. Predator. But now? She was somewhere in between. Not quite a predator, not quite prey.
As Natasha strode down the path towards the main building, she couldn't help but feel like even Charlotte didn't know which category she fell into.
"This is the cafe," Steve gestured when they walked into the largest building. Charlotte recognized it as another entrance to the same place they'd left earlier that morning. This was where all the noise was coming from. It was a large room, flooded with natural light from the floor-to-ceiling windows. There were two dozen circular tables in the middle of the room, most of them empty. A few had small clusters of people in navy blue windbreakers or jackets, all emblazoned with the trademark "A" of the Avengers. There was a kitchen area to the right, a long countertop spanning part of the wall. "They serve three meals here every day, it's all up for grabs. This is where all the agents and recruits eat while they're here. We have a kitchen back in our building, but unless one of us feels like cooking, there's not much more than dry cereal there."
They walked towards the kitchen, a few agents pausing as they walked through the room, looking at Charlotte over their clipboards and conversation. Natasha pulled open the door to a commercial sized refrigerator, revealing a massive selection of food. Everything from fresh fruit to Smucker's PB&J sandwiches. Eyes wide, Charlotte glanced at Natasha.
"Have at it," She nodded, grabbing an apple and biting in.
When they'd sufficiently raided the kitchen, Steve led them out another set of doors to a patio area. To the right, they could see the edge of the lake peeking around the treeline. To the left, there was an open field, the targets on the far end indicating a shooting range. Charlotte lowered her arms and let the barrage of snacks tumble onto the table.
"I didn't think superheroes ate junk food," She raised an eyebrow, pulling open a bag of mini-donuts.
"Superheroes don't, Avengers do." Nat winked and stole one from the packaging. "Plus, not all of the agents here are combat focused. There are plenty who work in the control room or in tech and engineering and don't have to give a shit about being mobile."
"Well here's to not being mobile." She held her chocolate milk in the air and the three of them toasted, just in time for a dozen agents to jog by on the path out in front of them.
Bucky stood on the path around the lake, hidden under the cover of long morning shadows. He watched as Steve raised his plastic chocolate milk into the air, appearing to cheers with the two women at the table. One was Natasha, the other he assumed was the new girl. Charlotte.
She was around Natasha's size, a little more overtly muscular. He could see her toned arms clearly thanks to the tank top she was wearing. They seemed relaxed, talking and laughing. He took a deep breath and looked down at his phone.
Five Minutes Ago
Steve: Come meet us on the patio by the range. You can meet Charlotte. We're showing her around.
Sighing, Bucky shot back a reply before shoving his phone into his pocket.
Bucky: Sorry - told Sam I'd help him with something. Next time.
He turned and resumed his run around the lake, going the opposite direction of the compound. Steve glanced up from his phone, brow furrowed, just in time to see black hair disappearing around the treeline.