It was the ass crack of dawn.

The hot coffee cup burned her hand as Charlotte stood in the Quinjet hangar, preparing to see her friends off for their mission. It was the first live action they'd seen in quite some time, the result of significant seismic activity from the other world tripping some of the sensors at the compound and piquing the team's attention enough for them to want to check it out. After a day of heavy intelligence vetting and briefings, they were ready to take to the skies.

The sun's earliest rays weren't even close to breaching the horizon at this hour. Charlotte wasn't even sure why she woke up to see them off. She hadn't gone to any of the mission intelligence meetings all week, despite the open invitation. After insisting she didn't want to be a member of the team, it seemed counterintuitive. The lines were admittedly blurred, seeing as she trained with them in combat simulations almost every day of the week. The SHIELD agents weren't nearly a challenge for her, and the team was almost…too much of one. Over the past few weeks, she'd obliged Bucky. She'd been working with him on the side, learning skills she couldn't just mimic.

He'd taught her everything he knew about weaponry, dating back to the first war he fought in. Charlotte wasn't sure why they had antiques like that on the property at all, but she supposed it was helpful to know. After a week, she knew how to load, unload, clean, and fire just about every weapon on the entire compound. Bucky's favorite had been the long range sniper arsenal, something she wouldn't have guessed. Someone who was so skilled at hand to hand combat, preferring to take his shot from being hidden in the woods. Ironically, that would probably end up being her position should she ever go into a live mission. It would allow her to use her precision and heightened senses without putting her body at the same risk as hand to hand would. They both seemed to acknowledge that, so they spent extra time on sniper training. When it was all said and done, she could shoot an apple out of Peter's hand while he swung across the lake from half a mile away. Even Bucky looked impressed.

They'd gone over other languages, he taught her the three he knew. She took it upon herself to learn a fourth, pulling an all-nighter out of spite after their lesson the previous day ended in an argument. While that wasn't uncommon for them, it still filled her with rage and a bitter desire to tell him to go to hell. Which she did, by showing up the following day having perfected the three languages he was teaching her and an additional one, making her the second most fluent on the team behind Natasha. No one really even knew all the languages she spoke.

Lately, it had been a mix of strategy and intelligence. They'd go through mission plans and "intercepted" intelligence, and work through coming up with a team strategy. For someone who never seemed to want a leadership role on the team, it was clear that it came naturally to him. There was more to it than she ever thought, this type of training made her feel the most naive. She'd come up with an entire strategy, only for Bucky to immediately point out the flaw that would get half her team killed. She always thought she was smart, but when it boiled down to it, she'd always been able to memorize or mimic her way through difficult situations. Even back in the casino, she wasn't Rainman. She just memorized the rules and executed basic strategy, increasing her bets when it was favorable. In battle or mission strategy, there was no one to copy. Nothing to memorize. No rules or guidelines or anything to help her along the way. She had to learn to reason, to think through every outcome in a split second, to understand how an enemy might think and head them off. It was grueling, frustrating, and led her nearly to blows with Bucky at the end of every session.

It wasn't that they didn't get along, necessarily…it was more that his teaching style didn't align with her learning style. He was direct, intense, no-nonsense. She was used to picking things up perfectly on the first try, leaving her frustrated from the jump with things that didn't follow that rule. His intensity and her agitation usually led to her feeling like he was talking down to her, making her hostile and him annoyed. But they stuck with it, showing up day after day.

This week had been the first in nearly a month that they hadn't met multiple times, with Bucky being occupied with briefings for this specific mission. Maybe that's why she showed up this morning to see them off. It had felt surprisingly quiet and solitary without being in training with them all every day. So here she was, coffee in hand and eyes still heavy, waiting to say goodbye for a few days.

The entire compound hummed with a sense of purpose as everyone geared up for departure, their first mission in a while. The hangar was a flurry of activity as engineers prepped the jet for takeoff and triple checked the arsenal onboard. The team stood in their locker-room of sorts, finishing their own prep. Charlotte stood in the doorway, watching them prepare. Steve slung his shield over his shoulder, clicking it into place on his back. Nat was doing a quick check on her Widow's Bite wrist packs, ensuring maximum destructive potential. Sam and Wanda were both already dressed, but seated on the bench beside each other, looking less than awake at this hour. To her right, Bucky moved slowly. Not due to fatigue or lack of caffeine, but some haunting sense of deja vu that seemed to plague him in the moments he suited up. Sliding a gun into his thigh holster and another into the strap on his back, he turned. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were glazed. Like he was somewhere far, far away from the locker room. She knew the feeling.

"Earth to Barnes," She quipped, raising an eyebrow. His gaze met hers and seemed to snap back to the present moment.

"Good morning sunshine." His tone was dry.

"I guess this means I'm off the hook for training today, huh?" Her tone was light, baiting him.

"You could practice on your own, you know." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, but I could also not do that and spend the day basking in the sunshine on the dock instead." She pretended to weigh her hands. "Tough call."

He looked her disapprovingly but said nothing, not acknowledging that she was fully dressed in her training uniform, and stepped around her to head to the Quinjet. She tried not to take it personally that he wasn't in the mood today. He was probably getting in the zone, or whatever they did before missions. Although she initially declared her disinterest in this when she joined the team, a subtle feeling of exclusion gnawed at her.

"Hey, Cap," Charlotte said, a small smile playing on her lips as she shook it off and approached Steve. "Bring me back a souvenir, okay?"

Steve grinned. "Count on it, Charlotte. You take care of things here."

The banter between them felt easy, familiar. The team had never pressured her or questioned her decision to stay out of active duty. Yet a seed of doubt lingered in her mind. As Natasha passed by, loading a small handgun, Charlotte followed her out.

"Don't have too much fun without me." Charlotte remarked.

Natasha smirked. "Yeah, it'll be a real rager. I should be saying that to you."

"Yeah, me and all the agents who are so fond of me. Things'll really get crazy around here." She rolled her eyes.

"We'll be back before you know it." Nat paused at the foot of the ramp, hair blowing as the engines began to roar to life. She gently bumped Charlotte's shoe with her own. "See you in three days."

"Go kick some ass." Charlotte forced a grin.

The other team members filed up the ramp after her, murmuring various goodbyes and patting her on the back. It was only three days. An intelligence mission. She wasn't sure why it felt like she was sending them off on a years' long voyage.

As the ramp began to ascend with a hiss, she caught a flash of dark hair walking inside the jet. Bucky locked eyes with her, pausing briefly. Charlotte gave a half-hearted salute to him, hoping to elicit a grin. He simply nodded and continued on.

The engines flared and the jet soared out of the hangar. The silence that followed was deafening. Around her, SHIELD agents began to return to their posts now that the jet had taken off. She could see small groups of early risers beginning to arrive at the compound, reliving those who'd worked the night shift. The sky had only just turned from black to a dark blue-gray, sunrise still an hour or so away.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep anyways, Charlotte decided to go for a run. She downed the rest of the coffee, still hot enough that she felt it all the way down to her empty stomach. She was already dressed in training gear, but another thought crossed her mind. Turning on her booted heel, she headed back for the locker room.

Just about anything the team would need for any mission ever lived in this room. It was a long room, with alcoves built into the sleek walls every few feet for a new team member. In each person's equipment bay, they had 2-3 training suits, and 1-2 combat suits hanging. Several drawers near the bottom housed various bits of gear specific to each person. Nat had ample supplies to restock her Widow's Bite, while Bucky's was full of ammunition. Of course, there was an entirely separate wing of the engineering building dedicated to housing the massive amounts of weapons manufactured here, as well as developing new tech. This was just where the most commonly used things got to go.

Standing in front of her own locker, Charlotte crossed her arms. Just like everyone else, she had two training suits hanging, the third on her body. A second pair of lightweight combat boots sat at the base. She tugged open the drawer and found a few holsters she'd worn for a training exercise, but nothing else. Why would she need her own artillery if she wasn't going on missions? The only reason she was given a locker here was because she no longer trained with the SHIELD agents.

Taking a deep breath, she stalked to the back of the room where she knew extra equipment would be kept. Right where she knew it to be, a thick tactical vest hung in an empty bay. She pulled it on and pinched a button down by her ribcage, the tech immediately cinching it to her body. In a few moments, the lightweight vest was full of at least twenty pounds of firepower and ammunition. Several more were strapped to her legs. The one thing she'd forgotten…shit. A hairtie.

I'll bring it back later. She thought to herself as she plucked one out of Wanda's drawer and pulled her hair into a tight bun at the base of her head. It was early enough that no one was around to notice her armed to the teeth before sunrise. Good. She didn't need anyone asking questions or pressing her for this silly urge. She looked left and right before breaking into a light jog towards the trailhead into the forest.

She might not be an Avenger, but that didn't mean she couldn't train like one.

Charlotte walked with purpose through the compound, her mind still focused on the training session she had just completed, notes with things she could improve running through her mind. It was mid-morning, the compound cafe a flurry of activity as the day picked up. She barely paid attention as she made her way to the coffee machine.

"Didn't get called up to the Major Leagues?" A voice sneered from behind her. Charlotte didn't have to look to identify the agent taunting her.

Charlotte shot back, "Someone had to stay here to babysit."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. We've all heard about your defects." She taunted. "I guess HYDRA lost their touch after Barnes. A one-hit wonder."

She grit her teeth but ignored them, not wanting to get baited.

Another agent chimed in, "Yeah, we've got Captain America and the Winter Soldier, and they still felt like we needed another lab experiment. Maybe it's part of some charitable outreach program?"

It was all Charlotte could do to keep from crushing the cardboard cup in her hands. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

"At least her collar is cute." One of the agents boldly leaned against the counter next to her and flicked her bracelet.

Fuck it.

In a split second, Charlotte had the agent by the throat, pinned to the cabinets behind her. With her free right arm, she swung an elbow back, hitting the agent she knew was standing there. He cried out as his nose crunched and began to gush blood. Shifting her weight, she kicked backwards with her right foot and caught the final agent square in the abdomen, spilling her coffee and knocking her on her ass as she struggled to catch her breath. Charlotte's eyes flicked to the agent she still had pinned to the wall, now kicking her feet as her eyes turned red.

Her right fist curled, ready to strike, but a commanding female voice cut through the noise. "Enough!"

A woman with a no-nonsense demeanor emerged from the crowd that had gathered. She wore a white coat, indicating her role in the science department. Charlotte recognized her from the lab, but couldn't recall ever interacting with her. The agents that stood gawking dispersed and scurried back to their duties. She was pretty, her tan skin and dark hair striking. She was smaller than Charlotte, but had a don't-fuck-with-me attitude that stood six feet tall.

"I suggest you all remember where you are and who you're speaking to. Disrespect towards a fellow agent won't be tolerated," she warned, her tone sharp. "By us, or by the fellow agent." Her eyes flicked to Charlotte's, the slightest smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Charlotte slowly lowered the female agent to the ground, releasing her grip on the woman's throat. She collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath.

"You should be thankful you were at Ms. Rossi's discretion today. If I were in charge of your discipline, my recommendation would be dismissal from the program altogether." Their eyes widened at her threat, one of them still trying to staunch the flow of blood from his nose. The woman looked at Charlotte inquisitively. "Unless Ms. Rossi still feels that recommendation is warranted?"

Three sets of eyes, simultaneously fuming and pleading, flicked to Charlotte.

"They can stay." She picked up her coffee cup, completely undisturbed by the scene. "Consider it charitable outreach."

"Very well." She fought back a grin again. "Now, I suggest you get cleaned up and get to training before Agent Hill starts asking questions."

The agents clamored to their feet and dispersed, shooting one last glare at Charlotte. As they walked away, Charlotte took a breath, willing the rage to cool down.

The woman who had intervened approached her. She offered a sympathetic smile. "Sorry about that. Some people here forget their manners. I'm Calla, from the science division."

Charlotte nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, Calla. I'm Charlotte."

"I know who you are," Calla replied coolly.

"Right," Charlotte said, a mix of gratitude and wariness in her eyes. "I've seen you in the lab. Sorry I haven't said hello, I'm usually there so Bruce can talk me out of decking someone."

Calla waved her off. "Mind if I join you for coffee? Now that it's quieted down around here." She gestured to the oddly empty room.

Charlotte smirked. "It'd be a shame not to enjoy it."

They settled into a table outside, the spring sun warming their skin as it rose higher in the sky.

Calla took a sip of her coffee before diving into her background. "So, like I said, I'm Calla. I've been working with Dr. Banner for a while now."

"Bruce?" Charlotte asked, her curiosity evident. Clearly she hadn't been paying close enough attention when she barged into the lab before.

"Yeah, the big green guy. We've been researching superhuman enhancements, trying to have an understanding so that medical technology can serve the enhanced community as well as the human community. My specialty is in genetics, neurology, cell mutation, the whole shebang," Calla explained.

Impressed, Charlotte nodded. "That's... intense."

Calla chuckled. "Yeah, you could say that. I was recruited by Bruce himself after I graduated from MIT. But before that, I served in the military for a few years. Did my first contract and left because I felt I couldn't innovate the way I wanted to. Found a home here, though. I've been living on the compound for the past two years."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "You live here? There are other residential quarters?"

Calla nodded. "Yep. Not many people know, they don't want agents thinking they can just move in. There's a small set of units above the lab. Bruce stays there sometimes, a few of the engineers live there. Maria has a room but she refuses to stay in it. Says she needs a break from this place."

"I can see that," Charlotte chuckled.

The conversation flowed seamlessly, talking about the quirks of the team and life on the compound, her time in the military. She didn't seem to be in any particular hurry to get back to the lap. It was Charlotte who checked the time, realizing she was late to a flight simulation. She'd made a personal goal of learning to fly a Quinjet before the team returned and a brave agent from the hangar that morning had offered to help her.

As they finished their coffee, Calla hesitated for a moment before blurting. "Oh, and I'm engaged to Sam Wilson."

Charlotte's eyes widened. "Wait, what? Sam as in the Falcon? He's engaged?"

Calla grinned. "Guilty as charged. We met when he came in a couple weeks after I arrived and needed stitches, but the doctor on call wasn't around. I helped him out, we talked about our experience serving, and we just never really stopped talking."

Stunned, Charlotte stared at her slack-jawed. "This whole time, Sam, Sam has had a whole fiance?" She thought through all the time they'd spent together, all the evenings she'd seen him in the common room. "So, when do you…?"

"I'm kind of a workaholic." She shrugged. "We have breakfast together every day, he pops in between training sessions, we alternate between who shacks up with whom. Most of the time I make him come to me."

"I guess chivalry isn't dead after all." Charlotte still gaped at her. "But he eats dinner with us every night…does that bother you?"

"He eats two dinners." Calla laughed. "I think he honestly prefers it that way. That man is a bottomless pit."

"So why keep it a secret?" Charlotte furrowed her brows. "And why tell me now?"

Calla toyed with the empty cup in her hand. "I was the one who wanted to keep it a secret. I was new here, and young, and didn't want to get a reputation for being the new girl sleeping with an Avenger. I wanted to make a name for myself first. Sam wanted to shout it from the rooftops, literally, but he respected me. So we kept it a secret for almost two years now, although I'm pretty certain Natasha figured it out immediately. I told Bruce a while back. Other than that, you're the first person to know." She smiled. "To answer your question, I just figured it was time. What fun would a wedding be without any wedding guests."

"Well, I'm honored." Charlotte lifted up her empty cup. "To the future Mrs. Wilson."

Calla lifted hers and grinned. "To those punk agents finally getting what was coming to them."