Agent A

Across the Hall and to the Right

A gentle silence fell comfortably between Sam and the slowly but surely new found version of his former self, James Bucky Barnes. It wasn't something either of the two were not familiar with— both knowing sometimes silence spoke louder then a thousand men screaming.

Sam couldn't remember leaving the light on when he'd left his sisters house for the neighbourhood barbecue down by the docks. It was midday when he left, it seemed unnecessary. But now as the light of the sun started to disappear behind cloud cover that would surely bring the rain with it, the porch light being on felt more like a common sense move. Forward thinking. But something inside Sam said to trust his gut.

"I think we have company." Sam growled as he softly came to a halt. Pressing his arm again Bucky's chest as if to silently ask him to stop moving. Bucky eyed down the porch, watching a the shadow of a darker figure moved slowly inside. Not rushed, if anything it seemed at peace with its presence—like whoever it was knew that Sam wouldn't mind he was there once he knew of his identity.

"Aliens, androids, or wizards?" Bucky chuckled to himself as he stepped ahead of Sam. Curiosity rushing through his veins. Sam sighed.

"My bets on damn Wizards man—surely there's more of them snooping around now." Sam jogged a few feet to catch up to Bucky. The pair of them hesitantly yet comfortably walking up the rickety old stairs and into the living room of Sarah's humble abode. As soon as they saw him—they both sighed. It was never over.

"Now don't look to chuffed gentleman, although I do believe a congratulations is in order, captain—" Nick Fury in all his Nick Fury-ness smiled crookedly. Sam countered with his arms crossed, chest puffed as Bucky's eyed trained heavily on the man who had done very little for him.

"With all due respect, I just filled a position the world wasn't ready to let go of yet—however I know damn well they are well and truly ready to move on without SHELD."

"Good thing that's dead in the water, I'm here on my own terms" Fury stood tall and walked almost at a snails pace as he handed over a pastel yellow folder to Bucky. The slap of the papers sounded heavy in his hand. "I have a favour to ask—"

"Why us?"

"Not us, him—" Fury pointed at Bucky. His eyes squinting in confusion as to why he was being summoned. "A colleague of mine, former CIA, has gone missing—" Fury paused as he tried to describe the situation at hand the best he possibly could. "We'll technically I knew exactly where she was, five years ago." Fury was only one for the millions who were blipped into non-existences. same for both Bucky and Sam. They knew first hand what it hand felt like to come back so confused and lost. To rebuild. "However as you to gentlemen would know, the last five years didn't exist to us and now—" Fury paused as he admitted his own anguish. "I don't know where the hell she is."

Bucky opened the file Fury had handed him. A face so recognisable it felt like a slap in the face. Sam looked over Bucky's shoulder as Fury continued talking— either one of them really paying attention to grave detail. Not to thrilled with the idea of playing avenger straight out the gate after dealing with John and the flag smashers. But as Bucky shut the case file and handed it over without looking past the profile picture paper clipped to the multiple files behind it, it made Fury go silent.

"You knew—"

"Knew what?"

"That I know this woman" Sam was just as confused at Fury was. "that's why you came to us, well— to me". Sam frowned and Bucky pretended that he didn't throw a small bit of buddy cop humour in there on purpose.

"I can assure you I did not." Fury's time was borderline abusive, the way he was so adamant he had no idea. "How the hell could you—"

"She's my therapist receptionist—" Sams eyes sparked back up as he reached for the files.