Three days later, a confirmation message arrived from Stark. By 5 am, the coordinates for the runway, where the jet was waiting, had already been sent. The decision to keep this mission off the radar of the US government was a wise one. It suggested a certain level of trust in the words shared by the woman they had been searching for.

She packed everything needed into a small bag: knives, maps of the location, food, and water. The future was uncertain. Maybe she would have to flee before they decided to place her in handcuffs again.

Approaching the jet, she saw the tailgate open and someone standing in front of it. Even as she got closer, her hands instinctively checked her main knives, it was a habit.

"Right on time," he said as they stood less than a meter away from each other.

"I know. Captain America," she replied with a sarcastic tone, her gaze focusing on his eyes. It wasn't the intense blue that unsettled her, it was the look. He wasn't hating her, he wasn't afraid, and he wasn't on guard. His eyes traced down her face, trying to figure out what was under the veil.

"Get inside," someone shouted as soon as Stark started to close the tailgate and started the engine.

Steve guided her to the main lounge where Stark was sitting. She felt a few gazes on her. "This is not a plane, this is a villa," she remarked, and Steve let a gentle smile grow across his face.

"For someone who has followed us for years, you should know how I live by now," Stark said as they approached him.

"I'm not a stalker, Stark," she said, letting out a small chuckle.

"No, but I was a bit creeped out when I saw the cameras you had hidden near the compound," Natasha said, walking into the lounge with Clint by her side.

"Yeah, not so sorry about that," she remarked.

She turned back to Stark as she saw him staring at her eyeing her up and down.

"Show her her room, Rogers," he said, not taking his eyes off her. "Do you sleep in that too?" Finally, his head snapped back to her face. "I mean, it looks hot, not complaining here." Then he turned his focus to the screen in front of him.

Steve guided her out of the lounge, and she followed him. "Don't mind Tony, he doesn't think before he speaks," he said.

"I mean, I look like a spy that could rip your chest open, but I still like to be told I'm hot."

"Well, are you?" he asked, stopping and opening a door.

She stood right in front of him, closer. "What? Hot or a spy?"

His eyes widened as her right hand delicately reached for her veil. With a slow, deliberate motion, she pulled it away from her face, revealing her features to him for the first time.

He stood rooted to the spot, as if time had slowed down. His eyes meticulously scanned her face, drinking in the details of her features as much as he could. A scar, quite noticeable, marked the skin near her left eye. Yet, as intriguing as the scar was, his attention was irresistibly drawn back to her eyes. Her eyes, deep and intense, seemed to snatch away his ability to speak.

He realized he knew next to nothing about her. She had made it abundantly clear that she would not be sharing anything with them, beyond what was required for the mission at hand. Yet, as he stared into her eyes, he couldn't ignore a certain underlying emotion. As if this was the first time in ages that she had spent time surrounded by people.

But despite everything, or perhaps because of it, she was strikingly beautiful. Her beauty was not just skin-deep; it was a captivating amalgamation of her strength, resilience, and the mysterious aura that surrounded her.

But still, Steve's mind was weighed down by a ton of questions: Who was she, and what did she have to do with Bucky?

She entered the room with a steady, elegant pace, not making a sound. She placed her bag on the floor and subtly turned towards Steve as he couldn't take his eyes off her.

He was staring at her, still on the doorstep. She was familiar with his story, Captain America's story was known to everyone. However, observing him, she felt like a few pieces were missing.

The hero standing there had as much blood on his hands as everyone else. His killings were glorified only because he was on the winning side. It's hard to believe his past doesn't haunt him.

"Did the Winter Soldier arrive?" she asked

"Don't refer to him like that, he's not that man anymore. I don't know what history exists between you two, and frankly, he doesn't even remember as of right now." Steve sighs, lowers his gaze, and reaches for the door handle. "But yes, he's here, he's part of the team"

"Even after Stark found out about his parents?" she scoffed "guess he fooled all of you "

"Listen, whatever happened between you too, let it go, or at least, put it to the side for now. You came to us for help, and he's part of us, he's part of me. You take what you're given"

Her body noticeably tensed and shifted uncomfortably during the conversation about Bucky, as Steve responded. This reaction made him question how they would adapt to working together. With a sigh, he closed the door and walked away.

As they fly above the location, Steve sits next to Tony in the control room. He asks JARVIS to check the surroundings of the building. They notice two armored cars at the gate. As the jet's cameras zoom in, they realize these are US military vehicles.

"Something's off," Steve observes.

"I know. But she said that the government was being a bit sketchy on this thing," Tony responds.

"What, now do we trust her?" Tony asks sarcastically.

Steve pauses briefly.

"Rogers? What the fuck?" Tony exclaims.

"Can we just land somewhere close and discuss this? It's not a matter of if we trust her or not, but you said it yourself, something is off. Why is the US military here?" Steve suggests.

"Okay, Okay," Tony scoffs. "But that means we cannot attack."

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