white flag, steve rogers

014. don't spill the coffee

chapter fourteen
014. don't spill the coffee

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    "I SERIOUSLY don't know how this is going to lead us anywhere closer to our missing person's case."

    Pamela Daniels sighed and fixed her gaze, not amused at Sam Wilson walking beside her. The two unlikely friends walked down the crowded street of Lower Manhattan, slipping in and out of passing shoulders▬Pam led the way, her eyes fixed on a target further down the street near the corner. The ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent walked among the people of New York without anyone giving her a second glance. Even after every secret amongst S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA had been exposed to the general public▬including her identity▬Pamela Daniels managed to mix into the sea of people without any trouble. She was good at that▬making herself seem invisible to the average eye. But even then, the person who walked these streets was not an agent anymore. She was just Pamela Daniels▬she has been just Pamela Daniels for over a year now, and some might say that suited her very well.

    Even still, Pamela Daniels always held a haunting look about her. She had a sharp beauty to her▬pointed stares and a sharp facial structure; her eyebrows were more often than not settled in a scowl. Her light blonde hair settled just below her shoulders, and her out-grown bangs softened her features just enough to turn the sharpened stare of a serpent into just any other young woman in her mid-twenties. Pamela learnt very quickly that hair can hide just as many secrets without ever telling a lie off her tongue. She slipped her hands into the pockets of her dark green utility jacket, keeping a matched pace with jeans and boots beside Sam. The Red Viper wasn't exactly the Red Viper anymore, but she still held a venom to her▬especially in the way that she could not stop herself from checking every reflection they passed. Even if she had stepped away from the life she once had and into a new chapter ... the Red Viper could not escape her past, no matter how hard she tried. And right now, they were walking straight to it.

    It made her a little anxious, and Sam Wilson could tell. The Falcon was without his iron wings and combat suit but still walked with the purpose of the bird he was named for. He stood tall, with a round face shaped by stubble and close-cropped tight black curly hair. But unlike the Red Viper walking beside him, Sam held an air of excitement about him. He had energy and he had millions of thoughts▬he had a heart, most of all. A heart that was large and welcoming, and it swelled each time he laughed or made a joke▬it grew to a size that accommodated anyone around him. He was quick-witted and light-hearted; he wore not just his heart on his sleeve, but also his morals and his determination.

    But despite how different both of them were, Pamela Daniels and Sam Wilson complimented each other. Over the past year, their circumstances and mutual determination to help Captain America brought them together▬and despite their differences, they worked very well together. Sam was Pamela's friend, which was strange for her to come to terms with at first, but now, things were just natural. Pam just clicked with Sam, and that was the best way she could describe it. 

    Pamela glanced at Sam briefly as they continued to walk down the busy street. "We've been chasing cold leads for over a year now," she told him in a hushed tone. They both kept to the inner edge of the sidewalk, keeping to themselves▬which was easy in New York. "Our friend is hard to find when he wasn't rogue, and now it's even harder. I've run myself dry▬I'm on my last playing card."

    "Oh," Sam understood, nodding. "So, you're desperate?"

   She made a face, shaking her head. "I'm not desperate. I'm just re-evaluating our tools in the shed. And ... I'm choosing to use a very old one."