Five

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I was right for thinking I'd hate the malt machine. I was forced to follow another waiter around on my first day, taking mental notes about what he was doing. Now I was required to hand out plates and make my own shakes, though supervised. The machine was a noisy, messy thing that shook violently and could probably use a lot of repair work. If I didn't hate the place so much, I might try to convince Stark to send them an upgrade. Even if it killed the vintage theme.

I had one hand on top of the machine while the other tried to balance the rest. I'd already made three shakes, and it wasn't even noon yet. Marion slid into place at my side, her dark eyes scanning the bar full of patrons. She smiled mischievously.

"There's a hot guy over there who wants to talk to you," she said.

"A what?" I asked, shouting over the noisy machine rumbling beneath my hands.

"A hot guy. Over there." She pointed down the length of the bar where a man was leaning against the counter. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, but he was obviously watching us. He smiled and waved. I recognized him from the meeting with Hill and the others. Sam Wilson had stopped by for a chat. "Do you know him?" I didn't know if I was supposed to tell the truth.

"Uh." I turned off the machine. "Kind of."

I motioned for him to wait and finished up the shake. I took it out to the customer and shared a few smiles before telling Marion I was going on my break. Sam waited for me at the end of the bar. I slid my notepad into the pocket of my apron and approached cautiously. He gave me a reassuring smile.

"Johanna Hayes," he said. I nodded slowly.

"That's me," I replied.

"Sam Wilson. Nice to finally meet you. For real this time." He stuck out his hand, and I shook it.

"Nice to meet you too. For real."

"I came to talk to you about Steve." I glanced around the dining area to see if anyone was watching. Marion was sizing him up from the other end of the bar, but she went back to refilling ketchup bottles when I caught her looking. I nodded back to him.

"Right. Steve. Can I get you something? A burger? Some fries? Please don't ask me for a milkshake." He gave me an easy smile.

"A Coke would be nice."

"Have a seat in the back booth, and I'll go get it."

"Thanks."

He headed to the booth, and I did another scan of the dining room and the windows. Then I slipped into the back to get his drink. Marion followed, skipping quickly on her chunky shoes to catch up. She glanced at Sam over my shoulder.

"He's cute," she remarked. I only nodded absently.

"He's a friend of my uh...." I didn't want to call Rogers my boyfriend. It felt wrong. "Guy," I decided. "Friend. That I see on occasion." Her eyebrows rose with pleasant surprise, apparently taking my hesitation to mean something else.

"Nice. So you have an occasional guy friend? Is he cute too?"

"He's big. Kinda muscular. Rides a motorcycle." That was all I could come up with. I knew nothing personal about Rogers. And I was getting uncomfortable just telling her what I could.

"Nice," she said with a nod anyway.

"Yeah."

I felt awkward. So I hurried with the soda and rushed back to the booth to hand it off to Sam. He had his back to the wall, and his arm stretched out over the back of the seat. I didn't like having my back exposed, but I was only supposed to be a civilian. So I slid into the seat opposite him and folded my hands in my lap.

"What did you need to talk to me about?" I whispered. He leaned forward but kept his eyes on the busy diner. Luckily, no one was in our immediate area, so we were safe. The sound of customers and the loud milkshake machine would drown out interference.

"Just passing along some tips for Steve since you guys can't talk yet," he told me, rubbing the straw between his fingers. "Some stuff SHIELD didn't know or things he wanted to keep on the down-low." I'd already been given a more thorough briefing by Romanoff. So I didn't think there was anything else I'd need to know.

"What kind of stuff?"

"This guy—Barnes. I've had the misfortune of meeting him a few times. If you'd even call it that. It's a real touchy subject for Steve. They were best friends. Brothers. Barnes was the closest thing to a family he had. It's hard to wake up one day and find everything you knew and everyone you loved is gone. Barnes' death was hard on him. He watched it happen, blamed himself, didn't really get enough time to grieve. So he wants to find the guy, rightly doesn't trust anyone after what happened with SHIELD. He's afraid they'll either kill him outright or try to use him to their benefit. So this isn't just about finding Barnes for him. It's about saving him. You understand?"

"So this isn't just locating a potential threat. This mission will be a lot longer than I anticipated, won't it?" He sighed heavily and moved his dark eyes to mine.

"Look," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's important to Steve. It's personal. He doesn't want you to get hurt, but he wants you to know that's a real possibility. This guy is dangerous, more than you know, and the people who might be after him are much worse. You can back out any time, but be careful how you treat this mission. Especially with Steve. Barnes—I don't like him very much. And that's putting it nicely." He laughed. "But I like Steve, and I know it's important to him to help Barnes—you know—recover. I trust his judgment."

"Recovery doesn't just happen overnight. It's a process. It could take years. He'll be lucky just to apprehend him. He can't count on getting his friend back."

"I know. And I think Steve knows it too. So he's trying to go about it in a way that's comfortable with Barnes. And he'll do what he can to get through to him. But—Barnes' mind is—delicate, let's put it that way. He's violent. He's strong. I know you're Special Forces, but he uh...."

"It's okay. I know he's stronger than I am. I'm not offended. He's enhanced." He laughed. "And I can relate. I think I can handle it delicately."

"You sure about that?" I laughed sarcastically.

"No." His eyes focused on something behind me, and then Marion appeared with a basket of fries.

"Had a canceled order. Thought you guys might like a snack," she said, setting the small red basket on the table between us.

"I think we're good," I said. She gave Sam a flirty smile and walked away. He watched her go.

"Nice kid," he said, leaning over the table. He took a fry from the basket and twirled it in his fingers.

"Steve just wanted me to tell you a few things about his history with Barnes," he continued. "Stuff a guy might tell his girlfriend. Best friends growing up. Steve was a puny nerdy kid who liked to get into trouble. They met on the schoolyard when Steve got cornered by some bullies, and Barnes stood up for him. Turned into a regular thing for them. Barnes was a protective older brother type. Liked to pick on him, but he was proud. Bit of a lady's man, from what I understand. Thought he had something to prove." There was a knot in the pit of my stomach. I almost winced.

"You know, back in those days, a guy thought going to war was the best way to do that. So he shipped out, left Steve behind, rose in rank. Damn near perfect shot as it was. Smart. Quick. Would have given his life for Steve. Ended up doing just that."

"I already know most of this stuff. The History Channel puts out a special every year."

"That's all Steve's really told me. Like I said, it's a sensitive subject, and Steve isn't the talking type." He stuck one of the fries in his mouth, and I waited for him to finish before voicing my thoughts.

"Sounds to me like you're just here to size me up." He shrugged again.

"I'll only tell him nice things, I promise. What about you? Any questions for me? Might be your last chance to ask them." I watched him sift through the basket of fries.

"What about Steve's girlfriend?" He paused.

"She's not his girlfriend, from what I understand. It's complicated, I guess. He hasn't told me much about her."

"Why isn't she here playing this role for him? It would be much more believable if he actually liked the girl, wouldn't it?"

"Dunno," he said, eating more fries. "Considering what he has told me about her, I guess it would be easy for Barnes to view her as a threat."

"Why? Because she's enhanced? Wouldn't that be safer?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Stark told me." He huffed in irritation.

"Never even met the guy, and he already gets on my nerves." I shrugged. That sounded about right.

"He grows on you."

"He's good. Not many people know that about her. Steve wants to keep it that way. From what I understand, she isn't interested in the whole Avenging thing. But yeah, it's because she's enhanced. Barnes wouldn't take very long to figure it out. But she's also—uh—been through a lot. Steve doesn't want to put her in a position that might—set her off." He shrugged. "Anyway, Romanoff suggested you. She says you're strong enough to handle it, and she trusts your former Captain. I don't think Steve's girl would be able to do it. Or he would have asked her."

He had his eyes on the basket and missed how his words startled me. I never viewed myself as particularly strong. Even when I was in the military. Smart, maybe. Quick. But not physically strong. I couldn't shoot a gun. I couldn't sleep without nightmares. I owned a pink knife with sparkly gems on it. And Sam Wilson thought I was strong enough to handle—whatever this was.

I cleared my throat and looked at the clock behind the counter.

"I should probably get back to work," I told him. "If that's all you wanted to talk about."

He nodded slowly, still reading something from me that he didn't share.

"That's all I can think of at the moment. I figure if you're going to be Steve's girl from now on, it might be nice for us to be friends." I nodded and stood.

"Yeah, I'll invite you over for dinner sometime." He looked up at me and smiled, obviously catching my dry sarcasm.

"Was that a joke?" I laughed.

"I'll even make a casserole."

"I'll hold you to it." I returned the smile and tapped my fingers on the table.

"I'll cover your drink and fries."

"You don't have to do that."

"Don't worry about it. Rogers pays my tab." He lifted his Coke and pretended to offer cheers for his absent friend.

"God bless America," he said.

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