She Made The Wish △ Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers

Chapter 2: Saving Yourself

It took less than a week for Fury to trust her enough to be relocated. Ophelia was never much of a liar, and she found herself unable to hold back any information she may have wanted to in in her confused daze. Fury had complied to her requests surprisingly well; apparently he was a bit nicer than the way he was portrayed in the movies and comics. That or he pitied her- the lost girl alone in a world, in over her head. She concluded to herself that it was probably a little bit of both.

She had requested to have a small house in the outskirts of DC, wanting a bit of time to herself to sort things out. For once as of late, the universe gave her a break and she received her wish, but not before meeting the one and only Natasha Romanoff to help get a set of new clothes. That was a whole other story within itself- one for another time.

At least the house wasn't completely bare, she bargained with herself. Sure, it was a skeleton of a house with basic kitchen and bathroom supplies and a bed, but that was one of the casualties of living in a SHIELD safe house- it missed some of the normal amenities that other houses had. Maybe when Fury had more trust in her he would give her access to TV, and if she was lucky, an upgrade from the flip phone they gave her before she departed.

After moving in- which took roughly ten minutes with the small amount of belongings she had- Ophelia put a log in the fireplace and set it alight. She lightly skipped over to the wall to wall bookshelf- the best part of the house according to her- and picked out a hardcover at random. She turned the cover over in her hand, her eyes meeting a pastel blue eye. 1984, by George Orwell. She let out an accidental snort at the irony of her choice before walking back over to the fireplace, taking a seat on the couch in the living room. She snuggled into the soft brown fabric before losing herself in the gripping writings of Orwell. That was, until her neighbors decided to welcome her, of course.

***

"Hi," A tall woman and burly man stood in front of the door, a basket of muffins in the woman's hand. "I'm Mabel and this is my husband Chris Portman. We're your new neighbors- we just wanted to see how you were getting settled!" Her voice was overenthusiastic and awfully high pitched, but Ophelia knew she could deal with it.

"Oh, wow, thank you! Please, do come in!"

Mabel and Nick walked through the front entrance of the house, taking their time to examine the very few objects that were in her house. "You have such a lovely house! I love the white crowned molding on the ridges of the ceiling- they were a nice touch!"

"Uh, thank you?"

"Oh, it's definitely a compliment, dear," Mabel made her way into Ophelia's small living room next, where only a couch stood. "I should know- I'm an interior designer."

Okay, now this woman was just bullshitting to be nice. Ophelia appreciated the effort, especially since the people she'd met in the past couple of days had been a lot less friendly and welcoming. "That means a lot, then. Please, do make yourself comfortable. Could I interest you with some coffee, or tea perhaps?"

Chris responded rather quickly after that, "Some coffee would be nice, if you wouldn't mind."

"Sure, and for you, Mabel?"

"I'll have what he's having." Mabel walked across the room, inspecting the bare shelves and walls. Ophelia had just finished getting rid of the boxes downstairs, so the room seemed even more empty than it had before. "I love the style of your furnishings!"

Ophelia was already in the kitchen, still open to the living room, figuring out how to use the high-tech coffee maker that she had been supplied. "Thank you! It seems I'm a bit of a minimalist." Of course it would seem that way- what Ophelia had was a skeleton of a house, nearly picked to its bones.