Coming Down ➢ Steve Rogers

two

Chapter Two;

"One flat white and chocolate croissant." Delaney smiled at the man she was serving. "Was that all for today?"

He nodded, lowering his newspaper. "That's all. Thank you... Jean," he said, squinting at her nametag. One part of being on the run was covering up one's identity – it changed with each city she visited. This time, she was Jean Scott. Nice and ordinary: nothing special, nothing to look at twice. There were probably a few others with the same name, which made things all the better for Delaney. It was easier to hide that way.

The customer reached out and took a sip of the coffee and Delaney took that as her cue to leave. Spinning on her heel, she walked back to the counter. Her co-worker, Danielle, glanced up as she approached.

"Is that your last order for the day, Jean?" she asked brightly.

Delaney nodded. "My shift just ended."

She'd been working as a waitress at the French patisserie in Washington for the past two weeks. It was a bit of a risk, being somewhere so populated – the capital of America, no less. But she wasn't flaunting her location here, and maybe hiding out in a capital city for a month was what the people looking for her would least expect.

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Lucky. I just started." She swatted Delaney's shoulder playfully. "Go out, relax. You've looked too stressed since you arrived. Grab coffee and doughnuts or something."

Stress can be a side effect of being on the run, I guess.

Delaney laughed. "Thanks for the advice, Danielle."

"Anytime."

Delaney grabbed her bag from the back; inside was her purse, a phone she kept switched off and only used in the case of emergencies and, most importantly, in a hidden pocket, her weapons.

Knives had been her weapon of choice since she had been recruited to S.H.I.E.LD.. She had taken to them instantly with unnerving accuracy. Delaney now knew why; she had been trained to use knives for years before she arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D.. She now carried at least five with her wherever she went, and at her apartment she had a belt with ten more knives, awaiting her use.

Natasha had also supplied her with numerous weapons, such as small darts that produced brief surges of electric waves. They were handy to make quick escapes, or when she was unable to fight hand-to-hand. Delaney hadn't needed to use them once over the past two years, but they were handy to keep nearby in case a situation suddenly turned dire.

Delaney checked her weapons were still in her bag as she walked outside into the afternoon air, blinking quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light. She felt reassured as her hands brushed over the cool metal. Squaring her shoulders, she walked along the street with several other busybodies, still dressed in her work clothes: a crisp white blouse and black skirt. They were comfortable enough, so Delaney hadn't bothered to change.

She ended up following Danielle's advice; the coffee and the doughnut were both delicious. She hummed under her breath as she ambled along, basking in the sunlight. Looking for a nice environment, Delaney headed to the Smithsonian Institution; she had been in Washington DC for two weeks, but hadn't yet glimpsed the famous museums.

She almost tripped when she saw the exhibition being advertised.

An exhibit about Captain America - or, as she knew him, Steve Rogers.

Delaney sucked in a breath, her eyes fixated on the image of her friend in his Captain America outfit. She stepped closer, eyes wide, unable to believe that for two weeks she hadn't known that this was here. If she'd known... She'd have stayed away, she knew that much. She'd cut herself off from anything about the Avengers since she'd left two years ago – she hadn't even checked the news. To see this in front of her was almost overwhelming.