La Petite Fleur

Return

Steve was kept on the Helicarrier for a week longer before he was allowed back to the ground in Paris. It was another day before he could see Antoinette again and when he did, he was surprised. In the short time he'd been away, she'd already changed again.

He slipped into the familiar auditorium and sat to wait for the lights to dim. As far as he knew, Antoinette was unaware of his presence in the audience and he wanted to surprise her. But when she set one foot on the stage, he knew she was distracted by something and he didn't think it was him.

Throughout the entire ballet, she seemed slow, behind, not as mentally focused on the performance as she had been the numerous other times he had seen her dance. When the ballet was finished and the applause finally died out, he stood and fought his way through the crowd to find her. He searched the back room, keeping his eyes peeled for Antoinette's long blonde hair and bubbly enthusiasm.

After wasting fifteen minutes scouring a room she wasn't in, he left and stood outside the door off the atrium the girls used to change. Steve didn't have to wait long when the door opened and she slid out, clearly preoccupied in thought.

He tapped her on the shoulder lightly and waited for her to turn around with that brilliant smile that could appear so easily and disappear just as quickly. But when she pivoted to face him, her brows knit together and she bit her bottom lip nervously. She glanced around the heads of the crowded space before grabbing his wrist and dragging him away from the theatre.

He allowed himself to be tugged through the sidewalk traffic for a block and a half before she released his wrist and paced worriedly three strides back and forth in front of him. Few people traversed the spot where they stood so he didn't have to worry about keeping an eye out for those she might bump into.

"What's going on?" he asked.

She buried her face in her hands and shook her head before digging into her teal backpack and drawing out a crumpled piece of paper with bent edges and a strip shredded from the side. "I found it ce matin, this morning."

Steve smoothed out the paper and began to read the choppy writing. Every word seemed to be written by a different person so that the handwriting changes made the note difficult to decipher. There was no greeting or date or signature at the bottom, only the menacing message centered on the battered paper.

We know you're being protected because you cannot escape us on your own. Now that your petty adventure is finished, your precious soldier will be eliminated and we will have you again. When something is taken from us, we will retrieve it. We will give you no peace until we get our way. So the decision comes to you: find us and make a trade? or die and allow us the chance to invent all kinds of cruelty for your friend. Speak a word of this to anyone, and we will make your soldier's death as slow and painful as we know possible. You know how to find us- you've done it before, we're sure you can do it again. What will it be, Flower? An innocent trade or death to the one left you truly care for?

Steve read through the threatening letter twice before handing it back to Antoinette. She appeared on the verge of a mental breakdown and he subconsciously prepared himself to catch her if she passed out.

"Tell me who this is from and I'll have Director Fury send in a team as soon as he can spare it," he told her, trying to meet her eyes.

She avoided looking at him directly and instead stared off over his head or to either side of him. "I- I can't tell you," she stammered.

"And why's that?" He kept his voice level and calm, controlling his volume to stay just below regular speaking volume so she wouldn't have reason to worry more. If he hid the fact that he was freaking out on the inside, she might calm down enough for him to draw the information out.