"First rule of going on the run is don't run, walk."
"If I run in these shoes, they're gonna fall off."
An involuntary snort of amusement sounds from me as I adjust the thick rimmed square glasses on my face, pulling my black beanie down a little further. Still wearing my chestnut brown hoodie and black jogging leggings, I had decided that unlike Steve and Natasha, I didn't really need a wardrobe change. The STRIKE team didn't see me before, and I'm not even on their radar. Yet.
It doesn't take long to find a tech store and fiddle around on one of the test and display laptops, and as Natasha plays around with the computer, Steve and I ever so often peer over our shoulders to check for oncoming hostiles. "You know," I start, amidst waiting for Natasha to set up the computer for the hard drive. "I never trusted Rumlow and his goons – probably why I went off my gut instinct and argued with them every chance I got."
"Lilly, you argue with everyone at every chance you get," Steve nearly deadpans, but the twinkle of amusement is evident in his eyes.
I hum thoughtfully. "True, but I only resort to provoking people and sarcasm because beating the shit out of people is frowned upon."
"... and illegal," Steve finishes for me, despite me being unaware that my sentence needed to be finished.
Shrugging, I open my mouth to comment on how nothing we do is really legal and how we're currently fugitives, so the legalities of assault really isn't something we should be concerned about right now, but Natasha intervenes and instead begins to steer us back on track. "The drive has a Level Six homing program, so as soon as we boot up, SHIELD will know exactly where we are."
"How much time will we have?" Steve asks.
"Ah, about nine minutes from..." She plugs in the hard drive mid-sentence, announcing "now."
"Nine is more than enough," I contribute, spotting Steve's concerned and cautious stares thrown around the room. "Plus we've worked with Rumlow and the STRIKE team long enough to know their telltales and go-to strategies. We're not fighting complete strangers, just liars."
"Didn't take you for an optimist Lilly," Natasha evenly comments, a tinge of humour in her tone.
A wry smile plays at my lips. "I'm not. But the mere thought of being able to finally knock in Brock's perfect teeth has put me in a spritely mood."
"We're trying to avoid it coming to that," Steve feels the need to remind me, but appears nearly as satisfied and entertained by the prospect as I do.
"I know, I know. I'm just saying, if it did come to that, I'm more than happy to toss provocations and sarcasm aside and bear the burden of breaking a nose or two. Preferably Rumlow, but hell, I'll take Rollins as well."
"How considerate of you," Natasha smiles a small smile.
I shrug, basking in the glory of her sarcastic compliment. "Eh, just doing my civic duty as a loyal and virtuous American citizen."
A couple minutes pass unproblematic, and Natasha begins to run us through a few things about the hard drive. "Fury was right about that ship. Somebody's trying to hide something. This drive is protected by some sort of AI; it keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands."
Jarvis would beats it's ass in 0.2 seconds. Just saying.
"Can you override it?" Steve inquires, staring at the computer thoughtfully when realistically; he probably doesn't understand what any of the finer technicalities on this hard drive mean. Bless him, he tries.
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Played by the Enemy || Captain America || Book 2
Fanfiction"My hands are stained with dirt. And they always will be." ~ Lillian Nightshade; assassin, Captain America's girlfriend, and number one magnet for bullsh*t and bad luck. For her entire life, she's been told what to, who to kill, who she is, and what...
