A/N: this was a dialogue request from CalypsoStorm! Hope you like it :) I have blocked today out to do ONLY WRITING! So I'm going to have a long day of just writing, editing, and lining chapters up to post later in the week! Thank you all for being so patient with me!

Winnie

Words: 3.9K

Warnings: language, violence, fluff

Paris is burning. The landscape is smothered by dark ash and blood—creating more of a nightmare than the usually dreamy scenery. Screams are muffled by the sounds of a high-tech plane's engines, but the ringing still cascades through the air. Aliens have crumbled buildings like stacks of playing cards. The Eiffel Tower is one of the last structures standing.

Steve Rogers perches at the east end of the jet with arms crossed and eyes scouring the burning city below. They're only an hour late to arrive, but the damage is insurmountable. A tight knot forms in Steve's throat as he looks down on the burning city. Night has fallen, and with it, the city.

"I don't know if you gentleman pray," a voice—low and lyrical—sounds a few feet away from Steve's left ear. "But if you do, now would be a good time."

Steve glances towards the woman in the tall brown combat boots and four guns holstered to her hips. She looks out at the same scene that Steve does with the fire reflected in her eyes. She's a friend of Nat's and Clint's from Shield—the one who helped team Cap hide after the fallout following the Accords. Her name is Agent Y/L/N, and even though she requests everyone to call her Agent Badass, she usually goes by Y/N.

Y/N's eyes flicker towards Steve. He's been caught staring... again. It's not uncommon for his lesser controllable self to want to gaze at the woman, especially in his weakest moments. He's not sure what it is about her that seems to call him closer: almost as if her presence itself is home, and her bright eyes and short-tempered attitude are guiding his way.

King T'Challa steps up to the window on Steve's other side. "These people will need much more than our prayers, but it is a place to start."

Steve, without saying a word, looks back to the city. The pilots—Nat and Okoye—are trying to find a safe, reliable place to land.

As King T'Challa walks away again Y/N catches herself looking back to the Captain. His eyes close momentarily as he takes a deep breath through his nose. When he opens up his pearly blue eyes again there seems to be a new wave of calmness about him.

"You're a religious man, Cap?" Y/N asks suddenly.

Steve looks to her quickly. "Yes, ma'am, I am."

Y/N purses her lips as if in deep thought about this. She busies her hands with double checking her weapons and radios. "Interesting."

"Why's that?" Steve isn't sure why of all things this conversation is something he wants to be involved of at this moment, but he chalks it up as a good excuse to take his mind off of the battle to come very shortly.

"I just figured after everything you've seen you'd be the opposite of an apostle for the Big Guy." Y/N pauses to turn away from the window. The descent is coming and she settles in her seat. Steve drops into the buckled seat opposite of her on the other side of the narrow aisle. "You know," Y/N goes on, "Norse gods, a dozen different species of aliens, the end of the world, people being brought back to life—that sort of thing. You've seen a lot of shit, Cap. Can't say I'd blame you for going anti-God."

Steve nods in understanding. A small smile is eluded on one side of his face. "That's all exactly the reason I'm a religious man. The thought of something bigger out there—bigger than you and me and these aliens we're going to be killing—it comforts me." He shrugs and double checks the weapons that decorate his own uniform. He doesn't miss the way that Y/N eyeballs him curiously as the jet lowers to the ground. "What?" he asks of her stare.

Y/N says, "I suppose I'm just surprised. I didn't think men like you existed—at least not in my world, with all the death and destruction we see."

"Like me?" Steve repeats confusedly. "Faithful?"

Y/N shakes her head. "Naïve."

Steve blinks—the word hitting him out of nowhere like a surprise smack to the back of the head.

The jet settles onto the hard earth and everyone in the plane rushes to stand. Y/N finds herself standing next to Steve just as the doors whir open to reveal the ashen, blood soaked pathway outside. "Well, I hope your prayer worked for you, Captain. I hope for your sake He's got your back out there."

"You don't think He'll have yours?" Steve asks.

Y/N cocks her gun and glances up at Steve. "I stopped believing in that big bully a long time ago. No one's got my back, only me."

Steve shakes his head gently. "You've got me." His blue eyes flicker over her face slowly as the rest of the team begins to jog out of the jet—nearly leaving the two almost-friends alone. "I'll have your back through anything."

Y/N blinks in shock. She opens her mouth to say something but nothing really comes out. Suddenly she stops herself with a brisk shake of her head. She pulls out two handguns and clears her throat. "Let's go then, Captain Almighty."

When Y/N rushes forward out of the jet it leaves Steve slightly behind. He takes a deep breath and gathers himself to be ready for whatever it is he'll have to do this time around. Clutching his diamond shaped shield closer to his chest he jogs down the ramp into what looks to be a feasible version of Hell. The city square the jet's landed in is surrounded by deserted cars toppled and crunched like empty candy wrappers. Bodies lie face-down on the pavement and smoke billows up from burning buildings towards the starry sky.

"What's the plan, Cap?" Nat asks. Her voice is in his ear but also ringing out through the quiet place. She's kneeling down beside a body with her fingers pressed to a neck—checking for a pulse. Y/N is standing over her keeping watch on the horizon line.

"Wanda, Sam, and Bucky—you're on evacuation. Get everyone to the subways. We know the aliens can't handle the gravitational pull that far down, so get them low and safe. Y/N, Vision, Nat and I will take the streets to clear a path."

T'Challa directs his group. "Okoye—you're with me. Everyone else is to follow the plan. We're splitting in half: East and West side of the city."

Steve looks at Nat and Y/N, "We're getting the North."

"What about the South?" Y/N asks.

A voice comes out of nowhere. "Leave that to me and my crew, Agent Badass." A man in a red suit has dropped down from the sky and perched near the city-center water fountain with futuristic grace.

Y/N raises an eyebrow. She glances at Steve without saying anything about the tight-lipped look on his face.

"Alright then. Let's get this show on the road." Y/N begins striding off in the direction she's meant to.

Steve and Tony share a discreet head-nod before the Stark shoots up towards the sky again. Nat falls into step beside Steve and Vision rushes ahead of a jogging Y/N.

"Promise me one thing, Steve," Nat mutters lowly—low enough not to be heard by the radio ear pieces.

"What?"

"When this is all over, you'll ask her out."

Steve's eyes widen quickly. "Who?"

Nat scoffs despite the situation. She jerks her head up ahead to where Y/N is moving down the street. "Do it, Steve. It's been two years: it's about damn time you did something."

Steve is about to reply when the first alien of the long, long fight emerges from the smoke of the night. A high pitched scream, almost deafening to the human ear, rings like a piercing tire screech. An eight foot tall, four legged-thing with no visible eyes—only slits to breathe and screech—pounces at Vision who flies. They both tumble to the earth in the blink of an eye before a quick reaction from Y/N sends a bullet to the alien's back and leaves his gooey, heavy body toppled on Vision. Thick grey sludge that is meant to be blood pools in the cobblestone cracks of the street around the body.

"Here we go again," Nat mutters. She draws out a weapon and smiles over at Steve despite everything. "I'll take that as a promise, by the way. I'm expecting it now—don't disappoint me." And without leaving any room for argument she runs with all her might to join her agent friend as the first fight of the night begins.

Before Steve can follow, two aliens have appeared from behind. They snarl and pull back the fleshy slits of mouths until Steve can see the needle-like teeth that remind him of deep-sea fish. The alien race is less than intelligent—only ending up on earth because they were an enslaved race on a planet that loaded them up on a mining ship knocked off its path. The crash sent the wild, hungry, and violent creatures to Earth on accident, and their slave-keepers don't care enough to come across the galaxy to fetch the cheap, problematic property.

Now it's the Avenger's mess to clean.

Steve knocks down his two attackers with only a bit of effort on his part. While they are large, they don't fight strategically. Their sheer numbers and hunger that's led them to hunt on Parisian blood are the real problem.

"How many of these bastards do we think we've got to deal with?" Y/N's voice is in Steve's ear. He looks across the block where she shoots one in the head just as it swipes at it her with an extended claw. He flinches when the nails nearly make contact with her skin.

Shuri, who is communicating from back in Wakanda via earpiece, replies, "Based on footage, what we know and what we've seen, and the size of the ship—my estimation is a thousand, at least."

Y/N hums, "Okay. A thousand blood-thirsty aliens, a city of two million people, and a team of weirdos. This should be interesting." She turns around just in time to see another one of the sharp-teethed things barreling towards her. But before she can react, a yellow beam comes from the sky from Vision's forehead and slices the head clean off. Grey goo squirts up and rains down into her hair. "Gross," she mutters without thinking.

Bucky Barnes's voice is coming through the community earpiece. "Guys, we need backup. Hotel filled with civilians and no way to get out. Wanda's two blocks down getting people out of apartments. Sam and I are holding them off as best as we can, but they're getting stronger the higher in the building they go."

Y/N glances at the smart watch that Shuri gave her. It shows Bucky's coordinates with complete accuracy. "On my way, Barnes. Don't shit your pants before I get there."

Bucky grunts as he shoots another alien dead. "You really are an odd woman, Y/N."

Sam snorts between tossing aliens twenty stories out of a building—not caring to watch as they explode like grey paintballs on the ground. "That's why Steve likes her so much, man." Looks like Sam's forgotten—yet again—to turn on the closed circuit before saying something revealing to Bucky. Last time it'd been mid-fight against a bunch of brain-washed Hydra recruits when he'd asked Barnes how his "slumber party" with Romanoff had been the night before. Needless to say, that was the day the secret affair between Bucky and Natty became not-so-secret anymore.

Steve's so thrown off by Sam's comment he almost misses his cue from Nat for backup. He quickly rushes to her side to slice through the backs of three aliens with the sharp end of his shield before bringing himself back to his feet. "Just get the building cleared, guys. Let me know when you get there, Y/N."

All Sam can say is, "Oh shit. I did it again."

Y/N is trying to ignore all of the stupid conversation in her comm as she races to tallest building in this part of town. It almost seems as if it's instinct for the aliens to find high ground, and the poor Paris tourists are trapped on the highest floor of their building crying and praying for God to save them. Well, Y/N doesn't know about God, but she has faith that her friends—the weirdo Avengers—will be the ones to save the day. She's seen a lot worse with these fools at her side. And while they're all outcasts, they're certainly not losers: and Y/N doesn't plan on losing today.

"I'm here." Y/N has come to stop outside the building near the lobby doors. She can see people trying to stick their body parts out of the windows in an attempt to wave for help. Contradictory to their hopes, it only captures the attention of the simple-minded aliens who, like bulls and whipping red capes, see the challenge and race towards them with renewed hunger. "Sam—start loading the people up in tubs and beds and whatever else you can and take them down. The subway entrance is only forty feet away. Lead them there then go back for more. Bucky—stay where you are. I'm coming up to help."

Bucky responds, "I need you on the next floor up—I let a few slip through."

Y/N attempts at a joke as she races up the stairs towards the second highest floor of the building. "I get your leftovers? Rude." She stops upon arriving at the right floor and seeing the aliens clawing at the closed and locked door in the same stairwell—hearing people screaming from the other side.

"Hey!" she shouts. "Over here, you fucked-up alien slugs!" She waves her arms frantically until the five monsters spot her there behind. They screech and turn to chase her as she's planned. Then, she takes them to the hallway with all the opened hotel suite doors. The smell of blood and fear still lingers in the air here. She can hear Bucky shooting a floor below and children wailing above.

When the aliens try charging her she takes them down two at a time with a gun in each hand. When there's only one left she tosses an empty chambered gun away and pushes the alien back with a kick before blowing its head off.

"You're getting more company, Y/N," Bucky says.

"Keep it up, guys. I'm getting people out. Almost halfway cleared," Sam's voice is winded.

Y/N's eyes widen as she sees aliens pouring in from the opened windows of the hotel rooms and also from the stairwell where Bucky warned her they'd be coming.

"Hurry the hell up, Samuel." Y/N swallows heavily before readying herself to take it all: at least thirty aliens, each of them twice her size in weight and height, pour like grey lava into the hallway. She grabs a gun for each hand and prays they're loaded with enough bullets to take down the monsters that have flooded the room.

The aliens don't hesitate in attacking. They have no plans—only a thirst for blood. They clamber over each other on their way towards her. She takes down the closest ones first with a few bullets each. But each time a body falls it's only replaced by another. Soon, even more aliens are pouring through the windows as they scale the sides of the building towards the sounds of their brothers' battle cries. Y/N's drowning in a sea of sludge grey blood and alien body parts before long—her hair matted with sludge as she rolls out of the way of a slashing claw only to be kicked against the wall by a strange looking alien knee. She grunts—dropping one of her last weapons—and clutches her last pistol with both hands. Lying on her side beneath a decorative table she shoots blindly at the eyeless faces that crawl towards her in the low light. She feels like a child again for a moment: like her nightmares of monsters under the bed have true as she hides from the faces that chase her along the floor with hot breath that smells like decaying flesh and faces that look like something out of her worst PTSD dreams.

Y/N knows she's drowning. She's never lost anything before, but this must be what it feels like to be failing.

"Backup," Y/N pants breathlessly. "Backup, backup!" Her voice rises with panic as her gun runs out of bullets completely. She chucks the weapon at the face of the closest alien in attempt to get herself enough space to roll out from underneath the table and make a break for one of the hotel rooms—or at least bring herself back up to her feet.

She kicks the table down on top of her own body to keep herself sheltered. Glass from a vase splinters into her skin. She moves the table legs to either side of her as a shield she can hide behind. The table only provides enough protection to let her get to her feet before one of the aliens breaks through it with his open clawed fist. The swiping motion through the wood is fierce enough to pierce Y/N's skin through the thick material of her fighting suit. She grits her teeth, picking up one of the broken table legs, and begins knocking aliens around with her makeshift baton.

She can't even begin to count how many aliens are now in the same room. Fourty? Fifty? Too many to count, and there's too much to do to pause and do the math. All Y/N knows is that she's royally screwed.

That is, until Captain America arrives.

He appears almost out of nowhere, but Y/N surmises at the back of her mind that he had to have hitched a ride up with Sam and thrown himself through one of the broken windows. The sounds of his loud fighting style and the squealing of aliens falling has the ones closes to Y/N turning their heads. And while they're distracted, Y/N reaches up to catch the loaded gun that the Captain manages to throw her way. After that it's a much fairer game. A super soldier alongside a trained badass with her favorite weapon, a bad attitude, and a sense of searing hot pride versus a couple dozen amoeba-level intelligence aliens? Hardly a competition.

When the room is finally cleared enough to stand and take a deep breath in peace the Captain looks over to Y/N with palpable worry. "You okay?" he's slightly breathless.

Y/N nods. "Thanks for the backup."

Steve's blue eyes squint a bit as he smiles lightly. "Told you I'd have your back."

Y/N can't help but mimic his expression with a grateful smile.

"You two done dancing in there? I got the civilians cleared," Sam says on the radio.

Y/N's face flushes red with anger—smile suddenly gone. "What!? Now you've got it cleared, Wilson?! What about five minutes ago when I almost had my ass served on a silver platter to these alien freaks!? You couldn't have had it cleared then!?"

"Just get out the damn building, Y/N," Sam chuckles.

Steve jogs to the closest window. He looks over his shoulder at Y/N as she jumps over a few alien bodies to meet his side. A streak of lightening illuminates the sky. And with it, a cheer over the radio: "We've got godly company!" Nat eludes everyone to Thor's arrival.

"'Bout time he showed up," Steve says. He perches on the windowsill and reaches a hand out for Y/N to join him.

"Wait," Y/N stops Steve before he can step out onto the fire escape.

Steve pauses at her command. "What is it?" His hand is still out towards her.

Y/N looks back out to the lit-up sky. Thor's bursts of lightening make the city glow blue.

"I have an idea." She smiles smartly and Steve feels his heart skip a beat. "And, no offense, but it involves my favorite God."

Steve leaves the window to join Y/N fully in the building once more. "Alright. What's the plan," he pauses with a slight grin on his lips, "Agent Badass?"

Y/N laughs. "Oh, this is a hellishly blessed day."

...

The sunrise warms the bloodied cheeks of million sore, tired souls. But despite the ash that still hasn't fully settled over the beautiful city, it's with gratefulness to be alive and saved by the earthly saints called the Avengers and friends that lead the French to look up at the sky and cry at the mundane beauty that they've never truly seen in this way.

"You okay?"

Y/N glances over her shoulder at the man who's come to join her on one of the ledges of one of the last standing churches in Paris.

"I'm good. How'd you get up here?"

Steve comes to join her at her seat—legs hanging off the edge of the decorative balcony and his back pressed against the intricate stone carving. The ground is far, far away and the sky is close enough to reach, it seems.

"Sam gave me a lift—same as you."

Y/N nods. She looks out at the scenery of the still-smoldering background. In the distance she can see smoke billowing up from the building that was cooked up with a thousand wild aliens locked in between the walls like sardines in a can. It'd been her idea to try and entice the aliens into the same building for Thor to fry alive. It was instinct for the monsters to find higher ground, and also to follow anything moving and making sound. The hardest part was getting them all there at the same time and keeping them from finding hidden civilians while being corralled unknowingly towards their deaths.

"You were great out there today, Y/N," Steve says seriously. "We'd still be fighting those bastards if not for you."

"That's not very godly language, Captain," Y/N retorts playfully for lack of knowing what to say about the compliment.

Steve shakes his head with a small smile. "What can I say, Y/N: you bring out a different side of me."

Y/N finds herself staring too adoringly into the man's beautiful blue eyes that reflect the color of the early morning sky in all sorts of purple, teal, and grey. Tired and filled with relief, Y/N looks back at the city. Her head leans until it's resting safely on Steve's sturdy shoulder. He keeps looking out at the Eiffel Tower while she speaks. "I really didn't think anyone was going to come for me today. But there you were—in that dumb blue suit."

Steve smiles. He looks down to where her hands are on her lap. He reaches over to clasp his hands over her entwined ones for comfort. He wants her to know that he's here: he'll always be here. Just like she's been by his side for the last two years, he's vowed to stay by hers. "God has a funny way of working things out," is all he can think to say.

"No," Y/N replies. "That wasn't God: that was you." She turns her head up to smile at him softly. She doesn't miss how in this close proximity his eyes flicker to her lips. "Are you going to kiss me?" she whispers into the sunrise.

Steve's light chuckle is as quiet as the sunlight—pale but warm and healing everyone from the terrors of the night. "I was thinking about it," he admits quietly—eyes finding hers again.

"Thank god," she breathes. Then, Y/N reaches up to trail a finger under his chin to bring his lips to hers. And it's when they kiss that the sun reaches out over and fills the entire Parisian skyline with warm, bright-white light.