Bucky couldn't sleep; admittedly that was nothing unusual, but still.........He had taken the pillows and blankets from the bed and placed them on the floor. Even after all this time, he was still not used to sleeping in real beds; and even though the thick shag pile carpet beneath him was proving comfortable enough, the sand man, as his mom would say when he was younger, had yet to come calling. It wasn't that he hadn't tried, he had; really, he had. But there was still that anger, anger at Stark for sucking up to a woman that could be more dangerous than Red Skull, himself, and anger at Steve too. His best friend coming to his room, trying to persuade him that perhaps Stark had a point. That Fury had given them those orders. That they were there to try and bring her in, to change her thoughts and get her to work with them. Yet the idea of it, just stuck in his craw.

He knew that Steve was right; yet Steve didn't know Hydra like he did. Could this Daughter of Hydra ever break the brainwashing that had been done to her ever since she came out of her test tube; or however the Hydra scientists had brought her into being. But...........Bucky pushing himself up onto his elbows, his dog tags sending a cold shiver down his spine, as they touched the bare skin of his chest; hadn't the brainwashing he had gone through been broken? Wasn't he more like his old self, than he had ever been? And if he and Stark could work together after it was discovered that the Winter Soldier had killed Howard and Maria, then couldn't he and the child of Johann Schmidt? The old soldier sighing, as he pulled the covers from his form and got to his feet, before making his way over to the window. The lights of the harbour far below, catching his attention.

Maybe he could go for a walk in the gardens, get some air; try and clear his mind? Maybe he could find the kitchen and try his moms old remedy for sleeplessness, warm milk. Though how safe that would be when he was in a mansion that was supposedly controlled by Hydra, he didn't know; but given that the whole of the large house had been gone over by the team and nothing had been found, the sergeant decided to test his luck. Bucky making his way to the door of his room, and out into the dimly lit corridor.

                                                            >>------------------------------------<<

Bucky sat at the large kitchen, nursing the glass of hot milk in his hand. The mansion was eerily quiet; no guards walking around to make sure that the guests in the house, couldn't go where they weren't wanted. That were there to stop them from finding out what was really going on in this place. In fact, there was nothing out of place at all; and if they hadn't been told that this (Y/n) was supposedly the one that could bring Hydra to the fore, then it would just feel like that they had all been invited to the house of one of Stark's over privileged pals. But despite the peace; despite the ordinariness of the whole thing, he couldn't help but still think that there was something.............

"O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, that thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, and steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, and hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, under the canopies of costly state, and lull'd with sound of sweetest melody.................?" A voice suddenly came. The glass of warm milk flying across the room, as Bucky jumped to his feet.

                                                         >>-----------------------------------<<

(Y/n) stood at the window, looking out over the view that stretched before her. The lights from the harbour flickering and twinkling as the parties that were being held on the multimillion dollar boats, were undoubtedly still in full swing. Sleep was never something that had come easy to her; but tonight, Hypnos was nowhere to be found. Her mind, her thoughts perhaps preventing the god from undertaking his nightly duties.

There was so much she wanted to do; but she couldn't just rush in, couldn't just say what she wanted to say there and then. For if she did, it could all end very badly. She had to get them alone, away from prying eyes; and then, then she could put her plan to work. But, when she did, would they believe her? It did, after all, sound ludicrous, even to her; especially given who and what she was. Yet she had to try; it had taken her so long to get to this point, that now she had to take the chance.

Suddenly she turned, a slight creak of the floorboards on the floor above attracting her attention; it obvious that a guest was on the move. (Y/n) turning off the lamp that she had been reading by and making her way to the door of the study. The Daughter of Hydra carefully, quietly opening the ingress just enough so that she could catch a glimpse of the late-night wanderer. Barnes, of all of them, why Barnes? The animosity that she had spoken of earlier to Otto that came from the former Winter Soldier, was palpable. She could feel it in the air; she was sure that she could even taste his dislike for her. Yet they were in the mansion so that she could study them, and what better way to study the assassin, than follow him; than to take the opportunity to speak with him, alone. (Y/n) watching as he made his way in the direction of the kitchens. The Daughter of Hydra waiting for a while before following after him.

                                                       >>-------------------------------------<<

Slowly, she pushed open the door; the old soldier seemingly lost in thought as she made her way into the room. It was hard to believe looking at him in this moment, that he had ever been Hydra's feared assassin; for here, now, he looked like a lost little boy, with a warm glass of milk, slowly going cold, clutched between his fingers.

"O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, that thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, and steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, and hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, under the canopies of costly state, and lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?" She said, cursing her need for the dramatic, as the old soldier jumped to his feet, sending the glass of milk flying from the table. The pair standing there, quietly, just looking at one another.