I wake up back in the medical wing. I had apparently pushed myself too far. The recall part was fine – they suspect the problem was with analyzing each of the over one thousand pictures and calculating their order. Basically, my brain overheated due to insufficient RAM and burned through a lot more of the serum than normal. That's what I got from what Doctor Reilly said, anyway. But I was falling asleep while she tried to explain, so I could be way off.

That's another side effect of the brain juice injections – every time after it 'activates', I crash pretty hard. It's especially hard today what with the pushing-myself-so-hard-my-brain-leaked thing. Yeah, I thought normal nosebleeds were gross enough... Bleck.

After Doctor Reilly, Bruce, and Tony ran all of their tests, they finally left me to sleep. I've been asleep for I don't know how long, when my door opens again. As I am grumpy to be woken and my brain feels like someone's been using it for a football, I ignore it and hope they go away. They don't. Two sets of footsteps move towards me, stopping a few feet away.

"It's like we can't let her out of our sight for a minute. Every time I turn around, she's in a hospital," Steve whispers.

"Gee, what's that like?" James asks dryly, matching Steve's whisper.

There's a pause as I imagine Steve makes a face.

"If you're going to be a couple of helicopter moms, could you hover silently?" I ask, cracking an eye to peer at them. "Or placate me with fresh pancakes and a side of bacon," I amend, sitting up as I see what they've brought me.

James gives a small grin as Steve wheels over my tray with a stack of pancakes. I'd be lying if I said my mouth wasn't watering. I take an overly large bite. Apple cinnamon. So good.

I eye the boys beside me. "You just gonna stand there and watch me eat? That's uh, a little weird." I take another bite. "But it's not gonna slow me down. These are amazing! Where did they come from?"

They pull up a couple of chairs and sit down by my bed. "Steve's better in the kitchen than he lets on," James explains.

"He certainly is." I look to Steve as I spear another bite. He's smiling crookedly and looking a little bashful at the compliment. "You should make me breakfast every day." There's an awkward pause as I freeze and James smirks knowingly at me from the other side of Steve. "Because I'm so very entitled." I clear my throat. "So, did they figure anything out about my fits of supercomputer tendencies?"

Steve nods. "It seems that when the serum is active you're able to recall anything you've seen or experienced."

I nod back. I remember saying something like that during the test.

"But," Steve continues, "after seeing the footage from SHIELD and hearing about what happened in the Hydra base, Doctors Banner and Reilly believe that it's more than just recall. They think that, while the serum is active, by instantly recognizing patterns and making connections you can predict the outcome of a situation and how to best manipulate it to a different conclusion - and the 'mostly adrenaline' injection may also be heightening your processing and reaction speed."

I blink. "They're saying I can predict the future?"

James shrugs. "Yes and no. You can predict the most logical outcome- and only while the serum is active. So, someone or something could still take you by surprise if you weren't already amped up or if they did something totally unexpected and untelegraphed." He smirks and glances to Steve. "Like, hypothetically, if Steve here were to just lean over and plant one on ya."

I choke loudly on my pancake.

There's a thump and a groan as Steve sharply elbows James while I guzzle some milk to stop my coughing.

After clearing my throat, I try to get back on track. "So," I look up at the ceiling to keep the choking-induced tears from running down my face (also, there's no way I'm making eye contact with either of them at the moment), "I guess that would explain what I 'saw' when Nat was fighting the agents off. But that doesn't really explain how I could, could react the way I did."

"It sort of makes sense, actually," Steve answers a bit timidly. I look over to see him lightly pink in the face, studying his hands. When he looks back up at me, I glance away.

This is like being thirteen all over again.

"How so?" James asks for me.

"Well, Anne has taken self-defense classes for the past six years. Not only has she been actively learning defense techniques, she's been observing how the body responds and building a sort of subconscious library," Steve finishes with a shrug.

"Not to mention all those cheesy action flicks she watches," James adds with a laugh.

I turn to glare at him. "Jackie Chan is not 'cheesy', he's fabulous and he does all of his own stunts."

James snorts. "So do I."

My nose crinkles. "You don't count."

"Anyway," Steve interjects, "the serum's reaction shouldn't be a danger to you unless you push yourself too hard, like yesterday. Although, Fury still wants them to evaluate your physical responses when you're healed to see how far your mind can push your body." He doesn't look very happy about this.

"So I'm a lab rat until further notice?" I ask around a mouthful of bacon. Manners are forgotten again – I'm ravenous. Also, bacon. "Why do they wanna run so many tests? It's not like the serum- it really needs a proper name, by the way –will last forever, right?"

"Bruce seems to think it'll eventually metabolize completely out of your system. But there's no real way to tell when, if ever, that would be," James confirms.

I swallow another bite of pancake as I try to push away the memory of Bill mentioning something about me going into withdrawal from the drug. "So why is everyone so interested in it if it's just gonna go away?" I ask in confusion.

Steve's jaw tightens. "They think that if you aren't a threat, you might be useful to them until then."

"Who, SHIELD?" Fury had said something about that by the elevator. "You don't think they'd really want me as an agent or anything, right?"

Neither of them answers.

"I thought SHIELD was an intelligence agency. The very first word in their acronym is 'Strategic'. If they want me to work for them, clearly they're bad at their job."

"They're just interested in your possibilities so far," James clarifies.

"But we aren't going to let them make you another tool in their toolbox," Steve promises.

"Of course they want me – look at me – I'm a paragon of James Bondliness," I say flatly. "I'm sure they'll change their minds if they ever see me acting normally."

The boys stay and tell me about some of their stories from before the war; only the light stuff, though. Like how James once got slapped across the face by some girl because she thought he was bullying Steve.

"She just didn't understand the dynamics of our friendship," James explains, slinging an arm around Steve's shoulders.

"I'm not even sure I do sometimes," Steve says, eyeing James with a dry smile.

James grins and gives Steve's hair a ruffle. "Well, let's be honest, she wasn't completely wrong. And," his grin turns cocky, "I did end up taking her out for ice cream afterwards."

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A/N: It's everyone's favorite kind of chapter - almost pure exposition! Exciting, wasn't it? I figured that if I gave all of the explaining to Steve and Bucky that would make it be at least a smidgen more entertaining to read.

Also, I freaking love Bucky, so, really I'll take almost any excuse to write more for him. I kind of want to write out that whole 'meets a girl by being slapped by her, ends up taking her out for ice cream' scene... Hopefully you found him as delightful here as I do.

If not, well that's fine too, since this story is mostly about Anne anyway. Just know that I'll be silently judging you for not loving Bucky. Then again, you may just not like my representation of Bucky...hmm...that's entirely possible.

Anyway.

Did I explain things well enough in this chapter? It all makes sense in my head, but sometimes when I write it out I forget how much people know or have inferred from what I've already written.