More agents in well-dressed attire flock in by the second, yet as low, puzzled murmurs are passed between one another, I meander stoically around the room and survey the crowds with an eye so sharp a hawk would be envious. The other agents give me a wide berth, and why wouldn't they? I'm still the new, strange, crazy, super-powered friend of the now wanted Captain America. The only friends I've made in this place are Lewis and, in the eyes of everyone else – including the people themselves – Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers. I'm still an enigma to the rest of the agency.

One woman seems to actually have some steel in her and comes to stand in waiting next to me, appearing as concerned about this as everyone else, perhaps even more so. Eyeing her purely due to boredom as I wait for Sitwell to make his grand announcement, I ask Blondie "Did you know him?"

She blinks owlishly at me, put off by my sudden attention on her and question. "I'm sorry?"

"Captain Rogers," I answer, opting to use his title formally to avoid being improper for someone of my status. I wouldn't care about formality usually, as you would all well know, but whilst I'm still in the SHIELD facility, it would be best to remain inconspicuous. "World's First Superhero; the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. Did you know him?"

"A bit, not much," Blondie replies, her tone, crossed arms and pace of blinking indicating she's trying to come off as friendly yet not too forth-coming. Predictable for a SHIELD agent. "You're... You're her, aren't you?"

Queue my confusion. "Eh?"

My expression must be amusing, judging by the soft chuckle that leaves a crack in her tough woman veneer. "You've only been here a few days over a month, but are already a closer friend with Captain Rogers than most of the agency. Even heard he specifically chose you to accompany him and Agent Romanoff on several of their missions."

I attempt to shrug off her curious scrutiny and interest, playing it off with humour like I always do. "With someone as broody and scary as Romanoff, he needs a woman with a charming personality and winning smile to balance out the camaraderie during fights."

Blondie lightly smiles, but mainly out of politeness. "Heard you also get on Rumlow's nerves, though not as much as your younger sister."

"Everyone gets on Rumlow's nerves, my sister and I just happen to do so the most creatively, and enjoy ourselves in the mean time," I proudly respond, earning a proper laugh from her this time.

For a few friendly moments, we smile in a companionable silence at one another, until Blondie sticks her hand out amicably. "Agent Sharon Carter, nice to meet you at last."

I accept the extended hand without a pause, Sharon already growing on me. "Special Agent Lillian Nightshade, glad to be of service."

"Eyes here!"

Sitwell's hounding, grating voice somehow manages to carry over the distressed mumbles and conversations jumping around the room, everyone falling silent from it in 0.5 seconds. Sharon and I both square Sitwell off warily, the blonde evidently not trusting the weasel anymore than I do.

"Whatever your op is, bury it," he demands, face as grave and serious as the dead. "This is Level One. Contact DOT. All traffic lights in the district go red. Shut all runways at BWI, IAD and Reagan. All security cameras in the city go through this monitor right here." He juts his thumb to the large screen behind him, barely tearing his gaze away from us for but a moment. "Scan all open sources; phones, computers, PDAs, whatever. If someone tweets about this guy, I want to know about it."

Surely these people aren't buying this bull?

My own scepticism is apparent in the way I quietly snort at Sitwell's cute speech, only Sharon catching onto it due to her close proximity to me, and apparently, Sharon has had quite enough of Sitwell's blathering as well. Tensely, she grows impatient in her silence and removes her hands from her waist, blurting out "With all due respect, if SHIELD is conducting a manhunt for Captain America we deserve to know why."

"Preach it gurl," I mutter inaudibly under my breath, arms crossed over my dark brown hoodie and short amber hair occasionally dusting in from of my face.

"Because he lied to us."

Ah yes, the royal dick prick of the hour has arrived; Sir Alexander Pierce-s My Ears With His Lies And HYDRA Bullshit.

All eyes, including my own, swivel to Director Alexander Pierce waltzing into the room with all the command of a Director of the two largest espionage agencies on the planet should have. I've never met him in person, but Fury often talked about him as I grew up. Always held him in such a high esteem, that is, until he revealed he was in fact a HYDRA agent and tried to have Fury and several million people killed. People have their flaws, but this guy is a walking, talking, living flaw.

"Captain Rogers has information regarding the death of Director Fury," he goes on, taking his time entering the room. "He refused to share it. As difficult as this is to accept, Captain America is a fugitive from SHIELD."

"Bull," I mumble once again, wanting nothing more than to stick his lies right up his ass where his head already resides, but will my tongue to remain as silent as I can. I've been on enough assignments and missions as an assassin to know when and how to steel my tongue against matters that are close to my heart personally, but I find keeping my trap shut a lot harder when the personal matter includes lies about the man I love. It's like the few times I had to remain quiet when I was undercover and I heard targets or charges talk shit about Ally.

A faint buzz from my phone comes from the front pocket – or 'muff' as they are apparently called – of my pullover hoodie, and upon slipping it out, I find two messages; one from Stella, and one from the wanted Captain himself. Good to know I'm apparently on his 'Nice' list of trusted friends.

Steve's message merely tells me to meet up with him at some hospital partway across the city, whilst Stella's demands that I quickly drop by the local Parks Hotel – apparently, my suit has yet again been upgraded.

Whilst I'm opening Steve's message however, I note Sharon's inquisitive eye drop to my screen, quick to read who it's from before finding my hazel gaze again. A sly, encouraging smile quirks the corner of her lips, and suddenly, the SHIELD agent acts as if she had never seen a thing and continues about her day as she was before, only throwing me a "Nice meeting you Agent Nightshade," as she wanders away.

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I shoulder my backpack securely before departing with a grin myself, choosing to ignore Director Pierce's heavy eyes settling on my back the whole way out.

***

Not much has been altered to my suit, but it seems that Stella and Lucas had won in an argument against Chase and Jordan in removing the large leather trench coat from the suit entirely; it restricted movement and aerodynamics unfortunately, despite looking completely badass. The actual suit itself still is made of a reinforced tri-polymer and lined with a polymer Kevlar weave – which basically looks like leather but is far more resistant – and is still form hugging to allow for aerodynamics, but now it covers ever inch of my body until half way up my neck, my long, fingerless, electro-shock gloves worn over it on my forearms. As I said, not much is altered, the half-ski mask which alters my voice and filters gases yet remains as well, but it's the colour scheme that catches me off guard.

Black is still the predominant colour, but instead of being accentuated and highlighted in a lighter black in some parts, it's instead highlighted in a lighter, softer brown. Brown and black.

"I never understood why you went with red and black," Stella confessed upon handing over the new suit. "Actual nightingales are brown. Thought it was about time you looked the part."

I rush to the hospital after that, finding a very-not-so-sly Steve Rogers in a – oh, guess what? Blue hoodie. Blue. Captain America, the hero who wears red, white and blue, is in hiding and wearing a blue hoodie. There's a reason Brucie and Tony are the brains of the Avengers.

He bathes in the shadows of the bustling hospital building, gesturing me over with his head subtly upon spying me in the parking lot. My pace is casual as I amble on over to him, trying to slip in a few words before he starts talking. "The whole agency is on lockdown, and Pierce seems to be playing the jealous boyfriend of the recently deceased Director Fury just because he wasn't there n Fury's last few moments—"

His grip is rough and abrupt, immediately yanking me from my little tangent and lightly slamming me into the wall he was resting on out of the public eye. Beautiful blue eyes narrow in on me accusingly, and despite the person holding me forcefully being Steven Grant Rogers, I still exhale unhappily at the heated gaze and unnecessary force cast my way. "Cut the wit and sarcasm for a moment. You've only been at SHIELD for just over a month. You know no one outside the STRIKE team, your team, Natasha and I—"

"Untrue, I know a scientist named Dr Lewis Thompson and made friends with an Agent Sharon Carter today."

"— so why, in Fury's last moments, did he use his last dying breath to say 'Get Lillian Nightshade, and get out. Don't trust anyone'?"

I blink owlishly at the super soldier towering over me. He said that? Nicky actually said that? Why in the hell would he say that!? How am I supposed to explain that Nicky!?

"Fury has known Tony Stark longer than anyone else in the Avengers," are the words that involuntarily tumble from my mouth, years of pathological lying and responding to accusations levelly catching up to me. "SHIELD has always worked close with Stark Industries, after all, Margaret Carter founded SHIELD and she was always close with Howard Stark. Fury checked up on Tony several times during his life, more often once he took up the mantle of Iron man. I've been a key part of Tony's life for quite some time now, and it didn't take long for Fury to find out about me once I had become a part of Tony's life. I've known Fury almost as long as I've known Tony, and having known Nick since my teenage years, I've grown up with him as another family figure – almost. It's only recently that I agreed to work for SHIELD after years of hounding me."

"Why did he act so suspicious of you at the beginning then? Like he didn't know you?" Steve perplexedly asks, the iconic brow furrow starting to take form on his face.

"To have known me and not put me in the official SHIELD records is against SHIELD regulations," I calmly answer, the numbing sound of ambulances and people rushing about blurred to my ears. "He wanted me to have a normal life for as long as I could before being found out. He tried recruiting me on several occasions, of course, but I refused. I had and still have a younger sister to take care of. Therefore, to act as if we had never known one another until I was officially recruited was for the best." Falling silent for a few seconds, I look Steve up and down curiously, taking in his softening features. "I would trust Nicholas Fury with my life, Steve. He didn't always do what was right, but what was right wasn't always what needed to be done. Under that menacing scowl and alarming one-eyed glare is a beating, taciturn heart that truly cares for others."

"I know," Steve murmurs, finally releasing me and taking a step back as he briefly faces away with his eyes a thousand miles away in thought. "I know."

I allow him some time to think and mull over the information I gave him, before filling him in on how I have Adelaide, Sam and Lewis still working on the inside for us. As I explain, I feel a soft wave of nausea wash over me, strong enough that Steve seems to notice. "Are you okay? You look a bit pale."

I wave off his concern, the nausea undoubtedly a result of my lack of sleep and having not eaten anything today. "Fine, don't worry about me Steve. I assume you asked to meet here for a reason though?"

"Yes, I did. Follow me," he nods his head in the direction of the entrance to the hospital, and not too long later, both of us are prowling the hospital hallways with our hoods drawn up, him explaining how Fury left a hard drive with Steve before dying.

"I wasn't sure if anything would happen to me once I was back at the Triskelion, so I hid the drive in this vending machi—" he cuts himself off mid sentence, coming to a jarring stop in front of the vending machine I presume he was talking about.

Peeking over his burly shoulder, I follow his gaze to spy an empty slot where he, knowing our luck, had left the drive. Predictable, Murphy's Law at its finest.

"It's not here," Steve breathes in a hushed tone, level panic seeping its way into his voice.

"Your skills of observation never cease to impress me Steve," I sarcastically comment, close to a deadpan.

He glares at me in the reflection cast by the machine, until unexpectedly; one Natasha Romanoff also appears in the reflection, blowing a rather large bubble of gum. Her expression could be compared to that of a cat that had got to the canary. I merely blink before Steve has impatiently grabbed Natasha to drag her into a small, empty, dark room, his other hand more lightly tugging me along with him.

Steve's face is anything but kind at the moment, but this time, as he slams Natasha into the frame of another door inside the small room, it isn't pinned on me. "Where is it?"

"Safe."

"Do better." Damn, I haven't seen Steve this angry and accusatory since he was hunting me as an assassin.

"Where did you get it?" Nat asks, completely disregarding Steve's expression of intimidation and acrimony in favour of her own curiosity.

"Why would I tell you?"

A silent gasp followed by a gaping mouth comes from the Russian assassin, her eyes surveying Steve up and down. "Fury gave it to you. Why?"

Aaannddd queue my facepalm. Steve couldn't keep a straight, give-nothing-away face if his life depended on it. Too pure for this world sometimes.

"What's on it?" He presses, moving in on Nat even further.

"I don't know."

"Stop lying."

"I only act like I know everything Rogers."

"Friendly reminder that I still exist," I decide I pipe in, leaning against the wall besides Natasha and eyeing the two of them precariously. I go unnoticed however, for Steve only continues to press.

"I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?"

She hesitates, blinking quite a few times before piecing things together herself. "Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you."

Aggressively, Steve jolts Natasha, scowling threateningly. "I'm not going to ask you again."

Okay... Aggressive Steve? Kinda hot, not going to lie. Probably why I ended up attracted to him in the first place, whilst we were still enemies.

Another hesitation on behalf of the red-head, before she seems to come to a decision of her own and reveals "I know who killed Fury."

Immediately, Steve loosens up. It's easy to see Natasha is actually at least slightly intimidated by the super solider, if her heavy breathing is anything to go by. Yet as his grip on her weakens until his hands fall to his sides altogether, Nat regains her composure and further elaborates. "Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists. The ones who do call him the Winter Soldier—"

Pretty sure she's talking about Santa Clause, and I'm also pretty sure that he does exist.

"— He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years."

Steve's face immediately drops with the last few words, falling back into a deadpan. "So he's a ghost story."

"No," I chime in, finally garnering the attention of the other two in the room. "He does exist. Seen him first hand. Whoever he works for found out about my special abilities, and wanted me either recruited or dead. It's why I've been remaining low for the past several years. Has this... metal arm with a red Soviet star on it and everything."

"You've seen this guy?" Steve asks, my input for some strange reason seeming to give this 'ghost story' more credit.

"She's not the only one," Natasha adds on, looking grateful for my contribution. "Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out my tyres near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out. But the Winter Soldier was there... I was covering my engineer so he shot him, straight through me." Her hands deftly lift the corner of her shirt up to expose a rather gnarly scar on the front of her hip. "Soviet slug. No rifling." She lists, a weak smile tilting at her lips. "Bye-bye bikinis."

The super soldier's stare resembles that of a marginally sarcastic deadpan. "Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now."

Yet again, an uncomfortable but brief silence strangles the very air between the three of us. Well, more accurately the two of them, considering the fact that I appear to be invisible at the moment.

"Going after him is a dead end. I know, I've tried," the Russian assassin declares, evidently knowing Steve's exact thoughts in that moment as she holds the drive between the two of them. "Like you said, he's a ghost story."

"Ghosts are generally depicted as spirits who enjoy haunting people," I intervene plainly, my voice in a very matter-of-fact tone. "They haunt you once you start poking around their turf or meddling with the affairs that keep them connected to this world." By now, both Steve and Natasha are looking at me like I'm taking this metaphor way too seriously. Snorting and rolling my eyes, I pointedly stare at the drive and further explain "Poke around his turf, meddle in his affairs, and you'll guide the Winter Soldier right to you. It's only a matter of time."

The smile Steve wears is a rather knowing one, a smile that I have grown all too accustomed to. It's his planning smile. "Well, let's find out what the ghost wants."

A/N: Eyyy guys, long time no see/read! School, as always, even during the holidays, has kept me occupied, so despite the short chapter I thought you lot deserved something at least.

I wonder though, if I could ask a few of you for a small favour?? Briefly, I was wondering what the word 'community' means to you. I have to give a very brief speech on it to my school (yes, the whole school, yay -_- ) and my brain is so dead right now I've kinda drawn a blank. Any ideas or saying that stick out to you about community?? Would love to hear them! If not, I'm sure I can manage to pull something out of my slowly withering brain.

QOTD: Fave classic movie? (As in, movies that will go down in history e.g. Harry Potter, Star Wars, the Godfather, etc.)

AOTD: Probs the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Been getting back into those lately, and trying to read the books when I can.

Thanks for reading and that's all for now, bye! :) xxx

~ T.L