February, 2015. 

Gdansk, Poland. 

I braced myself at the door and took a breath before turning my key in the lock. There was a chance Bucky was asleep, but it was a small one. He had cussed in five different languages and then promised he would wait up for me.

I pushed the door open, tapping it with my hip as it stuck in the usual place. Sure enough, a lamp was on, and Bucky was sat on the edge of the bed with his head buried in one of his notebooks. He glanced up as I came in, but he was focused on whatever memory he had recovered and getting it written down. The lamp was dim enough to hide my face, thankfully.

"How'd it go?" he asked shortly. Obviously he was still mad at me for not letting him tag along.

"Just fine," I replied in kind. He shut the notebook harshly and tossed it onto the dresser across the room. Regardless of which hand he used, his aim was always perfect. "You didn't have to wait up."

"If you're not going to let me go with you to these meetings, I'm at least going to wait for you to come home," he said. I rolled my eyes and sat my bag down on the floor. I removed my new gun from the waistband of my pants and laid it on the bedside table. "So, you got a gun?"

Coming into Poland was a little difficult. Guns, especially unlicensed, illegally carried guns were a bit of a no-no. Sadly, all three guns were confiscated as soon we went through Polish customs. Luckily, there are morally corrupt people willing to take bribes anywhere. An easily bribed customs agent quietly grabbed all three guns I had packed with me before also taking a brick of cash. He had mimed zipping his lips and winked at me. Before I could cause a scene, Bucky nudged me further along in the line.

"Only the one. I've got another rendezvous tomorrow night to pick up ammo," I answered. I sat down on the edge of the bed and began untying my shoes. I was right in the path of the light from the lamp. The redness on my cheek was easy to see. Bucky saw it and did a double-take. He sighed quietly, closed his notebook, and stood up only to kneel in front of me. I didn't flinch as his metal hand began gently testing the swelling skin over my cheekbone.

"Is this how you pay them? Letting them beat you?" he asked. I didn't look at him. "This is ridiculous. You just keep getting shiners."

"I don't let them do anything, thank you," I snapped. I left the bed so I could take a shower, but continued lecturing at Bucky. "It's how the shadows work, and I've already explained that. Some people help because they can, others want money. But most want favors, and I was doing someone a favor."

"What was the favor?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask," I admitted. Bucky followed me to the bathroom door and stood in the threshold, preventing me from closing it. My glare didn't chase him away, so I went ahead with undressing myself. He was waiting for a better explanation. "Can I shower?"

He smirked, the bastard. I was standing in front of him in all my naked glory, and he smirked.

"Sure. But I'm staying to talk," he warned me. I cursed his name under my breath and stepped into the shower. The water was as lukewarm as I'd come to expect from the Gdansk loft, but it felt nice compared to the chill outside

"You know, I miss the days when I had to drag a conversation out of you," I told him as I backed myself into the water to wet my hair. My roots had grown out enough in Copenhagen to warrant dyeing my hair back to something similar to my natural color.

"I know. Trust me, I know," he laughed. "What was the favor?"

"Break in to someone's house," I answered. I was nearly out of shampoo. No, I was completely out. Bucky wasn't though, and so I stole some of his. "Steal something."

"How'd you get a shiner then?"

I stuck my bubble-covered head out of the shower to see him still leaning against the door frame. "That's the second time in less than an hour you've said shiner. The year is 2015, Buck."

He rolled his eyes while I went back to rinsing my hair.

"My sort of ally warned me I might have company if I went in. The company was six foot three and 250 pounds," I told Bucky. I grabbed my washcloth from the shower curtain rod and began to wash my face.

"And I can't go with you why exactly?" he challenged. I gave him his turn to rant as I scrubbed the feeling of impromptu sparring off my body. "That's right, because I'm still too recognizable. Or not all of these people are very nice. And I don't care right now. You have to go to these low-lifes and let them send you God knows where or extort God knows how much money from you. I fully realize that you're trying to protect me, but I can protect myself and help you protect yourself. I'm willing to take that risk, Gail."

My blood nearly boiled. I knew he'd risk life and limb for anyone he was loyal to, but I had never been able to make him realize how dangerous it could be to let him into the shadows.

I shut the water off roughly and grabbed a towel. It was scratchy and leftover from uniform issue at basic. Desert tan, a tattered hem, and a hole right in the middle. I ran it over my arms and legs and wrapped it around my chest. Bucky and I tried to limit the peep shows to one a day.

He watched as I stepped out and crossed the small room to the sink and chipped mirror.

"You're right," I told him. He stared at my back while I brushed out my hair and dried the ends with a matching, holey wash cloth. "You are too recognizable, and not all those people are good people. And when someone as morally ambiguous as myself says that, then oh boy you better believe it."

I spun around from the mirror, pointing my hair brush at Bucky like a teacher from his past with a ruler in her hand. I was keeping my voice low, but I could tell by the way his eyes were slightly wider than normal that I was making him nervous.

"And you're right that I'm trying to protect you. I knew that money would be enough to get help from most, so I saved what I could. And I brought my guns to Canada and Scotland because I knew all the money in world wouldn't be enough for some; I knew there would be times when I would need every advantage I could to get out of hairy situations. The guy who got me a gun here in Poland? He wanted me to kill someone. Three someones actually. I whored myself out to a contract assassin who needed to be patched up after she got into it with a rival. It all runs in circles once you get to a certain depth," I whispered. There was only so much our neighbors needed to hear through the walls. "Once I got the passport I had to pay that off too."

"Gail--"

"It gets worse," I said. "Not everyone in the shadows comes from SHIELD or something similar. There's Hydra out there, and I don't know who is who. Do you know what you're worth to Hydra?"

Bucky quietly stared over my shoulder, so I answered the question for him.

"A shit ton more than what I pay for a name or a gun or a couple bullets. So stop asking to go with me," I ordered. My bottom lip was shaking, a sure sign I'd start crying soon. I looked down at my feet, the mirror image of Bucky's. "Will you bring me some clothes to sleep in?"

He nodded mutely and left me at the bathroom door. He came back a few minutes later with one of his long sleeved shirts and my fleece tights.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. He reached for my hand, and I let him take it. He pulled me to his chest and hugged me, the stack of clothes separating us. I felt him kiss my head at the same time a tear fell down my cheek. He backed away and left me to get dressed in peace.

I towel dried my hair the best I could in a few minutes and brushed my teeth after getting dressed. I avoided the mirror. I didn't like those nowadays.