INDY

Dennis McKay was a pretty moron.

He took me to a horrendously expensive restaurant, where the only thing on the menu I recognized was the word chicken. He talked a lot. Mostly about sailing on his father’s yacht, playing polo, and the drama between his other rich friends. I can admit to a healthy level of fascination with that last one.

I’d worked out a fake identity for the sake of this date, just in case he was more in-the-know than expected. As far as he knew, I was Gemma Hansen, an innocent bookstore clerk. I didn’t need to worry. He barely gave me time to answer the question, “Where are you from?” before launching into an extensive description of the different luxurious homes he’d been shuffled to and from as a child.

I almost felt sorry for him. From the sounds of it, he had been treated as just another asset by his father. And now that his father was gone, and all of his holdings had fallen to him, there was no one and nothing to keep him from discovering the dark truth behind the companies his father had invested in. Nothing but his own blissful ignorance. How long did this vapid rich boy have until he started seeing unexplainable returns on those investments? What were the terms his father had agreed to?

Unfortunately for me, every business-related question I managed to slip into the conversation received the same borderline sexist dismissal. Like I couldn’t understand because I was a woman. When the ironic fact was, I could probably run his company better than he could.

I sipped my wine and smiled vacantly, and he noticed nothing. Apparently, he was used to marionette-like behavior from the women he dated. With dinner over, I considered texting Bucky and asking him to call with some emergency I had to ditch the date for. But I had gotten almost no information. He had to know something, even if he didn’t realize it.

When we left the restaurant, I slid my hand onto Dennis’s arm, leaning a little more heavily on him than necessary.

“I think maybe I drank more wine than I thought,” I giggled breathily, smiling up at him.

His grin was slow and self-assured. “We should probably get you somewhere you can sit down, then. My place isn’t far from here.”

He turned, and I thought he was hailing a cab when he raised his hand to the street, but a black car with tinted windows pulled up next to the curb. When he slid into the back seat next to me, I put my hand gently on top of his leg, hoping I came off as shy and drunk and not just awkward.

His “place” was a penthouse suite at the top of the Equinox. The light hardwood floor clicked beneath my heels, broken up here and there by gray throw rugs. There was a living room, sitting room, dining room, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom… the place was bigger than the apartment I lived in before moving to the compound.

Dennis leaned back against the doorway when we entered, hands in his pockets as he watched me gazing in awe at the view from the open balcony doors. Beige curtains fluttered in the wind, lights far below in the distance twinkled and blinked. The sounds of the city were muffled up here. Still present, but more like someone had thrown a thick blanket over everything.

I wandered over to the balcony, which wrapped around the corner of the building, apparently accessible from farther into the suite. I made sure to keep a safe distance back from the rail. The height made my pulse jump, but I couldn’t resist seeing everything stretch off into the night so far away. Dennis’s footsteps stopped just behind me.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

It’s terrifying. But yes, it is beautiful.

“Mm,” I nodded, turning to smile at him. The wind blew past then, blowing my dress skirt back a little.

His eyes didn’t miss that, or the shiver that drew my arms in closer. He held a hand out to me. “Why don’t we go inside? I can get us some drinks and we can… talk.”

His smile told me he hoped for more than talking. But I nodded and took his hand. He had a chunky silver ring on that dug into my finger.

I glanced down the hall toward his bedroom as we walked back into the living room. There was a laptop on his nightstand. If I was this guy, that’s where I’d keep sensitive information I didn’t know how to handle.

All I needed was a distraction. He turned on the electric fireplace and pulled me closer to him by the hand he still held. The orange light caught on his features, making him look more intense than he had the natural capability for. His eyes dragged down to my mouth just slow enough that I knew what he wanted. Maybe if I gave it to him, I could get him out of here and sneak into that laptop.

So I bit my lip coyly and pulled at his tie with one hand, tilting my head to the side. “Are you thinking about kissing me, Dennis?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, and he raised a hand, skimming his knuckles over my cheekbone. “I am. If I tried to, would you let me?”

I smiled past my discomfort and nodded. “I would.”

He smiled wider and leaned down.

There were worse things than kissing a hot, rich guy who may or may not be complicit to evil. His lips were nice, soft. And his movements were as confident as the rest of him. It had been a while since the last time I’d dated anyone. At least a year before the blip. Maybe I fell into that kiss a little too easily. I found myself leaning against him more and more, spiraling into the trap of enjoying how his hands felt on my back and waist.

Finally, I remembered my purpose here, and pulled away. The fire that reflected in his eyes now seemed born there, ready to devour me. Over his shoulder, I saw the lights of the city again. But there, at the edge of the balcony, blotting out the light… was that-? No. There’s no way. The next time I blinked, whatever I thought I’d seen was gone. I cleared my throat and took a small step back, holding a hand to my forehead.

“Sorry, I- I don’t usually…”

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry on my account. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll go see if I can find us some wine?”

More wine? After I’d just acted like a touch-starved teenager? This guy is really hoping to get lucky. I watched him head toward the kitchen, which was blessedly far from the bedroom. Fighting my own nerves, I slid my heels off and hooked my finger through their straps so I didn’t lose them. Then I padded my way down the hallway with my heart in my throat.

The laptop was password protected, but I had come prepared. I slipped a small thumb drive out of the strap of my dress and plugged it in, tapping my fingertips agitatedly against the edge of the screen. I could still hear glass and bottles clinking around in the kitchen, as well as muted muttering, so hopefully he was having issues with whatever he was doing in there.

I glanced up at the bedroom window across from me. It was open. How often did this guy leave his windows and doors open? I barely had time to wonder about it before a hand covered my mouth. I struggled and yelled, “No!” into the hand that covered my mouth, but a harsh “shh” made me freeze.

I reached up and pulled the hand from my mouth with no resistance. “Bucky?!” I whispered sharply. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Helping you,” he answered, just as quietly.

“I don’t need help. You don’t even know what I’m doing here,” I snapped defensively, turning back to the now-unlocked laptop. There were a lot of boring business files, but nested within them were the reports from his investments. I was in luck. Dennis was incompetent enough not to understand most of what he held on this laptop, but was self-important enough to keep very extensive and up-to-date records. I’d bet he’d had them sent over by that assistant I’d seen him on the street with.

“You’re trying to get information from him,” Bucky said, standing behind me in shadow so I could barely make out his outline. “But he doesn’t know anything, does he?”

“He might not, but the people running things for him do,” I grumbled, making copies of the files onto the very same thumb drive that introduced my personal malware to his security software. “Now, would you get out of here? I’ve got this covered.”

Bucky’s crossed arms were the only part of him I could really see, but I could imagine the irritated clenching of his jaw. “No, you don’t. He’s trying to put something in your drink.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Not that I wouldn’t put it past him; he had the same energy as every frat boy I’d ever met. It really was a shame he was so cute.

“Saw him through the window,” he shrugged as I pulled the thumb drive from the laptop and shoved it back under the strap of my dress.

I gaped at him for a moment. “That was you I saw across the balcony!”

He had the good sense not to answer.

“Gemma?” Dennis’s voice called from the living room.

I felt the blood drain from my face. “Shit.” I would have had just enough time if not for Bucky’s sudden arrival.

Bucky stiffened immediately, hands dropping to his sides. “Right. Mission over. You’re coming with me.”

“Wait- Bucky, don’t-” Before I could protest any more, Bucky had hooked his arms beneath my knees and back, carrying me as quick as he could without making noise to the window.

“Woah, woah, woah, Bucky, what are you doing?” I asked in hushed panic as he leaned toward the open window. I gripped the edges of his leather jacket frantically with my free hand, heels still dangling from the other.

“You’re gonna have to trust me here, Indy,” he whispered, tightening his grip on me.

“Oh God,” I whined, turning my face into his shoulder before he jumped.

I squeezed my eyes shut as the wind tore past me, goosebumps the size of mountains rising along my arms and legs. It’s a good thing Bucky was a super soldier, because any mortal man would have been compressed to death by my vise-like grip as we fell through the air. How I managed to keep from screaming was a mystery to me. Suddenly, we jerked to a stop, a shocked whimper leaving me. I peeked an eye open.

“Are we dead? I swear to God, if you killed me-” I threatened weakly.

“We’re fine,” Bucky said, setting me on my bare feet on the sidewalk. Then he started pulling a thick length of cord from wherever he had managed to hook it above us, spooling it back up around his wrist. Pedestrians stared at us as they moved past.

I slipped my heels back on, shoved my windblown hair back behind my shoulders, and looked up at Bucky now that I could see him. Anger lanced through me. I opened my mouth, maybe to yell at him, but then I found myself turning and walking away. He didn’t say anything, didn’t make any move to close the gap between us, but I felt him a few feet behind me, walking where I did like some big guard dog.

He’d ruined my halfway-decent attempt at subterfuge. Here I was, finally proving that I could do more than just hack and coordinate. And then Bucky comes in hot and blows everything. I wasn’t caught, but it wouldn’t even have come close if I hadn’t been stalled by Bucky’s arrival. And it wasn’t like I could just… explain away my disappearing act. That potential info source was no longer reliable.

The walk back to the compound took a lot longer than usual. Mostly because we usually used vehicles to approach the property. Luckily, my biometrics were synced with everything concerning the compound. Bucky wisely kept distance between us even once we had moved into the privacy of the compound’s property. He didn’t have much choice once we got onto the elevator, though.

We both stood silently in the too-bright overhead lighting, both of us wound tight with suppressed grievances. The ding-ing of the elevator past every floor made my eye twitch until, finally, I couldn’t keep quiet.

“What the hell were you thinking, pulling that tonight?” I asked in a low voice, unable to look at him as we stepped off the elevator.

“What was I thinking? Do you have any idea how worried I was once I realized who you were going out with tonight?” His voice rose into a yell as he ripped his gloves from his hands.

I wanted to be shocked at his volume, but it only incensed me further.

“I had it covered!” I shot back, tossing the thumb drive onto the counter. “It was just recon. Everything was going perfectly fine until you came in there like the Terminator and blew any form of a cover I may have had.”

His face reddened further, but this time, it took him a minute to spit out a retort. “What if things had gone sideways? No one knew where you were or who you were with. You could have been killed.”

I rolled my eyes and removed the gun I had discreetly strapped to my hip, tossing it onto the kitchen counter. “Oh please, Sarge, spare me the lecture. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to go anywhere unarmed? Besides, you knew who I was going to be with. I told you. Did you ever stop to think about why that is?”

He grew still, blue eyes flashing to me in an instant. He just watched me for a while, clearly waiting for me to continue on my own.

“I told you,” I scoffed, kicking the heels off my feet and dropping down to my normal (and sadly, much less intimidating) height, “because I knew if anything did go wrong, I could trust you to do exactly what you just did. The problem is, I thought I could also trust you not to just run in early without any instigation. I’m the one who gives the marching orders around here, Bucky. That airhead could have been a consistent source of information, but because you wanted to play hero, that’s off the table now.”

He seemed calmer. Maybe dangerously so. At least his breathing was beginning to slow down, and the red was draining from his face.

“Or am I wrong?”

“Yes, you are.”

“So, what is it, then? Do you just not trust my ability to work for this team?”

He only watched my face, sharp jaw clenched, looking like he wanted to deny it, but nothing came out.

Finally, I gave him a pained smile and nodded, turning my back on him and making my way slowly to my room, hoping he might call me back and tell me I was wrong… that despite all the evidence to the contrary, he did think I was useful… that I was valued. But as usual, nothing ever came.

BUCKY

She was beautiful. Why, God, did she have to be so beautiful? She was glaring at me angrily, which only seemed to make it worse. Her soft cheeks flushed with fury, her chest rising heavily with every turbulent breath. My heart felt like it was clenching repeatedly in my chest.

“What if things had gone sideways?” I finally managed to ask through heavy breaths of my own. “No one knew where you were or who you were with. You could have been killed.”

Her mouth twisted up, eyes rolling to the side as she groaned. She tore a gun I never would’ve realized was there from beneath the skirt of her dress and tossed it on the counter. “Oh please, Sarge, spare me the lecture. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to go anywhere unarmed? Besides, you knew who I was going to be with. I told you. Did you ever stop to think about why that is?”

I stilled completely, heart clenching once more. I couldn’t even force words past my mouth anymore. Please, I thought, just say it.

“I told you,” she started, tension rising in her voice as she removed her heels and dropped down so that I had to lower my eyes a bit to look at her. This angle was worse. Even lit with wild anger as they were, the light caught her eyes in a way that made my breath catch in my throat. Unaware of my internal battle, she continued, “-because I knew if anything did go wrong, I could trust you to do exactly what you just did. The problem is, I thought I could also trust you not to just run in early without any instigation. I’m the one who gives the marching orders around here, Bucky. That airhead could have been a consistent source of information, but because you wanted to play hero, that’s off the table now.”

I thought about ‘that airhead’ and what I had seen through the balcony door and felt my eyebrows draw a fraction of an inch closer together.

“Or am I wrong?” She pursed her lips, crossing her arms over her red dress.

“Yes, you are.” If she noticed how rough my voice was, she didn’t acknowledge it.

“So, what is it, then? Do you just not trust my ability to work for this team?”

I wanted to deny it so badly. I trusted her implicitly. She had proven herself to be a valuable asset to the team time and time again.

She was smarter than people with twice her experience, and more accepting than anyone I knew, except maybe Steve. And there was that friendliness that just oozed from her, contaminating everyone around.

She was the person I depended on the most nowadays. So how did I tell her that I was just worried about her? That I knew she was capable, but the thought of anything happening to her made me feel like I was falling off that damn train in Germany all over again? How did I tell her the reason I needed her to be safe?

The answer was pretty simple in the end; I didn’t.

Giving me a tight smile that showed no teeth and made her eyes even colder, she turned and headed toward her room. My eyes stayed on her back as she went, wishing I could make my stupid mouth work.

Her door was shut firmly behind her before I was able to mutter, “I’m sorry.” Then I ran a frustrated hand through my hair and headed off to my own bed.