In Your Eyes // Steve Rogers

20

"Ultron's got an enemy, but that's not the same thing. I'd pay folding money to find out who it is."

"We might need to visit Oslo," decided Tony, "Find our unknown."

"Well, this is good times, boss, but I was hoping when I saw you, you'd have more than that," admitted Natasha.

"I do. I have you," insisted Fury, "Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else. Here we all are, back on Earth, with nothing but our wit and our will to save the world. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard."

Natasha smirked, rolling her eyes to the man standing behind me. "Steve doesn't like that kind of talk," she joked.

Humor in his tone, Steve sighed, "You know what, Romanoff..."

"So, what does he want?" asked Fury rhetorically.

"To become better," I said instantly, "Isn't that why he keeps building more bodies?"

"To be better than us," he corrected.

"When you two programmed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed," Natasha sarcastically praised the science duo.

"They don't need to be protected," disagreed Bruce.

He stared at the picture Clint's youngest had drawn for Natasha: a butterfly.

"They need to evolve. Ultron's going to evolve," he said.

"How?"

Bruce stared at the picture, fingers anxiously tapping against Natasha's chair as he thought of an answer. When it came to him, his fingers stilled.

"Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?"

"He's targeting her?" I asked.

"More likely her machine," said Bruce.

"We need to find her before Ultron does," said Steve.

"It's likely he already found her," said Tony. "I'll head to Oslo, see what I can find in the computers."

"Clara, do you mind taking me to the Tower?" asked Bruce.

"You sure?" I asked.

"I'll be more helpful there than with you guys," he agreed.

I opened a portal in front of him. He waved to the team and stepped through. I closed it.

"Meet in the quinjet in five?" said Steve.

"Sounds good," said Barton, nodding thankfully.

Steve and I took an extra minute to thank Laura for the hospitality, then we started to make our way to the forest, where Barton hid the quinjet.

"It's nice," sighed Steve.

Our steps slowed purposely, reminiscing over the land.

"Think you'll ever have it?" I asked.

"No," he said without hesitation. He chuckled. "The man who wanted all that went in the ice seventy years ago."

I took his hand in my own and brought it to my lips. He did the same to me.

"Don't worry about me," he insisted. "I'll be okay."

Our hands split when we entered the quinjet. We took seats along the wall.

Barton's return brought the jet into the air. With Tony in the lead, we were off to Oslo.

Steve suddenly made a noise of remembrance when Barton said we were ten minutes out. He reached into the bag beside him, prying out a stack of clothes. His suit, Natasha's, Barton's, and my own.