6 /| conversation

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He held out his hand for her, but she simply looked at him from where she sat. "I'm sorry."

Steve let his hand fall in confusion. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"Trust me I have, you know I have. Just not to you. Never to you," she sighed standing up, leaning on him slightly. "I'm sorry because good can't always win, even when you try your hardest."

He smiled at her. "Where I'm from good always wins. If not now then in the end."

Geneva returned the smile wholeheartedly. "Let's go before I start crying and this gets too cheesy."

Steve chuckled before taking her outstretched hand.


°°°




"Tell me about Zola's algorithm," Steve demanded, forcing a flustered Jasper Sitwell across the rooftop. Geneva and Natasha followed closely behind.

The man stumbled backwards. "Never heard of it." His voice was breathless when he answered, a sense of fear deeply rooted in his voice.

"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" Steve questioned, almost to the edge of the roof.

"I was throwing up, I get seasick," Sitwell let out seconds before he nearly fell off the roof. Steve grabbed the man by his shirt, practically holding him up. Geneva stood next to Natasha where both women watched the interaction. Gen frowned when she noticed Sitwell's smile. "Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style, Rogers." The man's voice was somewhat condescending and that made a wave of aggravation bombard Gen.

Steve paused, letting go of the man and straightening out his shirt. "You're right. It's not," Cap began stepping aside, "it's her's."

Natasha didn't think twice before easily kicking the man off of the rooftop. His screams did not phase them, not even in the slightest. Geneva sighed, slightly disappointed that she didn't get the chance to do something.

"Oh, wait," Nat said suddenly, looking to Steve. "What about that girl from accounting, Laura—"

"Lillian. Lip piercing, right?"

Geneva recalled whom they were talking about. She could only assume what they were talking about, and it sounded like Nat was trying to get Steve a date.

Natasha nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, she's cute." And she was, but Geneva just could not picture her and Steve together.

Cap sighed. "Yeah, I'm not ready for that."

"That's okay," Gen said patting his shoulder, "If we survive this, I know the perfect person for you to go on a date with."

Steve looked at her questioningly, but anything she was going to say was quickly put on hold as Sam dropped as still screaming Sitwell onto the roof. Geneva watched Sam, impressed. The three of them walked toward the breathless man, business faces instantly put in place.

Sitwell raised his hand in surrender. "Zola's algorithm is a program for choosing Insight's targets."

Geneva's eyebrows raised at the mention of Project Insight. Like she'd said many times before, she did not support the project and situations like these were reasons why.

"What targets?" Steve questioned, pulling Gen out of her thoughts.

Sitwell waved his hand in Steve's direction. "You. A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa city. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA. Now, or in the future."

Steve took a step closer. "The Future? How could it know?"

Sitwell began to laugh, yet, it held no humor. "Stop," Geneva commanded and he did so immediately.

Slowly the man stood up. "How could it not? The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it." He paused noticing the blank stares he received. "Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e-mails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."

"And what then?" Steve's voice was quiet.

Sitwell looked away fearfully. "Oh, my God. Pierce is gonna kill me."

"What then?" Steve demanded his patience obviously thinning.

There was a pause. "Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time."

Geneva shook her head. "Unbelievable."

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