A Reckless Soul | Captain America ✓

REPERCUSSIONS

THE wind howled angrily. It's cold but warm body raced passed Audrey on the porch, disrupting the calm of branches in a cluster of trees near by. Various shades of green leaves shook like the end of a rattlesnake's tail. It baffled the Englishwoman how the weather could be serene one minute and the next chaotic. The scene reminded her of Canada's icy cold winters. They'd start with blue skies, then end with a blizzard that swept the landscape like a lacy white curtain.

"You're not here to kill me, are you?" Bucky asked, ripping Audrey out of her thoughts and dropping an arm-full of firewood at the base of the stairs. She overlooked his not-so-dashing-attire, as her eyes carefully raked over the burgundy long-sleeve rolled up to his elbows and simple, but rough looking navy denim jeans. The material was starting to fray in both knees.

Perspiration dotted across his forehead. Dark patches of sweat ran under each armpit while another dark marking ran down the length of his chest, narrowing when it reached his stomach.

Her eyes flitted to the wood, then back to him. "You'll find summer is quite warm, no need for a fire," she commented mockingly.

"I'm getting an early start on my firewood," Winter replied dryly, whilst extending a hand out to show the shed outback nearly bursting with chopped wood. "My question still stands."

Audrey's trained eyes were focused on him like a cat on its mouse. She watched him straighten, those dark eyes of hers looking at him long and hard from the porch, articulating her reply when she simply stated, "Sadly...no."

Tension she hadn't sensed, left his shoulders as they little by little sagged in relief. Yet another relentless blast of wind barreled towards her, uplifting the end of her hair in a lose french braid, and disturbing the hairdo all together. Her chocolate locks rustled against her cheeks, tickling the skin as some strains came lose and blew to one side of her face and in her eyes.

A burst of a thought plagued Bucky's mind, for he abruptly blinked up at her. A dab of confusion slipped upon his visage. "Then, what are you doing here?"

"So many questions," she started to say as she descended each step languidly, "and yet, so little time." Sand crunched under the soles of her boots as she halted in front of the ex-mercenary.

"You said you 'brought a friend of mine.' I don't have friends, so who is this?" Completely disregarding her useless replies merely created as a sort of diversion, scheme, or to simply steal his time, he cut straight to the point. A dark hooded appeal shadowed over his face, hardening his features so she wouldn't procure his prick of worry.

Audrey scarcely cared, penetrating past that stony face of his, and lazily pointing silently behind him to turn around. "Look for yourself."

Perplexed eyebrows screwed together at her vague answer, and gradually did he shift around. She heard a sudden in take of air pass through his slightly parted lips, when his stormy blue eyes landed on a certain tall blonde. "Steve?"

____

Coffee's rich sent traveled about the small living room that was connected to the kitchen inside Audrey's new living quarters. The assassin herself curling her body and shoulders towards the warmth of her mug. Her cup of joe, that she relished in at the moment, held snugly against her chest.

The twisting and spiraling pattern of the steam floated up and out of her mug, fanning under her chin as she observed the comings and goings of citizens outside the apartment window at the Triskelion.

"Sit down, you're making the room uncomfortable."

Audrey wearily flashed her eyelashes, glancing over her shoulder at her brother sprawled out on the couch. He smiled a big, burly, goofy smile in return of her glare.