"Hello gorgeous" A figure stood cloaked in darkness, using the shadows like a cloak to hide herself. "Mister America, Captain, Mr. Star spangled man with a plan." A gun cocked quickly with remarkable force and a distinguishable grunt. "How ya doin'?"
Steve looked at his surroundings, he was cornered. Without his shield all he had was his fists, against a gun, he didn't like his chances. Watching the figure slink around him he determined their movements, distinguishably female, uncommon but not unlikely. A sudden rise in women soldiers had taken him quite by surprise, and he whispered a quick "Take me back to the forties" to himself.
"Come out, what are you, scared?" he asked to the silhouette, waiting patiently with balled fists at his side.
"Of you? Hardly." she retorted, a common response that Steve had heard oh so many times before, almost always a lie - almost. Stepping out of her cover she stared at him; strong expression, confident stance, cocky smirk, but the most interesting thing, black tear marks running down her cheeks, along with droplets of water that fell from her eyes.
Steve looked at her, confused. It was like she didn't even know she was crying, it was subconscious, like an old reflex that she had forgotten about, a memory she had forgotten but her mind refused to let go of. Strangely enough her face showed no evidence that she had any negative emotions, just a smirk and a snatch.
Looking into her eyes he let out a pitiful sigh, not another one. "Please, not you as well, Y/n?"
"Sorry?" She said, raising her pistol, "Do I know you?"