#i will pull my punches for having a good stance on state surveillance given the US/UK surveillance reveals during the year

[attila-werther]

prying myself away from the call of treasure island to once again. think thoughts about james bond

[cheesewritings]

Chapter 3: We Gotta Get The Gang Back Together

Summary: Reconnecting with family, shared memories, and secrets that cannot be revealed quite yet.

Warnings: shitty military knowledge, Dustin reliving his trauma, language

Eowyn was up at 0400 to go for a run. When something is a part of your daily life for so long, you tend to have to do it every day in order to function. She runs 3 miles and heads back to the cabin and into the old woodshed looking for the familiar punching bag. She checks her watch for time since they're set to leave soon before she begins the familiar sets. An hour later, panting and out of breath she hears the door open and despite knowing it's someone familiar takes a fighting stance. "Nice form kid." her uncle states. "Thanks Unc. Gotta keep training even when I'm not at Delta base." she responds. Jim sees the familiar look in her eyes and begins to grow worried that his niece has seen things far beyond what her age can comprehend. "If you ever need to talk you know you can come to me" he tells her. "I know. This is my first big mission. Most of my orders have been small things like recon and surveillance, but given how close I am to the situation and how close you all are, Dad wants me to take a leadership role." she says. Jim understands, knowing his brother wouldn't dare risk his daughters life for something trivial, remembering the day she was born. Jim remembers the promise Eli made to Eowyn as he held her in the hospital room, not knowing he was there, "Even if you grow to be a badass, you won't have to go through hell without me." "Well kiddo we're loading things up to head out just give me the coordinates and we can swap who drives lead." Jim says. "Thanks. But first I gotta shower. I feel like a swamp demon" she declares.

After a much-needed shower, Eowyn throws her go bag in the back of her jeep. Her uncle has loaded up his bronco with his, El, and the Byer's equipment. Argyle has loaded up his weird hippie van with everyone else’s. "Alright guys… It's roughly a 8-10 hour drive depending on traffic and other things so be prepared. We radio if we must stop for bathrooms, fuel, or snackage. Channel 13." She gives everyone the necessary information when a familiar truck pulls into the driveway. "I hope I’m not late?" comes the voice of Wayne Munson. "You're right on time Corporal. We're just syncing up the radios and heading out." Eowyn answers. "Mr. Munson? You're coming with us?" Dustin Henderson asks. "Well kid, I felt like lacing up the boots one last time…to honor Eddie." he responds, looking at Eowyn with a knowing glance. "Henderson, do you want to ride with me for the first leg of the trip?" Eowyn asks. "Sure…. the last time I saw you I was like 8 so it'll be good to catch up." he responds. The group collectively loads into their vehicles and begin the long trek to the base.

The group is now 6 hours into their journey and Eowyn glances over to Dustin, "hey kid…..tell me about Eddie. I know you're wanting to talk about him." "Eddie was the guy I never really knew I needed. I had Steve, and my other friends but Eddie was just….Eddie. He wasn't afraid to be himself. He always took in those of us who looked lost to make sure we had a friend. He called us his little sheepies. When he…..when he died he told me that it was my responsibility now. To take care of the sheepies. But I don't know if I can live up to Eddie. I never even saw him get mad. Even when the worst was happening." Dustin looks sad as he tells Eowyn the story she already knows the other side of. "Dustin….you are a leader in your own right. You helped rally the troops when everything seemed to go to shit, from what I've heard. You've got plans, ideas, and the confidence needed to get those plans off the ground. Eddie would be so proud of you." she responds. "You have grown up so much since I last saw you. You're not the little 8 year old kid who wanted to watch cartoons and snuggle on the couch anymore. You're no longer my squishy." "Squishy?" Dustin looks at her remembering the nickname but just now realizing where it came from. "When you were little I called you squishy because you didn't have collarbones. When you were born, you were extra squishy because of your cheeks and that's what I called you."

“Echo this is Bravo..requesting a stop for relief. Over.” Eowyn and Dustin hear over the radio. “Bravo this is Echo. Stop granted. Rest area approximately 2 miles ahead. Over.” She responds. The team pulls off the highway into a secluded rest stop, and while everyone conducts their business, Eowyn shifts the radio in her jeep to channel 6. “Delta this is Echo. We are approximately 3 hours out from base. Over.” She says. She waits patiently for a response. “Echo this is the Puppet Master at Delta Base, is the adventuring party in tow?” a familiar voice responds. “Puppet Master, the adventuring party has no idea of your status so continue to lay low or you can sleep on level 3 without me, but yes…they are with me.” She snips back. “Not level 3 alone! See you in 3 hours, Echo. Delta Base, out” he replies dramatically. Eowyn switches the radio back to channel 13 before anyone else returns. Upon everyone’s return, Steve asks if he can ride with Eowyn so they can talk. Dustin migrates to Steve's car with Nancy at the wheel and hops into Eowyn's jeep.

"Why?" comes a voice just a few miles down the highway. "Why'd you leave?" Eowyn contemplates her answer for a minute before she sighs. "Apparently Dad's been part of this organization since 'Nam. Uncle Jim didn't know about it but Dad was recruited for his leadership skills and tactical expertise. You know I grew up doing martial arts and shit? Well turns out dad took notice and wanted me to help train recruits when I got old enough. We left so I could go to military school." Steve nodded slowly. "This isn't a I was born to fight in a war situation Steve. This is a I'm a very skilled individual and the government would rather have me as an asset than an enemy. That's what the coalition is." she finishes. "So you sort of didn't have a choice in the matter?" he asks. "I mean it was more of a which military school do you want to go to because we're leaving Indiana either way thing." Steve just nods. "Well for the record I missed my friend slash annoying sister I never asked for." Eowyn just chuckles. "Oh before I forget, I did stock up on some necessities before we left the Hoosier state." Eowyn holds up a can of Ski and offers it to Steve. "I haven't had this since we were kids." he says. "Me either. So of course I got like 12 cases" They both laugh as the trip continues on. Crossing state line after state line until they finally cross over into rural Virginia. Just beyond the horizon sits the compound that the entire group will soon know as their home.

[beckzorz]

No Fair (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Words: 1672 Summary: A quiet night at the compound leads to a game to pass the time. You play to win. A/N: This is for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​’s drunk drabbles, it just got a little out of hand haha! Can of tuna is a reference to the best prank fic of all time by @kentuckybarnes, Troublemakers in her Agent 28 series. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

A lazy evening at the compound. Half the team is away, split between charity work, political stuff, family obligations, and actual missions—but given that it’s the coldest week of the year with the remains of a nasty blizzard to boot, it’s pretty quiet even with Sam and Bucky both in the building.

You’d never expected such trouble from Captain America, nor the Winter Soldier. But in the never-ending prank wars that naturally occur when a bunch of high-energy superheroes spend copious amounts of time together, it’s always the Sam-and-Bucky team who do the most devastating work. You’ve yet to see them prank each other. Give each other shit? Absolutely. But words and the occasional punch or kick or chokehold is as far as their back-and-forth griping ever goes.

Admirable, really. If you were in Sam’s shoes, you’d do just about anything to get Bucky as flustered as he gets whenever someone pulls a good one over on him. Gosh, he’s so cute when his cheeks go all pink…

You shift in your seat at the end of the couch, ducking your head to hide your own suddenly warm cheeks as Bucky passes by, a fresh bottle of beer in hand. He glances down at you.

And pauses.

“What?” he asks.

“Um.” You swallow and shoot a shy smile up at him. “Just thinking it’s, ah, pretty quiet around here.”

“It’s almost insane how well-behaved you’re all being,” Rhodey remarks. “This is usually about the time someone discovers some fish in their underwear or something.”

“Hey!” Sam snaps. He jabs a finger Rhodey’s way, eyes narrowed. “That was one time.”

You snicker. “That’s what you think.”

“Oh really?” Sam says.

“Well…”

“Oh god, not the fuckin’ fish thing again,” Bucky groans. He flops down beside you on the couch, close enough that you can feel his body heat. “That shit stinks. Literally and figuratively. Listen—” he turns to you, curling his hand on the back of the couch just by your shoulder, his eyes wide and his face deliciously earnest— “I will actually give you money to never use fish in a prank again.”

You can’t help but grin. If Bucky’s noticed how warm your cheeks are, he doesn’t show it. “And I just bought that can of tuna, too.” You sigh dramatically. “Oh well. I guess when you ask so nice, I have to accept.” You thrust out your hand. “Pay up, Barnes.”

Bucky’s smiling now too. He shifts, digs his wallet out of his back pocket—god, how nice would it be to do that yourself?—and pulls out two twenties.

“Does this satisfy?” he asks, voice low.

“It’ll do,” you say. You swallow again—your fingers brush his as you accept his gift, and you stuff it in your own back pocket hastily. Bucky heads back to his seat, cracks open his beer with his left thumb, and takes a swig, his bright eyes fixed on your face.

You look away, shaken. Shaken, tingling, wanting.

“It’s almost too quiet,” Sam muses.

“Yeah, we should do something,” Rhodey says. “There’s four of us…”

“I think Wanda’s around here somewhere,” Bucky pipes up. The burn of his gaze drops from your face, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Oh, fantastic.” Sam grins. “How about we play hide and seek?”

“Excuse me?” you blurt. “That’s going to be insanely boring. This place is big enough for even me to hide effectively for, well, maybe five whole minutes.”

Bucky laughs, loud and clear and bright, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to look at him.

“Fine,” he says, and you can hear his grin. “How about a tracking game? We start in different parts of the compound and track around until we spot other people before they spot us.”

“And people who don’t mind just chilling out in a hiding spot and reading a book can just read, if they want,” Rhodey throws in.

“Sure, whatever, but how do you win?” you ask.

“Winning is overrated,” Sam says sagely.

“You only say that ‘cause I always beat you at cards,” Bucky says, and you finally look at him, grinning. He blinks, cheeks pink, and continues. “I guess, uh, whoever finds the most people wins? And yes, there might be a tie. Think you can handle it?”

“Ha! Yes, I think so.”

“Great,” Sam says. “So, where do we start?”

—

You position yourself in the best starting point. Rhodey’s starting in the rec room, Sam in the garage, Wanda will be in the residential wing, and Bucky’s in the basement commercial-sized kitchen. A ping from FRIDAY signals the start of the game, and you dash off to the right.

You’re less than sixty feet from the room with the security feeds. Amazing, really, that no one seemed to sense what you were up to when you volunteered to start on the roof.

Plus, you had plenty of time to stop by your room.

At the door to surveillance room, you look up and down the corridor. Empty. Perfect. Out come your lockpicks, and more importantly the device—a legacy of Tony Stark’s, may his memory be a blessing—that can crack through the electronic parts of the locked door in seconds. You slip inside and let out a slow breath.

The agent at the desk, Michelle, has her hand over the alarm button. She shakes her head at you.

“You could’ve knocked, y’know,” she says.

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” you point out. You slide into the second chair and watch the screens for your teammates. Yes, there’s Wanda passing through the rec room you’d been hanging out in before, Bucky heading down the hallway from the kitchen to the garage. No evidence of Sam or Rhodey, not yet.

“What’s going on?” Michelle asks. “Are you guys playing hide or seek or something?”

“Or something,” you say. You send a sly smirk her way. “Wanna help me win?”

Michelle rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. “Pay up.”

A beleaguered sigh, and you fork over the forty dollars from Bucky. Michelle knows. She always knows.

But it’s worth it. Fish does smell bad, and Michelle hands you an earpiece so she can direct you around.

“It’s like playing a video game,” she declares, grinning up at you. “But my PC can talk back.”

You do an awkward run to the door, mimicking the video games you’ve seen Michelle play.

“At your command,” you intone, and then you’re out the door.

—

Michelle sends you after Bucky first. Because of course she does.

“You know you appreciate it,” she teases. “I’m amazed you haven’t made a move yet. Ah, go around the other way. Colonel Rhodes is hiding in that room.”

You nod and slip around another way as you head towards the garage. Bucky’s still there, going through the cars one-by-one.

Once you’re out of Rhodey’s earshot, you say, “I don’t know how he can be so methodical for a game like this.”

“You don’t get a reputation like his by not putting in the effort,” Michelle points out. “Besides, you literally broke into the surveillance room. No one else has done that so far.”

“If anyone does, please push the emergency button. I’m begging you.”

Michelle groans. “You’re relentless.

You’re grinning as you pad silently down the garage stairs—still in your slippers, with the soft soles that are silent on the concrete. And the garage is silent, too. Not that you’d expect to be able to hear Bucky moving around.

“Four rows to the left,” Michelle murmurs in your ear. “And keep low til then. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

You move quick, stance low, past three rows. Let out your breath silently, wait for a signal.

“Now!” Michelle whispers.

You pop up from behind a red convertible, spot Bucky with his face against the dark glass of the next car over, and whoop with glee.

Bucky spins so fast he nearly trips over his feet. He catches himself on the convertible, tightens his hold—and then he sees it’s you, and his whole body goes lax.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he says. He runs his free hand through his hair, shaking his head with a rueful grin. “You scared the crap outta me.”

“Well, this is a win for me, then!” You lean against the windshield, grinning and unable to stop.

His smile softens as he looks at you. “How the heck did you sneak up on me, anyway?”

“Huh? Oh!” You turn your head so he can see the earpiece tucked in your ear. “I’ve got Michelle on the line.”

“Michelle from security?”

“That’s the one!”

“So you cheated,” Bucky states. He slowly moves around the car, his hand lingering on the doors, the edge of the trunk. You step back as he closes in, heart hammering in your chest.

“No, I improvised. There’s a difference.”

He snorts. “Well, it’s still not what I’d call playing fair.”

“I don’t play fair, Bucky,” you say. You lift your chin, meet his gaze. “I play to win.”

“Well,” he says. He takes one step closer, and you’re caught with a column at your back and Bucky less than a foot away. His lips curve up as he curls his hand around the nape of your neck. “You’ve won me over.”

“A-ah?” You’d answer, but you’re struck dumb. He’s closer than he’s ever been, and you’re drowning in those sky-blue eyes, falling, falling…

“Hate to break up a tender moment here,” Michelle announces.

Bucky’s eyes widen. From so close, he can hear her no problem. He drags his hand away from your neck, but doesn’t step away. You bite your lip, still frozen in place.

“Sam got bored of hiding,” Michelle goes on. “He’s heading your way.”

Bucky twines his fingers in yours.

“So,” he says. He presses his forehead to yours, breathes you in. “Shall we go win your game and celebrate later?”

You squeeze his hand, the promise of later thick and charged and already tasting delicious.

“Yes.”