A Trip Back In Time | Captain America AU - CLOSED

It was a dreary morning, to say the least, as the agent sat in the dark corner of a drafty, abandoned New York warehouse. She was scribbling away on the page of a pocket-sized journal, taking notes of the date, location, and status of her position. A little fire flickered on the floor in front of her, but it didn't do much good given the chilly weather and absence of heating in the eroding structure. The past week, she'd been working an intelligence mission for a group of rogue, Stark wannabe scientists when she'd suddenly found herself caught in some kind of time vortex. None of the details were clear except for the fact that she had been offset to probably the worst year imaginable. Why? Because there were two very special people occupying this place and time that she feared to come in contact with, for the sake of preserving the future they'd created.

In the past eight days, she'd found herself some new clothes, rationed a bit of money for food, and kept a low profile. However, she was running out of hiding time. She needed to find a way back to her own time, and she couldn't do that by waiting around. Slipping her journal into a little hiding space in the wall, she pulled herself to her feet and crept to the opening of the warehouse. It was along the uninhabited side of the docks, but she still checked for anyone sneaking around before she went on her way. Times were heard and people could got desperate.

Her raggedy pants were a dull brown in color and worn with a a simple, somewhat dirtied white shirt and a brown leather jacket. Her hair was fixed into two loose, rather unkempt braids, giving her the childish edge she needed to appear as just another Brooklyn street orphan. She figured no one would bother her if she took on the guise of a common street rat. Even so, she stayed in the alleyways, keeping an eye out for any sciencey types passing by on the main roads. After all, who else would know how to turn around time in this day and age?

Unfortunately, her observation of the main street had led her into a dead ended alley, and of course, just as she went to make her way out, someone else made his way in. The grin on his face led her to believe he'd been tailing her for a few blocks at least. He looked like trouble, which she'd been trying to avoid and was clearly trying to make a move on her.

"Well, well, well. Look'it what we have here." He smirked, stepping a little too close for her comfort.

Kacey grumbled under her breath, shooting him an annoyed glare. "Sorry hot shot, but I don't do stalkers."

The boy narrowed his eyes, snatching her wrist and pinning her to the wall behind out of his rising frustration. "Aww, c'mon babe. Let loose a little, won't ya? What's a pretty pigeon like you doin' out here all on her lonesome anyways?"

"And why should tell a thing like that to a regular drugstore cowboy like you, hm? Are ya really that desperate to find yourself a dame? Try the jazzy hangout up the street. You're sure to get lucky from up there."

The boy's grin only grew as he leaned further toward the girl, now holding both her arms at bay for his own advantage. "Easy answer pige- I've got all the luck I need right here."

Kacey growled, attempting to pull out of his grip. "You're a sick bastard, ya know that?!"

He only laughed at the remark, daring to come closer with every second. She, however, refused to call out. The last thing she needed was to make a scene and attract the cops attention. She would get out of this on her own if she had to. But she had to wonder, how?

"Ma'am, is there a problem?"

That one, simple little question sent both waves of relief and rippling chills down the girl's spine. On the positive side, this man was sure to give her the chance she needed to get away, but on the very, very negative side, she knew who this man was. It was Steve- and that meant, if she wasn't careful, a lot things were bound to go haywire in the scheme of time. She would have to be careful to avoid any possible chance of recognition. Hell, if push came to shove, she'd probably have to pass as Bucky's distant cousin! But she didn't want that to happen. She couldn't allow that to happen.

Then, before she knew it, poor Steve took a thundering blow to the jaw. The young agent had heard enough times from her superiors, her father, and Steve himself how sad his condition had been before the serum. His heart was no different, that was obvious, yet his frail physicality made him horribly disadvantaged. The guy that had been targeting her originally was now throwing the man she considered a second father around like a ragdoll. And if that didn't make the teen's blood boil, you could be damn sure nothing would.

As soon as the cocky bully started to pull Steve from his feet, something snapped. Clenching her fists, the raggedly dressed agent stepped forward with an angry, defensive glare in her sharp glacial colored eyes. "Hey! Pick on someone yer own size, ya pretentious bastard!"

Without a second thought in the world, the girl slammed a tight fist across his face from the side, knocking straight across her target and drawing a fair stream of blood in the process. Naturally, he responded by dropping his grip on Steve and clasping his hands over his likely broken nose through a string of curses. Then, to finish her work, the girl planted a nice, firm kick to the boy's rear end, sending him stumbling out of the alley in a frustrated daze.

Once she was sure he'd left, she wasted no time hurrying to Steve's side to help him to his feet, those icy blue eyes now colored over with concern rather than defensive anger. She gripped his arm strongly, but gently in both hands as he restored his coordination, her breath a light pant as she recalled her calmer emotions and fought to keep a level sense as she faced the past face of the man she knew so well in the future.

"I'm really, really sorry about that-! You didn't have to get involved... I-I'm sure I could have worked that out in time, but.. ah..." The young woman sighed, running her hands back through her hair and tightening her grip in the midst of that tangled blonde mess, letting her back crash tiredly against the brick wall behind her. She stayed like that for a few seconds, eyes squeezed shut in contemplation and control. She didn't want to give Steve a shock, but she didn't want to get away from him either. Despite the time gap, she had a feeling she needed him more than she'd care to admit. That's when her grip relaxed a bit, her arms parted to reveal her face, and she opened her eyes again, accompanied by a sincere smile.

"Thank you.. for saving me."

A quiet, unexplained giggle then briefly rolled off her lips, however, too soon did her gleefully grateful demeanor return to one of anxiety. There was not only a small dripping of blood from Steve's busted lip, but also a slew of fresh cuts on his hands and face- she assumed from his being tossed upon the street like a useless toy. "Aw damn, you're hurt!" She gasped to herself and instantly began tearing at the thin fabric of her shirt. The cold New York winter and her current living conditions didn't register when she felt responsible for the wounds of another. She simply acted without hesitation or argument, even if she was, technically speaking, a homeless, orphaned, dirty, but still strikingly attractive, street rat. The strips of clothing from the bottom of her top might have exposed the lower reaches of her abdomen, but at least they'd made decent bandages for the blood that she'd indirectly spilled.