Music is "Paralyzed" by NF.

Picture is Grant Barnes.

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CHAPTER EIGHT: Friends and Enemies

{April 2, 2014 -- Present Day}

Steve leaves the Smithsonian earlier than Grant is finished with his assignment to visit a new friend at the Veteran's Affairs Office a few blocks away. I told him I would stay with Grant until his research is completed.

"Are you sure?" he asked before he left, all of a sudden concerned about his behavior. "I don't mean to be short or rude. I just..." He shrugged, looking at the Captain America and Lady Liberty exhibit behind me. "I just can't be here today. It doesn't usually affect me like this."

"We've had a rough twenty-four hours." I gave him a smile and reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Go. See your new friend. We'll finish up here and then head back, maybe grab some take-out for dinner."

Steve nodded, then headed towards the V.A. I try not to let my concern show as I head towards Grant. He said that he was going to be near the Discovery space shuttle in the outside hanger. I follow the signs towards the shuttle and find Grant standing outside, taking notes.

"How's it coming?" I ask, walking up beside the seventeen-year-old boy.

"Good so far!" He gives me a swift smile before turning back to his notes. "I told you I would find you and Uncle Steve when I finished. Where is he anyways?"

"We went to see our exhibit," I tell him, eyes moving up and down the large shuttle in front of us. "Normally it makes him feel like he's still connected to the past. Normally that's a good thing."

"Not today, I assume."

I shake my head. "Not today. Our mission, or rather what Fury told us after it, rubbed him the wrong way I think. He just needs some time to himself. He's going to visit a friend at the V.A. I told him we'd get some take-out."

"Take-out again?" he asks. "We haven't been out as a family in a couple weeks."

I sigh, "I know, but I just don't think that tonight will be a good night for that. Steve's head is...elsewhere."

Grant stops taking notes and turns towards me, worry on his Asian features. "Is he gonna be okay?"

I wrap my arm around his shoulders, a motherly gesture I do when he needs a little boost. I flash a convincing smile. "He will be. Just give him some time."

Grant mirrors my smile, and I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. When I pull it out, I see a text from Natasha. It reads:

"Get cap'n iceberg and kid genius. r/v @ silvestri. 10 mins :)"

"Who's it from?" Grant asks.

"Aunt Tasha," I reply, moving my fingers to give her a thumbs-up emoji. "She wants you, me, and Steve to rendezvous at the Silvestri Pizzeria in ten minutes."

Grant laughs, turning with me to head to the exit. "That hole in the wall? That place is a dump!"

"It does have good pizza, though."

"No, I mean it's literally a hole in the wall. You have to walk through a hole to get into the place!"

I laugh at Grant's antics as we head to the car. I quickly text Steve, telling him what Natasha told me, but he doesn't reply. I even try calling, but his phone seems to be turned off because it goes straight to voicemail.

"Fine. We'll just have to go pick him up ourselves."

The drive doesn't take long to get from the Smithsonian to the Veteran's Affairs office a few blocks away. I see Steve's bike parked outside, parallel to the street. I park behind it, telling Grant to stay put while I find his uncle.

Inside the building, I find it looks more like a school than a department of the federal government. People walk quietly in the hallways. The person at the front desk gives me a pleasant smile, one I return. I follow the voices to the hallway outside a classroom, seeing Steve talking to who I assume is his new friend. This man seems our age with dark skin and hair. His smile is wide and endearing as he speaks to my best friend. They laugh about something as I wander closer.

"Just a great idea off the top of my head," his friend chuckles. "Seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?"

Steve stares at the wall behind his friend like it holds all the answers, shaking his head slightly. He turns back to face him with a little, embarrassed smile. "I don't know."

When I get closer, Steve's eyes flicker over to me. He gives me a small smile as his friend notices my presence as well. "Hi, there," his companion says with a pleasant smile.

"Sam, this is Emma Barnes," Steve introduces us. "Emma, this is Sam Wilson. We met on a run earlier today."

I extend my hand towards Sam. "Pleasure to meet you, Sam."

Sam shakes my hand with a laugh. "Believe me, the pleasure's all mine, Ms. Barnes."

"Call me Emma, please." I turn to Steve. "Tasha wants to meet with you, me, and Grant for pizza in ten. Want to come?"

Steve places his hands on his hips. "'Course." He turns to Sam. "You're welcome to join us, too, if you want."

Sam nods, grateful. "Thanks for the invite, but maybe some other time. I got a whole lotta stuff to finish up here. Rain check?"

"Of course," I smile. "It was nice to meet you, Sam."

Sam walks off, replying "You, too!"

After Sam leaves, Steve and I head back to the street. I hop in the car with Grant, and Steve mounts his Harley.  We drive the short distance, fighting late afternoon traffic, to Silvestri Pizzeria. Although Grant is right, this place is pretty much a dump, their pizza is extremely good. We've come here several times with Natasha, one-on-one and as a family.

We park along the street in front of the Silvestri building. It's a small brick single-story at the edge of town, barely still structurally sound. The moment we open the car doors, I can smell the pizza already being prepared. I take a deep breath in, and a smile covers my face.

"Great," Grant mumbles. "Now I'm starved."

Steve parks his motorbike and runs over to catch up with us. We enter the restaurant, and I spot Natasha sitting at the booth across the room. Her back is to the wall, eyes sweeping over the menu in front of her. From the booth, she can see into the small, crowded kitchen, towards both front entrance and back exit, and all of the pizzeria patrons.

My boys and I walk over to the booth. Grant slips in beside her, Steve beside him. I sit on her other side. "Glad you guys could make it," she says, placing her menu on the rugged table. "I took the liberty to order drinks already."

"Thanks, Aunt Nat," Grant says with a grin.

Natasha gives him a side-smile and ruffles his black hair that's tucked under his bandanna. "Your hair is getting so long. Do you know how to get a haircut?"

Grant scowls at her. "I like it longer."

Natasha chuckles, then looks past him to Steve. "How are you? You seemed a little upset after the mission." Her voice isn't judgmental, it's soft and concerning. This is a side of her I rarely see.

Steve gives her a soft smile. "I'm good. Just something Fury said that got to me."

"You good?" Her green eyes stare into his blue, locking with his gaze.

"Yeah, I'm good."

She nods, assured, and turns back to me as the waiter brings our drinks. "Oh, by the way, Tony called the Triskellion and told me that your new hover boots were delivered this afternoon. All the new features, everything you two talked about, he's got it all."

My thoughts shift to the prototype Iron-Man boots that Tony gave me two years ago, the ones that helped me save Manhattan from the Chitauri invasion. Very few missions in SHIELD require such tech, I'm usually good on foot, but Tony insisted that he create a new pair for me. Just in case. I had forgotten about them in the craze of the past few days.

"I almost forgot he was working on them," I respond, glad to hear some good news. "They're already at the Triskellion?"

She nods, taking a sip of her coffee. "He had a guy drop them off this afternoon. They're in your locker, waiting for use."

"Hopefully not too soon," I remind her. "They're only for emergencies."

Natasha smirks. "Speaking of emergencies, we might have one. Fury told me that something strange happened when he tried to open the files I took from the Lemurian Star."

"What kind of strange?" I ask in a whisper, brows furrowing.

"He said that the files were heavily encrypted. When he tried to de-crypt them, he ran into a roadblock. He tried to override the encryption, since he's the Director, but the files were locked."

"Who locked them?" I inquire.

Natasha looks at me with concern. "From what the computer told him, Fury did."

"But that's impossible." I shake my head, trying to make sense of it. "He was the one who wanted the encrypted files. Why would need to de-crypt his own files? Why would he even lock them from himself in the first place?"

"He told me he didn't lock them."

"Do you believe him?"

Natasha nods. "I do. If he didn't encrypt those files, that means someone else did. Someone who could make it look like Fury was behind it. Someone with access and power, another Alpha level agent."

"Who has access like that?" I ask.

"Not many people. Fury, the World Security Council, Secretary Pierce--"

My eyes flicker up to Natasha's face as she lists off the last name. "--Wait...Alexander Pierce?"

She nods. "Yes, how did you know that? Have you met him?"

I scoff, taking a sip of my drink as the boys figure out what to order. "I knew him a long time ago, but we haven't spoken in decades."

Natasha tilts her head, curiously. "Any particular reason why?"

I run my forefinger along the rim of the glass. "A mission in the 80s nearly went south because of Pierce's intel. Luckily, I had other people to depend on. An old friend warned me that Pierce can't be trusted. I wasn't so sure if I believed him, thought maybe Pierce was misled or that it was a coincidence...but now?" I shrug, turning back to her with a tired smile. "I'm uncertain of who my friends an enemies are these days."

"I'll have to keep an eye on Secretary Pierce," Natasha smirks. She places a gentle hand on my shoulder, giving a sincere look. "And I'm your friend. At least, I hope you know that."

I smile widely, nodding back. "I do. You're one of my few."

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After dinner, Natasha leaves for her apartment to get some well-deserved and much-needed rest. Steve, Grant, and I head back to ours, not far from hers, in Alexandria. Steve parks his motorcycle alongside the building, and I park the car in the garage. We, tiredly, make our way up a couple flights of stairs to the third floor where are apartment is.

Along the way, I hear our neighbor--a nurse named Kate--talking on the phone. She steps from her room, wearing scrubs, her arms around a laundry basket. She has a phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder. Her dark blonde hair curls around her shoulders. She's always been a nice neighbor, but we don't know much about her. Does anyone know much about their neighbors anymore?

"So sweet. That is so nice!" She speaks in whispers to whoever is on the other line. She sees the three of us and waves, saying a soft "Hi."

She turns back to her phone call, saying, "I gotta go, though...Okay, bye." She turns to us, laughing a little. "My aunt, she's kind of an insomniac."

I give her a small smile, and an awkward moment of silence passes. Grant turns towards the apartment door. Steve speaks up, saying, "Hey, if you want, you're welcome to use our machine. Might be cheaper than the one in the basement."

Kate smiles at him and asks, "Oh yeah? What's it cost?"

Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not a thing. Just wanna be a good neighbor."

Kate nods, giving us a grateful expression. "Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs. And you really don't want my scrubs in your machine. I just finished a rotation in the infectious disease ward, so..." She trails off, making a face.

Steve chuckles, raising his hands. "Ah, well, I'll keep my distance."

In a friendly manner, Kate responds, "Well, hopefully not too far."

Steve nods, then turns towards me. I raise an eyebrow as Kate heads down the stairs with her laundry. "What?" Steve asks in response to my face.

"You had a chance there to ask her out," I reply, motioning towards Kate's door.

Steve shrugs, looking away. "She's not really my type."

"And who is?"

As Steve opens his mouth to respond, Grant interrupts. "Uh...Mom? Did you leave the record player on?" He turns to me with concern in his dark eyes, moving away from the door.

I shake my head. "We didn't even play it today." I pull Grant back, moving for the glock that's strapped to my belt under my coat. I nod to Steve. "Stay out here. Stay out of sight."

END CHAPTER EIGHT: Friends and Enemies.