WS AU - 7

Cont...

It was late when James finally got back to his apartment.

Sam and him had spent the day getting to know each other. The man was a stand-up guy and had a wicked sense of humor.

James had told stories he hadn't told since his Commando days and they had both just about died laughing tears of happiness rolling down their faces. Sam had had some pretty good ones too.
His wingman reminded James a lot of Steve. The day had been good though filled with moments of guilt and sadness it had been a good time.

 James still hadn't slept and right now that was all that was on his mind. He'd dumped his gear and showered earlier that day and now his bed though still too soft sounded wonderful.

The young nurse smiled as she came out of her apartment next to his holding her laundry, "Evening James."

He nodded with a smile, "Evening Sharon." She bumped up her basket and turned to go.

"Hey," James didn't know what made him stop her. All he wanted was sleep not, a girlfriend as hard as Romanoff would try.
 The blonde turned. No going back.

"If you need to do an extra load you can use mine. That way you don't have to make three trips." James said motioning with keys in hand. Part of him wanted her to say no, he hadn't meant to offer but he was a gentleman above all else.

She smiled, "That's kind but I just finished the first of many to come double shifts in the infectious disease ward. I don't think you would want that in your washer."

James nodded more relieved than he cared to admit, "Alright well, if you do have laundry that won't try and get me sick the offer is open."

Sharon laughed, "Okay. Have a nice night. By the way, I think you left your radio on."

James frowned as soon as she was gone turning to his door. There was indeed music drifting out from behind it. He hasn't left anything on and certainly not the radio or any music. It brought back memories of hazy clubs with singing men, of olive green uniforms, and a blond-haired Punk that had two left feet and couldn't dance to save his life.

James shook away the memories and opened the side window in the hall. Using the fire escape he slid in the apartment and grabbed his sidearm off the counter before clearing the rooms. He came to the living room and stopped. In the chair at the corner sat his intruder.

"Sorry to drop in like this but I had no place to go." James relaxed a fraction, Fury. "My wife kicked me out." The man continued as James stepped around the corner.

"I didn't know you had a wife," James said with a bite to his voice. He was tired and the conversation he had had with Fury earlier was not helping matters. He flipped on the light and froze.

Fury had one arm in a sling and a bruise on his good eye. His arm that was in a sling was a dark color and now that James really focused it did smell like blood. The Director looked like he'd been on the raw end of a bad fight.

Fury put up his good hand, phone in it stopping James from saying anything. Something was wrong. James watched carefully body tense once more as the man flipped the light off. And turned the phone for James to see. Ears everywhere.

 "Not a lot of people do." Fury went back causally to their cover conversation as he flipped the phone for James again. Shield compromised.

James stiffened but forced himself not to react. "Who else knows about your wife?" James asked, choosing his words carefully.

Fury grunted and rose, "Just my friends." The phone said differently. Just you and me.

"Is that what we are?" James asked carefully.

Fury opened his mouth to answer and was cut off by gunshots. The director slumped forward and James caught him and dragged him away from the now destroyed wall and pulled him into the kitchen grabbing the shield in case someone decided to take another shot.

Fury was now gasping on the floor. He reached up and grabbed James' hand firmly pressing something into the soldier's hand, "Don't trust anyone."

The door burst open and James jerked up. He had a flash drive in his hand.
"Sergeant Barnes?" A woman yelled.

Things just kept getting more confusing. "Sharon?" James asked as she came around the corner holding a wicked-looking handgun.

Sharon dove to the cover of the wall of his outer hall, "I'm Agent Thirteen. I was assigned to watch over you."

Don't trust anyone. James frowned, "On whose orders?"

She rounded the corner and lowered her weapon, "His." She rushed over to Fury.

James turned to look out the window and caught a glimpse of someone, far faster than normal, jump away. He could hear Sharon, Agent Thirteen, whatever her name was, calling for an ambulance for Fury and alerting a team of the problem. James secured the shield to his back, shoved the sidearm into the side holster he wore, and grabbed his black weapons case all in one move.

"Tell them I'm in pursuit," James said, already moving out the door.

 He unzipped the bag and discarded it as he went up the stairs. He put together his powerful armor-piercing rifle as he jumped through a building catching sights of the shooter now and then. He was two floors underneath the shooter now his rifle was ready.

The shooter jumped above onto a lower roof exactly the same floor James was on. James launched through the window, rolled on the roof, the shooter in front of him, and steadied himself and shot twice. He hit the man but all there was were dull pings of metal connecting with metal.

The impact threw the man around. His hair was long and dirty and his eyes were a bright expressive blue yet dead. His left arm was completely shiny reflective metal and had taken both shots with no problem. James couldn't see because of the muzzle like mask over his lower face and then he fell.

 James rushed forwards and looked down, the shooter was gone. The street below was empty and undisturbed. The quiet night was broken by the sirens incoming to take Fury. James sagged letting the rifle drop to his side. He could feel the flash drive burning a hole in his pocket and the weight of failure on his chest.

Sleep was not coming to him tonight.

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