Chapter Text
"Why can't Eliot play this part again?” Harry Wilson adjusted his bowtie and eyed his former colleagues. They were in Washington DC to perform a preliminary recon. Their mark, Deven Ellsworth the Second, was making an appearance at the charity gala.
It was designed to help an inner city arts program. Ellsworth claimed to be a supporter of the arts.
The two story vintage theater had been transformed to highlight local art and theater productions. Paintings lined the walls, and sculptures enticed guests to stop and appreciate the skills of the artist. The posters harkened back to a time people loved to romanticize.
It helped the attendees feel better about helping the lower class without actually talking to said lower class.
Breanna was already making a list of future marks.
“You know why,” Sophie said, sipping her champagne. Her jewels glinted in the soft light, and drew more than one eye. She offered soft smiles to admirers and let her flowing red dress do the rest. “Too many people here know him.”
“They know me too,” Harry said. He waved briefly to an old acquaintance.
“It wouldn't be out of the ordinary for you to be here.”
“Need I remind you that I'm on several people's bad sides here?” Eliot grumbled.
“One such person just arrived and should be inside in a few minutes,” Breanna said, tapping away her computer. Eliot sat slouched beside her, scowling at the monitors.
The party played out on the screens, and Eliot had already clocked four spies, two assassins, and several shady government officials.
“Be careful, I just spotted Vance speaking with Valentina Allegra de Fontaine,” Eliot said as he watched his old Army buddy mingle with rich politicians and wealthy donors.
On another screen Deven Ellsworth the Second oozed through the crowd. He tensed as Parker waltzed by, but their mark didn't notice.
“Who’s Vance?” Harry asked as he sipped his own champagne.
“That would be Congressman Michael Vance,” Hardison said. His own gold trimmed tux helped him blend in with the tech bros.“He and Eliot served together. Parker and I met him a few years back.”
“Will he be a problem?” Harry asked. He spotted Congressman Vance move on to speak with some defense contractors, a few he'd helped settle cases for.
“He might be,” Eliot said. “Ellsworth’s company built a military research facility a few years ago.”
“Then again, he trash talked Ellsworth on his official Twitter account two days ago,” Hardison said.
“We'll be fine,” Sophie said. “He doesn't know our faces.”
“Parker, keep some distance between you two. Same goes for you Hardison. I'd rather not get him involved.”
“Will do,” Hardison replied.
“This is about to get interesting,” Sophie said.
Murmurs rose when Congressman Barnes walked in. His hair was styled fashionably for once, and his deep green tux was tailored to fit his physique. The jacket covered the infamous arm, but he wore no glove to hide the hand. Light glinted off the gold lines in the vibranium, and more than a few sets of eyes followed his path.
He moved smoothly through the crowd, eyes tracking every attendant and picking out multiple exits.
Barnes easily spotted those who could be threats, and Eliot's heart stuttered when he glanced at Parker a second too long.
“Guys, we might have a problem.”
“What is that?” Sophie asked from her spot above the crowd. Barnes hadn't turned their way yet, but Eliot was positive he'd already noted those upstairs.
“It’s Barnes,” Eliot said. “I'm sure he's clocked Parker.”
“I haven't done anything,” Parker whispered from the other side of the room. She was posing as waitstaff. Most of the attendees' eyes passed over her as if she were mere decoration, but Barnes was different. He saw the world in a way few understood.
“He's better at spotting threats than I am,” Eliot said.
“But I'm not a threat to him,” Parker said. Her pout carried over the comms as she served champagne to another guest. “Congressman Barnes is not a bad guy.”
“He doesn't know that,” Sophie said.
“Be careful if you have to speak with him,” Eliot said. “He’s earned his paranoia.”
“We’ve got another wrinkle,” Hardison said from his position close to Parker.
Captain Sam Wilson walked in, dressed in a sharp dark blue tux, and a cream colored shirt. A sparkling red tie pin pulled the look together. It made a statement without him carrying the shield.
“What is he doing here?” Eliot growled, leaning forward. He zoomed the camera in and followed Sam’s path through the room. “He wasn't on the guests list.”
Breanna cast a glance his way, concern etched on her face. “Umm, care to share with the class?”
Hardison and Parker shared worried looks. “What's wrong?”
“We’ve known each other for years.” Eliot sagged back and ran a hand through his hair. “We used to be pretty close, but I went down a path he knew was unforgivable. That's all you need to know.”
Hardison bit back a choked squeak and backed further into his corner. “You know THE best Captain America? Why did you never tell me?”
“It's not something I like to talk about.”
“Stay on task,” Sophie warned.
Captain Wilson looked over the room and caught almost every threat Barnes had spotted. The team stayed back and watched as Barnes intercepted Captain Wilson before Valentina could reach him.
The pair traded a few tense words before moving somewhere more private. Camera flashes followed them.
“What should we do?” Harry asked.
“We do our best to avoid Congressman Barnes and Captain Wilson. Try and keep our focus on Ellsworth.” Sophie pointed to the crowd. “Our client is counting on us.”
She held out her arm and Harry took it. The two made their way down stairs and headed towards Ellsworth.
He was talking about the upgrades he'd made standard to his buildings when they arrived. Hardison had joined and was grilling him on the details.
“Well, my company is expanding home security,” he said. “No more relying on things like ring cameras. We've got tech that is basically your own personal AI assistant. It works off satellites, and is practically indestructible. It won't go down if your Wi-Fi goes out.”
Ellsworth smiled like Hardison was an eager toddler telling his parents about his day. “I'm sure it's all fascinating, but I'm looking for things that are accessible to everyone, not just the powerful.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Sophie said. She extended her hand and Ellsworth shook it. “Tammy Dawlins. I work for Architectural News. We're a small, but growing magazine dedicated to the wonders of urban development.”
She gestured towards Harry. “This is my associate, Harry Wilson.”
Her words came out in a sweet honeyed drawl that reminded Eliot of Sunday's spent helping the church, and organizing food drives.
He laughed as their mark fell for her act, and Hardison played up the slighted tech bro.
“Well, Miss Dawlins,” Ellsworth said. “It's a pleasure to meet you. What does your magazine focus on?”
Sophie smiled and held out a hand. Harry gave a tablet with their fake website already pulled up.
“We love to highlight the innovators of the architectural world.” She showed him the website. “As you can see, we do in-depth features on one or two architects who are revitalizing urban development.”
She clicked through the website showing glossy articles about high-tech buildings. “ We would love to do a feature on one of your buildings.”
Ellsworth smiled, and gently caressed Sophie’s hand. “We could always discuss the possibility over lunch tomorrow.”
“That would be lovely!” Sophie gushed.
“Come to my office tomorrow,” he said, handing over a business card. “We'll go over the details then.”
Sophie took it and slid it into her purse. “I can't wait to hear more."
Chapter 2
Notes:
This story will contain poor Bucky dealing with Congress. I'm not letting him off that easy. From my quick Google search, a member of Congress can have an outside job as long as it doesn't interfere with their Congressional duties.
Also, members of Congress can't be active military. The Avengers are not the military, and as long as missions don't interfere with his duties to Congress, he's good.
Basically, I wanted stories about Bucky being an active member of Congress. I have yet to find any, so I wrote this.
Also, I adore Sam Wilson. I'm trying to portray the Sam and Bucky 'fight' in this story as two best friends trying to do the right thing. They just happened to be on opposite sides and hate it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The party sucked. The guests sucked, and Bucky wished he could get drunk. His suit, though finely made, felt confining and everything itched. He wanted to rip the bowtie off, and burn the whole outfit.
He was only at the party because he was the de facto leader of an Avengers team. After the fiasco in New York City, President McGuire had insisted on a meeting.
Valentina’s public reputation was still too toxic. But Bucky, according to President McGuire, could appeal to everyday Americans. He just had to remind people of where he came from.
President McGuire hadn't liked it when Bucky asked which past, his Hydra past or his WW2 past.
Unfortunately for him, he now had to sit in on several bilateral meetings with different members of the Intelligence Community every few weeks. For the initial meeting, the sole topic had been international security.
Dreams of covert missions to further certain ideals had been dashed.
Bucky had put his foot down, and there had been a lot of yelling in those meetings.
They'd only backed down when he began listing the coordinates of black sites he wasn't supposed to know about.
Some of the people he'd spoken to during those meetings were in attendance tonight. Outside of work, they pretended he didn't exist, and Bucky was fine with that arrangement.
As Bucky greeted a few guests, he spotted a slight blonde weaving through the crowd. The grace of her movements tugged at old memories of small girls doing ballet. Then, she lifted Deven Ellsworth the Second’s phone.
He paused, frowning as she did something he couldn't see, and slipped it back into Ellsworth's pocket. He carefully wandered closer and focused his attention onto her. She wasn't a Window, but she moved like them.
“But I'm not a threat to him! Congressman Barnes is not a bad guy!”
Bucky snorted at her words. Well, this was interesting. He started moving her way when excitement filled the room. He turned and spotted Sam walking in. Valentina was heading straight for him.
“Shit.” Bucky slipped through the crowd and reached him first.
“Hey, Sam,” he said, keeping one eye on Valentina. A dark haired woman and a tall man had cut her off.
“Congressman Barnes,” Sam said, polite, cold. He kept his voice low so the vultures around them wouldn't hear.
“Who dragged you here?” Bucky said. The words were stale and brittle. They crumbled at his feet like glass shards. The memory of their last phone call made him flinch.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Bucky grumbled and moved them to a quiet corner. “It’s my job to be here.”
Sam's other eyebrow rose.
“They think it will ease tensions if I make nice and look friendly before world leaders arrive for the Nato Summit.” The weight of two worlds crashed onto his shoulders, and he didn't think he could hold everything up much longer.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh, is that all, Congressman?”
Bucky gave him a flat look. “You weren’t even supposed to be here. I have to play nice.”
“You really expect me to believe that?” Sam asked, arms crossed.
“Do I need to pull up articles about tonight?” Bucky asked. “I know you're angry, but when did you stop trusting me?”
Sam took several deep breaths. “You've been hiding something ever since the Black Out, and don't give me a ‘need-to-know’ bullshit answer.”
Bucky swore and glanced around. People were still trying to see what they were doing, and only his deepening scowl had the braver ones backing off.
Sam noticed their wannabe audience too and his irritation grew.
“Just tell me why,” Sam asked. “You know what I've been through and what it means to have Captain America leading the Avengers.”
Bucky pulled them further away and lowered his voice. “I told you that was Valentina!”
“You seem okay with it now.” Sam eyed the red, stylized Avengers pin on his jacket lapel. It had a tiny Z in place of the S. It had been a gift from the team.
“You heard what President McGuire said.” Bucky sagged against the wall feeling every one of his 110 years.
“I can't…” Sam shook his head. “How did this happen?”
“You let me run for Congress.”
“Not funny, Buck.”
“When I found them, I was hoping they would testify before Congress. We ended up with an emergency in New York instead.”
“How did that happen?” Sam asked. “Your messages were very light on the details.”
“She experimented on someone, and unleashed depression personified. Getting physically stuck in our worst memories was great.” Bucky grimaced and down the crappy champagne he'd grabbed earlier. It bubbled along his tongue and left a slightly bitter aftertaste.
Sam dropped his head and briefly closed his eyes. “I'd like a serious answer.”
“That is the serious answer,” Bucky whispered. “You heard the reports. Did you even listen to my last few messages, or did they just get automatically deleted?”
“That's not fair.” Sam set his shoulders, and his expression was grim. Something close to hurt lurked behind the anger in his eyes.
“Have you seen what the press is saying? They're questioning if I'm qualified to even be Captain America!”
“None of this is fair,” Bucky snapped. “In a perfect world, you would be the leader of the Avengers, and I'd spend my days letting you talk me out of punching my colleagues. Hell, maybe it would even be our team. Instead, I have a team of outsiders who want to be more than just weapons, and a job people are using to discredit you!”
He sighed and rubbed his face. “I won't let them be used.”
Sam nodded and the hurt leaked through the anger. “I know, but I can't let the name thing slide.”
“I know.”
“So, what are we supposed to do?” Sam asked. He leaned against the wall next to Bucky, their shoulders brushing.
“I don't know,” Bucky said. “We could grab our teams and run away to Canada.”
“Captain Canada.” Sam laughed. “I'll have to change the star to a maple leaf.”
“Maybe add moose antlers to your helmet?” Bucky asked.
“We'll see,” he said. He sighed and stepped away from the wall. “I'm not dropping the lawsuit.”
Bucky chuckled. “Please, don't. Val twitches every time it's mentioned.”
Sam offered a tired smile and walked back into the crowd. Bucky stayed in the hallway a little longer, just breathing and wishing he could punch his way out of this problem.
Sadly, he felt like he was going to have to follow Sam's old advice and use his words.
Pushing off the wall he rejoined the party. This time he grabbed a glass of whiskey and tried to pretend he wasn't one second from running away.
He caught a few people's eyes and tried nodding like a normal person. Some Intelligence Analysts paled and found other people to talk to.
By luck he spotted the blonde from earlier talking to a guest. She wasn't carrying a tray this time, and the guy was showing her his phone. They stood too close together to not know each other.
Interest piqued, Bucky casually headed in their direction. He focused his hearing on them and picked up a few bits of their conversation.
“It looks like Ellsworth is using his government connections to move onto bigger and more profitable projects.”
The blonde’s grew dark. “He's not settling for just stealing from Nanas. He wants to steal from the country too.”
Nanas? Bucky frowned into his glass and slipped behind a metal sculpture. It depicted an elephant rising up, trunk in the air. It made for great coverage.
He pulled out his phone and did a quick search on Ellsworth. The top articles talked about a lawsuit between an elderly woman and Ellsworth.
“Man's already helped build one military facility. He's trying to get them to let him build more.”
“You know how I feel about Nana haters.”
“Still lurking in the shadows?”
Bucky swallowed a growl and pasted on the fakest smile he could manage.
“Congressman Vance,” Bucky greeted. “How's the reelection campaign going?”
Vance’s pleasant expression flickered, a glitch in a carefully constructed mask. “It’s going great. My poll numbers are up.” He lowered his voice and glanced around. “I saw the recent articles about that bill you co-wrote with Congressman Gary. Taxpayers don't like their money being spent on entitlement programs.”
Bucky glared. “I hadn't realized trying to help working families was a bad thing.”
“You need to focus on the bigger picture,” Vance said. “People want a strong government, safe borders, and good jobs. There's no need for all that ‘green energy’ stuff.”
“In my day, people also wanted good jobs, but the Great Depression and Dust Bowl ruined that,” Bucky tapped his chin with his metal finger. “How did the country get out of that mess again?”
“Times have changed since then. People are taking advantage of these programs.” Vance clucked like a disappointed parent talking down to their child. “You’d know that if you tried talking to real Americans sometimes.”
Bucky's jaw nearly dropped. “Are you calling me an elitist?” He refused to acknowledge the squeak in his voice.
Vance shook his head. “You've been out of touch for years. It's why your poll numbers are so low.”
He walked away while Bucky resisted the urge to throw his glass. He could easily hit Vance. His aim was perfect. A voice in his head, sounding very much like Sam, was telling him to stop.
Bucky downed the drink instead and slipped through the crowd.
Forget the group of thieves. Forget playing nice.
He'd been here long enough and he was going home to eat his weight in pizza.
Fuck. He hated politics.
Notes:
I will be putting my sources to things here. As I said, this story will deal with politics. Somethings will get handwaved because it's Leverage and Marvel. Others, won't.
I'm an avid listener to political podcasts. These podcasts are hosted by people who used to work in the government. They know what they're talking about, and often bring on other experts.
And before any gets worried, I have despised that Moldy Mango in the White House for years.
But plot points aside, this fic is supposed to be fun. So, I hope you all enjoy it. 😊
Chapter Text
"We should use this as an alternate base.” Parker swung from the rafters, enjoying the way the exposed beams let her practice her climbing skills.
The team was gathered back at their temporary headquarters. Hardison had acquired a converted warehouse for their personal use. It gave them more privacy.
Exposed brick walls and soft lighting gave it a homey feel. Floor to ceiling windows allowed a lovely view of the city, and an open air patio offered a quiet place to enjoy fresh air and a good book
A set of stairs led to a second story with several bedrooms and a game room. Hardison had already added a pool table.
The team took advantage of the wide open floorplan and set up different work stations.
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea.” Harry added as he organized files. He'd taken over the dining area and had paperwork spread out over the table. “I've got a few cases coming up in the area and this would be better than staying in a hotel.”
“We've got most of the security up.” Breanna held a screen while Hardison attached it to the wall. “It would be a shame to take it all down again.”
Hardison finished attaching wires and moved onto cleaning up their tools. “We could turn it into a legal consulting firm.”
“Wouldn’t that require us to find another lawyer?” Parker asked.
“Not necessarily, but having another person with legal knowledge wouldn't hurt,” Harry said. “You would need a general business license, though.”
He moved over to the two whiteboards. One detailed Ellsworth’s businesses and known associates. Another held the outlines of various cons. Harry added a few details to Ellsworth’s business practices.
“I'm not sure how much we could use this place,” Eliot said.
“Would that be because you terrify half the politicians in DC?” Hardison chuckled at Eliot’s grumbled curses.
“Maybe one of the other teams could use it.” Breanna stepped back and started syncing up the monitors.
“Spoil sport.” Parker flipped to the ground behind Hardison. He yelped and she kissed his cheek.
“We'll see how this job goes before we claim the space for ourselves.” Eliot did like the kitchen. It had restaurant grade appliances and ample space for a rooftop garden.
A large tomato salad was quickly coming together. Eliot added slices of red onion, some black olives, and feta cheese. He drizzled a balsamic dressing over top and set it aside.
The timer on the oven went off and he pulled out the pork chops and roasted baby potatoes. A quick check with a thermometer let him know they were done and he started plating up dinner.
The smell of food drew the team to the kitchen island and Eliot passed around the plates.
Sophie finished up her phone call with their mark and settled on one of the stools.
“Ellsworth wants to meet tomorrow at three,” she said. “He's eager to finalize the details about our exclusive in-depth article on one of his projects.”
“Did he say which one?” Harry asked.
“No,” she said. “He's still hesitant to trust us.”
Parker stabbed a piece of meat. “He smells creepy.”
“Man has a creepy face.” Hardison shuddered. “Did y'all see how big his gums are? It's weird.”
“He is all up his own ass.” Breanna paused to finish chewing. “He basically wants to be the Tony Stark of real estate, but without the whole superhero side gig.”
“Eliot.” Sophie sipped her wine. “Do you think you could get onto the crew at one of Ellsworth’s sites?”
“I could,” Eliot said as he tucked into his own food. “Though, we'll have to be careful.”
“Try to stay in the background,” she said. “See if you can't get in with a few of the regular workers.”
“He's got something going a few blocks from the Capitol Building.” Hardison swiped through a few screens on his phone and grinned. “You are now part of the crew working on The Tranquillity Luxury Condos.”
Harry frowned and looked up from the file he was reading. “I know you guys have faked your way through jobs before, but can you manage a whole day at a construction site?”
“My Dad used to own a hardware store.” Fond memories of distant summers drift through Eliot's thoughts. “I got my first job at fifteen painting houses.”
“That is weirdly normal,” Breanna said. "It's like finding out Batman was a boy scout."
Eliot sighed and wished for patience. "You’ve met my Dad.”
She stole one of his potatoes. “Yeah, and it's still weird knowing you grew up in Smallville.”
Eliot rolled his eyes and finished off his beer. “We need information on how Ellsworth really runs his business.”
“I could steal his files.” Parker lit up and bounced in her seat. “Maybe he has a safe!”
“We'll do that later,” Sophie said. “Right now we're gathering all the little details Breanna and Hardison can't find on a computer.”
“I could see if there's anything on file with the city.” Harry jotted down some notes. “He’ll need things like permits, inspections, zoning approval, site plans. He'd have to file all the paperwork at City Hall.”
“I'll go with Harry,” Parker said. She snatched a tomato off Hardison's plate. “That way I get to steal something.”
Breanna pushed her plate away and headed back to the living room.
“Alec and I will keep digging through the web.”
Hardison finished his food and followed. “Creepy guy like that is bound to have some scandal we can use.”
“Great,” Sophie smiled. “Let's go steal a real estate mogul.”
Notes:
The only thing worth noting is Breanna's comment about Eliot growing up in Smallville. In season two of Leverage: Redemption, The Fractured Job, the team meets Eliot's dad, Billy. He was played by the brilliant Keith David. In the original series, Eliot stated that his dad used to own a hardware store.
Chapter Text
Bucky wondered what would happen if he set the budget reconciliation bill on fire.
Would the Sergeant at Arms arrest him? Would the building be evacuated? Would he be able to go home and sleep?
He glanced around the House floor before checking his watch again. It was 11:35 p.m on a Tuesday, and people were still arguing about its contents.
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. An ache pulsed behind his eyes. Patterns on the blue carpet swirled together. He hadn't eaten since his hurried lunch at 2:00 p.m.
The bill was a steaming pile of rot that not even Hydra would want. The evil contained within was too obvious.
The hearing shouldn't have been going on this long. They should have tossed it in the shredder and started over.
“And this next item,” Congresswoman Virginia Meyers said, voice clear and sharp despite the late hour. She pushed dark hair behind her ear and leveled a glare that clearly stated how dumb she thought her target was.
“You want to cut money from WIC and SNAP to help pay for a military research project? And what project would that be Congressman Vance?”
Bucky perked up. He'd come across a brief mention of the project when he'd read the bill. It was tied to the new military bases the Army was having built.
“This project will help advance our military and give our soldiers the tools they need to keep this country safe.”
“But what exactly will it do?”
“That is outlined in the bill,” Vance said.
“Excuse me,” Bucky broke in. “Umm…no it's not.”
Every eye turned his way and he refused to slide under his desk like he wanted.
“I read the bill,” Bucky said into the silence. He quickly flipped to the page he'd made his notes on. Colorful tags stuck out of the bill, highlighting the different issues he had with it.
President McGuire had privately encouraged him to participate more. If the public saw him pushing for effective laws, the New Avengers approval ratings would go up.
He'd also hinted that Bucky's own poll numbers would benefit too. It would give him more leverage over Valentina and her supporters.
So, he took the advice to heart and decided to be thorough. He hated it.
“From my reading, the bill never explicitly states what the military will spend the extra money on.”
Vance clenched his jaw. “It's to help us develop better weapons and training strategies for our soldiers. We have an aging and outdated fleet of tanks and drones. Our systems are some of the best, but could be better. The threats to this country have changed over the years.”
Bucky wished he could punch someone. It had been a few weeks.
“But why take away from these programs to do that? SNAP is 1% to roughly 2% of our total budget. WIC only gets about $7 billion dollars out of a $6.8 trillion dollars. These programs help millions of people.”
Vance looked at Bucky like he was a toddler trying to explain how his shoes made him go fast.
“Congressman Barnes, this program would lighten your workload.” He tilted his head. “Didn't you almost miss a vote three weeks ago because of that rift opening over New Jersey?”
Bucky's face went blank and he carefully sat his pen down. The Sergeant at Arms shifted slightly towards the door. Other members of Congress paled.
“My workload isn't your concern,” Bucky said. He tapped his metal fingers on the wooden desk. The gentle knocking echoed across the House floor. “But this horrendous bill should be. Why do you guys hate poor people?”
“Now listen, Congressman Barnes,” another voice jumped in. This time it was Congressman Pete Watkins. The man looked as ancient as Bucky sometimes felt and he marveled at how he could possibly still be going.
“I know you understand how things used to be. Our generations worked hard for what we have.”
“We didn't have these programs in my day.”
A few people shifted in their seats and eyed the exits.
Bucky sighed and put both hands on his desk. “I work with our current military at times. Our soldiers don't need new weapons, or training strategies when tens of thousands of our active duty soldiers rely on these programs too.”
“Congressman Barnes,” Vance interrupted. “This project will benefit our fellow soldiers.”
“How? Does it give them a pay raise?” Congresswoman Meyers asked. “Because my colleague has made some very valid points.”
Another voice jumped in and the fighting passed Bucky by. He sighed and closed his copy of the bill.
Why couldn't people just do the right thing?
Another hour passed and the session finally came to a close. Bucky grabbed his things and nearly mowed colleagues over in his rush to be free.
“Congressman Barnes!”
Bucky swore and paused. The warm summer air hit like a sledgehammer after the artificial cold of the House floor. Stars twinkled in the sky, and a full moon lit the world in a silver light.
Congresswoman Meyers rushed to his side. Congressman Gary followed a few hesitant steps behind her.
“Can I help you?” Bucky asked. His colleagues normally didn't spend much time with him. Gary would tolerate him on occasion, but preferred to keep their interactions brief. Other, more established members of Congress, didn't quite know how to deal with him.
He was the oldest member of Congress. He complained about prices, and how confusing young people were.
He didn't vote the same way colleagues closer to his age voted. He advocated for helping people regardless of who and what they were.
He didn't fit into their tidy little boxes.
Congresswoman Meyers met his gaze with a tired smile and held out her hand. “I don't think we've ever been properly introduced. I'm Virginia Meyers.”
“Bucky,” he said, giving her hand a quick shake.
“I appreciate what you tried to do in there,” she said. Her sigh carried the weight of the world. “There aren't enough people speaking out about this horrid bill.”
“Congressman Barnes is usually quieter during these sessions,” Gary said, giving him a confused look.
“The bill is trash, and I'm tired of people romanticizing my time period.” Bucky ran a hand through his hair. It was starting to reach his shoulders again, but he couldn't be bothered to cut it. “They don't want to hear about how Stevie’s Ma’ used to skip meals so he could get medicine, or how I started working on the docks at 14 to help pay rent.”
“At least you understand that it's hard now too,” Virginia said. “Most of our colleagues who are closer to your age seem to forget that houses don't cost $13,000 anymore.”
Bucky barked out a laugh. “Stevie and I paid around $20.00 a month in rent for our apartment. It was small, shitty, and barely had any heat in the winter. The condo I bought in Brooklyn recently costs around $3100.”
“And is it still small and shitty?”
Bucky smirked. “It has heat. Now. Though, I think the insulation I ripped out last month was older than me.”
“I'm a little surprised you didn't support the military spending,” Gary said. “You were…still are? Military…I think.”
“After everything went down, I got my honorable discharge and some medals I threw in a drawer.” Bucky shrugged. “I understand the importance of having a well trained military. I just don't like how they won't say what this project is, or how they think they can screw people over to get funding.”
“That caught my eye too,” she said. “Keeping certain information classified is one thing. This feels like something else.”
“That's what worries me.”
“Good. We could use your insight.” Virginia reached into her purse and handed him a card. “Here's my number. We're trying to get together to discuss how to stop this bill. You should come.”
“Bucky isn't really social,” Gary said.
Virginia raised an eyebrow. “Things change, Gary. It's time the party changed with it.”
She waved as she left and Gary nodded and followed.
Bucky tucked the card into his pocket and started home. It was almost 1:00 a.m and luckily there was a Denny's nearby. Thanks to modern technology, he'd already ordered online. Now, he could get his food and head back to his apartment.
He was just locking his door when his phone rang. Yelena's name flashed across the screen.
“Who did what now?” he asked as he kicked off his shoes. He put his things down and sank into the couch. The soft lights helped ease the ache in his head. His oversized couch cradled him in comfort. The brick wall outside his window reminded him of home.
Two to-go containers ended up on his coffee table and he flipped them open. His breakfast burritos greeted him like long lost friends.
Yelena laughed. “You sound grumpy.”
“I just got home,” Bucky said around a mouth full of everything that made breakfast wonderful.
He turned the TV on and left it on a sports channel. A highlight reel showing the day's soccer games played.
“We saw your squabbling on TV. It lasted many hours. John had a few choice words.”
“I bet he did.” Bucky sighed. “Is this an important call?”
“We're supposed to assist Captain America with a transport mission in Sokovia soon. It should last about a week.” Yelena grew quiet. “Val thinks if we show him up, it will be good PR.”
“Fuck.” Bucky rubbed his forehead. “I know about the mission. I was going to talk to everyone tonight, but…” He drank his terrible coffee and started planning his retirement. “No one is going to show Sam up. I don't care what Val says. Follow his lead, and everything should be fine.”
“You won't be here?” Yelena asked.
“No,” Bucky said. He finished one burrito and started on the other. “Congress is still in session and I have to be here. It's part of our deal.”
“Okay. We will listen to Wilson because Val is trash and also don't let Walker near him. Got it.”
Bucky laughed and the last of the tension drained from his shoulders. He'd be lost without Yelena. “Thanks.”
“You owe me a fancy dinner.”
“Name a time and a place.”
She laughed and hung up. Bucky quickly scheduled a text to send to Sam in the morning. He'd need a heads up for whatever nonsense Val was trying to pull.
Notes:
I googled apartment rent prices in 1940. I ended up picking the lower price for Bucky and Steve. I used Zillow for today's prices. It's based on a roughly 650 square foot condo that cost $2500 a month, plus $1000 a month in HOA fees.
The numbers for our current government budget are real. The numbers for WIC and SNAP are real too. I couldn't get a definite number for how many soldiers are on these programs, but it ranges into the thousands.
Chapter Text
Wednesday morning Eliot showed up to the worksite on time and ready to work. The sun was slowly creeping up in the sky, bringing heat and humidity with it.
The new apartment complex consisted of several three story buildings. The leasing office and lobby appeared mostly finished and as he walked up, he spotted what would be the complex’s pool.
He wandered over to the foreman's trailer with the rest of the new highers.
The foreman stood on the top step and took in the crowd. He was tall, broad shouldered, and had more gray than black in his beard. His thick arms and hands showed a man who'd spent his life building things out in the sun.
His dark gaze swept over the group as he waited for everyone to settle.
“First things first,” he said, “I'm Lenny Anderson. I run this crew. You do what I say, when I say it. Understand?”
Soft murmurs rose up.
“Second, we're on a tight schedule. The head boss wants this building done by the end of the month.” He waved his clipboard around. “As you can see, that means we have a lot of work to do.”
He flipped up a page on the clipboard. “Jefferson, Bradley, and Cooper,” he said, pointing to one group. “You're with Mathew on the electrical crew.”
Another row of names were called and the group was carefully split into different work stations based on their experience.
Eliot had done a lot of everything. He ended up on the drywall crew, and soon found a rhythm. It was familiar work with quiet chatter and the buzzing of tools.
According to his immediate boss Waylon, everything had to be above code.
“We need to get this lobby area done by Friday,” he said as Eliot lugged in another stack of drywall. He sat it carefully on the ground.
“The floor guys will be here next week, and after that, the painters.”
Eliot wiped his forehead. Sweat dripped down his back and caused stray hairs to curl. Dirt, and dust coated his arms. He refused to acknowledge the conditions in his boots–he’d dealt with worse–but he would appreciate a short break. The air was sticky and temperatures were hot. He wasn't twenty anymore.
Sophie's soft laugh as she dined with Ellsworth at a nearby country club had jealousy clawing at his skin and rattling his nerves.
Some days he wished he had the easy jobs.
“That seems a little fast,” Eliot said. “Are all the jobs like this?”
Waylon laughed. “Sometimes. Ellsworth occasionally gets a bug up his ass about impressing the ‘right crowd’ and tries to rush things. Lenny usually sets him right.”
“He's worked for Ellsworth that long?” Eliot began measuring sections of drywall.
“He don't work for Ellsworth,” Waylon said. “Ellsworth hires Lenny’s construction company to build everything. Then Lenny hires extra hands as needed.”
Waylon patted him on the shoulder and went to his own work. “Don't worry. Lunch is in about an hour, and we get another fifteen minute break an hour and a half before shift ends at five.”
Eliot smiled and got back to work.
“Did y'all hear that?” he whispered as he lined up a sheet of drywall and screwed it in place.
“We need access to Lenny’s computer,” Breanna said.
“I ran a background check and the guy seems clean,” Hardison said. “He contracts with multiple firms and always goes above safety regulations.”
“Did he work on that military contract?” Eliot asked as he measured and cut more drywall.
“Um…yeah, but not for the main building,” Hardison said. “It looks like his people built the training grounds and did the landscaping.”
“I'll see what I can do,” Eliot said, “but it might take awhile. I noticed Lenny keeps the office door locked if he's not in there.”
“There's no rush for now,” Sophie whispered. “Parker and Harry just got done with the city council building.”
“We found a ton of paperwork and blueprints.”
“Ellsworth is doing a good job of making everything seem legit,” Harry said. “He's filed all the correct paperwork.”
“Of course he has,” Sophie said. “Eliot, have you spoken to anyone else?”
“I’ve talked to a few old-timers and nobody has anything bad to say about Lenny,” Eliot said. “They all hate Ellsworth, but like the paychecks more so they put up with it.”
“Good. Make sure to stay on their good sides,” Sophie said.
“Will do. I did get a picture of the building schedule and I cloned a couple of the guys’ phones.”
“That’s awesome,” Hardison said, chipper and sweet, like a kindergarten teacher praising a student. “I knew you could do it. I'm proud of you.”
“Shut up, Hardison.”
It was early evening when Eliot trudged through the door, hungry, tired, and wanting a shower.
Breanna greeted with a distracted wave as she dug through Ellsworth's permits and building applications.
“Where is everyone?” he asked. He grabbed a bottle of water and drank half. It was cold and soothed his scratchy throat.
“Sophie and Harry are at a gallery opening Ellsworth is attending.” Breanna pulled up the security cameras showing the museum. “Hardison and Parker should be back with food soon.”
“I'm going to take a shower.”
Breanna gave a thumbs up, and Eliot went to his room. He'd lucked out this time and his room had an ensuite bath. It wasn't fancy, just a sink, toilet and a shower, but it had wonderful water pressure.
His clothes ended up in a small pile in the corner. The water turned on and ran blessedly cool over his overheated skin.
He may have stood under the spray a little longer than needed before scrubbing flakes of drywall out of his hair. He turned the water hot once the water at his feet ran clear.
He rubbed his conditioner into his hair and used a wide tooth comb to get most of the tangles out. It took longer than he'd like. The day's weather had caused the strands to clump together.
Finally, Eliot rinsed and turned the water off. By the time he'd gotten dressed in comfortable clothes, there were several large pizzas waiting.
He grabbed a plate, a beer, and four slices before settling into a chair facing the TV. Breanna still had the security feed up as she and Hardison searched through files. Parker stole bits of Hardison's food and made adjustments to the con.
A sharp ringing startled the group. Eliot frowned and stalked back into his room. He dug into his bag and pulled out a small black phone and unlocked the screen.
Everyone gathered in the doorway and stayed quiet as Eliot answered the call.
“Vance, it's been awhile,” Eliot said.
“Hello, to you too,” he said. “It's so nice to speak to you after all these years.”
“Why are you calling me?” Eliot rolled his eyes and tried to shoo his team from the door. They inched closer.
“Did you really think I wouldn't know you're in DC? Do you have any idea how many jumpy world leaders I've had to deal with lately?”
“I'm not the only one making them nervous.” Eliot smirked. Parker slid up next to him and listened in.
“Don't remind me. Everytime Barnes gets so much as a grumpy look on his face everyone’s blood pressure goes through the roof.”
“You poor thing.”
“Shut up, Spencer,” Vance grumbled. “I spotted your people at the gala. You're going after Ellsworth.”
“What's it to you?” Eliot said. Hardison and Breanna joined Parker in eavesdropping. Eliot adjusted the phone so they could listen.
“He's one of Valentina’s favorite associates,” Vance said. “I've got some information you'd be interested in knowing.”
“Why bring this to me?” Eliot asked. “You're the government now.”
“There's only so much I can do,” Vance said. “You all saw that with Valentina’s failed impeachment. But you guys…”
“Where and what time?”
“I've got a few meetings in the morning and early afternoon, so around 4:00? I'll text you the details.”
Eliot sighed and shoved Hardison away from his left shoulder. “All right. I can meet you tomorrow. See ya then.”
He hung up the phone and turned it off. It was quickly stuffed back into his bag, and he zipped it closed.
“Um…that wasn't Hardison's phone,” Breanna said.
“Nope,” Eliot said, heading back to the living room and sitting down. The others followed.
“That's Eliot's ‘private’ phone that we can't touch.” Parker reclaimed her seat and stole a slice of Hardison's pizza. “He's very adamant about it.”
“Let's just say that as long as I answer that phone, certain people look the other way.” Eliot picked up his food and started eating again.
“But how did Congressman Vance know you were here?” she asked, looking from one tense face to another.
“Don't think about why that is.”
“Okay.” Breanna nodded. “So, now what?”
“Tomorrow, I'll go see what he has.” Eliot ran his hand through his hair. It was still damp and curling around his shoulders. He'd have to take care of it later. Damn it. “Hopefully, it will be worth it.”
Chapter 6
Notes:
It's Bucky's first encounter with Team Leverage. Enjoy!
Chapter Text
Bucky frowned as he spotted his guest. The man sat just outside his office. His suit screamed corporate stooge and his black shoes reflected light like a mirror.
The watch on his wrist cost more than Bucky's whole outfit, and he clutched a designer leather briefcase like a scared child holding a favorite stuffy.
“Can I help you?”
The man blanched, swallowed, and gathered his tattered courage.
Bucky contemplated walking out. He didn't have the patience to coddle people, to make himself appear less terrifying than the boogie man featured in Hydra files still plastered all over the Internet.
He also hadn't planned to dress for Congress today either. His sturdy boots were more suited to hard labor than office work and his green shirt did nothing to hide the arm.
There were no committee meetings on his schedule, no interviews, just the regular daily work he had to perform. But somehow he'd ended up with an early morning meeting.
“Um…Mark Williams.” The man held out his hand. Bucky ignored it. He trudged by and sank into his chair. The large desk had come with the office. The chair was his and it supported his tired frame perfectly.
“What do you want?” Bucky asked. He already had a stack of messages to get through and he hated talking on the phone.
Mark hesitated before sitting down in the chair across from Bucky.
“I'm a lawyer representing a class action lawsuit involving several residents in your district.” Mark pulled out a stack of papers. “They’re suing to stop the government from taking their homes and letting Deven Ellsworth the Second put in a military training facility.”
“Ellsworth has already been given the greenlight to build these facilities,” Bucky said. “We've been having very public hearings over extra funding.”
“I know, but do you know how the government acquired the land?” Harry sat the papers on his desk.
“They bought it.”
“Yes, after several of my clients’ homes were condemned, or foreclosed on through trumped up code violations.” Mark handed one file over. “One homeowner was told they failed to pay property taxes, but all of their records show payment. The government got the city council to vote in their favor, and they took the home.”
Bucky read over the information. The city records showed a lack of payment while the homeowner’s bank statements showed the payment withdrawals.
“I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
“You have a wide reach. You could bring national attention to the issue by possibly holding hearings. You could investigate the case, or act as a resource to your constituents.”
“How would I do that?”
“You could advocate on their behalf within the appropriate channels.”
“Harry, tell him you believe Ellsworth is possibly working with someone in the government to enrich themselves at the expense of the homeowners.”
Bucky frowned as the voice reached his ears. It was soft, British, and tickled a faint memory.
“Um…what's this?” Bucky held up a sheet of paper. Ellsworth's signature was on it.
“It’s part of a citation. It claims that the property in question is blighted, meaning the owners let it get run down.”
Mark sorted through the papers and spread them out for Bucky to see.
“He comes to his targets with falsified claims and city inspectors. This intimidates people into selling their homes at a reduced price.” Harry produced another pile of papers. “I've got sworn affidavits from former employees stating that this is a common practice.”
Mark sighed and held Bucky's gaze. “Put your name behind our FOIA request,” Mark said. “We’d have a better chance of a favorable outcome with your backing.”
“Seriously?” Bucky looked around to see if he'd accidentally stepped into an alternate universe. “Do you know who I am? I frowned at my phone one day, and news outlets ran stories wondering about my mental state.”
“Be careful, Harry. You're losing him.”
This was the fourth time he'd experienced this, and Bucky was pretty sure he wasn't losing what Hydra had left him of his mind.
Whoever Mark, or Harry was, he was using a comm system.
Another voice drifted over. This one male. It was rough, Southern, and the comment hit a little too close for Bucky's liking.
“It was stupid too. That wasn't his about to kick someone’s ass frown. It was his distracted frown.”
“How do you know that?” Another woman's voice asked. This one sounded young. “Do you know him too?”
“No. He just has very distinctive frowns.”
“I like his scary frowns. They make bad guys run.”
“Parker!”
He studied the guy before him. Harry, or Mark, was a lawyer. That much was true, but something bigger was going on.
“Stop it. We need him on our side if we want to take Ellsworth down. The Delaney’s are counting on us.”
“I know public opinion hasn't been kind to you, but you ran on a platform of helping people,” Fake Mark said. “Show them you're willing to do that in a way that isn't just stopping the latest threat.”
Bucky signed. He wasn't cut out for this. He was a soldier. He'd been nothing but a weapon. Now he was juggling two jobs trying to keep his team safe while the public scrutinized his every move.
“Look, just leave this here and if I can help I'll let you know.”
“Okay, thank you.” Fake Mark stood. “Here's my card. Call me if you're interested.”
Bucky waited until he was gone to close his door. He paused, then searched the office. A tiny, sophisticated listening device sat under his desk calendar. He found a second one on the back of the safe he kept classified papers in. They weren’t government issued, or related to any other organizations he knew about.
A quick check of his safe, and all the drawers in his desk showed nothing was missing. But that didn't mean something hadn't been added. Fuck. He was going to have to spend the night digging through all of his files.
Booting up his computer, Bucky looked for spyware. Finding none, he searched for Deven Ellsworth the Second and anything concerning a lawsuit.
One of the first stories to pop up was about homes in Brooklyn being foreclosed on.
Bucky clicked through the article. It came from a reliable source. The author was someone he'd done a few interviews with.
The details fit what he'd been told. A minor mold issue turned into a condemnation. The family, named Delaney, were now fighting to keep their home.
The more he searched, the more he found. A small crack in the foundation. A leaky pipe. The list went on.
A short knock and his office door opened. Valentina smiled as she claimed the seat before his desk. She adjusted her light blue suit, and made sure the flag pin on her lapel was upright.
Bucky tucked the papers away and closed his computer screen.
“What do you want?”
“You've been avoiding my calls.” She leaned forward and turned the little Captain America shield penholder around. It had been a gift from Sam that he refused to get rid of. He moved it out of her reach.
“I've been busy with things that don't concern you.” Bucky leaned back and crossed his arms.
“You're the leader of the New Avengers,” she said. “You can't be seen as slacking off. Have you seen the news lately?”
Bucky grimaced. He couldn't get away from it. His comments from the House floor a few days ago were on a constant rotation.
Headlines like “Leader of the Below Averagers Turns His Back on the Military,” “Wary Democratic Party Denies Working with Barnes,” and “Congressman Barnes: Traitor or New Progressive Hero?” blasted across news outlets.
Several reporters had even cornered Sam for comments. His answers had been vague at best, and a quick “no comment” at worst.
Bucky just wanted to do his job. Why was everyone making it harder?
“You don't care about the headlines.”
Valentina’s grin was sharp. “You're right. Watching you flounder is rewarding enough.”
“Get to the point.”
“Wilson has escalated his lawsuit,” she said. “He's filed for discovery. If the judge allows it, that means everything related to the New Avengers brand will have to be handed over.”
Bucky glanced towards the ceiling. Maybe if he prayed hard enough it would crash down onto both of them. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Captain Wilson isn't on our side.” Valentina stood. “You need to be more aggressive. He wants to take away everything you've worked for. Think of the team.”
“I am thinking of the team,” Bucky snapped. “You're the one trying to get me fired.”
Valentina chuckled and brushed her hair from her eyes. “Congressman Barnes, if you keep doing what you're doing, I won't have to lift a finger. President McGuire will do it for me.”
Bucky planted his hands on the desk and leaned forward. His voice dropped and the promise of violence wove into his words.
“Stay away from them.”
The office door slammed open and Bucky's patience exploded into dust. His eyes narrowed and the servos in his left arm hummed as he clenched his fist. Valentina had the brains to back away.
The couple in the doorway did not. The tall black man barreled into the conversation like Bucky wasn't wearing his murder face. The blonde woman with him sniffed at the vase of flowers by his door and wrinkled her nose
“Hey, we have an appointment to see…” the man trailed off and looked up from his phone. “Um…babe I think we're in the wrong office.”
The woman draped herself over her partner and smacked her gum. Her loud, vibrant pink dress clashed with her partner’s teal tracksuit.
“Are you sure?” she asked, sounding vaguely Eastern European.
Valentina scoffed and picked up her purse. “Think about what I said.”
She skirted around the couple and left. The blonde woman watched Valentina like she was a sentient pile of shit.
Normally, Bucky could back such thoughts. Today, he wanted these people gone.
“I can assure you that this is the wrong office.”
The man nodded faster than a rattled bobblehead. The gaudy gold chain around his neck swung like a pendulum.
“Babe, we need to go.”
“But we have appointment!” He took her hand and practically sprinted out the door. Bucky made sure to lock it behind them.
He was just about to go back to his desk when their conversation reached his ears.
“I don't like her,” the woman said, accent disappearing. “She's trying to hurt them.”
It was the woman he'd heard from the comms. Parker.
“We know, but that's not why we're here.”
Bucky pressed his ear against the door.
“But he needs our help,” she said as they walked away. “She wants to turn them into her weapons!"
“Valentina is next on our list, but we have to help the Delaney's first.”
Bucky stepped back as their conversation faded.
What the fuck was going on?
Chapter 7
Notes:
Okay, so I just spent the last two days setting up a classroom, and sitting through meetings that could have been emails.
I needed to do something fun, so have an update!
Things are starting to go downhill for our lovely characters.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The cafe Vance chose was small and tucked near a park. A shaded patio offered customers a lovely view of the Capitol Building in the distance.
Visitors lounged in the grass, and a few locals jogged by. A slight breeze broke through the summer heat, and people were happy to enjoy the day.
“I'm here,” Eliot said.
“Okay,” Hardison said. “We're setting up our fake magazine offices.”
“Sophie is insisting on a delicate, county decor.” Breanna's annoyance carried over the distance.
“Have fun.” Eliot ignored the snarky insults.
A pretty hostess pointed Eliot in the right direction.
Vance’s table was in a quieter part of the restaurant. Two beers resting in front of him. He smiled as Eliot approached.
“It's been awhile,” he said.
“It has,” Eliot said, taking the other seat. “How'd your meeting go?”
Vance grumbled. “My meeting got rescheduled. Barnes and his group had to help Captain Wilson with military transport security. ”
“You don't seem to be fond of the idea.” Eliot fiddled with his glass.
“I don't like wasting tax payers dollars on superheroes.”
“If they didn't do the work, who would?” Eliot took a slow drink of the beer. The bitter taste coated his tongue and he sat it down.
“Our boys and girls in uniform can do the job.”
“Congressman Barnes and Sam know what they're doing.” Eliot took another drink, and then pushed the glass away. Hardison's first crack at brewing beer was better. “They were military after all.”
“Yeah, well Barne can't keep coasting on his WWII vet status.” Vance pushed his own glass away. “Hey, have you spoken to Captain Wilson lately?”
Eliot sighed and ignored the familiar tinge of guilt. “Not since that thing we took care of in 2020.”
Vance nodded. “I never liked that guy.”
“Vance.”
Vance held up his hands. “I get it. I'll drop the subject.”
Eliot gave a strained smile. “Thanks. But hey, you at least get to enjoy your retirement.”
They were both older, though Vance had settled into his congressional seat. His hair was grayer, a little thinner on top, and his suit size was a tad larger around the waist.
Eliot's own casual wear clashed with the fine tailoring of Vance’s suit.
Vance laughed. “I actually miss the old days. Now I'm stuck with bureaucracy and fundraising galas. You, though, still look like you could take half the young soldiers at the Capitol.”
Eliot chuckled. “I still keep my hand in.”
“I know you were the ones who brought down Silver Guard and RIZ.”
“Yeah, things got pretty hot after those jobs. It hasn't quite cooled down yet.”
“They were big players in the Intelligence Community,” Vance said. “Our government had several contracts with them.”
Eliot raised an eyebrow. His fingers curled into a fist. “Kurlander tried to kill Paul.”
“Did he really?” Vance asked. “The Austin I knew understood the job.”
“He also admitted to stolen valor.” Eliot growled. “Tell me what the job is before I decide to leave.”
Vance slid a folder across the table. “Ellsworth is trying to gain further favor with the government. He's the one who helped Valentina buy the old Stark Tower.”
Eliot opened the file and frowned. Documents showed bank transfers between different accounts. The accounts appeared to be linked to different shell companies.
“They're moving money around. Why?”
“We think she's trying to restart her OXE experiments,” Vance asked.
Eliot flipped the page. “We knew she hadn't really stepped down.”
“Since Ellsworth is in real estate development,” Vance said, “he can help her ‘buy’ and ‘sell’ property to cover up where she does her business.”
“We have her on our list, but there are too many eyes on her right now.” Eliot rubbed his forehead. A headache pressed in behind his eyes. “She's been trying to get Barnes replaced as leader of the New Avengers.”
“So far, President McGuire is putting his trust in Barnes, but public opinion is turning.” Vance leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You could stop her, if you let me help you.”
Eliot looked up. “What was that?”
A slight prick pinched his upper thigh. Warmth spread through his body. His thoughts became mired in sludge and the world blurred around the edges.
He shook his head and sat back. He tried to stand but nothing worked right.
“What’s going on?” Eliot slurred. Worried voices slipped into fog, and his eyes drooped.
Eliot blinked and Vance helped him up. Any worried looks were waved away as, “poor guy got dumped and had one too many. You know how it is.”
He dragged Eliot towards a dark sedan and opened the back door.
Eliot tipped forward and sprawled along the back seat. His face pressed into the seat, and the fabric irritated his cheek. Vance arranged his limbs and closed the door.
Eliot tried to sit up again, but the world tilted and suddenly the door by his head opened.
A shadow darkened his view. Eliot's arms were tugged behind his back, and heavy cuffs clicked around his wrist. A folded piece of cloth was pressed between his teeth and tied tight enough to hurt.
Vance brushed Eliot's hair aside and pulled out his earbud. That was crushed under his shoe.
“There,” Vance said, patting his head. “Rest up, it's going to be a long drive.”
Eliot woke up to a massive headache and the rolling of tires. His arms hurt, and he couldn't feel his fingers. His legs were at an odd angle and one foot had gone to sleep.
He turned his head and squinted into the darkness. He could just make out Vance's profile in the dim lights of the dashboard.
The gag pressed against his tongue and dried out his mouth. His face felt gritty and pain shot through his shoulders with each bounce of the car.
The car jerked as it hit a pothole, and Eliot groaned. He shifted and rolled on his back.
“I was wondering when you'd wake up,” Vance said. Eliot’s glare promised a painful retribution.
“We're almost there,” he said. “Sorry for the rough transportation. It’s nothing personal.”
Eliot grunted and closed his eyes. He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position and let his head rest against the seat. His right foot began tingling but his fingers stayed numb.
Silence descended as Eliot worked on regaining his bearings. Judging by the scenery, they were outside the city. Nothing but trees lined the two lane road. A speed limit sign read 45 MPH. Just beyond that, he spotted mile marker 120.
Eliot's stomach dropped. He'd met Vance later in the afternoon. The clock in the car said 8:50 p.m. They'd been driving roughly five hours.
His breathing picked up, and his heart raced. Sweat prickled along his forehead and irritated the skin of his wrists. He tugged once at the cuffs and felt no give.
“You're not going to try something are you?” Vance asked.
Eliot turned his head. The trees thin out into fields, and silvery moonlight chased away shadows.
“Good, because we're here,” he said. He drove up to a security gate, and canned his ID card.
The gate rolled open and Vance guided the car down the driveway.
A massive military style base spread out before them.
It was at least two stories. Training grounds were lit up to the right and stretched out behind the building. A large parking lot allowed for hundreds of vehicles.
They drove by the front entrance to an authorized personnel only side entrance. A group of people in scrubs and military gear stood waiting.
“Don't worry,” Vance said as he pulled up. “If all goes well, you'll only be here for a couple of weeks. After that, you'll be busy helping keep our country safe.”
Eliot let out a muffled curse and kicked the back of Vance’s seat. The car lurched before he stopped.
“Was that necessary?” he asked.
He put the car in park and climbed out. People stepped up to the side, and Vance opened the back door.
Vance blocked his next kick and grabbed his legs. A hard pull ended with Eliot dragged out of the car on his back.
He scraped along the edge of the car and landed with a hard thud on the ground. A soft pop sounded as his index finger caught on the car and shifted out of joint.
Eliot struggled but the hands were too strong, and the drug was not completely out of his system.
A guard stepped up and grabbed his arms. Vance helped lift him and he was placed on a stretcher. Then Vance reached under him and popped Eliot's finger back into its socket. The gag muffled his curse and he tried to kick out again.
A guard caught his leg and forced it down. Another one strapped him down and Vance backed away.
“Take him to the processing room,” he said. “I've got to meet with the boss.”
They nodded and took him inside.
Harsh lights burned his eyes and he turned his head. The rough straps kept him locked on the gurney and his hands dug into his lower back.
The whole place smelled like disinfectant and stale coffee.
They passed multiple rooms. Some were set up like classrooms, and others were people's offices. They turned a corner and medical equipment began filling the space.
People in scrubs and camo walked by. No one looked his way.
The processing room was set up like an examination room.
They rolled the stretcher to one side, and left. Eliot was alone.
There was nothing he could reach, and when he tried to shift his arms the metal cuffs bit into his wrist.
A few minutes later, the door opened and a person in scrubs walked in. They wore a mask and surgical cap and all he could make out was a slim build, pale skin, and green eyes.
They washed their hands, pulled on gloves, and began checking his vitals.
They didn't say a word to him, and worked like he was just a manikin they were practicing on.
A quick jab and they used a portable blood analyzer to test his blood.
They were marking down the results when the door opened again.
A stocky man in a lab coat and mask stepped in. He had thinning dark hair, and a small scar next to his left ear. He also wore a mask.
“How is the subject?” His voice was deep, his words sharp. The assistant stood at parade rest when addressing him.
“Everything came back normal, sir.”
“Good,” he said. “We've got a tight schedule, so we'll start the procedure now. Bring the subject to surgical room seven.”
“Will do, Doctor.”
The trip was brief, the room being just behind two massive double doors marked ‘medical personnel only’.
The people in the room all wore mask, and scrubs. Surgical caps covered their heads, and gloves hid hands.
The place smelled of antiseptic and cleaning agents, and a bright surgical light hung overhead.
The doctor walked in, hair covered now and a chart in his hands. Eliot spotted the tan line on his ring finger.
“Is the procedure ready?”
“Yes, Doctor,” one assistant said.
“Hook the subject up, and start phase one.” He made a few notes and handed the chart to a different assistant. He walked over and grabbed Eliot's face and shone a light in his eyes. He then used his stethoscope to listen to Eliot's heart and lungs.
“Once you've started, switch to the leather cuffs, but leave the gag,” he said. “It’s crude, but phase one causes muscle contractions and seizures. We don't want the subject to bite its tongue off.”
“Of course.”
One assistant reached under and undid the cuffs before jerking his arms to his side. Leather medical restraints were wrapped around his wrist and ankles. The strap around his chest was adjusted slightly to allow access to his arms.
A pulse oximeter was stuck to one finger, and a blood pressure monitor was wrapped around his left arm.
A quick swab and an IV was inserted.
“Starting the procedure now.” The assistant punched in some numbers on the infusion pump, and a clear, light blue liquid flowed through the tube and into his vein.
His body seized, and his muscles cramped. His veins burned as the liquid pushed further into his blood. Eliot jerked and something ripped in his back. He couldn't breathe.
A scream locked in his throat, and blackness claimed his world.
Vance knocked on the door and stepped inside. A large desk took up most of the room and bookshelves lined the side walls. A man with blonde hair and broad shoulders watched different monitors. There was satellite data, and weather reports. One showed a report on the ongoing tensions between Captain America and the New Avengers. The chyron read, “Court Date set in Captain Wilson's Lawsuit”.
Vance smiled and settled into the chair across from the desk. “I've got good news, Mr. Conrad.”
He turned away from the monitors and leaned forward, arms resting on the desk.
“What is it?”
“I found us the perfect subject.”
“Oh?” he said.
“Eliot Spencer.”
Mr. Conrad sat back, eyes wide. “How did you manage that?”
“We've worked together in the past,” Vance said. “All I had to do was separate him from his team.”
“That's good, but how are we going to keep his team away from us?”
Vance smirked. “I'll just drop some hints to Valentina about Barnes hiring someone to dig up dirt on Ellsworth.”
Mr. Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure it will work? Spencer’s team is pretty tenacious.”
“Valentina is chomping at the bit to get Barnes removed as the New Avengers leader,” Vance said. “We just need to get her to start digging. If we do it right, she'll find information connecting Barnes to Spencer’s group, and she'll run with it.”
“What of Spencer? He is older than our other volunteers.” Mr. Conrad tapped his fingers.
“He'll surprise you.” Vance leaned back in his chair. “I watched him walk off after getting shot twice.”
“He terrified my guy during that PTSD study.” Mr. Conrad chuckled. “Are you sure he's not already enhanced?”
“Nah. He's just a stubborn bastard.”
“But will he work for us?”
“Are we really giving him a choice? He can either help freely or from a cell.”
Mr. Conrad brought his computer online. “If this works we'll be able to replicate it in others.”
“That's the plan,” Vance said. “We're giving the new serum to him in stages. This way, he'll have time to recover before the next injection.”
“I like your thinking.” Mr. Conrad clicked through several screens before turning the monitor to face Vance. “I'd hate to waste money on a project that's bound to fail.”
“I told the doctors to keep detailed notes and monitor his vitals in case anything goes wrong.” He glanced at his watch. “They should be starting now.”
“Good. We've already got our first assignment. I received Intel that a Zanzibar Marketplace is going to crop up in Sokovia within the next two weeks.”
“What was stolen?” Vance leaned forward to read the screen.
“Remember RIZ?” Mr. Conrad said.
“They created malware that could shut down multiple power grids.” Mr. Conrad turned his screen around. It showed a new report about an offshore oil rig that had blown up.
“The code has been updated,” Mr. Conrad said. “It's more efficient and harder to trace. The new program was stolen from OXE while Valentina was attempting to clean up her mess.”
“It's interesting that the thieves waited so long,” Vance said.
“This program was tied into her Sentry project. We think they kept it off the grid to let most of the heat die down.” Mr. Conrad brought up another screen. It showed different Intelligence reports. “We’ve heard chatter that the thieves are ready to sell. I'll give you one guess why.”
Vance scowled and curled his hand into a fist. His jaw clenched and his words came out in a growl. “Barnes and Wilson feud.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Conrad said. “They think we'll be ill-prepared with both of them fighting.”
“We wouldn't be in this mess if the old SHIELD hadn't paraded the original Avengers around like they were the solution to all our problems.”
Mr. Conrad sighed. “You're not wrong, but we need something more reliable to replace them with. Threats have changed. We need to adapt.”
“Spencer will be ready in time,” Vance said as he stood up. “Then we can stop relying on so-called superheroes for our national security.”
Notes:
Mr. Conrad is apparently the name of the main CIA guy in the original Leverage's season four episode, "The Experimental Job".
RIZ was a private military company from Leverage: Redemption season one. Silver Guard was also a PMC. It was from Leverage: Redemption season two. They appeared in the episode "A Walk in the Woods Job".
Chapter Text
Eliot woke up sore and laying on a rough cot. The gag sat in his mouth and his throat burned.
Bruises covered his arms and an IV port was still taped to the back of his hand. He sat up slowly. Muscles spasmed in his back.
His breath caught and pain spiked through his chest. Jaw clenched, he focused on breathing as he waited for the pain to subside.
He carefully picked at the tape and slid the port out. A small dot of blood pooled on bruised skin.
The cell was bare save a wall mounted metal sink and toilet. A camera blinked at him from one corner. The door was made of steel and had what looked like a speakeasy window.
Fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed overhead. Tension in his jaw tucked up, and his neck became stiff.
His clothes had been switched to scrubs and his feet were bare. The fabric scraped against irritated skin, and lank hair fell into his eyes. He shivered and leaned against the wall.
There was no pillow or blanket, and every twitch of his body hurt.
He carefully pulled the gag out and relaxed his jaw. The taste of old blood filled his mouth, and a sour film coated his tongue. He balled the soggy fabric around the IV port and threw them into the corner. They landed with a soft thump.
Climbing to weak feet, he tottered over to the sink. Shaking hands gripped the sides. A pulse pounded in his skull. The world swayed beneath his feet, and the edges of his vision grayed.
He turned the tap on. Clear water spilled out. Eliot leaned against the sink, and let it run over his hands. Cold water raised goosebumps. Sweat washed away, and he scrubbed his hands.
Leaning forward, Eliot took shallow sips. His stomach rolled and he paused to let the feeling pass before taking one last drink.
Cupping his hands, he scrubbed the sweat from his face. It chased the heat from his skin.
Eliot dried his hands on his shirt, stumbled back to the cot. The slide on the small window opened. Vance’s face stared back at him.
“I'm going to kill you for this,” Eliot said, voice rough like he'd screamed his very soul out.
Vance smiled. “You'll thank me for this eventually. If this works, you will be this country's greatest asset.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“The world has changed since we wore the uniform. Aliens have routinely attacked, robots have gone rogue. It's like every sci-fi apocalypse has tried to take us out. We need to meet these challenges head on.”
Eliot coughed and grimaced. A few ribs might be broken. Cold walls pressed into his injured back, and the rough canvas cot scratched his skin.
“The New Avengers and Captain Wilson have it handled.”
“Really?” Vance asked. “Because I remember the original group failing and half the world getting blipped.”
“And you think the military could have stopped Thanos?” Eliot rolled his eyes. Pain shot through his temple and he pressed a hand to his forehead.
“We could have stopped it before it got that far.”
“Get real, Vance. You're outclassed. Things like that need people like Captain America and the Avengers.”
“No, they need a revived US military meeting it with advanced skills and firepower.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with this?” Eliot held up his arms. Heat burned through his veins and his hands clinched. Faint tremors ran through his arms. His heart raced. Torn skin circled his wrist. Purple masses dotted his skin. There was blood under his nails.
Vance slammed his hand against the door. The bang echoed, causing Eliot’s headache to spike and his jaw to clench.
“You are being given a gift that will save this world.”
“I didn't ask for this!” Eliot's voice cracked and shattered to dust, the words nothing more than a whisper of pain.
“I'm doing you a favor!” Vance stepped back and lowered his voice. “I am doing this for the good of our country. You'd do well to remember the oath you took.”
The small window slammed shut and Eliot sank down onto the cot. He was too tired for anger, too tired to feel the betrayal he knew lurked inside. He'd been in situations like this before. Worse than this because there had been no team waiting for his return. This time he had people, and they were tearing the world apart looking for him. All he had to do was survive long enough for them to find him.
“Trouble already?” Mr. Conrad met Vance at the end of the hall. Soldiers and medical staff moved around them. Fluorescent lights hummed and shoes squeaked over tiles. A phone rang in an office, and machines beeped. A few muffled voices came from down the hall.
Vance took a deep breath and shifted to allow people to pass. This was a tough assignment. He’d know this, but it was important. So much had gone wrong with the world. SHIELD had held up the Avengers as their mighty protectors. A beacon of hope. Then they’d fallen apart. Thanos had come, and half the world disappeared.
When everyone had returned, more disaster struck. Sam Wilson set himself up as Captain America. Bucky Barnes was leader of the New Avengers. It was a mistake. Vance planned on fixing it.
“He’ll understand eventually,” Vance said, pushing the stress aside. He had a mission to complete. Eliot would either forgive him or not. Keeping the world safe was more important.
“I was asking about you,” Mr. Conrad said, voice holding a hint of reproach. “I wouldn’t want you to have divided loyalties.”
“I know what’s at stake,” Vance said. He handed a file over. “The doctors have already noted an improvement in his healing.”
“Good.” Mr. Conrad took it and scanned the pages. “When’s the next round of treatments scheduled?”
Mr. Conrad closed the file and started down the hall. Vance fell in step beside him.
Staff made sure to move out of their path. A few soldiers saluted in greeting.
“We've scheduled it for two days from now,” Vance said. “There's another Congressional hearing scheduled for tomorrow. I have to attend, but I want to oversee this whole process. It will help when I present our findings to the Select Committee.”
“How are we on the extra funding?”
A frustrated growl carried Vance’s words. “Barnes and the other Democrats are causing problems. Public opinion is tanking and the Senate might draft their own bill.”
“He's becoming a bit of a thorn.” Mr. Conrad grew quiet. “He'll have to be dealt with.”
“I've already got Valentina poking into his business, and I've expressed my concerns to President McGuire over his ability to handle such a large workload.”
Vance smirked. “Captain Wilson is doing half the work for us though. His lawsuit has really caused Barnes' poll numbers to drop. The public is also divided over who should be leading the Avengers.”
“Let's hope it stays that way.” They reached Mr. Conrad’s office. “I want to be kept updated on all progress.”
“Will do,” Vance said. He turned to leave.
“And Vance,” Mr. Conrad said.
Vance turned back and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, sir?”
He stood in the doorway. His posture straight and his suit perfectly tailored. A Dustman’s pin held a prominent spot on his lapel.
“Keep up the good work and there might be a promotion in your future.”
Notes:
Mr. Conrad was in the original Leverage's season four episode The Experimental Job.
Chapter 9
Notes:
I got the numbers at the beginning of the chapter from Google. If you are a math person, and they are wrong, let me know. I'll change them.
Math and I aren't friend.
Chapter Text
Two days. Eliot had been missing for two days. 48 hours. 2,880 minutes and roughly 172,800 seconds. Not that Parker was counting. She wasn't. That would be useless. Counting wouldn't help find Eliot. Stabbing Vance would only delay finding Eliot.
First they had to find Eliot. Then she'd stab Vance.
Sophie pushed through the door and dropped her bag. She tore off the wide brimmed hat and sagged onto the couch.
“That man is a creep,” she said. “I swear he keeps trying to sniff my hair.”
“He's got really big teeth too. It's weird,” Breanna added, not looking up from her computer.
“Anything new?” Sophie asked. She grabbed a bottle of water off the table and took a long drink.
“I've got nothing new so far,” Hardison said. “We know they left the cafe and headed west. I lost them once they left the city limits.”
“They might be somewhere in West Virginia,” Breanna said. “ We got bots going through different camera feeds to see if we can spot Vance's car, but it's like finding a needle in a forest.”
“We need something.” Sophie wiped her eyes. “So far we're just spinning our wheels.”
Parker looked up from her favorite lock. She clicked it open. A wall of empty orange soda bottles and bags of gummy frogs surrounded Hardison.
Breanna was covered with a blanket, her movements jittery from too much caffeine.
The whole condo was an explosion of papers, takeout, and bits and pieces of gear. Parker had half a plan written on the living room wall. Sophie’s wings and dresses hid the dining room table, and Harry had most of a law office on the kitchen island.
Eliot would be appalled if he were here. He'd insist on real food, and force them all away from their tasks. But he wasn't here, and Parker could only hold herself together.
“Hardison is going over,” Parker paused. “I don't know…”
“I'm digging through the different government systems. I've got the FBI, the NSA, the CIA, and the DIA–who are doing some hinky shit in Madripoor by the way,” Hardison said. “Vance planned this. This is way too put together to be by chance.”
“Harry is on his way to Congressman Barnes’ office.” Breanna looked up from her own screens. Her eyes were tinged red. “Harry’s still hoping to get his help with the Delaney's lawsuit.”
“That's nice, but it doesn't help Eliot.” Parker snapped the lock shut.
“The Delaney’s are still counting on us,” Sophie asked.
“I don't care,” Parker said. “We're saving Eliot and shoving Vance into a cell so deep no one will ever find him.”
“Parker…” Sophie’s voice cracked.
Parker took a deep breath and pushed everything down. Her fingers dug into the lock and she counted the familiar ridges on its surface.
“We need Eliot,” she said.
“And we'll find him.” Sophie stood and put her hands on Parker’s shoulders. “We just need to be patient. There has to be a connection between Vance and Ellsworth we missed. We'll find it, and we'll save Eliot.”
Parker nodded. “I know.” The lock clicked open.
“So far, the only connection I can find is that Ellsworth was awarded those military contracts.” Breanna searched through a few more sites, showing old articles and pictures of the two together.
“I haven't found a location of the first base, but I got some bots and some of the other Leverage crews looking for it,” Hardison said. He finished off a bottle of orange soda and added it to the wall.
Parker clicked the lock shut. “We need to call HIM in.”
“We can't.” Hardison turned away from his screen. Bags hung under his eyes, and his fingers twitched from too much sugar. “He’s supposedly off on a top secret mission no one outside of the government is supposed to know about.”
“Do it anyway,” Parker said.
“Who are we talking about?” Sophie said.
Parker’s gaze focused on the wall. Plans spun through her head, each discarded and torn apart to fit into something new, something better. Something that would save Eliot. But Eliot’s voice only got that growly when talking about his past.
That meant they stopped digging. They usually respected each other's boundaries, but this was an emergency. She wanted Eliot back.
“Sam Wilson,” Parker said. Breanna and Sophie both stared, wide eyed. “You heard Eliot. They were close once.”
“And from what Eliot hinted at, it ended badly.” Hardison opened another bag of gummy frogs.
Sophie snatched the bag away and replaced it with a Chinese takeout box from the fridge. “What about Quinn?”
Hardison picked up a fork and started eating.
“He's helping the Paris team with a time sensitive case,” Breanna said. “He's put out some feelers and said once he's done he'll head here.”
“So, we wait for Quinn.”
“We can’t,” Parker said. “It's Eliot. There's no telling what they're doing to him. We need Sam Wilson. He's Captain America. This is what he does!”
“We’re criminals. Captain Wilson might not even want to help,” Breanna said.
Hardison shook his head. “I’m sure he'd help because it's the right thing to do. He'd also probably arrest us all afterwards.”
“I’m about to speak with Congressman Barnes,” Harry said. “I vote for calling in Captain Wilson. This Quinn guy can break everyone out of jail later.”
“See!” Parker waved her hand. “Even Harry agrees.”
“Okay,” Hardison said. “I'll send a message, but we need a plan if this doesn't work.”
“I’ll think of something.” The lock clicked open.
Chapter Text
“I understand,” Bucky said. He wove through the crowded halls, bag held in front. Everything was hectic, and Bucky's schedule only had so much space for him to think. “But, for fucks sake, you were in the military.”
“This is different,” John grumbled.
Congress was gearing up for a vote tomorrow, and the GOP was scrambling to find enough votes to pass their horrid bill. Some had even been desperate enough to approach Bucky. His resting murder face sent them running. That was the only highlight of his day.
His voice dropped to keep interested ears away from his conversation. The phone allowed him to speak on comms with his team without looking crazier than people assumed he was. He’d made that mistake once. The headlines had been brutal.
“John has been pouting since we got here,” Yelena said. “It's like he's never worked with shitty people before.”
“I'm just saying I have some concerns,” John said. Bucky could hear the rumble of military vehicles in the background.
“What concerns?”
Bucky ducked into a side hall to let a group of congressional staffers pass.
“This assignment is weird,” John said. “None of us know what's being transported, and we're getting asked about you stepping down.”
“I don't think they've told Captain Wilson what it is either,” Ava said. “I saw him arguing with the commanding officer this morning.”
“They haven't,” Yelena added. “He was complaining to his Baby Falcon and didn't know I could hear them.”
“The job should be over tomorrow,” Alexei said. “Captain Wilson is leaving today. He claims to have very important business to take care of. He’s leaving his Falcon and my Yelena in charge.”
“Fuck.” Bucky prayed for patience or for a meteor to smash into Valentina. He wasn't picky.
“I'm not quitting. Please just finish this assignment. I should be back in New York in a few weeks and we can always talk after the vote.”
“We know,” Alexei said. “Our Winter Soldier is the best leader, and is very loyal.”
“Congressman Barnes!” Harry jogged towards him. Bucky frowned. His suit needed an iron and his tie hung at an angle. Despite being early afternoon, dark circles sat under his eyes and Harry’s skin was pallid. “Can I have a moment of your time?”
“I've got to go. Stay safe.” Bucky pretended to hang up, and muted his comm. He paused at his office door and tilted his head. He didn't have time for any of this. Worry for his team crawled through his heart, and twisted his insides. They were offering security for a military transport operation. He'd been told that all relevant parties had the proper Intel. Since Sam was leading the job, Bucky had thought they'd told him.
Fuck. He needed a vacation from one job to figure out the other.
Bucky was tired.
“Make it fast.”
Harry didn’t flinch at his sharp tone and Bucky’s worry twined itself into a new shape. Almost everyone got uncomfortable when he was blunt.
“I was wondering if you'd decided to help with my clients’ case against Ellsworth.”
“I've got a few aides looking into things,” Bucky said. The aide being Bob, who was the only one Bucky trusted. Bob was brilliant at paperwork. He was getting him a raise when this mess was over.
“Ask about the training facilities.”
“We've been trying to figure out why they're pushing for these new military facilities. There are several in Brooklyn already.”
Bucky shifted and allowed others to pass by.
“I have been in the process of setting up a town hall,” Bucky said. “After this vote, we go on recess for four weeks.”
“That's good,” Harry said. “If you let me know when, I can arrange to have my clients meet with you there.”
“Well, this is certainly interesting.”
Bucky cursed and Harry's expression went dark. Valentina waltzed up to them. Her green suit screamed confidence. Her stride made people move from her path. She analyzed the scene as if it were a threat to her security. Mel sunk into her blue jacket and hung back, eyeing Bucky like he still wore the Winter Soldier gear.
His expression did something and she flinched. Valentina huffed like he was an impatient toddler.
“Who is this?”
To Bucky's surprise, Harry’s words were cold, biting, and venomous.
“Mark Williams, attorney.”
“Shit. What is she doing here?” A young woman's voice said. “Her schedule has her in New York!”
“And what business do you have with my team’s leader?”
“They’re not your team,” Bucky cut in.
Valentina smirked. “I just spoke to Congressman Vance. It would appear the tides are turning in my favor.”
“She’s working with Vance! She has to know where Eliot is!”
Parker. The blonde from the other day, and if Bucky remembered correctly, the thief from the gala.
“We don't know that. It could just be Vance covering his tracks,” the young woman said.
Bucky tensed and his hand curled into a fist.
“Aren't you supposed to be in New York?” Bucky asked. He glanced back at Mel. “I would have thought such a trustworthy assistant would keep a more accurate calendar.”
“Something came up, and I needed to talk to you about the lawsuit.” Valentina made a shooing motion towards Harry. “It’s private.”
“I'm busy,” Bucky snapped. Several people in the hall backed away and hurried around them.
“You're talking to him.”
“My business with Congressman Barnes is of no concern to you,” Harry said.
“It is my concern when you're talking to the leader of the team I put together.”
“From what I've seen, you should be more worried about possible OXE whistle blowers.”
“There are whistle blowers?” a young woman asked.
A man’s deep rage reached Bucky's ears. The voice sounded like it belonged to the man who'd come to his office with Parker. “There are now.”
The smile dropped from Valentina’s face. “There's nothing there. That sham of a trial proved it last year.”
“I've unleashed some bots on social media,” the young woman said.
“I've got a few news articles trending.”
“Good. I don't care if she helped take Eliot or not. Breanna, Hardison, burn her empire to the ground too.” Parker’s harsh snarl covered a hint of fear.
Something was very wrong and it had to do with a person named Eliot.
“With pleasure.” Breanna was the young woman. That meant Hardison was the guy he'd seen with Parker.
That left Eliot, who Bucky suspected was the Southerner he'd heard, and a British woman.
“That's not what the news has been saying.” Bucky smirked. He pulled up Twitter and found the topic already trending. These people were good. He turned the screen around. Val snatched up her own phone.
“I swear I've heard nothing about this!” Mel stuttered out. “I'll get on it right now.”
“Word of warning, Miss,” Harry said, directing his words towards Mel. “I used to work for people like her. There's always something.”
“Don't you have another disastrous PR stunt to plan?”
Valentina glared and walked off. Mel hurried behind her. “Careful Barnes. You're starting to sound like a politician.”
Bucky counted to thirty. His right hand shook and it was looking more likely he'd be spending time running around the National Mall.
The thieves’ worry bled into his own anxiety. He did not need this. President McGuire was being patient, but others were pushing to have him removed from his position.
His poll numbers were down, and some were speculating on whether he'd bother running for reelection.
If he was forced out, Valentina would rush in. He couldn't protect them if he lost his job.
He had been positive Valentina was behind every rumor. Maybe Vance was chumming the waters too.
“Are there really whistle blowers?” Bucky asked once he wasn't liable to punch something.
“Maybe.” Harry let out a slow breath and eased tense shoulders. “I wasn't lying about previously working for people like her. There's no loyalty in that world. It's all about who they can step on to get further up the ladder.”
“I remember the infighting in Hydra. Things would get messy."
“Sadly, that sounds like some of my old clients.”
Bucky eyed him for a few seconds. “What changed for you?”
“I realized by not taking a side, I’d ended up on the wrong side of the table.” He offered Bucky a tired smile. “I'm trying to make up for those mistakes now.”
Taking his sincerity into account, along with the conversations he'd heard, Bucky came to a decision.
He wasn't going to let Vance or Valentina win.
He held out his hand and Harry shook it. “I'll let you know when the town hall is.”
“Thank you.”
They parted ways after, Bucky listening to desperate words about a missing friend. He understood that pain.
Once his office door was closed, he grabbed a pad and pencil.
They'd originally come to stop Ellsworth from ruining more lives. Now, someone connected to Vance named Eliot was missing.
Bucky suspected he knew who Eliot was. He'd seen an old photo in Vance's office and had asked about it. It had shown Vance with a shorter, stocky man with long, dark hair and vibrant blue eyes. They'd been wearing fatigues and were standing in front of an Army tent.
Vance held a gun. The other man had a shoulder harness with knives.
He'd nearly swallowed his tongue when he'd heard the name.
Eliot Spencer sent lesser henchmen into panic mode and the more talented ones on vacation far away from wherever they thought he was.
Bucky could respect that. There were world leaders who wouldn't step foot in DC if he was in town. It didn't matter that he was his own man. He made the decisions now and that scared them even more.
The only problem was Bucky hadn't heard of any hits credited to Eliot in decades, but apparently he was still active.
Harry's team were positive Congressman Vance was behind his disappearance. The pain in their voices had Bucky believing it.
He frowned at his short list. He'd never liked Vance. He'd held up his military service like a shield. Vance talked in vague terms about the things he'd done, and how he hadn't needed a fancy title or serum to complete his missions.
Those snide comments had come before the whole fiasco in New York, and Bucky's elevation to New Avengers leader.
He rummaged through his files, and came up with the one he'd collected on Valentina.
It was painfully thin. He had the evidence Yelena had collected from the vault. He had a trail of money transfers to shady shell companies rumored to run illegal experiments on people, but no way to prove she was involved.
Congressman Vance had worked with her in the past. He'd seen the two talking together often enough. Vance was career military. He'd run several covert operations. He'd worked in the Intelligence Community for years. That meant it was possible Eliot had a connection to both.
What it was, he didn't know. Bucky's desk phone rang.
“Congressman Barnes, how can I help you?”
“Hey, Bucky,” Bob said. “I’m sorry to bother you. Um…I got confirmation for the town hall meeting. It's set up for two weeks from now. I marked your calendar, and just saw that your meeting with the Selection Committee got moved up to three.”
“Thanks, Bob.” Bucky sighed and stuffed his files into his desk. He grabbed the packet he needed for the meeting. It went into his bag. “How is everyone? Really.”
Bob was quiet for a few seconds. “They're okay,” he said. “They're just ready to get home.”
“Shit, I should be out there.”
“No,” Bob said. For once his words were firm, sure. They carried an authority Bob rarely let himself feel. “You're protecting them. That's important.”
“Thanks,” Bucky said. “I really would be lost without you.”
“I'm just glad I can help.”
He hung up, and locked his office door. He sent a brief text to Sam asking to meet up when he got back to DC. They had something important to discuss.
Bucky slid into the crowd headed to the Capitol Building and prepared to be ignored in the meeting he was being forced to attend.
Chapter Text
The day was clear, and birds chirped from trees. A few tourists ambled by, a few snippets of conversation reaching Bucky.
A group of women giggled as they speculated whether if they hung around the Capitol Building, they'd get a peek at Sam. The blush caused by their words stained Bucky's cheeks.
Bucky sat at the outdoor table. A cup of coffee rested before him, and a nice sized breakfast begged for his attention.
He'd ordered his usual: omelet, southern home fries, and four biscuits covered in sausage gravy.
Bucky and Sam both frequented the place enough that the owners made sure their visits stayed private.
This worked in Bucky's favor as Sam settled across from him.
He was dressed casually, ball cap low over his eyes, sunglasses on, and a worn T-shirt and jeans helping him blend in.
Bucky had dressed similarly, and made sure the arm was covered. It attracted more attention than he did.
“You look like shit,” Bucky said when Sam took his sunglasses off. His eyes were red, and the bags were so dark he might as well have had bruises.
Sam smiled briefly and thanked the waitress for his food and coffee.
Bucky had ordered him a more sensible fruit salad with an egg white omelette, bacon, and some toast. It was Sam's favorite.
Sam raised an eyebrow and drank his coffee. “Breakfast and coffee for lunch, Congressman Barnes. Is the world ending again?”
“Not that I know of,” Bucky said. He failed to keep his tone light. “I just knew you'd be tired.”
“You're not wrong there “ Sam started to eat. Bucky followed. This conversation wasn't going to be pleasant, and he wasn't about to let it cause good food to go to waste.
Once they'd eaten their fill, Sam sat back and regarded Bucky with a solemn look.
A soft breeze rustled nearby trees, and birds lifted into the air.
“You asked and I'm here,” he said.
Bucky finished his coffee. It did not help his nerves. “I'm still going after Valentina.”
“I know,” Sam said. “Torres looks forward to your weekly info dumps.”
A short laugh escaped. “Good.” Bucky traced his finger along the table. “What I haven't told you is recently, there's a group of criminals going after one of her associates.”
Sam sat up, narrowed his eyes, and lowered his voice. “What have you done?”
“I'm not working with them,” Bucky snapped. “But they have a sophisticated set up. They don't know I can hear them talking to each other over their comms.”
“You're letting this happen,” Sam said.
“They and I quote, “are only threats to bad guys.” Bucky fiddled with his cup. “I did some more eavesdropping, and it turns out they are trying to help people screwed over by that idiot Deven Ellsworth the Second.”
“Isn’t he that real estate guy who keeps popping up on TV?” Sam asked.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “He’s using trumped up code violations to force people out of their homes.”
“Okay, so he's slimy,” Sam said. “What does this have to do with Valentina?”
“I don't know yet.” Bucky held Sam’s gaze. “But Congressman Vance knows him too, and now one of their crew is missing.”
Sam frowned and sat back. “Why tell me this?”
Bucky pulled out a copy of his notes and passed it to Sam.
“I think it has something to do with these facilities Vance is pushing for.”
“I thought Congress already approved of these.”
“Vance claims he wants to help bring our military up to date.” Bucky let out a dark chuckle. “A few of my colleagues and I are wondering why they want to rush construction.”
Sam flipped open the file and scanned the flimsy evidence. It wasn't much, but Bucky's gut told him it was bad.
“Who's the missing guy?”
“I think his name is Eliot Spencer. He's…wait, Sam!”
Sam slammed the file closed and stood. He dropped several bills onto the table and started marching towards his truck.
Bucky’s quick reflexes gave him enough time to add his share to the bill, and catch up with Sam.
Several curious eyes followed their path, and Bucky swore.
“Whoa.” Bucky's grip ground them to a halt. He angled them to hide their faces. If this whole case hadn't been so important, Sam’s look would have had him backing up.
“What's going on?” He could feel the faint tremors in Sam's arm. “Whatever it is, you know I'll help.”
Sam just jerked his arm free and climbed into his truck. Bucky followed and scowled, daring Sam to try and get him to leave.
Sam jammed a finger into the ignition button and the truck rumbled to life. “Even if I murder Vance?”
Bucky purposely put on his seatbelt. “I'll hold him down for you, then break us both out of prison.”
“I'm not joking,” Sam hissed.
“Neither am I.”
They stayed like that for a few seconds before Sam sagged and seemingly aged ten years before Bucky’s eyes.
“Are you sure that's who is missing?” Sam asked, a tremor in his voice.
“I heard a guy named Eliot met with Vance before he disappeared. Vance served with a guy named Eliot Spencer. He told me this when I saw a photo of them together in his office.”
“I know an Eliot Spencer.” Sam glanced around and lowered his voice further. “I got a message from an unknown email account a few days ago telling me, ‘Eliot needed the cavalry.’ It's close to something he’s known to say.”
“That was why you were already on your way back.” Bucky grew thoughtful. “How well do you know him?”
Sam's eyes grew distant and a film of tears grew but didn't fall. “He’s my cousin. We got into it years ago about the things he was doing for the Army. For all I know, he's still that guy.”
“What if he's not?” Bucky asked, voice soft. “There hasn't been a hit credited to him in decades.”
“How would you know?” Sam asked, a desperate note hiding under the rage.
“I keep my ear to the ground, so to speak.”
The gentle growl from the engine filled the cab, and the low, sensual serenade of a Marvin Gaye drifted from the speakers.
Sam drew in a deep breath. “It doesn't matter. I can't leave him there. I won't.”
Bucky gestured towards the road. “Where do we start?”
Chapter Text
Eliot lost count of the days. The lights were on and off for an equal number of hours. He saw no windows or clocks. All personnel he interacted with wore masks and scrubs.
He'd tried counting based on when food arrived, but often it showed up when he was unconscious.
It never changed either. A bowl of bland oatmeal, toast, and an orange with a bottle of water. He’d tried keeping the oranges for later, but they always disappeared after they dragged him to his next session.
Eliot didn't know what these treatments were for. None had affected his strength, but he'd noticed small changes. His senses were sharper and he healed faster.
From the brief snippets he'd heard, they were trying for something with the brain instead of brawn.
The lock to his door opened and two people walked in. A third wheeled a stretcher to the doorway and waited.
“Get on the gurney.”
Eliot glared, before moving slowly to the doorway. His legs wobbled and muscles cramped. He kept his breathing steady, and pushed the pain aside. Jaw clenched, he tottered to the gurney. A hand shoved him forward.
Locking a growl in his throat, Eliot laid on the stretcher. They grabbed his arms and cuffed his hands to his sides. They moved quickly to cuff his ankles. The chest and leg straps were added last.
The gurney was rolled down familiar hallways and into surgical room seven.
The doctor was already there. This time with a bag of clear, pale, yellow liquid.
A rubber gag was forced between his teeth and secured behind his head. An assistant hooked up an IV along with a heart monitor.
The doctor wrote notes in the chart and passed it to another assistant. He punched some commands into the infusion pump, and began lining up several syringes.
“This is the last of phase three,” he said. “If the subject survives, we'll be able to start phase four.”
One assistant paused, glancing at Eliot before addressing the doctor.
“We've never done phase four,” they said. “What is it?”
The doctor shrugged. “Like I said, if the subject survives, you'll find out.”
The liquid soon began moving through the IV.
His heart rate rose, the machine next to him beeped rapidly. Everyone ignored it.
Eliot tugged at the cuffs but nothing moved. His breathing became shallow and his vision swam. Sweat broke out on his skin. Tremors skittered up his arms.
He was panicking and couldn't stop. Time slowed to a crawl as the liquid entered his body. A minute dragged by. His hand burned. Heat crept up his arms from the IV port, and inched across his body.
His mouth went dry. Another minute passed. The world exploded in flashes of light, images, and pain.
Noise rattled through his thoughts, as the universe tangled together and spun a part.
Reality warped and he saw Sam flying through the sky, shield on his back. The vision twisted and Harry was walking through the streets of DC. Another twist, and Parker was checking her gear.
He blinked and the overhead lights came into focus. He tried to breathe, to focus his thoughts like he'd been trained to. It all spiraled away, and he got lost in images and hallucinations that were so sharp they could have been real.
Vance watched the procedure through the one-way mirror. One assistant kept careful track of Eliot's vitals while another adjusted the flow of the serum.
Eliot's body jerked. His jaw clenched around the gag and muscles stood out on the sides of his neck.
Vance followed as his eyes focused on things not in the room, then unfocused as he slipped under the drugs again.
“How is everything going?” Mr. Conrad asked as he came to stand next to Vance.
“So far, all tests show the serum has integrated with his DNA. Though, we won't know how successful we've been until later.”
Mr. Conrad nodded. “Is there any way we can move up the training?”
Vance turned and frowned. “Why? Did something happen?”
“Captain Wilson is back in the states,” Mr. Conrad said. “One of my informants told me he met with Congressman Barnes earlier today.”
“I thought he was moving forward with that lawsuit.”
“He is. The courts have moved to the discovery phase.” Mr. Conrad watched the next infusion cause Eliot to seize. The doctor administered an injection. His vitals stabilized. “This was in response to a personal call from Barnes.”
“Fuck. Do we know what he wanted?” Vance cursed and rubbed his face. Why couldn't Bucky Barnes have stayed in the history books?
“No, but I don't want to take any chances. You need to get them both out of the way.”
“I already pretended to bump into Valentina. I mentioned I saw a known con artist speaking with Ellsworth.”
“And she took the bait?”
“Valentina is eager for anything that will get her into the president's good graces.”
“Have you looked deeper into her OXE activities?”
“I've got people going through suspected OXE sites. The moment we find something solid, we'll take her down too.”
Vance watched as Eliot relaxed and his eyes slipped shut. The treatment would take another couple of hours to finish, but it looked like the worst was over. Vance breathed a sigh of relief. This was going to work.
“There's a lot of interest in RIZ’s old worm.” Mr. Conrad tapped the glass. “He needs to be ready soon.”
“I'll speak to the doctor about moving up the training schedule.” Vance made a note in his phone.
“Keep upping the pressure on President McGuire,” Mr. Conrad said. “He'll have to cave eventually. Barnes' poll numbers are at historic lows.”
“I know,” Vance said. “The old bastard is even thinking of doing a town hall. Those are always good for a few embarrassing viral clips.”
Mr. Conrad turned thoughtful. “Try and find out when it is.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Conrad turned to go. “And keep fanning the rumors of his incompetence. Barnes is bound to slip up soon.”
Tayefeth on Chapter 1 Sun 06 Jul 2025 04:54AM UTC
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BoredTeacher on Chapter 1 Thu 17 Jul 2025 02:41PM UTC
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Dancemom72 on Chapter 3 Thu 17 Jul 2025 11:59AM UTC
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BoredTeacher on Chapter 3 Thu 17 Jul 2025 02:54PM UTC
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Ishipwaytomanyships on Chapter 4 Wed 30 Jul 2025 06:23AM UTC
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BoredTeacher on Chapter 4 Thu 31 Jul 2025 06:59AM UTC
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Ameliaharper926 on Chapter 5 Wed 13 Aug 2025 10:35PM UTC
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BoredTeacher on Chapter 5 Thu 14 Aug 2025 12:20AM UTC
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The_Mad_Fangirl on Chapter 6 Tue 05 Aug 2025 03:35AM UTC
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BoredTeacher on Chapter 6 Tue 05 Aug 2025 11:39PM UTC
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The_Mad_Fangirl on Chapter 6 Fri 08 Aug 2025 05:11AM UTC
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BoredTeacher on Chapter 8 Fri 15 Aug 2025 03:04AM UTC
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Fabulous_as_FCUK on Chapter 10 Thu 21 Aug 2025 12:52PM UTC
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BoredTeacher on Chapter 10 Thu 21 Aug 2025 05:27PM UTC
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BoredTeacher on Chapter 11 Wed 03 Sep 2025 03:13AM UTC
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MaskedNarrative on Chapter 11 Wed 03 Sep 2025 07:40PM UTC
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BoredTeacher on Chapter 11 Sat 06 Sep 2025 11:23PM UTC
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