Coming Down ➢ Steve Rogers

twenty

Chapter Twenty

Delaney chewed on her bottom lip as she read through the numerous reports she, Nat, and Clint had drawn up over the past few weeks of spying. Guard movements. Time changes. Entrances. Cameras. People who went in and out.

People who went in, and didn't come back out.

Delaney exhaled heavily and ran a hand through her hair. Her parents had a skilled defence in place – they'd noticed that as soon as they arrived.

Staying undercover wasn't easy, but with Natasha and Clint, the best in the business, by her side, they managed. It helped that Natasha had brought several wigs and other means of disguise with them.

The hideout of her parents was in the middle of a thriving city. And, she'd learned, it was the perfect guise. Their guards dressed like ordinary people and wandered around the sidewalks, handing out brochures or eating in coffee shops. At night, they posed as homeless people, pretending to sleep in sleeping bags. It was such a clever ruse.

They'd learned most of what they needed to know. And now, it was all a matter of putting it all together, and getting Evan to work his technological magic on the matter.

The door clicked. Delaney glanced up to see it shouldered open to reveal Natasha.

The redhead leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over her chest. "Why are you so serious?"

Delaney didn't grace the question with an answer. Instead, she shot her best friend a withering look.

Natasha responded with a roll of her eyes. She stalked over and perched herself on the corner of Delaney's bed. Delaney flicked her eyes up as Natasha patted her on the leg. "C'mon, Lane, it's your last night with us," she implored, sending Delaney a pointed look. "One night off the job isn't going to jeopardise the operation."

"Don't jinx it, Nat," Delaney mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She was too proud right then to admit that the words were blurring together on the page. She flicked her hair behind her head and smiled. "But I think you're right." She threw the notes on to the bed. "We basically have everything we need to know, ready to commence operation soon after Evan and Cristina arrive."

Natasha winked. "That's the spirit. Clint's already making food."

Delaney's spirits soared at the news, and she at once leaped off the bed. "Definitely a cause to celebrate, then," she chirped. Clint's cooking was always a treat. "Is it pasta?"

"What else?"

Delaney beamed. "Perfect."

If Mexican and Indian was her favourite food, then pasta came after. Especially when spices were added, and it was a vegetarian dish to boot. And – she took a deep inhalation of the air and the scents on it – she grinned.

Clint definitely knew her, inside out. Her favourite pasta dish was being cooked tonight. Her mouth salivated in anticipation of the food.

Sure enough, when they rounded the corner, Clint was piling steaming pasta onto three plates. He grinned. "Dinner is served."

"Clint, you wonderful man," Delaney sang. She didn't even wait to sit down before she inhaled a part of the dish, moaning as the numerous spices hit her tastebuds. And not just moderately spiced, but strong, just the way she liked it.

Clint laughed. Chewing, her mouth full of food, Delaney gravitated toward the table and was soon joined by the other two.

"This is delicious," Delaney said after a few more mouthfuls. She pointed her fork at Clint. "Worth having you by our side just for this."