Chaos Angel

Work of Angels

Bucky's POV:

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Doll?" I asked Azaziel for the third time. She sighed in annoyance and ruffled my hair, having to fly up slightly to do so.  "I know you can take care of yourself, but if your older brother finds out about your alter ego, your life could be on the line." I reminded my best friend of the danger once again. We both stood in the quinjet waiting to take her to London, more specifically 221 C Baker Street. Of course I would be following her to London, making sure she got settled alright and then be on her emergency back up team that would either pick her up in the quinjet for missions, bust her out of jail if/when her alter ego was discovered, or just to give back-up on a mission. 

"Bucky, for the last time, I am not only a big girl, but a highly-trained assassin and escape artist. I have escaped from Sherrinford, the Pentagon, the CIA, the UN, SHIELD, and multiple other locations. I can handle London." Azaziel explained, hugging me.

"Alright, if you're really sure." I said and took off. Ozzy sat in her seat, headphones in, probably listening to some sort of energetic classical pop. She looked so different as to when I first met her, all those years ago in a HYDRA prison. Back then, Azaziel never looked anyone in the eyes; she never spoke, never did anything unnecessary, and never would have put up with being called Ozzy all the time. Now, Ozzy had this aura of strength, power, confidence, peace, and calmness around her. Her azure eyes opened and caught me staring. "I was-" Ozzy cut me off with,

"I know what you were thinking. I can read minds, ya know. And, you think really loudly. I think you look different too. You're more confident, more easy-going, and definitely hotter." I blushed at her words. "Don't worry, Buck, I'm still not interested in dating." Ozzy said, deducing my blush without reading my mind.

About 3 hours later, we landed in London. The quinjet was equipped with Wakandan technology, allowing us to blend in better, even though SHIELD was still legally active. Ozzy grabbed her stuff and caught a cab. The cabbie looked at us for a moment before sighing.

"More Americans? Where to? Parliament?" The cabbie asked. I laughed. "What's so funny, buddy?" he asked.

"We're not tourists. Far from it. I'm Amelia Holder, and this here is my co-worker Johnathon Bishop. We're here to go to 221 C Baker Street." Ozzy lied easily, handing the cabbie several notes. True, Amelia Holder and Johnathon Bishop were our undercover names, but still, the poor cabbie didn't need to be lied to. He took us to Central London and stopped at Baker Street. Ozzy and I got out and the cabbie drove away. She knocked on the door and kindly Mrs. Hudson opened it and welcomed us in. Once inside, we met a man who looked a lot like Ozzy.

"Mrs. Hudson, do you have any..." The man trailed off as he saw Ozzy. "I'm Sherlock, and I'm assuming your name is Azaziel Roslyn Holmes, my twin sister." the man said, walking toward Ozzy. I put myself between him and her and crossed my arms over my chest, metal arm on full display. "There is no need for your jealous antics. You're simply here to ensure the safety of Miss Holmes and that is it, although you would like something more with her than friendship, as deductible by your stance, constant checking for danger, the fact you chose to put yourself between me and my sister but let my sister approach Mrs. Hudson, and your obvious obsession with fitness." Sherlock said.  I looked back at Ozzy and she was- to my eyes- holding back a laugh. To anyone else, she probably looked emotionless.

"Well, damn. You're just like your twin. And no, you're wrong, I'm currently dating someone else." I lied easily. I wasn't dating, and I was not interested in Ozzy. "Ozzy, you want to explain my thoughts?" I asked, looking back at my best friend.

"Of course Buck. Sherlock, you're completely wrong. Bucky is my best friend, he has PTSD and is insanely protective of me for a multitude of reasons, the first and foremost is the reason why we've never met. The people who kidnapped me will try to get me back. That's why he's always put himself before me. We did a background check on the landlady before I moved in order to ensure maximum security." Ozzy explained. I nodded in satisfaction. "And anyhow, I think you need to get back to HQ, Buck. I'll see you tomorrow." I look over at her and she gives me the look.

"Fine. Drive safe, don't die." I said and kissed her cheek, to which she responded by kissing mine.  "Be good to my best friend." I warned Sherlock and left.

Sherlock's POV:

What were the odds of my twin sister coming to stay at Baker Street? She obviously could deduce like me, but I wondered who was more intellectually sound.  I looked over at my sister and frowned. Liar, power, training, abused, high-end job, field agent, busy, talented, LIAR! All of the sudden I understood. My sister was like Mary.  An agent, not free-lance, but employed. 

"You're an agent." I blurted out and Azaziel smiled wolfishly. "Or an assassin, but I'm going to go with agent. You seem a little too inexperienced to be an assassin." I continued and she sighed.

"You're wrong. I worked as an assassin for years, but SHIELD got me out of that life and I've been a field agent who sometimes does assassinations ever since." Azaziel explained quietly. "My life is not a safe one, but I love my job, it allows me to wipe out the red in my ledger." She continued. "Also, please call me Oz. Not Ozzy, but Oz." my sister asked. I frowned at her choice of words. Not Ozzy. Apparently, Ozzy was some sort of personal pet name for her, only further validating the fact 'Bucky' had feelings for her.

"Why do you refuse anyone else to call you Ozzy?" I asked quickly. Oz put her face in her hands and sighed. "Oh, he does it just to annoy you, and you don't mind it to terribly because if you did, he would never dare to call you that." I answered my own question with my deductions. She nodded and yawned.

"I have work tomorrow morning, so I should probably get some sleep. Nice meeting you Sherlock." Oz said before disappearing into her flat.