xxviii. the perfect team

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"Baby, don't you see? Only a genius could love a woman like she." -- Genius, LSD

~ ~ ~

Sam paced Steve's tent before turning on him, hands tightening into fists. 

"Screw the Colonel!"

"Samantha," Steve sighed, rubbing his temples tiredly. He looked torn by the orders, split between listening to her rant and telling her to go back to her tent. Chester Phillips held the authority over him, she knew. Over all of them. 

He made the orders he thought were right.

But currently, she wanted to punch the old man in the face.

"We're the Howling Commandos, Steve, we can handle this by ourselves! We have to get the prisoners out, they're executing them."

"I know, Sam." He said softly. "And we will get them out. But I can't defy the SSR's orders. We'll have reinforcements within the next few days and we'll rescue them. I promise."

"Not all of them," she growled. "Not if we wait. What are we supposed to tell their families? That we wouldn't risk it a little early? We're soldiers, Steve, it's our job to risk our lives."

"Sam," he tried again. She continued to pace and eyes flashing, he rose his voice; for the first time she'd ever known him. "Samantha, stop!"

Going rigid, she turned to him.

"I rushed orders," Steve said, a new look cracking through his eyes. Guilt, she realized. "When we raided the base back in France. When you were captured. We were supposed to have more men, we were supposed to know they had Tesseract weapons. But we didn't. Because of me."

Sam deflated, her rage going up in smoke. "Steve..." Her heart twisted.

"I can't do it again," he said. "I won't risk my team-- any of you-- because I refuse to follow orders. I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes. More than anything, she wanted to accept his final words. From his view, she could understand. She should understand. But her heart wouldn't accept it. Her mind wouldn't agree with the facts. 

Still, she forced herself to nod, looking back at him. "It's okay, Steve. You have nothing to apologize for."

Relief flooded his eyes and guilt twisted in her stomach. "Thanks, Sam."

"I could never ask you to risk our lives," she whispered. He smiled fondly and inclining her head, she turned, leaving the tent. Bucky waited outside.

"Smalls?"

"I'm alright," she murmured.

But she wasn't. She wasn't and she couldn't really explain why. Maybe it was because she knew the horror of being imprisoned. She kept seeing William, knowing how she'd feel if she was told he'd died in the prisons of Hydra. Did she have the restraint to wait?

She already knew that answer.

"You're not going to do anything reckless, are you?" He asked, taking her shoulders and gazing down at her. Sam forced a smile.

"When am I ever reckless?"

He tilted a pointed brow. She chuckled.

"Fair enough." But she didn't say anything else, turning toward her tent. Bucky followed at her side, a constant presence she couldn't put into words how much she appreciated. Pausing outside, she turned back to him. "I adore you, Barnes."

"And I, you, Smalls."

Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips against his; a short, sweet kiss that sent shivers down her spine. He smiled around her mouth, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her heart touched his as she pulled back. "Goodnight, Barnes."

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