A man walked in the shadows of the historic district of Bucharest. He kept to himself as much as he could, head down with his cap pulled down and a furtive hunted look in his strong blue eyes. He hung close to the buildings. He watched as a group of laughing girls exited an upscale night club. They saw him and quieted and scurried past, he could hear the sound of their high heels moving at a quicker pace without even looking up. He did look a little sketchy, he had to admit it, but it was better that way, people avoiding him protected them from him. He feared what he might do, every moment was a fight to stay lucid and not fall back into the default of his training.

He walked on, the great Church of Saint Catherine all ablaze from the lights that lit the front of it's massive facade. He had been in once, it had made remember going to church in his old life, it was fuzzy, but he had a memory of going to church. He felt that Steve had been there with him. Steve, the man he'd tried to kill and then saved his life from that river. Steve who he had known seventy years ago and been best friends with. But that life was such an illusionary past that he could never pin down, it was traces, like scenes from a movie, it didn't feel like that swaggering good natured, clear conscienced happy go lucky man in 1945 had ever been him.

A few blocks from the church, the glow still visible he found himself in a back alley behind some restaurants and the other side backed by some student housing.

"Leave me alone. I've nothing of value to give you" came a curt feminine voice trying to mask fear. Bucky knew what masked fear sounded like, he remembered victims who had tried to act brave before he had taken their lives. He looked down the corner of a little offshoot of the alley. A woman who looked to be a student was standing, cornered by four bulky looking men.

"You may have nothing, but you'll be worth something" one said coming forward. "We know your family, they've enough money to buy you back if they care to" the girl spit in his face.

"How dare you? My family" but her words were ended by a swift blow from his hand that sent her reeling.

"Or maybe we won't let you off that easy, there's other ways to make money off a girl like you" he said looking down at her as she struggled to her feet.

"Don't you even think about it, I'd rather die" she said, knowing that the sex trade was where he meant to send her if ransom failed.

"I don't care what you would or wouldn't rather" he said "stay down" he said kicking her in the stomach and sending her back to the ground.

"Hey" came a hoarse voice as the man felt his shoulder yanked on and hand as hard as stone punch him, fracturing his chin he felt for sure, but conscieniousness left him too soon to know more. "Why don't you guys pick on someone your own size" he said, looking over at the girl, he felt his ways as an asassin surging, but he couldn't kill, not now, not in front of an already frightened girl. He didn't like leaving witnesses, but, as he despatched another reeling blow to one of the ruffians, he thought, these guys aren't likely to go to the police. Without effort the last two fell to the ground at his hand. He looked at the girl with her bleeding forehead gasping curled on the ground. He felt he had done this sort of thing in his old life, back when he was the charmer with the generous heart. He thought about just leaving her, but something prompted him to go ask her how she was before he left her scared and alone in the alley. Maybe guilt, he thought as he walked over to her. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. Her head was pounding too much to hear. He bent down to where she was "hey" he said gently pulling her hand away from her head "are you okay?" he asked feeling a little awkward, and not quite understanding where this sudden concern for others was coming from.

"I think so" she said wiping her head, she looked at the smear of blood on the back of her hand "could be worse" she said trying to stand up. She started to slide back downwards but she felt his hand take hers and lift her to her feet as casually as if he had just lifted a child's doll.

"Can I take you somewhere where you'll be safe" he said his arm of flesh steadying her and helping to hold her upright.

"I don't know where that is, those thugs knew a little too much about me to feel safe anywhere right now."

He paused, trying to think of something, he didn't want to go to a hospital, he'd get asked to fill out one of those forms and have too much attention on him, he knew he could fix up her wounds easily and so he decided, despite all reason, to take her back to his flat and bandage her up and then in the morning she could find her way back to wherever she felt safe going.

"If it's alright, I can patch you up at my flat" he offered.

She nodded "I'd feel safe there" she said slumping further as the pain of her wounds fogged her mind further. The initial influx of endorphins was fading and now the pain was hitting her and making her head swim. She felt his arms shift and her feet were no longer treading pavement and she was horizontal in his arms. She let go of trying to stay lucid and put her head on his shoulder and fainted, reganing concsiousness as he walked up the stairs of a little run-down flat where she would never have willingly went for a million dollars after dark, but with her rescuer around she felt as safe as if she were back home in her warm bed back in the States.

He felt more uncomfortable with her trust than he did with the fear others showed him. How could she be comfortable around him, he looked like a scruffy homeless guy, he lived in a rundown little apartment with a suspicious few personal items. These thoughts and more went through his head as he cleaned the wound on her head and then bandaged it up. "I didn't tie it too tight did I?" he asked. He was always terrified that he would forget his own strength and crush someone's shoulder bones when he just meant to tap them. She looked up at him, and she saw that fear, that furtive fear and pain and she didn't know what to do about it, but she felt the need to help his need. She said a prayer in that moment that she would say the right words around him, he needed much and had lived a hard life, she could tell that much just by the lines on his face and the pain in his eyes.

"It's just fine" she said and then took his hand in hers "Thank you" her words were spoken with gentle sincerity and for a moment he was struck by the trust and kindness that shone in her soft grey eyes. He managed something not quite a smile, but less than his usual sterness.

"Just doing the right thing" he said and moved away, getting her a cup of water.

"Thanks" she took it and drained it, far more thirsty than she realized. He gave a wry smile and refilled it for her silently.

"So" she began, sipping her second cup "to whom do I owe my gratitude" she asked and he stopped, startled, trying quickly to think up something, he hated it when people tried to get personal, but it was just a name, and he wasn't afraid of this girl, just of hurting her or getting her into trouble.

"Bucky" he said sitting down on the edge of the bed because he only had the one chair.

"That's a funny name" she commented "back in Texas we have these giant convenience stores called Buccee's, don't suppose you're named after them though" she said giggling as she pulled her feet up and rested her chin on the top of her knees.

Something hoarse came from his throat, almost like a chuckle, if he could remember how to laugh "No, it's short for Buchanan" he said, he hadn't meant to.

"We have a lake in Texas named Buchanan" she observed, putting her feet back on the floor. A silence fell over the room for a half minute or so.

"You talk about Texas a lot" he said with another almost smile.

"It's where I'm from" she said, wanting to ask him where he was from but not daring to, she felt it would be a bad idea and she'd rather have his silence than his lies.

There was silence again.

"You never told me your name?" he said looking over at her threw the messy strands of hair that fell in his face.

"It's Candace" she said "Candace Ross" she smiled and went over, putting her hand out ot shake. He took it hesitantly and shook it. She sat down on the bed, a foot or so down from him.

"So why are you in Bucharest Candy" he said, he didn't know why he called her Candy, it was something his old self would have done, he felt sure of it, but him now, he had no idea where this stuff was coming from. Nicknames were not a thing emotionally scarred asassins did.

She looked at him funnily and gave a giggle at his nickname for her. "I'm visiting a friend who took orders and now is part of the clerics at Saint Catherine's. He's a great guy, he's helping raise awareness for the poverty in this city, and also he raises moeny for missions to other countries."

Bucky nodded, people being kind and reaching out for the impoverished seemed like a really noble, Steve sort of thing, to do. He looked over at her, looking at her properly for the first time since they had met a little over an hour ago. She had medium blonde hair and was a medium height her eye level evening up with his shoulders roughly. And those eyes, the eyes that looked on him with compassion and without fear. He looked away, focusing his blank stare on the refrigerator across the room. Silence fell and when he looked over he saw she had dozed against the footboard of the little bed. He got up, pulled the coverings back and moved so she lay the length of the bed, putting the pillow under head and pulling the covers back over her. He sat down in the plain wooden chair and stared out the slit in the curtains on the window at the city lights, focusing his eyes on something, trying to keep his mind on healthier things and not think on his past. He also had to think of what he was going to do now that someone knew his name and location, though not his identity it would seem. She would not likely be comfortable enough to fall asleep around someone who had so much blood on his hands.

An hour or so lately Candace stirred and opened her eyes, rubbing the haze from them to see Bucky looking straight at her.

"How do you do it?" he asked curiously.

She propped on one elbow looking at him curiously "Do what?"

"Sleep so soundly" he asked. He had looked over at her to check on her every now and then, and every time she had she had been sleeping as soundly as a baby in it's mother's arms.

"Because I don't fear much of anything, because my faith, even if I died in my sleep or something I'd be fine. Nothing hunts me and while I have regrets nothing haunts me" she said getting up and going over to him. "Speaking of which, you should get some rest yourself, I can nap on the floor or something until it's light. I can't just steal your bed, it wouldn't say much for my gratitude if I did" she chuckled softly.

"No, it's alright, I can't sleep, and right now at least I don't want to" he said looking up at her as she stood over him. In a way she did, despite the fact he would dwarf her if he got to his feet, she stood on this towering high ground of goodness and a wholesome life with a pure heart and clean hands. He felt like a scurrying sewer rat as she stood there practically beaming justice like one of those depictions of the saints in the mosaics inside Saint Catherine's.

She went back over to the bed. He was such a gentleman, it's like he'd fallen out of some other time zone like the 1940's or something. Other guys would have at least suggested they share the bed and more than likely tried to make a move on her, she was, after all, alone, in his apartment. But he just sat there, almost like a guard dog keeping a watchful eye on the door and it made her feel safe.

"Good night Bucky" she said sleepily as she snuggled into the covers.

"Good night Candy" he said. And by the time she woke up he, and the meagre personal posessions that had been in the apartment were gone. She looked around the apartment, hoping to find a clue, all she found was little button, an inch in diameter with a pin on the back and a print of Captain America's shield on the other side. She chuckled to herself, it seemed tall dark and mysterious was a fan of the star spangled Avenger. She put it in her pocket and then left. Determined one day to find the broken man named Bucky once more.

She called her father after she made arrangements to fly home early. After telling him the story she asked a question on the phone "Dad, if I find him again, would you talk to him?"

"Honey, he saved your life, there's not much I wouldn't do for him, after all helping people is my job, and from the sound of it this man is dealing with a lot" he said patiently. Richard Ross was the leading therapy psychiatrist in the central United States, he worked with dozens of severe PTSD cases and had helped his patience to peace. Bucky had been lucky with whose daughter he had saved.

Candy went home to the states and started back in at getting ready for the upcoming school year. She taught English Literature at a private high school. And every night after she graded papers before she went to bed she added Bucky to the list of those she said her prayers for. Even after Vienna, when she felt certain that there was a mistake and her savior was no mass murderer despite even her father's doubts, she kept praying for his sanity and safety. She knew one day she'd find him, and her father despite his doubts still promised his help.