"A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you."

Elbert Hubbard

           Bucky wrapped his arm around Ophelia's shoulder, and she leaned in against his neck to whisper in his ear. Sam and Steve were still discussing what they had planned in order to get this small grouping of people to Siberia in time to stop the doctor from waking the Death Squad. In her gut, Ophelia was terrified of facing them because she knew that she could not stop them. But, with these people by her side, she knew that there was a chance she could make a change, make a difference in the world. Though there were elaborate obstacles that Steve hadn't even gotten into, Ophelia felt a sense of bonding between everyone. They had to get out of the building soon, but they had to be smart about every move they made from then on. Each one of them was a wanted criminal, regardless of if they were trying to stop a possible genocide.

          Ophelia's whisper carried over to Bucky's ear. "Remember that first... night two winters ago?"

          "How could I forget?" he whispered back with a smile in his voice.

         "Do you still see me?"

          Bucky turned and faced her, wrapping his left arm that had been around her shoulders up so that it was just behind her neck. Since he had removed the scarf, she had kept it off. Not to reveal to Bucky what he had done or so that he had to keep thinking of it, but because he wanted to see what he had done, he wanted to feel that guilt. He had protested when she went to put it back on, and so she stopped trying. Bucky's right hand slid into hers and he looked her dead in the eyes, showing her that same look he had shown her that night two Decembers ago. Nothing had changed, not really. There was no ebb to the emotion in his eyes, it had not dimmed and dwindled as so many relationships did. They never settled when they could have better, because they were each others' better.

          "You're all I see, O." He brought his lips to hers, but there was a throat being cleared in the background. Bucky pulled back and looked beyond O, seeing Steve standing there with his arms crossed over his strong chest. Bucky raised an eyebrow. "What?"

          Ophelia turned and looked at Steve, disappointment heavy in her eyes. Steve cocked his head to the side and looked at Sam. "We leave these two alone for one minute."

          Sam chuckled. "You can never trust the young ones. So full of hormones."

         "Hey Steve, what's the name of your last girlfriend?" Bucky fired back.

           Sam threw his head back in laughter, knowing that Steve really hadn't had a girlfriend, and couldn't give a name. Steve, defeated, shook his head and uncrossed his arms. Bucky shifted so that his arm was just around Ophelia's shoulder again, and walked over towards Sam and Steve. They had discussed their plans, who they could trust, and what was going to happen over the next few days. It was time to relay it back to Bucky and O, who had spent the duration of that conversation trying to overcome the overbearing dread of what had happened only a few hours ago. It seemed as though it were years ago now, in the past like everything else.

          "Wait, you really haven't had a girlfriend?" Bucky widened his eyes. O glanced at him and scorned him with her eyes.

           "I-" Steve was stumped.

          "He's been busy. No thanks to you," Sam intervened, keeping the playful mood in the air but also moving things along. "Clint got a hold of Lang."

          "Good, we better get moving then." Steve took the lead, glaring once more at Bucky. "Sharon is going to meet us in the morning with our gear."

          "O doesn't have any gear," Bucky stated. After the words were in the air, there was a collective smile among all the men's faces. One by one they began to realize that O needed a suit as well, as the rest of them had protective gear and fancy gadgets that helped them. Bucky didn't have that, but his serum and his arm were enough to get him through any fight. O, on the other hand, was wearing jeans, sneakers and a tank top. She certainly wasn't Death Squad fighting ready. And the guys knew it.

           "No, no, no!" O shook her head. "I am not going shopping with you guys."

          "Oh come on, O!" Bucky protested.

          "We've got the entire day to prepare for our probable demise," Sam said with a dark sense of humour, "might as well make the best of it."

          "I don't think that shopping with you three for a practical fighting outfit is 'making the best of it', Sam," she fired back.

          "No, I think it's a good idea. You have to have a suit," Steve agreed. "Majority rules."

          She gaped at them, and then threw her arms up. "Fine!"

***

           Every single one of them wore something to shadow their faces as they walked down the strip of stores in Berlin. The warm summer afternoon made for tons of tourists all lost in their own daze, taking photos of themselves in cute summer dresses and tossing change at the buskers on the sidewalks. O was already shaking her head by the time they slipped into the first store, nervous that they were going to get caught. Bucky, being fluent in German and quite the lady-killer, approached the pretty blonde woman at the register and began to chat with her while O slid down the never ending store, her fingers running over the clothing.

          She felt Sam and Steve hovering over her, and she glanced back at them. She'd never done anything like this before, and really didn't know where to start. When she was a HYDRA weapon, she had all her clothing and garb given to her each day. When she started living with Bucky, she didn't have to go out and buy outfits that would stand up to a Super Soldier, and everything she'd bought had been secondhand. This felt different, as if it was solidifying the fact she would have to go back into that place she had nightmares of. But she wasn't going to back down, and if Captain America said she needed a suit, then she needed a suit.

          She grabbed a jacket that looked her size, and slid it off of the rack. Fitting it around her muscular arms, she felt that it was more breathable than she imagined. It was a faux-leather that moved easily. The collar was short, but over the clavicle area it pointed down into sharp and sleek looking points. Around her hips it also had points, making the jacket look almost from a different century, and yet would suit a biker. She moved around in it to get a good feel, both Sam and Steve nodding in approval. Glancing at herself in the mirror that was placed upon a pillar in the middle of the store, she felt confident.

           Then she glanced at the price tag hanging off of the sleeve. "I can't afford anything like this. I don't even have..."

           Steve raised a hand. "No, don't worry about it."

           Bucky joined them then, raising his eyebrows slightly in a show of relief to be away from the cashier. She was dealing with a customer but was glancing over at the three attractive men in the store with clothing only for women. "Jess over there wants to help you find an outfit for our 'bike trip', O."

          "Isn't that sweet of Jess?" O chuckled. 

          Steve laughed. "Outfit is on me."

          "I can't ask that from you, this jacket is outrageously priced. What, is Jess feeling a family of twelve?"

          "I'm an Avenger, or was. We make good money," Steve assured her.

          Sam piped up, "Not enough to buy a place in Brooklyn though."

         "Housing in Brooklyn is that bad?" Bucky asked Steve.

          Ophelia took advantage of the boys chit chatting to slip away. She took the jacket off and went on a search for something else. Jess approached her when she had finished with her customer, and already had a handful of items in her arms. She smiled brightly at Ophelia with her cherry-red lips. The blonde grabbed one more thing off of a rack and finally looked as though she was satisfied.

          "I'll start you a room," she said brightly.

          "Shouldn't I look at them first?"

          "Oh no," her accent was strong, "You're going to have a hard time choosing just one outfit."

         "With those three nitpicking, I have to agree."

           She laughed lightly, and put the clothes into the change room, and slid the velvet red curtain over to cover the room. Hearing shuffling outside, Ophelia knew that she had gathered a crowd of three particular men waiting to see what she was trying on. Her cheeks reddened slightly, and she had to tell herself that she had to enjoy these moments, because they didn't last very long. They had less than twenty-four hours to pick an outfit, get some rest, plan out how they might possibly defeat the Death Squad, find a hotel, get their gear from Sharon and get to Siberia. 

           With that thought, she smiled and tried on the first pair of pants. They too were a polyurethane fabric like the jacket that allowed for a sleek leather look but offered a lot of stretch and movement. The boots she had to wrap up herself, but they were like walking on clouds, and she had to admit, they looked good. The shirt was red and loose fitting, and she knew it was wrong right off the bat.

            She stepped out, her wrapped feet upon the hardwood floors of the store. Her eyebrows were raised as she looked questioningly at the scrutinizing eyes glancing back at her. Sam was shaking his head, Steve had his head cocked to the side, and Bucky was smiling. He reached his hand out, gloved and covered completely, and made a twirling motion. Ophelia obeyed, twirling slightly to show all angles of her new outfit. The shirt lifted slightly, and she quickly grabbed the front of the shirt and covered her stomach. When she finished the circle, she was clutching the shirt awkwardly and looking nervous.

          "Nope." Bucky shook his head, knowing Ophelia's struggle with accepting the HYDRA markings on her stomach. "That shirt is all wrong."

          They all watched as he stood up and disappeared into the racks of clothing. After a moment, he shouted, "Jess! Give me a hand."

          The blonde made a humourous face towards O, as if asking permission to dart through aisles with another woman's boyfriend. She nodded her permission towards Jess and watched as they muttered quietly to one another. Ophelia leaned against the wall of the change room and dropped one eyebrow. Pointing at Bucky, she spoke to Steve, "I'm always amazed by him."

         "He always was better with the ladies," Steve told her.

         "Maybe because you're blind."

         "What are you talking about?"

         "Come on!" O laughed. "Sharon?"

          "Sharon..?" The smile came to his lips even though he tried to stop it. He opened his mouth to protest, but Bucky had returned, Jess at his heels. The man handed Ophelia a shirt, and she looked at it with absolute horror on her face.

          "No." She shook her head.

          "Why not? It's breathable, it's sexy, it suits you."

          "It shows my stomach," she muttered quietly.

          "Hardly." He held up the shirt again. It was a regular looking tank top, with built in bra. From the clavicle section it was mesh and made a V shape down to the bottom of the shirt with mesh. She yanked it from his hand and studied it, trying to imagine herself in it. Bucky leaned in, making sure that Jess couldn't hear what he was about to say. "Look, I know you're scared to show off your scars. I hide my arm every single day, but it is part of me. It might not define me, but it has defined who I've become. Embrace what you've survived through, O, because you've been through so much. Show the world how much you can take, and give it back to them."

           O felt a smile tug at her lips, and she looked up to meet his eyes. "You really are a smooth talker, you know that right?"

            "How else could I land a girl like you?"

 How I imagined O's outfit;