Distortion

It smelled of burnt bacon and old oil inside, but these smells didn’t bother those who wandered into the roadside diner for various reasons. Some fought driver drowsiness with coffee, some looked for a cheap place to eat, and some hid from prying ears. Lauren stared out the window, where the neon sign reflected as a soft glow, thinking of what to say. James, holding a plastic cup of coffee, felt the approaching storm about to break between them. “So this is what a formal dinner at the mayor’s looks like?” he smirked, trying to lighten the mood, but Lauren slowly shook her head, biting the inside of her lip. “This is what a safe place looks like,” she turned to look at the worker who was staring at his phone. “Though I wouldn’t be entirely sure.” “What’s going on?” Barnes got straight to the point, understanding Lauren was on the verge of fleeing the conversation she herself had started. “Valentina,” she exhaled, her shoulders slumping forward. Lauren’s voice sounded hollow, and she herself was surprised she allowed such a tone. “She hired me, not Sam. Long story, doesn’t matter. I told her I could retrieve the Shard.” “Can you?” he asked, letting her other words pass by. They wouldn’t get answers. Not now. “I don’t know,” she lowered her gaze, staring at her murky reflection in the coffee cup. “I’m unstable around it, so I need someone who can stop me.” “I know what you’re hinting at,” James leaned back against the time-worn, cracked back of the booth and crossed his arms. Lauren stayed silent, waiting for an answer. She folded her hands in front of her in a silent plea, as if wanting to touch him but couldn’t. Knew she might pay the price. Barnes also fell quiet, watching the drops of cooling rain slowly slide down the windowpane. He had stepped away from that life, deciding to do something truly useful, but always remembered you couldn’t hide from the past. James saw his own reflection in Lauren, and only he could understand how hard it was to face what had made them this way. Broken them, rewritten according to others' terms. The only thing he didn’t know was that Lauren met her creator every day, and the Shard was the lesser of the things that could harm her. “I’ll understand if…” Lauren broke the silence, unable to guess what was going on in Bucky’s head, but he interrupted her: “I’ll help,” he shifted his gaze to the girl, and she, holding her breath, tried to discern what was hidden behind his heavy stare. Distrust? Weariness? Disappointment? She shook her head, brushing off these thoughts, and stood up. “Need a ride?” she smirked, realizing outside was just the road and forest stretching for miles. “Would be nice for such a request,” he stood up after her, pushing off the plastic table with his hands. “I think you owe me more than just a ride.” “I can drop you off at the right block if you’re hinting at something again,” her lost look instantly turned cold, bone-chilling. Barnes knew—the game was on again. “I was talking about something else,” he said as they walked to the car. “A bottle of good wine, secret documents, a friendly dinner at my place.” “All at once or can we split it up?” Lauren opened the driver’s door. “Then it wouldn’t be interesting,” Barnes chuckled quietly, getting into the car. “And what documents do you need?” she started the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly with cold fingers to hide the trembling. “About you,” he made himself comfortable, watching the girl’s face in the darkness of the car. “Even I don’t have a complete file on the monkey who fell into the wrong hands,” Lauren’s voice held a laugh, but her face was impassive. “You won’t find a complete dossier on me either, but that didn’t stop you,” James saw her brief glance at him. Caught. “Especially since I’m asking for it as payment for a service.” “You should have offered money,” Lauren tried to joke, but anxiety was tightening around her throat, and her heart was already pounding in her ears, reminding her what a bastard its owner was. “What if there’s something in there you won’t like?” “So, after reading my history, you think I’m a saintly angel?” James, smirking, ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “Mind if I give you the files on the way?” she asked cautiously, driving into the city. “So I don’t run off early?” Barnes wanted to press, but then decided to relent. “Fine.” “And when’s dinner?” Lauren looked at him challengingly, but both understood they didn’t have much time.