Hi. I only own the storyline and the OCs. Everything else belongs to Marvel and Stan Lee.

River sighed in exasperation as she leaned up against her bedroom wall, holding her phone to one ear. "I really don't have time for this, Fury," she said into it, tone clipped with annoyance.

"I never said you did; just be there."

"Fine. When?"

"Within the next hour."

"And a half. You woke me up."

"River—"

"And a half, Fury. No less, and no more." River smirked at the annoyed growl on the other end. "Oh, and don't count on your 'trackers' finding a home on my persons." Taking the device from her ear, River ended the call.

Recently, Fury had been getting more and more annoying. She supposed that with the threat of the Winter Soldier hanging over everyone's heads in Washington, he expected her to simply lay down her independency and work for him.

Yeah, right.

She entered the medium-sized kitchen of her smallish apartment, filling the kettle with water and setting it on the stove. She quickly grabbed a mug and a pot of green tea leaves, popped two pieces of bread into the toaster, grabbed a jar of apple-grape jelly and a small white plate. Then, as the kettle started whistling, she poured the hot water into the mug, spooned in some of the tea leaves and put the pot back in its corner of the cabinet. Tasks done, River left the tea to steep and went to wake herself up in the bathroom.

When River exited, the mug of tea had steeped, filling the air with a sweet, relaxing scent, and the toast had popped up, the smell of warm bread adding to the delicious-smelling air. Quickly, she put the two pieces of bread onto her plate, spread them with jelly, and sat down to a quick breakfast.

By the time she was done, she had another fifteen minutes until she needed to leave. Using the time to dress, she chose a simple outfit that wouldn't hamper her movements if she ended up needing to move fast: a black tank top underneath a red shirt, a comfortable pair of athletic pants (she had a thing against jeans), her black leather jacket and a pair of tall, supple-heeled boots. Brushing her long black hair into a French braid, River deemed herself ready to go.

So she went.

It only took about a minute to hail a cab, which dropped her off outside the Stark tower. Fury always seemed to want her to meet the Avengers; God knows how many times he'd tried. So far, though, she'd only met Tony Stark (who gave her a migraine at the best of times, and a desire to give him a broken nose at others), Bruce Banner, whom she liked, and Natasha Romanov, who was as close to a sister as one could get for River. The rest of the team were scattered all over the place, handling their own problems.

So now, when River had awoken to a call from Fury saying he wanted to meet with her at Stark towers to 'discuss' things, she knew from experience that it meant, "I want you to work for me as an undercover agent, and then I might have you join the Avengers so you can spy on them for me." Though he never actually said that. But she could hear it, like an undercurrent.

Entering the building, River nodded to the holographic woman sitting behind the desk. It smiled, saying, "Welcome back, Miss River. Mister Stark, Director Fury and Agent Barton are waiting for you on the twenty-third floor.

"Thanks," River answered, thinking to herself, Well, I suppose I'm meeting the Hawk boy today.

She took the elevator up, even though she usually preferred stairs. Too many floors, not enough time. When River finally reached the twenty-third floor, elevator doors sliding open with a ping, it was to find Fury, Stark, and another guy, a blond, that she didn't know—but she assumed this was Agent Clint Barton, the famous Hawkeye—squabbling. Fury, dominant as ever, was standing with his back to the window (and, consequently, the sun, making him little more than a silhouette, hiding the bruises and scrapes that River knew were the Winter Soldier's work), crouched over the polished-to-mirror-like-reflection meeting table, apparently having recently slammed his fist on it. Stark, leaning back with his feet on the table, looked bored and amused at the same time. Barton looked much the same, sitting in a similar position, bow leaned against his chair and gaze staring sightlessly out the window.

As River stepped off the elevator, all three men looked up. She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Fury," she said, exasperated, "if you wanted me here so that I could back you up on whatever your trying to get Stark to do, you can either tell me what's going on or I'm out."

Fury glared. "Miss River," he said, "I have a feeling you won't actually need to be smart once you know what's going on."

"And?"

Stark sat up. "I'm guessing that they haven't yet put out the news that Cap captured the Winter Soldier, who was actually Cap's old friend from the past, Bucky, who had been brainwashed by a guy named Alexander Pierce—who, in reality, is actually a guy named Johann Schmidt, or the Red Skull."

River frowned. "So… just about everyone from the 40's is coming back to life?"

"Everyone who was put in the history books, yeah," confirmed the billionaire. "We're bringing the Soldier up to New York, try and put him in rehab."

"Aaaand you want me to help," River finished for him.

"Yep."

"Why?

Fury answered. "Because you yourself are in a similar situation, Miss River."

River scowled. "Okay, first off," she said, holding up her hands, "enough with the 'Miss' thing. It's annoying. Second, how do you factor that someone like me could help him?"

"We all have our reasons," Fury stated.

River scowled even more, but when she caught a weird look from Hawkeye—one that was at the same time calculating, slightly hopeful and slightly cynical—she sighed. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you if I'm no help at all," she said sharply.

Well? Please review and tell me what you think so far!

FF