As the word “Poughkeepsie” left the Captain's lips, their sunglasses lit up on the inside for their eyes only. Director Fury's voice entered their ears through the earpieces. [b]“Captain Rogers. Special Agent Angel. Recently, S.H.I.E.L.D. has fallen to HYDRA's infiltration. Many agents true to S.H.I.E.L.D. have died already and those who haven't are hiding, working for Stark, or helping to rebuild our organization from the shadows. It's dangerous to be an agent now because our faces are known. I hope that, whether with the other agents or not, you will still fight for our cause. That being said, I've got one last mission for you. By the time you get this I'll be off the grid. Now. HYDRA's got roots deep down throughout SH.I.E.L.D. all across the globe. They've captured six of our Marine agents along with personnel from the Sandbox and are holding them hostage in a facility near the Sandbox. I've arranged transport to take the two of you out of New York. The jet is fueled and the coordinates are already pre-programmed. Go get those agents and bring them home... And destroy the Sandbox. Deliver them to Tony Stark.”[/b]

Images of the six agents and twenty-nine others began scrolling down their screen along with the coordinates to their jet. Alright, so it was a simple rescue and destroy mission. The woman sighed as she removed her glasses and earpiece. She kept her close distance to Steve so that her mouth could not be seen moving. [b]“Alright, let's go ahead and get out of here. The faster we move the faster we get to those agents. It's possible that some of them might be dead already – But let's keep it optimistic. I'll meet you on the bus in twenty minutes.”[/b] She finally pulled back with a smile, giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush. [b]“I had a really great time. I'll see you later tonight then?”[/b] She gently urged him out of the booth until they both stood. She leaned up and brushed her lips against his cheek. [b]“Star, two-six-four-three-five if you run into any trouble.”[/b] Her lips moved against his cheek as she spoke before slowly pulling away, offering a wink. She quickly pulled out the tips from her earlier performance, leaving the crumpled dollar bills on the table amidst the food and drink before happily skipping out the door. 

Unlike her companion, she hadn't brought a vehicle with her. She'd never meet new people and make proper observations of her surroundings if she was zooming around the city in a car. Still, vehicles were convenient – and pretty. She settled for walking again, disliking New York City's taxi cabs. Many of the drivers had no idea what personal boundaries were. Granted, she could be a bit invasive herself, but she was never wont to asking random strangers about their sex life. She wouldn't ask a complete stranger to babysit either. Of course, she did babysit those few instances when it was requested. That didn't mean that she didn't think the parents horribly irresponsible to be seeking babysitters from the back of taxi cabs. For all they knew, she could have been a serial killer. Well – She was. Many moons ago. But nobody would ever know about that. No, she would simply take a nice long stroll down the sidewalks and across the crosswalks until she found herself at a rundown apartment building. There was no friendly doorman to greet her, just thugs on the front steps. She waved them off as she ran inside, heading to the very top floor, last door on the left. 

Her apartment was... It was exactly what you'd expect of a woman like her. It was a very open space and nothing like the dingy rest of the building. The wooden floors were well polished and various art pieces were on display against the walls and on top of pedestals. Violons, guitars, flutes and more had their shelves, book shelves stuffed full of various... Well, books. There was a giant piano in the middle of the studio, right between the kitchen and the living room area. However, that's not what she was after. She darted quickly through her apartment, packing a duffel bag along with a backpack with a few supplies and weapons before properly arming herself, concealing her weapons. She was in and out in a snap with her keys in hand and a smile on her face. 

Sliding into her red Bugatti, she cranked up the sounds of Enrique Iglesias and  tore off down the road. She darted through traffic with little care for other cars, maneuvering her way around them with ease as she made straight for the outskirts of the city, hitting well over 120mph as soon as she crossed the line, taking off down a dirt road. 

The ride lead down more dirt and gravel roads, passing by numerous trees. It didn't take much longer for her to reach her destination – It was a massive house set upon expansive land. Passing through the gate with proper identification was hardly time-consuming. She pulled her phone out and texted the coordinates to Steve, parking her car near the massive water fountain before boarding the large black jet that awaited them. She [i]could[/i] have picked him up. She probably should have taken him home with her and let him use some of her gear for the mission. However, she wasn't really the type to bring home people from work these days. It wasn't that she didn't trust him – He was [i]Captain freakin' America[/i]. She just didn't like having strangers inside her home. 

She loaded herself up into the jet and immediately set to turn on the speakers, blaring a medley of 80s metal and rock while singing loudly along with the lyrics as she headbanged. A trip to the cockpit and she set the take-off timer for an hour, assuming that Steve would be there by then. The autopilot would activate and take them to the pre-entered coordinates so she had the chance to do something useful with her time. Like change clothes and draw. Standing up, she held her arms out and closed her eyes. She could feel an energy surge through her body, the glow present so bright that she could still see it through her eyelids. Opening her eyes, she checked her reflection. Her body now adorned a catsuit as white as virgin snow. It flattered her figure, an near exact replica of the one her former mentor (Natasha Romanoff) wore. With the exception of the color  – except the black belts that she wore around her waist, arms, and thighs – her belt buckle was a golden feather. 

Satisfied with the transformation, she fluffed her blue locks and made her way to the Captain's cabin where she pulled out a sketchbook and pencil, placing the lead against the paper. She began with soft lines, unsure of exactly what she was drawing until she began etching a strong jaw and a soft smile. She returned that smile as she continued to draw the handsome face of her Star Spangled partner. She had gotten a clear and close look at his face, committing every detail to memory. The bright cerulean eyes, his lips that were neither too full nor too thin but probably undoubtedly as soft as his gaze, and the smooth shaven face that announced that he made time for keeping up physical appearance even when work got rough. She dazed off as she drew, her eyes glazing over as her vision went blurry from staring, her hand seeming to move of its own accord.