Chapter Text
Ted Lupin-Black sat at a corner booth in a bustling D.C. diner, the hum of the city a far cry from Siberian snows. Stationed at the Triskelion under Fury's direct command, he was part of Delta Squad, his skills honed into something elite.
His blue hair was neatly trimmed, his lean build clad in casual jeans and a jacket, but his eyes held the sharpness of experience. Across from him, Natasha Romanoff picked at a salad, her red hair framing a face that masked depths of trauma and resilience.
She was the only familiar soul in this concrete jungle, a mentor figure in the chaos of SHIELD ops. "So, tell me about your week off," she said, her green eyes amused. "Fredella and Georgina visiting—sounds chaotic."
Ted grinned, leaning back. "Chaotic in the best way. We hit the Smithsonian—those girls devoured the history exhibits. Then shopping. I finally bought that bike I've been eyeing—sleek black number, perfect for city runs. The twins picked out helmets, insisted on matching ones with phoenix decals. Dad would approve."
He paused, warmth in his voice. "And board games. Oh man, Monopoly went on for 37 hours straight. I built an empire, but they teamed up and bankrupted me while I napped. Woke up to them high-fiving."
Natasha laughed outright, a rare, genuine sound. "Sound like they're thriving. Harry's adoption went through?"
"Yeah, 2 months ago. They're family now. Dad and mom are naturals—homeschool, magic lessons, even therapy for the trauma. It's... healing."
Their phones buzzed simultaneously, screens lighting up with encrypted alerts. Ted's brow furrowed as he read. "Mission alert. Lemuria op? And... Cap is on it?"
Natasha's eyes widened slightly. "Same here. Two Deltas and Captain America? This must be big — something classified." She stood, tossing bills on the table. "Wonder what Fury's cooking up. Hijacked ship, probably needs heavy hitters."
Ted nodded, excitement flickering. "I'll head to the airstrip, get the jet prepped. You picking up Steve?"
"Yeah, he's probably done with his morning run by now. Meet you there—don't scratch that ride." She smirked, referring to his new bike.
They parted ways outside, the D.C. afternoon sun glinting off skyscrapers. Ted revved his motorcycle, weaving through traffic toward the Triskelion's secure hangar. The engine's roar matched his pulse—another mission, another chance to protect.
Natasha slid into her sleek car, heading to collect Steve. As she drove, she pondered the assignment. What kind of threat needs us all? Little did they know, shadows of Hydra lurked closer than ever, and this mission was just the tip.