Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is my first time writing, and first time publishing here. This is only the first chapter but it will develop along the storyline of the films. Please let me know what you think about the idea. Happy reading!
August 1940
The transport plane rotors thrummed in the cold wind in a deserted airfield near Paris. In the distance, sirens wailing could be heard. It was as if her body had gone completely numb, a loud ringing in her ears – she couldn't tell if it was from the shock and rush of escaping, or from the sirens.
"Christiane! Run!"
Christiane snapped out of her daze, seeing her older sister, Anya and their friend, Peggy standing at the door of the plane a few meters away as it started moving slowly to take-off. She could hear engines of cars approaching, the invasion of France at its peak chaos. Her feet, heavy, started running, pounding on the tarmac as she jumped into the plane just in time.
"Go!" Peggy pulled the door shut, shouting over to the pilot to accelerate.
"Buckle up, this is going to be a rough one" shouted the pilot. The plane suddenly lurched, climbing steeply upwards. The three women looked out the window, the motorcade of officers watching hopeless as the plane rose upwards into the sky, safe.
Anya looked out, her face emotionless as she put an arm around her sister, hugging her before turning to Peggy.
"Thank you." She sighed.
"For what?" Peggy putting her arm around Christiane to keep her warm.
"For coming to get us" Christiane whispered, putting her head on Peggy's shoulders.
The call from Peggy in London came only a few hours before. Anya, who was with the Resistance oversaw the translating of documents and intercepted codes from London and throughout other Resistance bases in France. She was the only one in the Marais apartment where they set up temporary base in that district where the Bougourd sisters lived a few streets away. The Carter and Bougourd families were family friends a few years back. Peggy, Anya and Christiane saw each other every year, with each taking turns spending time between England and France.
Anya had been working on deciphering codes freshly come in from the Resistance base in Alsace when the telephone rang, the shrill ring echoing in the quiet apartment.
"Oui?"
"Anya, is that you? It's Peggy."
"Good God, Peggy, how did you get this number?"
"It doesn't matter, you need to get out of France. Paris will fall tonight. I'm coming with an RAF buddy to get you. Meet us at the airfield in Bourg-La-Reine at 1800."
Peggy walked up to the cockpit, overlooking the cloud-line before turning around.
"You would have done it for me, we are family."
"Where are we heading to now?" Christiane looked from behind, keeping an eye on the airspeed and direction.
"Iceland, there's an American base there where we'll refuel and get some SSR personnel fleeing Europe also."
Anya looked from the window to the cockpit, peering at the twilight-blue night sky almost enveloping the aircraft.
"This SSR thing, do you think they will take me as an agent? What about Christiane?"
"I already put in a recommendation for you, to work alongside me. They need agents with your skillset, Anya. And you," Peggy turned to Christiane, now sitting next to Anya, "You're going back to school and finishing your high school diploma before we get into any business of how you'll save the world with us."
"I can hear a touch of sarcasm, Peggy."
"Christiane…" her sisters voice warned. She did not approve of her younger sister stubbornly talking back to her elders, even if it was just a year's difference.
"I'm serious Christiane, you finish the last year of high school and then you can join the SSR with us."
Iceland
The three got off the plane in the dark, an airman waiting for them with an oil lamp as they walked to the nearby tents set up next to the airfield. Christiane could smell coffee and bread in the air, her stomach grumbled. She dreamt of the time, before the tension of the war and invasion where she would run to the local bakery down the road to get a freshly baked baguette for her family.
"Agent Carter!" a voice shouted from behind them. Peggy turned around, saluting and standing still – "Colonel Phillips, sir"
"Before bringing your recruit to the mess-hall, you should have brought them for registration and briefing with me, do that now."
"Yes sir." Peggy turned around, apologetically looking at the sisters before they all walked out to the next tent.
"Name?"
Anya stepped forwards, "Genevieve Anya Bougourd and Christiane Gerard Bougourd".
"Birthplace?"
"Paris, France."
"Date of birth?"
"I was born on the 12th of July 1921, and my sister was born on December 24th 1922."
"Family?"
"Only us."
The lady taking notes peered up through her glasses, inquiring.
"Our father passed in 25, and our mother in 31."
Colonel Phillips overlooked the documents being written – "Make a note for Christiane Bougourd, her height is to an advantage for combat. That will be all for registration". He walked to the table, pointing to the women to sit before looking at Anya.
"Agent Carter recommended you very highly to me Miss. Bougourd and insisted that if you were to work with us, your sister come as well and that eventually after she finishes her high school education, she will also work with the SSR."
Anya cleared her throat, "Yes sir."
Christiane nodded, "Yes sir."
"Everything has been settled, once we arrive in New York, Agent Carter and you will be transported to our base, where you will receive further training and then embark on missions with Agent Carter. An apartment has been arranged for your sister, in Brooklyn of which you can visit every month for a weekend depending on your schedule. Finally," he looked to Christiane, "you, will be attending the French school in New York. That is non-negotiable. You will graduate and upon evaluation we will determine when you will start your training, is that clear?"
"Yes sir."
He looked back at Anya and Peggy, before standing up abruptly, "Good. Welcome to the SSR Agent Bougourd. Wheels up in 20 minutes."
New York
They finally arrived in front of the apartment building, completely in red bricks and trees that hung over the steps to the door. Peggy took out the keys, handing one to Anya and one to Christiane, opening the door. Christiane followed behind, trailing after with the luggage. They went up the stairs to the top floor, reaching a thick wooden door, using another pair of keys on the set Peggy had given to the girls. 3C. The apartment was small, quaint, yet cozy. The door opened onto the living room, with a window looking down onto the street. To the left were the kitchen, and a hallway that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. The apartment did not have much wall furnishings, apart from a few paintings.
"Well, this is home sweet home." Christiane sighed. It wasn't like the small and decorated apartments of Paris, but she could make it a home.
"As long as I get the bigger bedroom." Anya nudged her sister.
"We should probably get going, Anya." Peggy whispered. Only a few hours ago, they had escaped France, and it hurt her to have to separate the sisters. Peggy tiptoed to Christiane, giving her a big hug.
"Take care of my sister, Peggy", she whispered.
"I will, don't worry. She's a fighter. And remember, try to blend in, okay?"
She nodded. Anya put her hand on Christiane's shoulder, before the two sisters hugged each other tightly.
"Prends-soin de toi, et faire attention, Anya." (Take care of yourself and be careful, Anya)
"T'inquiete pas de moi, ma petite poullette. Je t'aime." (Don't worry about me, my little chick. I love you)
"Je t'aime aussi." (I love you too)
Anya and Peggy smiled at their little one - "We'll call tonight."
Christiane walked them to the door, giving them one last embrace before she closed the door. In the quietness of the apartment itself, she could hear cars honking in the distance, sounds of music from other apartments and boys playing baseball in the street below. It reminded her of her friends back in Paris where she played football in the streets with them. She turned on the radio, a melody of trumpets and piano intertwining before occupying herself with unpacking whatever belongings the sisters could bring with them.
Soon, it was noon and her stomach grumbled. She decided instead of staying home to go to a nearby café and look over the documents of her school left by the SSR.
By the time the soup and glass of water that she ordered arrived, Christiane had already located on the map where the closest subway station was to get to school in Manhattan, the best walking routes from the apartment to the station in the morning and what she planned as a walk through Central Park after school finished early on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and the best route from there back to Brooklyn was. She took up a whole sitting booth, with maps and documents splayed out on one side of the table, and her bowl of soup on the other. Pen in hand, she drew a line on her route, making a mental note to hang the map back at the apartment.
A voice suddenly interjected her thoughts as she looked up from the map to a small man with short blonde hair – "You really don't want to take that way, it's got a weird smell."
"-Oh?" she looked up at him.
"You'd want to take next street over, no smell there!" he smiled to himself.
"Thank you, I really appreciate it."
He smiled back "Are you new here?"
She laughed, "Is it really that obvious?" before looking down at the table before looking at him again, her arm outreached to him, "I'm Christiane - Christiane Bougourd."
His smile grew, "I'm Steve Rogers."
"Nice to meet you!" she glanced at the empty seats across from her, "Would you like to sit?"
"That'd be nice, thank you.", as he took up a menu and started browsing.
"Steve?" A voice shouted from behind.
Steve looked up, waving his arm, "Over here Buck!"
Christiane looked up at the smiling Steve before a tall figure emerged next to the table.
"Bucky, I want you to meet Christiane." Steve scooted over to let the man sit beside him.
As he sat down, smiling, she finally got a look at the taller man with brown hair. His eyes stood out to her, a brilliant cerulean blue. It reminded her of the color of glaciers from the French Alps. She reached her arm out, as did he – "Hi, I'm Christiane Bougourd."
He smiled back, his nose crinkling a little as he took her hand and shook, "James Buchanan Barnes, ma'am."
"Please don't call me ma'am." As she blushed, taking a sip of her water.
"Then in that case, call me Bucky.", he smiled back, taking the menu from in front of Steve.
"How long have you been here?" asked Steve, trying to straighten up after noticing the height of Bucky and Christiane even while sitting.
"About a few hours actually." she replied while folding her maps and documents away.
Bucky eyed the maps, his eyebrow raised, "From New York?"
"Actually from France.", her face suddenly going white, "We fled the invasion.", her eyes widening suddenly remembering the situation and where she was.
Steve noticed this, looking at Bucky quickly, "How about we show you around later?"
"That'd be very nice", snapping out of her brief realization, her lips turned upright to look to the two boys sitting across from her.
Steve looked at her intently before smiling to himself, "Can we give you a nickname?"
Christiane looked puzzled, returning to her normal cheery self, "A nickname?".
Steve chimed in, "Like...Chrissy? "
"Chrissy..", she whispered to herself, as it if testing it.
Bucky continuing, "It's coming from Christiane, doll".
Christiane laughed, eyes bright, "Sounds good to me." She looked back at Steve, his eyebrows now furrowed.
"How come you don't have a French accent?"
Bucky elbowing him, "Steve!"
"Ow!"
"My sister Anya taught me after school, she tried to emphasize on adapting our accents. But between you and me, I learnt it from hearing all your beautiful songs on the radio."
The taller one cleared his throat, "How about this doll, you teach us some French and we'll take you dancing with those tunes you talked about?"
"It's a deal!" She beamed smiling, her heart thrumming from excitement and happiness. It had only just been a few hours and she felt safe and at ease with the new surroundings.
The three new friends ate together, before walking Christiane back to her apartment.
Bucky saw her standing up, expecting her to be shorter as other girls were, but this girl stood almost as tall as him. Her green blue eyes stood out to him the most against her dark brown hair. She had a contagious smile. She smelt like lily flowers and clean linen. He knew right there and then, there was something special about her. He loved her enthusiasm, her eyes and the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed.
He put his hands in his pockets, ducking his head down to hide his smile as she laughed at one of Steve's jokes, and how she listened intently at his description of New York.
They stopped in front of the apartment building.
"Well, this my stop."
"Steve and I live a block from here, that reddish building over there in 2A so if you need anything, just knock."
"I suppose we'll be seeing each other very often then."