Steve sat on the table in one the examination rooms inside the Triskelion's medical facility. He was reminded of the days spent in Army recruitment offices trying to earn approval for enlistment, except this room was more sterile and the technology had changed over the last seventy years.

Despite the knowledge that the serum would mean certain clearance, he was hit with the all too familiar fear of being told that he wasn't good enough. When the door opened, he pushed his thoughts of rejection aside. Martha entered the room and Steve noticed that she had traded her armor and military gear for a pair of purple surgical scrubs and a lab coat. She looked more at home that way.

"Dr. Jones," Steve greeted her with a businesslike smile.

"Captain Rogers," Martha said his name with quiet tenderness that he wasn't used to hearing from doctors, but somehow reminded him of the gentle tones his mother used when she nursing him back to health. "You have an interesting history here," she commented as looked down at his chart.

"You mean the serum?"

"That too," Martha replied, meeting his eyes briefly. "But I was referring to your pre-serum history actually." She ran her finger over the paper. "Anemia, asthma, diabetes, color blindness, heart murmur, scoliosis, Scarlet fever, rheumatic fever, high blood pressure, angina, exposure to tuberculosis." She looked up again. "Have you suffered any symptoms after receiving the serum?"

Steve shook his head. "None to report, ma'am."

Martha nodded and made a notation on the chart. "Do you smoke?"

"Not anymore. Just the asthmatic ones before the serum," he informed her. "Haven't touched anything since then."

"Okay." Martha made another note. "Alcohol?"

"Rarely, though my body metabolizes it so fast, I doubt it has the same effect anymore," he informed her.

"No drowning your sorrows then," she joked.

Steve shook his head. "No, ma'am."

She chuckled softly and continued on. "Diet and exercise?"

"Balanced meals. Running in the morning. I try to get to the gym whenever I can."

"Are you sexually active?" Steve cleared his throat at the question and Martha looked up with a ghost of a smile. "No judgment," she assured him.

Steve knew it was part of the procedure, but it still was an intimate detail to share with a woman he had only just met. A beautiful woman at that, but she was also a doctor and her interest was purely medical in nature. He mentally chastised himself for being so uptight. "No, ma'am."

Martha made another note on his chart before setting her clipboard down and moved closer to him. "I need to check your vitals," she said as she slipped her stethoscope from around her neck.

Steve moved to remove his t-shirt and it was only after it was over his head and pulled half way down his arms that he noticed the bemused expression on her face. "Did I not have to…?

Martha quickly recovered, putting on a professional smile. "What's done is done." She reached for the blood pressure cuff and slid it into place on his left arm once his shirt was fully removed. She slipped her stethoscope into her ears and placed the head of the instrument against his arm before inflating the cuff with the pump. Steve glanced around, not really sure what to do with himself. He looked down when the hiss of air escaped the deflating cuff only to be reflated by her and then deflated completely. "118 over 70," she announced and made note of the reading.

Steve began to think about the numbers. Was that good or bad? Borderline maybe? His nerves may have affected it negatively. He needed to calm himself. "So…"

Martha draped her stethoscope around her neck again and took him by the wrist, placing fingers firmly in place to check his pulse. "Yes?" she looked at him expectantly before studying her watch.

"Have you always been British?"

The question broke her concentration. "Consistently since birth," she replied.

"No…I mean…UNIT," he clarified quickly. "Has UNIT always been British?"

"No," Martha answered with a smirk. "It has strong ties to the British government, but there are headquarters across the world." She looked at her watch again and Steve figured it wise to remain silent for the time being. "Do I make you nervous?" she asked once she released his wrist. He met her eyes and she smiled. "Your pulse is racing," she pointed out before marking his chart again.

Steve didn't answer immediately. Instead, he watched her slip her stethoscope in position once more and move in close to check his heart and lungs. "I haven't always had the best luck with these sorts of things," he confessed.

Martha paused just as she had placed the cold metal to his skin. Her smile quickly evolved from a teasing one to one of reassurance. She placed a hand on his shoulder and inclined her head towards him. It amazed Steve that one person could convey so much in such a small time frame without uttering a single word. "I doubt you have anything to worry about," she said eventually in a soothing voice. "You seem to be in peak physical condition. So just consider this a formality."

The corner of Steve's mouth twitched upward. "You're too kind, Dr. Jones."

Martha laughed softly and resumed her examination. "You say that now, but let's see if you feel the same when I start sticking you with needles."

"Never been a fan of needles," Steve admitted. "But I've survived worse."

"Undoubtedly," Martha said with a warm smile that Steve couldn't help returning. "Take a deep breath for me." Steve obediently drew in a deep breath through his mouth. "And let it out."

Steve pushed the air out in a slow steady stream as he stared ahead. He wished there had been more doctors like her before his time in the ice. Most of the military physicians came off as cold and clinical. When he was growing up, money was tight so visits to the doctor were few and far between so his mother usually relied on home remedies. But on the rare occasion that he did see a doctor, they usually seemed to only offer up a hollow sense of pity for him. Sometimes he joked that he only survived as long as he did out of defiance.

Martha was different though. He could tell that she didn't pity him. She seemed genuinely concerned in a way that Steve had only ever encountered from Dr. Erskine.

Her compassion was evident in not only her words, but through the kindness of her eyes, the gentleness of her smile, and the tenderness of her touch. To say that she had a pleasant bedside manner was an understatement. In fact, Steve was so happy to have her there to guide him through the process, that he was surprisingly disappointed when she finished her assessment.

"Is that it?" he asked as he pulled his shirt back on.

"For my part." Martha flipped through the pages of the chart making notes and checking to see that she hadn't missed anything. "A tech will be in soon to collect some samples from you. A few vials of blood so that we can do a chemistry panel and a complete blood count. A urine sample as well," she informed him. "Then another doctor will be in to complete the final stage of your physical examination."

Steve frowned. "A different doctor?"

"Yes," Martha replied with a furrowed brow. "I figured you'd be more comfortable with someone like Dr. Streiten."

"With all due respect to Dr. Streiten, if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to continue on under your care," Steve insisted.

Martha drew in air through her teeth and fiddled with the pocket of her lab coat. "How can I put this delicately," she began before falling into a thoughtful silence while she chose her words. "While I appreciate your vote of confidence, Captain Rogers, the next portion of the assessment is specifically tailored to a male subject," she explained. "As such, for the sake of modesty, you may be more comfortable with a male physician."

Steve allowed Martha's words to sink in before his eyebrows shot up. "Right," he said calmly. "Dr. Streiten will be fine." Martha fought back a smile and glanced down at her shoes before meeting his eyes again. "Will I see you again?" he asked. This time her eyebrows moved up in surprise. "For my results," he added quickly.

"I can only assume that someone from your organization will give you that information," Martha answered. "But as I said before, it's mostly just a formality."

Steve clasped his hands together and nodded. He studied his hands in an attempt to mask his disappointment at the prospect of not having a chance to get better acquainted with her.

Martha hugged her clipboard to her chest. "So barring an untimely dissolution of this joint venture between our agencies, I suppose the next time we'd have an opportunity to meet again would be in the field."

Steve looked up. "In the field?"

Martha nodded. "When I'm not conducting health evaluations, tactical combat casualty care is my area of expertise."

Steve smiled at the revelation. "So you're a combat medic?"

"Technically, I'm a civilian, but for all intents and purposes, I suppose you could say that I am, yes."

"Then I guess I'll see you in the field," Steve responded hopefully.

"Oh, I hope not," Martha replied. When he looked at her questioningly, she broke into a bright smile. "It's just that I'd hate for you to find yourself requiring medical attention, Captain Rogers," she explained.

Steve's smile returned. "Well if I do, Dr. Jones, I'm glad to know that I'll be in good hands."