VII

Friday


"It truly was an honor to work with you, Captain Rogers," Sharon said, smiling. Even though the smile wasn't real and he probably saw right through it, she thought it sufficiently masked her irritation with him. "Please do tell me if Hans, that Hydra contact, ever makes it out of his coma or not. I'm interested in what he has to say."

"You and the interrogators both. Of course, I don't know if Medical will tell me anything either, the leader of the recovery team was extremely quiet about Hans's condition," Rogers said, readjusting his pack. The two were on the tarmac at the little Virginian airport where Sharon was going to borrow a car and Rogers was waiting for the small S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft that would take him back to the helicarrier in Manhattan. They were both in generic S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms. "Don't forget to submit your report by 2300 hours tonight, the Director will want to read that," he added, looking down at her.

And he probably wants to compare mine to yours, just because he probably trusts you more than me and wants to catch me on a lie, Sharon thought sullenly. She wondered how thick the irony would be if the S.H.I.E.L.D. medics and recovery team refused to tell Rogers anything, seeing as he refused to tell her anything about how the prisoner transfer went (idiot had accidentally let that slip last night, something she hadn't realized was even going to happen). He didn't tell her much on that topic after.

"I'll submit my report after I get home and eat," she said, mindful to conceal the irritation in her voice. "Field operations go through the same routine too, you know."

"My apologies." He still sounded crisp, militaristic, and not apologetic. "Just keep in mind that Director Fury pays closer attention to report inconsistencies when it comes Special Operations. One little mistake could cause the deaths of hundreds."

Okay…

"Is Mr. Carter's camera going to continue transmitting even though we're not going to be monitoring it anymore?" Sharon asked. If so, she had her work cut out for the evening.

Rogers nodded. "Last night apparently provided plenty of evidence against Mr. Carter, so S.H.I.E.L.D teams are going to continue monitoring him while they write up the warrants for his arrest," he said. "In the meantime, chances are good that we'll begin the hunt for the Hydra spy within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks. I've already alerted Director Fury about it, and I plan to follow up on it once I get back to the helicarrier."

Thanks Dad. Sharon wished she could tell her father off for not only giving her position away at all, but to Hydra of all groups. The thing holding her back was that she technically hadn't been in that junkyard last night because that would mean she would have to admit to spying on him. Harrison wasn't supposed to know that she was following him: he thought she was pursuing a Hydra agent…

Unless…

She never specified the name of the agent. She could always pretend that Hans was the Hydra agent she was supposedly chasing. That would give her the excuse she was looking for to be at the junkyard last night.

"Well, good luck with the hunt for the Hydra spy," she said, smiling again as she noticed two agents – agents 19 and 20, both pilots – approaching the two of them. "I think your ride is here," she added, nodding in the pilots' direction.

"Thanks." Rogers gave her a small yet genuine smile and said, "I enjoyed working with you, Anne. Is there a chance we could meet up again outside of a mission or anything else work-related?"

Sharon silently applauded herself for not letting her jaw drop open in surprise. Where had that come from? "Oh, um, that sounds nice. I'd like that," she finally said, hoping to God that she wasn't blushing – she was more mature than that.

She was pretty sure that she wasn't blushing; Agent 20, whose life ambition was to create an awkward situation and embarrass others at every available opportunity, said nothing as he and Agent 19 approached. "Captain, we must leave now. The Director is expecting you in his office soon," 19 said while 20 waved a small greeting to Sharon, who waved back.

"Very well, ma'am." Rogers glanced at Sharon and nodded respectfully. "Agent Thirteen."

Sharon nodded back in a similar manner. "Captain Rogers, it has been a pleasure."

"Likewise."

Sharon took a couple steps back to allow them through, and simply watched as the trio walked back toward the waiting shuttle. She waited for a couple minutes more until the shuttle was taking off before she adjusted her pack and walked toward the garage to borrow a car for the weekend.


It took her almost an hour to get home.

Most of the delay came from her trying to find a place to change from her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform into civilian clothes; her mother would have a major fit otherwise because she made it quite clear from Day One that Sharon would be disowned if she accidentally led a pissed super-villain home.

That was actually one of very few stipulations that she never argued with her mother about.

It was almost eleven in the morning when Sharon finally arrived home. Almost missing the hidden driveway, she finally pulled up to and parked in front of the massive garage. Climbing out, she made sure the car was still in one piece before walking up the cobblestone path to the front door. She paused long enough to pick up her mother's neglected sunglasses from the porch swing before shouldering the front door open; her mother left the front door unlocked out of habit, probably not the best one…

"Mom? Aunt Peggy? I'm home!" she shouted before dumping her pack near the hall closet. Kicking her sneakers off, she started making tracks for the kitchen down the front hall.

"Sharon!" Her mother's voice rang loud and clear throughout the house. "Don't you dare go through the fridge, I'm still working on lunch!" Rapid footsteps came down the front staircase and down the hall to the kitchen, where Sharon was backing away from the fridge as though it was poisonous. "Sharon sweetie, your father said you were coming, but I didn't believe him up until now," Amanda said as she breezed into the kitchen and wrapped Sharon into a hug. "Especially with that jerk of a boss of yours…"

"Mom! It was Director Fury that allowed me to have this break," Sharon said, her voice muffled against her mother's dress.

Amanda sniffed in disdain as she pulled away. "Well, from the way your father and great-aunt go on about him when someone, namely your father, brings him up in conversation during dinner, Fury sounds like a jerk. Forgive me for my apparent ignorance," she said, fluttering over to the counter and readjusting the dishtowels.

Sharon cringed. She really had to get that camera off her father now; who knew what her parents said while that camera was rolling. Security was probably either cringing or getting a good laugh out of all this. "So where's Dad now?" she asked.

"Out and working late again. Worked really late last night too, didn't get home until past eleven-thirty. Go easy on him when he gets home, the last couple days have been stressful for him," Amanda said, turning to point at her daughter in warning. "He still has to go to New York on Monday for a lunch meeting with an associate. It's a four hour drive there and back, what a waste of time, money, and gas." She paused, eyeing Sharon. "Maybe you two can go to New York together."

"Sorry Mom, I'm borrowing the car, so I have to return it before Monday when I go back," Sharon said apologetically.

Amanda stopped to stare at her daughter. "Then drive that back to New York and take your father when you go," she said before reaching for the fridge.

"Mom, I can't take the car out of state! I have to return it to the airfield and if I don't, I'll get charged for its replacement," Sharon said, leaning against the counter.

"Honey, then just call your boss and tell him that you're driving your father, and will take the car to New York. Simple. Everyone goes home happy," Amanda countered. She frowned, and then asked, "I know you just got home, but have you seen my sunglasses around here?"

At this point, Sharon just backed off. Her mother didn't know (nor did she need to) that S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters were actually in a floating fortress hovering several thousand feet in the air above Manhattan, not safely on the ground below. Her mother had enough to worry about Sharon's job as it was, so Sharon didn't need to add to her mother's stress. "Here are your sunglasses," Sharon said, procuring the glasses from her jacket pocket. "You left them on the porch swing out front."

"Oh, thank you dear. I really must keep better track of these things, or your father is going to think I'm scatterbrained," Amanda said, plucking the glasses from Sharon's hands.

Might be a little too late for that.

"I'm going upstairs and drop my things off in my room. Where's Aunt Peggy?" Sharon asked, pausing in the doorway. She tried to squash the flutter of anxiety; what if her lie about Peggy's death was actually a reality and no one thought to tell her yet?

"Upstairs family room. And please actually unpack. Don't just dump everything on the floor," Amanda said over her shoulder before going back to her work on the counter.

Sharon just slipped out of the room after that.

To her pleasant surprise, the interior of the house hadn't changed much since her last visit. Numerous photographs and framed newspaper clippings lined the halls and the staircase walls as she headed up the stairs, a silent timeline that stretched as far as back as the 1930s, when the family's current matriarch had been a young girl.

Speaking of which…

"Aunt Peggy?" she asked, carefully shouldering the family room door open.

The woman in question was sitting next to the bay window overlooking the lawn and driveway below. Light blond hair had long turned to silver, and was wrapped in a neat bun. She was wearing a simple yet stylistic dress that seemed to blend in the shadows as Sharon slowly approached her, tempted to reach out and touch her just to confirm that she was indeed real and not a figment of Sharon's overactive imagination…

"Sharon?"

Sharon's face broke into a broad grin as she stepped into her great-aunt's embrace. "Aunt Peggy, it's so good to see you again," she whispered as Peggy squeezed her gently.

"It is good to see you sooner than we originally thought we would," Peggy replied, her voice soft yet strong at the same time. "I don't know what game Fury is playing, but for once I actually don't care," she added, brushing a few loose hair strands out of Sharon's face.

Sharon laughed lightly. "First Mom and Dad, and now you. So what if Fury lets me off for a couple days. I thought it was a test at first but apparently he was serious. I figured you guys would be happy that I was home," she said, settling down on the carpeted floor next to the window seat.

Peggy sighed. "We are definitely happy to have you back, sweetie," she said. "But it's rare that Fury ever does anything like this just to be nice." She looked down at Sharon, who was starting to feel anxious as she thought this over. "In fact, I remember working with Fury during World War Two, and I've seen him use a similar dismissal in order to root enemy spies out of the United States military and the French Resistance. And Lord, did it ever work! It got to the point where my superior officer was worried that he'd start charging twenty dollars for every spy he found. The idea was that once the spy was on leave, he would lower his guard and thinking that he got away with it, and he would start making mistakes." She looked down at Sharon and said, "You didn't do anything to aggravate him recently, did you?"

Yes. "No ma'am," Sharon said respectfully.

Peggy smiled and squeezed Sharon's hand gently. "Then you have absolutely nothing to worry about," she said before turning back to look across the lawn. "What have you been up to in S.H.I.E.L.D. recently? Anything interesting?"

Sharon smiled sheepishly. "Sorry Aunt Peggy, most of it is classified."

Peggy waved her apology off. "Don't worry sweetie, I know how it is," she said. "I used to be an intelligence agent for the French, remember?" She winked at Sharon, who grinned.

"Well, I can tell you that I saw the entire Avengers team a couple days ago," Sharon said after she thought about it for a few minutes. "They had crashed a special operation that Fury was running, and Fury and Iron Man had a row about it."

Peggy snorted. "Who won that one?"

"Fury I think. He and Iron Man haven't spoken to each other since then," Sharon said, leaning her head against Peggy.

"Then it must have been bad. I'm surprised that Fury hasn't labeled the Avengers as vigilantes yet," Peggy mused.

Well, that's because Captain America apparently diffused the fight before it got that bad, Sharon thought with a slight twinge of guilt. Aloud, she said, "Maybe that's because he acknowledges that the Avengers are helpful in bringing in the real bad guys."

"Or they remind him too much of his precious Howling Commandos and he's just trying to relive his glory days through them," Peggy said, rolling her eyes. "They were a very interesting bunch. The team was a jack-of-all-trades if you will. Saboteurs, soldiers, assassins, et cetera. Name it and they probably had a team member who did it. I still remember that they were favorites of the Allied Command. An extremely potent combination of forces would be when the Commandos and the Invaders teamed up together for all kinds of missions. It was exhilarating to watch them all in action," she said, a wistful expression crossing her face. She laughed softly and then said, "I think I have a few pages for them in one of the scrapbooks, I can't remember which…"

Sharon just smiled, stifling a frustrated sigh. Peggy didn't know that Fury was now looking for her, and both Sharon and Harrison were dangerously close to being arrested. Sharon wondered if perhaps she was reacting out selfishness, wanting to keep her relationship with Peggy such a secret that she wouldn't grant a celebrated war hero a simple wish.

Then again, that was another ballpark considering that she'd let her father drag her into a whole new mess of keeping Peggy's existence a secret from her boss and Captain America.

Well, at least she was learning something out of all of this. Like how to keep a lower profile, improve her lying, and stay out of other people's tangled messes.

"Other than Fury and all the confidentiality, is everything at S.H.I.E.L.D. going well?" Peggy asked.

"Yes ma'am. No issues to report whatsoever," Sharon replied with a smile. "How have things been going on at home?"

Peggy laughed softly. "Well, your mother is thinking about repainting the house again, and this time, Harrison doesn't have the energy to fight against her. So Amanda might really go ahead with the project. Harrison has been doing fine until the beginning of this week, when he started to stress out over something. He won't talk about it with either Amanda or me," she said, frowning lightly in concern. "He's always been able to talk to me about things like this…"

"Maybe it's something that has to do with work so he can't talk about it yet," Sharon suggested, looking up at her great-aunt.

"Either way, it's got your mother all worked up in a tizzy. You know how she likes to stick her nose into other people's business, especially when she's not wanted," Peggy said dismissively. She met Sharon's gaze and said, "Why don't you get settled in, dear? Go unpack and relax, and we can talk some more at lunch."

"Are you sure?" Sharon asked, slowly getting to her feet.

"Sharon! Did you just track mud all over my front hall?"

"Okay then, lunch," Sharon said, jumping at Amanda's yell and grabbing her pack.

Peggy just laughed. "At lunch," she promised.

Sharon left the room, but tiptoed down the hall in a vain attempt to avoid Amanda's wrath. She finally located the her-old-converted-into-a-guest bedroom, and carefully shut the door to keep her location as discreet as possible from her mother. Then she happily dumped her pack onto the floor while taking in the changes in the room. At one point in her life, it had been a source of comfort, but now it reminded her of a hotel guestroom without the bathroom, television, and the extra double bed.

Wonderful.

She had been in the process of searching for a clean pair of socks (she needed to wash her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform so she could have something clean to wear when she went back), when her phone began to buzz angrily from its perch on the nightstand. Picking it up, she absently asked, "Hello?" as she continued digging through her pack.

"Thirteen? It's me, Fifty-six."

Sharon groaned. "Bad time, Fifty-six. Lunch is almost ready. Can this wait?"

"No. The impossible happened: Sergeant Willis finally met his match!"

"Sergeant Willis isn't a god. He isn't invulnerable. He just hasn't been on field missions since his 'retirement'. So this is a big deal because…?" Sharon asked.

"Because this has never happened before!"

"No, it's because he hasn't been on a field mission since we joined. Stop shouting and just get to the point already, I kind of have my hands full and lunch is almost ready," Sharon said, finally locating a sock.

An impatient huff came over the phone. "Fury apparently sent him and Branson out the other day, and he met his match! I went down for morning calisthenics today, and the only instructors there were the assistants and the lower-ranked guys. It was the first time in ever that I went down and they weren't there. So I swung by Medical, and heard a couple interns talking. They said that Willis, Branson, and their team got ambushed. Willis and Branson took the brunt of the attacks."

Sharon slowly released a breath as she processed this. Since working for S.H.I.E.L.D. could be extremely hazardous to one's mental and physical health, it was impressive if a soldier could make it to old age with everything still intact. Willis must have been extremely overwhelmed if he had been hospitalized. "Is he and Branson going to be all right?" she asked.

"Willis is awake and pissed. Branson is still out cold from the anesthesia; he apparently had surgery when he got here. But they both should be fine."

For a few moments, neither woman said anything. Sharon stared at the wall as she tried to process everything. Willis's attack most likely had been an isolated incident, but something was nagging at Sharon's memory. "Hey Fifty-six, let me call you back when it's not so close to lunchtime so we can talk more about this," Sharon said. She also needed a few moments to think things through and figure out what felt wrong about the current situation (aside from the obvious) and proceed from there.

That would involve talking to her father though, and he wasn't getting home until late tonight.

Damn.

"Sounds good!" 56 said, momentarily startling Sharon. "Don't forget to call though, I've got more!"

"I won't. And keep an ear out about Willis and Branson for me, please!"

"No problem. Buh-bye."

Sharon hung up then. Tossing the phone aside, she abandoned the hunt for her socks and instead chose to lie back on the bed, trying to get a better sense of the puzzle-piece mess she'd been given.

Good luck, she thought grimly to herself.


A/N: Agent 19 is Bobbi Morse. Later known as the Avenger Mockingbird.

Invaders: A WWII superhero team that consisted of Captain America, Bucky, (Original) Human Torch, Toro (Torch's companion) Prince Namor, Union Jack, and Spitfire.