Chapter Nine: The Discovery Process.
"Natasha? Are you there?"
She was out of the bed, gun cradled in her hands, the safety flicked off before the inquiry was finished. Her eyes rapidly scanned the room, confirming that all was as it should be. It was a very quick process, since her quarters there were little more then a bed, a bureau, a small desk, and the large foot locker for her various weapons. She had identically equipped rooms in every major SHIELD command center throughout the world, plus apartments in SoHo, Paris, Kiev, and Singapore that were similar in layout, if some what better furnished. Natasha appreciated familiarity.
"Natasha?"
It was Phil. Taking a deep breath she engaged the safety and slid the gun back under her pillow. Then she turned to the door, observing the flashing green light of the intercom. Her irritation quickly changed to anger when she glanced at the clock on the wall above her desk.
"Damn it Coulson, it's four o'clock in the morning. Why are you here?"
"Fury," he grunted, in a tone of voice that clearly conveyed how displeased he was.
Muttering obscenities in Ukrainian, she yanked her yoga pants from the top drawer of the bureau and pulled them on. Then she unlocked the door. She was pissed, and not only because of lost sleep. She was mad at Coulson because he never seemed to care about Fury's bullshit and she intended to him call him on it. Instead, all she could do was stare at him after she jerked the door open, not because of the frown on his face, but because of what he was wearing.
"I'm sorry…" he started, but she quickly cut him off.
"Your suit," she blurted out, eyes wide with something like shock.
The normally razor sharp creases of his pants were nearly gone, and his jacket looked like someone had used it for a pillow. The last time she had seen him looking so…slovenly was five years ago, when they had been forced to spend three days inside the exclusion zone at Chernobyl. The frown on his faced became more pronounced, and he made a failing gesture with his left hand which prompted her to stand aside so he could enter her room.
"I know," he finally answered, then did a double take at the words written across the front of her shirt. "You can't have manslaughter without laughter?" He asked, with his frown suddenly replaced by a small smile.
"Clint says I need to lighten up."
"You also need to appear a little less intimidating to your fellow agents Natasha."
"Why do you think I only wear this to bed?"
"But then…why…?"
"Where the hell have you been Coulson?" She demanded, annoyed with his interest in her shirt.
"I have spent nearly twenty-eight of the last thirty-six hours in meetings that included three separate groups of scientists, four different security details, two civilian contractors, and a teleconference with the Council. The remaining time was spent in transit to these various conclaves along with eating a sandwich and a muffin."
"If you're trying to make me feel sorry for you, you're not even close."
"During that entire time I was in Fury's presence for all but twenty-seven minutes and nineteen seconds."
"I take it back. It really, really, sucks to be you."
"Did you know that Fury talks in his sleep? Loudly."
"Too much information Phil," she told him, because she really didn't want to know anything about what Fury was like when sleeping.
"Sorry," Coulson offered after taking a deep breath, his hands pressed down along the front of his jacket in a futile attempt to smooth out the wrinkles "Get dressed," he finally muttered, "I need to speak with you and Barton."
On the way to Coulson's office, she told him about yesterday, that Rogers had dreamed he was Johann Schmidt, how she had intervened by the simple expedient of picking his lock, and the conversation she had with him about his dreams. She went on to describe the fitness regime Rogers had been put through; two twelve mile runs with three hours in the pool sandwiched in between, two of which had been spent actually swimming. The last part had Coulson frowning again.
"Are you sure that was wise, considering what happened to him?" He asked, in a tone that indicated he thought it had been pretty damned stupid.
"It was running Phil."
"It's the swimming that bothers me Nat," he countered. "We're lucky he didn't suffer a setback." She hated it when he used his 'scolding' tone of voice on her. She wasn't Barton.
"Set him back from what? Rogers has been sitting in his room with nothing to do but draw friends who are dead, or read novels from the 1930's. No wonder the man has nightmares. He needs to get out, do things, start learning about stuff. You need to stop worrying that you're some how going to break Captain America. He's a pretty tough guy."
"I hope you're right," he said, in a tone of voice that she wasn't used to hearing from him. Phil Coulson was always confident. In the field he always knew what to do, especially when the plan broke done and it was all going to hell. All she heard now was doubt.
"I did have a plan," he continued, sounding almost defensive, which was another surprise for her. "Not that it matters any more. I just thought Captain Rogers should be allowed some time to come to terms with what happened to him. I think that's the least we owe him."
"What are you talking about?"
"Director Fury has decided that things are not moving forward quickly enough concerning Captain Rogers."
"Damn it," she muttered. It wasn't really that much of a surprise, since Fury always thought he knew better, despite the FUBAR outcome of his first scheme to deal with Rogers.
"It's alright Tasha," Phil said, sounding more like himself. "I might not like it, but he's correct. We don't have the time to do things the way I wanted to."
"What the hell is going on Coulson?"
"Doctor Selvig has achieve a breakthrough. At 1934 Mountain time the day before yesterday, the Tesseract generated a positive energy reading for 17.254 seconds."
Which was not what Natasha had expected to hear. After Howard Stark retrieved it from the North Atlantic in 1949, he had worked on the thing nearly flat out for five years before giving up, and in the years since no one had done any better. The Tesseract had shown itself to nothing more then a blue inert cube. As of five months ago, after decades of research and boat loads of money, they didn't even know what the damned thing was made of. Now suddenly it was functional again, a possibility that had seemed increasingly remote until the arrival of Asgardians on earth. While she knew how desperate Fury had been to find some means of countering the next alien incursion, all she could think of were the uses the infernal device was put to seventy years ago.
"So what's Fury going to do?"
"It's complicated," Phil responded with a shrug. "I'd rather not have to explain it twice."
"Barton's going to be pissed that you woke him up for this."
"Since when has that been a consideration."
He didn't say anything more and she didn't press. When they got to his office, Barton was already there, sitting in the chair behind Phil's desk, playing Sudoku on his phone. They've both had the pass code to Coulson's office for years, but she didn't think it was right to use it accept for emergencies. Clint looked up from his phone and frowned.
"What the hell Phil, you look like shit."
"Shut up and get out of my chair Barton," Coulson demanded, in that particularly bland voice he used when he was not amused. Clint scrambled out of the seat without complaint. Natasha still elbowed him in the ribs after they had settled in the chairs in front of Phil's desk.
"Hey…what was that for."
"Do I need a reason?"
"Children, please pay attention," Coulson scolded, looking at them both in turn, before settling his gaze firmly on Clint. "I have a lot to tell you and not much time to do it."
"What's this all about Phil?" The archer asked, his eyes still on Romanov.
"I need to brief you about the Tesseract."
"At four forty-five in the fucking morning?"
"Director Fury insisted that you be read in immediately. At this moment, he is meeting with Hill in his office to do the same thing."
"Son of a bitch," Barton grunted, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand. Then he frowned and shot a look at Natasha. "I thought you told me everything."
"What exactly do you know about it Clint?"
"Pretty much everything I do," Natasha answered. Which wasn't really much of a surprise for Phil. Coulson looked at Romanov and she just smiled.
"He wanted to know about Rogers."
Phil shifted his gaze to Barton. "Tell me."
"That it was Hydra's secret weapon when Rogers was fighting them. That they used it to juice up weapons we still can't match now. That it's pretty much been a paper weight since Howard Stark fished it out of the ocean."
"That's good intel for the most part, except for the last item." Phil commented. Baron in turn looked at Natasha, who shrugged.
"It was true when I told you Barton. Things have changed."
"And Uncle Phil is here to tell us."
"I could just send you to Fury," Coulson responded with what Clint had taken to calling that evil little smile of his.
"No," Barton said immediately, "I'd much rather hear it from you."
"Then please stop talking and listen," Coulson grumbled. Then he sat back in his chair with that unfocused look that told Clint he was going to have quite a bit to say. "I suppose I deserve this," the older man said after maybe half a minute. "Since it was my suggestion that we recruit Doctor Selvig."
He'd been impressed with both Selvig and Doctor Foster during his admittedly brief interaction he said, by way of an explanation. Coulson suggested that some fresh eyes might be useful in regards to the Tesseract, and after some consideration Fury had agreed. In the end the Director decided on Selvig. Coulson thought Foster was a better choice, but despite the fact that she was a genius (or maybe because of it, considering how well Stark had worked out), Fury didn't trust her to keep her mouth shut. Within days, Selvig had moved to SHIELD's Dark Energy facility and was working on the problem, or at least that's what the man had said he was doing. What Coulson saw was someone who spent hours staring at the object of his research when he wasn't holding muttered conversations with himself in Norwegian. In hindsight, they probably should have found a translator.
In any case Coulson conceded that he had kept those concerns to himself, because Selvig had a theory and the other scientists employed by SHIELD were excited about it, even though they couldn't really follow the calculations. The Tesseract did not generate energy Selvig declared. Rather, it was a conduit, drawing power from…somewhere. Exactly where was something Selvig didn't really know, or at least that's what he claimed. Despite the excitement over the theory, no one was quite sure what the next step was supposed to be, until Coulson sent Selvig interior images of the plane where they found Captain America.
Included were dozens of pictures of wreckage from the machine that Schmidt had used to siphon energy from the Tesseract. Within twenty-four hours Selvig produced detailed schematics of a device he claimed would do the same thing. During the ten days that it took to put the thing together, Selvig almost never left the room. When they finally turned the machine on thirty-six hours ago, the cube generated positive a energy reading for the first time in nearly seventy years. Then the machine exploded. At least no one was hurt he concluded, and Selvig was already planning what he believed was a bigger and better device.
"It doesn't sound like you're happy about this," Natasha observed, when Coulson was done talking.
"How could I be given our lack of knowledge?"
"Why is Selvig the only one who understands what is happening?" Barton asked.
"Exactly. Other then the explosion, I have no objection with the results. My concern is that none of the other scientists working with him comprehend how Selvig got to this so quickly. The ones I talked to are not happy about that. Now this could just be professional jealousy, but I think we need to find out what's going on."
"We're going to have to keep a much closer eye on Doctor Selvig," Romanov mused, drumming her fingers on Coulson's desk.
"Which is why Director Fury is reading Agent Hill into Project Pegasus. She will be assuming direct supervision of the program."
"Are you sure Hill is the right person for this Coulson?"
"What are your concerns Natasha?"
"She's never worked with scientists before. She can't order them around like they were junior agents."
"Obviously Director Fury and I are aware that Agent Hill can be some what abrasive. More importantly so is Maria. She will understand that a different approach is required with the personnel on this project. The bottom line is that Hill gets things done, which is really the thing that matters."
"She won't get anything done if she alienates Doctor Selvig."
"True. Which is why there will be someone on site who reports directly to Fury and myself. That will be you Barton."
"Come on Coulson, Hill hates my guts."
"No, she doesn't. You merely irritate her."
"Which is how she pretty much feels about everyone," Romanov added. "So stop whining about Hill."
"You're not the one who has to go back to New Mexico Nat."
"That fresh desert air will do you good," she replied, turning her attention to Coulson. "So what just what am I supposed to be doing while Clint is revisiting his favorite vacation spot?"
"For now, I'm going to need your continued assistance with Captain Rogers."
Natasha briefly fixed her attention on Coulson before turning to Barton. "Would you mind taking Rogers out for his run?"
"This is bullshit Nat," he grumbled, but when Coulson nodded he got up and headed for the door.
"You'll have the briefing materials on your server in an hour Barton," Coulson stated.
"How long before I leave?"
"I would say a week." Barton looked at both of them, then shook his head in disgust and left.
"What do you wish to know Natasha?" Coulson asked, leaning back into his chair.
"Assuming Selvig doesn't blow up his next project, what does Fury plan to do with it?"
"Based on SSR files and our own research, we believe the Tesseract to be an almost limitless source of energy. As for how that energy is to be put to use, there is already a paradigm for us to emulate," Coulson stated in an even voice.
"I didn't know that Hydra was the new organizational model," Natasha sneered.
"While there is certainly no intention of adapting that organizations unfortunate goals, at the moment we have neither the time nor the expertise to reinvent the wheel."
"I can't believe you're agreeing to be part of this Coulson."
"Granted that I don't like the idea of following Schmidt's lead," Coulson said with a frown, "it really is the simplest path to follow. Phase one would be to follow up on Doctor Selvig's breakthrough. If that does lead to something, then we go to Phase two."
"Making weapons from the power supplied by the Tesseract."
"Giving us the means to protect our world from new threats Agent Romanov," Coulson retorted calmly. "Which is something that we have needed since Puente Antiguo."
How could Natasha possibly disagree with that? She read the reports, talked to both Coulson and Barton about what happened there. Whether Thor and his friends were aliens or gods really was beside the point. She knew from his report that Coulson believed that they were friendly, but nobody wanted to be dependent on the goodwill of beings who had in the past accepted veneration from humans as their due. As things stood now, there was nothing in SHIELD's arsenal that would stand any chance against them, with the possible exception of nukes. Weapons powered by the inexhaustible energy of the Tesseract could be just what they needed to level the field. It was all perfectly rational that Fury would want to push this, except…
"What does Rogers have to do with this?" She demanded, because that part of the equation just didn't add up.
"With Doctor Selvig's project? Nothing." Coulson replied, with a minute shake of his head. "At one point toward the end of our trip, Director Fury mused that Captain Rogers would be in a position to provide invaluable expertise on the use of weaponry powered by the Tesseract. I quickly disabused him of the feasibility of that notion."
"So why are you staying here while Hill gets sent to New Mexico?"
"Natasha, I am not, nor will I ever be administrative material. That is the reason why Agent Hill as been placed in charge Project Pegasus, and why she was named Assistant Director of SHIELD."
"I thought that after Thor made his appearance, mythological code names would be discarded."
"Just the Norse ones. At least for now. As for Captain Rogers, right now I can only speculate."
"Fury didn't tell you?"
"No, and I'm glad that he didn't."
"Why would…"
"Because if I knew what Fury had in mind, I'd have to lie to Captain Rogers," Coulson interrupted impatiently. "Right now it's important that I gain his trust."
"You're going to eventually," she accused, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Perhaps." He shrugged with a frown. "But for now, I'm going to allow myself the illusion of honesty." He paused for a moment to rub his forehead, and Natasha was struck by just how tired Phil was. "Besides, I didn't really need Fury to tell me what he wants the Captain for."
"The Avengers Initiative?" She mused in a doubtful tone of voice.
"You know the boss. He always likes to have options. Besides, we don't even know if Selvig can make this thing work."
"I thought Fury shut Initiative down months ago."
"He did, though it wasn't his idea."
"So the Council? I can't say that I blame them. I never thought it would work Phil."
"Stark will always be a loose cannon, to say nothing of the inclusion of an alien of uncertain loyalty and a man who can't even stub his toe without putting a city at risk. None of them exactly inspire confidence, which is why in my opinion the boss wants someone who does."
"If that's what Fury thinks then he has lost it. He's not ready for this Phil."
"I know that Natasha. I also know that without some kind of purpose, Captain Rogers will probably never be able to adapt fully to his new situation."
"So that's what? Are you saying that we'd be doing him a favor getting him involved in Fury's bullshit?"
"That's what I tell myself," he muttered, his shoulders slumped. "Right now, none of that matters. Right now all I care about is making sure Captain Rogers gets himself right."
"So how are we going to do that?"
"We need to get him talking with Doctor Jennings. We need to find out whether Captain Rogers difficulties are physiological or psychological in nature."
"Alright. I don't think he'll go along, but we should try. What else?"
"Captain Rogers needs an introduction to some of the more basic tech. I was thinking a tablet and a phone would be a good start."
"I am not going to explain the internet to someone who doesn't know how to work an electric can opener."
"Of course not. I had you penciled in for hand to hand and weapons training."
"Phil…"
"Relax. That's not going to be right away. I think you were right about Captain Rogers needing to get out into the real world. And not just on scenic runs around Manhattan."
"Fury isn't going to like that."
"Leave the boss to me," he said, pulling a file from his desk. "I've been working on this for the past few days," he told her, handing the file over. "There are some problems of course, but that has more to do with trying to fit the square peg that is Captain Rogers into the round hole of anything resembling a normal 21st century life."
"So you didn't even try," Natasha commented after skimming through the first few pages.
"Most of it is normal," Phil countered with a shrug. "At least for someone with a military back round. People tend to let a veteran slide on explaining the details if that are reticent to do so."
"So how do you explain his lack of familiarity with…everything?" The small smile that formed in response was enough to set off alarms inside her head. Sometimes Coulson could be too cute. "What did you do Phil?"
"I considered some of the more typical tropes in conjunction with Captain Rogers status as an orphan."
"Please tell me you didn't use raised in the Amazon by indigenous tribes."
"That would require an inordinate amount of briefing time. Captain Rogers was home schooled by his mother's sister after the death of his parents in a traffic accident. She wasn't religious, but nevertheless believed that such things as the internet and television to be highly corruptive to young minds."
"Doesn't sound too bad, except that I don't think Rogers is going to be able to sell it, if someone starts asking him?"
"Then the obvious answer would be is not to allow such a situation to occur."
"What about Ziva?"
"That is an unfortunate complication," Coulson answered with a small sigh.
"Maybe not."
"Natasha…"
"Relax Phil. I don't do matchmaking, unlike some people I know," she answered with a smile.
"Are you ever going to stop throwing that in my face?"
"I don't discard any weapon that I might need."
"I have repeatedly promised I wouldn't do it again," he grumbled, running a hand over his face. "Talk to me about Captain Rogers and Ziva."
"He needs to meet people who aren't working for SHIELD Phil."
"It won't take long for her to figure out that something isn't right with him."
"So? It's not like Ziva can't keep a secret."
"Damn it Tasha, I'm not going to use Ziva like that," he growled, suddenly red faced with anger.
"You mean like you tried to use Barton on me?"
"It wasn't like that and you know it," he snapped back. After several deep breaths he went on. "I just thought…you were attracted to each other, don't deny it. I just thought you'd be good for each other."
"Exactly."
Coulson and Romanov had ambushed him at lunch, just as he tucked into his last piece of pie. The food was another thing he liked about this new time. Plenty of it, mostly better tasting then anything he'd eaten in the 1930's (except for when Ma had the time and money to make something special). He was feeling pretty good, which had more to do with nearly six hours of dreamless sleep then the meal he had just consumed. When he thanked Agent Romanov for her idea she nodded, then told him that they needed to talk to him about something important. They ended up in a small room with a round table, some more uncomfortable chairs and a burbling coffee pot, which Coulson made a beeline for. They offered him some, and when he said no the other man looked relieved. Then Romanov said something about becoming another person.
"Why would I want to do that?" He asked, trying to play it off as casual.
"Because you're not supposed to be alive," Natasha answered. "Think about it Rogers," she added with a trace of annoyance. "How would you explain a person reappearing almost seventy years after everyone thought they were dead? Especially considering the condition you're in."
"Hadn't really thought of it that way," he muttered, his big right hand rubbing at his forehead. "So how does this work?"
"The first step will be to establish your persona."
"Persona? Sorry Agent Coulson, but I don't know what that is."
"SHIELD's term for an identity that an agent assumes for long term undercover work. Think of it as a secret identity."
"You mean like Superman?"
"Yes. Only it will involve quite a bit more then a pair of glasses."
"Ok Agent Coulson, why don't you tell me who I'm supposed to be."
The way Coulson explained it, he was supposed to be just who he was. Same name ('it's simpler that way'), same parents (ditto), same Brooklyn birth place ('your accent is slight, but noticeable'), same military background ('straightforward is always best, when possible'). Of course there were plenty of things that had to change. For one thing, his date of birth was now 1988. He was still an orphan (both parents killed in a car accident), but instead of going to an orphanage, he had been given over to his mothers sister, who's name was Winona Barnes.
"Her name was Winifred," Steve corrected, his voice hard. "I thought this was supposed to be a fake identity, something you made up."
"It is. In your case, I thought that including familiar people would be helpful. If the name change bothers you…"
"I don't…I just wasn't expecting this."
Bucky's mom was a painful memory for him. While it had been Buck who'd asked Winifred Barnes if Steve could come live with them, she was the one who had said yes, accepting him into the family even though Bucky's dad was not happy with the idea of adding another mouth to feed, something Steve understood, even at the age of sixteen. Work was hard to come by, and they already had four children to provide for. He knew what kind of sacrifice it was to bring him home from the orphanage, but Winifred never treated him like that. If he heard the occasional argument late at night between Mr. and Mrs. Barnes over the cost of his medicine, she never gave him the impression that he wasn't wanted. She treated him just like her own children, which meant that she demanded his grades to be good, that his chores got done, and when he sat down to dinner that his face and hands were clean. Steve was required to toe the line just like everyone else, something that he expected.
What he hadn't counted on was that she would read to him when he was sick, hold his hand when he was waiting to see the doctor, and tell him how proud she was when he brought back good grades. She did the kind of things for him that a mother did for her child, and for a few months that confused him. Gradually he realized that even without an official adoption, Mrs. Barnes considered him to be her son. That was something he'd never hoped to have again, which made that day she stepped in front of a streetcar one of the saddest of his life. They had no right to use her memory like that. When he said this Romanov just glared at him.
"Phil is trying to make this easy for you Rogers. I really doubt your reaction would be as convincing if he'd used the name of someone you didn't know."
"We're done here," Steve growled, lurching to his feet. He was almost to the door before Coulson called for him to wait.
"I apologize if I offended you Captain," he said in a quiet voice. "But let me assure you that all this is necessary."
"I don't think it is. I get that you want me to be a secret, but I don't see a reason for it."
"SHIELD has spent nearly sixty years lying about you Rogers," Romanov declared in a flat tone of voice. "That's a lot of time and resources devoted to making sure no one knows the real story of Captain America."
"Why…what gave you the right to do that?" Steve demanded, stunned by her statement
"SHIELD is following the policy instituted at the end of the war Captain," Coulson responded, all the while glaring at Romanov. "One that was established by the SSR and implemented under the direction of Margret Carter. It was decided that any and all information regarding Hydra's activities would be suppressed."
"Peggy?" He whispered, his mind rebelling against the idea that she would want to hide what they had done. There was only one reason he could think of. "Damn," he muttered, swiping a hand across his face. "Because of the cube."
"Correct. No one knew what had become of it." Coulson told him. "Under those circumstances, keeping it a secret was deemed the safest course of action."
"So you're saying that no one knows what really happened? That people have no idea what we had to do to stop that lunatic from incinerating the East Coast?"
"At the time, it was felt that it would be impossible to explain what actually happened without referring to the device Hydra had used to make the attack possible."
"Don't worry Rogers, Margret Carter made sure that you were not forgotten," Natasha added in a cool voice. "The operations you ran against the Germans are part of the history…"
"You think I really give a damn about something like that Miss Romanov," Steve interrupted with a sneer. "My men risked their lives to stop Schmidt. Everyone of them was a hero. And now you're telling me that no one even knows what they did."
"Your men were not forgotten Captain," Coulson answered him. "Even though their exploits against Hydra couldn't be told, the Commandos did more than enough against the Nazi war machine to be counted as heroes. Peggy Carter made sure of that, even if they couldn't be remembered for everything they did." He picked up a small stack of files and walked right up to Steve.
"I told you before they had the chance to live good lives because of what you did. The proof of that is right here," he said, offering the files to Steve.
He muttered his thanks and looked down at what Coulson had given him. There were five folders, one for each of his men who had survived the war. He flipped open the one on top and the image of Gabe Jones stared back at him. Steve took a deep breath in an attempt to master his emotion.
"Are any of them alive?"
"I regret to say no. However, Jim Morita and Gabe Jones were buried at Arlington. I happen to be traveling to Washington this coming weekend. If you'd like, you could come with me and pay your respect."
"Yeah…I'd like that Agent Coulson," he answered slowly, looking down again at the papers the other man had given him. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go back to my room and read these."
"Of course. Perhaps if I drop by after dinner, we could talk about any questions you might have."
"Sure."
The moment Steve closed the door, Coulson turned to look a Natasha. "What the fuck was that?" He demanded, his face abruptly gone red.
"I knew I could do it," she offered with a smug grin.
"Do what?"
"Get you to use that word in a conversation."
"What are you talking about, just last month…"
"That doesn't count. Most people curse when someone fires a rocket propelled grenade at them."
"Fine. Now would you just answer my question."
"Were you ever going to tell him?"
"Yes," he answered, after drawing a long breath. "I just don't think he needed to know right now."
"Stop trying to spoon feed him the bad news Phil," she responded briskly. "Rogers can handle anything you throw at him."
"Perhaps you should consider what happened to him," he countered in an angry voice. "No one has ever had to deal with what Captain Rogers had been through."
"You mean being cut off from everything you've ever known," she said in a distant voice. "No one had to coddle me when I came to SHIELD. I wouldn't let them."
"I did try," he answered with a small grin. "I'm not saying you're entirely wrong Tasha. I just wonder why you appear to be actively trying to piss the man off."
"Because that's what Rogers needs."
A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed. Please let me know what you think of the latest offering.
Irish. Skye: Steve will be meeting Gibbs very soon.
AngusH: Glad to hear my writing has improved. I'm going back over the chapters to tidy things up.
Marcus Rowland: Didn't know the spork was around for so long! Apparently Steve didn't either.
StarKiss666: Ziva is certainly a very dangerous person, and that fact will be incorporated into this story.
