Prof. Gabriel Jones' Home
Cedar Park, Philadelphia
Friday, Late Afternoon
"…So, I told her her boyfriend's been looking for her, and then I came here."
Steve took a sip of the chocolate milk that Noreen had made him as he sat by the old piano in Gabe's study. Noreen, Gabe's live-in-nurse, had decreed that there would spirits for Gabe for the time being, and as such no one else would either while inside the house. She leaned with her hips to the couch's arm rest, while her employer was in his favorite chair by the standing lamp and the record player, the bottom half of his body covered with a thick blanket.
"And that's it?" Gabe asked.
"Pretty much." Steve said with a nod.
"Do you know if she went to meet him?" Noreen asked.
"No. She probably did, though."
"Well, he seems like a real piece of work. I'm sure she's going to turn him down."
Steve shrugged.
"I don't know. I think she still has feelings for him. Besides, he just got back from captivity."
I don't follow."
"Well, um…" Steve said and cleared his throat, "Women are crazy for men who'd been recently in harsh conditions, aren't they?"
Gabe didn't know whether to laugh or wince as he averted his eyes from Noreen and drank his tepid Green tea. Noreen's eyes narrowed as she tried to get her head around what she thought was a foolish notion held by someone she liked and admired, trying to figure out if there was any way she could have misunderstood him.
"You don't honestly believe that, do you?"
"Well, uh," Steve mumbled, realizing he was about to say something typical of himself, "I agree that it's a bit generalizing, but I've seen it happen. I mean, um, when we got back from Italy, the Howlers had girls throwing themselves at them like there was no tomorrow. Didn't you, Gabe?"
Gabe raised a protesting hand and said,
"Don't drag me into this, Cap."
Noreen exhaled as she shook her head and set down her now empty coffee mug.
"No, Steve. Just… No."
"I meant no offense."
"I know you didn't. But you need to realize there's lame-brained women with the emotional sense of teenagers and then there's most women."
"Sorry." Steve said sheepishly and drank from his chocolate.
"You are forgiven." Noreen said as she got up and approached him, "More cocoa?"
"Yes, please." Steve said as he handed Noreen his mug. She left the study, leaving the door open, and disappeared down the hall toward the kitchen.
Now by themselves, Gabe turned toward his old friend, and asked, without preamble,
"Are you alright?"
While others saw a simple, uncomplicated man, Gabe saw someone else. It was somewhat ironic that it was because of that that Gabe understood Steve better than most.
When he posited that most simple of question, Gabe could notice Steve tense in the shoulders momentarily before smiling and shrugging. The silence that followed was a few seconds too long enough to be revealing, and then he said,
"It's not like I wanted to get married or anything."
His words, while Gabe didn't doubt them, betrayed something he didn't know the Captain to feel very often; the sting of disappointment
"Well," Gabe said, "Chances are neither does she. You never know what tomorrow brings, might still be hope."
"I don't think so." Steve said as he shifted uncomfortable in his seat, "She's got her own soldier now. I was just filling in. I'm going to leave it where it is. I'm moving on, I think that's for the best."
"Alright, fine." Gabe said, intending to return to the subject at some point, "But remember how jealous you used to get over Peggy and Howard?"
Steve smirked. Memories of liberty in London coming back to him, Howard in his loose clothes and suspenders making suggestions that sounded sleazy merely by virtue that Howard Stark was saying them.
"I'm still not convinced he wasn't after her, at least a little."
"Oh, he was." Gabe said and chuckled as he saw the astonished look on Steve's face. Suspecting was one thing, but knowing was another.
"She just never gave him the time of day. At her wedding, he got drunk and tried to sock the groom, but missed by a mile and ended hitting his head on the drinks table."
Steve shook his head in amused bewilderment.
"Let's never speak of that again."
"Okay. Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Remember my advice? That you should look for something about your young lady that was different from Peggy?"
"Yeah." Steve nodded, "That was pretty smart, actually. Of course, I didn't get far enough to find out. She's tough, British and she kind of tends to get mad at me. They're mostly alike, far as I can tell. Pointing that out was what started this mess." Steve said, and peeked into the hallway to see Noreen approach with a tray, "Let's change the subject."
SHIELD Headquarters, Jacob Kirby Building
Midtown, Manhattan
Friday, Evening
Sam leaned with his back against the mirrored side as the elevator descended down to the lobby carrying him, Sharon and Jimmy Woo.
"Did you hear about the callsigns for all employees in the grade of Special Agent and above?" Agent Woo asked with a yawn.
"Numbers is what I heard." Sharon said.
"Numbers?" Woo repeated, "Like you'd be called Agent 99?"
"Or something like that. Can't see it happening, myself."
"True. Agent 69 would be a walking joke. No one would want to be Agent 13, either, or everyone would and everyone who did get to be would resent them for it."
"I'd like to be Agent 33." Sam mused as he rubbed his chin.
Woo nodded in understanding.
"Pat Ewing." Woo said, and Sam nodded in confirmation, "You're a scholar and a gentleman, Sam Wilson."
Reaching their destination, the three disembarked and headed for the glass doors at the front.
The ground was slick from when it rained earlier, but the cloud had parted to provide something approximating a marginally sunny day. Woo bade the other two a farewell as he took a walk up 46th Street, before Sam stopped to face Sharon. Speaking in a hushed tone, he said,
"Coulson came though."
Sharon nodded.
"We've got the surveillance?"
"Yeah. We can't take it up to the office, so I'm going to go over it at my place. You coming?"
"Er, sure. Just, um…"
"Plans?"
"Yes, actually." Sharon answered carefully.
Sam resisted the urge to glare, knowing full well who the plans involved. The past couple days since returning from Tokyo were hectic, spent with long hours at headquarters, opting the first night to sleep at the office, leaving no time for her to sort things out with Clay.
"Didn't meet up with Sif last night?" Sharon asked pointedly. This time, Sam did briefly glare before raising his chin and saying,
"Yeah. She's going back to Asgard, said to look me up next time I'm there. Summer vacation is over."
"Oh." Sharon said, a little guilty, "Sorry about that."
"It's okay. It was fun while it lasted."
"Right." Sharon said, looking at her feet, "I'll be there soon enough. Just get started without me."
"Yeah, sure." Said Sam as he nodded, "Take your time."
She gave him a little awkward smile before she walked away with a wave and headed in the direction of Steranko's bar.
With a sigh, Sam started in another direction, to a nearby carpark. He hadn't taken more than a couple of steps before he felt the phone in his jacket vibrate. Producing it with little though, he was slightly surprised to see an unregistered number he recognized originated from Philadelphia. He pressed answer, and put it to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Agent Wilson?" came a gravely voice on the other end.
"This is he. Who's speaking?"
"Gabriel Jones. Remember me?"
Sam stopped in his tracks. He'd met the Professor, a founding member of SHIELD, once before, but getting a call from him surprised him as much as a call from Patrick Ewing would have.
"Of course." He answered eventually, belatedly following with, "…Sir."
"How's it going, son?"
"Oh… You know."
"I don't, obviously."
"Well, I'm on my way home. How'd you get this number?"
"I had my nurse look it up on Captain Rogers' phone while he wasn't looking."
"That's cute. Why?"
"Oh, I just thought we could talk."
"About Steve?"
"You're a quick one, aren't you?"
"Does he need anything?" Sam asked with concern, "You want to put him on?"
"He's fine, he's already left. However, I understand things haven't gone well with him and your partner, the object of his interest."
"Well, it's complicated," Sam said as he stood by a traffic light, waiting for the crosswalk sign to switch on.
"And frankly, their business and their business alone."
"Wilson, for shame…" Jones said and chuckled, sounding almost like marbles in a tin can, "You're a secret agent! There's no such thing as not-your-business."
"Maybe." Sam conceded as he crossed the street with a crowd of fellow Manhattan pedestrians just getting off word, "But there's nothing to talk about, really. It ended before it began. It wasn't meant to be."
"Nothing's meant to be unless we mean it to be."
"Well, that's fine, sage wisdom, Professor."
"Perhaps there's some way we can coax them back together."
"You serious?" Sam asked, turning a corner on the other side of the street that took him into the car park.
"Do you think I would have called otherwise?"
"No."
"Well, then, maybe we can-"
"Sorry. That was a no. As in 'No, there isn't a way to coax them together'. Don't get me wrong, I wanted those two chuckleheads to get together, but that earth has been well and truly salted."
"Listen…"
"Sharon's pulled out, and Steve has made his piece with it. End of."
"Sharon isn't about to find a better man than Steve."
Sam sounded something between a grunt an exhalation as he walked up to his car and patted his pockets for the keys using his free hand.
"Steve… Is a prince, alright? We both know it, so does Sharon. But it isn't like being a good guy entitles him to her."
"She was interested in him, wasn't she?"
"Was indeed. Before she learned about her great-aunt once being Steve's squeeze. Sharon thinks that's a big deal, for some reason."
"Peggy and Steve was a longtime ago. It was full of promise, but it never got the chance to get off the ground."
"Well, Sharon thinks that's the whole reason he asked her out."
"She's wrong."
"I know she is. I really tried to convince her, but she's pretty stubborn about it."
"Is she?" Jones asked, the faint hint of a smile in his voice, "I suppose it must run in the family."
Sam got into his car and turned the key into the ignition. The engine came to life with a rumble.
"I hear your partner is somewhat involved with a man with less than chivalrous tendencies."
"She used to date my ex-partner, if that's what you're referring to me. He's a little bit of a tool, but not completely, and he's a friend of mine… More or less."
"Do you approve of them dating?"
"It's not up to me to approve of it. Sharon's a big girl, she can date whoever she wants."
There was a pause on the line, before Jones spoke.
"Agent Wilson…" he started, as if his patience was running thing, before following with a softer, kinder, "Sam…
"I think it's admirable how much you respect Sharon as your partner and as a capable woman, but for once, as a favor to me, would you grow a pair and tell me what you actually think?"
Sam was silent for a moment. It wasn't everyday that a Nonagenarian former spymaster told him to grow a pair.
"I don't like it." Sam admitted as he turned on his headlights, "And I do wish she'd give Steve another chance."
"Thank you."
"But still, I'm keeping my distance. Forgetting about Sharon, what about Steve?"
"What about Steve? He's infatuated with your partner."
"Which is cute, and all, but shouldn't we… You,be helping him getting his act together instead of playing cupid?"
"Cap needs our help."
"Our help, yes. Not our meddling. It isn't like he doesn't know a thing about-"
"It is exactly like that."
"Come on. He might be old fashioned now, but back then, he must've."
"Cap is a virgin."
"…What."
"Cap has never so much as touched a woman for more than a kiss, which was rare… Only naked woman he's ever seen was in a life drawing class."
Sam was quiet again for a moment, and then shifted the gearshift into drive, lowered the emergency brakes and put his foot lightly to the gas pedal.
"You know, that actually explains a lot."
"We're the only people who know… Unless Noreen just overhead me."
"Yeah yeah…. We'll keep it that way."
"Where's Sharon now?"
"She's on a date."
"Your ex-partner?"
"Yeah."
"That's not very good."
"It isn't. I'm meeting her later tonight."
"Keep me appraised."
"Yeah," Sam said as he steered his way toward an exit, "Sure."