Ooookay, so believe me I know that this chapter is way past overdue and I'm really sorry. I had thought that the summer would give me a lot of free time to work on my stories but boy oh boy was I wrong. Working over 40 hours a week, dealing with people all day? Absolutely exhausting.
But I'm back at school now, so I'll be getting back to Sunday updates, or sooner if I get the choice.
Thanks so much for your patience guys, I really appreciate it.
Right, so, this chapter we're getting a quick look at what Steve's been up to while Nicole was on assignment including sage advice from Clint Barton. Next chapter we'll check back in with our favorite redheaded SHIELD agents and see how they're doing. I'm really looking forward to working on that chapter, mostly because my tall lady is gonna kick some ass!
Also, really sorry if this chapter has some grammar/punctual errors; I haven't gotten the chance to really proofread it and it's getting past my bed time. Will probably take a look at it tomorrow and make some small tweaks. Other than that though, who's already freaking out about the leaked Civil War info? God knows, I am!
As always a huge thank you to everybody who's been favoriting/following and reviewing, and welcome to any new comers! Love you readers so much, and probably wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for your feedback!
Adara.
Chapter Twenty-One:
1943, Italy
"With all due respect, sir, so am I."
"So let's get this straight, you and you want us to go back?"
"Pretty much."
"Sounds rather fun, actually."
"I'm in."
"We're in."
"Hell, I'll always fight. But you got to do one thing for me."
"What's that?"
"Open a tab."
They had been easy to recruit, the tattered remains of the 107th looking for a little vengeance and willing to do whatever they could to get back at Schmidt. Bound through a hardship that not many other people had a chance of understanding and despite their clashing personalities they would make a damn good team. Steve would be honored to have them at his back; he'd seen them in action and they were the best.
But there was only one person that he could trust at his six.
"Another round." He called, sidling up to the bar where Bucky was sitting, a somber expression on his face as he studied his drink.
When Steve dropped down into that empty seat it was like a switch had flipped, and an old machine was starting to power back to life.
"See, I told you. They're all idiots." Bucky chuckled, halfhearted and chased by something dark that hadn't been there the last time they'd sat together at a bar.
"How about you?" He asked, lips twisting in a small smile. "Are you ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?"
"Hell no." Bucky replied emphatically, a small, broken smile crooking across his face as familiar grey eyes lifted to blue. "That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight? I'm following him."
If only he'd known what that promise would entail, Steve would have pushed harder for Bucky to take the discharge, to get the hell out of dodge. But at the time he'd just been relieved to know that his best friend was with him to pull his ass out of the fire. It had always been Bucky pulling Steve back whenever he did something stupid; scraping him up off of the asphalt in the playground, dragging him out of dirty back alleys when his mouth got him into some deep shit… this should be no different.
It was always Steve and Bucky, together until the end of the line.
IOI
September 27, 2011, SHIELD Base: The Bank, Location: New York
"So when are you supposed to be back?" Steve asked, adjusting his position against the equipment lockers.
Nicole paused, one hand shoved into a black backpack as she lifted her gaze up to him. "We're only supposed to be there for about a week, and then we'll be back for the debriefing."
"And what all are you going to be doing on this mission?" He allowed her to nudge him out of the way, "Or is that classified?"
The now-blonde gave him one of her familiar grins, eyes downcast as she resumed packing. "You'll forgive me if I don't go into excruciating detail, but, it's a simple two-man run. Nat and I are going undercover for information and recruitment; this guy is associated with the Ten Rings, the group responsible for kidnapping Tony back in '08."
Steve leaned back, attention focused entirely on his friend. The Bank was quiet this early in the morning; most of the day staff wouldn't be coming in until eight giving them a little solitude as Nicole readied herself for her weeklong stay in Trondheim. It was more than a little sudden, this mission; no sooner had they gotten back from her parent's house than Coulson had called her in and told her that she was being sent out on a field mission. He wasn't too worried though, Nicole was more than capable of taking care of herself and she had a good service record that proved it.
"Okay." He nodded, straightening up as she zipped her bag shut. "When are you leaving?"
"Gotta be at the airport at eight, so pretty soon." She answered with a yawn, prompting Steve to pass over the cup of coffee that an intern had brought up to her. "Should have just stayed at the airport at this rate."
Steve patted her shoulder, a commiserating smile on his face. Even with the fact that he had a tendency to get out of bed a lot earlier than his friend, he didn't exactly want to be at SHIELD at this hour either. But he had his meeting with Dr. Cross at nine and he'd figured that since he had already been up the least he could do was see Nicole out.
"It's only a week, Nicole. A little work won't kill you." He paused, considering her line of work. "Hopefully."
"Nah, this is supposed to be a quick, simple mission. No gunfire needed." Nicole chuckled, checking her watch. "Speaking of which, I've got to go."
Steve watched as her face sobered, the smile gone and replaced by a fully trained SHIELD agent. It was a slightly disconcerting shift as he considered the woman that he had just spent a week in Georgia with; to Steve it was almost as if his friend was a completely different person. He thought back to their first meeting, how easily she had played the role of a nurse to the point where he hadn't suspected that she was anything different. Well, he had known almost immediately that there was more to the entire situation than met the eye, but for the most part he had believed that Nicole had been exactly as she claimed. The redhead–now blonde–switched between personas easily, and Steve couldn't help but wonder at that tidbit of information.
Nonetheless, he felt that he did know the real Nicole and watching her move he realized that he may be one of a very small select few that did.
"So do you, I think." She was glancing down at her watch. "If you want to get your workout done with time to shower before your appointment."
A cursory glance confirmed her statement; his appointment with Dr. Cross was at nine and it was getting close to seven already. He would have to hurry down if he wanted to get in at least part of his usual morning routine. Steve let out a small sigh at that, straightening and brushing out the slight wrinkles in his slacks.
"Alright, alright, I'm going." Apprehension leaked into his words as he watched Nicole sling the bag over her shoulders, reminding Steve of when he'd watched Bucky do almost the exact same thing when he shipped out. "Just… be careful."
"I'm always careful, Rogers." Nicole answered brightly, her brown eyes doing a quick once over of his body. "I'll check in when we get to the safe house, but other than that… you can ask Phil for updates if you want."
He would consider it.
Steve found it incredibly odd that they were sending Nicole out on a mission as soon as they'd gotten back. It had been too immediate for him to believe the cover story of it being coincidental; within five minutes of stepping off of Stark's private jet she'd received the phone call from Agent Coulson. Steve had heard the conversation as clearly as though the man had been speaking right next to them, and he'd watched as Nicole's brows had pinched together in confusion. Even she had agreed that there was something weird about it.
"You're supposed to be my main priority, Steve." She had explained after they'd gotten back to the apartment following her meeting with Agent Coulson. "So, yeah, this is really out of the blue. But I suppose they figure that with three months without any problems they can start easing me back into the field? I don't know, I don't claim to understand Fury's mind."
And the directive had come straight from the head of SHIELD, so there was no arguing with it.
"Walk me to the elevator?" Nicole asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.
Steve shook his head slightly, reaching out to pull open the door for her. "Sure."
"And cheer up, sourpuss. You're starting to really look the part of the grumpy old man!" He grunted slightly as she pinched his side, turning a cross at her.
"You're hilarious." He huffed, elbowing her lightly in return. "Truly, how will I manage without you?"
"By shouting at younger people to stop loitering on our stoop?" Nicole offered in response, ducking as though expecting him to swat at her head.
"Keep making jokes like that." Steve was actually surprised at how little he really minded them, it was a familiar ribbing even if the context was different. "But remember Dugan, I've got plenty of dirt on you too… it'd be real unfortunate if someone down in the correspondence department were to get access to that picture from your sixteenth birthday party."
"Don't you dare, Steve." Nicole growled threateningly, "Don't you fucking dare."
He gave her his most innocent smile. "Don't what? I was just making a statement."
"You son of a bitch." She hissed under her breath, shifting slightly to the side as more agents entered the elevator. "Morning."
Steve couldn't help the smug smile on his face as they approached the ground floor, where the car was waiting with Agent Romanoff to take the two women to the airport. From there he would probably just take the stairs down to the training floor and grab a set of workout clothes from the seemingly limitless stack available. He liked his ritual of working out before each therapy session; it allowed him to get into the right headspace so that he could look at things a little more objectively when he spoke with Dr. Cross. And this meeting was going to be an important one; this would be the session that essentially decided whether or not he would be going back into the field again, instead of being kept on the sidelines.
He understood the wisdom behind Fury's decision to keep him benched; fellas who had seen too many horrible things, things that really stuck with them and messed them up during the war, who eventually snapped under the weight of the images burned into their brains… A lot of things had changed in the past seven decades that he had needed to come to terms with. The Allied forces had won the war, sure, but they had lost a lot too. A lot in the way the US ran itself as a country, it seemed to Steve that politicians these days were more interested in treating the nation like a company and less like a group of unique and diverse human beings.
There were things he loved about the future as well; so many cultural barriers had been broken down since the forties. There were still obstacles, still groups of people who were stuck in close-minded headspaces that couldn't look past the color of a person's skin or the way they decided to live their lives. But at the same time there was life, and color, and a sense of community. The human race, for all of its faults, had surprised him over and over again since he'd woken up after a very long sleep.
"This is us." Nicole announced, drawing him out of his thoughts.
Steve blinked in surprise to find his friend standing in the hall outside of the elevator, waiting with her arm outstretched. Surprised–and a little embarrassed–that his awareness had completely checked out, he ducked his head with a few murmured excuse me's and wiggled his way past the other agents that were starting to fill the building.
"So you'll call as soon as you can?" He repeated, following her towards the main entrance.
He knew that his friend would be perfectly fine; she'd told him she'd pulled off similar missions more times than she could count in her history with SHIELD. Nicole had shown him that she was more than capable in a fight, and that she could hold her own but it didn't stop his slight concern. It wasn't exactly like he had made a whole lot of friends over the summer; he could count the number on one hand and still have more than enough fingers left over. For the longest time he had always been the one that people had needed to look after; his ma, Bucky, the guys at the college that he had gotten along with well enough… After he'd been given the serum Steve had finally been in a position where he could take care of the people that meant the most to him.
Evidently it hadn't worked out all too well.
"I'll call as soon as I can." Nicole confirmed, a knowing light in her eyes.
"Dugan." They both looked over at the address, eyes landing on a shorter woman carrying a gunmetal grey suitcase.
"Steve," Nicole began, "This is Natasha Romanoff, she's SHIELD's best field agent."
"Don't let Barton hear you say that, he'll never shut up." The woman scoffed, turning a cool nod to him. "Cap."
"Ma'am." He replied politely.
Agent Romanoff had a carefully constructed blank look on her face, as though the goings on around them held absolutely no interest to her. It was a farce, one that Steve had seen before; the woman was taking in every minute detail around her and preparing for every possible contingency. This was his first time meeting the woman, and even if he hadn't been enlightened on a great many of the rumors about her he would be intimidated. Physically she was a lot smaller than him, but Agent Romanoff had the bearing of a woman who would be able to twist his arm behind his back and beat his head off of a counter before he could even get his bearings around him. She was a chameleon as much out of circumstance as personal choice, and it was the knowledge that she could be whatever she wanted to be without batting an eye made him a little uneasy.
It impressed him as well, and in retrospect Steve supposed that he shouldn't be surprised that SHIELD would recruit such strong and capable female agents. The organization was founded by Peggy, after all, and she had been one of the strongest women he'd ever known.
"Is that the veil?" Nicole asked with a jerk of her chin down to the case.
Romanoff nodded, setting it on the desk of a busy secretary who didn't respond other than to move her stack of papers. "Prepped and ready for application. Selwyn went ahead and tweaked this one so it'll stand up to long periods of use. It's water resistant as well."
"Awesome sauce." Steve watched curiously as the case was open, catching the quirk of Agent Romanoff's lips at Nicole's less than enthused words.
"What is that?" He asked in surprise, looking down at a nearly identical–if not somewhat more aged–version of Agent Romanoff's face on what looked like a shimmering sheet of paper.
His friend glanced up at him as she lifted the veil, bringing it to her face. "It's a Photostatic veil; a device that allows us to impersonate another person. It's programmable to allow the user to copy someone's facial and vocal patterns nearly perfectly, and it fits on your face like so."
With careful fingers and methodical movements Nicole applied the Photostatic veil, leaving Steve to watch in wonder as it adhered to her skin. There were a few more golden shimmers as it adjusted to the contours of Nicole's features before he was looking at a near carbon copy of Agent Romanoff. "It'll be key in maintaining our cover as sisters."
"Wow, you sound just like her too." He breathed in surprise, hand reaching up of its own accord. It felt just like real skin under his fingertips. "Did Stark develop this?"
Agent Romanoff snorted again. "Up until his… accident, Stark was only interested in developing things that blew up, so no."
"What Natasha means," Nicole explained, "Is that Tony used to be a weapons manufacturer for the military, so his specialty was a little less subtle. This was created by a Berkeley graduate named Selwyn. He's a certified genius when it comes to this kind of stuff."
"I see." He was a little surprised to hear that Tony had ended up following in his father's footsteps. From what Nicole had told him, Steve had imagined that the younger Stark had a complicated relationship with his father. Not to mention the fact that Stark was nowadays focused almost entirely on developing cleaner energy; a worthy goal and a complete 180 from the weapons industry.
"Now that you're ready to go, we've gotta hit the road." Romanoff warned, flipping the case shut again. "Don't wanna miss our plane."
"Right." Nicole looked a little reluctant as she fixed the backpack on her shoulder. "I'll see you when I get back."
"Be careful." A fissure of uncertainty filled the space between them; Nicole looked like she wanted to reach out and pull him into a hug–one that he would have welcomed–but was conscientious of their environment. Instead she just watched him with weighted green eyes for a few more seconds before nodding briskly.
"Always am." With a small wave that was full of unspoken sentiment, she turned her back and followed Agent Romanoff out of the Bank.
Steve waited a few minutes, watching as his friend vanished out of the door before he turned back in the direction of the training area downstairs. It was still early enough for Steve to start his work out in relative peace and quiet, something that he was grateful for as he headed straight to the locker room. There was one other person headed out on his way in, somebody that Steve didn't actually know and therefore felt no need to engage in polite small talk with. He wasn't anti-social by any means and under most circumstances Steve was more than happy to chat with the various agents that he ran into on a daily basis. Today, however, wasn't normal circumstances and he would rather have the time to get his thoughts in order. Now that there had been a little time to slow down and collect his bearings after the past week, he was ready to process everything that he had learned and experienced. Such as the fact that two of his good friends were…
They had gotten the lives that he had wanted after the war. Gabe and Dum Dum both were grandparents with families of their own, they had gotten to grow old into retirement while he had been trapped in a cold, black sleep. Steve was happy for them, but it was a bitter sweet happiness that he couldn't help but chew on. It could have been him, it should have been him as well; he and Peggy sitting on a porch in the sun as their kids and grandkids ran around the yard playing. A part of him had always known, had always suspected, that he had been living on borrowed time though; all those times when the doctors had told his ma that he wouldn't make it to see his next birthday. And all of those times he'd clawed another year out for himself. Steve just hadn't expected that fate would exact its revenge quite like this.
He still felt lost sometimes, when he'd wake up and be met with a ruthless reminder that everything was different. It hurt too, when he was slapped in the face with the fact that all of his dreams for after the war were never going to come true. Nicole helped, she tried to at least and most of the time she succeeded, but there were times when she was a part of the problem. She was a stark reminder of everything that had changed, of the seventy years that had gone by. Seventy years separated them, and it created its own list of problems that had to be dealt with. They had a lot of differences of opinions; the twenties and thirties were a different time to grow up than the eighties and nineties, and they weren't the same people. She had issues with his generation–so did he–and he had issues with hers. Occasionally, though it happened less often than it used to, they would get into debates that got so heated they didn't speak for the rest of the day. There was still a learning curve for them though, they were still in the process of settling in to the new presence in their lives.
And though he tried to avoid it–because it was unfair to both himself and to Nicole–Steve sometimes found himself comparing his new friend to Bucky. Nicole was a wonderful person, and she didn't hesitate to tell him what he needed to hear even when it wasn't what he wanted to hear. He cared a lot about her, and he was glad that she had been the agent assigned to help him, but she wasn't Bucky. Sometimes he forgot that; sometimes they'd be bickering about random things and she would absently call him a punk… Steve had caught himself just before he'd instinctively responded with jerk and every time it was like getting stabbed in the heart over and over again. As much as he enjoyed being around her, Steve would be a liar if he said that he wasn't looking forward to having the apartment all to himself for a week.
His workout was a short one, it only lasted about an hour and a half before both time and the growing number of gawking agents had him steadying the swaying sand bag. He should be used to drawing a crowd considering the time he'd spent as a performer for Senator Brandt, but all of the eyes on him still made Steve feel like his skin was crawling. Especially with the whispers as he headed back to the lockers, stiff backed and with jerking nods for whomever happened to make eye contact.
Sure he could be friendly, but it was harder to do when people were studying him like a bug with three heads.
IOI
September 28, 2011, SHIELD Base: The Bank, Location: New York
"Captain Rogers?" He looked up at the use of his name, carefully tucking his pencil away and closing his sketchbook at the approach of an agent that was sporting an impressive black eye and several purpling bruises.
"Agent Klein?" Steve hopped to his feet as he recognized the face under the blemishes, offering his hand to the neighbor that they only sometimes saw. "What can I do for you?"
"Boss is ready to see you." Klein jerked his chin in the direction of the double doors, grimacing slightly as it agitated his injuries. "It ain't often that he has one-on-ones with people, but I guess you're a special case."
A special case? Steve couldn't help the way his lips twitched into a bitter smile; he supposed in comparison to everything except for a man flying around in a suit of armor and a supposed god dropping out of the sky, he really was a special case.
"Thanks." He nodded, tucking his sketchbook under his arm. Steve had been trying to draw more often at Dr. Cross' recommendation; she said that it was a familiar release for him, one that didn't have any particular ties to a single time period. It had only been a day since his last appointment, but he had to admit it was nice to let his brain wander as he tried to immortalize his surroundings on paper. It also allowed him an escape for the concern that was starting to gnaw at the back of his mind. Nicole had arrived in Trondheim last night, and she had said that she would call him as soon as she got a chance. He wasn't expecting his friend to check in with him on the hour, but he had hoped to hear back from her by now…
Of course if something had gone wrong with the mission so soon Steve was sure that someone would tell him.
Was that what had prompted the meeting with Director Fury? As far as he had been aware the head of SHIELD had still been in Washington DC.
"He's in a pretty decent mood." Klein assured him, catching the way his brows had furrowed together. "Whatever it is, I don't think it's anything bad."
"Good to know." And he didn't want to know just how Agent Klein had come to be able to differentiate between one of Fury's good moods and a bad one.
He could only imagine why it was that the Director wanted to speak to him directly though; ever since the first couple of days after he'd woken up, Steve had worked with Agent Coulson if anybody. He supposed, though, that he would find out as soon as he headed into the office.
"Captain Rogers, come in." Unsurprisingly, Steve's knock was answered almost immediately.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Director Fury was seated at his desk looking over a stack of paperwork that was immediately whisked away and replaced with a couple other folders.
"I did, yes." Fury gestured to one of the dark chairs across from him. "Have a seat Cap."
Steve sat, sketchbook balanced carefully on the arm of the chair as he watched the Director pull the top folder closer to him. It took only a few quick glanced at the shifting papers for Steve to recognize some of Nicole's reports; true to her words his friend had let him look over them before she sent them to Coulson. It shouldn't surprise Steve in the slightest that Fury would have his file, they were having this meeting to discuss his future with SHIELD after all.
"You know, when I first joined SHIELD I met Agent Cater." Fury offered conversationally, still organizing the papers.
"Oh?" He hadn't known that, though it made sense.
"She spoke very highly of you, which should come as no surprise." The Director continued, peering up at him. "SHIELD, when it was founded, was built upon your legacy Rogers. Not as Captain America, but as Steve Rogers."
He was wondering at the purpose of this conservation when Fury finally stilled, fingers threading together as his singular eye bored into him. "Agent Carter seemed to have a good idea of the kind of man you were, Cap; brave, selfless, noble… a skilled brain and a good heart. A man of action where others would rather sit on their asses, she said. I can understand that, hell I can respect it, so believe me when I say that I understand how frustrating these past couple of months have been for you."
"I had honestly thought you'd be out seeing the world you'd saved." Steve would be a liar if he'd said he hadn't thought about it. He had bought a new motorcycle almost as soon as he'd had the money and had considered a road trip but something had held him back.
"When I woke up," The blonde began carefully, "They told me we won the war. They never said what all we lost."
Fury nodded thoughtfully at that, a look of understanding in his eye that made him wonder before a sharp exhale broke the tension that threatened to build. "As you are already aware–or if not, you know now–Dr. Cross and Agent Dugan have been keeping Coulson updated on your progress since June. And Coulson in turn, has been reporting to me."
"I was aware, yes sir." He answered.
Director Fury was a man who reminded Steve a lot of Colonel Phillips. He had the weight of an entire Agency on his shoulders, turning him gruff and strict. Underneath that barking exterior though, was a man trying to protect the innocent from things that they couldn't begin to understand. If Steve didn't truly believe that SHIELD was trying to do good, he would be in the wind. It was the main reason why he hadn't taken Ross up on his offer; he believed that SHEILD was the best fit for him; it had been founded by Peggy and Howard after all. Not to mention that Nicole had been right in saying Ross–and Blonsky–had both been snakes.
"How have you come to find working with Agent Dugan? You both did quite well together in DC and you seem thick as thieves." There was a knowing, borderline smug look on Fury's face that reminded Steve of how adamant he had been about not needing Nicole's help.
"I'll admit, my initial misgivings were wrong." He could admit when he was wrong, contrary to popular belief. "She's come to be a valuable friend."
"Well I'm glad you feel that way. You seem to have made quite the impression on her as well; in her last report Nicole recommended your return to field work and Dr. Cross agrees." Blue eyes widened in surprise at that. He… truth be told Steve hadn't thought that yesterday's meeting had gone very well. They had been discussing the week he'd spent in Georgia, how nice it was to see Dum Dum and Gabe with their families' and–well, clearheaded and composed were not descriptors that he would have used.
"Really?" The surprise, evident in his eyes, was mirrored in his voice. "I–huh."
Fury rose his hands, lips twitching dangerously close to a smile. "Before you go off saving the world all by yourself Cap, we are going to start small."
"Of course, sir." Dr. Cross had said as much in their last meeting.
Anything would be better than nothing though.
"In the long run, should you be interested, I'd like to put you in charge of one of our Strike Teams." The Director continued. "But first we need to get you better familiarized with the way SHIELD works now so I'd like to see how you handle just one partner. I have a list of individuals that would work well with you, and of course the partner we would prefer to have you with… but it's up to you to make the final decision."
Steve accepted the next file that was given to him, only slightly smaller than his own. It didn't come as much of a shock when he opened it up to find Nicole's information staring back at him, along with a photograph of a much younger version of the woman. Her hair was pin straight and in a high ponytail, and it looked like she was wearing some type of suit. There were other files as well, Agent Klein's, a woman named Barbara Morse–code name Mockingbird, the file showed–and a man by the name of Grant Ward.
"What you have there are their base files; mostly declassified mission reports, service records and psychological evaluations. There are some non-disclosed mission reports in there as well, though not all of the details on them have been released." Fury spoke blandly. "And of course some things have been left out for agent confidentiality. Whenever you decide which partner you want to work with, I'll need that decision along with those files by the end of the week."
"Isn't this a breach of privacy?" Steve skimmed through the cover pages of the other agents, going through their basic demographics. A part of him wanted to hand all of the files back immediately; not only did it seem like an invasion of privacy, but to Steve it seemed that by taking the files he was somehow doubting his friend. Irrational thinking, because he knew that Nicole would want him to be completely informed before making a decision, but he was still a little leery of looking through the files.
"Not at all Cap; SHIELD personnel files are available to agents with level 7 clearance. Agent Dugan received the same access during her promotion just before you woke up." Fury told him. "Of course, certain missions and information have different classification levels."
It made sense, but it also made Steve wonder how many of the details regarding Dr. Banner's battle in Harlem were still classified.
"So this is, what? Some sort of a promotion?" He asked curiously.
"Not quite." Fury leaned back in his seat. "Think of it like returning to work after a long vacation. The world is ready for you to return to duty, Cap, but there is something we need first."
He quirked an eyebrow at that, sliding the files on top of his sketchbook and pulling them all onto his lap. "And what is that, exactly?"
"A private meeting, we've got someone very interested in saying hello." He had a sneaking suspicion that Fury was always this vague.
"Should I feel honored?" Because Steve really didn't; people wanting private meetings… those usually didn't wind up working out well for him.
Fury shrugged his shoulders at the question, sitting up. "Feel how you want, Rogers. But this invitation comes from high up; highest you can get in the country. President Ellis has extended you an offer to visit the White House and should you be inclined to join him, let me know. Until then Agent Barton will be your temporary acting liaison until Agent Dugan gets back."
"The president?" He stiffened slightly in his seat. No matter who–or what–else Steve might have considered blowing off, an audience with the Commander-in-chief was not something that he could turn up his nose at.
"President Ellis invited you to lunch at the Whitehouse. Formally it's open-ended as to when you would like to accept, but ideally sooner rather than later." Fury told him. "We can have you there as soon as you're ready."
"I'm not doing anything tomorrow." Which was true; he'd had his emergency meeting with Dr. Cross yesterday, and she'd cut back the appointments to only twice a month instead of their weekly schedule. "If it isn't too sudden?"
"Tomorrow will work perfectly fine. I'll make the call and have Agent Barton draw up an itinerary." Fury made a quick note on his tablet, causing Steve to quirk an eyebrow.
"Seems like a lot of effort for just one lunch." The blond noted.
"Oh, it is." Fury deadpanned, "But it'll do Barton good."
There was something of a glint of amusement in Fury's eye; a small, personable tell that told Steve that the man was more than just the Director of SHIELD. Fury had a sense of humor, even if it was well masked behind a stern, professional façade. And for some reason Steve found his newest discovery to be reassuring.
Just as quickly as it was there, the look was gone and the Director was watching him coolly. "I think that's all I have for you, Cap."
The Director of SHIELD was a busy man after all, and Steve had his own work cut out for him. "Yes, sir."
Steve climbed to his feet easily, collecting all of the files and his sketchbook. "I'll have a decision for you by the end of the week."
Receiving only a nod in response, the blond left the large office. Outside the Bank was as busy as ever with agents running to and fro carrying paperwork, coffee, and just about anything in-between. All except for one agent, who was leaning against the corner of a desk chatting with another agent who had a mildly annoyed look on their face.
"For the love of God, Barton, if you don't stop copying everything I say… what are you? Five?" The agent growled.
Barton just smirked. "What are you? Five?"
Steve quirked an eyebrow, resisting the urge to laugh at the agent's disgruntled growl.
"Aw, come on Jones, lighten up would'ja?" Barton snorted. "You're almost as bad as Nat sometimes."
"Believe me, Hawkeye, every mission that you manage to come back from without getting mysteriously shot is a miracle." Jones replied, swatting the blond's hand away from the candy dish. "Don't you have a job to do?"
Steve was starting to wonder if SHIELD made a habit of hiring actual children.
"You're no fun, Jones." Before Steve could announce his presence, Barton twisted to face him. "Captain."
"Agent." He nodded in response. "The Director said that you'll be my fill in liaison for the week?"
Agent Barton made a slight face at that, rolling his eyes. "Is that what Fury's calling me? Okay, I guess liaison is a fair enough term to use."
Agent Barton flashed a quick grin, hand darting out with a blur to snag a few skittles off of Jones' desk. "Shall we?"
When Jones gave them a low fuck off–or perhaps that particular response was to BARTON–Steve couldn't help the small heh. If anything his response seemed to encourage Barton because the dirty blond got a smug look on his face and his gray eyes glittered in amusement.
"So, Fury sent me the express instructions that I am to draw up an itinerary for tomorrow." There was no missing the grimace this time. "Do you really need one or can we just wing it?"
Steve was caught between wanting to save Barton the trouble and avenging Agent Jones' candy; it didn't really matter to him either way. "It would be nice to have a plan going into this."
"Yeah, yeah, of course." There was no missing the pout. "Barton gets to stay on the phone talking to people all night. We're probably going to be leaving early tomorrow, so would you like to meet me here or should I pick you up?"
"You don't live at the complex?" As he recalled Nicole telling him, most SHIELD employees that worked at the Bank stayed in their building.
"Nope!" Barton replied cheerfully. "I've got a place out near Hell's Kitchen, but I seldom use it–don't get a whole lot of time off–so it's typically easier to stay on site."
"Plus," And it was that mischievous grin that really made Steve like the guy, "The Bank is a lot more fun after hours."
"I bet it is." He chuckled, thinking to the night that he and Nicole had stayed. With the exception of a few people the building had been practically deserted. Of course they had been a little more subdued in their visit at the time–especially considering the circumstances-but Steve could imagine the kind of trouble that could be gotten into. He also recalled how horribly uncomfortable the beds were–and while he had worse, he certainly wouldn't wish those planks of wood on anyone.
"If you're going to be here all week," The blond began carefully, "You're more than welcome to stay at the apartment. The couch is probably a lot more comfortable than the bunks. And it'll be easier to leave tomorrow or if something happens."
He wasn't exactly sure why he'd offered the couch, it wasn't like Steve was the most social person in the world, but… well, like he said it was more efficient that way. And truth be told he did like the Agent. The man had a sort of childish humor, but he knew from personal experience that Barton could be serious… and those beds really did suck.
"You and Dugan… you live on the top corner of the building right? With the I-beam rafters?" Unsure as to why it was relevant, Steve nodded. "Then yeah, sure."
"Hell of a lot more comfortable than the vents."
He wasn't asking.
"Great." Steve offered a friendly smile. "Do you need a second to grab your bag?"
Barton shook his head. "Nah, my stuff is still in my car. I'll meet you there?"
"Works for me. I was gonna make lunch when I got back, are you allergic to anything?" He really liked cooking; didn't have to boil; as many things and there were more spices. And despite what both Nicole and Dum Dum claimed, he was pretty good in a kitchen. Plus his housemate was a big foodie, so she always made sure they had the best in terms of produce and variety.
Steve had also spent most of his life allergic to so many things–he still couldn't get over how good peanut butter was–so he was always happy to try new recipes. And he understood the importance of asking others about allergies too.
"No allergies; healthy as ah horse over here." Barton replied easily. "Shall we?"
The ride back was quick, but it gave Steve some time to think, specifically about the stack of folders in the storage compartment of his bike. He… a good part of him knew that, at the end of the day, Nicole would be a better partner for him than any of the other candidates but–he didn't want to lose any more friends in the line of duty. Not when he still couldn't think about Bucky without that stab of pain and guilt. And Nicole was an only child, her parents adored her as did the rest of her family; he couldn't let something happen to her. But would he be more comfortable working with anyone else? Agent Klein or Agent Morse? Ward? Steve only kind of knew Klein and–with the exception of a few stories Nicole had told him–he didn't know Morse or Ward. He definitely didn't trust them to have his back.
Honestly, he wished he could work alone.
Barton was waiting by his car, bag slung over one shoulder and a cool, businesslike expression on his face. It was a clear change from his attitude earlier and it would have almost been concerning if it weren't for the fact that Steve knew Barton was technically on the clock. While it was one thing to be relaxed and easygoing in your own private workspace, in public the man had a reputation to maintain and an agency to represent. And like Nicole, Barton was every inch the professional, badass agent that he appeared to be.
Up until they got into the apartment.
"Well, hello little buddy!" Apparently Agent Barton absolutely loved dogs.
"You're a handsome fella, aren't you?" The man's eyes had lit up as soon as he'd seen Chauncey upon entering the apartment, a small smile on his face when Steve reached down to pet the corgi… and when the dog game over to inspect the newcomer?
This week, Steve felt, was going to be very interesting.
IOI
September 29, 2011, Location: The White House, Washington DC
"It's an honor to meet you, sir." Steve accepted the hand offered to him, giving it a firm shake.
"A real honor. My father, he used to tell me the stories, you know. He was in the army too." President Ellis gave him a wide grin, a slight flush of color on his face. The same flush of color that Steve had seen many times before; the president was a fan it seemed.
"No kidding." Considering that it was the President that Steve was having lunch with, he figured at the very least he could be polite. "What regiment?"
"251st," Ellis answered, gesturing for a seat. "Air support. They got to pilot some of Howard Stark's prototype air cannons."
"I think I know the ones you're talking about, I remember Howard seeing the schematics when he was doing research on HYDRA weapons." His friend had been trying to find some way to utilize HYDRA's weaponry for the Allied efforts. There had been some success, but more than a few issues as well.
"Yeah," Ellis had a huge smile on his face, taking a seat at the small table across from him. "Yeah, those are the ones. Good Lord, this must seem so bizarre for you."
It was an innocent enough statement he supposed, well-meaning at the very least, but Steve had heard it so many times in the past three months. Constant reminders of the fact that he didn't belong.
Instead of snapping, or giving in to the urge to grimace at the question however, the blond just shrugged with a crooked twitch of the mouth. "It's a little odd, I'll admit. But SHIELD has been really helpful in trying to get me back up to speed. And the internet, so helpful."
"Yeah," Ellis seemed thoughtful for a second. "Times have certainly changed. You can find almost anything on the internet nowadays."
"Ain't that the truth?" There was a slight shift of movement, one of the members of the Secret Service adjusting their stance ever so slightly, but it caught Steve's eye. He glanced up for half a second before looking back down at the table, where the plates were aligned near perfectly, resisting the urge to fidget.
It wasn't exactly that it was a bad lunch, per se; it was very private so at least Steve didn't have to deal with reporters or photographers. God he hated reporters, they always had a habit of twisting around everything that a person said. And he was in a better mood; Nicole had called him yesterday afternoon, not too long after he'd gotten back to the apartment with Barton, and they'd chatted for a little bit but... to tell the truth Steve had bigger things on his mind than lunch with the President. And it may sound rude–it probably was a little bit–but it was the truth. He still hadn't even taken a look at the files that Fury had given him, other than a cursory glance at the front pages.
You already know the decision you're going to make. He did; practicality overruled anything else, and he knew that Nicole would make the best partner out in the field. They worked well together, and they fought well together, but more than that he knew her and he trusted her. If it came down to it, Steve would have no qualms with putting his life in Nicole's hands.
That wasn't the problem, the problem was her putting her life in his hands. The last time someone did that… well it didn't end too well.
"You're over thinking things, Cap." Steve was drawn out of his thoughts by Agent Barton, who was slung back in his seat with one arm out the window as they cruised down the highway. "You've been staring at the same spot on the dashboard for forty minutes now."
It didn't take long to pick up on the fact that Barton had an uncanny knack for noticing even the minutest details… also that he liked to be high up and slept less than Steve did.
"Have I?" He asked calmly, keeping his voice level and the surprise out of it.
"And fidgeting too, for what it's worth." There was a slight jerk of the car as Barton merged into the passing lane, not without a few muttered oaths. "Doesn't take a lot of effort to figure out why; you don't want a partner."
"You're very astute, Agent Barton." Blue eyes lifted from the dashboard–where he had been staring–to glance over at the driver. "But I did have two cups of coffee, maybe that's the problem?"
Barton made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, glancing over at where Steve sat. "SHIELD doesn't pay me to sit on my hands all day, Cap. They call me Hawkeye for a reason, and believe me, I don't need any excellent powers of deduction to realize what's up with you. You were making eyes at those files on the coffee table all day yesterday."
"You're surprisingly astute, Agent Barton." That comment earned Steve another disgusted noise, and the dirty blond rolled his eyes.
"Of course I am, why does everyone always sound so surprised? Who's been telling you people otherwise?" Barton grumbled. "It's Jones isn't it? Fucker's had a grudge ever since Nicaragua I swear… not my damn fault that the dumbass didn't listen to me."
Steve didn't comment, listening to the ranting that continuously decreased in volume.
At least until Barton glanced back at him. "You don't want a partner, Rogers, and honestly? I get it. I do. I've been at SHIELD long enough to have seen enough people I like die in the line of duty. It fucking sucks, and up until I brought Romanoff into SHIELD I'd been determined to work solo."
"What changed?" He asked from the passenger seat. "What made you become her partner?"
"Fury, honestly. My imperative was to kill the infamous Black Widow, and I made a different call so she became my responsibility." Barton answered. "And just because you have a partner doesn't always mean that you'll be working with them all the time; Nat and I just got back from two completely different missions, and yeah I'll be honest, I worried."
Barton wiggled his fingers a bit outside of the window, seeming to enjoy the wind against his hand. "Here's the thing that you have to consider though; regardless of whether or not you work alone or with someone, that person–whoever it may be–is still a field agent and is still going to be out there risking their lives."
"You can't control that, Cap. The only thing you can really do about it is to make sure that you're there to watch their backs." The man shrugged. "But that's just my commentary that you didn't ask for."
Steve mulled over those words, chewing on his lower lip in contemplation. Agent Barton had a fair point; having a partner was one of the conditions to being sent back out into the field for SHIELD. At the very least Fury was giving him a choice in who he wanted to work with, which Steve supposed he should be grateful for. And it wasn't like he didn't have options; if he wanted to Steve could leave SHIELD and there wouldn't be much that Fury could do to stop him, especially if he went into the Army again.
The way Ross had snuck glances at him back during their time at the Department of Homeland Security flashed across his mind at that, the cutting, critical way the man had looked at him. Steve hadn't been an equal to that man, he'd been an asset, a tool.
No, he would stay with SHIELD. Any organization that Peggy had put so much time and effort into creating had to be worth sticking around, it had to have its redeeming qualities.
"Can I ask for your honest opinion, Agent Barton?"
He gave a toothy grin, thumb tapping on the steering wheel. "Ain't gonna get any other kind from me, Cap."
"If it was your choice, between Agents Morse, Klein, Ward, and Dugan, who would you chose?" The grin twisted into a slight wince at that.
"For me, or for you?"
"For yourself."
Barton seemed to seriously consider the question, the steady tap-tap-tap increasing in speed. "Hard to say, though I can tell you now it wouldn't be Ward. He's a bit of an asshole–I am too though–and he emphatically works alone. Don't know why the boss recommended him, other than perhaps his fieldwork."
"I've seen Klein work, we trained together a bit back when I first started. He's good in a fight, and can keep a level head, but he's a little too… reserved for my liking. Can he do his job? Yeah. Cameron is really damned good at what he does, but at the same time I don't know that he's exactly partner material. Another Agent that's better suited to working solo. So that leaves, who? Morse and Dugan?"
Steve absorbed those words; from the few interactions he'd had with Agent Klein he had to say that he liked the lanky agent.
"Well, they're both phenomenal agents. I would say they're the best if it weren't for the fact that I know Natasha Romanoff, but they'd both make great partners. You can tell from looking at their service records–the parts that have been declassified–that they take their jobs seriously. In terms of strictly martial skills I'd say both of the ladies are pretty evenly matched, but it's not just martial skills that I would consider for selecting a partner. I don't know, honestly I trust both of them enough to work with them, but in the long run?" Barton reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"If I had to choose one of them to be my partner, it'd be Dugan. Morse is secretive–which don't get me wrong, isn't a bad thing–but if she has other motives for doing something, you can't guarantee she'll share them. And again, that's not a bad thing, not in this line of work. But Nicole is a pretty straight forward person, she says what she means." Steve felt the weight of gray eyes on him again for the briefest of seconds. "Personally, I've just always liked working with Nicole more. It's nothing against Morse, because Bobbi is an unbelievable agent and I'd work with her in a heartbeat, but there's just… too much between us that could get in the way."
Steve didn't pry on that last bit, it wasn't his place to ask personal questions of someone he'd just met a day ago, but he did find himself nodding along.
"Permission to speak candidly?" That inquiry brought a slight smirk to Steve's face.
"Granted."
"I think we both know who you're gonna choose to be your partner, Rogers." Clint said. "You and Dugan complement each other well and you know it. Speaking from experience, it's not just that she'd be good to work with you, but you'd be good to work with her. Nicole has spent a lot of time working solo missions, she needs a partner as much as you do."
"Just… before you commit to anything you should get a feel for what you'd be working with. You don't buy the car without a test drive first, right?"
IOI
September 30, 2011, Location: 19th Street, Brooklyn, NY
Name: Nicole Meredith Dugan
DOB: 02071986
Mission: Glasgow, Scotland
Date Filed: 04092009
Agent Dugan arrived at the rendezvous at promptly 1300, contacting SHIELD with information regarding ***REDACTED***. Upon receiving her directive, Agent Dugan proceeded to Alea Casino, Paisley Road to intercept Magnus Patterson. Cover established as Thea Aderenett; heiress to the Aderenett textile and lumber company of New Zealand.
By 2345 Agent Dugan departed Alea Casino, spotted with Magnus Patterson. Let it be restated that the directive was to get close to Patterson and gain information about the weapons purchased by ***REDACTED*** and used in ***REDACTED***.
Patterson and Dugan left in a black Vauxhall Astra tagged P8I RSB presumably to Patterson's penthouse nearby. GPS tracking on Dugan's phone showed a detour from all routes to Patterson's abode before the unit shut down. Agent Dugan was in the black until a call was placed at 0129 from an abandoned warehouse in an abandoned neighborhood. Agent Dugan had been taken for questioning and had escaped through use of ***REDACTED***.
Patterson was receiving weapons shipments from Vanchat, though there was not substantial proof for a confession–the Widow was sent to neutralize the threat. Authorities did not suspect SHIELD involvement and one of the main weapons warehouses were neutralized.
Mission deemed a success.
Counseling and recovery recommended for Agent Dugan:
Upon return from Glasgow, Dugan remained quiet and withdrawn. Her mood seemed to worsen upon release of Vanchat and she deemed the mission a personal failure due to ***REDACTED***. Agent Dugan seems to place a lot of weight on her shoulders, whether from trying to maintain the legacy or from the burden of ***REDACTED***, but in my professional opinion some time off–perhaps paid leave–would be most beneficial.
Dr. Laura Cross, PhD.
With nothing else to do upon returning to the apartment Steve had decided to take Barton up on his advice and… take the car out for a test drive. He had given the other agent's files cursory glances, but his attention had been mostly focused on Nicole's file. To tell the truth Steve was a little surprised at how much of the file was still classified, even with a level seven clearance. It was a sure indication that she was doing some pretty high level missions with the organization.
His eye was drawn to the next page, what looked like email correspondence though the addresses were blacked out.
Director,
When I said paid leave I meant a vacation. Somewhere warm or calm where she could recover and get her head on straight. Sending her to god knows where in the Rockies the EXACT OPPOSITE of is warm and calm. As her therapist, I strongly disagree with this decision.
Dr. Laura Cross, PhD.
Dr. Cross,
I am well aware of your displeasure with this assignment–the constant phone calls, emails and very aggressive sticky notes have spelled it out quite clearly–but I would like to remind you that I have taken your prognosis into consideration. The operation is not going to require strenuous activity. It is as much a vacation as it is anything else; odds are Agent Dugan won't be doing anything more challenging than swiping her ID. We need her for this.
Fury, Nicholas J. Director of SHIELD.
Nick,
I still think this is a bad idea. She's in a bad spot right now and work is the last thing she should be doing. But if you think this is wise… I will defer to your judgement.
Laura.
Steve frowned at that, fingers tracing along the words as he reached out with his spare hand to snag his glass of water. Nicole hadn't been too thrilled when Fischer had brought up her Glasgow mission back in the inventory room back at the Bank, he remembered the way that her brown eyes had hardened at the mention of it. And it didn't take too much to understand that she'd escaped that warehouse using her powers; there would be no other reason to redact the information. But what Steve hadn't realized was just how badly Glasgow had affected her.
And really, he should have at least suspected.
Nicole Dugan was a silent bleeder, just like he was; she would stand there, taking the weight of others problems and supporting them while she crumbled underneath it all. Just like he did, and what kind of complex did she have that made her like that?
He hadn't paid too much attention to the time when Agent Barton had stepped out of the living room into the hall, but Steve knew that it had been at least an hour since the dirty blond had left. A cursory glance at the clock showed that it was passing six, going on seven and Steve realized with a slight sinking feeling that it had been more than a little while since he'd last taken Chauncey out. That meant it must have been… four, five hours since he'd started going through the files, and he was only as far as 2009? Nicole had been a very busy agent of SHIELD.
"Hey, bud," The blond groaned, stretching out his back and neck as he nudged the sleeping dog with his foot. "Do you have to go out?"
Chauncey perked his ears up almost instantly, brown eyes peering up at him as the small dog gracelessly scrabbled to his feet.
"I'll take that as a yes." It was as Steve was climbing to his feet, set on finding the leash, that he picked up on Barton's voice from the hallway.
"You're absolutely sure? And Nat?" The man's voice was tight, worry seeping through the edges. "She's okay?"
Steve stilled, fingers tightening on the leash as his ears strained to pick up whatever the person on the other end of the phone was saying.
Something was wrong.
"I'll let him know, we'll be there in a few minutes. Thanks Phil." Barton wasn't even surprised to find Steve waiting right on the other side of the door.
"What happened?" He demanded, brows furrowing as an edge crept into his voice.
For his part, Barton hid the worry that he'd heard behind a stony, impassive expression. "That was Coulson, there was a complication with the mission and Nicole's cover was blown. The Ten Rings has her in custody right now."
Ice crept into his veins, and Steve felt the metal clip of the leash bending in his white knuckled grip. "Get me to the Bank."