Peggy Carter isn't the sort of person who gives up easily. So when the SSR ignores her talents as one of the greatest field agents of her era and treats her as a secretary in all but name, she goes back into the field anyways. It starts with Howard, of course, with stolen tech and false accusations, but that isn't the end of it. The war may be over, but some things will never be the same. The world still needs people like her, out in the field, doing their jobs, not sitting behind a desk filing papers. And so she doesn't stop. She investigates reports of strange occurrences, dangerous tech, and unusual threats in general. And along the way, she makes alliances, even friends. She's building a network that will one day be SHIELD. But her story doesn't end there.
It was a perfectly normal day. Well, normal for Peggy. It involved half a dozen Hydra agents, a hideout in northern Italy, and a particularly unstable package. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it glowed a rather toxic-looking shade of purple and Hydra seemed very determined to keep her away from it. She'd been chasing it for nearly a fortnight.
She was cornered in a small storage room. The package was within her grasp, but getting it and herself out of the compound would be more difficult. More than a dozen guards had her surrounded. She couldn't fight her way out alone, so she did the only thing she could. She opened the box, praying it would do something that would help her escape.
Her fingers met glowing metal and purple light filled her vision. The room spun. When it stopped, she found herself in a dusty room, empty except for her and the device. It was, come to think of it, the same size and shape as the room she had been in before. Silently, she opened the door. Same corridor, but no guards.
Her unease grew as she moved through the compound. More empty rooms. More dust and peeling paint. But the biggest surprise came when she found a window. It was cracked and dingy, sunlight showing every dust particle floating through the air. Sunlight. The last time she had seen it, the sun was setting. Now, it was high in the sky, yet she was certain that no more than a few hours had passed. Something was very wrong.
She looked down at the device in her hand. It was a box small enough to fit in her pocket, with buttons and dials and a tiny screen, which read 3 APRIL 1960. Her heart skipped a beat. When she started this mission, it had been September 20, 1949.
There was a brief moment of panic before she pulled herself together. Okay. 1960. If the device could bring her here, it could send her back. But first, maybe she could turn this situation to her advantage. So she marched out of the compound and into the streets beyond.
As she made her way towards more populated areas, she noted that this town was in many ways not like the one she had left. Its citizens were more carefree, its streets more crowded, its shops more busy. It no longer looked like a town recovering from war. She was pleased to see it, even though Italy had been on the other side of the war. It was a relief to see that those wounds would heal, on both sides.
She was pulled from her thoughts as she caught sight of a newspaper stand, which confirmed that she had, in fact, time-traveled. The front page story reported riots, but as she flipped through the pages she found nothing pertinent to herself, the war, or Steve. She darted into an alley and pulled the device from her coat pocket. With a bit of experimenting, she determined the function of the largest and most conspicuous buttons and knobs. She turned the dial that altered the date on the machine's tiny screen until it displayed the day she had come from. She pressed the blue button in the center and the blinding light swept over her again… When she could see again, she was standing in the same alley, but more dilapidated. Peering around the corner, she confirmed that she had returned to her own time. She would investigate more later, but for now, she headed for the rendezvous point that would take her home.
JUNE 2015
Peggy flashed into existence behind a bush. Since acquiring the device, she had been jumping forward a little at a time, hoping for any information about Steve. Everyone in Peggy's time told her that he couldn't have survived. Howard had been searching for the plane ever since the war ended, but after years of failure, even his determination was wavering. She hadn't told him about her little adventures just yet. Someday, she would find Steve and then she would bring Howard with her so they could both get some closure and give Steve the goodbye he deserved. But first, she needed to do this herself.
Over many journeys, she had developed a protocol for arriving in a new time period. The device traveled in time, but her physical location remained constant. So she had chosen a place that had been around for centuries and ought to last for centuries to come: the Tower of London.
From there, she made her way to the British Library. It hadn't existed in her day, but she'd made use of it often since discovering it in the early 80s. It received a copy of every book published in the entire country, which made it perfect for her research. It would have been better, of course, to start off in, say, New York, where American history would be more thoroughly studied. However, people, particularly Howard, would start to notice if she kept popping over to America on unexplained business trips. So London it was.
Things had changed a bit since her last visit in 2010, although for her it had only been a week ago. Those electronic screens were becoming more widespread, and increasingly tiny. She was coming to the conclusion that her device wasn't just high-tech; its technology hadn't even existed in her time. She'd been watching in fascination as the technology she saw in her travels began to look more and more like the piece she carried in her pocket. Still, it remained more advanced than anything she'd seen.
Once in the library, she weaved around the employees and other patrons towards the catalog of newspaper records. These modern "computers" had made her searches much easier recently. She selected a terminal and typed "Steve Rogers" into the search bar, expecting the typical historical articles. What came up instead made her breath catch in the throat: actual photographs of Steve, in color, with backgrounds that clearly hadn't come from the forties. Steve against a backdrop of New York lights, in the strange clothing of this era. Steve in a new uniform, shield on his back. Steve standing amidst rubble and wrecked cars, with five other people. Very unusual people, actually. One was large, green, and wearing nothing but a torn pair of trousers. One was entirely covered by gold and red armor. One looked human, but was dressed in a cloak and armor that would have been cutting edge thousands of years ago. The other two looked fairly ordinary, but it was obvious to Peggy's experienced gaze that they were spies. The article was titled "AVENGERS SAVE NEW YORK." Peggy's head spun. Steve was alive.