May 2012, SHIELD helicarrier

The explanation about the creation of Lady Liberty and her subsequent work lasted the remainder of the journey, and the quinjet landed on the carrier exactly thirty minutes later, the rear hatch opening to allow the three passengers to disembark.

Phil beckoned a crewman over. "Stow Agent Carter and the Captain's gear."

"Yes, sir."

"Morning, Nat," Peggy greeted as Natasha approached them.

Natasha nodded. "Sharon."

"Agent Romanov," Phil said, "Captain Rogers."

Steve gave her a smile. "Ma'am."

"Hi." Natasha turned to Phil. "They need you on the bridge. They're starting the face trace."

Peggy absently acknowledged Phil's departure, focussing on Steve. "Natasha's one of the few people who knows the truth. And she was the one who told me you weren't dead."

"Well, Dr Simmons was a little busy trying to thaw him out," Natasha said, falling into step beside them.

"What were you even doing down there?" Peggy asked.

"Crowd control," Natasha answered. "It was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice," she added to Steve. "I thought Coulson was gonna swoon. Has he asked you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?"

"Trading cards?" Steve repeated, startled.

"They're vintage," Peggy said. "He's very proud." She almost smiled at the incredulous expression on his face, but bit it back in favour of patting his arm sympathetically. "He's a good man, Captain, and an excellent agent. I'd trust him with my life any day of the week. And it took him a few years to ask me to sign them, don't worry." Her steps faltered slightly as she caught sight of the man waiting nervously by one of the planes. "Coulson said you convinced him, Nat, but I didn't quite believe it."

"Dr Banner," Steve greeted, extending his hand.

Banner exuded nerves, something that made Peggy just a little nervous herself.

All intelligence seemed to suggest that the man's alter-ego appeared when he was angry, but she wasn't entirely convinced that fear didn't help to coax him out as well.

Nevertheless she gave him a smile and followed Steve's example. "Sharon Carter. It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor."

"Word is you can find the Cube," Steve added.

Banner gave them a self-deprecating smile. "Is that the only word on me?"

"Only word I care about," Steve said firmly.

Banner's smile grew a little more genuine, and he gestured towards the hustle and bustle around them. "Must be strange for you, all of this."

Steve shrugged. "Actually, this is kind of familiar, just on a bigger scale."

"Gentlemen," Natasha interrupted, a hint of a smirk in her voice, "you might wanna step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breathe."

"Thanks for the warning," Peggy muttered, switching her communicator to public, her voice joining almost seamlessly with the PA system. "Flight crew, secure the deck."

"Is this a submarine?" Steve asked in bewilderment, as alarms began blaring across the carrier.

"Really?" Banner asked, with a sardonic snort. "They want me in a submerged pressurised metal container?"

Peggy watched, amused, as both men approached the edge of the carrier, peering down at the turbo engines that were emerging from the murky depths and preparing for take-off.

"Oh, no, this is much worse," Banner said, almost brightly.

"Time to get inside," Peggy said, switching the radio frequency back to private.

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea," Banner said.

Peggy gave him a reassuring smile. "Just let me know if there's anything we can do to make things easier."

They followed Natasha inside to the bridge and main control room, the redhead throwing a glance over her shoulder to catch the amazement that crossed Steve's face. Peggy drifted closer to him, letting her arm brush against his, giving him an anchor to help him deal with yet another reminder of how drastically the world had changed.

The carrier could overwhelm someone born in the 21st century, and not even a month ago for Steve, a meeting like this would have been held in a dark tent with a wireless and a map.

The command centre was a bustle of activity, each agent working flawlessly with those around them to get the carrier airborne. Amidst the scurrying agents, like the queen bee in the centre of the hive, Maria Hill was taking charge. "All engines operating. SHIELD Emergency Protocol 193.6 in effect." She turned to Fury. "We're at level, sir."

"Good," Fury said. "Let's vanish."

Hill nodded sharply. "Engage retro reflection panels."

Steve's jaw dropped. "Are we seriously …?"

"Going to turn invisible?" Peggy finished quietly. "No. The retro-reflection panels reflect the sky around us and make it look like we have."

A moment later, one of the bridge technicians responded. "Reflection panels engaged."

Satisfied, Fury turned to face the newcomers. "Gentlemen."

Without a word, Steve reached into his pocket, pulled out a ten-dollar bill and handed it to Fury.

Whatever the reason behind the exchange, it clearly made sense to the director, who pocketed it with a smile, and directed his attention to Peggy. "Agent Carter."

"Director Fury," Peggy greeted. "I hope you're not expecting a mission debrief at this precise moment in time."

"Obviously not," Fury said, turning to Banner with his hand outstretched. "Dr Banner, thank you for coming."

Banner only hesitated momentarily before shaking his hand. "Thanks for asking nicely. So how long am I staying?"

"Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the wind," Fury said.

"Where are you with that?" Peggy asked, following Natasha to the edge of the walkway to check on Clint's face-trace. She had lost count of the number of times she had seen this technology in action, but it was unsettling, seeing Clint's face on the screen, his information laid out beneath it.

"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet," Phil answered. "Cell phones, laptops … if it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us."

"It's still not gonna find 'em in time," Natasha said, with the certainty of a woman who had made herself disappear numerous times and knew what her partner was capable of, because she was the one who taught him.

"You have to narrow your field," Banner said, shedding his jacket. "How many spectrometers do you have access to?"

Peggy turned her back on the trace to give the man her full attention. All nerves had evaporated now he was in his element.

Fury shrugged. "How many are there?"

"Call every lab you know," Banner told him. "Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we can rule out a few people." He paused. "Do you have somewhere for me to work?"

Fury nodded, waving Natasha over. "Agent Romanov, would you show Dr Banner to his laboratory please?"

Natasha nodded sharply, any and all traces of her concern for Clint vanishing behind her mask. "You're gonna love it, Doc; we've got all the toys."

As she led Banner away, Steve stepped closer to Peggy. "And for those of us who aren't geniuses?"

Peggy gave him a stern look. "Don't pretend you don't have a brain, Captain. You're more intelligent than people give you credit for."

"Alright," Steve conceded. "For those of us who've never encountered this technology before?"

Peggy smiled. "The computers are searching images we can get from various cameras across the globe and running them through a program that compares any faces against those of Loki and Agent Barton. It's all mathematical, looks at the distance between their eyes, length of their nose, that kind of thing. When we get a match, we'll get an alert. We're assuming the Tesseract is with them, so Dr Banner is going to work his magic, see if we can find places giving off more than the usual amount of gamma radiation, and then we can focus our efforts on those places, rather than the entire planet."

"And yet we have no flying cars," Steve quipped.

Peggy chuckled. "I know. Howard owes me twenty bucks." Her smile faded quickly. "At least he would."

For a few moments, the spectre of Howard Stark seemed to look over them, bringing with him everything Peggy did not want to deal with right at this moment.

"Carter," Fury said. "Need a word."

Peggy joined him over by the conference table, aware that Steve was following closely, but not concerned by it. "Director?"

"The World Security Council is obviously concerned about Agent Barton," Fury said heavily. "He's an awful person for Loki to have taken."

"Not if you're Loki," Peggy said darkly. "He's an excellent person to have taken. Thankfully, Barton's not good at following orders, so he'll be fighting it."

"We don't know that," Fury said.

Peggy raised an eyebrow. "He shot you in the chest, Director. He's joked about you sleeping in that vest in the past. He's fighting."

Fury sighed. "Regardless, Agent Carter, we have been given our orders. When we find Barton, we are to proceed with extreme prejudice."

Peggy narrowed her eyes. "You touch my boy," she said softly, "and I will destroy you."

"Agent Carter," Fury began.

Peggy turned on her heel and strode out, knowing that Steve was still following her.

So once she was in her office, she held the door long enough to let him in as well, before slamming the door shut, grateful that she had a regular rather than a sliding door.

Closing the latter just didn't provide the same satisfaction.

Steve leaned against her desk. "I know you don't want to hear this," he began.

"They're right," Peggy said heavily. "I know that. I just … I have to give him the chance, Steve."

"We will," Steve said. "Of course we will. You say he's fighting it, I'll follow your lead."

Peggy raised an eyebrow. "Not going to tell me my emotions are getting the better of me?"

"Absolutely not," Steve said immediately. "I know you. You always were excellent at compartmentalising; I doubt that's changed."

Peggy hesitated. "If … If we can't get him back …"

"Let's cross that bridge if we come to it," Steve said, his hand brushing against hers. "Is there a connection between Agent Barton and Agent Romanov? She seems … connected."

Peggy managed a smile. "They're partners."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Professionally or personally?"

"Yes," Peggy said simply. "I don't know exactly the ins and outs of their personal relationship. What I can tell you is that Strike Team Delta is the best team I have ever worked with, and I'm going to include the Howling Commandos in that."

"Really?" Steve asked.

"I've never seen anything like it," Peggy said. "I can send Nat and Clint in with no comms, hardly any information, and no prior chance to discuss it, and they will pull it off. I swear they can read each other's minds."

"You mean that's not a thing yet?" Steve asked dryly.

Peggy chuckled. "Not yet." She sighed. "I might need you to make the call, Steve."

"What call?" Steve asked.

"If we can't get him back," Peggy said softly. "I like to think I'll keep a clear head. But if I'm not … if we need to … I might need you to make the call."

Steve was silent for a few moments, before he covered her hand with his entirely. "If it comes down to it, I'll let you know if I think you might be compromised. But you know him, not me. You - and Agent Romanov - should be the only people who can make that call."

There were no cameras in her office on the carrier, so Peggy didn't think twice about stepping closer to him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

He hugged her close, letting her breathe in his scent.

"Will you think any less of me," she said quietly, "if I need you to pull the trigger if it comes down to it?"

Steve pressed a kiss into her hair. "Of course not. I wouldn't judge any mother who couldn't do that."

Peggy smiled a little, despite the topic. "You know I'm not actually his mother."

"Yeah, and Buck wasn't actually my brother," Steve said. "Doesn't mean a damn thing."

Peggy squeezed him just a little tighter for a moment. "We had a funeral."

"You found him?" Steve asked, his voice a little rough.

"His arm," Peggy said gently, lifting her head. "And his dog-tags. I told his family myself."

"Thank you," Steve murmured, resting his forehead against hers.

"Of course," Peggy said. "I mourned as well, you know."

"I didn't think you two ever really talked," Steve said. "Did you?"

"Only once," Peggy said. "He came to my office and sat in silence for about ten minutes, then stood up, shook my hand and said, "Good luck, Carter - you have no idea.""

Steve made a strange noise that sounded like he had tried to laugh and cry at the same time.

"Like I didn't already know," Peggy said, checking her reflection. "You jumped on a grenade for God's sake." She sighed. "Right, back to the bridge."

Fury acknowledged their reappearance with a nod but said nothing to her about their previous discussion.

Either way, when Phil stepped on to the walkway beside them, she seized the opportunity gratefully. "Any luck?"

"Not yet," Phil said, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Peggy smirked. "Do you want Captain Rogers to sign your trading cards?"

Phil turned a deep red, scrambling for words. "Well … I … I mean … not now … that would be … but … later … maybe … if it's not too much trouble …"

"No, no," Steve assured him. "It's fine."

Peggy smiled at him, sensing the sincerity in his tone.

"It's a vintage set," Phil added, clearly aware of it as well. "Took me a couple of years to collect them all. Near-mint. Slight foxing around the edges, but …"

"We've got a hit," Sitwell called. "67 percent match! Wait … cross-checking … 79 percent."

"Where?" Phil asked, crossing the room to see for himself.

"Stuttgart, Germany," Sitwell said. "28 Konigstrasse - he's not exactly hiding."

"Captain, you're up," Fury said, before lowering his voice. "Carter, make yourself scarce."

Peggy nodded, jerking her head towards the door. "C'mom, Cap, I'll show you where the uniform is."

Steve followed her off the bridge once more, and down into the lower levels of the carrier. "I can't work out if you're Fury's superior or he's yours."

Peggy smiled. "Little bit of both, I suppose. I guess no one told you the history of SHIELD?"

"Only what you did," Steve said with a frown. "Why, did you have something to do with the start-up?"

"Something like that," Peggy said dryly, punching in the access code. "I'll tell you later; we've got work to do."

"We?" Steve asked.

"Yes, we," Peggy said, as the door slid back. "Uniform's over there," she added needlessly. It was sitting behind glass like a museum exhibit, the name Captain S Rogers written beneath it.

She wasn't sure who had labelled it that, instead of Captain America, but she made a note to find out and thank them.

While Steve retrieved it, she pulled her own uniform out from its hiding place.

Peggy didn't think twice about stripping down and changing there. As far as Steve was concerned, 1945 was two months ago, and privacy had been a rare thing during the war.

They were working now, and she was Agent Carter, not Peggy, so he wouldn't even consider looking.

Not that she'd mind if he did.

Sure enough, when she turned around, he was changed and facing away from her. Taking a moment to admire the way the uniform clung to his posterior, she cleared her throat. "You can turn around."

She let her eyes rake up his body as he did, and when they settled on his face, he had turned slightly pink. "Sorry," she said, non-apologetically.

He made a few strangled attempts to speak, before giving up and sweeping her into a kiss that would have been at home on a Hollywood movie set.

It was hardly the appropriate time or place, but she couldn't help melting into it, caressing his face as he pulled away. "Not that I'm complaining," she whispered, a little breathless," but what was that for?"

"I know you said stars and stripes," Steve said, releasing her, "but I think it looks better on you."

Peggy laughed, tying her hair back. "I'll have to disagree with you on that one, Captain," she said, pulling on her helmet and strapping on the shield.

"Why didn't they just call you Captain America?" Steve asked.

"They did for the first year," Peggy admitted. "And then they realised I wasn't male." Her comm crackled in her ear, and she held up a hand to stop his response. "Captain Rogers ready for duty, sir," she said, handing Steve his own earpiece. "Instructions?"

"Agent Romanov is waiting in a quinjet to fly Captain Rogers and Lady Liberty to Stuttgart."

"Understood," Peggy said, glancing at Steve. "You ready?"

Steve gestured to the door. "After you, Agent Carter."