Chapter 1: This is a joke
It's been three weeks since Steve Rodgers had been de-thawed, got a crash course in Modern American history and technology. Now, a mysterious box, with the warning: FRAGILE stamped across it with big, bold, letters. It was a wooden box, the type he hadn't seen since his time. He only had his shield and his serum enhanced strength to pry it open. It had to be a joke, the time displaced man thought to himself.
Then he grabbed his shield, like how the wheel was to the potter, his shield was to him. It was a part of him, and he couldn't get rid of it. SHIELD letted him keep it, along with his compass with Peggy's photo inside of it. He pried the lid off of the wooden box, and found it full of straw, no not the type farmers used as bedding for their livestock, but the type that came in packages that contained fine pieces of china. In the middle of it, was a big, ostrich egg.
"This has to be a joke," he muttered to himself, for who would send him an ostrich egg of all things?
It had to be from Stark, when he first met the famous, wealthy inventor, he thought that Howard had figured out a way to clone himself. Only Stark would be crazy enough to send him a giant egg, or maybe it was in good faith, because due to the Super soldier serum, he had an increased metabolism. And that meant, he ate, a lot. When he first woke up, he wanted to grab a quick bite to eat, but he soon found out, that his body had to catch up on going for seventy years without eating.
He gently placed the egg on a dish towel, and no sooner than he did, it began to rock back and forth. Curious, he stayed by, to watch it hatch. He was expecting an ostrich chick to come out, but a large, almost snow white scaly dragon-like creature came out.
It was roughly the size of a fully grown house cat, from the tip of its slender snout to the tip of its tail. It had two crests over its eyes, and a row of bumpy spikes down its neck to its back. It had quills jutting out on both of its forearms, and on its head and the start of its neck. It chittered and coo'd at him, rubbing against the palm of his hand. Its eyes where blood red, with tiny flecks of gold in them. It was both beautiful and creepy at the same time.
"You want me to feed you, don't ya?" he asked himself, but the elated chittering and purring from the creature told him it understood what he said.
He walked over to his fridge, and opened the door. Between the fruits and vegetables, he found an old friend in a packet of Nathan's all beef hotdogs. Then he found the ground beef he had purchased earlier to try his hand at recreating Bucky's Ma's homemade meatloaf. He put the hotdogs back, and pulled out the ground beef. He got out a small dish, and placed some of the beef on it.
He found that the creature hadn't moved since it had hatched. He wondered where it came from, but he didn't care. Bucky used to joke that he always found strays and had to smother them with love and affection.
She watched from the strange nest, as Father got her some food. She didn't have a name yet, but she wondered if she will get a name. He was odd, for he didn't have any claws or sharp teeth to defend himself, but then again, she didn't have any sharp teeth. He put something down in front of her, and she sniffed it. It smelled fresh and bloody, and tasty. She tore into it, the pieces of meat dangling from her jaw.
Steve stood there transfixed, and mildly horrified if one asked him later on, at how the creature in his charge ate. He looked at it again, and found out it was female. She needed a name. After she cleared the plate, he held out his hand, he mentally cursed himself later that he forgot to clean off the ground beef off his arm. She purred and then she nipped at his hand, drawing blood. Her mouth must be lined with tiny, razor sharped teeth.
"Ow! That hurt!" he scolded, and to his shock, he saw her flinching back, her red-gold eyes pleading. Then he picked her up, where he could feel her purrs vibrate against his neck.
"Okay, you need a name,"
He ran over to his couch, holding his new-found stray in his arms, to his book shelf. He had stocked it with books about World War Two, and the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, for he had read the Hobbit as a child growing up. Then he thought about the trailblazers in his life, particularly the female ones who had a profound impact on his life.
"Sarah?" he asked, not before a flash of pain hit his heart. The creature in his lap gave a hiss, like, Don't you dare name me after your mother.
"Peggy?" Another hiss was his answer, so she was not going to be named after his failed romance with the spit-fire of a British agent.
"Rosie?" More hissing came from her mouth. He had to agree with her on that one, she wasn't going to be named after a piece of wartime propaganda.
"Amelia?" This time, a pleased purr came from her tiny chest. She was going to be named after the famed pilot.
Over the corse of the next three months, Amelia had grown from the size of a house cat to the size of a Labrador puppy. Like a five year old child, she was greatly observant and curious about the world around her, and she loved to get into everything. Steve made sure he Amelia proofed his apartment. Too bad she quickly figured out how child safety locks work. He was nervous about taking her to SHIELD with him, but he had to get adjusted to his new time period. The only thing that seemed to calm her down enough to get her to stay still was music from his time period. Frank Sinatra did the trick, when he played 'I'll be home for Christmas', and she laid down and listened to the somber song.
She was in his side car that was attached to his motorcycle, her head in the air. No matter how strange looking she was, she was a part of him now. She filled a hole in his heart that was empty ever since Bucky had died.
