Refresher Course

by CapandCarter

Agent Carter finally gets to come out from an undercover mission, only to find out she's out of date with protocols. When forced to take beginners training, her only bright spot is that a legend has to take it with her. Except he's not what she expected. He's kind of a jerk…

2. Chapter 2

They walk up to the group and slide onto the bench seats. "What's going on?" Dugan asks, grabbing a roll off of Rogers' plate.

All eyes are on Rogers, waiting for his reaction, but he doesn't react, just continues eating.

"How do you eat so much?" Peggy asks, eyeing the mountain of food. She remembers his large plate the other time he'd been eating as well. "Not that that's a bad thing." She quickly adds, at the snickers from the men.

Rogers just shrugs and continues eating.

Dugan eyes her and she feels the challenge without him saying it. "So." She starts again, "what do you like to do in your free time?"

His eyes flick up to her and narrow, "what free time? I came out of undercover and immediately was forced to take this course."

That's when it hits her. "Did Fury promise you that you would take his job someday?" She internally seethes. He'd said as much:

That spiel that just worked on you? It was tried and tested on the first person I had to convince.

But he furrows his brow, "what?" He shakes his head, frowning, "No. And if he offered it to me, I'd say no."

She relaxes slightly, even as his words make her roll her eyes, "well, if you had free time what would you do?" She presses.

"Who cares?" He says in annoyance, hands splayed on the table in front of him. There's a silence where they don't know what to say. He looks at his plate of food and sighs, grabbing the tray and stalking out of the tent.

"Yikes." Peggy says with a huff, "he doesn't give an inch."

"Never has." Morita says wryly.

—

Peggy works the next morning to decode the ridiculously complicated message that Fury had sent ahead of them.

Eventually the message read.

Intel coming via informant. Singular mole. Can't spring trap too early. Need to know where the tentacles are spread.

A location and a time were at the end and she shredded the message after she allowed Rogers to read it.

"So now we wait." She says lightly.

His frown deepens, "now we wait."

—

Apparently no one waits well.

Including herself.

They run in the mornings, Rogers far ahead without looking back.

Then they work through the protocol drills that Fury and Hill sent along with them, while also, ever so slowly and subtly, peeling back the layers on their recruits.

Natasha is guarded the whole time, but her answers ring true and both Rogers and she decide that Natasha is unlikely to be Hydra. She is honest about her background in the Red Room and her timeline checks out.

—-

"If Barton's Hydra, I'll eat my hat." Peggy says quietly to Rogers one evening over Barton's file.

He nods in agreement. "I'd bet my hand that he's not. But that's what I hate most about Hydra. They're in plain sight and they're too fucking good at pretending they're not."

She sighs and they go back to scouring through files.

—-

Each moment she spends with him, she learns a little something new. Her penchant for details serves her well.

He does not like hot coffee. He likes it cold. And since they're in the middle of nowhere at the moment, he gets a cup, lets it cool completely, and then drinks it. She can't decide if she's revolted or amused.

His fingers almost never cease movement if his mind is otherwise occupied. While reading reports or listening to recordings, his fingers will be tapping on his fatigues, twirling a pen, or shuffling items on a desk. She knows he's not nervous, and she chalks it up to a seemingly never ending source of energy.

His hearing seems impeccable. His head will perk up seconds before she can hear footsteps.

And lastly, something that she finds out by accident:

She wakes with cramps, sweating and grumpy as her period kicks into high gear. She groans quietly, not wanting to wake Lorraine or Natasha who are behind the large canvas divider separating their rooms. She drinks some water, takes some ibprofen and waits, hoping for the ability to return to slumber.

No such luck.

With a sigh, she strips to her underwear and a tank top, grabs her towel and flip flops and makes her way to the temporary showers. There's men's shower times and women's shower times but at 3:27 am it's a free for all. She enters and it's, like she expected, empty. She runs a hot shower, thankful for the heat that has had time to rebuild. It soaks it into her skin, soothing her muscles and the cramps a bit. She has no idea how much time passes but she shuts the water off and is about to reach for her towel when the plastic door creaks open.

She goes rigid.

She looks at her towel, hanging by the door, and berates herself quietly for putting it so far away. With only seconds to spare she quickly slips into one the closest changing stall and goes silent.

She peeks around the corner, hoping to see a familiar face so she could explain what happened and to ask for them to hand her her towel. But she stops dead as she sees blonde hair and a broad back facing her.

Rogers.

Oh hell.

She slinks back, and curses her luck silently to herself.

The tell-tale sounds of him removing his clothes can be heard and she hears the water running.

The temptation to look around the corner at him is immensely strong, knowing what a sight that would be. But she imagines the situation reversed and it clears her head, keeping herself hidden and her eyes firmly away from him.

She's about to give up the ghost and just embarrass them both by asking for her towel when she stops. Her ears in disbelief.

He's humming.

He hums softly, the sound so quiet that she has to strain to hear it, but it's there.

It grows a little louder as the shower progresses, and every once and a while she hears him sing out a line or two. Something about it makes her physically grieve for him. Leaning over, clutching at her naked chest and keeping a hand over her mouth to keep her breathing silent. She feels so overwhelmingly sad, that only in his most alone (so he thinks) moments does he allow himself some sense of self, or personality.

He's not there long. Maybe less than 15 minutes. But when he's gone, she finds she can't walk out just yet.

This is one bit of knowledge about him she does not feel obliged to share.

Her phone says 4:24a.m. By the time she returns. She grabs a clean shirt and throws it on, sinking into her bed and staring at the canvas ceiling until she falls asleep once more.

—

Breakfast is a relatively quiet affair until Dugan and Monty are complaining about the lack of hot water for their morning showers.

"Is that why Cap takes his showers at 4 am?" Morita jokes, stabbing at his plate of unappetizing eggs.

"You always did hate cold water." Jones adds, jostling Rogers with his elbow.

The man in question just rolls his eyes at their comments but Peggy watches as Natasha's eyes go just a tad wide and then she looks directly at her.

Peggy raises an eye at the redhead, "what?"

Her lips play into a small mischievous smile, "oh nothing."

Peggy frowns, she does not like the sound of that. But for some reason she doesn't press.

—-

They finish with the training protocols that Fury had sent, and the day of the informant arriving is getting closer when the worst happened.

The informant is delayed.

"You've got to be bloody joking." Peggy hisses, finishing the decryption of the cypher.

Informant delayed. ETA unknown. Remain at location. SP Protocol. No exceptions.

She hands the note to Dugan who is beside her in the command tent. "Looks like we're stuck here." Then she tilts her head. "What's SP Protocol? I've no recollection of that."

Dugan's mouth is moving into a wide grin and then he laughs, "oh shit, you're kidding."

She looks at him curiously, "what is it?"

He shakes his head, "hold on, you're going to want to see this in person." He waves her off her chair and she follows him out the tent and over to where the rest of the team is working on their language skills.

Dugan sidles up to Rogers and hands him the message. "Peggy deciphered it. Didn't you, Carter?"

She furrows his brow and nods, "yes, I did but he refused to explain the SP Protocol."

Monty, Morita, Denier, and Jones stop immediately and look up, surprise on their faces. Rogers' hands have gone completely still.

"Why." He asks sharply.

Dugan just shrugs, clearly still amused, "didn't say. But you can see in the message it says 'No Exceptions'."

Rogers glares at him and Dugan grins. "You know the rules, Cap. Fury always has a reason."

The frown on Rogers' face is so deep.

"Care to let us in on this little secret?" She asks in annoyance. When he just laughs, she gets annoyed. "You're not expecting me to wait until tonight to find out what the hell you're talking about do you?" Her voice is sharp and she leaves no room for them to try to brush her off.

"Who wants to do the honors?" Dugan asks, "Cap?"

"Go to hell, Dugan." The man says flatly, going back to his report.

"Okay," Dugan says with a laugh, "guess that means me." He sits down on one of the desks and gestures at Peggy, "before you were Shield, we figured out that Hydra tattooed or marked their member's bodies." He blinks lazily and points to his chest. "They usually would have it somewhere that could be covered, not easily seen, some even did the bottoms of their feet."

"Like fucking death eaters." Morita says with a laugh, "them and their weird little skull and tentacle tattoos."

She looks on in surprise, not having known this.

"So we developed SP protocol." He grins, like he's about to give her the best news ever. "Strip Poker protocol."

Her eyebrows furrow, "I beg your pardon?"

He laughs, slapping his knee, "we didn't use this protocol often, more a desperate times, desperate measures type deal. And we never had a game last very long. Usually the suspected Hydra agent refused to play, which outed them, or they did play not knowing we knew about the tattoo and we would nail them—" Jones snorts but Dugan keeps going. "As far as I'm aware, Hydra never caught on to the fact that we knew about that. Which means…" he turns to Cap, "how do you wanna manage this with the girls?"

Peggy can hear the challenge in the question. And she finds she's curious about the answer as well.

Rogers looks up and glares at him. "Don't be an idiot, Dugan."

The man smiles innocently, "whatcha mean, Cap?"

"You know what the hell I mean." Rogers stands up and snatches his reports off the table and stalks out.

Peggy sits in a chair in a huff, "well I don't know what the hell you mean." She snaps.

Monty walks over and slugs Dugan's shoulder, "you're pushing rather hard, Dum-Dum."

Dugan just shakes his head, "you all aren't pushing enough!"

"I swear if someone doesn't fully explain—" Peggy starts.

"He's always hated this game, but it's effective as hell. And he knows we can't separate or that will tip off the recruits if we're "randomly" playing gender split Strip Poker. And he hates winning since it makes other people embarrassed. All around it's his least favorite thing and all of our favorite thing to watch."

Peggy leans back and stares at them, "you're going to tell me that Nicholas Fury, the director of one of the leading security organizations in the world, resorts to strip poker of all things to take down terrorists?"

Denier speaks rapidly in French and Jones laughs, "Denier's right. It's simple. Hydra never expected it. That's why it works."

She rolls her eyes, "unbelievable."

But Dugan grows serious, "I need to make sure you understand that we think it's funny because of Cap. Not because it means the female recruits being undressed." He stands, looking at her dead on, "you don't have to play either. Only the recruits really need to be playing."

She raises an eyebrow, "what you think I'm a coward?"

"No, I—"

"You think I should be ashamed of my body?"

She's teasing him now but the way he gapes at her makes it worth it. "What? No—"

"I'm playing, Dugan." She says with a laugh, "I've got nothing to hide and I won't be left out of the chance to win that bet, though it seems bloody unlikely."

Dugan relaxes and is instantly back to his jolly self. "Then I guess we will see you at 9."

She's out of her seat and nodding, "indeed."

—-

When she arrives at the fire pit at 8:50p.m. Morita is there, stoking the fire.

"I have a question." She states, sitting in one of the camp chairs around the circle.

"Yeah?"

"Why does Rogers play if he hates it so much? Surely he could refuse and still see if there's a tattoo on the agent while the others play?"

Morita laughs, "yeah he tried that once."

She leans forward, "And?"

"He found himself signed up for three hospital visits in his full uniform."

She blinks, "what?"

Morita sets the logs just so, "when Fury found out that he was 'shirking' his duty by not playing—" he shakes his head, "he signed Cap up for hospital visits. Children's hospitals. In full uniform, cowl and all. Which if you know Cap, he would never let the kids down like that by not showing up. So he had to go to three different hospitals, in his full uniform."

"That's a punishment for him?"

Morita looks at her and she swears he rolls his eyes, "not the hospital part, the part where all the kids idolize his Shield persona. He hates how glorified his name has become. So he'd rather visit the hospitals on his own terms, 'not like a fucking action figure'. His words, not mine. Dugan told he thinks he's bad luck, right?"

"Yes."

"He hates being idolized in any shape or form. Especially when he thinks he's been the cause of so many problematic occurrences."

She sighs, "does the self-flagellation end at some point with him?"

Monty's approaching and Morita studies her, "I get why it might look that way from the outside." He says, his voice getting lower, "it's just… you don't know him. It's hard to explain without soun—"

"Hello." Monty says, joining the circle, "ready for this, how shall I say… 'shitshow'?"

"Why are we doing this in the dark?" Peggy asks suddenly, "won't it be more difficult to see the tattoo?"

"Eh, we all have good eyesight, 'specially Cap. And we found on previous missions that darkness makes people more relaxed, they let down their guard. That's when we nail them."

"Please can we stop using that phrase." Jones says with a laugh as he walks up to the circle, "you guys are killing me."

—-

She's not sure how the informed the recruits to be there, but they each show up a bit warily as they sit around the campfire.

—

The last to arrive is Rogers, precisely at 9p.m. And the circle is quiet upon his arrival. He sits down and in a movement so quick she almost misses it, he flicks his wrist, "here, Dugan. Tradition right?"

Dugan laughs and nods, "yeah Cap, you remembered!" He holds out his hand and flashes a deck of cards, "back in the old days, when we were told to hang still, we had to pass the time somehow."

Peggy watches as the recruits relax, thinking they were being initiated as part of the team. She feels impressed.

"Morita, what do you think? What game?"

Morita yawns, "don't ask me, I chose '7-card no peaky night baseball' last time and ya'll complained when I took your money."

Denier laughs and nods, pretending to remember that.

"I say classic Texas Hold 'em." Jones offers.

"No—" Dugan grumbles, "we don't have a table, and I don't want to go inside. Blackjack?"

Monty is saying something when she feels eyes on her. She turns to see ROgers staring at her, and the barest raise of an eyebrow is like a glaring symbol for what he expects.

Well, hell.

"I've got an idea." She offers, leaning forward and smiling wickedly, "unless you lads are too sheepish?"

The question hangs in silence and she smirks, "Strip Poker. But we bet at the beginning. Last man or woman with a stitch of clothing wins the lot." She waits, leaning back, "I mean, it's all about getting know each other, yeah? What better way?"

Dugan looks at her with a grin and chuckles, "that will be a new experience." He lies easily.

She doesn't let the moment pass, "well? Any cowards?"

When it remains silent, she nods, "alright then, Strip Poker using 5 card draw. $50 ante in. Morita, deal."

—

Monty holds his shirt over his lap and laughs as Denier glares at Jones as he slips out of his boxers and sits stark naked on the chair. Peggy's looking at the fire and trying not to burst into laughter at the turn of events.

She's only lost a shoe and a single sock so far, and Rogers is still completely dressed. Romanoff and Barton are almost fully clothed and Lorraine and Sitwell are half dressed. The other four recruits, all male, and of whom only one has a tattoo so far of an owl face, are down to their skivvies and looking nervous.

Jones is missing his shoes, socks, shirt, and belt but is otherwise in good shape.

Dugan and Morita are both only missing their belts.

She raises her eyes as one by one the four recruits lose their underwear and are eliminated just like Monty and Denier. She can't prove Morita is shifting the deck but it seems that way.

But soon, Morita is eliminated and so is Barton who seems comically upset that he lost which makes Peggy want to laugh.

—-

She sighs as she removes her first shirt. She'd come prepared. Dressed in multiple layers but without making it look suspicious. Just 'whoops, guess I wore a tank top and a shirt and a button up on this not very chilly night'. Lorraine is in a tank top and underwear, while Sitwell and Jones are now both out. She eyes Rogers suspiciously as he's only lost his shoes.

Romanoff is almost as dressed as her and Dugan is in his boxers and hat.

She feels terrible hoping it's Lorraine and not Natasha.

But Morita, who is still dealing, seems to read her thoughts because Natasha and Lorraine both have a string of crappy hands. Lorraine goes down first, the first female to get undressed, but she isn't shy. Once naked, she just sits on full display in her chair. Peggy watches the men but is surprised to find that none of their eyes linger or really even glance her direction.

But there's also no tattoo. So Peggy's jaw clenches at the fact that it might be Natasha.

When Natasha's underwear finally comes off, Peggy's brow furrows slightly as the woman's skin is clean. Not a mark except some scars.

Peggy fully expects the game to stop, only to be caught off guard when Morita deals another hand.

She looks up at Rogers and Dugan who are her only competition left and realizes if they stop now… the recruits would know something was up, and they still hadn't figured out the mole.

Bloody Nora. She scowls internally.

Her eyes find Rogers and his face looks pained as if his thoughts mirror hers.

But she has no intention of losing.

—

Dugan is surprisingly resilient with his cards, and even though he's down to his boxers and hat, he lasts until Rogers has lost both shoes, socks, his jacket and belt. Peggy is in her tank top and leggings.

But again, she has the funny feeling Morita plays dirty because soon Dugan is grumbling with his hat covering his lap.

Now it's just her and Rogers.

With $750 dollars in the pot. She really wants to win. More out of spite. But there was that new pistol and holster she'd seen.

And her wardrobe was about 3 years outdated.

A few rounds later, she's in her sports bra and underwear, shivering as the night gets colder. Rogers is still in his shirt and pants, but if he doesn't have anything else on, they're practically neck and neck.

When she luckily, (or not, depending on Morita's abilities) wins the next hand, she's surprised when Rogers removes his jeans instead of his shirt. Every male had done shirt first and pants second. Except him.

But she doesn't let it distract her. In the next round, she asks for 3 cards and smiles when she gets what she wants. She looks up to see an annoyed expression on Rogers' face as he glares at Morita.

Morita looks away innocently and Peggy has to hold in a scoff.

So her suspicions are confirmed.

Except they can't out him now as that would again put suspicion on the whole ploy.

She wins the hand and Rogers again surprises them by, without standing up, deftly removes his boxers and places them in his lap. His jaw is set in stone and a weird feeling crawls up her neck.

Why would he take his boxers off before his shirt?

She looks to his team to find their own eyes nailed to their Captain. Okay, so at least she's not the only one who finds that strange.

She thinks Morita switches to fair and square on the next hand and she loses her sports bra. She ignores the way it feels to be so exposed. In her years undercover she'd endured much worse, and she receives no leering stares either.

Its him in his shirt and her in her underwear and everyone's eyes are mostly pointed at the ground.

She holds her new hand, it's decent enough and she might have a chance.

Rogers sighs at his hand and looks up, "you win, Carter. Congrats." He moves to put on his boxers but Dugan's voice cuts through, and its more sharp and serious than she's ever heard.

"Them ain't the rules, Cap. You lost. Take off your shirt."

Rogers' eyes glare at the man, "she won. She gets the money."

Peggy knows something's wrong with this exchange but she doesn't know what.

He can't possibly have a Hydra tattoo can he?

"Rogers," Dugan snaps, "take off your shirt. We all followed the rules. We played fair and square and sat here with our asses out, and you lost. So you do too."

He leans back, "can I at least put my boxers back on before I take off my shirt? That way when you start asking snippy questions I can leave without, as you put it so delicately, 'my ass hanging out'?"

Peggy eyes the recruits who look stunned at the whole exchange. Most of them have already started the process of getting dressed.

Dugan gestures for him to do so and he slips them back over his hips as everyone looks away.

When they hear the sound of him sitting back down they turn back to his face that already looks exhausted.

He crosses his arms, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. It rests on his lap and Peggy has to clench the armrests to keep herself from gasping.

"What the hell are those!" Dugan snarls, pointing at the small 'I's and 'X's in perfect rows starting from his sternum, trailing across his heart and down to just above his belly button. Far more 'I's then 'X's.

"They're scars, Dugan." Rogers says, already grabbing his shirt to put it back on. But Jones catches him off guard, snatching the shirt out of his hands.

"You can't scar." Jones says icily.

That's when Rogers rolls his eyes and stands, the firelight playing off his chest and the dozens upon dozens of marks, "I figured it out." The deadly silence and charged air tells Peggy they do not like that answer.

Dugan snatches Cap's forearm to keep him from leaving, "everyone get the hell out of here." He commands.

The recruits dash off, but Peggy stays, still in disbelief at what she's seeing. What she's remembering.

"Steve," Dugan says, his voice sad and angry, using the man's first name for the first time in Peggy's memory, "what the hell is this? What are you doing to yourself?"

"This is why I didn't want to play this stupid game, it didn't even tell us the mole and now I'm going to have to listen to you guys getting on my case, again."

"Stop!" Monty snaps, "stop pushing us away! We're your team, doesn't that count for something?"

"I don't have a team." Rogers says, voice sharp and cracked, "so stop acting like one. In two weeks I'm back undercover and you can all just actually move on, okay?" He starts to pull out of Dugan's grasp but the man holds tighter.

"I'm not letting you leave until you explain." He points to Rogers' chest.

"I can get out of your hold. You know that right?" Rogers asks in annoyance.

Dugan pulls his other hand up and holds the arm with both. "To do so you'd have to hurt me. Go for it."

Rogers lets out a disbelieving huff and they glare at each other, neither giving an inch.

Rogers' hand points to his chest, his index finger hitting an 'X' "accident." He says in a harsh whisper, then he points to the 'I' "On purpose."

Peggy's lost for only a moment until Dugan looks enraged, shoving Rogers away from him and points at his chest angrily, "Oh? Yeah? And which 'X' is Barnes huh?" He throws his hands up in frustration as the realization hits Peggy. What the scars mean.

Who he kills on accident. His bad luck.

And the far more prevalent, who he's killed on purpose for Shield.

"You think permanently scarring yourself will what?" Morita asks, his voice confused and sad, "make up for what you think is your fault?"

"No." Rogers snaps back, "I don't ever want to forget."

"Forget what!?" Dugan roars, "you spent how many attempts probably torturing yourself to get the scars to stick so you can put some fucking macabre version of Roman Numerals? Not a single one of us would ever accuse you of 'forgetting'! We know you care about everyone, every life, but what the hell, Steve! How longhave you been keeping track?"

Rogers doesn't answer.

"Oh fucking hell." Monty sighs. "The whole time?"

Again, no response.

"You think this is what Barnes wanted?" Dugan asks, "you to be marring yourself?"

"Don't." Steve commands, his voice dropping and fury coloring it.

"Don't what?" Dugan asks, gesturing around them, "don't remind you of what an idiot your being? How much it honestly hurt our feelings when you ditched us as your team?"

Rogers looks momentarily stunned, "I did that be—"

"Because you thought you were bad luck." Dugan cuts him off, "right. And you just made that decision for us. Didn't even ask our opinion, maybe bad luck or not we wanted you as a Captain, huh?" Dugan grabs his stuff and walks off, leaving the rest of them there.

Quietly the other four disappear and it's just her, sitting stunned in a chair as Rogers looks lost, standing in just his boxers.

"Greece." She whispers.

His eyes look at her and he tilts his head.

"I met you in Greece." Her voice is hoarse.

Rogers sinks back into his chair, "what?"

She drops her accent, shifting to a sort of transatlantic speech pattern she'd used while under cover. "'I'm just looking for someone to go dancing with'."

His eyes go wide and his color pales. "Oh you're kidding me."

"You had a beard then. Your hair was brown," she says, "and your eyes weren't blue."

He scoffs, looking so tired as he slowly pulls back on his shirt. "Shield thought the blue of my eyes was too recognizable. They made me wear colored contacts."

But she doesn't respond. She quickly slips into her pants and shirt and stands, walking over to him. She sits in front of his chair and waits until he looks at her, meeting her gaze.

—-

Two Years Ago

Peggy saunters across the tile patio, glad she's used to wearing ridiculous heels. She nods at the bartender and makes her way to the edge, smiling as the lights of Santorini start to glow. The blue rooftops illuminate and she closes her eyes, reveling in the salty sea air and the way it whips her hair around her neck.

She sips her soda, not wanting to be inebriated for what could either be a successful or a disaster of an information transfer.

A man tries to talk to her but after a few searching questions she realizes he's just a civilian looking for a companion. She extracts herself from his desperate gaze soon after and sits on the edge of the wall, feet dangling in the open air as her flowy dress rustles around her calves. The moon is starting to rise and she wishes she could go swimming at the moment.

"Is this seat taken?"

She looks up to see a man, gloriously handsome with brown eyes that almost match hers and brown hair with a beard that looks soft to the touch.

"I suppose I'd allow some company, if you're the good sort."

He settles next to her, eyes on the horizon. "What brings you to Greece?" He asks.

"Business." She answers. "And pleasure."

He looks at her out of the corner of his eyes and she catches him. He looks back towards the horizon.

"And you? Mr…?"

"Cal." He says softly, "you can call me Cal."

"Okay, Mr. Cal. Are you here for business or—?" She drops her voice to a lower tone and draws out the word a bit, "pleasure?"

And he says the phrase she's been waiting to hear all night. "Whatever you want."

She then asks the next question to get him, "and if I asked you to go dancing?"

"I'd have to say yes." He responds easily, eyebrow raising.

"But what if I stepped on your toes?" The last question, the last one to ensure that she's speaking to the right man.

"I think it's more likely I'd step on yours."

It's him. The man she's supposed to transfer information to.

"Well," he asks, "what are we waiting for?"

She smiles, swinging her legs back over the edge, standing, "I suppose I was waiting for you." She winks at him and extends her hand.

He reaches out and takes it, following after her.

They walk along the street, the nightlife pouring out the windows and doors of the shops and restaurants around them. She could start telling him what she knows, it's probably safe at this point, but she hasn't spoken to someone sane in almost a year, and his company is welcome. She feels herself relax at his imposing and yet somehow presence, knowing he's on her side. She still keeps her eyes out though. She's not foolish.

He's significantly taller than the rest, and his looks don't help as he draws eyes everywhere they go.

After they'd left the little rooftop bar, she'd gone to release his hand, but he hadn't let hers go.

"Do you mind?" He asked, and to her surprise he seemed a bit sheepish, "if I'm holding a woman's hand already, it helps."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Helps what?"

But he had just looked at her a bit helplessly and she'd laughed.

Now they walked, their hands together, swinging slightly as they tracked down towards the ocean.

She's ignoring the way her hand fits perfectly into his large palm. He seems at ease with her as well and she smiles at that.

"So, Cal." She says as they walk onto another crowded street, "tell me about yourself."

He looks at her with an eye roll and she laughs, "come now, nothing personal of course, but I don't like knowing nothing about the man I'm going to share intimate knowledge with."

She can't see it but she imagines the way his cheeks heat at her weighted innuendo. Even if she doesn't mean it 'that' way.

He huffs a soft sigh and brings up their hands, "my favorite thing to do is draw." He gently shakes her hand in his and then lets them fall back between them, looking at her expectantly. "And you?"

"I'm actually a bit of a boxer." She says cheekily, "I enjoy learning different fighting techniques."

He looks at her and his eyebrow goes up, "I believe it. You look like you could take anyone out."

"What?" She asks in surprise, "what does that mean?"

He looks at a crowd as boisterous laughter fills the air from one of the close by bars, "I mean," he starts, "I can tell you're not one to be messed with."

Now she's glad the moonlight covers her cheeks. "Who knew I was paired with a flirt." She teases.

He shakes his head, "I'm not, just stating the truth."

His calm and open manner of speaking disarms her in a way she can't explain. "Well, that's very kind of you to say." She admits, ghosting her thumb over his. "So, you like to draw." She says, stepping lightly past a group of what looks like college kids on spring break, "what do you like to draw?"

"Anything that catches my eye really." He says, "I'm not picky. I don't get much time for it, you know."

She laughs softly, "ah yes, the busyness of our jobs. Are you perchance part of the circus?"

She's asking if he's also undercover.

He frowns, but only lightly, "yes, I'm one of the clowns."

So he is.

"Well, it's quite the three rings. Who's your ringmaster?"

He shakes his head, "sorry. I forgot the name."

She glances behind them and wonders what he saw that made him hesitate to divulge.

They walk in silence for a while until they come to a wooden staircase that leads down to one of the beaches.

"Care for a midnight swim?" She asks, "I hear that the ocean is quite soothing at night."

He nods, knowing that they could speak openly out in the water, while still looking like a couple.

They walk down the stairs and onto the soft sandy area. It's small, but it's beautifully lit up in the moonlight.

She takes off her giant hat and shoes, resting them on the sands so her hat won't blow away.

"We could speak here if you'd like." She offers, but then she gets courageous looking at the handsome man in front of her, "but I won't lie, the last time I had fun I was still in my teens it feels, so I wouldn't say no to a swim if you don't mind."

He looks at the water and then her and nods.

She smiles and undoes the zipper on the side. She slips the dress off and looks up to find him facing the other direction, slowly unbuckling his belt and kicking off his shoes.

She decides to leave her bra and underwear on and slips to the water's edge. Feeling the chill from the temperature but not letting it stop her. She walks until the water hits her stomach and she shivers involuntarily.

She wraps her hair up into a loose bun so she can avoid arriving home looking bedraggled.

She turns back to see he is almost waist deep, his boxers dragging backwards as the waves fight against his entrance.

The moonlight illuminates his pale skin and she furrows her brow at the markings on his chest. His broad shoulders are straight as he approaches her. She's up to her neck while he's still below his chest.

"It feels good." He says softly, "when you get used to it."

"Refreshing," she agrees.

He looks back at the empty beach and then up to the city as it glistens on the mountainside.

"It's so beautiful here." He says, seemingly to no one in particular.

"It is." She agrees again, looking at the place she's enjoyed being the last few weeks. "Are you here on assignment?" She hopes the answer is yes so she can see him again.

He shakes his head, "no, just for this." He turns back to her and she catches the way his eyes study her face in the moonlight.

And again she's emboldened, "how long are you here for?"

"Till tomorrow."

"Oh, that's so soon."

He nods, sinking further, "I would prefer to stay here, but it's not where I'm needed."

"And where is that?" She asks, then quickly adds, "if you can tell me."

"Barcelona." He says quietly, "for just a bit."

"It's beautiful there." She says. "The architecture."

"Is it?" He asks, "haven't been. I'll keep that in mind when I go."

She's trailing her hands through the water and his head is tilted back looking at the stars.

"I suppose I should tell you what you need to know." She says with a soft laugh.

He turns to her and runs a wet hand through his hair, "I suppose so."

She lets herself float, rising to the top and staring at the sky. "There's a meeting happening where Greece, Albania, and Macedonia meet. At a location called "poison's goblet". Which sounds straight out of a children's storybook if you ask me. I wasn't given a time or specific date but I know it's happening within the next 5 days. The top two won't be there but a lot of the men under them will be."

He's listening and she shares more details about the one other meeting and a different supply run that's being made that they hope to stop.

When she's finished she looks at him and he's looking at the beach. A group of people are walking down the steps, laughing and talking as they approach.

"Come here." He says deeply, his eyes peeled to the beach. "Some of the people are from the bar we met at."

She gets closer to him, and looks towards the people but she doesn't remember seeing any of them there. "You think we were followed?" She asks.

"Probably not." His eyes narrow as he tries to see better in the night. "Can't ever be too careful though."

"Well," she says with a cheeky grin, "what do you think will throw them off the trail more, going to the beach where they are and leaving, see if they follow us again? Or make them uncomfortable with pda?"

He looks at her in surprise and she laughs, "don't tell me you've never used pda to get out of a sticky situation? That's subterfuge 101."

"I don't prefer being a spy." He says with a raised eyebrow.

"Then why are you in the circus?"

"Clown car kept catching fire."

She studies him as he studies the people on the beach.

"Cal?"

He turns back to her and she swims forward, stopping in front of him. Her hand comes up to his chest, fingers tracing the markings there. "What are these?"

"Things I need to remember." His eyes are sad and it makes her get even closer.

She's looking up at him and he's looking down at her so intensely. She keeps their gaze locked as she slowly places her hands around his neck and then wraps her legs around his waist, feeling his surprisingly warm skin beneath hers.

His voice is a bit raw when he asks, "I suppose you've chosen pda?"

She shrugs, "like I said, why not have some fun, right?"

She doesn't allow him to answer. She presses against him, kissing his neck and then tilting his face towards her, kissing him firmly and running her wet hands up his neck and into his hair.

His hands find her back, caressing her soft skin and grasping at her waist as he kisses her back with equal fervor. When she breaks apart for air, he kisses the junction where her shoulder meets her neck and she feels his fingers trace the shoulder straps of her bra.

She kisses him again, relishing in the feeling of being held by someone who was on the right side. Her hands find his chest, her fingers once again feel the markings but then she clutches at his side while he kisses under her jaw and down her neck.

Her fingers are running through his hair again and she tugs it gently, enjoying how thick and luscious it feels in her hands. He shivers and she smiles as he presses his fingertips into his waist and hips. "You're good at this." She says hoarsely, her eyes fluttering closed.

He laughs—

—-

Her mind goes haywire as the memory of him laughing echoes in her mind.

He'd laughed.

He laughed with her.

She blinks at the man staring at her.

She thinks she'll keep that knowledge to herself. She wasn't part of the bet then. It didn't count.

"I remember thinking you were so charming and nice, but a bit sad." She says, "and an excellent kisser."

He doesn't respond, just lets his eyes drop to his hands.

She reaches up and places her hand on his chest, feeling the bumps from the scars through his shirt. "I remember thinking how strange this sight was. But that was two years ago. There were far fewer."

He sighs, "I kill a lot of people."

Oh she hates those words.

"Mostly deserved, no?"

He doesn't answer that question, changing the subject, "I can't believe I didn't recognize you."

She laughs and pulls her hand back, "I had dyed hair, false teeth, and I wore very tall heels, not to mention I wore my makeup entirely differently. They didn't want the hydra cell I was interacting with to find out I was on a separate mission, so they gave me the works to hide."

"Ah."

"I didn't recognize you either. But I did think you were familiar."

She does something she hasn't done before, uses his first name. "Steve?" He glances up, waiting for her to speak. "This world is not a better place because you place all the blame on your own shoulders."

His eyes grow sad and he just looks into the fire.

Okay, time for something a bit more extreme.

She reaches into her pants pocket and pulls out her small army knife. She flips it open and hands it to him. He takes it, looking confused. She pulls down the collar of her shirt until the skin over her heart is showing. "Okay. I'll need an 'X' right here." She points to her sternum and looks at him expectantly. His mouth parts slightly in surprise. "Come now." She says expectantly, "my first mission got my civilian roommate killed. By your logic I am to blame. Which, I'd have to agree with. And if you've chosen this method, it must be effective. So go on. I've got a bit of a shaky hand when inflicting self harm, and you've obviously had more practice at the perfect tiny 'X's. So right here." Her red nail taps against her skin and she looks up at him. "Any time now."

"Carter."

"Peggy." She cuts him off. "If you're going to carve a letter into my chest, I think we can be on a first name basis."

He sits there, looking utterly lost on what to do.

"See?" She says softly, resting her hand on his bare knee. "See how…" she looks at him hoping her face looks kind, "ridiculous this seems?"

"You—" he starts, placing his head in his hands, "it's—"

"I swear if decorated agent Captain Steve Rogers is about to say the phrase 'you wouldn't understand' or 'it's complicated', I'll have to ask for your ID because we are not still in secondary."

He looks up, "huh?"

"Highschool." She laughs, "we're not in highschool."

"Oh." He says, and the barest ghost of a smile, not quite one, but a lift of the lips, in a way that premonates there might have been one.

She smiles brightly, "do you promise you'll stop this nonsense?" She points to his chest and he winces. "Steve, really."

Something about now knowing she's known him for years, even if they've only encountered each other once… she was more vulnerable with 'Cal' than she was with anyone else in the last 3 years.

"I don't know how." He admits.

She leans forward and tilts her head. "What do you remember about the night we met?"

He looks at her, eyes glazing back into the memory, "I remember everything. Seeing you at the bar, seeing the hat with the color of your dress, that was the signal that you were who I was looking for."

She rolls her eyes. "Steve, what do you remember about our time in the ocean?"

His expression turns guarded, "why?"

"I was undercover, same as you. I know how taxing it is. Never able to be yourself. Never allowed to be vulnerable or let your guard down. But I did. I did in that ocean with you. Even if it was unwise, I trusted you, a complete stranger because you didn't seem like a stranger at all." When he just looks at her quietly, she feels a bit of curiosity, "let me ask you this." He waits, "you said you liked to draw. Is that an actual truth?"

He nods.

She smiles, "okay, and—" she lets her curiosity embolden her, "did you ever draw me after that night?"

His eyes shut as his head tips back towards the sky, "I don't want to answer that question."

She feels a thrill. Somehow she'd met the man she'd wanted to know for so long, without even knowing it was him, and made an instant connection. And now here she was, finding out he thought about her and that night too. He drew her even. She'd had dreams about her time that night in Greece. On her lowest days undercover she would wish that she would accidentally run into him or have to work on a mission together.

And now here they were. Doing just that.

"I want to see." She demands lightly, "please?"

"I don't draw anymore."

This makes her bristle, "why not?"

"Haven't felt the desire too in a long time."

She raises an eyebrow, "have you maybe considered that you might be de—"

"Okay." He huffs, standing up, "I appreciate your concern but it's been a long night. I'm going to bed."

She sits back, watching as he gathers his things quickly and disappears into the darkness.

—-

"So what was that about?"

Peggy looks up to see Natasha looking at her with her breakfast tray in her hands.

"Excuse me?"

"The game last night. You're going to tell me that was a sort of initiation?"

Peggy sighs, rubbing at her forehead, trying to quell the headache that threatens to grow. "It doesn't matter, I can't tell you, and that's all you need to know."

The woman sets her tray down and leans in. "So…" she whistles softly, "you're a good actress."

Peggy narrows her eyes, "what the hell is that supposed to mean."

"You looked as surprised by those scars as the rest of us."

She frowns, "I was surprised."

Natasha rolls her eyes, "yeah right."

"What the hell are you implying?" Peggy feels her hackles raise at Natasha's insinuating tone.

"You've seen them before." The redhead stares plainly.

Peggy is stunned. Not because the girl is wrong, but how the hell does she know that?

So she asks.

"And when, pray tell, am I to have seen them?"

The redhead gives a salacious smirk. "those early morning shower sessions."

Peggy looks at her in confusion, "what?"

And this does make the redhead pause, studying her face. "You and Rogers. Meeting in the showers."

"I have not!" Peggy growls, pointing at the girl, "we have never—"

The woman holds up her hands up in surrender, "woah, woah, I'm just putting the pieces together."

"What pieces?"

"They said Cap takes early showers. I heard you leave the tent just before they said he went there. It added up."

Peggy's shoulders go slack and she huffs out a sigh, finally understanding. "That's not what you think."

"So what was it?"

"Truthfully none of your business, but—" Peggy stabs at her pancake, "I left my tent from some horrific cramps. Thought a hot shower would help. It did. But when I went to leave I heard someone come in. So there I was, naked as a jaybird and

too far from my towel. So I hid in the changing stalls. Rogers took a quick shower and left. I never even saw anything but his back, thankfully. Then I left soon after."

"Oh."

Peggy glares at the woman, "good intuition. Terrible follow through. Work on that." She stands up, yanking her tray off the table and leaving the young woman speechless.

—

Peggy finds Dugan walking around the edge of camp, looking more grumpy than she's ever seen.

"Speak to him today?"

Dugan growls in her direction and she takes that as a 'no'.

"What did Jones mean by he can't scar?"

This finally stops Dugan from what Peggy would describe as stomping moodily.

"You ever hear about Stark and Erskine?"

Her mouth gapes, "hear about him? I was the one who brought Erskine to America. That mission is what put me on Fury's radar!"

"Did he ever talk about his work?"

"Yes, he and Stark talked extensively of their—" Her brain jolts and she racks her brain, now knowing the timeline and Rogers' age, she gasps, "they told us he died before he figured it out!"

"Not quite." Dugan says softly. "They figured it out once. Then Erskine was killed and they couldn't figure it out again." A lot more puzzle pieces clink into place as they circle the camp.

They walk in silence for a while until she gets so angry she stomps off, intent on finding Rogers.

—-

He's stacking supplies boxes onto the flatbed of a large truck.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He looks over at her, not pausing in his work, "tell you what?"

"That you knew Erskine!" She huffs, placing her hands on her hips in annoyance.

Rogers' face looks anguished for a second before falling blank. "Now's not the time to discuss this."

"Well, when is the time?"

He stops and turns to face her, a heavy expression on his face, and dirt clinging to his arms. "What exactly do you want to discuss? That I knew Erskine? That he saved my life and then died in my arms because I wasn't fast enough to save him?" His eyes are dark and expression stony, "how Howard went nuts trying to recreate the serum? Or how Hydra managed to escape with one vial of it and I've spent the last almost a decade trying to figure out what they did with it?!" He's leaning towards her, face angry and he stops and breathes heavily. "So forgive me if I don't want to discuss it."

"Did you know about my connection to him?" She asks softly, trying to turn the subject to something calmer.

"He talked about you all the time. That's how I knew you were a good code cracker. But they couldn't hire you right away, MI6 fought against them even asking."

"They did?"

He nods, "they wanted you before I was even a candidate for the program. But it took them almost three years to get a hold of you."

"You say that like they own me."

He turns back and she watches as he grabs the back of the truck, loaded with dozens of heavy boxes. He barely looks like it takes any effort as he lifts the back of the truck off the ground, raising it over his head and then slowly lowering it till it settles into the dust. His voice is low and steely when he speaks, "we all have a choice. But we don't always know the consequences of it until it's too late."

She's not too proud to admit the awe at his display of strength, her throat is dry as she tries to formulate a response. "Consequences?"

He lifts another box, placing it on the truck bed, "people think I'm invincible. It gets them in trouble. They put way too much trust in me and it gets them hurt or killed. Erskine, Coulson, Ramb—"

"Barnes?" She cuts him off, "you think choosing to be enhanced is what got your friend killed?"

"I know it was." He snaps, "he wouldn't have been on that damn train if it wasn't for me."

"You hauled him by the collar?" She asks a bit snippily.

"You know what I mean."

"No, I suppose I don't. You said 'he wouldn't have been on that train' if it wasn't for you. So you tied him up and carried him over your shoulder?" He looks about to protest when she waves her hand shushing him, "you drugged him and then dragged him there? He was an idiot and couldn't make his own choices?"

"Carter—"

"It's Peggy!" She snaps, never in her life has she argued for a man to use her first name, but she does it now, "he was a man who made his choice to follow you! He wasn't brainwashed!"

"He might as well have been!" Steve snaps back, "all of them are!" He waves in the general direction of the camp, "thinking I'm bigger than life when I'm just an idiot following Shield's orders!"

"Then why follow them?" She asks, glaring at him, "if you don't believe in what you're doing, then why do it?"

He glares out at the horizon, "because I made a promise to myself right after he died; I wouldn't stop until all of Hydra is killed or captured." He turns to her, his face deadly serious, "and when we find this last mole, I'm done. I get to pay them for the rest of my contract and I'm done."

She's stunned into silence as he stalks off.

—-

The upset comes when Peggy hears shouting the next morning. She goes running.

A crowd surrounds something and Peggy pushes her way through. She stops in shock at the sight of Natasha holding Lorraine down, yanking the blonde's hands tightly behind her.

"What's going on!?" She shouts, her voice commanding enough to bring the crowd to a silence.

Natasha looks up, a black eye already forming. "I think you're gonna wanna take a look at the bottom of her foot."

Lorraine struggles, yanking her limbs but Natasha just slams her knee against the woman's back, causing her to shout out in pain.

Peggy notices that Lorraine is half dressed and Natasha's hair is dripping wet.

No one moves so Peggy huffs in annoyance and strides forward. She looks expectantly at Natasha and the redhead points to Lorraine's left foot. Peggy yanks it up and the woman kicks at her. Peggy avoids the lashing limb and then stomps on it. Lorraine yelps in pain and Peggy steps harder, "Stop." She orders, "know when to bloody bow out!"

She kneels on the woman's thigh and rips the sock off. A small tattoo resides on her heel. A skull with tentacles.

"Well, la-dee-da." Peggy says with a deep chuckle, "guess that's that."

—

"So I was just about to get out of my shower when I looked over to see her putting on her socks. I saw a flash of something and when I was in the Red Room… I'd seen that symbol before." Natasha looks up at Peggy and looks at her expectantly, "you guys have been acting weird since we got here. I knew something was up. So when I saw that… Well a mole in our midsts makes sense for what we've been doing. That's when I tackled her."

Rogers looks mildly impressed as he finishes writing up the report and she looks at the girl and raises an eyebrow, "you've yet to fail to impress me, Romanoff. Keep up that sharp eye."

—-

She and Rogers and the rest of the team watch as Lorraine is handcuffed and then set up in a copter to be detained at the nearest Shield facility.

She looks at the recruits who seem a mix of stunned and smug.

"Alright," she says with a clap of her hands, "stay alert. I assume Fury will send us new orders soon."

They nod and the crowd disperses.

—-

They're packing up, loading up their jet when a new communique comes through.

It takes Peggy twice as long to crack it, which infuriates her, but she manages.

11p.m. Helipad. All required to be present.

She glares at the message and then hands it to Rogers who frowns at the message.

—

At 10:35 they start the trek to the helipad. Peggy glances up as a drizzle begins, and she sighs.

The 'whumpf' of the rotator blades is muffled against the rain that really has begun to fall. She wipes the water from her eyes and looks around. The recruits are t still back at the camp, but Rogers, Dugan, Denier, Monty, Jones, Morita stand loosely in a V formation. She instantly recognizes that it must be a familiar position as Rogers is at the front and the others wing off him lightly.

The sound gets louder and she looks up, watching the inky blackness of the sky until the lights of the aircraft appear.

The wind starts to blow her now drenched hair about and she is buffeted a step back. As the copter lands, she watches as Fury jumps out almost immediately. Her eyebrows go up and she looks over to see the surprised look on the other's faces as well.

The blades start to slow and they all stride forward.

When they're wishing hearing distance, Fury holds up a hand to stop them.

"I'll answer every question I can—" he starts, mostly staring at Rogers, "but for now, I don't think this can wait."

"What can't?" Rogers asks, rain water dripping from his hair and down into his collar.

Fury smiles, "this." He gestures back towards the helicopter where a figure is emerging.

Peggy feels the air tense and charge as a man steps out, ducking his head at the door and then landing with a thud on his feet. He looks up and Peggy hears a choked sound escape someone.

"Hey Steve."

Peggy looks to Rogers who looks like he's seen a ghost. She watches as his hand comes up to clutch at his chest and then she hears the men make sounds of distress as their Captain sinks to his knees. But Rogers' eyes are still trained on the man who is now walking towards them.

She feels very lost, but something tells her this is—-

"Bucky?" A very brittle and shaken voice asks.

"Yeah Stevie, it's me."

Stevie?

Barnes. It has to be. But how?

"You're dead." Rogers' voice drops octaves and the accusation is there.

"I almost was. But then—" Barnes looks at Fury, "you could have warned him a bit."

"Hell no. Not with the mole in their ranks."

Barnes sighs and stops in front of his friend, "come on, let's get out of this rain. You know the cold makes you sick."

Jones lets out a snort of laughter and that must spark something because Rogers stands and shakes his head, "I can't get sick anymore, you know that."

And that's when Dugan decides to play with fire.

"You can't scar anymore either but you figured that one out."

7 heads turn towards Dugan in surprise, and then two turn to glare at Steve.

Fury has a hand on his hip, "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Barnes leans into Steve's face, "what is Dum-Dum talking about, Steve?"

Rogers turns to glare at Dugan who does not shrink in the face of his Captain's annoyance. But Rogers turns back to Barnes and looks at him, changing the subject, "how is this possible? How are you here? I—"

"How about we get inside where it's warm and then I give you the whole story, huh?"

Peggy follows as the group walks back towards the camp.

—-

After everyone has changed into dry clothes, they meet up again at the command tent and she sits perched on a desk, holding a hot cup of tea in her hands. She studies Barnes' face and his eyes flick to hers a few times with a question in it.

When everyone is settled, Barnes leans back and looks at Rogers with a sympathetic look, "I fell off that train and—" he looks down at his hands and takes off one of his gloves. A metal hand reflects the dim light and Peggy's mouth parts in surprise. Rogers is leaning forward, holding the hand and staring at it. THen she watches as his hand feels up Barnes' forearm and to his elbow. "Higher." Barnes says with a sigh. Rogers' hand touches his friend's bicep and up to his shoulder. "There."

Rogers sags and puts his head in his hands.

"Hey, Steve. It's better than dead, okay? Anyways, I lost my arm in the fall and I think I broke my back and a bunch of other stuff. It felt like death, but soon I'm being dragged and I think that's it, that's the end, but then I'm being cut open and injected with stuff and soon I'm—" He takes off his other glove and reaches out with his flesh hand, grabbing one of Rogers' hands away from his face. She can see him squeeze it tightly and Rogers looks at it in shock.

"Ow." Rogers breathes out, "ow." His eyes go wide, "the vial that Hydra took—"

Barnes nods, "I think so. Zola, you caught him right?" Rogers nods, "yeah he was a smart guy, evil, vile, and sadistic, but smart. And next thing I know I'm back to fighting shape. Except I'm under their control."

The team is dead silent as Barnes describes a bit of what he went through under Hydra. Then he looks up and smiles, "but Steve, Fury told me you helped take them down, you took down Schmidt and Zola and once those pieces began to crumble, I was able to get free and contact help." He looks at Fury, "it took awhile. To reach the chain of command I wanted, I was still pretty screwed in the head, but eventually I got to Fury, and he wanted to bring me home right away, but I wanted to get right first—"

"How long—" Steve says sharply, standing up, "how long have you been—"

"Maybe 6 months?" Barnes says, "not very long. I needed a lot of sleep, a lot of food, and some good brain fixing, but I hurried as fast as I could. And Fury told me you were still taking down Hydra anyways, so—"

Rogers glares at Fury, "you knew he was alive for 6 months and you didn't—"

"Steve." Barnes says sharply, "I made him promise not to say anything. I wanted to be safe to be around when I came back. And now I am. And I'm—" His voice breaks off and he stares at the team, he gets a bit red eyed but he smiles, "I'm just so happy to be back. To see you guys again. I've missed all of you." Then he looks at Rogers and shoves his shoulder, "'specially you, blockhead."

And in a move that makes Peggy gasp softly, Rogers reaches out and snags his friend's shirt, hauling him into a hug. Barnes hugs him back just as fiercely and soon the rest of the team is joining. Dugan makes a horrifying noise and the rest of the team laughs. Peggy looks to Steve, and he's not laughing or smiling, but he does look younger than she's ever seen him look.

—-

Fury leaves not long after and she stands to leave as well, to give them their space. She is about to say her goodbyes when Dugan looks at her, "where you going?"

She nods and gestures to the team, "I'll leave you all be, to catch up."

Rogers and Barnes look up from where they were still talking and Barnes tilts his head, "you on the team?"

She notices a slight wince from Rogers but she doesn't get a chance to speak. "There ain't a team, Sarge." Morita says a bit crisply.

"What do you mean?" Barnes asks, "you're all here, you're the team."

"Nope." Jones says. "We no longer function as a team."

Oh she knows where this is going. Same song, second verse. She looks at Rogers who is glaring at the floor, and she does feel a tiny bit of sympathy for the man, but he truly did make this bed. And therefore…

"You lost me." Barnes states, he looks at Rogers, "what are they talking about?"

But Dugan answers for him, "Fury ever tell you what Cap was doing? How he was taking down Hydra?"

"Dugan—" Rogers starts, but Dugan waves his hand,

"You think he won't find out? You think we won't tell him the second you're not around?"

And she hears a very icily angry voice say, "tell me what?" She looks over to Barnes who has a terrifying look on his face as he stares at Rogers.

"At least let me?" Rogers says flatly, "so you don't all go making it more dramatic than it was?" He doesn't wait for them to answer. "I was undercover—" Barnes' head snaps to him and looks shocked, "I decided the best way to take down Hydra was to use their own plan against them. From the inside. So I went undercover after I thought you died and that's how we brought them down. With a lot of help from Carter, who was also undercover." Rogers gestures to her and she meets Barnes' curious look. "Now, Hydra is all but gone, so mission accomplished."

Dugan scoffs but Barnes turns to her, "So, you're Carter, huh?"

"You know of me?" She asks.

"Erskine taught us codes to use that he learned from you. You saved my ass probably a few times and you didn't even know it."

She smiles, "happy to help."

"So you two were undercover together?"

She's not sure how exactly to answer that but Rogers answers for her, "no, we met once undercover, but we didn't work together."

The teams' heads swivel slowly to her in surprise and she looks innocently away.

"You met?" Dugan asks.

She nods.

He furrows his brow, "but when we talked you—"

"We met undercover Dugan, I didn't know it was him until—" she cuts herself off, snapping her mouth shut.

Rogers has gone still and the team is looking back and forth between them.

Monty asks the question, "until what, Carter?"

"I'm feeling a little left out." Barnes says through gritted teeth, "what the hell are we talking about?"

Dugan strides forward and stands behind Rogers, "this idiot—" he says not unkindly, "you remember his… penchant for taking everything that happened on a mission and making it his fault?"

Barnes nods, "yeah, he's been doing that forever."

Dugan nods, "right, and so when we all thought you died, who do you think he blamed?"

Barnes' eyes go wide and then he's standing up and he's stabbing a finger at Steve, "what did you do!"

Rogers leans back, holding up his hands in surrender, "nothin'! I didn't do nothin'!" And she almost laughs at the wide-eyed slightly panicked look that matches the city accent creeping in.

"Dugan?"

"He quit the team."

"WHAT!"

"He said he was too much bad luck. So he forced Fury to make him go undercover alone."

Barnes is pinching the bridge of his nose and Rogers is looking a bit helpless.

"Steve."

"You were dead, Buck." He seems to regain some semblance of himself as he speaks, "you were dead and it was my fault and I knew I couldn't put the rest of the guys at risk. So I did what I had to do. And we took down Schmidt and Zola!"

Denier mutters something in French that makes Jones' eyes go wide and Barnes looks at them, "what was that?"

"Et il n'a fallu qu'un avion plongé dans l'Arctique pour le faire." Denier says louder.

Her mind reels at the words and Barnes waves his hands, "um, excuse me?"

Rogers stands, "listen, that's not—"

But Barnes' neck is bulging veins, "you crashed a plane-"

"I did what I had to do to prove Schmidt was the leader!"

Barnes slaps Rogers on the backside of his head and starts shouting, "what the hell!"

They're arguing and the men seem equally ready to strangle each other out of protectiveness before Monty is clearing his throat and getting everyone's attention, "excuse me, I think we've lost the point of all this." They wait for him to explain and he points to Peggy, "how she knew Cap."

Peggy rolls her eyes as their eyes land on her. Rogers sighs and sinks back to his seat.

Barnes turns to her, and she sighs, "we met to exchange information. And that's all."

"Then why didn't you recognize him at first?" Dugan asks.

"It took me a bit to place why his face was familiar." She says a bit warily.

"Cap, you recognized her right away?"

"No, I was in disguise." Peggy corrects, "he wouldn't have recognized me."

Dugan's eyes are on her, but he speaks to Rogers. "And you were in disguise?"

"I mean… my hair was brown and so were my eyes." Dugan's eyes narrow and a mischievous smile starts to spread across his face. "Carter, when did you recognize Cap?"

Oh shit. "Some bit ago." She says lightly.

"Oh yeah? Like when?"

"Dugan—"

He laughs, guffaws loudly and points at her, he laughs again, "wow, didn't see that one coming." He turns to Barnes, "guess how they know each other."

"You just said, they met undercover."

Dugan nods, "yes, but they didn't know it was each other. Not until Carter saw the scars. Which means—"

"Carter has seen the scars before—" Morita breathes out, his face turning to a grin.

Rogers head is back in his hands and she does everything to keep her cheeks from heating.

"Scars?" Barnes asks.

Rogers doesn't speak or move. But Dugan reaches down and grabs Rogers' shirt collar. She watches as Rogers swats his hand away but all that does is make Dugan grab the shirt tighter and she feels it's a full circle moment as she hears the ripping of fabric and suddenly Rogers' shirt is missing the front half, the wad of fabric in Dugan's fist.

And his scars on full display.

Rogers goes to cross his arms over his chest but Barnes is fast, so fast it makes Peggy blink in shock. He's there in front of Rogers, stabbing his finger at the man's skin, "what the hell are these!"

"They're nothin'."

"The hell they aren't, Steve! How did you even manage this!" Barnes glares at him. "What the hell did you have to do to get them to stay!"

Rogers is silent.

"Steve, so help me I will pester you until we're both one foot in the grave—"

"Cut, burn, ice, cut, insert metal wire, keep skin separated until it's healed on both sides. Wash, rinse, repeat." Rogers glares at him as he speaks, "you wanna tutorial?"

She feels sick knowing he did that to himself. Over and over.

And apparently Barnes does too because he hauls the man up by his half ripped shirt and is shouting in his face and so red Peggy's worried his head might explode, but Rogers listens in silence, letting the man shout. "What the hell is this supposed to accomplish!" Barnes bellows, "to show people what an idiot you are! Why, Steve, WHY!" He's still shouting and Peggy can see the team is enjoying the show immensely. Barnes saying the things they've either tried to say or never had the chance. "This ends now." Barnes says sharply. "If you take the metal wires out it should heal them up—"

"Bucky—"

"No, don't Bucky me—"

"James—"

"Shut the hell up, Steve, you're a menace to yourself."

Rogers stops talking and stands there, his shirt still in Barnes' metal fist. His face unapologetic.

"This ends now."

Rogers stays silent. Not agreeing or disagreeing.

Barnes' head swivels to her, and his face gets conflicted, "you've seen these before?"

She sighs, "yes, two years ago, In Greece. There were a lot fewer then."

He looks to Rogers and back to her, "how?"

With an eye roll she tells them, "I only saw them because we had to exchange information in the ocean to keep from listening ears."

"A midnight swim, huh?" Denier asks in accented English, trying to ease the tension, "under the moonlight?"

"And nothing else happened?" Monty asks, eyeing her like a hawk.

She hesitates for a millisecond too long and she notices the tips of Rogers ears turn pink and the team explodes into disbelieving laughter and jests that make her want to punch each one of them.

Peggy's never been one to back down. So she leans into it instead, "yes, we kissed in that ocean. It was quite lovely." She raises a salacious eyebrow towards them, "why did your Captain never show you that particular set of his skills?" It's pin drop silent and she relishes in the shock on their faces. Rogers looks mortified and she tilts her head, "what, are you embarrassed to have kissed me?"

Their eyes slide to him and his head drops a bit, "No, no way, I'm just—" he winces, "It's just being that forward is not like me and I knew they'd act like this if they knew—" he waves at them. "So I'm just awkward about it."

The admittance does not make her heart melt.

It does not.

But she feels the shift in the room and Barnes looks at her. "He kissed you? Or you kissed him?"

"I initiated," she admits easily, "but he was a willing partner." And then something clicks in her mind. Her mouth opens in a disbelieving but happy grin, "and I've just realized a commonality between our two experiences."

"Two?" Barnes asks.

"Yes, a few weeks ago I had my thighs wrapped around his face, isn't that how you put it Rogers?"

The man in question groans and the choked sounds of surprise from the rest of the team makes it worth it.

"Can we not be talking about this when I've just found out Bucky is still alive?" He practically whines, "can't we talk about that."

"We already did." Barnes says , lightening up, a smirk on his face, "now I wanna know how you turned into a womanizer in my absence," then he looks at Peggy, "no offense?"

She laughs, "you've got the wrong picture, but no offense taken."

"We were sparring!" Rogers says in exasperation, "she climbed up my back and was on my shoulders—" The men laugh and Rogers frown grows, "I was trying to unseat her when…" he trails off and she laughs, realizing how it will sound.

"When…?" Jones asked.

"He grabbed my belt loop and ripped my jeans open." She says cheekily. "Then he lifted me off his shoulders and bought me a new pair, very gentlemanly."

"Which you didn't accept." He says in annoyance.

"Actually I do have them after you stormed off from the table after lying about who you were—" she says with humorous haughtiness.

He leans forward, accusing and amused eyes glaring at her, "you mean when you and Hill insulted me about being a jealous little shit about myself?"

She scoffs, leaning closer, "how were we supposed to know!"

He shakes his head, "then your stunt with the bikes! Sliding next to our bike, that was dangerous!"

She laughs and glares at him, "you blasted through the gravel. Like that couldn't have killed you!"

"I knew what I was doing!"

"Yes, but you didn't know about the water—"

"Neither did you!"

"You saved us and then stormed off like a drama queen."

"It was irresponsible to not inform us of the feature—"

"She didn't know we knew!"

"This is why I can't work with other people." He says, intensity in his eyes, "human error."

She scoffs, "and what are you? An alien?"

He doesn't respond and she feels the room grow tense. She looks up to see the team staring at them in surprise. She looks to Rogers and sees how close they've gotten during their verbal exchange. Their faces are not even a foot from each other's. He's looking down at her and she's glaring up at him and she takes a step back.

"Wow." Barnes says, "get a room, huh?"

"Buck, shut it." Rogers growls, taking his own step back.

"Now's about the time you storm out of a situation." She accuses lightly. It's not a lie. She's noticed the pattern that he tends to leave a situation when he no longer wants to discuss it. But his eyes go around to the team and to Barnes and then they land on her.

"I—" he looks back at Barnes and sighs, sliding down into a chair, "I don't want to leave."

Something about that sentence breaks all the tension and the men on his team laugh and shove each other's shoulders and she watches as the cracks in their team begin to seal.

—

The group really settles into their own rhythm. It's hours as they catch up and swap stories. Peggy is fascinated to find out that she and Barnes may have been operating in the same circle under Hydra's wing in her first year.

"Rumlow?" Peggy gags, "that man was a swine."

"You can say that again." Barnes growls, "hated that guy."

"Yeah well Steve and Sam blasted half his face off before he went to prison so I don't think he likes you guys either." Morita laughs.

"Sam is going to be thrilled you're back." Rogers quips.

The rest of the team laugh and Peggy feels like she's missing an inside joke.

Barnes is shaking his head, "that brat."

—

She thinks she dozes off while they're still catching up.

—

She wakes with a bit of a crick in her neck and something on top of her head. She doesn't move, just yawns and opens her eyes to see Barnes staring at her with a smile on his face.

"You fell asleep." He smiles wider, "and he didn't want to disturb you, but then he fell asleep." Barnes' head nods up, gesturing to her left. She suddenly realizes that while they were talking, Rogers was on her left and she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder. And now his head was resting against the top of hers.

"Never seen him comfortable like this with a girl before." The man says softly, "how'd you rank?"

"I don't know." She answers softly back, ignoring the way her heart aches a bit at the knowledge. "All we've done since we've met is argue."

He laughs quietly, "then you'll fit right in."

"In with?"

"The team, the commandos."

"The who now?"

"That's what our team is called, The Howling Commandos."

"That's a terrible name."

"Dugan picked it."

"What should I do?" She asks, "let him sleep?"

"It's up to you, but…" the man scoots closer, "tell me this, do you care about him?"

"I barely know him."

"That's not an answer."

She thinks about him in the moonlight in the ocean. How him as a stranger then had felt more like a friend than most of her friends. How since getting to know him more each day, she's been continually exasperated and drawn to his presence. How his sweet gestures are hidden behind gruff frowns. She can still hear him humming in the shower. She can hear his soft laugh in the ocean.

Barnes waits for her, but her non-response has him smiling. "You do, don't you?"

She sighs, "somehow, yes."

"He's a mess right now." She wonders at his quick assessment of Steve. But Dugan said they have been friends since childhood.

"You're one to talk." She jests back.

"True, but I admit that I've been a mess. Steve barely admits to anything, let alone needing help."

Her voice gets very low, "do you know about the bet?"

His eyebrows furrow, "what bet?"

She'd wondered if they'd told him after she fell asleep. She glances around the room to see the commandos asleep in ridiculous ways. On the ground, on top of desks or against chairs. Apparently not.

"Nothing." She says softly, "I'm sure they'll fill you in later."

He's about to press the subject when Peggy feels Steve shift and wake up. She blinks at Barnes.

"Hey Steve, morning."

"You're really here." The man says, his voice husky with sleep, his head still on hers, "that wasn't a dream."

"Really here." Barnes gestures to Peggy, "and you're going to need fill me in on this."

"There's nothing to fill you in on." He says quickly, and lifts his head off of hers gently. "You heard everything last night."

She's not sure if Steve can see she's awake. Barnes' head shake is almost imperceptible. "You're a deep deep well, Steve. You said the surface level stuff."

"Buck, I just got you back, can you not already be on my tail about girls?"

She wonders at the backstory of that.

Barnes looks at her and he smiles, "that's no girl, Steve, that's a woman, right Carter?"

She feels Steve stiffen under her and she picks her head off of his shoulder and looks at him, smoothing back her hair. "I do prefer that age appropriate term, yes."

"Come on," Barnes says quickly, standing, "I'm starving."

—

They wake the commandos and start the walk to the mess tent. All of them look a rumpled mess but they are a much more lighthearted group this morning than they were last night.

They walk into the tent and get their trays piled high. There's very little talking as they shovel their mouths full of food. Fury stops by, says hello, and is gone without eating. Peggy watches them interact. But she catches all the commandos looking at Barnes and smiling, like they got a brother back. Which, it seems like they did.

She especially watches Steve, whose eyes never stay off of Barnes for more than a few minutes. But he's more relaxed than she's ever seen him, and he may not laugh or smile, but he does nod along to a few of the funny stories or jokes told.

She watches as Barton enters the tent, followed by Natasha. She smiles and waves at the woman who smiles back only to stop dead in her tracks. Her mouth parts in shock and she gasps.

Peggy stands, "Natasha?"

The commandos look up and she hears a voice say, "Natalia?"

Suddenly red-hair is flying past her and she hears a shout of disbelieved laughter rings through the tent. Peggy watches as Natasha tackles Barnes, they topple to the floor and he's hugging her tightly and she's hugging him back.

She looks up at Rogers who is half standing, looking stunned. He meets her gaze, a question in his eyes and she shrugs.

They get off the floor and Peggy is even mores surprised when he spins her around and then kisses her fiercely.

"What the hell is happening?" Barton asks, a tray of food in his hands, "and who the hell is that guy?"

The commandos break into a fit of laughter.

—

While Barnes was under the control of Hydra, he'd worked closely with the Red Room Agents. Natasha (or Natalia as he had known her) had only just started real missions, only 19 and fighting to survive the harsh conditions she was expected to work through. Barnes and she had met and instantly felt a connection. They'd kept it a secret the whole time, and had been lucky to spend over 2 years in and around each other. But Natasha had been sent away to a mission for over 6 months and when she'd returned, Barnes was gone and they'd never known how to contact each other again, or had the ability.

They sit side by side and are inseparable for the rest of the meal. Peggy watches curiously as their bond is so strongly apparent.

"She helped me break through some of the conditioning." Barnes says with a smile, looking at her like she was glowing, "she was trying to break free from the Red Room and we worked together to regain some autonomy. Without her I might still be stuck there."

A hand appears on Natasha's shoulder and the girl looks up to see Rogers looking at her seriously, "I cannot thank you enough for helping him. Whatever you need, whenever. I'll do whatever I can."

The red-head looks stunned but then smiles, "thanks. I'm glad he found his way home to both of us."

And that sentence solidifies something about her to Rogers. She watches as he nods and leans back.

The tent flap opens again and the wind makes everyone look up. A sleepy Sitwell enters, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses.

"Sitwell." The same voice that said Natalia speaks, except this time instead of surprise or happiness, the tone is a fierce hatred. "Jasper Sitwell."

The man turns to his name and his eyes find the speaker. He pales instantly, "wha—" he scrambles back, tripping over a chair and hitting the ground with a thud.

"You little rat!" Barnes shouts, standing and striding over to the man who is trying to slither away with his limbs floundering on the ground. "I thought you were dead!" Barnes snaps, "Now you're going to wish you were—"

"Bucky?"

Barnes turns back and his face is a terrifying sight, pure anger and ferocity. He pauses, takes one deep breath and stands straight before relaxing.

Sitwell is up and starting to back out of the tent. A tray smacks him in the gut so hard his breath leaves in a "hhmphf" and he sits down on the ground hard. She looks up to see Rogers' tray is missing and she wants to laugh about his choice of weapon.

"What about Sitwell?"

"He's Hydra."

Shouts and echoes fill the tent and the team quickly ensure he's tied up and secure before hearing anything else.

"Let me go!" Sitwell snaps, "you can't trust that psycho! He's a murdering robot!"

Rogers barely moves, but Sitwell's suddenly gasping for air and doubling over.

Fury is called and Barnes explains that while he was under Hydra's control, Sitwell was a young Agent training under Rumlow and other higher ups. Peggy recognizes a few names of senators of government aides that have already been arrested.

Sitwell's spitting mad but he fumes mostly silently and stays quiet.

Eventually he's hauled off to the same detention center Lorraine's being held and they reconvene in the command tent.

"See people," Fury says with a smile, "this is why we have to go through the training and new protocols. So we keep them from ever infiltrating again."

Rogers rolls his eyes and Peggy feels similarly.

—

The Commandos are to finish out their assignment. So Steve and Barnes say their goodbyes and their promises to see each other soon. They board the jet and touch down back in DC. Barnes steps off the plane, looking around. "How's my ma?" He asks, "how's Becca, and Brooklyn?"

"I was undercover for 5 years, Buck. I haven't seen them almost as long as you."

"They're going to be pissed at you."

Steve sighs, "I know. But I figured they wouldn't want to see me."

Barnes sighs, "you're an idiot."

Steve doesn't argue.

She waves goodbye and she wonders when she'll have a chance to see them again.

—

She walks to her small office and sits heavily in her chair. She spins a few times and then gets to work. She types up reports and finishes her evaluation of the protocols training.

She's just closing her laptop when Fury walks in.

"So," he says with a smile, "How was it like, working with your hero?"

"You know, he's kind of a mystery."

Fury laughs, "well how would you like the chance to figure him out?"

"Excuse me?"

He leans in, his face half serious and half amused, "that mission he was supposed to go undercover for?" He smiles, "now we need a couple. What do you say?"

She blinks, her brain frying at the suggestion, "um, excuse me?"

"I need you and Rogers as an undercover team. Sitwell's starting to sing and I'm getting the impression that we're missing another big bad. There is someone in Shield's ranks that shouldn't be. I want him or her nailed to the floor. But I can't do that from here. I need inside sources. I'm hearing from sources that you and Rogers have history and chemistry. That's the beginning of a beautiful class schedule. You in?"

Her fingers tap lightly on her desk, "for how long? I just got home."

"However long it takes. The sooner you shine a light into the dark corners and get the rats, the sooner you come home."

"What does Rogers have to say about this?"

"He knows he leaves for a mission in 8 days. He has no idea that you're needed too."

"Shouldn't you give him the choice?"

"Choice of what?"

"What girl he'd like to take?"

"Screw what he wants, this is about who does the best work, and that's you two."

"I'll do it on the condition that he's agreeable to it."

Fury smirks, "done."

—

*A/N* - So….

You're wondering why it ended and the Steggy is not yet fulfilled.

I didn't plan it this way. but we're too far from them being ?in love ? and at 15k this chapter was hella long. So.

A 'sequel' is coming.

A beautiful, forced proximity, undercover identity, fake relationship sequel. We love tropes, am I right?! ?ￂﾠ

A continuation of this AU with our Grumpy Steve and our Delightful Peggy. (And co.!)

Hope that's okay!