"Hello girls," Peggy greeted them the next morning. "Follow me."
Majorie stifled a yawn beside Queenie as they followed Peggy through a maze of corridors in the underground headquarters of the SSR. They entered a large room that seemed to be the main hub of operations, as people strode to and fro, intent on their business, and others collaborated on different tasks about the room. Colonel Phillips and Steve Rogers were bent over a huge map spread over a table, talking heatedly about something. Peggy cleared her throat as she walked up, and the men turned around to face them.
"Ah, girls." Colonel Phillips waved off their salute. "No need for that. I'll get right to it. You two are the best nurses we've got, and we need you. We've just created the Howling Commandos, an elite squad led by Captain Rogers here, to locate and eradicate HYDRA bases and operations. I want one of you to join the team as well. We need to keep them in perfect condition, and I won't have just anyone looking after them. Be warned, though, you will be very close to the front lines and likely near the most dangerous places. You'll not go into combat, you'll hang back, but you'll be on site standing by. If you both volunteer, then Captain Rogers may pick, but I want to give you the choice first. I know I'm asking a lot."
Majorie and Queenie exchanged looks. Queenie's mind reeled as she absorbed the information. A task force to wipe out HYDRA bases would be a dangerous group to join, but… Queenie glanced at her best friend, who looked a little green. Majorie began speaking before Queenie could register what Majorie would say.
"To tell you the truth, sir, I'd be no good to the team. I'm not a leader like Queenie here. No, it's true," Majorie said to Queenie's objecting face. "We make such a good team, her and I, because I can read her and know what she needs. I'm her support. But the way she can make decisions under heavy pressure, give orders, take them, and delegate… I can't do that. I can patch up soldiers, sir, but Queenie's your gal, and we all know it. Just being honest, sir," Majorie answered, straightening and not looking at Queenie. Queenie swallowed, knowing what her answer would be.
Colonel Phillips nodded as though he'd expected as much. He turned to Queenie. "Well, LT?"
"Sir, I would like to volunteer, if Captain Rogers will have me," Queenie replied quietly, reaching over and squeezing Majorie's hand.
"That I would," Steve answered readily. Colonel Phillips nodded and motioned to Peggy, who stepped toward the girls.
"Come on, then, I'll get you sorted. And Majorie, we do have something for you regardless. The colonel needs you to…" The three began walking away, following Peggy as the agent launched into a briefing. Queenie tuned out Peggy's instructions to Majorie about some sort of nurse/secretarial position and thought back to what Majorie had said about her. Am I a leader? I'd never thought about it like that. I just get done what needs to be done. Queenie jerked back to the present as Majorie hugged her.
"Bye, Queenie, I'll see you at the apartment," Majorie was saying, then she was turning toward a secretary, but Peggy was walking on and Queenie dashed to catch up. They walked to a partially closed door, where Queenie could hear the Commandos laughing and talking inside. But Peggy stopped a bit away, and turned to Queenie, looking her straight in the eyes. To Queenie's amazement, something raw shone in Peggy's eyes, something wild and fierce and pleading. All at once, something in Queenie's mind clicked. The light in her eyes, but only when Captain Rogers was around…
"You take care of him. Please. I-"
"Peggy." Queenie stopped the Brit with a hand on her arm. "Of course I'll take care of Steve for you. But take care of yourself. You know he's too good to look at any other girl. But you'll worry yourself sick and if he sees you in less than prime health, my head will roll."
"I know. But he also knows to respect my decisions," Peggy declared, setting her jaw.
"Of course, General Carter. Everyone does," Queenie teased gently and the two women shared a laugh as they turned to the room. The chatter stopped as the men took in the two. The room held four tables, one with weapons strewn across it and two where the men had gathered, equipment and clothing in various stages of being packed. The last table was set a little ways apart from the others, and held similar gear but also included a medical kit. My kit.
"Gentlemen, you have one more addition to your team," Peggy announced. "Lieutenant Smith is to be the Howling Commandos' personal nurse, which is nothing shy of actual doctor to you lot. Captain Rogers will be along shortly to brief you on your first mission. Queenie, you'll need to get suited up. Things may be a little big for now, but we'll get your measurements and we'll have a proper uniform waiting when you get back. I'll leave you to it, then." Peggy nodded to Queenie encouragingly before leaving. Queenie remained frozen in the doorway, nerves growing. These men clearly already had a brotherhood; what need did they have for her?
"So, Queens," Dugan called. "You gonna stand there gawking, or are you gonna gear up?"
At his cheerful words, activity resumed once more as the men continued to suit up. Queenie walked into the room, exhaling and pushing away the fear.
"Only if I get the Thompson," Queenie returned, gesturing to the largest gun on the weapons table with a grin.
"Not on your life," Bucky declared, snatching the gun to himself. "This bad boy's mine." He stroked the barrel of the gun lovingly and protectively.
Queenie laughed, and went over to the separate table where her gear was laid out. She fingered one of the pieces - it was labeled "zip line gun." Queenie inspected the rest of it, which included a Cigarette Laser, EMP Joy Buzzer, Hand-Held Hypno Beam, Noisemaker, UHF Pin, Quarter Walkie-Talkie and Portable X-Ray Scanner. Queenie had never heard of most of the gear, let alone used it. She wondered what sort of situations required such outlandish gear of all shapes and sizes.
"We've all got the same gear, but your weapon will be different, likely," Jim told her, selecting the M3A1 submachine gun for his weapon of choice.
"She'll have her kit, too," Steve added, entering the room. The team turned to face him, and Steve nodded to each of them. "We're gonna give you a Colt, at least, Queens. We're not taking you to the front without a weapon or two. But I'm not going to weigh you down. I know, you'll carry your weight, but don't worry if you have to say you can't take it all. We'll help. We're a team, and we're gonna do this together. Understood?"
"Understood," they chorused.
"Great. Now our first mission. When I pulled you guys from that facility, I saw a map that had HYDRA bases listed, and our job first and foremost will be to take them down, one by one. We're starting with here…"
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'
"Alright. Any more questions? No? Then, Queenie, want to say anything?" Steve concluded his briefing by turning to her.
"Yes, actually, if you don't mind," Queenie said, and Steve gestured for her to move forward, so she did. "Boys, I have spent over a year in the European theater. I may not have been in this war as long as you, but I am not a child, nor do I need to be coddled. I've been pretty damn close to front lines before. But my primary concern, in fact my job on this team, is your health. I expect to be extraneous, that you all will take such good care and be so good that you won't need me. But heaven save you if you try to hide a wound from me. I expect to be obeyed when it comes to my patching you up." She made eye contact with each man, not moving on until they'd given her a nod of acquiescence. "I will not actively put myself in harm's way, but I'm also not opposed to serving other functions on missions, up to the discretion of Captain Rogers." She knew that in such a small team, everyone would have to perform other activities beyond their assigned purpose, and Queenie wouldn't shrink from that. "That's all," she concluded easily.
Queenie stepped back, as each man nodded to her. With that, the team meeting adjourned and the men went back to chatting. Jim and James spoke to Steve, but Bucky came over to her.
"How come you're on this team? Don't get me wrong, doll. You're handy in a pinch, but I heard you readily volunteered. Why? Don't you have people to think about if you die?"
"Actually, I don't. It was just me and my Ma. Once we went to war, we both wanted to be nurses but Ma's heart wouldn't let her. So she let me do whatever I desired, and supported me in everything. But her heart - well, I found out about it when Steve's USO show came to Italy." Queenie's eyes began to mist over, and she cleared her throat before hurrying on. "Manhattan, I mean Agnes, had letters and news for me and Majorie from home, and she gave me the news, poor dear. So, long story short, and much more information than you asked for, I've got nothing waiting for me in the States. 'Cept maybe Agnes and Majorie's family."
"I'm sorry to hear about your Ma," Bucky said quietly, concern in his eyes. Queenie shrugged one shoulder, packing up the gear. She figured she'd have the most use for the walkie talkie, so she saved it for last to pack at the top.
"Ma and I knew this would happen sooner or later. It's a problem I'll deal with after the war. Oh, I've forgotten to mention something. Hey, fellas!" Queenie turned to the team and all eyes turned to her. "Lord only knows what kinds of situations we'll find ourselves in. So, in the event that I have to change clothes, I'm gonna ask that you refrain from a peep show. At least give me some semblance of privacy." The guys had an awkward look on their faces, half of them trying to be respectful and not have a weird face but failing, and the other half looking uncomfortable. Queenie continued, nonplussed. "When I'm finished, I'll say 'clear,' so you know I'm done. But I assume we all know what the male and female bodies look like." Their discomfort was palpable, so Queenie added with a grin, "No need to make a big deal of common information. Just don't go around blathering about my tattoo."
"Tattoo?" chorused Dugan, Jim, and Gabe, with no little excitement, and shock registered on the others' faces.
"Nah, I don't have a tattoo," laughed Queenie, as their faces continued displaying wide ranges of emotion from disappointment to relief. "Just clearing the air. Speaking of this topic, though, I've got to get into this gear now, so we may as well practice this. Fellas?"
The men dutifully busied themselves with their own gear, everyone turning their backs on each other as they stripped off the dress uniforms and slipped into the combat gear. Queenie changed efficiently, used to having many nights of no notice to dress and get to work. Once finished, she gave the 'clear' signal and folded her uniform neatly. She next attacked her hair, quickly snatching pins from her Victory roll and shoving them in her mouth for lack of a better holding place. She shook out her hair, gathering it at the lower middle part of her head, as she turned around to grab a wide barrette from the table. She was wrapping it around her hair, when she glanced up and saw the men's faces.
"What?" she said around the mouthful of pins, snapping the barrette in place.
"Girls don't exactly do their hair in front of us," Gabe smirked. At the risk of spewing pins, Queenie scoffed. It may be bad manners to do one's hair in public, but this was war. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.
"Well," she said, finally taking the pins from her mouth, "get used to this girl doing it. I'm not going to do anything special with it, but I will not let it get nasty. A girl's hair is her pride and joy, my Ma used to say. Now, fellas, how do I look? Nice enough to take home to meet your mothers?" She affected a few poses, making the men laugh and relieve the last dregs of tension as they continued suiting up, shoving things into pockets.