Am I late in writing a Steve x OC story? Maybe, but my Marvel fixation is back and I love Margot so much I wanted to introduce her to all of you! This is part one in a series but this book will cover everything from The Avengers to Endgame.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel.

If you enjoyed the chapter please leave a review!


Chapter One: Brave New World

The smell of freshly made coffee wafted through her nose as she entered the tiny cafe, relishing in the warmth she was provided from the blistering October air. It was only a few blocks away from her apartment building, and even better, it was close to the metro. Practical and serving good tasting food all at once.

Margot let out a sigh of annoyance as she double-checked her watch. Her early bird tendencies were finally paying off, considering Fury had called her up and demanded her come in on her week off.

She was supposed to go to DC and check in on Sharon.

She was supposed to be surrounded by living monuments of history and brushing up on her reading for her midterms for her Masters.

Instead, she'd been called in because Fury claimed she had valuable knowledge on their newest asset. Not that he'd tell her what it was.

The man was the most paranoid person Margot had ever met and considering she was a public defender for a few years, that was saying a lot.

The teenage barista nodded at her as she picked up her paper cup, sighing in contentment as the peppermint-chocolate goodness slid down her throat.

It was one of the few joys she had left in her life, and as her Aunt always said, "It's the little things that matter."

Her heart whined as she realized it'd probably be another six months before she was able to see her Aunt again and her lips dipped into a frown. Her phone rang and when she saw who it was, she picked it up with a smile.

"Hey Shar," Margot spoke through gritted teeth.

Her old roommate hissed at the tone, "What's Fury done this time?"

Margot continued her walk toward the metro station, black heeled boots clicking against the pavement, "You're not gonna like it."

"I don't know, I tend to be a little bit more open-minded when it comes to his decisions." Sharon chuckled and Margot shook her head.

"That's because you don't have him breathing down your neck the whole time."

"Hey, you made the decision to give out your last name."

Margot bit the inside of her cheek, smiling at her words, "A decision I regret every day," She paused, "I won't be able to get out there this week."

Sharon went silent for a moment and the knot in her stomach tightened. Margot pressed her lips together and waited for her friend to respond.

"That's what Fury did huh?"

Margot sighed, "Said something about a new asset but he won't tell me a damn thing or why I'm even needed in the first place. Just that it requires my skillset."

Sharon chuckled mirthlessly, "Yep, that sounds like Fury."

Margot paused, phone quivering in her hand and grip tightening on her coffee, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, you and I both know the demands of this job." Sharon comforted her, but Margot could hear the disappointment in her voice, silently smacking herself for not standing up to Fury about it in the first place. "We knew what we were signing up for."

"I'll be on the first flight out for Thanksgiving, I promise."

The two women exchanged goodbyes and Margot stepped into the crowded subway, trying not to let her thoughts stray too far so she didn't miss her stop.

She could feel the middle-aged man behind her breathing down her neck, trying not to fidget too much. Her hand rested on the back pocket of her work bag, where her mace and pocket firearm were always kept due to her Aunt instilling that habit in her early on.

She'd rarely had to use it, but on the off chance she did, it was better to be prepared than taken aback.

The muffled voice of the subway announced her stop and she quickly rescued herself by hiding amongst the crowds of people. She was always good at hiding. Blending in where no one would see her.

The walk to Erskine Industries was a long one, but Margot would rather brave the cement sidewalks and streets instead of the horrible New York Traffic.

God, she hated the city. Foghorns and heavy traffic made it impossible to fall asleep and traveling anywhere was near impossible.

If she'd had any choice in her appointment she'd be with Sharon in DC. But Fury had demanded she stay here, almost blackmailed her into it.

Finishing off her coffee, she tossed it in the bin just outside the entrance.

"ID please," The female bodyguard asked. Margot flashed the card bearing her full name and picture from when she was first recruited, her roots now grown out to the point where the once blonde locks were highlights rather than her actual hair color.

Sharon had always been complimentary of the look, claiming that many of the women were sporting hairstyles like hers intentionally, calling it an ombre.

Margot called it too lazy to make an appointment with her hairdresser.

Maybe when she finally graduated from her Masters program she'd go back to the blonde. She was stopped once again by the full-body sensors, the agents searching her bag as she stepped through the detector, her scan coming out clean.

"There you are," A familiar voice caught her attention as she began to walk toward the wing where her office resided. Maria Hill was one of the best agents SHIELD had ever produced, which made her perfect as Fury's right-hand woman. "Fury wants to see you in his office now."

"Can I just set my stuff down first?" Margot pleaded, her feet aching from the walk over, "I have this huge case I'm working on and-"

"Now, Thompson." Maria's stern tone matched her expression and Margot sighed, following the dark-haired woman through an unfamiliar part of the building. Agents dressed in black tactical suits passed by them. Maria stopped at the beginning of a staircase, pulling a file folder from her hand. "Your new assignment. Read it quickly and remember it. Fury wants to go over the finer details with you."

Margot creased her brows as she took the manila folder from the woman, "What happened to the Stark case?"

Maria shrugged, "Romanoff submitted the final paperwork last night. Another success, thanks to you."

"Yeah that's one name for it," She mumbled as she scanned through the papers and photographs, trying to figure out what exactly Fury wanted her to do. When she finally reached the last page, anger burst in her chest, re-reading the words over and over again until she started seeing red.

This wasn't happening.

He wasn't serious.

This was a joke. He promised her.

Margot burst through the door, file in hand and her temper flaring. "Are you kidding me?" She nearly yelled, slamming the door behind her. "You're putting me on babysitting duty?"

Nick sighed, carelessly tossing what he was looking over aside before leaning back in his chair, hands crossed over his lap. "Agent Thompson, you are being put in charge of persuading Captain Rogers to our cause."

"He's an icicle!" She exclaimed, slamming the folder down on his desk, "I have living, breathing clients who need my help. The hammer in New Mexico for example. The Banner case. I don't have time-"

"Yes, you do." Nick Fury cut her off, standing up at her indignance. Margot clenched her jaw and rolled her hands into fists. "I've assigned Coulson and Danvers the New Mexico case, and Everett Ross demanded the Banner case be handled through one of his own firms. You now have a cleared schedule."

"You're taking me off those cases because you pulled a mythical man out of the ice? A man that my great-aunt supposedly knew seventy years ago?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her great-aunt was dead, she had been since Margot had been brought into this world. Her whole life she'd only known Grandpa Jack until he'd been taken from her too. Now it was just her, her mom, and whatever family decided to visit nowadays.

There was nothing Margot could contribute. She didn't know a damn thing about Captain America.

Fury stared her down and Margot swore she could feel his eyepatch boring into her. "I have other reasons, you know I have."

Margot scoffed. Of course. It always came back to that. "This wasn't about my skillset at all. This is so you can play your little charade and get away with it."

Fury let out a guilty sigh, "Agent Thirteen wasn't willing-"

"Neither am I, but that's not stopping you."

Fury moved back behind his desk, placing his hands on the glass as he met her blazing gaze, "You are his last connection to the world he knew. He needs that now."

"Why? Why now?"

Fury went silent. Margot scoffed. Typical of him. Keeping everything close to his chest, never divulging secrets to anyone. It did the agency more harm than good.

"There's no one better suited to the task than you."

Knowing she'd lost the battle, Margot grabbed the file folder and turned on her heel, hair whipping behind her as she began to make her way to the room listed in the folder.

This was ridiculous.

Steve Rogers had been a bedtime story, something to help her fall asleep, not a living breathing man she was supposed to help adjust to the real world. Not a man she was supposed to recruit to SHIELD.

She didn't even believe in the cause they were fighting for, how could she make a man out of time believe it?

Her heart pounded against her chest and her teeth ground against each other as she snuck into the changing room adjacent to the main studio where'd they'd set up the room.

Ginger was changing back into her tactical suit when Margot entered. Dark circles surrounded the Agent's eyes, showing a sleepless night as she stood ready to greet Captain Rogers into the 21st century.

A job that now belonged to Margot and Margot alone.

A musty skirt and button-up top slapped her in the face.

"Your turn Thompson," Ginger teased, grabbing a cup of coffee on her way out. What Margot wouldn't give for another one right about now.

Not even bothering to change her bra, knowing the trap Fury was setting, Margot buttoned up the shirt and slipped into the skirt and tights, scoffing at her appearance as she let her curls hang freely the same way Ginger's had.

The heels clicked against the floor and she stood by a monitor, watching the golden man sleep. He looked perfectly content and Margot found herself praying that he wouldn't wake up for the rest of the workday.

All she could do was wait.


Steve's eyes fluttered open, the soft sound of the radio playing in the background. He heard the crack of a bat.

A baseball game. He hadn't been to a baseball game since...

He blinked. The room around him was exactly like one he'd seen his mom in a few times before she died. The muted walls, the cheap fan, the uncomfortable hospital bed.

He forced himself to listen again.

The announcer sounded familiar, almost like one he'd heard before. But that wasn't possible. He looked down at his clothes, no longer in the Star-Spangled suit Howard had gifted him before the mission.

Before he'd-

The rush of traffic and honking horns cut his thoughts off and he finally noticed the radio. The announcer's voice was clearer, saying names Steve remembered, names he knew.

But the plays were too familiar, too new.

They'd lived in the back of his head for years. Was it years now? He didn't know where he was anymore. How much time had passed since he'd gone into the ice?

Where the hell was he?

Footsteps were heard and a light brunette woman with blonde around the edges entered the room with a soft smile on her face.

She was dressed in the typical SSR fashion. The way Peggy had been dressed. But something was off, not just her hair color.

It was the way she carried herself, the stiffness in her voice as she spoke, "Morning," She checked her watch, "Well, afternoon."

It was a lighthearted joke, something Steve had only found in one or two people during his time as Captain.

A shiver crawled down Steve's back and he met the green hues of the woman's gaze. It was soft, but there was something else behind it. Something familiar.

"Where am I?" He wasted no time asking.

The woman remained unfazed. "You're in a recovery room in New York City," she recited, the same soft smile on her face.

Something wasn't right here. The game was too familiar, his surroundings unknown.

Had HYDRA finally caught up to him too?

Steve scanned her clothes once again. The tie was wrong. Too thick, too square. As he listened to the radio once again, it finally struck him.

May 1941.

He'd been there. It was his last game before Bucky'd been shipped off. That's why it was so fresh in his mind. That's why he knew every play before the announcer commented on it.

Why were they playing a game he'd already been to?

And who were they?

"Where am I really?"

The look on the woman's face never faltered, and instead, she held her hands out in a gesture of surrender. "I understand this is overwhelming, but I need you to trust me."

"Not until you tell me where I am!" The volume of his voice shocked him, and while this woman seemed to know who he was, she didn't even flinch at the sight of how big he was. How he could take her down in a second.

"I told you, you're in a recovery room-"

"The game," Steve cut her off, not having the patience for any more tricks, "It's from May 1941, I know cause I was there." He moved in closer, green eyes refusing to leave his, "Now where the hell am I?"

The woman let out a hitched breath, "Captain Rogers-"

The door burst open and three men in black suits came storming in. "I said not yet-" The woman quickly addressed the three of them, but Steve didn't pay her any attention as he pushed them through the wall, a new hole in the side of the room confirming his thoughts.

This was all a setup.

"Captain Rogers, wait!" The woman called after him, but Steve took off running. He needed to get out of here.

He needed to get back home and tell Rebecca about Bucky. He needed to find Peggy and fulfill his promise. He had a life to get back to and he wasn't going to let HYDRA stop him. It didn't matter what they said. None of this felt like New York.

"I repeat, all agents Code Thirteen." The woman's voice rang out through the building. Steve pushed past the soldiers with laughable ease, his bare feet dragging themselves across the wet pavement beneath his feet, cars and bikes flying by in models he'd never seen before.

Where the hell was he?

He continued to run. Right now it was his only option.

If he could make it to Times Square he could find his way home. His mom had always told him that. Bucky had always told him that.

Find Times Square, everything else is easy after that.

But it wasn't. Because Times Square was a mess of flashing lights and colorful movies with words Steve didn't understand like American Eagle Outfitters and Baskin Robbins.

Colors swirled around him in bright hues Steve never had the luxury of enjoying during the harsh years of the war. He searched for anything familiar. Any landmark that might be of some use to him. But there were none.

None of the bars he recognized. The old movie theatre was gone, replaced by a shop bearing fashions Steve himself didn't understand.

The loud sirens coming from black SUVs drowned out his thoughts, and Steve was left with more questions than answers.

The woman who'd greeted him stepped out of the car closest to him, her costume tossed aside and replaced with a pair of denim pants and a grey shirt.

A black man with an eyepatch stood beside her, "At ease soldier," The man commanded.

"Where the hell am I?" He repeated again, unable to process anything else at the moment.

The woman stepped forward, a determined look on her face, much harsher than the smile she'd worn to greet him. "Safe, Captain Rogers. You're safe."