Steve's apprehension grew slightly as he parked his motorcycle in the underground garage of SHIELD's Triskelion. Mysterious meetings with strangers had not turned out well in most of the modern movies he'd watched so far. He squared his shoulders inside the leather jacket he'd requested, and used his keycard to open the elevator doors.
The elevator zoomed to the fortieth floor, and Steve found himself missing the music that used to accompany such rides. With a decidedly non-melodic beep, the doors opened to let him out and to admit three agents in professional garb. Steve felt a bit under-dressed, remembering that Hill had called this a professional meeting, but he also had no suits to wear yet, so his leather jacket, a t-shirt, jeans, and combat boots were the best he could offer. He'd been told his original iconic uniform was in a museum somewhere in D.C.
The long hallway housed many conference rooms with glass walls and tan blinds drawn to give privacy. To the left of each door there was a room number, and 4031 was just a short walk from the elevator. Steve didn't pause before opening the door.
The first thing he noticed was the brightness from the ambient light reflecting off a small, round table. At the table sat a young woman with her dark brown hair falling around her shoulders in waves. Warm brown eyes appraised him, and her un-lipsticked lips formed a smile when their eyes met. She appeared to have been doing something with her cell phone, but she had stood upon Steve's entrance.
Steve had a suspicion that he was either in the wrong room, or SHIELD was trying to find him a date, because this dame looked a lot like Peggy, and like the woman assigned to him when he'd woken up in that sham hospital last week. Anger, loss, and loneliness all took hold of his heart, even as he hid them behind his go-to soldier expression.
"Captain Rogers?" the woman asked, and Steve nodded, thanking God she had a neutral American accent.
"It's an honor to meet you Sir." She stepped around the table, and Steve noted that her dark blue jeans, purple tunic-shirt-thing, and loafers were probably as casual as his own attire.
He remembered his manners, and met her in the middle of the room, holding out his hand. She took it, still smiling, "My name is Eleanore Engman, and I'm here as a psychological analysis consultant for SHIELD."
"You're young," Steve blurted. He paused, surprised and embarrassed. Maybe she wasn't as young as she looked, around twenty-three or so, but Steve had mostly seen doctors and shrinks who were old men. Either way, it had to be insulting to just be judged on her age, and she did have an air of confidence about her. He waited apprehensively for her reaction to his slight.
Instead, she laughed once and let go of his hand. "I'll grow out of it," she said, "And anyway, so do you, for someone born in 1918."
Steve found himself almost grinning back, "I'll have to give you that one, ma'am." Not easily insulted. Good.
She crossed back behind the table, and reached under it, emerging with medium-sized gray backpack. "So, did you get any indication you were meeting with me, or was it a surprise?" she asked as she zipped her phone into one of the top pockets.
Steve wondered how to answer. The term "psychological analysis" had put him on edge, and he wanted this interview to be successful so he could start really doing his job again. In the end, though, he decided honesty was always best. "I just got a call last night to come to this room this morning. Agent Hill didn't say what it was about, ma'am."
"Kind of the same for me, but they called two days ago to talk to me about it." She moved efficiently, putting her backpack on and coming back to stand in front of him as she finished speaking. Before he could reply, she was talking again, "Want to go get a cup of coffee? Meeting in meeting rooms is so awkward, although this one served its purpose."
"Um, sure? Is Agent Hill going to meet us somewhere?" Steve had been under the impression that this meeting would be moderated by the terse, albeit familiar woman.
Miss Engman, looked up at him smiling again, and Steve found himself instinctively returning the expression, though with more reserve. "I think she's giving us time to get familiar, but I'm sure she'll be able to find us in the canteen."
"While that is true," Agent Hill said as she walked through the soundless door, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't go wandering off during the introductory stage of this meeting."
Miss Engman just grinned at Hill, and followed her to sit at the table. Steve noticed that Agent Hill and Miss Engman both seemed familiar with each other, without any of the formality between them that SHIELD agents usually had. He followed and sat across from both of them at the table, with his back to the window.
"Now, if we may begin," Agent Hill started, looking at Steve and setting a couple of files on the table, "Miss Engman was called here by SHIELD specifically to assess your readiness for field work, as well as to help you adjust to the twenty-first century. You, Captain Rogers, have the choice to see her, or someone else appointed by SHIELD, but Miss Engman came most highly recommended."
"You'll have a few days after this meeting to decide, so don't feel pressured," Miss Engman interjected.
"Yes, as she stated." Hill sounded a little annoyed. "Please understand that this is not a reflection on you or your character, Captain Rogers. It is merely a formality designed to keep you and agents working with you safe in the field."
"I'll also be catching you up on the last seventy years," Miss Engman was looking past him, out the window, but she refocused on his face as she talked. She smiled again, at the end.
"Yes, so this meeting is to give you two a chance to exchange information, and decide whether or not you want to work together." Agent Hill looked like she was finished, at least for now.
Steve felt like it was his turn to speak. He wasn't into sharing a lot of personal information, and he still didn't like the idea of anyone telling him when it was OK to go and do what he wanted. If he had to choose, though, Miss Engman seemed like the least professional and most understanding person he was likely to get. Every time she'd interjected while Agent Hill was talking, it was with information he'd have wanted to know. She also just seemed friendly and personable overall, so maybe he could find a friend in her, outside of people who worked only for SHIELD. "Is there anything you need to know about me that the history books and SHIELD files won't tell you?"
Miss Engman lit up and began speaking rapidly, "Actually, yes. What was your exact experience waking up in modern New York? Have you been anywhere either there or in D.C. recently? Are there any places you'd like to see? Do you have things you want to learn about modern technology or culture? Things along those lines. But we can get to that later, if you decide to meet with me. Right now, are there any things you'd like to know about me?"
Steve hoped she'd written those questions down, because there were too many to answer all at once. He decided the last one was the most important, but he had no idea how to respond to it. What did you ask someone, when meeting them? And yet, this was more important than other times he'd met people here, because this woman could control whether he went into the field or not.
"I know that's a very general question," Miss Engman interrupted his wandering thoughts with another smile, "so why don't I just tell you some things about me, and you can ask questions and interrupt whenever you want."
Steve nodded, "OK." He tried to mentally prepare for a flood of information.
"OK," she breathed. "I'm a college student, a senior, at George Washington University studying Communications and Speech. It's not Psychology, but it's kind of like it, and it does help me understand people better. My major isn't why they called me in here, but I'll get to that. I'm nineteen years old, so you're right." Steve started at her age, and she grinned, "I am very young, but I took a lot of college courses in high school, and I've worked to graduate early. I want to be a SHIELD field agent someday, which is not why I went to college at all, but I'm glad to have a degree. My mother was a SHIELD agent, and my boyfriend works with them, and that's how I'm known to SHIELD at all. They don't usually work with people like me, but since I've been around here so long—"
"Hold on, what do you mean 'people like you'?" Steve asked. As far as he knew, anyone could become an agent if they went through training and were qualified.
"Eleanore, we discussed this." Hill actually sounded forbidding, and Miss Engman looked at her defiantly.
"Maria, I know. But this is information about me, so I have the right to give it out as I choose. He should know about it, too, in advance. I talked to Darren, and he agrees with me, and this is my choice. I know you're concerned—"
"But it's not just your choice." Agent Hill was absolute, and Steve started to feel frustrated at being talked about when he was right there. "He hasn't been informed about any of that yet, and SHIELD has the right to—"
"What, protect me from information? Like when you woke me up and tried to tell me it was 1944? That doesn't work out so well." Steve was sick of the secrets, and of being in the dark. Before he could go on, though, Miss Engman broke in.
"Captain Rogers, we're not trying to talk as if you're not here," she sounded apologetic. "It's just that this information concerns my personal safety, and if it were to be leaked, then both I and people I care about could be in danger. Agent Hill doesn't want to hide this from you, we just don't know how you'll react."
Steve felt himself calming slightly with her words, as understanding swept through his mind. "What could be so bad? Are you from the past too?" He joked, "Did you use to work for the Nazis or Hydra?" He looked at Miss Engman for a smile at his words, but she was frowning thoughtfully.
A silence descended on the room, and Steve began to worry he was right. Suddenly, Miss Engman seemed to process what he'd said, and she looked up at him, slightly alarmed.
"It's nothing like that," she assured him. "It's something else. And I'm going to tell you. Right now." She took a deep breath, and Agent Hill shifted in her seat.
"There's a new type of human," Miss Engman started. "People born with what is known as the X-Gene. Sometimes it lies dormant all their lives, or they don't notice its effects. More often, though, it grants 'superpowers,'" she crooked her fingers around the word. "I'm one of these people, and we're called mutants. We're a major minority; only a tiny fraction of the population has the X-Gene. Some people, people without the gene, don't like us, and they try to attack anyone they can find who shows any sign of being different from a 'normal'"—air quotes again— "human." She looked up at him, as though he were a judge about to read her sentence.
He thought for a moment, looking down at the table, at his reflection. Steve remembered how widespread intolerance was when he was growing up, although his parents had told him that all people were equal in God's eyes. Steve had seen the "separate-but-equal" facilities for people of color, and he'd seen the irrational fear shared by whites against anyone who was the least bit different. He supposed he'd gone to sleep in one type of racist world and had awoken in another. Then he realized what Miss Engman and Agent Hill must be afraid of— that he'd react the same way to her difference as many had acted towards other nationalities in the past. He looked back up into Miss Engman's worried eyes, and his heart went out to her. To be afraid of being judged, rejected, hurt because of something you were born with… Well, people obviously hadn't changed much in seventy years, but neither had he.
He knew he had to reassure her. "Miss Engman, I was raised to see all people as equals, to judge someone by their actions, and this is no different. I'll work with you, if you'll have me." The look of pure relief on her face tugged at his heart again, and he knew he'd made the right choice.
"Thank you, Captain Rogers," Miss Engman said with feeling. "But don't choose to work with me just for this. You can still have your days to decide, and I'll still understand if you want someone more professional or experienced." She was still smiling,
Agent Hill stood, looking much more relaxed, while still exuding strait-laced professionalism. "I think that's all of this interview I need to be here for. You two can continue as you like, but Miss Engman, don't forget to inform us if you schedule another meeting." She turned to Steve with a nod, "Captain," and then she walked out.
Miss Engman watched her walk out, and then grinned at Steve. "So," she said. "About that coffee…"