On his way back to his apartment, Steve caught himself wondering whether Eleanore had discussed his operational status with Fury. Probably not. She would have mentioned it, along with the possibility of someone offering him a mission at— he checked his watch— three o'clock in the morning. I lost track of time. He considered texting her the news, but it might wake her up. He'd look at the debriefing packet first to get a sense of his mission. And he'd get a shower.
As he reached the top of the stairs, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and he turned to find a man in a nondescript, black suit standing outside his door. Steve stopped for a moment, until he saw the SHIELD logo emblazoned on the box he carried. The man just looked at him, but didn't say anything.
Steve walked toward the door and held out his hand, "Steve Rogers."
"I know," the man replied quickly, shaking his hand vigorously. "Phil Coulson, Agent of SHIELD. It's an honor, sir."
"Nice to meet you," Steve replied amiably, a little uncomfortable with the way Coulson was staring at him. "Um, do you want to come inside? Or should we go now?"
"Oh, you have time to get ready," Coulson assured him, following him into the dark apartment. Steve flicked on the kitchen lights to let the agent see where he was going.
"Excuse me, I'll just put this stuff away," Steve said politely. "Have a seat wherever you want."
"Nice place," Coulson called from the couch, where he settled on the edge of the cushion.
"Thanks," Steve replied, heading into his bedroom and picking up a plaid shirt, white T-shirt, slacks, underwear, and socks from their respective places in his closet. He grabbed a belt off the hook on his door, and strode back into the living room. "I'll be quick, then we can get going," he promised, heading into the bathroom. He stopped, remembering his manners. "Can I get you anything? Water?"
"I'm good, thanks," Coulson smiled at him, leaning his elbows on his knees.
Steve nodded and shut the bathroom door, stripping and turning on the water as quickly as he could. There was something to be said for his pre-serum body: it was easier to wash. He had just lathered up with the spicy-smelling soap when he heard a knock on his door.
"Steve? It's Elle." The door clicked as she opened it, and she knocked on the bathroom door.
"I can hear you," he called, hurriedly rinsing off. "Just a minute."
"Oh, hey Phil," Eleanore's voice contained a hint of surprise. Steve worried for a moment that news of her alien acquaintances would make things tense for other SHIELD members, but he figured she could handle herself.
Her voice faded under the stream of water as she walked away from the bathroom. Steve only caught snatches of conversation, but they sounded calm enough. "…already?" "I was going to…" "have a ride…" None of it made sense, but he expected to catch up when he got out there.
Steve turned off the water and grabbed one of his new towels from the rack on the door. These things were soft, but they left fuzz all over him, especially in his hair. Eleanore had said it would wear off after a wash or two. Still, it cost him time as he combed the stuff from his hair and sloughed it from his skin. Then he put on deodorant— a greatly improved formula compared to the old stuff— and shaved, because he didn't know when he'd get another chance to do so. He got dressed in the steamy bathroom, which made his clothes stick to his skin, and checked himself over once more in the mirror before opening the door and walking out into the hum of conversation.
Both Eleanore and Coulson stopped talking and looked up at him as he walked out, Elle with a smile, Coulson with a strange mixture of pride and tension. Elle was still in the overly large T-shirt and shorts that she used for pajamas, and her feet were still bare. She must have rushed over as soon as someone alerted her to the mission. She had a glass of water in her hand— one of Steve's— and she was seated at the island on the barstool facing the living room.
"Good morning," she greeted him, hopping off her perch.
"Hey," he said, wondering if she would be able to tell he hadn't gotten any sleep.
"Ready for a debriefing?"
"Sure," Steve looked to Coulson, who stood and cleared his throat.
"Actually, we'll have to talk on the plane. I just received word that we're needed ASAP." He tapped his ear, and Steve saw a tiny wire wrapped around it that must be a part of a headset. "Elle, we'll see you there later?"
"Yep, I'll be there in a couple of hours," she promised, moving into the kitchen. She opened the cupboard above the sink and retrieved protein and granola bars, before reaching into the pantry and taking out a few bottles of water. Then she stepped around a confused Steve and lifted a duffel bag from behind the island. "I got your go-bag out of your room, and here's some food for the road." She handed the bag to him and zipped the bars and water inside. "Don't forget to eat."
"I won't," Steve promised, wondering if he should be embarrassed being bossed around in front of Coulson. Eleanore meant it well, though, so he shrugged it off. "Thank you."
"Have a fun flight," she smiled up at him and headed for the door. "See ya, Phil."
"Bye," Coulson waved, grinning at her as the door shut. They stood in silence for a moment before Coulson shook his head and approached Steve. "I have a car outside waiting to take us to the airport."
"Alright," Steve nodded, and turned off the light as he followed Coulson out the door and locked it behind them.
Their drive was short and quiet in the sleek black car. Coulson drove, and Steve sat shotgun. They went to a local airport, and drove right onto the tarmac, where a small plane that somewhat reminded Steve of the Valkyrie was waiting. Steve followed Coulson on board and took a seat as the ramp-like door shut behind them. The sun was just coming up as the plane took off, heading up and East, out over the ocean.
The water gave Steve unwanted memories, so he focused on the tablet Coulson handed him instead, and polished off a protein bar. The agent sat at a communications platform, talking to someone Steve couldn't hear over the distance between them. Once they were out over the ocean, Coulson hung up the headset he was using and walked over to Steve.
Wanting to avoid more awkward silence, Steve motioned with his tablet and confirmed the facts. "So this Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?" The green monster rampaging on the screen only vaguely reminded Steve of Red Skull. At least this guy could turn back to 'normal'.
"A lot of people were," Coulson replied, shrugging. "You were the world's first super hero." He paused, and Steve didn't look up from the tablet. "Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula."
"Didn't really go his way, did it?" Steve asked ruefully. According to the file, Banner tried to keep the beast contained as much as possible to avoid harming any innocents. Unfortunately, it relied on his emotions. Steve wondered if Elle would be called in if the Hulk lost control.
"Not so much," Coulson confirmed. "When he's not that thing, though, guy's like a… Steven Hawking."
Steve glanced up, unsure of the reference.
Coulson saw it and shook his head. "He's like a… smart person." He looked away, and Steve nodded politely.
"I gotta say— it's an honor to meet you. Officially." Coulson seemed so excited, so Steve looked up and smiled encouragingly. "I sort of met you," he continued, "I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping."
He probably didn't want to say that… Steve stopped making eye contact and hid an uncomfortable smile as he got out of his seat.
"I mean… I was present. While you were… unconscious. From the ice." Coulson amended, and Steve walked to the front of the plane and leaned an arm on the door frame. The water was relatively calm, and no ice in sight.
"You know it's really just a— just a huge honor to have you on board." Agent Coulson followed him and mimicked his stance. "It's automatic, people don't realize they do it. Communication Accommodation." Eleanore's voice rang through his mind form a conversation about the theory she was studying, and he bit back another smile.
"Well, I hope I'm the man for the job." Steve noted how low they were flying— maybe a hundred feet above the ocean. He wondered if the plan was designed specifically for this height. If Darren were here, he'd be explaining things like that.
"Oh you are. Absolutely." Coulson said with conviction. "Uh, we made some… modifications to the uniform," he smiled proudly. "I had a little design input."
"Uniform?" Steve asked. "Aren't the stars and stripes a little…" he shrugged, "old fashioned?"
Coulson winced slightly, "Everything that happening? The things that are about to come to light? People might just need a little old fashioned."
Steve felt the serious implication of Coulson's words, and looked out the window again, thinking. He knew that agencies like SHIELD and the CIA, even the military kept secrets from the general population. They were meant to protect the civilians and keep them from panic, and to keep the agents and soldiers who went out on secret missions safe. Steve's own missions had never been released until months afterward, and with almost no photographic evidence. They just replayed the same clips over in a different order for the propaganda films.
Steve firmly believed in sheltering everyone possible from the death and blood and killing he'd seen. He knew Eleanore in particular wanted to test her skills in the field, but Steve had been relieved when she'd mentioned dealing with SHIELD's training program first. He'd been thrown into battle with minimal realistic training, and some of the sights still kept him up at night, memories and flashbacks running rampant in the dark. No one told you what it was like to kill another person, and Steve would be hard-pressed to explain it himself. When he thought about it, all that came to mind was their splayed bodies and sightless eyes. And the blood.
Steve shook his head to clear his mind and noted a speck on the horizon.
"We're coming up on the ship," Coulson remarked, and Steve saw a massive aircraft carrier swim into shape through the waves and sunlight. The plane slowed and Steve returned to his seat, gripping the armrest tightly as they landed. To his relief, he hadn't left any finger indentations behind when he stood up.
The ramp door opened, and Steve followed Coulson out as the agent gave orders to the deck crew about his gear. A professional, petite woman with flaming red hair met them as they descended.
"Agent Romanov," Coulson greeted her, "This is Captain Rogers."
"Ma'am," Steve nodded to her, standing up straight.
"Hi," she responded disinterestedly, turning to Coulson. "They need you on the bridge. They're starting the face trace."
"See you there," Coulson said, and jogged quickly away. Steve wondered what a face-trace was, and whether he was supposed to follow Romanov or the agent fading rapidly in the distance.
"There was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice." Romanov spoke to him, and Steve assumed he was supposed to stay with her. "Thought Coulson was gonna swoon." They began walking toward the railing on the edge of the deck. "Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?" She wore a ghost of a smile.
"Trading cards?" Elle had never mentioned these, and Steve thought they must have come out after he went in the ice.
"They're vintage. He'd very proud."
Looking ahead, Steve recognized the human face of Bruce Banner from the debriefing packet. The man was stumbling around, trying to stay out of everyone's way as he navigated around a Harrier jet.
"Dr. Banner," Steve called, bringing the man's attention to him.
"Oh yeah, hi," Banner shook his outstretched hand with an uncomfortable smile and looked Steve up and down. "They told me you'd be coming."
"Word is you can find the cube," Steve switched into his most friendly attitude because the man seemed distracted and ill at ease.
"Is that the only word on me?" Banner glanced around nervously. Steve could see how uneasy he was, and suspected meeting new people only made the man think of someone else he could harm if things went wrong.
"The only word I care about," he assured Banner, and the other man nodded, reevaluating him.
"It must be strange for you… all this." Banner gestured around at the ship. Steve could tell he was trying to be more cordial.
"Well, this is actually kind of familiar," he replied, noting the troops running around the deck, the pilots checking their planes and… strapping them down.
"Gentlemen," Romanov intervened, walking up beside them. "You might wanna step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breathe." A siren began sounding, and Steve heard the water around the ship begin to churn.
"Is this a submarine?" he asked incredulously, walking with Banner to look over the railing.
"Really. They want me in a submerged, pressurized metal container?" Banner asked scornfully, and Steve had to agree with his caution.
Romanov said nothing as they peered over the side of the ship. The water was agitated all right, but something was rising out of it. Steve suddenly recognized a jet engine's propellers, only put on sideways. A hovercraft?! The ship began to rise, and the wind got more intense. Steve stepped back, not wanting to pitch into the propellers to a quick, sausage death.
"Oh no, this is much worse." Banner commented, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. They both turned to head inside, and Steve noted the crew were donning oxygen helmets and sealing the planted to the deck of the now-airborne carrier.
Romanov led them inside, and up several levels to the main deck. They stepped into organized chaos, with people running around and shouting things about the ship to each other as they examined computer screens full of readouts. Fury was standing at the helm looking over everyone, and when Steve saw him he remembered their bet from the night before.
"We're at level, sir." Agent Hill's voice rang through the room, and Steve saw her turn to Fury.
"Good. Let's vanish," the older man replied. Steve didn't see what happened, but he assumed they masked the ship so that people on the ground couldn't see it.
"Gentlemen," Fury greeted them, turning and walking toward the large conference table in the center of the room. Steve fished his money out of his pocket and gave Fury ten dollars before moving to examine the sets of translucent monitors and the view of the clouds beyond.
"Doctor, thank you for coming," Steve heard Fury's voice behind him, and he descended to the next level, where all the computers and people running around were.
"Thanks for asking nicely," Banner replied, and Steve detected sarcasm. "So, uh, how long am I staying?"
"Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the plane," Fury assured him.
"Where are we with that?" Banner asked, and Steve noticed Coulson walking around a hub of computers not unlike the ones Darren had shown him at SHIELD.
"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet." Coulson sounded proud. "Cell phone, laptops… If it's connected to the Internet, it's eyes and ears for us."
"That's still not gonna find him in time," Romanov commented from where she knelt by a screen.
"You have to narrow your field," Banner said thoughtfully. "How many spectrometers do you have access to?"
"How many are there?" Fury asked, and Steve felt himself getting lost already.
"Call every lab you know." Banner removed his jacket, getting down to business. "Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm— basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places." Fury nodded, though Steve suspected he didn't understand most of what Banner had just said. "Do you have somewhere for me to work?"
"Agent Romanov, would you show Dr. Banner to his laboratory, please?" Fury asked.
Romanov nodded and walked up the stairs, gesturing for Banner to follow her. "You're gonna love it, doc. We've got all the toys."
"Agent Coulson," Fury called, "would you show Captain Rogers to his room?"
"Of course," Coulson said, and Steve followed him out of the room and down a hallway to the left. They went down a flight of stairs to another hall with sliding panel doors lining each side.
"This is your room," Coulson brought them up short to a door numbered 1776. "They brought your luggage from the plane. It open to your keycard."
"Thanks," Steve said, sliding the card from his pocket and waving it in front of the red light on the panel, which flashed to green as the door slid open. It was a small room with a bunk built into the wall, a tiny desk, and some shelves. Steve's bag had been placed just under the window.
"You can get some rest for now, if you want." Coulson stood outside the door, as Steve took off his jacket and laid it across the back of the chair.
"I'm good for now," he said, and he was. He felt plenty awake and ready for action. What he wanted to do was figure out the geography of the ship, and maybe learn a little of how it worked.
"Okay, well I have to go to the observation deck. Want to come?" Coulson sounded nonchalant. Steve considered it for a moment. On the one hand, he wanted to explore the ship, but on the other hand he wanted to be available in case he was needed. Besides, it wouldn't hurt him to get to know more agents, since he'd be working with them in the future.
"Sure," he agreed, and followed Coulson back to the room of blinking screens and talking people.
A/N: No real action yet, but it's coming. Please leave reviews to let me know how you're all liking hte story so far!
Thanks for reading,
PettyWhiteRose