The Triskelion

Washington D.C.

15:00

(Excerpt from a conversation between Agent Poppy Patel and Director Nick Fury)

Fury: You are not allowed to put a control chip in his head.

Patel: It's the only way to ensure his cooperation with S.H.I.E.L.D. - that is why I'm putting all this effort into bringing him back isn't it?

Fury: We need Captain Rogers to come back exactly as he was - we can't risk anything that may jeopardize that.

Patel: It's a risk if we don't.

Fury: I'm surprised that you of all people would suggest that we have complete control over that man - given your history.

Patel: Understood sir, no control chip.

Chapter Two - A Man Out Of Time

Fury wanted her to take Captain Rogers on holiday.

Well, not exactly, it's not like they were going to sip mai tai's on the beaches of Tahiti. They were being relocated to a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe-house in Brooklyn. Originally Fury was sending them to Maine - quiet, idyllic, in some parts still relatively 'Old-World' - but Patel had intervened and a safe-house near Captain Rogers' old neighborhood had been cleared out and set up for their one month stay. Her reasoning being that while idyllic and quiet was all very well and good, familiar was still better for putting him at ease.

One month. They were expected to essentially live together for a month. In a two-bedroom apartment where they could only leave if they were wearing photostatic veils. Poppy had already put every takeaway delivery option on speed-dial and made ensured that the apartment had cable. If she was going to have to get Captain Rogers up to date on the 21st Century, the history channels would definitely help.

No MTV though, discovering you'd been frozen 70 years was traumatic enough without having to watch 16 And Pregnant. He'd probably ask to go back into the ice, and honestly Poppy wouldn't blame him.

As she sat next to Captain Rogers in the briefing room across from Fury, she was impressed with how calm the super soldier appeared since only 2 days ago she had chased him through the streets of New York. Sharp eyes still picked up on the tension in his shoulders, the whitening of his knuckles as he clasped his hands together on the metal table in front of them, the eyes that instantly sought out the exits to every room he entered. To someone like Poppy, who was an expert in hiding her emotions, it was obvious that he most certainly wasn't 'okay'.

It was going to be a long month.

"A car is waiting downstairs to take you to the safe-house," Fury told the pair. "After that, it'll just be the two of you. Agent Patel is one of our most competent operatives Captain Rogers - you'll be in good hands."

Large eyes going wide in indignation at the word 'competent' while Captain Rogers expressed gratitude, Poppy opened her mouth to argue that she was a damn sight more than competent when Fury cut her off.

"Agent Patel, I'd like you to stay behind a moment - Captain Rogers you don't mind waiting outside? It won't take long."

"Of course not," Captain Rogers replied politely as he stood, extending a hand to grasp Fury's in a firm shake. "I appreciate what you're doing sir."

"You're a hero Cap," Fury replied ruefully, "It's the least we can do for what you've done for us."

As soon as Captain Rogers had closed the door behind him, Poppy was on her feet. "Competent?" She challenged. "I'm the best goddamn operative you've got and you know it! And you're wasting resources by turning me into a glorified babysitter turned history teacher."

"You've got a job to do, Agent Patel," Fury's voice was firm and mildly exasperated. "This is your assignment and I am getting sick and tired of your tantrums. You're well on your way to getting benched from field-roles for an indeterminate amount of time."

Unstoppable force, meet immovable object.

"I know you don't believe me, but this isn't some form of punishment," Fury offered in a tired voice. "You are a good agent, I can't argue there, probably too good. But thanks to your upbringing you are quite frankly terrible with people. You have the skills and knowledge to help Captain Rogers with his rehabilitation, you just have no interest in it because you don't think it's worth your time. Well, let me ask you this," He paused, peering at her from across the table where she stared sullenly back with her arms crossed, "What if I'd thought you weren't worth my time 7 years ago?"

Every muscle in her body stiffened as his words hit a nerve. That was a dirty underhanded move, and Fury knew it. Playing on something that she was insecure about, knowing that her sense of worth was skewed, she'd almost be proud if that one question didn't tear her up inside. Standing straighter and holding her hands loosely clasped in front of her in a 'at ease' stance, she almost appeared a different woman.

Like a child who had been reprimanded by their parent.

"Fine," Poppy answered after a long pause, "No more complaints."

"Glad to hear it. Now, I expect regular reports twice a week," Fury instructed as though their little moment had never occurred. "Obviously there are things that we would prefer you didn't share just yet, but too many secrets aren't always a good thing either."

"What level clearance does he have?" Poppy asked, knowing this would be an easier way of determining what information she could share with him and what would be classified.

After a moment's thought, Fury replied, "Level 5. Whatever information he requests, give him the Level 5 version of it."

"Understood, I should probably get going before the old man starts to get suspicious," Poppy stated, motioning towards the door with her head.

"Goodluck," Fury nodded his head, adding once her hand was on the door handle, "And remember, Poppy, you're there to help him."

"Understood," Poppy repeated formally, not quite ready to forgive the harshness of his words moments before, closing the door after herself.

Captain Rogers looked up from where he had been leaning against the wall opposite the door, hands clasped loosely in front of him, quickly standing straight once he saw her exit. Sharp blue eyes didn't miss the way she seemed deflated, exhaling slowly before throwing her shoulders back and pinning him with her stare. Large kohl-lined eyes that were harder than they should have been for someone so young, the stare of a woman who had experienced more by 26 than most people did in a lifetime. And beneath that an uncertainty that disappeared so quickly he wondered if he had imagined it.

Falling into step beside her, they walked through the building in silence. Silence that Captain Rogers didn't break until they had exited the building and instead of approaching the shiny black SUV idling at the curb, Poppy had taken a hard right and continued along the sidewalk.

"I thought Director Fury said that there was a car taking us?" He hesitated between following orders or following her.

"Fury says a lot of things," Poppy replied irritatedly, the conversation with Fury having upset her enough that she forgot about possibly being seen. "It's not that far and I could do with some fresh air."

Making a split-second decision Captain Rogers strode after her, catching up in a matter of seconds thanks to his longer gait. Poppy glanced up at him and smirked sarcastically, "Good call."

They spent most of the walk in silence, Captain Rogers merely raising his eyebrows in bemusement after the third time Poppy diverted a call from the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who had been waiting to drive them. She refused to explain herself to some Level 4 who was a glorified chauffeur and had no doubt run to Fury already tattling on her for not taking the car like a good little girl.

Granted, she was now regretting venturing out without a photostatic veil on - cursing her emotions for getting the better of her. Even though it was totally unwarranted, she couldn't help but project some of that blame onto Captain Rogers. It was his fault she was here after all. If he had just died in that crash like he was supposed to instead of somehow preserving himself she wouldn't need to be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s version of Florence Nightingale right now.

"Director Fury mentioned that you were part of the team that, uh, helped me after I was found?" Captain Rogers broached the not quite comfortable silence between them, he was a man out of time but that didn't mean he couldn't pick up on the signals she was sending. It was quite obvious that Poppy had a problem, and that that problem was most likely him or to do with him.

"I headed the team," Poppy corrected sharply. "But yes, I watched you sleep for 3 months and stopped you from dying from cardiac-arrest and ensured you awoke with all your fingers and toes." After being left with nothing but stunned silence she impatiently prompted, "You're welcome."

"Thank you?" Captain Rogers replied haltingly, still feeling as though the floor had been pulled out from beneath him yet he was still expected to stand as though it were still there. And Agent Poppy Patel certainly wasn't helping him find his balance at all. If anything it felt like every time she opened her mouth he understood less and less.

"Yes, well, Fury thought it would be a good experience for me," Poppy stated flippantly. "And seeing as I was the only person who had a similar physiology as you, not to mention enough brains to know how to keep you from dying, I didn't really have much of a choice."

Brow furrowing in confusion Captain Rogers' eyes flicked over her body almost suspiciously as he asked, "Similar physiology? I don't mean to offend you but you're not exactly…"

"What?" Poppy replied with a raised brow. "A hulking monument to masculinity? You're right. But I do happen to have one very similar addition also floating around in my bloodstream."

Now those blond brows shot upwards in surprise. Poppy knew she probably shouldn't be telling him that - it wasn't exactly Level 5 knowledge. Due to it tending to open a can of worms on just how she came to have super soldier serum written into her DNA. But she figured it would come up sooner or later and quite honestly wanted the entire conversation out of the way. Before he began to question why she was trusted to protect him all by herself.

"You - you got the serum too?" Captain Rogers asked, stunned. "Are Super Soldiers commonplace now?"

Laughing, though the sound was lacking in humour, Poppy answered, "Don't worry Captain Rogers - you and I are still a very rare breed. Only difference is your experience was voluntary."

"So, can you…?" Captain Rogers trailed off, unsure of how to ask if her abilities were exactly the same as his - deciding not to touch on the topic of consent just then.

"Shoot lasers from my eyes?" Poppy's lips had twisted into a sarcastic mockery of a smile, it was still unclear on whether she were teasing him or being purposely rude. "Unfortunately no, I didn't get that upgrade. Pretty sure I could go toe-to-toe with you though."

Approaching a large brick apartment building, the third one on that block, Poppy's pace began to slow. It didn't look like anything special, but Captain Rogers supposed that was the point. Except he recognised the area. It had changed obviously, but underneath he could tell that it was his old neighbourhood. It was oddly comforting.

"There it is," Poppy announced with an exaggerated flourish. "Home sweet home."

The small two bedroom apartment was...cozy.

"You're through there," Poppy instructed with a flippant hand gesture towards the door in question as she locked the front door behind them. "I'm opposite you, the bathroom's down the hall, the kitchen's through there, and you're standing in our apparently spacious living room."

Turning around, Captain Rogers took it all in. While the obvious disdain in Poppy's voice proved that she was used to somewhat larger lodgings, Captain Rogers was impressed by the size. It was at almost twice as large as the apartment he used to share with his mother before her passing. Most of the furnishings were familiar to him, except for a few objects that were obviously the product of modern technology.

Already in the small kitchen, Poppy was looking through the cupboards hunting for all the ingredients necessary to create a cup of coffee. The fancy machine she had requested on the requisition had apparently been forgotten and all she had was a coffee-pot and some creamer in the fridge. "We have two options - either you can settle in or we can jump straight into some of the history you slept through," Poppy called out to him. "A kind of Twenty First Century For Dummies type thing."

Frowning at the word 'dummies' - he was a man out of time, not an idiot - Captain Rogers trailed through the apartment. While the technology had certainly advanced, the super-soldier was relieved to see that for the most part things were still the same. Electricity had certainly improved, not to mention mattress quality as he sat down on the edge of his bed.

Taking a moment, he listened to Poppy moving around in the kitchen, resting his shaking hands on his knees before curling them into fists. Slowly opening his fingers he was relieved to find the shaking had stopped. It was something that had been occurring intermittently since he had first woken up in that strange room. He had always had steady hands, even before the serum, and it was a disconcerting thing to experience.

It was something he had seen before, in the elderly and the men who let the horrors of what they experienced while fighting the war win the battle in their minds. Battle fatigue they called it. He had won the battle, it appeared, but at what personal cost.

Knowing that being left alone with his own thoughts wouldn't help him right now, Captain Rogers ventured back into the living room. There he found Poppy already seated on the couch with a cup of coffee in her hands, the agent looking up at him as he entered the room.

"Figured you'd be eager to see what you've missed," Her voice held a faint hint of glee at being proven correct. Tilting her head she indicated the spot on the couch next to her, "Take a seat Captain Rogers. Unfortunately your records didn't list how you like to take your coffee, sorry if you're not a sugar and creamer type of man."

Just like that she'd managed to throw him off balance once again, not expecting her to go out of her way to make him a beverage also. Especially with the feeling that she considered being assigned to him a complete and utter burden. Lowering himself onto the couch next to her, his lips twitched faintly upward as he picked up the mug off the table, "Thank you."

Shrugging as though it were no big deal, Poppy picked up the remote and spun it around in her hand a few times, "Ready to find out what the world's been up to since 1944?"

Nodding, Captain Rogers replied, "I guess so."

For the first two weeks it was an endless montage of documentaries, questions, coffee, and takeout delivery guys.

They'd made it to the 70's and Captain Rogers had progressed to being able to use the TV and make the coffee every morning as he woke up earlier than Poppy. She would then make scrambled eggs with toast and bacon, because Captain Rogers would somehow overcook the eggs and undercook the bacon and Poppy wasn't the most tactful at telling people they'd done something wrong. The look on her face alone after a mouthful of the rubbery eggs had told Captain Rogers more than enough.

They'd fallen into a routine, and in Poppy's opinion it was almost disgustingly domestic. Neither talked overly much, and that suited the both of them just fine.

Keeping a record of Captain Rogers' mental health was proving challenging, as Poppy didn't have the experience in being comforting and Captain Rogers didn't trust her enough to divulge anything personal. As a result all of her reports came across as very clinical and reiterating that Captain Rogers was doing "just fine". She didn't believe it for a second, but it wasn't like she could record assumptions - S.H.I.E.L.D. expected statements and facts.

One thing they didn't mention was how little Captain Rogers was sleeping, because then Poppy would have to explain why she was awake to notice. And that was a conversation she wasn't going to have with Fury again..

Except now it was Tuesday night and Poppy had been staring at the ceiling for 4 hours because everytime she closed them she relived yet another memory of the time spent with her father. And she was exhausted. While knowing self-medicating was frowned upon in S.H.I.E.L.D., especially while on assignment, Poppy had had less than 14 hours sleep in the last 3 days and it was getting to her.

She needed a drink.

Naturally the safe-house didn't come stocked with a bar, which meant she had to go foraging for alcohol herself. Knowing there was a 24 hour liquor store a block away, she dressed quickly bundling up in a coat and purple scarf and grabbing a photostatic veil out of her field bag. While she had been reckless on the trip to the safe-house with Captain Rogers, she wasn't about to make the same mistake again. Granted, she didn't imagine any of her father's people would think to look for her at a 24-hour liquor store in Brooklyn, but you never knew.

Poppy had just unlocked the deadbolt when she heard Captain Rogers say, "It's pretty late for a walk."

Letting out a dry laugh, Poppy turned around to see him standing in the doorway to the hall with his arms crossed, "Well, you're not wrong." Looking at him, she made the decision that if she was going to break the rules and go out, she may as well break them all the way. "Want to go on a field-trip Captain Rogers?"

"A field-trip? At 4am?"

Nodding, Poppy held the photostatic veil up between two fingers as her lips curved into a smirk, "Only catch is you've got to wear one of these - and let me do the talking."

After a brief hesitation as he thought it over, Captain Rogers nodded in return, "Agreed."

Less than 15 minutes later both of their photostatic veils were in place and projecting a face that wasn't their own, Captain Rogers was looking decidedly more modern in a hoodie and jacket, and the pair were heading down the street in search of the 24-hour liquor store. Neither said much, just strolled side by side in a silence that had grown decidedly more companionable since their first walk together. Captain Rogers was taking it all in, experiencing first-hand how much the world had changed instead of just through a television screen.

As they entered the liquor store, a red neon sign declaring it "Red Spot", his eyes blinked against the bright fluorescent lighting. That was one thing he could do without - fluorescent lighting. It was much too bright, the slight buzzing the bulbs emitted made his back teeth ache, and they cast everything in a sickly sheen. Turning Poppy's dusky brown skin a sallow grey.

Trailing her fingers along the glass bottles Poppy sauntered down the first aisle, Captain Rogers trailing behind her looking both curious and mildly uncomfortable. At the time coming with her had seemed like a good idea, a way to get out of that apartment and his own thoughts. But this tiny corner liquor store didn't seem like the right place to do it. He hadn't been sure what to expect from an early morning walk, but a liquor store certainly wasn't it. It certainly clouded the opinion he had formed about Poppy in the short time they'd been together.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had been professional, if borderline antagonistic, and her propensity for sarcasm appeared to be at times physically held back. Captain Rogers was unsure if this attitude was for him personally, or if she was like this with everyone. While it was obvious she was trying, Poppy was not the most nurturing of people and all of her inquiries towards his mental health came across as highly clinical. He often felt like he was still her experiment, not a man she was tasked with helping but a project she was expected to succeed at.

"What's your poison, Captain?" Poppy asked suddenly as she tapped her nails against a bottle of Grey Goose Vodka, head tilted quizzically as she looked up at him.

"Excuse me?" He frowned back at her, certain he had misheard her question.

Continuing along the aisle, Poppy's fingers curled around the neck of an expensive bottle of amber liquid, "I've always been a fan of scotch - the older the better. Though that's probably my father's influence," she added as an afterthought, tucking the bottle into the crook of her elbow and grabbing another one.

"I was never a big drinker," Captain Rogers answered her, which was true as he'd very rarely had the money spare for it. There had been times with Bucky...but he didn't want to start thinking about Bucky again.

Flashing him a mirthless smile as she headed towards the counter Poppy shrugged, "Neither am I."

Captain Rogers thought her words over, the dark bruising around her eyes and the fact he had caught her trying to sneak out of the apartment at 4am to buy alcohol - maybe he wasn't the only one who had things they didn't want to think about.

"You know what, Captain?" Poppy called back to him with what he would almost describe as a wolfish grin, "Grab another bottle."

After a noticeable hesitation Captain Rogers picked up the last bottle on the shelf and trailed after Poppy, wondering if he was going to regret the decision later.

A/N:

Hi everyone!

Oh my god, thank you for the positive response chapter one received! I'm so glad you all like Poppy - I was actually pretty worried that people wouldn't, but that being said her true bitchiness hasn't really surfaced until now haha maybe you all hate her after this chapter? Who knows!

I'm looking forward to hearing more of what you think, and more importantly you all ENJOYING my fic because it is for all of you! Fingers-crossed I do Cap justice haha

Have fun reading!

- susiesamurai xo