I was instructed to drive from the airport to a facility Steve Rogers used for exercise. Both Nick Fury and my sister believed I was the only one who had a prayer of convincing the Captain to join our cause.
"Captain Rogers?" With hesitant feet, I enter the gym. "Hi."
He turns to face me, unwrapping his knuckles as a frown turns down his lips. "How can I help you ma'am?"
"I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Fury sent me to... persuade you."
"By what means?" The Captain chuckles lightly.
"Nothing too scandalous, I assure you." Reluctantly, I allow a smile to tug at my lips.
He begins to clean up a mess that was there when I walked in. Sand, from a punching bag he ripped open, is scattered across the floor. "I'm listening."
I move forward to grab another bag. Clutching it in my hand, I hoist it up to the hook. Rogers looks surprised, but he remains silent.
"We know you've thought about putting down the stars and stripes, but, the world needs you."
"Stars and stripes are a little old fashioned. Don't you think?"
"Maybe old fashioned is just what people need right now. Give them hope, just like you did in the 40's."
He pauses. Taking a deep breath before speaking, "I haven't much to offer this modern world anymore. Everything's new and unfamiliar to me."
I nod in understanding. "I thought I had nothing to give the world either, especially because of things, bad things, I did. Now though, there's a need in me to do more. To be better than I ever was."
"Bad things?"
"I'd appreciate if you refrained from changing the subject, Captain."
A chuckle, "apologies, ma'am."
"Dismissing your prior notions about this organization, I am aware of how you woke up in Brooklyn..., it's been beneficial for me. Getting me stable, assigning me tasks to keep me busy, it can do the same for you." I lean back on my heels, "you might be intimidated by a world you know almost nothing about anymore. Still, you haven't given it much of a chance."
"Haven't seen a good reason to."
"You act as though you're centuries away from comprehending."
"Experience ages you. I've seen horrendous wars this virgin society could not fathom." Rogers arranges his clothes neatly in a duffel bag. I see the muscles in his arms shift, the subtlest movement causing veins to pop up.
"Then we're both old."
"I'm 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 older than you."
"Spirit wise, maybe. On the outside though, you and I are just the same. Both soldiers from another world who detest feeling useless. Even if we're unsure how to put ourselves to use."
Steve bites his inner cheek. "No doubt, we are two very different types of soldiers."
"You don't say."
"In my defense, you aren't the most soldier looking figure."
Pursing my lips, I reply carefully. "Warriors and soldiers alike come in many shapes and sizes. You may be tall and broad, strong with abilities I do not have. However, I am lithe and able to fit in places you cannot, look unassuming, non-threatening."
He grunts in what I presume to be agreement.
"Just think about it?"
There is a moment of tense silence. My words hang heavy in the air and for a moment, I think he'll refuse.
"Can you leave me the profiles?"
Delight fills me, "yes, sir. I'll set them on this table."
With a flick of my finger, I summon a tablet and some folders. "Take your time."
Rogers gives me a parting smile, "Yes ma'am."
I take my leave a disappear into the shadows once I reach the hall.
----------
Fury sent me upstairs the moment Steve's ride touched the flight deck.
"All this must be overwhelming."
We walk alongside each other, the tall blonde taking long strides I struggle to keep up with. "Actually," he looks around at the bustling deck. Soldiers running in lines, clad in the same uniforms. "This is quite familiar."
"It was quite a fuss around here when they found you in the ice. Has Coulson asked you to sign his trading cards yet?"
Steve arches a brow, "I'm on trading cards?"
"They're vintage, he's very proud."
Natasha sidles up. "Captain Rogers." She says politely.
I don't miss the light blush rising on his cheeks. "Madam."
Laughing under my breath, I break away to head back inside.
Moments after I shut and seal the door everything tilts abruptly one way, then the other.
A hum fills the room, it takes a second for me to realize we're going up. All the way into the sky.
----------
Steve does not leave my sisters side for a second, tailing her like a lost dog.
It's cute.
Though frankly a bit much.
I remain up in my perch, legs dangling above the desks in the control room as I settle on metal scaffolding.
Preferring to observe from afar, overtop the fresh chaos erupting, I keep my eyes on one target rather than trying to follow multiple people with their rushed movements and hurried words.
Natasha, without so much as a glance to me, motions with her fingers to get my attention. "Come on down."
Heeding her word, my body slides smoothly to the ground where I land on two firm feet.
"You summoned me?" I bow theatrically, placing my arm along my chest akin to a butler awaiting orders.
"Funny." My antics are good enough to warrant an eye roll. "Loki's been tracked."
I transfer my attention from Natasha to the nearest computer screen where the raven haired gods picture is displayed. "I, um, can't read that."
Natasha raises a brow, "English might yet be your worst enemy."
Especially in a country that primarily speaks it. I know.
"Pozhaluysta?" I beg, bringing out the puppy dog stare. Wide and innocent, though unrelenting.
Speaking professionally in English is not a problem, I can speak with unmatched elegance. Slang, and casual small talk is not my strong suit, however. The documents I read on the plane caused enough agony.
She caves, "Fine."
Taking mere moments, whereas I would have taken days, Natasha reads from the screen.
Flawlessly translating in Russian as her gaze roams over the unfamiliar English tongue written in glowing letters.
"Ah! See, was that so difficult?"
"Yes."