F I V E

05. | the planning.
to work together you need a team

steve.

•

THE HAZY yellow light shines over the map in the hidden bunker underneath London's streets. People make a commotion from all around the place, scampering around like ants. I stand over the map wearing an SSR uniform complete with the golden badges as Gen and Peggy have. I have more and different ones than both of them, but I still feel like one of them. Gen peers at the map from my right, glancing up every so often at Peggy, who is across from her.

After I returned from the journey to save Bucky and the rest of the 107th from Hydra, nothing has been quite the same. From when I hugged Gen because of my lack of self control to spilling every detail about the man with the red face and no nose, something has felt different between us. She knew that I trusted her with my life before, sure — well, at least I hope she knows — but now is different. I trust her with everything. If I ever have something that I need to say to get off my chest, she's the person I go to. Maybe it's just because she is a psychologist, but I would have started doing that more beforehand because she has been one since I've known her. I don't know, I just feel like there's something more between us than there was before.

"The fifth one was here in Poland, near the Baltic," I mumble, trying to recall what I saw on the map when I was in the Hydra camp and drawing marks on the map to point them out. "And the sixth one was.....right about here, thirty or forty miles west of the Maginot line." I stand there for a moment, in awe with myself as a man pulls the map off the table.

"And you got all of that with just a quick look?" Gen asks me thoughtfully, glancing up to meet my gaze.

"Yep," I confirm, twirling the pencil around between my fingers.

"But nobody's perfect," Peggy points out.

Gen gives her a death glare, mentally spitting a scold at her.

I quickly set the pencil down on the table, smiling at the two. I watch Gen closely as she turns on her heal, away from our table. I can't help but notice the small blush on her cheeks as she steps away, causing my face to flush too. We migrate to another table, the giant one in the center of the room, with a map and small figurines to represent certain things.

"These are the weapon factories that we know about," I say, scanning over the small plastic flags and buildings. "Sergeant Barnes said they shipped all the other parts to another facility that isn't on the map."

"Agent Carter, coordinate with MI-6," Colonel Phillips orders as he steps beside her. "I want every allied eyeball looking for that main Hydra base."

"What about us?" Peggy asks him.

He stops striding away, and we stop following. He turns to face us with the average scowl. "We are going to set a fire under Johann Schmidt's ass," he says, taking a paper that a blonde Private (Lorraine?) hands him.

"Well that sounds lovely," Gen mutters under her breath.

"What do you say, Rogers and Edwards?" Colonel questions us. "Rogers, it's your map, and Edwards has brains. You think you can wipe Hydra off of it?"

Gen scoffs.

"Yes, sir," I reply. "But I'll need a bigger team." I quickly glance down at Gen, whose eyes lie on the floorboards as a smile slowly creeps across her red lips.

"We're already putting together the best men," Colonel says.

I gulp. "With all do respect, sir, so am I."

[•]

We all sit around a round table, chugging down beers in an English pub. Soft piano plays in the background as the chatter erupts more.

"So, let's get this straight," Dum Dum begins, setting his glass on the table.

"We barely got outta there alive, and you want us to go back?" Gabe Jones asks.

All eyes are on me as we begin the topic of conversation I had with Colonel earlier. I know that Gen is going to be here soon, but it's been a little while now. Then again, she's from here, maybe wanted to get a quick glance at home. I just need some of her manipulation to help me here.

"Pretty much," I sigh, drumming my fingers on the table.

"Sounds rather....fun, actually," James Montgomery Falsworth smiles.

Jim Morita belches, clearly having too much to drink. "I'm in."

My eyes wander to Jacques Dernier, who speaks in French to me. I just nod and smile, not having the slightest idea of what he could possibly be saying. Jones speaks in the elegant language back, ending in Dernier chuckling and shaking his hand happily.

"We're in," Jones informs me, referring to himself and Dernier.

"And I'll always fight," Dum Dum smiles, the tips of his mustache touching his beer as he brings the glass to his lips. "But you gotta do one thing for me."

"And what's that?" I ask him.

In response, he slams his empty mug on the table, filling the room with a loud bang. "Open a tab."

I just smile, letting a chuckle rack through me. The entire table erupts into loud laughs. I obediently take up their empty mugs and set them on the bar for the bar tender to refill them.

"Where are they putting all this stuff?" he mutters, shaking his head as he goes to fill them back up to the rim.

I head into the next room over, where the piano is louder than ever. A man sits on the bench, filling the room with music and bountiful singing. I silently ignore the Captain America poster on the wall and the strip of tape saying "tour cancelled" across it, cutting around the corner to sit on the barstool next to Bucky.

"See? I told you," he boasts, sipping his drink. "They're all idiots."

"How about you?" I ask him. "You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?"

"Hell no," Bucky replies, shaking his head. "That little guy from Brooklyn was too dumb to run away from a fight. And I'm following him."

I smile at my old friend. I'm happy he's agreed to come along. I need my good old partner in crime for all this.

"But you're keeping the outfit, right?"

I roll my eyes at him.

"You know, it's kind of growing on me," I reply.

The entire bar goes dead silent — the drunken singing men, the music, the overall commotion, everything. Bucky and I both turn to see why, and the worst thoughts pop into my mind. Schmidt? Nazi? Someone, anyone bad? It turns out to be the complete and utter opposite. My eyes completely blur out the entire bar and Peggy by her side, and I just gawk at Gen.

Gen's brunette hair isn't in its usual all around poof of curliness. Each and every chunk is perfectly curled and bobs just above her shoulders. A red dress that has part of the chest area cut out gorgeously hugs her beautiful figure. A matching pair of red heels click under her feet as she strides gracefully towards the back where Bucky and I are, her red lips curled into a smile as her green eyes survey the bar.

I have to quickly turn away to avoid being even more of a blushing mess, which completely fails. Bucky immediately notices, playfully punching my shoulder.

"Cap's got a crush," he teases.

I stomp on his foot underneath the table to shut him up as the ladies approach. We both stand politely, both of our eyes scanning the women up and down. Mine remain on Gen, not looking away for even a second.

"Captain," she and Peggy say in unison.

"Doctor," I greet. After a moment of just gazing at each other, I realize my rudeness. "Agent Carter," I add, giving her a curt nod.

"Ma'am," Bucky nods to Peggy. "Doctor."

"Howard has some equipment for you to try," Peggy informs me quickly. "Tomorrow morning?"

"Sounds good," I mumble, trying to keep my eyes on the floor. Instead, they end up finding Gen's shoes, then travel up her legs, her waist, and eventually back to her piercing green orbs. I feel Bucky grinning at me, and Peggy seems to notice the blush crawling across Gen's cheeks.

"I see that those members of Captain America's cheer team are clearly prepping for the big game," Gen smiles.

"You don't like music?" I ask her out of the blue. I can barely control my words anymore, and they just start flowing out without my permission.

"I do, actually," she replies, raising an eyebrow at my randomness. "And after someone's little begging ritual" — she eyes Peggy — "I might even go dancing when this is all over."

"What are you waiting for?" Bucky asks her.

Peggy starts smiling proudly at Gen, who is adorning one of the usual smirks.

"The right partner," Gen states.

Peggy contains her excitement. "0800, Captain," she reminds me.

"Yes, ma'am," I smile as she drags Gen away. "I'll be there."

I quickly make eye contact with Gen before they exit. She points to Peggy and mouths, Her doing. I laugh, shaking my head.

"I'm invisible," Bucky trembles. "I-I'm turning into you. This is a horrible dream."

"Don't take it so hard," I smile, patting his shoulder. "There's always Peggy."

"That woman'll eat me alive."

I tilt my head to the side, trying to come up with any lie I could reassure him with, but there isn't one. "You're not wrong."

[•]

I step through the compound, glancing around for someone. I'm still kind of baffled by Gen from last night, causing me to blush every time that I think about her. She was so confident and adorable, even though it was Peggy who was making her pretty much read off a script. Either way, it made me smile.

My eyes find a familiar blonde from while I was here a little while ago, Private Lorraine, who reads off a newspaper with the headline, 400 Prisoners Liberated. Those four hundred would be the soldiers that I liberated at the Hydra base.

"Excuse me," I ask her softly. I hold my hand behind my back, peering around the shelf to see her. "I'm looking for Mr. Stark."

"He's in with Colonel Phillips," Lorraine replies. Her eyes don't even move away from the inked words on the newspaper, causing me to fight back a scoff as I nod in response. A little rude, if you ask me. She eventually does take a gander up at me, then back at the paper. Her eyes widen in shock as she does a double take. "Of course, you're welcome to wait."

I nod awkwardly, leaning against a table across from her with my hands crossed in front of me. I watch her fold her newspaper as she continues to stare up at me.

"I, uh, read about what you did," she says, holding up the paper for me to reread the headline.

"Oh, the— yeah." I point at it, nodding once more. "Well that's, you know, just doing what needed to be done."

"Sounded like more than that," she remarks. She tosses the newspaper on to the table, twirling her chair to face me. "You saved nearly four hundred men."

I smile.

Lorraine's sly eyes look me up and down, making me a little uncomfortable. I fight it though, trying to seem as normal as physically possible.

"Really, it's not a big deal," I say defensively, trying to politely find my way out of this situation. There's a look in her eyes that she wants to do more than just sit there, and I don't want to find out what.

She slowly stands up out of her chair, her heels clicking against the floor as she steps towards me. "Tell that to their wives."

I cross my arms, glancing up at the ceiling to avoid her eyes. "Uh, I don't think they were all married."

"You're a hero." She is only a few steps away from me now, and I can catch a strong smell of sweet perfume radiating from her, burning the insides of my nostrils. Please let someone walk in and save me.

"Well, that— you know, that depends on the definition, really." My stutters end up in my hand pushing back my hair, attempting to do anything but make eye contact.

Her painted red fingernails tighten around my tie, forcing me to look up into her dilated orbs. "The women of America, they owe you their thanks." She tugs on my tie, forcing me to stand up and follow her lead so that I'm not strangled. She begins to pull me behind her desk, meaning behind the shelf, concealing us away from everyone else in the compound. "And uh, seeing as they're not here...." She pulls me towards her, forcing our lips to collide. I can feel her red lipstick spreading from her lips on to mine. My shoulders hunch, trying to make myself seem as small I possibly can. My hands find their way to her arms, ready to push her off and get her fingers away my tie to unleash me.

The clicking of heels echoes from around the bookshelf. They're not tall heels, but more like the short ones found on combat boots. My stomach drops. I hear the footsteps cease and the sound of files filled with various papers clattering to the floor. A set of taller heels follows, and they don't seem too pleased.

"Captain!" Peggy barks.

Private Lorraine swiftly jerks away, letting go of my tie. I hurriedly wipe off the lipstick off my face. I don't bother to make eye contact with Peggy, whose hands are defiantly on her hips as she glances at me then down to Gen. I stare into Gen's beautiful green eyes that are behind an unfamiliar pair of glasses, but they aren't happy anymore. Even through the glare from the glass lenses, I can clearly see the pain that engulfs her orbs; however, there is a look that could kill — a deadly glare that is like a knife plunging into my heart, stopping it from pumping. Her usual sassy smirk conveys a completely different meaning this time. The corners of her pink lips are turned up into a forced smile, and she clicks her tongue in surprise. Her eyes quickly shift away and to the scattered papers and files on the floor.

"I should be getting these to Colonel's desk," she mutters, pushing up her glasses and gathering up the papers. The smile spreads even further across her lips, trying to conceal her pain, as well as a shaky breath that threatens to transform into a scoff. She glances back up at me and Lorraine, her eyes narrowing down at the both of us. "I don't know why you're just standing there. I'm leaving, so you can both continue what I just so happened to disrupt."

And before Peggy's eyes can even glance at her in concern, she is behind the shelf and stomping towards the other section of the compound with her boots clicking loudly behind her.

Peggy shoots a glare at me, and I'm surprised that I'm not dead yet. "We're ready for you, if you're not otherwise occupied."

I quickly sprint away from Lorraine, following Peggy around the shelf. She's going after Gen.

"Agent Carter, wait—" I begin, but she still has her hands on her hips and doesn't want to hear me talk.

"Looks like finding a partner wasn't that hard after all," she spits, not looking away from the hallway in front of her. "Unlike trying to get that stubborn woman to cooperate."

She's talking about Gen and what she had to say to me at the bar. The poor thing is probably heartbroken if she actually feels that way towards me.

"Peggy, that's not what you thought it was," I insist, stuffing my tie back down underneath my jacket.

"Well it sure looked like it to Genevieve," she growls. She's pissed. "And I didn't think anything, Captain. Not one thing. However, Edwards was pretty much educated to. You've always wanted to be a soldier and now you are, and you're just like all the rest."

"Well what about you and Stark?" I retort. "How am I supposed to know that you two haven't been....fonduing. You could be like them too, and so could Gen!"

Peggy whips around to face me. "You still don't know a bloody thing about women," she mutters, turning away to find Gen. "And now I have to clean up your mess before she leaves a dead man in her wake."

I sigh, huffing as she walks away. Great, so this is all my fault. If Lorraine hadn't been so selfish, this would've never happened. Then again, if I had pulled away like I was going to to begin with, it wouldn't have happened. But what I didn't want to happen happened, and there's nothing I can do about it now. I probably ruined my one chance at getting Gen to think only good things about me, and that's never going to go away.

A few moments later, Mr. Stark finds me and drags me into a room.

"Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend," Howard tells me as we step inside of his little lab.

I fight back a scoff. "Really? I didn't think—"

"Nor should you, pal. The moment you think something's going on in a woman's head, and especially Gen's, is the moment when your goose is good and truly cooked."

We stride around the lab, which is filled with all different gadgets and tools, all of which are scattered around scientists.

"Me, I concentrate on work, which at the moment is about making sure you and your men do not get killed," Howard says.

"Wait, what did you say about Genevieve?" I ask him.

He stops in front of a table without a scientist at it, staring me straight in the eyes. "You don't know?" he questions.

"Know what?"

Howard groans. "God, it really has to be me telling you this? Fine. Well, Gen is a bit of a shattered mirror. She might be the, uh.....female dog, if you know what I mean, she makes herself out to be or a little scared puppy and you'd never know. You never know what the hell is going on with her because of her past. She's so broken that you can't see the true picture. You know how she's even here with us?"

"No," I mumble.

Howard just closes his eyes for a moment, clenching his jaw. "Well, I guess that only me, Colonel, and Peggy know, so makes sense that you don't. Anyways, the reason she avoids certain streets and areas of this place — which I doubt you've ever noticed — is because of what happened to her family.

"Her mom and little sister died a few years back when Hitler decided to bomb London," he says. "Those were the only living relatives that she had left, and before you and Peggy came around, the only people she ever cared about. And they're gone. She has been kind of sociopathic ever since then as I've heard, flinching at even the word 'love.' She doesn't know what she'd do if she ever cared about anyone again because she thinks that something is just going to take them away. And I'm thinking that that just happened."

I clench my jaw, staring at the floor. Now I feel even guiltier. It's just fantastic to know that I've just broken her heart even more than it was to begin with.

Howard sighs, changing the subject. "Carbon polymer," he says, smoothing his hand across a blanket of, well, carbon polymer. "Should withstand your average German bayonet. Although, uh, Hydra's not gonna attack you with a pocket knife."

He continues down the line of things, gently setting his hand on my dented and dirty shield. "Right here, uh, you're kinda attached."

"It's handier than you might think," I retort.

"I took the liberty of coming up with some options," he says.

I scan the line of metals, all shining and bright.

"This one's fun," Howard says, pointing to another chunk of metal. I look down at the edge of a metallic circular disk. It shines brightly in the light. "She's been fitted with electrical relays that allow you—"

I take up the shield that was underneath the table, surveying it carefully. "What about this one?"

"No, no. That's just a prototype," he says.

"What's it made of?" I ask him, holding the amazing shield up. It's surprisingly light as I flip it around to see every angle.

"Vibranium," Howard replies. "It's stronger than steel and a third of the weight. It's completely vibration absorbent."

I slide my arm into the arch on the back, and it's relatively comfortable. It's not weighing down my arm or anything as I grip the edge and look down at Howard. "How come it's not your standard issue?"

"That's the rarest metal on Earth," Howard says. "What you're holding there, that's all we've got."

Two sets of heels, one high heels and the other boots, step towards us. I glance up at Peggy and Gen, both of whom are radiating rage. It seems to have died down for Gen, but only increased for Peggy. Gen's eyes are still a little sad, causing my spirits to fall.

"You quite finished, Mr. Stark?" Peggy asks.

"I'm sure the Captain has some unfinished business," Gen adds, shooting a quick glare at me. She doesn't have those glasses on anymore, giving me a good look at her angry green orbs.

I sigh, meeting her gaze. I try to lift her mood by holding up the shield to display it to her, to which she just crosses her arms across her white button up. "What do you think?" I ask her with a smile.

As a reply, she turns to face a table of various weapons and guns, scooping up a handgun, and shooting towards me with a straight face. I almost don't process her thoughts in time for her to shoot me. I swiftly pull my shield up over my head, blocking me from the bullets ricocheting off the shield and clattering to the floor. My heartbeat quickens, my heart pounding against my ribs as four shots ring out through the laboratory. I slowly move my shield down as they stop to meet her cold green gaze, but a satisfied grin is there instead. All of the scientists and Peggy draw back a few feet from her with wide eyes, and Howard is on the floor, leaning against a shelf with his arms slowly unmasking his face.

"Yes, I think it works," Gen remarks, setting the gun back down on the table.

No one dares to speak, but I do.

"You missed," I mumble.

Gen scoffs. "I aimed right where it shot at."

"You were supposed to hit my head."

Gen sighs, shaking her head at me. "I quite deserve to shoot you and not that shield, but as much as I long to punch you in your perfect nose I want to make sure that you can't have your brains blown out on the battlefield."

And with that, she turns on her heel, walking past me, and heads toward the door. Not even Peggy moves, and she just stares at Gen in awe.

"I was not expecting that," Peggy mumbles, a proud smile spreading across her red lips.

Howard and I just stand side by side, gazing at Gen with our jaws hanging open as she strides away. Never have I felt more in love with that psychologist that now, not even when she kicked Hodge in the crotch.

"I had some ideas about the uniform," I tell Howard, taking a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket and handing it to him, not looking away from Gen as the door closes behind her curved silhouette.

"Whatever you want, pal," Howard replies, taking the paper without taking his eyes off her either. I'm going to win that woman's trust again or so help me.