Chemical Poison

She left her family home earlier than normal. She caught the bus earlier than normal and she arrived earlier than normal. Not because she was a dedicated worker (of course more dedicated than Alexander on a good day), but to avoid the hundreds of stares she would receive from employees, the strangers on the bus and her neighbors.

With her office already packed up and Miss Cotton comfortably set up, Anneliese made home to one of the empty, and old meeting room that hadn't been used for months. The walls were made of glass windows, and everyone could see exactly what she was doing. There was no privacy at Stark Industrials. 

It had been weeks since her father joined the cause. Not that she was a massive fan of this fact. 

On Monday's she attended the usual Stark Industrial meetings, and then discuss with Harold Lockes about increasing the wages of those who were working on the machinery for the SSR. Of course, this discussion ended with Anneliese overseeing Howard and her fathers plans to begin the construction for the machinery the military required. From the serum injected, to jets and planes and so many more. The Americans always over demanded.

On Tuesdays, Alexander would spend half the day in her office as they both worked on the important paperwork that Howard was behind in, because all hands were needed to build everything on time. Especially Howards, no one seemed to match the steadiness in his fingers when he had a hammer and metal in his hand. The two would go to a cafe for lunch, a bagel for Anneliese and a toasted sandwich for Alexander and the two would discuss purposely loud about their family and relationship.

By Wednesday, Miss Cotton would be crying in her office, begging Anneliese to help her manage all the press calling them non-stop and storming the building. Every week, Anneliese had to help the new press securtary on how to handle not only the press but what the other employees say to them. Miss Cotton, of course was an excellent employee, but she worked so much better with Anneliese, and so did she. The two, though no friendship formed, were excellent at the job when they were both there.

And now, Miss Cotton was on her own. Of course she would come crying.

With the serum's secret, Abraham refused anyone to help him create it with him. So, on Thursday's Anneliese supervised him, informing him that regardless of the secrecy, Stark Industrials requires to know every step of the Serum. It was an undisclosed agreement between Mr Stark and the President. If Abraham wanted the security and equipment to create the serum, he had to allow someone to supervise him. 

Meetings followed by press conferences followed by arguing with Agent Carter about when Abraham should start looking into a subject was her Friday's. Agent Carter, or Peggy, thought they should start looking immediately, the American's already supporting the allies in the war.  Anneliese believed no one would willingly join a deadly experiment if America wasn't offically part of the war.

And to deal with all the stress, Howard would take her to a new exclusive restaurant for dinner, where they would arrive together and leave together. The press seemed to pick up on the pattern the two curated, and slowly they turned from 'Lovers working together', to 'Stark's power couple'. It was a cliche, however Anneliese knew this may ruin her reputation - her cover from her family in Germany. But as a former press secretary, she knew that Miss Cotton should milk this new phrase. Because any any press (specifically good press) is what Stark Industrials needed.

This pattern was the same, all the way though their birthdays, and past November until it all changed.

It was a Sunday and Anneliese was calmly walking to her office when Miss Young came rushing down the corridor towards her. Staring at her horrified, Miss Young was breathing roughly, the words unable to pass her mouth, but it was enough for Anneliese to follow her quickly towards the office.

Miss Young pointed at the phone, barely whispering, 'The president is on the phone, and no one knows where Mr Stark and Mr Grey is.'

Her eyes were wide. Why was the president calling at noon on a Sunday?

Walking to her seat, she picked up the phone. The news she never expected to hear.

'Hello, is this Mr Stark?'

The rough voice from the other side of the phone call was enough for her to know she was speaking to the president. 'No Sir,' she replied, trying her best to cover her German accent, which always seems to slip when she is nervous. 'You're speaking to Miss Anneliese Lorenz, head of the SSR operations.'

A crack in the phone line made Anneliese jump, Miss Youngs eyes widen in fright. Quickly deciding that it would be best for Miss Young to find Howard or Alexander, she shook her hand for her to leave. Only one job on her mind. 

The coughing from the phone alerted Anneliese. 'Ah, Miss Lorenz, how nice to finally speak to you. But unfortunately I need to speak to Mr Stark... its a level of national security.'

Her eyes were already wide enough, but her lips started to tremble, almost gaping. 'I have to apologise sir, but Mr Stark and Mr Grey are currently out of office, since it is a Sunday.'

More coughing came from the other phone. 'Ah buggar,' The president said, 'Well, I've sent the Colonel to Stark Industrials immediently. We need to complete Project Rebirth sooner than later-'

Not caring for etiquette, Anneliese interrupted the President. 'Sir, I mean no disrespect, but the schedule is already tight enough!"

Her voice grew louder and Anneliese was furiously digging for her calendar in her desk draw, pulling it out. She was correct, there was no way they would be able to complete the project any quicker, considering they just did not have the funding or staff to work on it any more.

'For Stark Industrials to be any quicker we will require more support, as we are still a business and can't afford to take anymore employees from other departments to meet your demands.'

Her statement shattered the atmosphere, the line growing quiet.

'Ma'am, we're at war.'

At war. America was officially at war. No longer men and woman volunteering to help their allies, America was officially at war. Completely, officially and utterly at the mercy of all that entails a war.

The room seemed to grow darker as Anneliese managed to whisper a reply, 'Sir?'

In the corner of her eyes, she watched Howard and Alexander run towards the office. The door slamming open as they entered, both men heaving as they stared at her confused, nearly frighten.

'There will be no America if we do not finish the serum by at least 1942.'

Both men were staring her down, and Anneliese said one final thing before hanging up on the president. Her voice was sharp as she spoke. She needed to be strong, even if the thought of Hydra becoming an official enemy to the state. So utterly frightening, Anneliese no longer wanted to help or support America. She wanted to run, as far as she could.

Anything to avoid a war she watched be build from the ashes in Germany. The same war that corrupted the minds of her family, and the same war that would end all that was good. Anneliese knew this was darkness sinking, its teeth clutching onto anything that produced the faintest speckle of light. 

It was nights reincarnation, to support a war blindly in the dark. Unsure when the nightmares will haunt her next. 

It was essential for her to speak so sharply, so important she made herself a beacon of fire - something she could control. She had dug far too deeply, her dangerous game biting back. Even, if it came at the cost of offending the president.

'We will meet with the Colonel, but if the American Government cannot supply the funding we need, then Project Rebirth will continue on track for 1943. Regardless if we are at war or not, thousands of men and women will not go without jobs whilst our funds run dry from the over demands of a government that clearly wants actions without any input. I bid you a good afternoon.'

Staring at Howard and Alexander, their eyes brow both frowned.

'We're at war?', Howard whispered.

Anneliese nodded, 'At least that is what the President said.'

The silence filled the room again.

'You were on the phone to the president?', Alexander asked, a small smirk appearing on his face. 'And you spoke to him like that?'

Forcing her lips to quirk into a smile, finding the irony in a German informing the president of their unwillingness to help without support. Even if she had to bypass her rationality and sensibility, Anneliese knew it was essential she spoke almost condescendingly to him. 

By Monday morning, everyone knew about the bombing at Pearl Harbour, and that America had declared war on Japan. The following days, Germany and Italy and all the other 'oppositions' had became America's enemy, and finally... America was in the war.

Anneliese was in and out of meetings all day long, dealing with phone calls from the American Military and the SSR whilst slowly getting through all the paper work on her desk from Alexander. It was insane, she was working longer hours, and weekends became something of the past. There was so much to do, with so little time.

1942 was over, with Christmas and New Year celebrations long gone. And all Howard, Anneliese and Alexander did was work, and work, and work. From a small trio that got along at work, formed a friendship that extended out of their workplace.

Howard and Anneliese continued their fake dating, whilst Alexander played the dutiable role of being Anneliese's and Howard's best friend on all their dates. It was clockwork, and everything followed a perfectly curated plan by Howard, it was necessary as the American government refused to provide extra funds, and Stark Industrials was losing money with every second they support the war cause.

Howard decided that 1943 would be the year that Stark Industrial blew up. Any free second, Alexander was speaking to the press about the latest telephone they had created, and Howard was dragging Anneliese to social events to speak about the charity they were funding, or the future of technology. None of them ever missed a beat, never a hair out of place or a word mis-said. It was all cold calculating power that all three played very well.

So when Alexander walked Anneliese from the train station, a coffee in hand as always, the press swooned. Even if he wore expensive European suits and Anneliese in a simplistic dress worth more than what most men earned a month, the two seemed humbled by there use of public transport and 'friendly nature'. Of course, it was true, but they used this as a ploy to further the name of Stark Industrials.

Any press was good press.

That was the motto Howard lived by.

When she entered Stark Industrials, the security team did not interrogate Anneliese as they once did, instead they made room for her. Alexander following casually behind, his lips curling to the side at the sight. Anneliese's chin up and her eyes dangerously searching the crowd for potential hidden cameras for the press.

Looking over her shoulder, Anneliese's face had never been covered in so much make-up, her hair perfectly curled and her lashes thicker than ever. Whilst Howard took on the persona of being humbly cruel, Alexander handsomely wealthy, so, Anneliese played her part of the seductress. It wasn't hard to play, truly, she just had to bat her eyes a few too many times, her dresses and skirts slightly above the knees and her lips painted her usual red.

Men and the press were just as predictable as the American Government. Give them a taste of what they want, and take it away from them. So, by lunchtime, Howard had acquired a large sum of money from the government, if anything, it was what they owed them. By three in the afternoon, Alexander would announce to the press about Stark Industrials funding the World Expo next year. And by the evening Anneliese was arguing with the president's secretary about the importance of consistent funding.

They were, in retrospect, a perfect team.

But like all teams, they were doomed from the very start.