shield
“I give up. This is bullshit.” You say (maybe a little bit too loudly) on your way from the kitchen to the couch- which you nearly break by throwing your entire body weight onto way too dramatically.
“It’s 1986 for god’s sake, how can they not see that it doesn’t matter if I’m a woman? I have the same degrees, I have the same knowledge, and the same experiences. It’s been six months and all of the guys from my class already have great jobs but none of the girls have had anything substantial. All I have is four rejection calls under my belt. I can’t take another.” Looking up at the wall towards your newly-framed diplomas for your Bachelor’s in Chemical Engineering and Bachelor’s in Mechanical Engineering, you can’t help but start to sniffle and bury your face in the cushions. You’d worked your ass off for the last five years to get those degrees. Even managed to get into some college classes as soon as you turned 18 your senior year to get ahead and packed your schedule in college to the point where you had virtually no free time, because you loved every single thing you learned. You want to do something meaningful, something important. Science is changing every single day, and so is the future of technology now that Howard Stark’s brilliant ideas are becoming so mainstream. Sitting back and watching the world advance without you is like a knife right to the heart.
“Louise, stop sulking, you just have to give it some time. Everything will work out how it is supposed to, take a breath.” Your roommate, Hannah, had come out of the bathroom with her hair still soaking wet, and poked your shoulder until you lifted your head so she could sit for you to place it in her lap. She always knew that the best (who were you kidding, only) way to calm you down was to play with your hair until you were able to focus on anything else than what you were stressing about that day.
Both of you stay like that, humming along to the radio for about an hour until the phone rings, bringing you out of your peaceful retreat. You look up at Hannah, giving her your best “please do not make me get up off this couch unless it is a life-or-death situation, or unless you have ice cream” eyes, to which she sighs and makes her way across the living room, into the kitchen, around the wall, and fatefully picking up the screaming landline.
“Lou, it’s for you,” she says a few moments later while popping her head out from the corner.
You huff and moan before finally pulling yourself off the blue denim couch and crossing over to her, giving her a miserable look the entire way there. You take a beat to compose yourself before picking up the line, preparing for the second glorious crushing of all your dreams in one day.
Putting on the friendliest voice you could muster, you grab the phone and take a deep breath.
“Hello, Louise speaking!”
“Hi, Louise Anderson?”
British?
“Yes ma’am, this is her.”
“Wonderful. Louise, this is Peggy Carter of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. I have been given your resume and am interested in bringing you on as an engineer for a new project we are working on. Would you be able to come in for an interview tomorrow at two pm?”
Are you actually seeing spots? Maybe you’re just dreaming? No, most definitely seeing spots and losing your balance. Real life. Breathe. Breathe. This is it. Are you just going to stand here and think to yourself? Answer the nice British lady, don’t just leave her here in silence, come on. Breathe.
“Really? Um, absolutely! I’ll be there!”
The next few minutes are a complete blur, not only because this lady’s voice is mesmerizing, but because this is a serious job offer. Thank god for Hannah being able to simultaneously hold you up while working out with Ms. Carter where the office is and what exactly the job would be. From what you can make out through the ringing in your ears, it seems like this place is a government agency and you wouldn’t know what exactly your work would be until you were hired and briefed on security protocols. High-profile. Top-secret. Meaningful. Important. A dream come true. You’ll be there.
You didn’t sleep. How could you have? In less than four hours you had an interview that could change everything. Jitters, from the four cups of coffee you’d drank? No, probably just the nerves. Shit. Clothes. What the hell are you going to wear? Blazer, right? Right. Do you make a statement or keep it subtle? Blue is nice, let’s go with blue. Brighter than navy, but nothing crazy, just enough for a lasting impression. Loose white blouse tucked into a black, knee-length pencil skirt, white flats to match. Light brown hair tied into a low, loose bun secured with your favorite pin with a pearl on the end that was passed on to you from your grandma. She wore it on her wedding day, so did your mother, but you wore it whenever you took an exam. Whenever you didn’t, you got less than an A. Essential. A light layer of mascara, blush, and your signature mauve lipstick later, you’re out the door.
After a brief moment of panic in the car, you successfully manage to walk inside the towering, gray complex with “S.H.I.E.L.D.” emblazoned above the entry doors, though your legs still felt like complete jelly. Twenty minutes early, the kind girl at the front desk with jet black, perfectly curled hair gives you a smile while looking over her cherry-red glasses and motions you over to the waiting area that happens to have the most comfortable chairs you’ve ever sat in.
Five minutes later, the girl in the red glasses approaches you, saying “Director Carter is ready for you, I’ll take you up!” Director Carter. The kindest smile is still across her face as you follow her across the huge lobby and into the elevator, where she presses the button for the top level of the tower. Holy shit.
A short ride and a few hallways later you are standing outside two large double doors with the nameplate “PEGGY CARTER, Director” to the left. The girl gives you another sweet smile while giving your shoulder a squeeze, mouthing “good luck” before making her way back down the hall. You knock.
Seconds pass until you hear the click of heels approaching the door, a pause, and then the right door is swung open. You manage to close your jaw after taking in the woman in front of you, dressed in nearly the exact thing you are wearing, with the white flats traded with red heels and mauve lipstick traded for a perfect red there too. Shoulder-length brunette hair framed her face with waves that looked like they were straight out of the 1950s- wait.
Is this?
No way.
You knew the name sounded familiar, Jesus, how did you not place it before? You had seen her on the screens when you were little and dragged to the museums by your older brother, dragged into the Captain America exhibits. You weren’t one for history, so you never read anything, just briefly watched the videos. That’s how you knew the name. She was that Peggy Carter- hair and red lipstick to prove it.
“Louise? Welcome.” The perky British voice you now recognize from the museum videos brought you quickly out of your thoughts. You took the outstretched hand that was offered to you and returned a firm handshake before being led into the large office. Brilliant was an understatement. The floor-to-ceiling windows made the room glow, and the view of the surrounding city was breathtaking. She led you to the desk and motioned for you to have a seat before offering something to drink. Intimidating, commanding, but kind.
Ten minutes into the meeting, you had completely relaxed and fell easily into conversation. Then it hit you, you never applied to SHIELD, how did she even get your resume?
When a break opens in the chat, you muster the courage to ask; “Director, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get my resume? I don’t remember submitting anything to a ‘SHIELD’ in this last round of applications?”
You couldn’t quite read the thoughts running through her mind, although you should have expected that from the secrecy this company seemed to have.
With a smirk on her lips, she offers; “Well, a dear friend of mine is heavily invested in the engineering and science programs at the university you attended. He always asks the professors there about potential mentees he may be able to take under his wing. A professor of yours had mentioned you over dinner with him and even gave him a copy of your final paper and resume as you had asked him to be a reference. Told him that you were one to watch, had a twinkle in your eye that was refreshing and promising. Stark handed me those papers and when I realized this was a young woman he had been going on about, I had to take the chance to bring you onto our team. As the first female Director of this organization, I want more powerful women I can trust behind-the-scenes as well, and even from this short conversation so far, I can see you have insurmountable potential, and I would adore having you as a powerful asset on my team.”
Did you just imagine that? Did she just say Stark? Did all of the color just drain from your face? Probably. Are you going to pass out? Probably. Are you going to take this opportunity and never look back? Absolutely.
“I’m sorry, Director, did you just say Stark?”
“Yes Louise, I did.” Another smirk crosses her face as she confirms.
A pause.
“When would you like me to start?”