Chapter 2
Fort Falsworth is a SHIELD base a few miles outside of Saratoga Springs. Most of the tests Leila went through after her academy training took place there, but she hasn’t been back since. Maybe she should feel something--some nostalgia, or deja vu--but mostly she just wants to get the day over with.
Getting inside seems to take almost as long as the three hour long ride from Manhattan, although it probably only takes about twenty minutes. It includes ID, a retinal scan, and a few code phrases.
Finally, the last set of doors open and a SHIELD analyst leads her to an elevator that takes them to an underground floor.
A wall of glass windows reveals a lab full of more SHIELD techs running around in white lab coats. “You can just head in,” the woman who led her there says, and Leila steps out of the elevator.
It takes her a second to place the doors—everything is glass, perfectly clear, smooth, and indistinguishable. She’d be shocked to see a smudge anywhere. As soon as she walks in, Doctor Shirazi is there in front of her, looking at a clipboard as he speaks.
“Agent Whittaker, glad to have you here,” he says absently, like he’s reading from a mental script.
“Oh, not nearly as glad as I am to be here, I’m sure.”
“We need to debrief you on your current powers before you go in with Rogers.” He sets a hand on her shoulder to guide her through a white side door. She shrugs his hand off, irritated, but follows his lead anyway.
As she’s whisked away, she glances around one last time and sees Steve behind another glass door, sitting on a table looking utterly bored; Leila imagines he must be regretting his decision by now.
He glances in her direction and double takes as he recognizes a familiar face before smiling in a resigned, sympathetic way.
She smiles back, just a little.
It’s weird to have someone other than Lachlan doing her debriefing. Lachlan got a promotion shortly after hers to STRIKE, so he’s done every debriefing up ‘til now. The new analyst is all business, and the meeting takes only a few minutes before she’s led to a doctor’s office for a physical.
It takes longer than usual; in addition to the power check, they need a “before” set of vitals and stats to compare to the “after” for when she copies Rogers’ powers. If all goes well, she’s about to become the second super soldier in history. Probably temporarily, but still--documentation is vital.
Once they have what they need, she’s left alone to change into a black sports bra so they can hook a bunch of sensors to her. It’s annoying, but she supposes she should be grateful that SHIELD has wireless ones, that she’s not going to have to drag a computer with her everywhere. When they’re done, she’s left alone for a moment, and puts her shirt back on before hopping back onto the medical table, kicking her feet boredly.
Finally, Shirazi comes back in. “Fury wants to talk to you before you go back out there.”
What the hell does he want now? she thinks.
She doesn’t have to wait long; Fury enters less than a minute later.
“Director,” she says.
“Agent.” He steps forward, hands clasped behind his back. “Good of you to join us.”
“I’m a very charitable person.” She leans back on her palms. “So what’s the story, Morning Glory?”
“I told you I wanted you to copy Captain Rogers’ powers and test them out.”
“I know, I was there.”
“Yeah, I remember. Here’s what I didn’t tell you: Rogers is on the fence about joining SHIELD. I want you to fix that.”
“Sure, I’d love to talk him out of joining SHIELD.”
“Try again.”
“Sure, I’d love to talk him into joining SHIELD.”
“That’s better.”
“Why am I being, uh, honored by this mission?” Leila asks just as Fury starts to leave. “I thought I was prickly.”
Fury stops with his hand on the door, turns, and looks at her, and he’s doing that almost smile thing he does sometimes. “When,” he asks, “are you going to let that go?”
He leaves without answering her question.
Leila is still thinking this over as she heads back into the lab with Shirazi. It’s not that she has qualms about being manipulative, but Rogers has not, as of yet, struck her as someone easily manipulated. He’s also coming from a place of already distrusting SHIELD, after the Phase 2 debacle; she’d be surprised if he’s forgiven them already.
So what’s her angle?
Rogers is a good guy. And she’s pretty sure SHIELD are the good guys, or as close to the good guys as any large entity ever is, primarily by the fact that she had to be coerced into working for them. If she’d gone in willingly--well, it wouldn’t have been a positive statement on SHIELD.
She sighs, hitting the button on the elevator.
Rogers wants to do the right thing. If she can convince him that SHIELD will help him do that, he’ll join.
Which means she needs to give him examples of SHIELD’s do-gooding. But it’s not like she can just make him a powerpoint presentation. And she can’t go around trying to slip it into casual conversation unless she’s very careful about it; he’ll catch it, he’ll feel manipulated, and that’s one more wall she’ll have to tear down.
She could do that thing where she drops a single piece of information about a case, then refuses to go into further detail until he pushes her for it. But the problem is that he knows about her indifference to SHIELD protocol; he won’t buy her sudden desire to hide intelligence from the most trustworthy man in America. Again, it comes back to not letting him see what she’s doing. Manipulating without being perceived as manipulative.
Honestly, maybe the powerpoint thing isn’t such a bad idea. At least it’s straight-forward, which he might respect.
She sighs as the elevator doors slide open, and sets it all aside. She doesn’t have time to strategize; for now, all she can do is play it by ear.
When Leila reenters the lab, Rogers is still sitting on the medical table, still looking bored, but shirtless this time, with the same kind of sensors stuck on his chest that she does.
By all historical record, the first thing Peggy Carter did upon Steve Rogers’ exit from the metal tube they put him in to administer the serum was to reach out and touch his chest. Given that context, Leila can’t muster up a lot of guilt for letting her eyes glance over him briefly as she enters the room.
Still, she tries to be subtle about it, if only for Steve’s sake, and when she steps closer to him, she gives him a heads up.
“Don’t make it weird,” she instructs him, “but it works better if I touch your chest, with direct skin to skin contact.”
“I thought it was the heart or the head,” he says.
“That’s just what I say when I can’t reach the heart,” she replies. “Head is just a runner-up.”
With that, she rests her palms on his chest and reaches out. There’s the little jolt she feels when she connects, sort of like the way a plug can spark if you aren’t fast enough in plugging it in, and then the synesthesia sets in. She sees colors, feels them, and intuitively, she knows which one she’s looking for--this one a deep ocean blue. She sifts through a rainbow of DNA until she finds what she’s looking for and takes it for herself.
Then she opens her eyes and sees white as the colors disappear before the world comes back into focus.
“That was quick,” Steve says as she lets her hands drop to her sides.
Copying someone’s powers always feels like it takes a few minutes, but most of the time it only takes about a second.
“I mean, if you want me to spend longer touching your chest, all you have to do is ask.” She smirks, and he does that wry half-smile she’s come to associate with him. He shakes his head, but she can see him blushing just slightly.
“I’ll keep you posted on that,” he deadpans.
“Please do,” she replies.
“No visible changes,” Shirazi says, still looking at his clipboard, and she finds herself irritated at him for interrupting their conversation. Rapport is important in recruitment. “Interesting.”
“How do you feel?” Steve asks.
“Not that different,” she admits. “But I wasn’t a huge nerd pre-super-soldier-ism, so.”
He rolls his eyes. “Maybe not on the outside.”
She blinks in surprise, and then grins slowly. “Ouch,” she says. “Okay, point one: Cap.”
With that, Doctor Shizari takes her arm and gently leads her away. “We need another physical,” he says as she shrugs him off again.
When she glances back at Steve, he’s still smiling a little.
None of her vitals are drastically different. Her heart rate has raised just a bit--Shirazi says it’s likely to be to accomodate a higher metabolism--and her muscles feel more loose somehow, like she’s just run a marathon. The flexibility of a post-workout high without the exhaustion. Nice. Her vision has gone from 20/20 to 20/10, although the difference seems negligible in the stark white office. Otherwise, she feels pretty normal.
Once the physical is over, it’s time for the super-soldier olympics.
“Keep up, old man!”
Before copying the serum, Leila was already in above-average physical shape; her job is a physical one, and it’s in her own best interest to stay at the top of her game.
The top of her game has just gotten higher, much higher. Frankly, she didn’t expect much of an experience; most of the abilities she uses regularly are just bits and pieces of the serum, anyway. Enhanced agility, enhanced flexibility, enhanced strength.
At least, she thought they were enhanced. They’re child’s play to what she’s feeling now. She’s stronger than she’s ever been, more gymnastic, and so much faster, it almost feels like she’s flying, like she’s wearing the talaria that Hermes used to get around in Orphic Hymns.
And her senses are heightened. Not just her vision, although the change there is more noticeable now, too. She’s acutely aware of everything--the sun beating down on her out on Fort Falsworth’s track, the strange mechanical smell that permeates everything about the place, and every rock that finds its way under her shoes.
It’s supposed to be temporary, but she never wants to give it up.
This is their third competition. Steve’s won both of them so far, which is annoying, but she’s too ecstatic at this new power to care. Sure, she’s sweaty and gross and would never run in the sun of her own accord, but it’s a fair trade-off for the moment.
Steve wins the race, but only narrowly this time, and they collapse onto the grass beside the track.
“Good game,” he says, holding out a hand, like it’s an instinct, and she smiles and takes it.
“Someday I’m gonna kick your ass,” she says by way of response, and he laughs.
“Too bad you didn’t. Would’ve made for a good story.”
“Who do you tell stories to, Rogers?”
“It’s--” he looks away, staring into the distance, thoughtfully. “There’s this barbeque next week. It’s for Howling Commandos and family. Apparently they do it every year. My invitation came in the mail two days ago.”
She nods. She’s heard of this, vaguely, from an old classmate.
“Are you gonna go?”
“I mean, I guess I should, right?”
“Yeah, obviously. But that’s not what I asked.”
The question isn’t if he should go, but it’s not really if he will go, either. The question is if he wants to. One would imagine he’d jump at the chance to see his old friends again, but apparently he has mixed-to-negative feelings about it. He’s reclusive. Introverted. Relatable, but it does make her job harder.
“Take me with you,” she says impulsively.
He looks over at her, and she’s almost surprised to see a flicker of...interest? Hope? In his eyes. “You?”
“Yeah. You can lie and pretend we’re…”
“Dating?”
“I was gonna say friends,” she smirks, and he grins.
“Walked into that one,” he mutters. “Why the sudden interest?” Despite his lighthearted tone, she knows he’s a little suspicious.
Luckily, she doesn’t have to lie.
“I’ve always wanted to meet Galina Kovaleva.”