An Introduction

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The first time he met Steve Rogers, Gilmore Hodge thought somebody was playing a joke on him.

"Hey, who let their kid brother loose in here?" he hollered over the general mayhem of the recruits settling in. "Better run home to mama, boy; this is where the real men are."

Somebody laughed, and then the skinny young man turned around. His face wasn't nearly as youthful as Hodge had expected, and for a moment he was off-balance.

"Steve Rogers," the kid said, extending a hand.

Hodge ignored it. "Say Rogers, don't you know it's illegal to lie on your enlistment form? Your daddy's probably wondering why you're not at school."

Rogers defensively flushed a little, slowly lowering his hand. Visibly regathering himself, he tried again. "What's your name?"

Oh look, he was trying to be friendly. How sweet.

Hodge turned back to the other fellows without bothering to answer, making sure his foot hit the kid's duffle as he went. He caught it with enough force that it spun across the floor. "Whoops," he called back lightly, and snickered.

That was the beginning.

It was all too easy to pick on Rogers. The kid practically asked for it every time he opened his mouth. He was far too serious, and his skinny build and obvious difficulty completing the training just made it all the funnier.

Besides, he was more than ready to stand up in behalf of anybody he felt was being "bullied," even if they were bigger than he was. Really, it was laughable.

He was a scrappy little guy though, never willing to back down, which was always great fun. Rogers was exactly the right size to stuff into a garbage can or lock into a closet, though he never made it easy. He generally managed to get back into formation in time, but more than once Phillips had called him out on the untidiness of his uniform.

"Potato peels are not part of the regulation army wear, Rogers!"

Rogers would set his chin and brush the garbage from his collar, and Hodge and his buddies would snicker between themselves.

Agent Carter was around quite a bit with her everlasting clipboard, and Hodge could feel her eyes on him during training. Puffing out his chest, he worked harder than ever. They didn't have much time until the subject would be chosen for the super soldier experiment, and he wanted to make the best impression possible.

"When I'm the super soldier," he told his pals at breakfast one morning, "we'll have a game of football with baby Rogers as the ball."

Eagan and Daly laughed uproariously. Hodge reached across the aisle to shove Rogers' face into his breakfast, but Rogers skillfully ducked, and Hodge ended up with half-cooked egg on his hand. Growling, he got to his feet, but Rogers didn't so much as blink, eyes steady as he set down his fork.

"What's your problem, Hodge?" he asked, voice carefully patient. "Rubbing my nose in it ain't gonna make me eat any faster."

"Might improve your looks, though," Hodge taunted, wiping his hand on the edge of the table. His fingers were still messy, so he reached for Rogers' hair. The skinny kid dodged again, slipping out of his seat, away from his ruined breakfast.

"You trying to start something?" he rumbled, and his blue eyes were very hard.

Heads began to turn as Hodge bunched up his fists. Rogers planted his feet, and the situation looked well on its way to escalating into a full on fight when Agent Carter suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

"Gentlemen," she said, stepping up. Hodge straightened, trying to hide his messy hand behind his back. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rogers standing at attention as well. Around them, the other soldiers studiously applied themselves to their breakfasts, trying to look uninterested.

The agent's eyes flickered back and forth between them.

"Is something wrong with your hand, Private?" she asked at last.

"No, ma'am." Hodge let his arm swing down by his side. She eyed his eggy fingers with a frown before looking over at the handprint in Rogers' plate.

"We run a civilized camp here, Private Hodge," she told him at last, tilting her chin in the air. Boy, she was a cutie. "I don't know how it was where you came from, but the United States Army prefers you use your silverware and your own plate when you eat."

Daly elbowed Eagan with a snigger, and Hodge fought a scowl. Rogers somehow managed to keep his face mostly straight, but the corner of his mouth curled up despite his best efforts.

"As you were," Agent Carter finally said, eying him severely up and down one more time. Hodge made sure to smile winningly at her, but it didn't seem to have much effect. Still, it gave him a real good opportunity to appreciate the way she looked as she turned and walked away.

Boy oh boy, but that dame sure was something. When they picked him to be the super soldier, the first thing he was going to do was show her all his best moves.

"Keep your eyes to yourself, Hodge," Rogers warned, reaching to clear his dishes and narrowly avoiding the foot Hodge stuck out to trip him.

Lousy runt. Hodge promptly changed his mind. After he became the super soldier, he'd kick that irritating little guy over the mess hall first. Then he'd take Peg Carter out on the town and give her a real good time.

He bet she'd be a swell dancer.

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I'm fascinated with Gilmore Hodge. He's the opposite to Steve in so many ways, but they have a lot in common too. They're both attracted to the same girl, they both start out with the same uniform, they're both from the same part of the same country and train at the same camp - and yet they're as different as any two people can be.

This will be about seven chapters long. I know some of you were hoping I'd post Cradle next, but don't be too disappointed. It's super, super close to being finished - check my profile for periodic updates. In the meantime, I thought I'd start putting this up.

Thanks! Have a good day!