"Agent Jansen," I hear behind me. The tone wasn't a question, or an order to turn around. It was more of an acknowledgement that I was there and that someone needed to talk to me. I set down my paper coffee cup, slowly turning in my chair. I'm met with Director Nick Fury's steady gaze from the doorway.

"Mornin Nick," I say coolly. His mouth quirks up a fraction in the corner as he comes into the room and shuts the door behind him. I was one of very, very few people that actually called him by his first name. It was an earned privilege though. "I assume you have a job for me?"

He takes a deep breath, stopping a few feet in front of me. "Yes," he says after a few moments. "It's not a…typical…job though."

"Um," I say, quirking up an eyebrow at him. "When do you ever give me a 'typical' job?"

"I'm sure you've heard about our…incident…over the past couple of weeks," he says, ignoring my sarcasm.

I knew immediately what he was talking about…everyone was talking about it. "Of course," I say, nodding my head. I already had a feeling where this was going, but I kept quiet.

"I would like for you to help it out," Nick says, getting straight to business. "Ease the transition a bit."

"Sir…I-"

"Yes, I am using your connection as the reason for this assignment," he says, cutting me off. "You're the only one I trust with this. I know you are the best person for the job."

I let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. "Fine," I finally say. "I'll accept."

"Good. Er- um, thank you," Nick says. "He's in-"

"Yeah, I know where he is," I say, standing up. "Everyone does."

"Just go easy on him," Nick says, almost a plea in his voice.

I turn my head back towards Nick before walking out the door. "No promises," I say with a grin. "But do please have a car waiting for us out front."

After showing my badge to the two armed men at the door, they open it wide enough for me to enter the room. I immediately spot him, taking up a large portion of a stiff looking couch in the middle of the room. He looks up at me slowly at first, then immediately stands up, like he had been shocked.

I give him a tiny smile. "Alright soldier, let's go," I say, waving him towards the door.

"M-ma'am?" he says, not quite sure what to make of the situation.

"Let's go," I repeat, waving towards the door again.

"Go where?" He takes a couple steps towards me. I watch the fluid movement of his steps, his muscles rippling over his body in the khaki pants and chambray shirt he was wearing.

"Out," I say, over-simplifying the situation. "This is your prison break."

"My- my what?" I could tell I was thoroughly confusing the man.

I let out a sigh. "Okay, let's try it this way," I say. I pull myself up to my whole five-foot-five inch height, squaring my shoulders up towards him. "Follow me now, that's an order." At the phrase, he seemed to snap to attention, crossing the length of the room in just a couple of strides. He follows me out of the room, glancing back at the guards as we do so. I feel his presence to my right as we walk through the main lobby of S.H.E.I.L.D., looking every which-way like I really was breaking him out of prison.

"Excuse me, ma'am…but-"

"Not now," I say, cutting him off. He lets out a frustrated huff of air, but continues to follow me. Outside in the New York air, I throw a fleeting smile up at the sky, taking in the sunshine. Just like I had asked Nick, I spot the shiny black car waiting for us. "There's our get-away car."

He follows my lead and slides into the back seat of the car after me. "Okay…" he says as the car starts down the street. "Is it safe to talk now?"

"Oh, it's always been safe to talk," I say after telling the driver the address of our destination. I look over at the man sitting next to me, giving me a very confused puppy dog face. "It's just easier to get out of that building without someone stopping you for something if you walk with purpose and like you have to be somewhere stat."

"…Okay…" he says, eyeing me up and down. I could tell he was trying to decide what to make of me. "And you are?"

"Oh! Yeah, sorry about that," I say, shaking my head. "Forgot my manners in all the theatrics. Special Agent Rhiannon Jansen." I extended my hand out to him.

His gaze towards me eases up a bit. He takes my hand in his, giving it a hard, strong shake. "Steve Rogers, ma'am," he says, his voice dropping a couple of octaves.

"Hmm," I say, pulling my hand back. "'Ma'am'…"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Steve says. "Is that not used now…?"

"It is," I say, nodding my head. I settle back in my seat more, getting comfortable. "Very, very rarely though. Most women find it an insult."

"Do you find it an insult?" he asks.

"I find it an insult if you don't call me that," I say. I had always been called 'old-fashioned' by my peers. But it was the way I was raised…which is one of the main reasons I was sitting in the position I was at the moment.

"So Agen-"

"Oh, please, call me Rhiannon though," I say, cutting him off.

"Okay…Rhiannon…so where are we going?" he asks me, some nervous jitters in his voice.

"You'll see," I say simply.

A few seconds of silence pass before Steve speaks up again. "Are you going to tell me anything…besides your name?"

"Not yet," I say. I glance over at him and see a frustrated stare started to settle on his brow. "Look," I say, capturing his attention. "I will explain everything, just have a little patience. You can trust me…okay?"

"I can?" he says, arching an eyebrow at me.

"Well, I trust me," I say, shrugging my shoulders. "Lots of people trust me. I have a very trusting face. Plus the whole 'never-letting-people-down' thing that goes along with trust." He stares at me for a second before reciprocating the smile I was giving him.

As we sit in the silence of the car, I look over at Steve who was now staring out the window, taking in the sights. I shut my eyes and let the silence envelope me. A second later, my mind is filled with the familiar chatter of people's thoughts around me. Don't worry, this is totally normal for me. I reign in the thoughts, focusing on ones nearest me. I hear the driver, trying to decide if hitting on me would be a good idea, and the driver of the car behind us, cursing us for driving at a speed she didn't approve of…but no one else. I snap my eyes open and look at the super soldier sitting next to me. I could practically see the million thoughts running through his mind on his face, but could not hear a single one. Well…I guess my suspicions were right, I think with a little frustration. I shut the other thoughts out and follow Steve's lead, looking out the window.

A couple minutes later, the driver pulls over at our destination. "Alright, I'm about to make your day." I say, wagging my eyebrows at Steve. I follow him out of the car, staring up at the outside façade of the diner. "Best burgers in New York," I say, leading him to the front door. "I have it on good authority."

A few minutes later, after our food and drink orders are placed, me and Steve place ourselves in the very back booth of the diner. "Okay, now will you explain what's going on?" Steve says.

"Yes, now I will explain," I say, giving him a smile. I reach into my bag and pull out a file, setting it down in front of me. "I have been given a assignment and I like to think over and discuss my assignments over food."

"And what is your assignment?" he asks, a sudden purpose in his voice.

I pause for a moment as the waitress sets our drinks down in front of us. Once she's walked away, I continue. "Well, to put it simply, you are my mission," I say. Steve looks at me, not following me. "Nick- I mean Director Fury has assigned me to be a sort of guide for you. Help you transition into this time. After the whole fake hospital fiasco, he thought this might be better. By the way, I told him that was a bad idea."

"Yeah…that was…" he looks down at his soda for a second before shaking his head. "Anyways, why you?" he looks back up at me, eyebrows knitted together.

I was taken aback by his question. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I just thought if you were a Special Agent…wouldn't they have you on higher priority missions?"

I let out a half-hearted laugh. "You're pretty high priority honey," I say. "Besides, Fury trusted me, and only me, with this. See…that whole trust thing I was telling you about."

"Why?" he asks, still staring at me with a hard look. He was reading something on my face…and I had a good idea what it was.

"I kind of look like her…don't I?" I say, my voice softening a bit. Finally, Steve's stare on me breaks. He gives me a question look as I reach into my bag and pull something out. "Like a lot of children, I grew up on stories about you." I look up at him again, holding the object in my hand. "But…I heard much, much different stories."

I finally lift the old photo up, holding it across the table towards him. The edges were very tattered and it had browned even more with age. The subject in the photo though, was still recognizable. "Where…where did you get this?" he asks me quietly. I watch his icy blue eyes as the stare at the younger, scrawnier version of themselves in the photo.

"Only one in existence," I say. I set the picture down between us, letting it lay there. "My Aunt gave it to me," I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the next bit of information. "You knew her though as Agent Carter."

Time seems to stop in our little corner of the diner. Steve freezes and then slowly turns his eyes up towards me. After an immeasurable amount of time, he finally speaks. "Peggy was your Aunt?"