It had been a harrowing few months trapped in the ice, before he was found and he never wanted to do anything like that ever again. So with Howardâs clout and his own influence, and Peggyâs plan, he was able to melt back into society as a private citizen. On paper he was Grant Stephen OâConnell, his motherâs maiden name. Stephen Grant Rogers was dead, according to all the paperwork and all intents and purposes. Captain America was lost at sea still with his best friend Howard Stark still looking for him, according to most papers.Â
Now he was living in an apartment across the street from Peggyâs boarding house, a lovely walking distance from work. Well, his new work. Stark had gotten him an in, and Peggy had worked whatever magic she normally did and got him assigned to her same unit. Now was the tricky part.Â
They had to play like they had never met before, like they never had once laid eyes on each other. To hell with the idea that they were almost engaged, it was talked about but he hadnât made it official, they were just coworkers. Today being his first day and their first real test. He wanted to pull the hat down low over his face and turn his collar up, shrinking into the wardrobe that Stark had bestowed upon him. Then he remembered that this was New York, no one paid attention. And that was a huge comfort for him. He was on his way to work just like all the other men fresh back from the front.Â
The receptionist pointed him in the direction and he caught sight of his future section chief and hailed him. âChief,â he called and jogged over to him. âAgent OâConnell, nice to meet you,â he offered his hand to shake.Â
âAh, youâre the rookie.â He grinned and nodded. âCome on, weâve got a lot to teach you and youâre already late.âÂ
âI am?â Steve seemed surprised and thought he was actually 30 minutes early.Â
âEh, if weâre on the same lift youâre fine, but if Iâm in before you, youâre late.âÂ
Steve thought that that was the most ludicrous thing but didnât say a word. Damn Bucky would have snarked at this joker. âDuly noted, sir.â He instead responded and made a mental note to ask Peggy what time she got in the office and walk with her. He was not going to have a target on his back in the first week and this Thompson seemed like a bully.Â
He walked in and nearly smiled at his girl but instead his eyes widened when he heard the single most insulting thing he could have ever imagined. âAgent Carter! Is the coffee done?âÂ
âIt was done before you rolled in, get it yourself.â Another male voice called and he didnât look up from his paperwork.Â
âMind your business, gimp.âÂ
âHow about I make you mind my crutch over your head, Taylor.â
âGentlemen! May I introduce the newest addition to our team, Agent OâConnell,â He called over the din, effectively ceasing any further fighting.Â
âOy, an OâIrish boy? Youâre a big fuckin leprechaun.â The same ingrate, Taylor, shouted.Â
âBorn and made in Brooklyn, actually,â Steve responded calmly and tucked his hands in his coat and shrugged a shoulder dismissing the quizzical look.Â
âMade? Donât you mean raised?â Taylor snapped.Â
âAh, no, I meant made, didnât your neighborhood make you who you are, Agent Taylor?â He asked as he followed Thompson past the offensive Agent and towards the empty desk, caddy corner to Peggy. He just had to look up and glance at her, this could make things difficult. But he was next to Sousa, and he seemed like a good man. He was pulling all sorts of Serum jokes this morning for Peggy and hoped she wasnât too upset at him for wanting to make her laugh.Â
âWeâll have our first briefing in 30. Until then, make yourself comfortable and go over the desk contents. I donât know what was left to you. Carter can get you anything youâre missing.â Thompson offered and walked away.Â
Steve took off his hat and coat and hung them on the coat rack before undoing the button on his bespoke jacket before sitting. He was nosing through, figuring what he would have to buy when he saw a stick entering his line of vision. He grabbed it before it could poke him and looked up at Sousa who was grinning.Â
âJust wanted to see if you were flesh and blood or a statue, OâConnell.â He offered, looking pointedly at Steveâs bicep in the suit jacket. âThatâs not standard issue to most men.âÂ
Steve let go of the crutch and shrugged. âAh, no I suppose it isnât standard issue.â He couldnât help the smirk. âNeither is a brain standard issue to some around here.â He joked, meaning Taylor. He glanced at Sousa then at Peggy. âAm I right?âÂ