Minor Language

You could hear you phone ringing from the solitude of your shower, but it was the first few minutes that you had been given since returning from your last mission, and you would be damned if you were going to be interrupted now.

Not even ten seconds after it had stopped, it began again, and now you felt the pangs of anxiety, knowing that something so persistent had to be coming from Nick. You hurried to finish your shower, barely rinsing the soap from your body and the shampoo from your hair before scurrying to your room to see what was so imperative, but a knock on your door came before you could look.

"Agent (Y/L/N), open the door, it's urgent."

"Clearly," you hissed, swinging the door open wide to see Nick peering in at you, but snickering as he pushed his way into your room and past your towel-clad form. "The dress code really has tanked around here, hasn't it? You know, when I call, I expect to get an answer, (Y/N)."

"You also expect us to not smell like a week underground without the luxury of clean water. It's called a shower, Nick. I'm entitled to at least that much before you send me out again." Kicking the door closed with your foot, you pulled the towel from your hair and began to dry it, watching him pull out his tablet and retrieve the information for your next task.

"We've made a pretty big discovery in the Arctic, and I'm not sure how you're gonna take it. You're the only person I want leading this job."

"Okay, you've got my curiosity," you grabbed the tablet from him, your eyes immediately widening at the sight on its screen. "You're kidding. This is some kind of a joke, right? Nick, tell me this is a joke."

"Sweetheart, do I look like I'm laughing?"

~~~

Steve Rogers was completely alone in this time, spinning around as he stood at the corner of 46th and Broadway in New York City, confused at the sights and sounds that surrounded him, completely different from the world he knew seemingly only moments ago. The city had always been loud and alive, but this was on another level. He recognized the street names and several of the buildings were the same, but the skyline was foreign to him now, as was the man standing before him, telling him that he was still home; that he had somehow survived the crash that was meant to save the city and meant to kill him in the process.

"You've been asleep, Cap. For almost 70 years," Nick said, watching Steve cautiously for any sudden reaction, not knowing what such a long time in stasis might do to the man's mind, and what this realization could do to his emotions. You stood behind Nick, waiting for Steve to say something, anything, that would tell you what kind of man he had woken up to be.

"Captain," you approached quietly, "my name is (Y/N), and I'm here to assist you with your re-entry as much as I can. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "it's just...I had a date." He looked once more at the city around him before turning back to you, his attention quickly focused on your face, studying it now that he was coming to realization of what happened. "You look familiar. Do I know you?"

"That would be impossible, sir. Given the amount of time that you were under."

"Right. Of course." He continued to watch you intently as you led him to the waiting vehicle and as you strapped into the seat next to him. "But you still look really familiar to me. Did I know someone in your family?"

"I'm not sure, Captain. We can look into that in good time," you smiled, turning to look away from his continued stare. "Right now we need to get you to SHIELD and get you caught up."

~~~

"Nick, this is the worst idea that you've ever had," you snapped, slamming the door behind him as you stormed into his office. "I'm not the person for this job. Get someone else."

The Director stayed seated with his back to you, calmly looking out the windows at the skyline and street below. "Where is he?"

"He's in the med bay getting a physical. Nothing I needed to see, trust me." It was frustrating to try to talk to him with his back to you, so you walked around his desk and planted your feet directly in front of him to block his view and force him to look at you. "Get someone else, Nick. He's not ready for this."

"So don't tell him."

"Sure, why didn't I think of that!" you huffed, throwing your arms up in frustration. "He's not stupid. He's been staring at me since we picked him up. He's going to figure out that we're hiding something."

"So then tell him."

It was all you could do to not lash out at him and slap the smug smile from his face; he knew that he was striking every last nerve that you had left, and it only made you more upset that he found it amusing. "Did someone lose a bet? Is that how you got this Director job? Because I feel pretty secure in saying that it wasn't because of your stellar leadership skills."

"(Y/N), listen, this is something that you have to decide. This is beyond your duties to SHIELD, it's personal. It's up to you and no one else."

Of course, he was right, but it did nothing to help you with the problem at hand; it only made things harder and more confusing. You hadn't said more than a few sentences to Steve, and you had no way to know the best way to broach the subject and not frighten him more than he already was. "Okay, in that case, maybe you can at least help me figure out what to say."

"How about this," he smirked, ""Hey, Cap, I look familiar because you banged my grandma seventy years ago."

Your mouth dropped open in complete shock and your mind was blank with any idea of how to respond. It took all of your focus just to turn yourself away and walk to the door, stopping at the threshold to look back at him one more time, watching him snicker aloud at the sight of your wide eyes and the horror in your expression. Silently, you closed the door behind you as you exited, the sound of his laughter beginning and quickly echoing the room.

"Oh, shit," you whispered to yourself, "I don't know if he was serious or not."

~~~

Before you could have a chance to screw up that conversation, the battle of New York came and set your progress with Steve aside. Despite the terrible situation and the effect it had on the city, you were almost thankful for the distraction just to give you more time to figure out how to talk to him.

You had arrived at HQ the next morning after the battle had ended, hoping that Steve wouldn't again push too hard on why you looked familiar to him, and that over time it had just fizzled away so you could get on with your work unencumbered. When you caught up with him, he was in one of the conference rooms, surrounded by stacks of books on the floor, the table covered with various papers covered in scribbled words and highlighted sentences. He looked deep in thought, and you considered not interrupting him, but he noticed you before you could sneak away.

"Hey, (Y/N), come on over. I could use a break."

"Captain," you nodded, "it looks like you're pretty deep into your research here. Have you tried using the databases? Or maybe the internet?"

"The SHIELD databases are a little more than I'm ready for, but yeah, internet? So helpful. I've been keeping a list of things that seem important to catch up on first and what everyone is suggesting I start with." Steve set his notebook and pen on the table gently, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped together on his lap as he again began to study your face as he had done with every meeting thus far. "I hope I'm not too much of a burden, (Y/N). I'm sure you have much better things to do than to entertain an old man."

"You're not old, Captain Rogers, and definitely not a burden." He didn't stop you when you spun his notebook to face you so that you could read what he had chosen as important items to learn, smiling at a few particular choices. "Star Wars and Star Trek? That's a pretty big goal to catch up on both of those. Star Wars has six movies so far with another on the way in a few years, and then you can branch out into games, television, and comics. If you throw in Clone Wars then you're looking at a huge amount of information to take in. If you start with Star Trek, you have the original series, Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Enterprise, Voyager, and a new series coming out next year. That's before you even get into the six movies with the original cast, the three with the Next Generation crew, and the new reboot that has another one coming out next year. They have games and comics too, along with a pretty extensive catalogue of novels to read."

When he didn't respond, you glanced up at his overwhelmed expression and quickly closed the notebook before saying any more. He took it from you and pushed it into his pack with a glance back at you, "so which is your favorite? Wars or Trek?"

"Oh, no. I'm not getting roped into that question," you scoffed. "That's like asking me to pick a favorite child. I love them both."

"Would you maybe be interested in watching some of them with me? I might get lost."

"Um, Captain..."

"Steve."

"Steve," you nodded, now fully avoiding his eyes, "I would love to, but I can't...it would be..."

He paused and straightened in his chair, sensing the quick shift and how uncomfortable you now were. "(Y/N), I promise, it's nothing like that. You just seem like you know this stuff."

"Okay, good," you sighed, your shoulders dropping and your body visibly relaxing. "Good, that's a relief, because anything else really isn't an option."

"Why is that?"

You opened your mouth to say something, though in the moment you had absolutely no idea what it was going to be, when you were saved from an answer by a few team members walking past, including some that Steve would already know. "Good morning, Tony," you greeted with your best polite smile.

"Stark," Steve acknowledged with a slightly curt nod.

"Morning, children," Tony smiled widely with a mischievous glimmer in his eye that worried you, pausing to stand behind you with his hands on your shoulders and a small squeeze. "Hey, (Y/N), have you told Cap here the big secret yet? He seems to be dying to know, don't you think? That you look so familiar because he banged your grandma back in the day?"

"Son of a bitch," you immediately groaned, dropping your head onto the table with a sound smack of your forehead against it. "I will kill you."

"I look forward to it, sweetheart," he laughed, releasing you and scurrying away to leave the mess he had made behind for you to now clean up. 

Part 2

FYI Reader has a little "language" tirade

"Uh, (Y/N)? What was that?" Steve asked very cautiously, leaning forward over the table. "Did he mean what I think he meant? Am I...your...?"

"I have to go," you sprang up from the chair, nearly knocking it over in your haste and desperation to get away from the situation. You hurried through the door and around a corner, only to crash into Tony and spill his coffee down the front of your clothes.

"You...asshat!"

"Hey, watch the language!" Tony mocked. "What would Grandpa America say if he heard you?"

"Oh, I'll give you language, Stark," you spat, taking off your outer shirt to leave you in a black SHIELD tank top that was equally soaked, which you quickly removed as well to leave you in nothing more than a sports bra and workout pants. "You've got some fucking nerve to show up and lay that secret out without asking me first. You're such an inconsiderate asshole! God forbid you stop for one goddamn second and take into consideration anyone else's feelings or what this kind of news might do to someone." You threw your shirt on the floor in anger and no care to if you ever saw it again, eyeing his suit coat. "Give me your jacket."

"This is Gucci," he gasped.

"I don't give a shit. You just created a mess that I have to go fix." You straightened your posture and held out your hand expectantly with no hint of backing down.

"Fine, but you're not keeping it," he groaned, pulling off the suit coat and tossing it to you. "And it had better not smell all girly either. Not that you smell bad," he smirked and took a step closer with a deep inhale through his nose, "hell, you smell great. Actually, roll around in it a while before you give it back."

"You're weird," you snickered, turning away to face your problem with the Captain head on. When you re-entered the conference room, he was nowhere to be found. His papers were still strewn across the table and each book was in place, but he was gone. You hurried back into the hall and grabbed Tony by the arm, spinning him away from his conversation to look at you and your building rage. "You scared him away!"

"Like a little baby animal?"

"Like a guy who just found out that he had his granddaughter sitting right in front of him, when he didn't even know that he had a daughter who could give him a granddaughter in the first place! This is bad, Stark." Pulling your phone from your pocket frantically, you mumbled to yourself that Fury had better answer, mixed with a few choice profanities in your frustration.

"You're acting like he's a lost child wandering in the city," Tony said with a questioning but amused tone as he watched you struggle. "He's a grown man."

"Who's been in the city for only a few days after being asleep for 70 years. He barely knows how to use our phones yet, Tony, much less how to navigate the New York transit system." You hissed into the phone at the ringing that never stopped for an answer, closing the line and shoving it back into your pocket. "Where could he go..." you mumbled to yourself as you made your way to the door, deciding on where to start looking. You turned back to Tony, pointing at him with a dare for him to argue, surprisingly finding him smart enough to heed your warning.

"And now I'm keeping the jacket."

~~~

Steve was wandering in a building that he barely knew, but it wasn't as if he were really paying any attention to where he was going; his mind was racing about what he was going to do next. He knew he had to talk to you and clear this all up, but now he was terrified to do so after seeing you run away from him so quickly. The familiarity in your face was so clear to him now that he judged himself for not recognizing it sooner. When he finally came to a dead-end and looked up from his feet, he spun around, finding himself looking square in the eye of his new redheaded teammate.

"Romanoff."

"Cap."

"Could tell me where...the, um..." he pointed aimlessly with a quiet stammer. "Where I can find...bathroom..."

"You're lost, it's okay. It's a confusing place," she smirked, taking a step aside for him to join her and walk together back down the long hallway. "Where's (Y/N)? I thought she was in charge of not letting you wander."

With an audible groan, he only glanced back at her, making a clear effort to not actually make eye contact so that she wouldn't call him out on the truth he was hiding. He knew enough about Agent Romanoff already to know that not only was she a master spy and assassin, but she was a master at reading when people were lying to her, and he was terrible at it. "We've had a bit of a breakdown in communication. I'm not sure if this pairing is such a great idea."

"Why? Did she do something? No," she paused, grabbing his arm as a reflex, "she said something inappropriate, right? She does that a lot."

"No, it's a bit more complicated than that...wait, you don't know? How does Stark know but you don't?"

"Know what?"

Steve began to panic now that he had awoken her curiosity and may have let out a secret that only a few had actually known; he definitely wasn't even close to ready to have this information go public. "It's nothing. Do you know where she is?" he deflected. He startled slightly at the buzzing in his pocket, not used to the sensation of the new phone he was given. He pulled it out and saw your name flashing across the screen, but made no effort to open the message.

Natasha peeked at the phone and sighed, looking at him with slight frustration and yanking it from his hand, "you know, that might be one way to find her if you actually answer her."

Can we meet at your apartment?

"Rogers, way to go, hot stuff. You've only been awake for a few days and the ladies are already beginning to swoon."

"Oh, God," he whimpered, "it's not like that. It's really, really not."

~~~

It felt strange to be in Steve's apartment without him there, but he had insisted that you have a key until he was fully settled since you were helping him get set up and had done most of the arrangements for furnishings and decoration to be delivered. Looking around the living room, you felt like you were standing in an earlier time, surrounded by some of the memorabilia that SHIELD had recovered after he had been declared dead, a few books on World War 2 that he insisted on buying "just to be sure they got it right", the antique record player that you had found miraculously in a thrift shop that you knew he would like, and a stack of faded and weathered pictures of his Commandoes that Agent Coulson had given you when he found out who you really were.

You shuddered at the reminder of Coulson, still shaken from his loss, sad at the memory of how excited he was to be actually meeting Steve so he could sign those stupid trading cards. When he discovered who you were, he was almost as thrilled to work with you as if you were actually the Captain, fanboying at every opportunity when you were assigned to his team. "Oh, Phil, you big idiot," you mumbled, taking the pictures in hand and grabbing a few of the empty frames next to them to lay out on the kitchen table. You had matched a half dozen pictures to their frames by the time Steve had finally arrived.

"Hey," he greeted quietly, closing the door behind him gently and a bit apprehensively, as if he were scared to be in the same room with you now. He tossed his keys onto the desk next to the door with a loud crash that echoed through the mostly empty apartment, making the two of you jump slightly at the harshness of it.

"Hey."

"I, uh..." he began with a few steps across the room towards you, "I'm sorry I took off."

"I understand why you did." You watched him slowly move to the opposite side of the table and carefully pull out one of the chairs, looking at you with wide eyes and moving with a clear uncertainty of what he was doing. Maybe Tony was right; he was just a scared little baby animal.

"It's a lot for me to handle, you know? Just when I thought that this whole waking up 70 years later was the biggest shock I would get."

"I'm so sorry, Steve. Having Tony make a joke of it wasn't even close to the way I wanted you to find out."

"I wish I would've known before..." his voice cracked and failed. He looked down at his folded hands on the table top and began to wring them together anxiously, "I would've done it differently."

"Like maybe not crash the plane?"

"Yeah, like that," Steve smiled weakly, though he still was avoiding your eyes. "She should have told me."

"She didn't know yet. Or at least that's the story that's been told to us. But, Cap, even if she did, I don't know that she would've. She was allowing you the dignity of your choice in that moment."

With that, he finally looked up at you and his eyes were sad in a way that sent a pain through your chest and caught your breath in your throat. When he looked at you now, he wasn't seeing you; his mind was lost in a memory that was replaying in his tortured mind, and it hurt you to watch. "She said the same thing to me...about Buck."

"Yeah, I know," you sighed, finally sitting next to him and cautiously putting a hand over his to stop their restless motion. "She was definitely strong in her principles. Growing up with her around made for quick character building, I can assure you." He sat silently for a few minutes, and you waited, until he closed his eyes and his face began to redden with a quiet sniffle and hard swallow of tears that were held back. "Steve, I know this is all a terrible shock to you. Nothing is familiar, and you feel like you're alone, but you're not. Nick assigned me to work with you, but I want to do this. I want to help you."

He turned abruptly and pushed forward, grabbing you in a tight squeeze and finally letting his emotions out; emotions that had been building since his eyes opened, crashing into you like a raging storm that threatened to take you with it. You could feel yourself responding, having a hard time controlling your own tears at the sound of his pain finally being released. The two of you sat this way for what felt like hours, a super soldier with untold strength, needing yours to keep himself together. When he eventually released you and pulled back, you could feel that he was seeing you completely differently.

"Thank you, (Y/N). I'm really lucky to have you."

"Yeah, I know," you smiled.

For the first time, he was able to let out a small laugh and his eyes began to brighten. "If Peggy were here, she would be so proud. There's a lot of you in her."

"Okay," you sighed, reaching out and taking both of his hands in yours, "I have something to say that you should know, but I'm not sure how you're gonna take it."

"Oh, great. I don't know what else I can handle today, (Y/N)."

"Steve, Grandma Peg is still alive."

Part 3

"Oh, yeah, I know where we are. I've been through this neighborhood before. I beat up a guy behind that diner," you pointed out the window from the back seat of the cab. "And in that alley. And behind that movie theater."

Steve turned to face you, looking at you silently and incredulously, his eyes wide at the sudden revelation and immediate recognition of what you were saying.

"What? I swear, they totally deserved it!" you exclaimed, now full of vigor as you spoke and became incensed at the memory. "They were picking on the little guy, and I can't stand bullies. There's no way that I'll ever stand by and let that happen, so I'm sorry if you don't approve, but I'm not backing down on this."

All Steve could do was crack a smile and give you a gentle pat on your knee as he turned to look out his own window once again. "That's my girl."

~~~

Steve handed a few bills to the cab driver and made his way around to your side of the car, opening the door for you before you had a chance to do it yourself, forgetting that chivalry was to be expected around him. It was with a little apprehension that you stood in the nursing home doorway, waiting to cross the threshold of the building but unable to do so until you could give Steve a warning.

"Cap, listen, there's something you need to know before we go in there."

"You know, when you use this tone, all it does is make me scared to know what you're about to say."

"It's about Gram. She's had some problems remembering things lately," you explained, "they think it's Alzheimer's. It's a brain disease that-"

"I know what it is," he sighed with a nod, "I read about it when SHIELD tested my memory. So...do you think she'll even remember me?" The crushed look in his eyes stung at your heart and you could see that no matter how well you sugar-coated the answer, it wouldn't be enough to make that go away.

"She has good days and bad. I told her that you were alive, hoping that when you walk in we don't give the poor woman a heart attack," you smiled, taking his hand. "I hope she at least remembers that much. Only one way to find out." You began to take a few steps but stopped abruptly when he didn't readily follow, turning back to see him staring up at the old and weathered building. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he paused, "nothing. Just nervous, I suppose."

"Come on, Grandpa," you laughed, yanking him up the stairs, "I think 70 years is long enough to keep the woman waiting."

"Okay, but you and I need to have a talk about that name, young lady."

~~~

"Hey Gram," you paused and peeked through her door, "I have that visitor we talked about." You hoped to get a sense of her memory with that line, but she was giving you nothing to let you know if she remembered what you told her about Steve.

"Are you just going to stand out there all day, darling? Come in!"

"Peggy," Steve cleared his throat quietly and anxiously at the sight of her, still too nervous to advance into the room. When you glanced back at him, his skin was a bit paler and you felt a slight tremor in his hand that was now gripping yours tightly enough to block the blood flow to your fingers. "Do you remember me?"

"Can't say that I do," she replied cautiously. "Come a little closer so that I can see you better, dear." Steve looked at you and then back to Peg, releasing your hand reluctantly and stepping up to her bedside. "Closer, darling," she smiled politely, waiting for him to get within her reach, laughing out loud when he jumped at the frail but surprisingly strong hand gripping his behind. "Ah, Steve! Nice and firm as I remember!"

"Grandma!"

"What?"

"I can't believe you just did that!"

"I can," Steve laughed, leaning down to give her a hug that had waited far too long to happen. "Even when she out-ranked me, she always walked a few steps behind. Subtle, Peg."

"I wasn't out for subtly, Steve. I was out for the best view, and I most certainly found it."

~~~

After the initial mortification wore off, you left Steve and Peggy to talk for a while and catch up on all that he had missed over the years. In the mean time, you had decided to run out for lunch, but when you returned, you hovered in the doorway, afraid to interrupt what appeared to be an intimate discussion. You were about to leave for a bit longer when you were finally spotted.

"(Y/N), there you are darling. I was beginning to think you'd gotten yourself lost."

"Oh, you know me Gram, I like to get to know my surroundings. Learned from the best," you smiled, standing in an uncomfortable silence while they stared back at you.

"Um...I've got lunch. I thought maybe situations like this could use sandwiches and uh...I brought you that tea you like." You raised a thermos in Peggy's direction with a tentative smile and an awkward glance towards Steve that was readily reciprocated.

"Thank you, dear. Sit. Please. Steve and I were just finishing our catching up."

Steve stood and pulled a chair up to the bed for you as you laid the lunch out on the bedside table for everyone. "So, did you happen to tell him about when you bought me my first thigh holster?"

"That sounds like quite the experience," Steve laughed, taking a sandwich from you, pulling it apart to inspect what was inside with a slight scowl developing on his face.

"Problem?"

"Hmm?" he murmured, looking up after he realized that he was being watched by the two of you. "Oh, sorry, no. No problem. But, are there...pickles on this?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't like pickles," he said with a crinkle of his nose, gently peeling back the top piece of bread and trying to use a potato chip to scrape the offensive item away without actually having to touch it.

"Oh my God, you big overgrown baby," you huffed, yanking the sandwich from his grip and throwing the pickles onto your own. "There. All better."

Steve grabbed his sandwich back with a mischievous grin and a wink, smiling with his first bite, but his words were a bit muffled with a full mouth. "My mom canned fo muf that I gop fick of picklef after a while. I canp fand 'em."

After staring blankly at him and catching maybe half of what he said, Peggy chuckled and resumed the conversation as she gingerly peeled away the wrap of her own lunch. "Anyway, the holster. It was quite the experience," Peggy grinned, "but I was going to tell him that story after I told him about how you were sent home from school multiple times in only one term."

"That's really not necess-"

"No, no, no, let the woman talk. Now I'm curious." Steve glanced at you with a glimmer of eagerness in his eyes. "Please, share."

"Head jock wouldn't take no for an answer, got a little too close for comfort, and I may or may not have...broken his nose."

"Oh, wow," he sounded shocked and impressed. "But, didn't you say multiple times?"

"Let's just say he thought that I was playing hard to get and it resulted in a kick to the crotch and a dislocated shoulder."

"I take it Peg here was very proud?" Steve smirked, finishing his lunch with a toss of the last bite into his mouth. "I sure am."

"Oh, I couldn't have been prouder. They kept sending her home and I just kept sending her right back!"

"Anything else I should know?"

"No, enough about me," you interjected. "What were you two talking about before I came in?"

"We were just reminiscing about some of those good times we had between all of the fighting and world-saving that Steve was doing. And heaven knows we had a LOT of good times," she grinned suggestively at Steve.

"Okay, gross. There are children present."

"Okay, prude. But I know you know how it all works. How do you think you got here?" Steve chuckled, snatching your sandwich away and taking a huge bite when you set it down on the table with an audible groan.

"Yeah, I'm done."

"Ugh...no," he mumbled, spitting the bite out into his napkin. "I forgot you took my pickles."

"I'm sorry, (Y/N), if I'd have known where you were going for lunch I would have told you that I usually take his pickle."

"That's it, I can't. I'm leaving." You tossed your napkin aside and all but ran from the room, determined that you wouldn't return, no matter how long it took for Steve to join you. Peggy's brow furrowed when she looked back at the Captain, neither of them sure of why you ran out so quickly.

"Was it something I said?"