"NO! YOU'LL START A-"

James sighed helplessly as the pan caught fire and Peggy screamed.

"-fire," he finished lamely.

"I'm done. I can't do this. I'm ordering food."

James raised his eyebrows. "Or you could let me try for once. I've been here one week and you've tried to poison me with burnt pancakes, raw chicken, expired milk, undercooked eggs, dead vegetables, and now you've somehow managed to set fire to the oil. Just.......go watch the news or something. I'll call you in fifteen minutes."

Sighing, Peggy stalked off, angrily turning the TV on. How hard could it be to pretend to be normal? Was it supposed to be this difficult to learn to cook? Was she supposed to be this terrible at learning?

Most importantly, how long would this charade need to go on for before she could start sneaking out again?

Surprisingly, exactly fifteen minutes later, James called her name. Switching the TV off, she got up & walked over to him. "Yeah?"

"Taste this," he said, shoving a spoon in her mouth & turning back to the pot.

She glared daggers at his back as she pulled the spoon out of her mouth, but she could not hold the glare. The soup was divine.

"It's not bad," she grumbled.

"Not bad?" James asked, laughing, "it's the best thing in this whole country!"

"I doubt that," Peggy argued, leaning around James for another spoonful of soup, "I mean, REO Speedwagon's Can't Fight This Feeling? Dirty Dancing? Lionel Richie's Hello? Soup is not on that list."

"You're a romantic, huh?" James asked, leaving the soup in Peggy's hands as he went to set the table.

"Am not," Peggy scoffed before taking another spoonful of the soup.

"Hey, you better leave some of that for me."

"Make your own damn soup," she muttered, leaning over the pot.

"I did!"

"It's mine now."

"You are unbelievable, Peggy! Move over."

"No, I want more. It's tasty."

"You'll get more in a minute. Go get the cola I bought yesterday & put it on the table."

"But the soup-!"

Peggy blinked & stilled sharply at the look James gave her. It wasn't the stern, parent-like glares he'd been giving her everytime she screwed up at the stove. It was cold, harsh, demanding. She couldn't tear her eyes away, but she knew she had to do as he said. Who knew what would follow if she didn't?

When he finally turned away, it was as if someone had lifted a concrete slab off her chest. Quickly, she walked to the fridge.

Peggy never realised it was the same look she gave the mirror on the nights when she prepared for a job.

"So," she said once they sat down at the table, "Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

"Home," he responded, "My sisters love it. Sometimes I learn new recipes to impress them."

"That's sweet. Are you the eldest?"

"Mhm. What about you? Any siblings?"

Peggy sighed, thinking about her brother before just settling on shaking her head. "Just me."

"Friends?"

Peggy shrugged. "Not really. I actually-"

Peggy's phone lit up. James noticed it was a private number. He waited patiently as she answered the phone, mouthing apologies whenever she wasn't speaking.

"Yes, what time?.......Now!? I- okay. Where?.......Right, I'll be there in ten."

"Work?" James asked when she put the phone down on the table & sighed.

"I'm so sorry James. You made all this and-"

"I'll keep some in the microwave for you."

"I'm really sorry James."

"It's all right. See you in the morning?"

"Yes. I'll be back by then," she said, getting up. He waved to her as she passed by on her way to the front door. No sooner had she gone out, did his phone ring.

He didn't even greet.

"We have a job for you. Central Park, thirty minutes."

"Yes, sir. I'll be there."

Grabbing his jacket & his emergency bag, James left the apartment.

¤

"Howard Stark? You want me to take Howard Stark out?"

"Is that a problem for you, Soldier?"

"Uh, yes! The man's reportedly been considering hiring an assassin for a bodyguard! You know what assassins are like!"

"So do you. That is why this job is yours."

"But.......fine."

The Sokovian smiled as he watched his obedient soldier shrug his dark jacket & shirt off. "It's good you accepted, Soldier."

"Not like I had a choice," James grumbled, peeling the photostatic veil off his arm. "Sir," he added in a mocking tone.

Baron Helmut Zemo was not a man to be trifled with & for a long time, James did fear his wrath. Once he learned of his own importance to Zemo, James developed an attitude no other would be allowed to show to Zemo. Still, he didn't push often. As important as he was, there were gaps in his memory that made him wonder what his punishment had been. Having spent no less than a minute being as rude as he liked, James took the uniform silently & held still as the mask was fixed to his head.

Do not disappoint, Soldier. The longer you spend around that civilian, the worse you will get at your job......& you know what happens to soldiers that do not perform well. Do not make me use the triggers on you."

"Yes, sir," James said firmly, taking the gun from Zemo.

¤

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"You are assigned to Howard Stark. Am I right in assuming you do know who he is?"

"Right, but you don't want me to take him out?"

"Ms. Carter, we will give you twice your usual payment to complete this mission."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why I've been assigned this mission. I'm an assassin. I don't look after people, I kill them."

"Howard Stark believes himself to be a target. We believe he is a target to Hydra."

"Hydra.....they'd most likely send the Winter Soldier after him.....that's why you're assigning me to protect Stark, isn't it? I'm one of the only people to survive an encounter with the soldier."

"You understand the severity of your mission then, Carter? This is no side job, no small assassination you're paid for on the black market. This is your test, your proof of your versatility. Proof that S.H.I.E.L.D creates perfection, not mere killers. Do not fail us, Margaret."

Peggy shuddered. Hearing her first name fall from the lips of Alexander Pierce - a man all agents, Peggy included, refer to as "The Boss" - always sent shivers up her spine. Pierce never meant it with warmth or care. Using a S.H.I.E.L.D agent's first name was Pierce's method of letting them know he expected nothing less than perfection.

Peggy was hesitant. How could she protect someome when she had been trained to to do the opposite? Why did Pierce want to protect Howard Stark anyways? What did he have that they needed? Still, all her uncertainties meant naught.

"Will I need to be within a certain distance from him at all times?

"Not always," Pierce replied, shaking his head. "You will report to his home every morning & remain where you can see him until he returns to his home. Distance is of no consequence, though I don't see how you can protect him if you're not near enough. You will be given access & control over the security at the manor. Though his wife & son are not part of this arrangement & may come & go as they please, if their security ensures Howard's security, then their security is your responsibility. If he wants to leave the manor at midnight, you will be awake & alert to escort him wherever he wishes to go. The manner in which you approach this task is up to you. But fail, & you will become a lesson."

Peggy nodded. "Understood, sir."