Disoriented » Captain America

chapter one

01 x in the beginning

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My first encounter with the great Captain America was completely unintentional, which many people don't believe on account of my abilities, and my personality in general . . . but for once, I had nothing to do with this spontaneous interaction. Making it legitimately spontaneous (though when you can go anywhere in time and space everything seems spontaneous).

It was post-serum, pre-ice days, and I had been trying to scratch an itch I had for action, which had so conveniently placed me in the middle of one of Captain Steve Rogers' Hydra attacks.

I didn't know at the time that it was a Captain America moment. I knew it was a World War II moment, sure; but there were plenty of battles going on across Europe during World War II . . . it's not like Captain America could be at all of them at the same time.

(Now I could, but that's not the point.)

I teleported smack in the middle of it, and immediately ducked out of the way of a blast from some far-too-advanced weapon in the hands of a German. My brow flickered in what could've been momentary worry, but the feeling passed as quickly as it came, and instead of dwelling on the thought -- I'd read history books in my original time -- I teleported behind the man who'd made the mistake of firing at me, grabbed him around the neck, and knocked him promptly unconscious before going to pick up the gun he'd been using.

Just 'cause I knew Hydra had been up to no-good too-advanced stuff during this age, didn't mean I wasn't interested in getting a closer look. Curiosity killed the cat all right, but satisfaction brought it back. I could probably point to that reasoning as to why I'd lived so long, if there weren't so many other things to factor in.

I was a little busy studying the gun to pay attention to things around me, and that was when it happened. I heard a loud, masculine shout of, "Get down!" before I was tackled to the ground, right before a grenade hit metal with a loud twang, an explosion quickly following.

The first words out of my mouth were, "Well, thanks," because I'd learned early on that explaining I was a human force field to everyone who tried to save my life was a bad idea. Except then I was being pulled to my feet, and I found myself staring into the eyes of the very tall, very heroic Steven Grant Rogers.

(I laugh sometimes when I use his full name. Can't help it. It's fun to say.)

Except at that moment he was Captain America, but you know, same-different.

Steve stared at me for a good long moment in utter confusion, his head canted just enough that he looked a bit like a puppy as he studied me, searching my eyes before finally seeming to find his voice. "Not a problem, ma'am," he said then, before clearing his throat. He averted his eyes somewhat, and the next thing I knew he was launching his shield into the air, but I was too distracted with what he was saying. "Not with Hydra, then?"

I scoffed, though I cast one long, sideways glance at the gun that was now on the ground. Then I looked back up at him and flashed one of my infamous crooked smiles, "I look like Hydra to you in this get up, Cap?"

He caught his shield -- I still wonder how he does that boomerang thing -- before making eye contact with me again. "I wasn't going to comment on your attire."

My smile only widened. "As gentlemanly as that is of you, I'd be worried if you didn't notice."

He chuckled at that, though he was still watching me with a perplexed expression. "Trust me, ma'am, I noticed."

I nodded. "Good," I declared, before I looked past him and threw a force field over a few of his more struggling soldiers. I nodded their direction, and watched with ill-concealed amusement as his face briefly morphed to shock, "You might wanna head on over there. I'm good for a lot, but I'm sure not a captain."

Before he could answer -- he was too busy turning and gaping at me open mouthed -- I flashed him a wink and teleported off to deal with a tank.

That was his only moment of shock, though; from then on, for as long as I've known Steve, he hasn't been taken by surprise by anything. I suppose a crazy redhead with super powers beyond even Hydra's wildest dreams was a good way to make someone hard to impress . . .

Put simply, Captain America lived up to the hype. He could've cleaned house without me at that Hydra facility, but with me there, we mopped the floors with them in record time.

Afterwards, I met up with him as he was waving several men back toward their base. When a few of them tried to stop and talk to me, I flashed them a charming smile and told 'em to listen to their captain. They did.

Then I was alone with Captain America (alone-ish), and he was regarding me with what I was pretty sure was respect. "Ma'am," he said, and my smile grew.

"Captain," I retorted.

"I don't believe I got a name," he said, a smile of his own curving his lips.

"Name's Jo," I said, rocking back and forth on my heels in a childlike manner. "And you are Steve Rogers."

He wasn't phased this time, and instead opted for shaking his head. "Should I even ask?" I didn't get an answer before he added, "Are you my guardian angel, or something? Another one of Dr. Erskine's?"

I suppressed a laugh, and shook my head. "You know, you asked anyway," I pointed out like the smart aleck I was, before taking a few lazy steps away from him. "I'm from the future, Cap," I informed him. "And, y'know, everywhere else, given the occupation."

"What is your occupation?" he asked. I could feel his eyes on me, and I knew he was aware I was prepped to vanish at any given moment.

"Super hero of time and space," I declared in a nonchalant, sing-song voice, before I looked over my shoulder and wiggled my fingers at him. "See ya around, Cap."

I was gone before he could make any retort, and I'm happy to report it was only the beginning of our escapades.

Oh, how I love beginnings.