Disoriented » Captain America

chapter two

02 x a land before captain america

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My next little 'jump' (aside from a few other battles) was not so chronological. In fact, it was completely prior to the Captain America serum . . . which, I won't lie, is usually not my style.

Though the temporal system is not so fragile as say, the butterfly affect, makes it out to be, it's still not something I like to mess with in major ways. But hey! It was Steve! So I was holding out hope that meeting him earlier would, if anything, just make us better friends.

I caught him as he was leaving another (failed) attempt at getting into the Army. I knew how close we were to his one miraculous moment of making it, but I also knew I needed to be tight-lipped about that, lest I screw him over accidentally.

I also knew he was brighter than most people in my century gave him credit for, and he'd pick up on my non traditional (for the time) clothes in an instant. That part I cared less about though, if I'm to be honest.

Which was precisely why I was leaning against a building with my arms crossed over my chest, watching and waiting for Steve Rogers to emerge.

He was easy to spot when he did. Shorter than the other man, though still dressed well; his hair combed neatly. What truly threw me for a loop was the fact that he still had that tired determination in his eyes. I hadn't realized it was something he'd carried with him so long . . . and now I couldn't help but wonder if that was part of what made him such a good hero.

"Hey!" I called, waving a hand at him, eyes sticking to him like glue.

He looked over at me, and even from a few yards away I could see his eyes pop. I worked hard to suppress my smirk as he hesitantly headed my way, and I straightened, pushing off for the wall. "I'm sorry, ma'am, do I know you?" he asked me, doing that cute little puppy head tilt as he studied me critically.

"No, not exactly," I said with a lilting smile. "That is to say, we're about to get very familiar with each other."

He blushed immediately, and it took all my willpower to suppress my laughter. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't-- I just . . . I think I'd remember a gorgeous da-- a pretty--" he paused, cleared his throat, and glanced around nervously before, "I'm just pretty sure I'd remember you."

I allowed myself a chuckle at that. "You would. Or rather, you will. But enough of my being cryptic -- something you're going to have to get used to, I must warn you -- my name is Jo Wilkes," I stuck out a hand, and waited expectantly for his response.

It didn't disappoint. He cleared his throat, straightened up, and looked me dead in the eyes as he flashed me what I recognized as one of his more charming smiles. "Miss Wilkes," he said, as he shook my hand, with much more frailty than I'd experienced in our other (my past, his future) interactions. "I'm Steve Rogers . . . though you knew that, already."

"Call me Jo," I corrected as our hands parted. "You'll get used to that eventually," I assured him then, beginning to walk down the street and assuming he'd follow.

He did. "Get used to what part, exactly?" he asked me curiously.

"My knowing things ahead of time." I smiled, though it was more of a distant gesture as I got lost in thought, "And after . . ." I shook my head and snapped myself back to the present, before looking back at him and letting my usual cheerful smile resume, "And the calling me Jo bit, I'm sure you'll get used to that easy."

Steve mumbled something under his breath that I didn't quite catch, and before I could ask what he'd said, he was addressing me at a more comprehensible volume. "I'm supposed to be meeting with a friend soon," he informed me. "Name's Bucky Barnes. Ring any bells for you?"