I tapped my foot nervously on the floor while I hunched over in the leather chair glaring at the marble floor. It felt like I'd been here hours -I glanced at the clock 8:19pm- I had been here hours.

This is the third day I'd been sitting in this chair. Not continuously of course but the third day I'd spent in this chair after I spent half an hour each morning to convince the receptionist to let me wait outside his office.

Three days ago and every day since, I've marched myself to S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters to have a talk with the director of S.H.I.E.L.D, Nick J. Fury. I mean don't get me wrong I'd rather not go through S.H.I.E.L.D to do this but really, it seems the best way to go about things. Plus if I can get verified by S.H.I.E.L.D it might make things easier.

Before now I spent countless hours exploring (and by that I mean getting lost in) archives and digging through libraries. I've powered through the family albums, read old journals and skimmed through dusty books.

There is no way I'd come here unless I was 100% sure, because there was no way I'd want Fury to tear me a new one for wasting his time. I mean sure, I'd love to believe Great Grandma Margret's stories, but come on, she's 94 and grandparents are notorious for telling tall tales.

Which brings me back to the current situation it's 8:30 at night, I'm tired, I'm hungry and I wish Fury would hurry up and get his ass back to his office from, where ever it is he was and just I don't know, yell at me or something. I'm starting to crave human contact. I worry I'm blending into the furniture. I certainly feel like I'm blending into the furniture, I think my tail bone is numb.

'Ahh fuck it I'm going home.' I thought standing up, stretching and hearing my stiff joints crack and pop.

My feet, clad in platformed combat boots (I have a minor height complex), made their way silently across the icy floors as my head hung low. 'I guess I'll have to come back tomorrow.'

"Hey! Watch it!" A hard body cried as a I walked into it, as I was paying more attention to my toes than where I was walking.

"Sorry man." I said looking up and meeting the eyes of a bald guy with an eye patch. "Hey! Do you know how long I've been waiting outside your office?" I snapped when I realised it was none other than Nick Fury himself.

"Sorry kid, don't do autographs." He shoved past me and continues down the hallway I'd just walked through.

My nostrils flared. "Kid?" I asked, veins showing on my forehead. I stormed down the corridor after him and forced open the door he shut in my face.

"Hey, get out of my office!" Fury yelled.

"Three days. I've been waiting three days outside your office. And before that two months trying to get your attention. Mr Fury I get very much that you are a busy man but I swear to god if you don't look at these files..."

"You'll do what?" He asked quirking his only visible eyebrow.

"Break something. You'd better hope it's not you." I said slamming the Manila folder stuffed to bursting point on his desk.

As if to humor me he opened the files to see old S.H.I.E.L.D records, journal entries, birth certificates and dusty, tattered pictures.

"Look, I understand you're busy and are on a tight schedule but so am I. If you could just, it's a big ask but if there was a way you could confirm this, that'd be real great." I wasn't above begging.

"If you spent two months and three days waiting around for me your schedule can't be that tight." He remarked studying the records in his hands.

"That's why my schedule is so damn tight." I snapped back mentally chastising myself for losing my cool a moment after when the rage had subsided.

"There's no way I can confirm this without more substantial and solid evidence. It's easy to forge documentation like this, and the pictures? Could be Photoshopped." He said not sounding that bothered by the entire thing.

"I didn't want to believe it either but at the moment I don't exactly have the luxury of disbelief, ignorance maybe bliss but it sure as hell isn't right now." I replied.

"You're trying to tell me Captain Steve Rogers is your grandfather." Fury responded a little amused.

"Great grandfather. And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not be related to the legendary Captain America. But guess what? Apparently I am." I argued annoyed.

"None of these records say a Margret Carter was ever married to Steve Rogers and your grandfather's birth certificate doesn't have his name on it either." Fury explained.

"Why do you think that is Einstein? If she'd mentioned his name on the birth certificate what exactly do you think would happen, eh? World War II, Dr. Abraham Erskine created the Super Soldier Serum which, after his assassination and the destruction of the last vial, no one has been able to re-create it. If she'd listed Steve's name on the birth certificate she'd have lost her child and he'd be put through extensive testing and used as a human guinea pig in order to see if the super soldier gene had been passed on. If Great Grandma Margaret had put Steve's name on the birth certificate John Carter's life would have been destroyed on a minor possibility."

"As insulting as that was, you also have a good point." Fury sighed.

"Let it be know Director Fury is a nice guy. I'll send up one of my agents to take you to the labs. If you're a match for both, then I'll confirm the information and set up a meeting." Nick then picked up the black phone with a spiral cord on his desk.

People still use those?

Fury made a few calls and moments later just as promised an agent appeared at the door.

"Come in agent Coulson. You are to take Ms. Carter to the labs and get her tested for a DNA match to both Margaret Carter and Steve Rodgers. Bring her back when you have that information." Coulson nodded and lead me out of the room and into an elevator.

I sat my denim clad ass down upon a cold metal table in one of the many labs S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters had. As instructed I took off my old and tattered, brown leather jacket and sat it on the table beside me, revealing a white tank top. The lab guy swabbed my arm with a disinfectant wipe that stung more than it cleaned. Without warning the needle was jabbed into my arm and I could feel my blood being sucked from my body.

"Ow what the hell? How come you didn't warn me?!" I snapped glaring at the scientist.

"If you tense the needle snaps. It's better that I didn't tell you so I don't have to fish out bits of metal from your arm." He replied going back to work.

"You got any cotton wool or am I just going to bleed out here on the table?" My tolerance for assholes had gone down by a mile as it was now 9:39pm and last time I'd eaten was over 14 hours before.

"Band-aids are in the cupboard sweetheart." He yelled before sticking headphones in his ears and turning the music up. I hope he realized there was at least 12 cupboards in this row and there were limitless rows to choose from.

Coulson laughed and lead the way before wiping the blood away with a swab and slapping on an adhesive bandage. The waste was put into a bio-hazard bag and it was thrown out.

Coulson poured me a coffee while we waited; black, one sugar. "So I notice your Jacket had 'Rogers' embroidered on it."

"Good for you." I replied sipping the hot liquid.

"Belong to anyone I know?" He asked with a smile.

"Well it was my grandmother's, and before that it belonged to Great Grandma Margaret, yes you would be correct in assuming the person she got it from was Captain America. Any other questions about my supposed claim to fame?" I snapped. I didn't know why I was being such a hard bitch all of a sudden but Steve was a touchy subject for me. And at the moment, the guy was all I had left.

"Sorry I..." He started.

"No it's me, it's just a touchy subject for me." I replied. That's as much of an apology as he was getting though.

"Hey, your results." The lackey of the scientist from before ran up and handed us a thin Manila folder with a single piece of paper inside.

He was a sweet boy not much older than myself, tall though. I was lucky I was wearing platforms or I might have felt ridiculous. He smiled at me as I took the folder from his grip and smiled back; smiling though unusual for me, wasn't a once in a lifetime thing.

I opened the folder with both the boy and Coulson leaning in, looking over my shoulder, watching as I read. "I knew it." I said. Reading the information presented before me.

"Well would you look at that." Coulson replied, amused. The boy seemed to have disappeared however Coulson escorted me back to Fury's office just a few hours after he'd sent me fore testing.

"A match for both?" Fury asked sounding surprised.

"Yes sir." Coulson relied standing ridged on the other side of Fury's desk.

"Told ya." I gloated, throwing the paper coffee cup across the room and into the waste paper basket.

"Well, I guess it's time to uphold my end of the bargain. Captain Rogers gets back from a mission in Budapest at 0600 hours. He'll have some paperwork to fill out and a post mission briefing so I'll set up the meeting for 0900 hours."

"And you don't think he'll want some sleep? No. Set up the meeting for after lunch, that should give him a couple of hours at least." I argued.

"Alright little miss tight schedule, I'll set up the meeting for 1300 hours."

"Deal." I replied. "I'll be back here by 12:30pm tomorrow." I started walking out the door.

"Where are you going?" Fury asked quirking his eyebrow again.

"I left something at the front desk, gotta go pick it up." I replied continuing out the door and down the stair to the elevator which I took to the ground floor.

I sighed and kicked off my boots at the front door, staggering across the living room floor and slumping down on the couch with an even bigger sigh. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.

"Someone's home awfully late." a masculine voice sounded from the armchair across from me.

I let out a hushed scream and fell off the couch pulling a handgun from my side, and taking off the safety.

"Easy, easy there Rambo. It's me." The familiar voice hushed.

"Peter what are you doing in my house?" I replied clicking the safety back on.

"Can't a guy visit his best friend to make sure they're okay?" He joked jumping from his spot in the armchair to the couch.

"Not at 11:30 at night they can't." I replied putting the gun away and sitting beside them.

"Aunt May hadn't seen you in a while and got worried. I said I'd stay over tonight to keep her mind at ease." Peter explained sighing and hunching over his knees.

"You know, you're still in your Spidey getup. You might want to go get changed before the pizza guy gets here." I laughed.

"Awww yus. Team American Spider back in action." He called as he ran up the stairs to the bathroom.

"Hey, what do you want on?" I yelled after him.

"Do you even have to ask?" He replied coming back down the stairs in his pyjamas rubbing at the oil, grease and dirt off his face with a wet towel.

"Meat lovers, got it. What did you do this time?" I gestured to his face.

"Minor car pile up." he shrugged.

"Paul!" I yelled opening the door to reveal our usual pizza guy. He'd been our usual pizza guy since I'd accidentally told him I loved him after accepting the pizza and Peter had specifically requested him every time since. (I get very emotional around food.)

"Good to see you again, been awhile since you ordered two large meatlovers with hot sauce."

"Too long." Peter nodded grabbing the boxes and eating a slice as he walked away. I paid Paul and chased after Peter before he could eat all the grub.

"Wat goovy d'yu wan wach?" Peter said while stuffing his face.

"Depends, what movie do you want to watch?" I replied more eloquently.

"Anything that isn't one of those crappy chick flicks and rom coms Gwen makes me watch." Peter replied going slightly green at the thought.

"How about die zombies die?" I asked chugging the soda out of the bottle.

"We watched that last time."

"Okay, Back from the Dead III?"

"Nah, let's watch Honey I cooked the kids." Marvelous. The comedy about cannibals that takes the piss out of the Honey I shrunk the kids movie.

"Deal. But you make the Popcorn." I agreed. I always burn them, like I'm not kidding, I almost set the microwave on fire.

"Yeah, I'd rather not have to call the fire department. I'll make the popcorn, you get the candy."

"Hey, rise and shine snotball." Peter said nudging me with his foot.

"Nice to see you too butthole." I rubbed my eyes

"That's Sir Butthole the Third, to you, peasant." He corrected waving his arms around dramatically.

"Clean up time?" I yawned still curled up in the nest of pillows and blankets from the previous night.

He nodded and pulled the doona out from under me. "Hey, the faster we get this done the better. Aunt May is making breakfast."

I was not a stranger to one of Aunt May's home cooked meals. She was a fantastic cook, until it came to meatloaf. Any time Peter stayed over at mine the next morning I was dragged down the street in my pyjamas.

"Ah, good to see you again. It's been a while, I was beginning to forget what you looked like." Aunt May stood in the kitchen frying up bacon and pancakes dressed in her nightgown and tied up in a bathrobe looking like she'd slept for thousands of years. She turned away from the stove to receive a kiss on the cheek from Peter and wrapped her arms around me in a bone crushing hug. For a petite woman she was surprisingly strong.

"It's been too long Aunt May." I replied when I'd gotten my breath back.

We went through breakfast like nothing had changed, with Peter getting scolded by his aunt every five minutes for eating like a pig and Aunt May asking me about my schooling.

I'd known Peter since I was 6, and any time Aunt May asked me about how we were doing in class or what we were up to I always had to come up with a quick excuse, because usually, we were up to no good. Don't get me wrong, we weren't anything like Flash but we certainly weren't the good little students like Gwen.

There was Peter, skateboarding through the halls even though he knew better, and me, letting the frogs from biology loose in the girls' locker room.

Aunt May left to go get ready for the day and left Peter and I to do the dishes. "So what do you plan on doing today?"

"Well I managed to get Fury to listen to me last night and he set up a meeting for me at 1." I replied glaring at a water spot on the glass.

"That's great. I was hoping something would happen with him. Otherwise we'd have to play the wild card." Peter replied stacking the plates in the cupboard.

"The wild card?" I quirked an eyebrow whilst intensely scrubbing away at one of the glasses.

"Tony Stark. You know, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist." Peter listed taking the glass from me.

"Right, I imagine he'd be as good a help as Fury." I laughed draining the sink.

"Well I imagine he'd have your clearance done faster and have set up a meeting months ago." Peter argued.

"Then why didn't we go to him first?" I laughed.

"Fury is his boss and in charge of like world security, it'd sound better. Plus Steve works there." I sighed.

"So what are doing today?" I asked changing the subject.

"I figured I'd go see Gwen, haven't seen her in a while 'cause of the Spidey business." He explained as I turned slightly green at the thought. It was no secret Gwen and I didn't get along.