Rogue Agent

Chapter Six

The smoky barbeque smell drifted in through the windows. Steve was outside, cooking some chicken. Peggy and I were setting the table, chatting as we did so. This would be just a nice, casual family dinner. But Peggy didn't make it so immediately, after all, we did have some business to discuss. It was less business and more the matter of my safety, but in such a situation the two were one and the same.

"Josephine, we need to keep you safe here. You can't visit the office anymore."

"Mum, what was that you and Howard were talking about me today?"

She shifted through the silverware. "That's none of your business."

"Well you mentioned me, so obviously it is." I laid out placemats.

"Howard thinks they would've attempted to steal you as a child. That's what I feared for years, anyway- after you disappeared. But you somehow made it to the 21st century, and Howard thinks that one of us should take the technology that you used to get here to take you there. I told him no, definitely. You just arrived."

"But how will I get there? If history doesn't go through properly, won't this whole timeline be screwed- erm, excuse my language- up?" Hadn't meant to 'cuss.' Oops.

"Well how do we know someone from Russia didn't already deliver you to the future?"

"They would've trained me there, then- better technology, better technique. I'm not at all trained, so we can rule that out. Mum, someone needs to do it-"

Peggy answered surely, but blandly- "No, I don't want anyone getting trapped."

"Alright," was all I said as an answer.

Steve came inside and put down the plate with the chicken in the center of the table. Peggy took baked potatoes from the oven. I waited till the oven was closed and, as if on cue, took the canned green beans that were cooking off the stove. We all took our share of food, plating quickly and getting to eating all too soon. I think we were all extremely hungry, as there was no hesitation to begin eating. I took a bite of my father's chicken- the savory yet spicy barbeque sauce the perfect compliment to it.

"So the super soldier can cook too," I teased with a grin. Steve looked up from his plate, and gave me a pleased smile. I carefully looked over to Peggy, careful not to mess with her. She seemed to get so engulfed in her work and the situation with the Russians. The three of us all ate for a minute or two, before Peggy finally broke the silence.

"I think we should enroll Jo in school, shouldn't we?"

I couldn't help but smile, despite how weird Peggy had been earlier. I liked the sound of that. Maybe at this school I would find that I made friends easily. I wasn't an unpleasant person, just a bit... sharp-tongued, and my reputation tended to precede me.

"I haven't had much luck in American schools, before all this," I admitted, despite my common sense. "Believe it or not, teenagers in the future can be extremely..." I pondered the word, "nasty."

Steve, who was about to eat some beans, put his fork down and frowned. "Are you alright?"

I shook my head, "No, I'm fine. Bitches get stitches, right?" I immediately regretted saying that. Steve and Peggy both stifled a laugh.

"Language," corrected Steve, his face suddenly drained of the humor which had been there mere seconds before. He then took a bite of his chicken before continuing. "Honestly, though, if you have anything you struggled with social-wise, let your mother and I know. We both have a lot of experience."

My eyes wandered down to my plate, and I poked my chicken with my fork before switching my fork to my left hand and cutting off a piece with a butter knife in my right. "I'm fine, thank you." My voice was soft, nearly undetectable nerves underlying. No one pressed the topic further.