Chapter Text
"We've got a new recruit," Fury announced, wasting no time as he strode into the briefing room where Steve was seated with Tony and Natasha. With the gesture of a finger on his tablet, holographic screens flickered to life at the head of the conference table, displaying your S.H.I.E.L.D. profile.
"She's cute," Tony commented, taking a sip of his drink. Natasha caught Steve’s eye and rolled her own, but as Steve turned his attention to your image on the screen, he had to admit to himself that Tony was right. There was no denying that you were a beautiful woman.
"Y/N Y/L/N," Fury continued as if Tony hadn't spoken. "One of our lab technicians at the Hub. Or at least she was, until—"
"'The Incident'," Natasha read aloud from the screens, raising an eyebrow. "What's 'The Incident'?"
In answer, Fury pulled up a security video taken from one of the Hub laboratories, showing you in a labcoat and safety glasses, flitting between tapping away at a laptop and fiddling with a complicated-looking set-up of beakers and equipment. Just as you reached out to make an adjustment, something let off a bright spark, and a moment later an explosion rocked the screen. Steve felt his jaw clench at the sound of your scream, your pain evident even through the tinny audio of the security feed. The video footage was marred by static for a few seconds, and when the picture came clear again, the laboratory was in complete disarray and you were nowhere to be seen.
"An Enhanced?" Natasha asked Fury.
He nodded. “Though as you can see, not entirely by choice.”
"So what's her party trick?" Tony questioned, leaning forward to more closely examine the footage of the trashed laboratory. "Some kind of teleportation?"
"Not exactly."
The video was replaced with an extract from a report. Steve read the words "subject has the ability to control her own macroscopic quantum wave function, allowing for quantum tunnelling" and his eyebrows drew together in confusion. The expression on Natasha's face reassured him that he wasn't the only one who had no idea what that meant.
"Quantum tunnelling—what is that?" Steve asked, glancing between Tony and Fury.
"She can pass her atomic particles through the spaces between the atoms of other objects," Fury explained matter-of-factly. "She can make herself and anything she touches completely intangible."
"She can walk through walls, Cap," Tony summarised, an explanation Steve found much more helpful. "Like a ghost." He sounded impressed.
Steve frowned. "How is that possible? And what happened to her after the explosion? It looks like she just—"
"Vanished? Got vaporised? Nope, I actually just fell through the floor and landed in the gym. It was pretty embarrassing."
At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, three heads whipped around to find you sitting at the formerly empty seat at the end of the table.
"Sorry to interrupt, Captain Rogers. I just figured since I was already running late, I might as well make a dramatic entrance," you said with a small smile, jerking your thumb back at the solid wall behind you through which you had presumably entered the room.
“Oh, you're gonna fit right in—we're all about big dramatic entrances," Tony said. Steve could hear the smirk in his voice even without looking back at him.
Your smile widened, and Steve noticed that there was a playfulness in your eyes that had not been evident in your S.H.I.E.L.D. security ID photo, a spark that further brightened your already attractive face.
He quashed that thought before it could go any further.
You nodded at each other person in the room, greeting them in turn. “Director Fury. Mr Stark. Agent Romanoff.”
"Y/L/N, glad you could make it." Fury gestured towards you. "Now that you've got their attention, why don't you give the Avengers here a little demonstration."
You obediently stood up, and Steve watched with wide eyes as you walked towards the Director through the heavy conference table, your fingers skimming just below the surface of the metal tabletop. Your gait was easy and relaxed, as if you were just going for a walk in the park. When you reached the other end, you stood behind an empty chair and pushed it a couple of feet in front of you so that it, too, slid through the conference table, encountering no resistance whatsoever. Then you pulled the chair out of the table and sat down on it.
“Okay, that’s pretty cool,” Tony remarked, leaning back and staring at you.
You grinned. “It is, isn’t it?”
Fury tapped at his tablet and your personnel profile filled the screens again.
"After the Incident, Y/L/N expressed an interest in moving to field work, and we’ve been training her up for the past several months." He scrolled down through your work history to details about your training and skill set, revealing that beyond the basic self-defence training that all S.H.I.E.L.D. employees received, you had gone through additional weapons, combat and espionage training as well. "She’s just about ready for active duty. But given her capabilities, I figured I'd leave the finishing touches to you."
He clapped a heavy hand on the back of your chair and looked down at you. "You gonna be able to handle that, Y/L/N?" he asked
"Yes, sir," you replied, steadily meeting his gaze. “I’m ready.”
Fury gave you a satisfied nod. “Then welcome to the Avengers,” he said. “I’ll leave you in these capable hands.”
He began to walk out of the briefing room, but just as he reached the door, he paused and eyeballed every single person in the room.
"Don't mess this up," he warned before sweeping out.
Steve couldn't tell whether the comment was directed more at you or the three others seated at the table.
Silence descended for a moment, and Steve noted that you seemed a little nervous now: you were sitting up very straight with tense shoulders, your hands folded neatly in your lap.
Tony was the one who broke the awkwardness. "Well, nice to have you on board, Casper," he said airily, raising his glass to you.
Though Steve didn't recognise the reference, he could see you relaxing a little at Tony's light-hearted salutation, an amused smirk forming on your face.
"Casper? Really?” you asked, wrinkling your nose a little. “Seems a little… childish.”
“How about the Ghost of Christmas Past?” Tony suggested with a grin.
You laughed. “Oh, definitely not. Even if I could, there’s no way I’d take you on a magical mystery tour of the defining psychological moments of your youth. I’ve heard way too many stories about you. We’d both be scarred."
Steve expelled a surprised huff of laughter. You glanced at him and flashed a bright smile, and he felt his lips quirking up automatically in response.
From the corner of his eye he saw Natasha shift, and he turned his head slightly to find her watching him with narrowed eyes and the beginnings of a smirk on her face. He shot her a look that said What?, but she just gave a minute shake of her head and turned her attention to you.
"Don't worry. If you need a codename, we won't let Tony pick it," Natasha said, rolling her eyes at the man in question, who raised his hands in a Who, me? gesture. "We can work out something better by the time we've gotten you up to speed and up to scratch."
“Thank God,” you sighed in mock relief. “For the record, I’m vetoing Inky, Pinky, Blinky or Clyde as well. They can’t even get through walls anyway.”
Steve glanced at Natasha in confusion, and she shrugged. Tony, meanwhile, let out a chuckle. “I think I’m gonna like you,” he said, pointing a finger at you.
You grinned and leaned forward to rest your arms on the table, and Steve noted that the banter seemed to have put you at ease.
"Okay, so, speaking of getting me up to speed and up to scratch,” you said, looking around the table at the three Avengers. “Where do we start?"
“Oh, I’m sure Cap’s thinking up a plan,” Tony said breezily, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “I mean, he is, technically, in charge.”
You turned to Steve. “Well then, I’m all yours, Captain Rogers,” you said cheerfully.
There was nothing flirtatious in your tone at all, but even so, the sound of those words being spoken by an attractive woman did not leave him entirely unaffected.
He was careful to keep a neutral expression as he told you mildly, “You can just call me Steve.”
“Sorry. Steve,” you corrected yourself. He thought he caught a flicker of something a little softer in your eyes, but it was gone before he could identify it.
You smiled at him again, that playful spark he had seen earlier lighting up your face, and as he found himself unable to resist smiling back at you, he thought, This is going to be interesting.