Bruce leaned back in his chair. Natasha and Fury had left us alone a few minutes ago, and he was about to re-tell me everything, from how I came to be here.

"Claire Reynolds was a twenty-one year old Law Student, who was born in San Antonio and studied at Stanford University in California. About a year ago Claire was on holiday with her parents and younger sister in New York, when their car crashed by the Empire State building. Claire's parents were killed on impact and described as dead on the scene, but the two girls were taken to a nearby hospital. Claire's sister, Anna was shocky by well enough to go home after a few days, and she went back to California to live with her Aunt and Uncle."

"And Claire?" I asked, feeling my voice shake. "I mean... Me?"

"Claire's - Your condition was incredibly unstable, and the doctors were surprised you even survived the trip to the hospital. You slipped into a coma by the time you got there, and you died early the next morning."

I felt my insides get cold. "Then how am I still here?"

He smiled. "Your IQ level is rated as being Profoundly Gifted - a rating of 180. Scientists just couldn't let that go to waste. For years before the accident doctors had been developing a serum, and a strategy to change a persons molecular and bio-physical structure, to make them a more impressive person. Stronger, faster, better reflexes, and more intelligent."

He smiled gently. "Getting all this?"

I nodded, and he continued.

"Now, This treatment had already been done on fifty patients, all with IQ's far lower than yours. I think the highest was 150. The patient's brains all rejected the treatment. They rejected the electro-pulses designed to stimulate brain function. However, your brain picked it up. When it came to your mind, the treatment worked. Your gene pool was re-worked, and your molecular structure was very slightly altered to your body could cope with the changes. However, there are some... Side effects..."

"Like what?"

He sighed, " Acidic blood is one. Your blood can burn through most objects, as a defensive mechanism. Your skin is also puncture tolerant. Not completely bullet-proof or knife proof, but it's far thicker than normal skin, except for your jugular artery and the veins in the crook of your arm." he smiled faintly.

"Claire, you're a twenty-first century Steve Rogers. You aren't even supposed to be here, let alone with all these modifications. You're our little miracle."

"Fury said all this had already been explained to me. How come I don't remember?"

He shrugged, "It was just after you'd woken up. I told Tony that too much information would overload your brain. Your body couldn't cope with those facts, and pushed them out. But now..." He shrugged, "We'll just have to see if you can cope with it now."

"Thanks Bruce." I stood up and smiled, leaving the room and standing in the cool hallway for a few minutes before making my way back to my room.

---

I was almost back at my room when I walked past Steve's open door. I poked my head around the corner. Old 1940's music was playing from a stereo, and I could see papers scattered across a desk. It didn't look like Steve was home.

I took a few steps inside, glancing around and moving over to the desk. There were pictures of Publicity Stunts and Chorus Girls, and one picture of what looked like Steve. I peered closer and held it up to the light, frowning. The face was certainly Steve's, but the body was all wrong. This guy was skinny and short, seeming to be dwarfed by his surroundings. I felt my lips raise into a smile, remembering him telling me something about the Super Soldier Serum that turned him into the man he was now.

"See you found 1940's Steve then,"

I turned sharply at the sound of his quiet voice, and blushed. "I'm sorry - I shouldn't have come in without your-"

"It's fine." He laughed gently and brushed away my apology, moving closer and plucking the photo from my hands. He looked down at it for a few moments, seemingly lost in the memories he must have had.

"You were cute." I said, breaking the silence. He looked up at me, surprised.

"Excuse me?"

"Back then, Skinny Steve." I smiled warmly. "You were cute."

He laughed and shrugged, "You're just about the only person who's ever thought that, let alone say it."

I smiled, "Guess I'm just an odd sort of girl."

He looked at me, meeting my gaze with his icy blue one, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. "I wouldn't call you odd. Out of the ordinary, yes."

"Ordinary's boring."

He shrugged and placed the photo back on the table. "I guess you're right."

I looked back at the table, and spotted another photo. "Pretty girl." I murmured, pointing.

Steve coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh... Yes."

I picked it up and looked at it. Curly dark hair, red lips and dark eyes that held just a hint of a smile. I could see Steve falling for her.

"Peggy." he murmured from behind me, and I looked up at him. He didn't seem to even know I was there. It was just him and the picture.

I sighed and handed it to him. He took it gratefully, murmured a soft 'thank you' without looking at me. I could see when I was interrupting something, and left.

---

"Peggy Carter." Fury mulled over the name, watching me from across his desk, before shrugging. "Sure, I can dig up some stuff on her for you. Why'd you need it?"

"Just research." I stood up and smiled at him. A gesture which he didn't return. "Well, thanks Fury."

I got to the door and opened it when he called my name.

"Is this for Cap?"

I looked back at him and shrugged, biting my lip.

"Because if it is, I think it's a mistake."

"I'm a big girl Fury, I can make my own mistakes."

"Yeah, but you might not be the one that gets hurt from this mistake."

I stared at him for a moment, frowning, before leaving the room and closing the door behind me.