Chapter Text
Alfred F. Jones, otherwise known as the personification of the United States of America, was pacing back and forth in the Oval Office, almost bouncing in excitement. It took very little to catch his attention, and when his boss confirmed the details to him afterwards, it took all he had to not rocket out of his seat and kiss the man senseless, or at least give a very unmanly squeal of delight.
He was finally going to meet a living legend. His namesake.
Captain Freaking America.
To be honest, Alfred had wanted to join the war himself as a soldier, but it was deemed too dangerous by Frankie at that time. He wasn’t a normal man, heck, he was a nation, and he needed to be close to the capital to tell his people what was going on, what he felt was going on, especially when Pearl Harbor was bombed. They couldn’t risk him, his very existence was a well-kept secret in the government. But it was when Abraham Erksine and Howard Stark met him, known who he really was, that inspired the military to initiate Project: Rebirth, the creation of supersoldiers that would have enhanced abilities, while keeping to the ideals he believed in. He offered up his own blood for the serum when they couldn’t find anything to stabilize the equation, anything to keep his people safe, and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard it was successful. In other words, he was the one who created Captain America.
And he was thrilled.
“Alfred, calm down.” His current boss was watching him pace back and forth, rubbing his temple with his fingers, exasperated. “It’s just the Captain, there’s no need to be so –”
“But Boss!” Shining, puppy blue eyes trained on him and the president exhaled a long-suffering breath. “It’s the Cap! Honest to goodness Captain America! Oh God, I have his entire comic book collection.” Alfred said reverently, “And the trading cards. Those were completely vintage, I bought them in… the 1960’s, I think? Can’t remember.” He stopped pacing and turned to the other man, almost hyperventilating and just a shade away from outright fanboying. “And he’s going with Iron Man and-and oh, oh! Cap’s shield! I have to put it on. He’s awesome. They’re all awesome.” He continued feverishly, slamming his hands on the desk and almost snapping it in half. “I can’t wait to meet them!”
“Just remember to… act not like yourself, all right?” The president tried to gently pry away Alfred’s hands on his desk, wincing when he heard the telltale crack. Have to get another desk again. Why did he have a nation that acted like a complete child and had the strength of ten grown men? “Remember, you can’t reveal who you really are. SHIELD is tracking this conversation as we speak, Director Fury’s not going to be pleased when he finds out you messed with his charges’ heads.”
“Aw, Fury’s a cockblock.” Alfred groaned, throwing his hands back and pouting. Half the fun was telling people who he was. “I mean, what’s the big deal? They’re technically protecting me, so they deserve to know the country they’re kicking ass for!”
“Language, Alfred.” The man stood up and faced him, face turning gentle. “I know it’s hard, but it’s for your own safety. Tony Stark is a scientist now, if he finds out your real nature there’s no guarantee that he wouldn’t… pry for more information.”
“I’d so let him experiment on me any day.” Alfred paused. “Wait, that sounds completely wrong, god.” But he sighed, conceding the point. “But you’re right. I have to protect the other’s identities, and all that.” He could only imagine the trashing he would get from Arthur, Ludwig and the rest of the world if he did. “So! When are they coming?” He was back to his cheerful self.
The sound of the ringing telephone interrupted the conversation, and Alfred held his breath as the other man answered it, silent, and placing down the receiver when it’s done, still silent and thoughtful.
“Well?” He asked impatiently when the other man didn’t show any urge to speak anytime soon.
The president of the United States of America looked at his country’s personification, and smiled.
“They’re here.”
Steve Rogers fidgeted in his complete military coat, pacing back and forth on the hangar of the Hellcarrier. This was completely, utterly insane, going to the White House just to have tea with the President? It was completely unheard of. In all the time he served in the military he had never met anyone that high up before, Senator Brandt was the highest, as well a few one-star generals. Had he managed to come out from the Arctic Circle unharmed he would’ve been made into a two-star general, or so the agents told him, for valour and courage, and that they needed more men like him directing the troops around.
“Capsicle, calm your muscled tits.” Tony Stark leaned on the wheels of the Quinjet, a drink in hand, smirking, and was completely amused seeing the blond move about. “Relax, it’s just a meeting with the Prez.” He said lazily, shades on and wearing his nicest, most expensive suit, Armani of course.
“The president of the United States of America.” Steve ignored the first sentence because he didn’t know what it meant, probably another pop culture thing that he didn’t understand, but stopped and gave Tony a pointed look, crossing his arms. “This is a very important meeting, can you please try to be serious for once?”
“No promises, it’s fun seeing you hopping around like a bunny on steroids, though.” Tony snickered and downed his drink, before walking up to him and placing a hand on Steve’s shoulders. “Steve. Relax. Breathe. It’s just the president, it’s not the end of the world.” He said firmly. “You’ve punched Hitler 200 times, this is going to be a piece of homemade apple pie.”
“But Tony–” Steve protested, only to be met by the billionaire’s sound listen-to-me-now look.
“Shush. Keep quiet or you’ll ruin your ancient old-man uniform.” Tony patted down the creases on Steve’s pristine, neatly pressed Eisenhower jacket. It was completely vintage, and surprisingly genuine, and Tony had to be impressed on just how much time SHIELD had spent trying to hunt down this particular WWII service uniform, it was all but extinct nowadays. And it was suited and tailored to fit the Captain like a glove. “We can’t meet the Prez if you keep acting like a spaz.”
“Have you met him already?” Tony was so loose, so casual about the whole thing, that Steve felt an unreasonable urge to be both envious and resentful of him. But it was a childish thought, and Steve pushed it away as quickly as it came.
“Well… no.” Tony eventually admitted. “I was supposed to, but the military has deemed me too unimportant and inconsequential to meet the guy who practically commissions me to build weapons for them. Well, back then.” That and the fact that he had a reputation that was closer to being a socialite and a playboy than a respectable citizen of the USA. The higher-ups probably didn’t want the big guy to know how much those stories were true and that they couldn’t handle their own weapons developer. He smirked. “But no worries. I mean, he’s going to be replaced by another fucker in a few years or so, so I’m not too attached.”
Steve’s brow immediately crinkled at the inventor’s choice of words. “Language, Tony.” But there was no denying that he was impeccably dressed and handsome, Tony was no slouch in the looks department either, but there was something about men in uniform that made people look more appealing. All the more if he looked like he was made to use it. “But… all right, I might be overacting a little.” He said sheepishly.
“Little nothing, you’re having kittens all over this thing.” Tony snorted. “Steve, you’re Captain America. If anything, he should be the one bowing over to you because if not for you he might not even be in office. Just keep calm and do this like you would do a mission, all right?” He suggested, anything to keep Steve still, because he was starting to get dizzy. “Be cool and be the Cap.”
Treat it like a mission. Tony, surprisingly, could give good advice. He could the tension in his body draining away. “All right…” Steve gave the other man a tentative smile. Simple enough. “Thank you, Tony.”
“No problem, Capsicle.” He grinned, tapping Steve on the back. “There’s a good soldier, now buckle up and pull yourself together.”
“Captain, Stark.” Agent Coulson appeared suddenly, still in his crisp suit and tie, finishing talking on his phone and looked at the two of them. “The preparations are finished; we’re heading for the White House now.”
Tony scowled and gave Coulson a glare when Steve jumped and started pacing again, muttering under his breath.
So much for all his hard work.