It didn't surprise her that they were keeping her under lock and key. There were certain procedures that she needed to go through, medical checks and orientations so that she understood the basics of the world around her but their attempts at keeping her secure were laughable.

If she wished, she could escape. Technology might abound but she had human caretakers who seemed to think she was frail and helpless. And Peggy knew the advantage of cultivating that image in case she did need to resort to breaking out of the apartment.

She was fussing around the apartment, bored and restless when she heard someone behind her. Not one of the agents that acted as her caretaker since they announced their presence well in advance. Automatically, she reached for one of the sleek statuettes that decorated the room, freezing when she heard a his voice.

Peggy knew he was alive. She'd seen the newscasts and read the articles online. Watched his heroics on websites over and over until the disbelief faded to something bearable.

Slowly, she uncurled her fingers from her improvised weapon, taking a steadying breath before turning. It still hurt. The shock of seeing him alive and safe catching painfully in her chest. For a moment, she struggled for something to say, then familiar words tumbled free. "You're late."