he who hesitates is toast

She's rarely been so grateful for Peggy Carter's practicality and stiff upper lip as she is now. Her aunt folds and sets aside the clothes Sharon sheds, and waits as Sharon zips into the familiar white catsuit, the fabric clinging to her body. Her boots come next, then her utility belt and thigh holster.

Last is her phone, powered on the way it had been when she arrived, the precious new photo saved in a series of places on it.

Finished, she looks up at her aunt, who studies her back for a long moment before stepping in to embrace her, silent and warm. Sharon clings to her as long as she can, before Aunt Peggy pulls away with a slight sniff. "Come along, darling," she murmurs. "They're expecting us."

The scene at the field is bizarre in the extreme. Howard's assistants are clustered around Bucky, Stark himself fiddling with a box at the edge of the treeline. She hears footsteps behind her and sees Harry Jackson come huffing along the path, a strange gun in his arms. "Is that – " Sharon starts, as Peggy's hand comes to her arm.

One of the weapons they'd liberated from the Skull. It must be. And as she watches Harry carry it over to Howard, she realizes how they're planning to try and emulate the power source that brought her here.