I should have a seat, should I? I'll be the judge of that.
[ peg counters—whip quick and more than a little bit obstinate. and, yes, she is perhaps being contrary on little more than principle. but look at him! standing there, bold as brass, and cutting a figure like every missed opportunity she's ever imagined.
with a sigh of her own, she takes his hat and she takes his jacket and she hangs it on a row of hooks next to some of her own things: an umbrella, a silk scarf, a wool coat. but there's something telling in how her fingertips linger on his jacket sleeve, as though she tries to leech warmth—proof of life—from its cloth.
five years...five years! she can't conceive of which assumption is the better one: that he's been lost and captured all this time or whether he's been perfectly safe but not with her.
showing absolutely no intention of sitting down, peggy progresses instead to removing her blazer. rather than hang it up, she tosses it nonchalantly on the back of a chair in her small, modest front room. she proceeds to roll up her sleeves—appearing all the more thunderous for it when she places her hands on her hips. ]
—You're not the only one who's dreamed about this.
[ so goes peggy carter: saying sweet, heartfelt words but spitting them out as if they're venom. it's a confession disguised as an accusation. her lips purse; her eyes darken. ]
[ Stubborn just like always. Even in her older age she was stubborn. She never hesitated to call Steve out on things when she was coherent. He hasn't seen this though in a while. The physical rigid movements. The stance. The way she takes his things to hang them on the hooks. It's all just--her. Steve's probably a little too in touch with his feelings, but Peggy was difficult. She always had him turned around trying to figure out what was between them. Just because Steve understood his feelings didn't mean he understood a damn thing about women. He still doesn't.
For a moment he glances back over his shoulder to watch her hang his things. The muscles in his back tighten as she touches his jacket. It's gentle and something he knows she doesn't want him bringing up or addressing. He's quiet instead and just nods. He turns back to focus ahead of him and despite no longer being in the military he somehow finds himself standing alert. It's strange what muscle memory does. His brain takes one look at her and he knows he needs to remain level headed. For the moment.
He hasn't seen this sort of anger and frustration since Private Lorraine. He's sincerely hoping she doesn't have a gun close at hand. Steve stashed his shield elsewhere in an attempt to blend in. Cant walk around holding that shield and trying to convince people you aren't the long lost superhero that went MIA years ago. ]
If I could have gotten back to you sooner, Peggy, I would have. But at that moment I didn't have the ability to roll back time. [ This isn't how he wanted to do it, but he needs her to know that he didn't abandon her. He didn't go AWOL simply to live a normal life. He had his dream ripped away from him. ] I couldn't get back seventy years to be with you. I wanted to though. I wanted to so badly. [ His voice gets softer. ] I'm sorry.
[ he makes it personal. he says, he describes, how he ought to have gotten back to her sooner. steve crashes straight through the thin veil separating the personal and the professional with his own individual brand of earnestness and integrity—talking like he’s got no choice but to bare the truth of the matter, no choice but to imply that his decision was made with any organ besides his heart.
she clears her throat—having nearly choked on the claim that time had, in any capacity, been rolled back. so peggy hides behind her investigative faculties: one moment he talks about five years, and the next he talks about seventy.
but it all evaporates when he apologizes. her brows knit; her stance shifts. ]
I’ve got three questions. To start.
[ isn’t that her temper abates—far far from it—but she finds a different thrust. peggy stands, staring starkly at him for another three heartbeats, before turning on a heel and disappearing (briefly!) into a small study attached to the front room.
when she reappears, it’s with a cylindrical case—leather and beaten. she continues to talk as she fumbles with its latch. ]
First, is it five years or is it seventy? [ her gaze dips; a flush of something comes across her face as she focuses on the case instead of steve. ] Second, where the devil is the shield? Howard put too much work into it for you to go and lose it…
[ aha! she pops open the case and, with a touch too much energy, spreads a series of maritime maps on (of all places) the small squat table in her living room. ]
Third—show me where the Valkyrie is.
[ alright, alright, so the third question is more of a direct order. she barks it while pointing at the charts, shoulders heaving with just a bit too much breath. ]
[ This is worse than what happened after Private Lorraine kissed him. That was anger and revenge. This is anger, grief, confusion, fear and everything you could possibly experience rolled into one. She's going in a million directions right now. He can tell. She chooses to go with the emotion and the direction she knows. Logical. She wants to make sense of things. She wants to figure out what the hell he's talking about and put some facts and figures there. She's not Howard, but feelings were never Peggy Carter's thing. Not that she didn't have them, but she didn't wear her heart on her sleeve like Steve once had when they knew one another.
She comes at him with three questions. Questions that do propose an issue when she goes and returns with maps. He can answer two of these questions, but he's wary on answering the third. Because if she knows the location she will go looking for him. She has to leave Steve there. No matter what instinct says he has to stay in the ice. Which probably means he can never tell Howard. Peggy might be easier to talk into not going there, but Howard would never let it go. Ever. ]
Shield's fine. I hid it when I arrived. I didn't want the world to see me back before I could talk to you and Howard. [ It would make things complicated. ] It's been five years for you since I crashed the Valkyrie into the ice, Peggy. [ Steve doesn't go near the maps. He opts to sit on the couch though and leans back into the cushions with a sigh. ] I stayed in the ice for nearly seventy years. Best guess is the serum and the ice kept me alive and preserved. When they found me it was too late for us.
[ He leans forward after a beat and looks at the maps. ]
I can't tell you where the Valkyrie is. You can't go there Peggy. I'm still in the ice. I have to stay in the ice.
[ it irks her, just a little, that he responds out of order. there’s no real sin in it—of course there isn’t—but peggy is spoiling for things to raise her indignation, and that was always always a particularly robust skill of his: mattering enough, to her, to slink under her skin and make her itch.
slowly, gradually, she pieces together an outlandish hypothesis from what he tells her: he was found, after decades, and he wasn’t able to roll back time. as the thought crosses her mind, she sucks a hard breath through her teeth. something burns behind her eyes.
it’s been theorized, surely, but no one’s done it. not outside of an h.g. wells novel, at any rate.
peggy rakes a hand through her curls, mussing them from their careful setting. ]
That’s a sophisticated piece of weaponry, [ she argues—talking about the valkyrie, it would seem, and not the supersoldier. ] It can’t simply be left there under the assumed good faith that no one else will find it for… [ the number hits home; her heart hurts ] seventy years.
[ seventy years. peggy does the math, it’s second nature to her, and…much to her chagrin, she sinks to take a defeated seat on a nearby chaise. ]
[ He had to answer out of order. The shield was the least important thing. Everything else she asked tied together forcing him to launch into his explanation. He needed to tell her. Needed to get it out. She was never going to just let any of this lie. She would demand answers. She would go digging for them. It was best to get everything out there and then try to answer questions when she presented them. She'll have questions too. There's been a lot of things that have happened. As long as she doesn't go looking for the Valkyrie then they'll be fine. He can't run into his past self. There's no telling what would happen.
Watching her try to process this is devastating. Steve can see the look on her face when she processes the time he's in the ice. Left on his own. She doesn't let it hit though. She doubles down with demanding to know where the Valkyrie is. It's safe where it is. There's absolutely no way to find it without knowing where to look. SHIELD was able to eventually locate it, but that took years. He doesn't think anyone will just stumble upon it. ]
SHIELD will find it. They find the plane and eventually they find me as well. They're responsible for thawing me out. The plane is safe and won't fall into the wrong hands.
[ Not entirely. Technically HYDRA infiltrates SHIELD, but they do handle that situation. He's not sure if he needs to tell her about that now. What would change if Steve went after HYDRA now. Just now starting to get it's claws into things. Worming it's way into command structures. ]
It's been closer to over eighty years by now. It wasn't until recently we figured some things out. It's how I was able to come back. To you.
[ she flinches—visibly—when he names her fledgling operation. when it had come time to create something better, stronger, safer than the ssr, peggy had spent a long time hesitating over what to call it. shield, its acronym, was the last lock secured on the lockbox of her grief. she feels almost childish, now, to hear it come out of his mouth.
it’s a little like having one’s diary found, and the intruder opens it up to a page with someone else’s name surrounded by hearts. this, of all things, causes her cheeks to flush with emotion. she may be sitting, now, but it’s with a stiff back and with coiled energy at her command. she might pop to her feet at any moment. ]
Who the devil is ‘we’?
[ she redirects her discomfort, her loss, her guilt, all of it into this one question. someone found him—and it wasn’t her, and she can’t quite come to terms with that realization just yet. she can vividly remember the day she sat howard down and persuaded him to call off his search.
and she can recall a tearful beseeching, over the radio, as she tried to break through fenhoff’s hypnosis. they had to let him go. ]
[ When he was told about SHIELD and who founded it there was a part of Steve that felt like it broke away. Like it floated away back to a time and place where he still had her in his arms. The first and last kiss in the middle of chaos. She held onto pieces of Steve throughout her years. She kept him close the only way she knew how. He recalls his photo on her desk farther along in her timeline. The only photo she actually had of Steve. He wished he had left her more to hold onto. Not just what he had done for the world. She deserved so much more.
But Peggy shifts gears just as quickly as he expected. She shifts into questioning about we. Now comes the complicated part of explaining things to her. The Avengers are difficult to really put into words. He doesn't want to go into details about everyone because they'll never get off the subject. Banner. Natasha. Thor. Just to name a few. Thor alone will keep her occupied with questions. Tony will make her head spin. He makes a conscious decision to not explain who the members are. He doesn't need to lead her there. ]
My team. They figured out how to go back in time. Something happened and we needed to go back in order to stop it. [ Vague. But simple. ] Once we did that they charged me with going back to fix a few things. [ Drop off Infinity Stones. Again. Vague. ] When we went back originally we went back to a place and time where you were. I saw you. After that I decided I didn't wanna let you go again. Someone told me to be happy. When things were put right I decided to follow their advice.
[ it’s a heavily redacted account of what had happened and who had been involved—she can tell by his pauses, by the words he says and the words he doesn’t say, by the avenues he preemptively tries to shut off from her. and she sees them, there, like scabs she desperately wants to pick. but for all her fire and fury, she does care enough—cares enough about him—to set some, many, all of those particular questions on a shelf for a later hour.
what matters right now, what matters most, is the circumstance currently staring her down: steve is alive and here and returned to her. gratitude tips in his favour.
but only slightly. ]
Sounds as if you lot mucked it up on the first try. [ she comments, mildish, before crossing her legs at the ankles. ] If you had to go…back. To fix a few things. [ she tastes out the rhetoric, tries it on her tongue, and wrinkles her nose. ]
I can’t pretend to even begin to understand the implications of what you’re saying.
[ a beat. ]
—But tell me. Are you happy?
[ now that he’s here, now that he’s made his grand return, now that he’s sent her head and heart into a frenzy. it’s likely the most important question she’s asked since recognizing him. ]
[ Honestly? They did mess up a bit. Which is why they wound up in the seventies to begin with. Steve saw her and he knew he couldn't just lose her again. He lost her twice already. One when he crashed the plane and the second time when he helped carry her casket at the funeral. He's going to hold onto that piece of information though because there's absolutely no way that telling her when she died at one point. Who knows what will happen? He doesn't intend to change the big things, but there's no telling what will happen for them. He can only hope he gets a long happy life with her.
Steve smiles. He knows she's not insulting the team. She's actually stating a fact while trying to suss more details from him. She wants him to get defensive and try to explain the situation a little better. Steve doesn't know. There's no use in diving into what Thanos did to the world and how they needed to undo it. Not within the first hour of them seeing one another. He's trying to save the things that will leave her with questions for days for another time. Maybe when Howard is here as well. Telling everything twice will be a lot.
The question actually catches Steve off guard. He didn't think she'd ask that. Especially after his explanation. He looks at her long and hard from his spot on the couch. The smile on his face is almost dreamy. ] I was scared when I arrived. [ Scared that she might reject him. He still is. It's been eighty years and he still knows absolutely nothing about women. ] But from the moment I saw you standing on your porch drinking your tea--[ He shakes his head with a soft laugh. ]--I was the happiest I'd been since the day you kissed me.
[ it’s—a lot. hearing him own up to fear of any flavour. her lips press together; her gaze averts. peggy eyes the untouched maps and tries to rouse some extra fire in her belly over the fact that he hadn’t answered her as promptly or as cleanly as she’d hoped he would. but it’s difficult to be too too angry when he follows up his answer with…
well, with something breathtaking.
her chin drops and she pinches the bridge of her nose. now, just now, she feels herself tread dangerously close to tearing up. but with a gentle pat against her own cheek and determined hum, she buries that instinct as well. ]
I’m at a loss. [ she admits. for words, for reactions, for all of it. ] Not to mention late for the office.
[ with a groan, with a sigh, she hauls herself back to her feet and crosses over to a telephone near the front hall. it’s rotary, and she watches him like a hawk while she dials a number suspiciously longer than a standard phone number. ]
[ After Thanos and everything that happened it's hard for Steve to shut down his vulnerability sometimes. What happened stripped Steve raw. He couldn't stop it. They couldn't stop it. Not at first. They've course corrected since then, but Steve still carries the guilt of five years where half the population was just gone. Families separated by a single snap of one monster's fingers. It's a conversation they'll need to have. The Snap. But there will no doubt be a whole slew of other topics that they touch on before they get into that.
His words hang in the air for what feels like an eternity. He knew that coming here was the biggest risk he could take. Not because he'd be stranded, but because she could completely have no desire to pursue what was taken from them. It could be too much for her. He wouldn't blame her if that's how it went. It's also not every day that a man comes back from the future because he's come to the conclusion that his happiness could stem just from having you back in his life. Probably very overwhelming to know.
For a moment he's not sure where she's going. She stands up and starts to move. He thinks for a moment she's going for her briefcase and plans to leave. Steve pushes himself to his feet, but he doesn't move. Instead she goes to the telephone and he watches her. She could be doing two things. Calling out or planning to tell people Captain America has returned.
He doesn't speak. Instead he just watches her with far more intensity than he likely should be. He's still. An observer to this new life she has. ]
[ her toe taps. and just as he stares at her intently, peggy carter stares straight back. she studies every inch of him that’s visible—from the too-tight shirt to a pair of shoes that don’t (in fashionable terms) exactly match the rest of his outfit. she begins to deduce more of the current situation—wherever he’d come from, whenever he’d come from, he’d come with little else prepared. he’d stashed the shield, as he’d said, and then he’d…what? changed his clothing? unless this sort of mismatched too-tight look was in vogue come the 21st century.
peggy’s nose crinkles at the thought. she’s never complained about the sight of him in a taut, tight tshirt—but it’s hard to dredge up that appreciation in a moment like this one.
finally! the phone line clicks to life. she rattles off a series of numbers and greek letters, presumably some manner of priority passcode, and cradles the phone against her shoulder as she waits some more. on hold with her own office! christ alive. ]
[ there are things she wants to say, but she doesn’t dare say them so long as the phone is off its cradle. peggy doesn’t believe her home line is bugged, but in reality she can’t be certain of anything. best to save it, for now, until…
aha! a human voice, a trusty deputy, and peggy turns her body just so, forcing steve to stare at her in profile only. her voice is quiet, but still quite easy to make out even if he didn’t have heightened senses: ]
Something important came up with the Panama dossier. I won’t be in—no, no, I won’t need any spare hands, either. Yes. Cheers. [ a pause; a slight proud smile, presumably in response to something she’d just been told. ] Give her my best, Latimer. Oh! And when Stark finally drags his sorry carcass into the lab, have him give us a ring. On the home line, yes. [ … ] You as well.
[ peggy sets the receiver back on its cradle. ]
You’ll need to come up with some better answers. [ she turns back to face him. ] Eventually.
[ He wouldn't blame her if she wanted to tell someone about this. Howard would be the immediate choice. He's well aware of how long the man spent looking for him. He didn't deserve to be kept in the dark, but for right now he had to be. At some point maybe he could think about telling him, but who knows how that would even go. He doesn't want to completely ruin history. Yet here he stands in Peggy's knowing everything he does about her future. She marries. She has a family. She has a life and it's a really good one. Some part of him thinks he's making a mistake by thrusting himself into her life like this, but the other part is selfish for once. It's not often Steve Rogers lets himself have what he wants when others have the potential to get hurt.
She doesn't say anything about his arrival. She informs whoever she's speaking with of her absence for the day and that's that. His chest tightens just a bit when she mentions Howard. It's different knowing that one of his closest friends is alive now. He'd grown so used to living without them that having them both back was strange. Once she hangs up the phone and turns back to him Steve feels the nerves gather up inside of him. She looks at him sometimes and he's right back in bootcamp. She had this way of making men shrink with her gaze when she wanted. He hasn't given her a single solid answer and eventually he will have to give her something. He's just not sure what's safe. ]
I know. In time. [ Steve nods and his jaw tightens as a question pops into his head. He's not quite sure if asking this is fair, but he wants to know. She posed it to him and it's only going to sit in the back of his mind eating away at him until he decides to ask her. ] Are you? [ It occurs to him that he wasn't really that clear with his question. ] Are you happy? [ Though he leaves the question like that. Is he asking if she's happy that he's back? Is he asking if she's happy in general before his arrival? She could really take it a hundred different ways if she wanted. ]
as steve asks his question, it doesn’t cut like the knife she’d expected it to be—instead, it’s like a persistent sprouted seed, pushing its tender green shoots up through craggy concrete. it’s a bloom of something warm and new like a kind of bonus love navigating its way through dirt and ash.
yesterday, peggy could have described herself as plenty of things: accomplished, busy, racing towards satisfaction. however, happy would never have been among the adjectives—not because she was unhappy but because happiness was never meant to be part of the equation. not since losing him.
she sucks in a careful breath. peggy knows what he wants to hear (what he needs to hear) and withholds it until she scrapes from him a bit more intel. ]
Are you staying?
[ she answers his question with another question. the subtext is so obvious it’s painful: yes, she could be happy—is he here to deliver that happiness to her, gift-wrapped and overdue? ]
[ Steve would have never really classified as entirely happy back home. He was sort of just surviving. Even before the government turned him into public enemy number one. Steve was going through the motions. He was just trying to keep his head down and do what he thought needed to be done. Nothing really brought him as much joy as he got from standing in her presence. He loved his team like family, but even they could determine that Steve Rogers was a man without a life beyond his work. Missions were easier to focus on than anything outside of that world. His emotional wellbeing really wasn't an actual priority. There were instances where maybe he thought he could make the puzzle pieces fit, but ultimately it was a lie.
When she slipped away from him a second time it hurt more than words could have ever actually expressed. Seeing Natasha was a small miracle because at the time Steve just wanted to let himself fall apart right there in the church. Right now he's been given a third chance at some form of happiness. Something that people urged him to chase after when he could. Not returning home would no doubt leave the others in a state of confusion, but he knew that they'd understand in the end. Especially Bucky. He saw Steve when he was around her. He knew how the man seemed to float whenever she even looked in this direction.
The question catches him off guard, but he really thinks about it then it makes the most sense. He had left her. If she felt even half of what he had then his absence had been like a weight pressing on her heart. A painful ache that could be ignored, but it would always remain. He smiles for just a moment as he watches her. ]
Yes. I didn't plan on going back. I used my way home to get back here.
[ He stranded himself in the hopes that she would believe him and take him back into her life. Not the smartest Captain America plan, but he's a little rusty. ]
Are you okay with that? Guess it's a little presumptuous of me to do that.
[ presumptuous is putting it lightly. peggy isn’t an expert in this sort of thing (far from it) but it seems as though steve had cracked apart some fundamental law—some rule—of the universe so that he could return.
return to her.
her comfortable sitting room, the one that had always felt much too large for only her, suddenly feels cramped—claustrophobic, almost. or maybe she should blame the heat gathering under her collar. steve is staying, always intended to stay, and articulates as much with all the same swagger as the man who’d marched back into base camp with a band of rescued prisoners behind him.
peggy smiles. it’s small but so very real. ]
It’ll do.
[ she uses understatement like a crutch—taking strides toward him but staying ever-so-almost out of reach, ignoring the temptation to grab for him. ]
[ There was absolutely a strong chance that she could turn him away if he showed up. Her life is her own and he was the one showing up to make everything more complicated. He would stay here though and if he had to simply watch her be happy with someone else than he would do it. He wanted to be here. He wanted to be back with her and to some degree he missed Howard. He was stripped from his world and injected into a new one that ran out of places for people like him. Steve tried his hardest to force himself to fit, but he was like a misshapen puzzle piece at times. He just couldn't push himself in there and work. He would miss his team, but ultimately this was always going to be the right fit for him. It had Peggy.
That smile doesn't need to be ten miles wide. It's enough to make him mimic her with his own joy. It's the first time she hasn't looked completely flustered and confused at his presence. She may not have all the facts and she probably never would. They couldn't go and find him in the ice no matter how much her or Howard would eventually want to. He had to stay there. He also couldn't go and get Bucky. He thought about it a lot, but how different of a branch would that create. He wouldn't be able to tell them what happened if he skewed things. His reality would branch off from the one he once knew. It was going to be something he would indeed grapple with the longer he stayed here in this time period.
When she starts to move towards him it's not expected. Steve's muscles grow taut and he waits for something to happen. Mostly he's waiting for that right hook. Some sort of frustration being vented. It's not like he left her with all the answers. She doesn't completely close the gap when she comes to a halt. Instead she stands before Steve and announces he's been missed. He doesn't speak. He's not sure if he needs to right now. They've sort of danced around each other for most of this meeting. In a way it's the most Peggy way to announce that she'd missed him. Crisp and clear. ]
I've missed you too. Never could find the right dancing partner.
[ True he did have her with him for a few years, but the Peggy he was talking to in that nursing home wasn't her. It was her, but things were missing. He counted himself lucky though because she was just there. It was enough to keep Steve going and keep him sane at times. When she died a huge part of his stability was ripped away. He was angry and frustrated when he came out of the ice to find all the people he knew were gone. Or at least he thought they were all gone. She remained.
Steve's boldness has improved a touch since he last saw her. He's no longer waiting for the ill timed moment to kiss her like during the HYDRA attack. He doesn't think he can really wait. Instead he steps towards her and puts a hand on her cheek. There's no hesitation as Steve leans down and kisses her. It's been a while. ]
[ steve catches her off her guard—pleasantly and perfectly. and he kisses her. more often, she’s the one doing the kissing than the one being kissed: peggy can trace this pattern all the way back to her first. it had been a quick and furtive thing just outside the chapel at st. martin-in-the-fields school for girls. it had been with a whitechapel boy, one who’d roved into the nicer, posher borough of lambeth with a band of his mates. he’d been sly and he’d been curious and peggy had been the one to coax him behind the freshly-painted chapel. she’d instigated; she’d initiated. and then she’d never bothered to learn his name—all he’d been was someone to giggle over with her friends. she’d done it in the service of bold action, not love.
—so she meets his kiss with a twinge of indignation, recognizing that by failing to act quicker and with more conviction than him, he’d denied her that opportunity to be the braver one. her fingers knot in the fabric of his sleeve; her head lifts to meet his affection. and peggy steadies herself with a breath through her nose, telegraphing that she’s got every intention of making it last.
kissing steve rogers sends her senses straight back to europe, to the war, to the smell of car exhaust and cordite wafting on the air the first and only other time she’s tasted him. relief and frustration tumble toward adrenaline—and peggy? she devours it all.
every kiss that had come after—after the war, after losing him—had always paled in comparison to their first in the bowels of the red skull’s fortress. it had been a pivot point (for both of them, she realizes) and now that he’s here it feels laughably obvious that he was always, would always, will always come back to her. so right, so meet, so appropriate that she’s already beginning to take his presence for granted.
her right hand migrates to the space above his heart. she feels for the beat and breaks their kiss just long enough to take a shaky breath. ]
Nor did I.
[ her voice remains curt and calm—quite in contrast to the colour in her cheeks, the warmth in her eyes, and the way she still grips him so. ]
[ The kiss was impromptu and he really wouldn't have blamed Peggy if she gave him a slap just for catching her off guard. He's not sure how it's going to end, but he finds himself holding his breath for whatever reason. Some part of Steve is absolutely terrified of the rejection that could follow this entire moment. Everything that followed the kiss in that hanging was chaos. It was a moment Steve would never forget for many reasons. He did used to sit and wonder what his life would have been like if he had been able to come back. If Steve had found a way to crash the plane and jump free. Maybe they needed that absence? Or just maybe it was a cruel twist of fate that left them both heartbroken at different points in time.
Returning to Peggy Carter's side is starting to become the norm. The necessity that he needs in his life. He needs her. Ever since he met her he's needed her in his life. It's why he was so overjoyed after the New York invasion to know she was alive. He didn't lose her entirely. Though some days it felt like he had. Eventually he did and things had been too devastating for him to really be able to process the grief. His life spiraled out until the calm settled from the snap. It gave Steve whole lot of perspective. Especially when Tony sacrificed himself. It would certainly be hard to keep that information from Howard, but it was something he'd have to get through. Him knowing would only cause pain and wouldn't save him.
After the kiss breaks the air finally finds his lungs. He's breathing heavier and he finally takes note of her hand on his chest. Right over his heart that's practically beating out of his chest. They aren't too far apart. She hasn't moved too far and he certainly isn't about to make space between them. Not when he worked so hard to get this close once again. It's a strange statement to anyone else other than the two of them. The response from her brings a smile to Steve's lips and he lets that information roll about in his head for a moment. Just appreciating that time hasn't erased any feelings from her.
A giddy sort of feeling overwhelms Steve right now. His plan wasn't one big giant failure. He got back to her safely. He hadn't completely lost her to time and distance. His heart felt like it couldn't be contained by his own chest. He was certain he might even float out of the room. ]
I'm not letting anyone else dance with you as long as I'm here.
[ His words hushed and soft due to how close he is to her right now. He doesn't want to let her go. He doesn't have the will to let her be out of his arms right now. ]
[ she takes careful stock of every clue and confirmation that he is alive. the quickened beat of his heart; the warmth of his body; the lingering heat of his kiss. peggy won’t let him go. her fingers shift only barely, as if trying to get a better grip on his bicep.
—she remembers these arms. ]
Not anyone?
[ she queries—humour leeching back into her voice. laughter rekindled by proximity and love. her touch skirts the edge of his collar and her fingertips draw an absent line across the place where his throat disappears beneath his shirt. ]
That’s rather proscriptive.
[ surely, she’s teasing. surely she knows that the way in which he invokes the verb—to dance—is leagues different to just any old common use. never-anyone-mind that she’s got very little intention of dancing with anyone else—not now that he’s here, he’s back, he’s hers again. perhaps in a way he never quite managed to be the first time around.
but peggy is peggy and steve is steve and they would neither of them be themselves if she didn’t at least try to keep him on his toes.
she pats his chest with one certain, punctuating tap. a sly smile. ]
There’s only one person with that much authority over my dance card, Captain, and I’m afraid it isn’t you.
[ It's almost just like time hadn't passed. The awkward dance from before seems to have faded. Jitters and fear no longer seem to be swimming around the two of them. They've gotten through some of the scariest moments. There's still a lot of explaining left for Steve to do and he knows he can't avoid it forever. Peggy is understanding and aware of how strangers things can get, but she won't accept what he's saying forever. He wouldn't expect her to though. That's just how Peggy is. She'll eventually dig the truth out of Steve and that's when things will get infinitely more complicated for them and everyone else who will become involved. But for now some unimportant truths were skirted and the important things are known.
Understanding that time passed, but the feelings never truly went away was the most important thing to settle. Neither was sure of how the other felt after what happened. More time has passed for Steve, but he was unaware for quite a large chunk of it. He would argue that maybe Peggy had it harder. Seeing her on the original trip was a brutal reminder that though Steve may have been out of sight he was never out of her mind. It broke his heart to see her. It's why he was standing here in her arms. Making a complete and total ass out of himself with his dance card comment. Or at least Steve believes for the moment. She was always good at ruffling him. ]
I didn't--that wasn't what I meant. I mean of course your--[ He blows out a sigh. ]--dance card is your own. [ After a moment he takes a real honest look at her face and takes note of the small smile that he almost doesn't catch. Steve's head tilts back and he lets out a heavy sigh. He's smiling though. Because he's well aware that she's trying to mess with him. Peggy Carter doesn't miss a beat. A lot of time has passed and yet she somehow knows just what to say to leave Steve in a befuddled mess at times.
His hold on her never loosens or falls away. She knows what Steve means and she's well aware he would never infringe upon her own freedoms. She's her own woman. Always. He just full intends on her being his as well. ]
With all due respect, ma'am, you have all the authority in the world. [ He looks at her with the same sort of determination he gives most ops. ] But you were out of my arms already once before. I don't intend to let it happen a second time.
[ peggy still has questions—lots of them, questions bubbling up in the back of her throat, and questions she makes a herculean effort to keep reined. there will be time to interrogate him later. and perhaps she doesn’t think too much of whatever growth and development he may have found in the future, because she believes (whole-heartedly!) that steve rogers won’t stand a chance under one of her interrogations. just now, she swears he seems to once again be the stammering, stumbling steve that she’d gotten to know so well during the war.
—he’s still him, isn’t he? she can see it in his eyes. she can hear it in his sigh. she dares to think she can smell so when she cants her head and almost-but-not-quite nudges her nose against the reliable curve of his shoulder.
clearly, she’s got no intention of fleeing his arms and calling his bluff.
except: ]
Even so. You’ll have to let me go.
[ she parks her chin on that same shoulder—one heavy sigh seems to sell away all the tension carried in her posture. how remarkably easy, she thinks, to carve out a place for herself here—right here—fit so snugly against him. ]
The record player won’t turn itself on.
[ there’s one behind her and within steve’s sightline—it’s a lovely model, modern by the current decade’s standards, and flanked by albums. it’s the one corner in an otherwise utilitarian and sparse room that speaks to a life being lived.
even now, she sidesteps the intent of his questions, his comments, his concerns. steve pledges her a kind of togetherness and instead of facing head-on she doubles back to an earlier point: their dance. ]
[ He does have one lurking concern in the back of his mind, but for the moment he doesn't allow himself to even think of Sharon's name. He won't allow himself to think of her period. It was a long time ago and at this point she's a moot point. They will ultimately have to have that conversation though. There are a lot of conversations. One that will revolve around Tony and ultimately at some point the part that Bucky eventually plays in the demise of Howard Stark. He won't be able to tell him, will he? Things have already branched with him being here, but could he branch it even further? There are things he's curious about, but would it make things better or worse if Steve did something about them?
There's the softest groan of disapproval when Peggy insists he'll have to let her go. He wonders why for a moment, but she reveals all after a beat. The record player. The dance. The frown disappears and in place is a smile. He peeks over her to find the record player she speaks of. He could let her pull away and go handle it herself, but instead Steve is the one that releases her. He doesn't say anything as he sidesteps around her to get to the record player. Steve studies the albums before him. He plucks one free and releases the disc from it's sleeve. Up comes the players lid and he plays the record gently onto the spindle. Once the record is on the turntable he flips it on. The arm is lifted and dropped into place.
Silence no longer hangs over them as the music floods the room that they're in. Not loud or overpowering. Just enough for them to enjoy it. Steve watches her for a moment. His mind wanders and for a moment he allows himself to think about how it would have gone at the Stork Club. He wonders how she would have looked. He wonders how many times he would have stepped on her feet. Though he does know one thing. He knows that without a doubt his heart would be hammering just as fast as it is right now. He'd be just as nervous to take her hand and be able to spin her around this room.
He's learned how to dance since back then, but he imagines she'll be thankful for that. Or at least her feet will. Finally he holds out his hand for her and smiles. ] Can I finally have this dance? [ It took a long time, but it was finally happening. ]
[ it’s—unsettling. peggy is unsettled, just a little, by how he boldly takes the helm of their reunion. she may have been the one to conjure the record player’s use but he’s the one who intends to use it—circumnavigating her in her own sitting room and browsing her record collection as if it’s already half his.
peggy sets her jaw. she’s feeling frustrated and enamored and tempted all at once. hawkishly, she watches his back as he drops his chosen album into place—but by the time he turns, by the time he’s once again looking at her, she’s managed to school her face into a more curated expression. pleasant, yes, but distant—maintaining that same aloofness she’s always been careful to preserve while around him. to do anything else would mean wearing her heart on her sleeve and she’s already done far far far too much of that.
she clears her throat and eyes his waiting hand. trumpets—warm and brassy—fill the air underpinned by playful piano notes. the song is sparse yet jazzy. bright, yet measured. easy to dance to. and peggy, eyes narrowed, has to wonder whether he knew what he was doing when he selected this record. ]
I can’t think of any reason why you shouldn’t.
[ her answer is roundabout, sharp, and laid over a thin smile. peggy slides her hand into his and the touch sparks as if they hadn’t just already spent minutes in an embrace.
she tugs him near—close—and gives every impression that she intends to take the lead. ]
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[ peg counters—whip quick and more than a little bit obstinate. and, yes, she is perhaps being contrary on little more than principle. but look at him! standing there, bold as brass, and cutting a figure like every missed opportunity she's ever imagined.
with a sigh of her own, she takes his hat and she takes his jacket and she hangs it on a row of hooks next to some of her own things: an umbrella, a silk scarf, a wool coat. but there's something telling in how her fingertips linger on his jacket sleeve, as though she tries to leech warmth—proof of life—from its cloth.
five years...five years! she can't conceive of which assumption is the better one: that he's been lost and captured all this time or whether he's been perfectly safe but not with her.
showing absolutely no intention of sitting down, peggy progresses instead to removing her blazer. rather than hang it up, she tosses it nonchalantly on the back of a chair in her small, modest front room. she proceeds to roll up her sleeves—appearing all the more thunderous for it when she places her hands on her hips. ]
—You're not the only one who's dreamed about this.
[ so goes peggy carter: saying sweet, heartfelt words but spitting them out as if they're venom. it's a confession disguised as an accusation. her lips purse; her eyes darken. ]
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For a moment he glances back over his shoulder to watch her hang his things. The muscles in his back tighten as she touches his jacket. It's gentle and something he knows she doesn't want him bringing up or addressing. He's quiet instead and just nods. He turns back to focus ahead of him and despite no longer being in the military he somehow finds himself standing alert. It's strange what muscle memory does. His brain takes one look at her and he knows he needs to remain level headed. For the moment.
He hasn't seen this sort of anger and frustration since Private Lorraine. He's sincerely hoping she doesn't have a gun close at hand. Steve stashed his shield elsewhere in an attempt to blend in. Cant walk around holding that shield and trying to convince people you aren't the long lost superhero that went MIA years ago. ]
If I could have gotten back to you sooner, Peggy, I would have. But at that moment I didn't have the ability to roll back time. [ This isn't how he wanted to do it, but he needs her to know that he didn't abandon her. He didn't go AWOL simply to live a normal life. He had his dream ripped away from him. ] I couldn't get back seventy years to be with you. I wanted to though. I wanted to so badly. [ His voice gets softer. ] I'm sorry.
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she clears her throat—having nearly choked on the claim that time had, in any capacity, been rolled back. so peggy hides behind her investigative faculties: one moment he talks about five years, and the next he talks about seventy.
but it all evaporates when he apologizes. her brows knit; her stance shifts. ]
I’ve got three questions. To start.
[ isn’t that her temper abates—far far from it—but she finds a different thrust. peggy stands, staring starkly at him for another three heartbeats, before turning on a heel and disappearing (briefly!) into a small study attached to the front room.
when she reappears, it’s with a cylindrical case—leather and beaten. she continues to talk as she fumbles with its latch. ]
First, is it five years or is it seventy? [ her gaze dips; a flush of something comes across her face as she focuses on the case instead of steve. ] Second, where the devil is the shield? Howard put too much work into it for you to go and lose it…
[ aha! she pops open the case and, with a touch too much energy, spreads a series of maritime maps on (of all places) the small squat table in her living room. ]
Third—show me where the Valkyrie is.
[ alright, alright, so the third question is more of a direct order. she barks it while pointing at the charts, shoulders heaving with just a bit too much breath. ]
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She comes at him with three questions. Questions that do propose an issue when she goes and returns with maps. He can answer two of these questions, but he's wary on answering the third. Because if she knows the location she will go looking for him. She has to leave Steve there. No matter what instinct says he has to stay in the ice. Which probably means he can never tell Howard. Peggy might be easier to talk into not going there, but Howard would never let it go. Ever. ]
Shield's fine. I hid it when I arrived. I didn't want the world to see me back before I could talk to you and Howard. [ It would make things complicated. ] It's been five years for you since I crashed the Valkyrie into the ice, Peggy. [ Steve doesn't go near the maps. He opts to sit on the couch though and leans back into the cushions with a sigh. ] I stayed in the ice for nearly seventy years. Best guess is the serum and the ice kept me alive and preserved. When they found me it was too late for us.
[ He leans forward after a beat and looks at the maps. ]
I can't tell you where the Valkyrie is. You can't go there Peggy. I'm still in the ice. I have to stay in the ice.
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slowly, gradually, she pieces together an outlandish hypothesis from what he tells her: he was found, after decades, and he wasn’t able to roll back time. as the thought crosses her mind, she sucks a hard breath through her teeth. something burns behind her eyes.
it’s been theorized, surely, but no one’s done it. not outside of an h.g. wells novel, at any rate.
peggy rakes a hand through her curls, mussing them from their careful setting. ]
That’s a sophisticated piece of weaponry, [ she argues—talking about the valkyrie, it would seem, and not the supersoldier. ] It can’t simply be left there under the assumed good faith that no one else will find it for… [ the number hits home; her heart hurts ] seventy years.
[ seventy years. peggy does the math, it’s second nature to her, and…much to her chagrin, she sinks to take a defeated seat on a nearby chaise. ]
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Watching her try to process this is devastating. Steve can see the look on her face when she processes the time he's in the ice. Left on his own. She doesn't let it hit though. She doubles down with demanding to know where the Valkyrie is. It's safe where it is. There's absolutely no way to find it without knowing where to look. SHIELD was able to eventually locate it, but that took years. He doesn't think anyone will just stumble upon it. ]
SHIELD will find it. They find the plane and eventually they find me as well. They're responsible for thawing me out. The plane is safe and won't fall into the wrong hands.
[ Not entirely. Technically HYDRA infiltrates SHIELD, but they do handle that situation. He's not sure if he needs to tell her about that now. What would change if Steve went after HYDRA now. Just now starting to get it's claws into things. Worming it's way into command structures. ]
It's been closer to over eighty years by now. It wasn't until recently we figured some things out. It's how I was able to come back. To you.
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it’s a little like having one’s diary found, and the intruder opens it up to a page with someone else’s name surrounded by hearts. this, of all things, causes her cheeks to flush with emotion. she may be sitting, now, but it’s with a stiff back and with coiled energy at her command. she might pop to her feet at any moment. ]
Who the devil is ‘we’?
[ she redirects her discomfort, her loss, her guilt, all of it into this one question. someone found him—and it wasn’t her, and she can’t quite come to terms with that realization just yet. she can vividly remember the day she sat howard down and persuaded him to call off his search.
and she can recall a tearful beseeching, over the radio, as she tried to break through fenhoff’s hypnosis. they had to let him go. ]
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But Peggy shifts gears just as quickly as he expected. She shifts into questioning about we. Now comes the complicated part of explaining things to her. The Avengers are difficult to really put into words. He doesn't want to go into details about everyone because they'll never get off the subject. Banner. Natasha. Thor. Just to name a few. Thor alone will keep her occupied with questions. Tony will make her head spin. He makes a conscious decision to not explain who the members are. He doesn't need to lead her there. ]
My team. They figured out how to go back in time. Something happened and we needed to go back in order to stop it. [ Vague. But simple. ] Once we did that they charged me with going back to fix a few things. [ Drop off Infinity Stones. Again. Vague. ] When we went back originally we went back to a place and time where you were. I saw you. After that I decided I didn't wanna let you go again. Someone told me to be happy. When things were put right I decided to follow their advice.
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what matters right now, what matters most, is the circumstance currently staring her down: steve is alive and here and returned to her. gratitude tips in his favour.
but only slightly. ]
Sounds as if you lot mucked it up on the first try. [ she comments, mildish, before crossing her legs at the ankles. ] If you had to go…back. To fix a few things. [ she tastes out the rhetoric, tries it on her tongue, and wrinkles her nose. ]
I can’t pretend to even begin to understand the implications of what you’re saying.
[ a beat. ]
—But tell me. Are you happy?
[ now that he’s here, now that he’s made his grand return, now that he’s sent her head and heart into a frenzy. it’s likely the most important question she’s asked since recognizing him. ]
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Steve smiles. He knows she's not insulting the team. She's actually stating a fact while trying to suss more details from him. She wants him to get defensive and try to explain the situation a little better. Steve doesn't know. There's no use in diving into what Thanos did to the world and how they needed to undo it. Not within the first hour of them seeing one another. He's trying to save the things that will leave her with questions for days for another time. Maybe when Howard is here as well. Telling everything twice will be a lot.
The question actually catches Steve off guard. He didn't think she'd ask that. Especially after his explanation. He looks at her long and hard from his spot on the couch. The smile on his face is almost dreamy. ] I was scared when I arrived. [ Scared that she might reject him. He still is. It's been eighty years and he still knows absolutely nothing about women. ] But from the moment I saw you standing on your porch drinking your tea--[ He shakes his head with a soft laugh. ]--I was the happiest I'd been since the day you kissed me.
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well, with something breathtaking.
her chin drops and she pinches the bridge of her nose. now, just now, she feels herself tread dangerously close to tearing up. but with a gentle pat against her own cheek and determined hum, she buries that instinct as well. ]
I’m at a loss. [ she admits. for words, for reactions, for all of it. ] Not to mention late for the office.
[ with a groan, with a sigh, she hauls herself back to her feet and crosses over to a telephone near the front hall. it’s rotary, and she watches him like a hawk while she dials a number suspiciously longer than a standard phone number. ]
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His words hang in the air for what feels like an eternity. He knew that coming here was the biggest risk he could take. Not because he'd be stranded, but because she could completely have no desire to pursue what was taken from them. It could be too much for her. He wouldn't blame her if that's how it went. It's also not every day that a man comes back from the future because he's come to the conclusion that his happiness could stem just from having you back in his life. Probably very overwhelming to know.
For a moment he's not sure where she's going. She stands up and starts to move. He thinks for a moment she's going for her briefcase and plans to leave. Steve pushes himself to his feet, but he doesn't move. Instead she goes to the telephone and he watches her. She could be doing two things. Calling out or planning to tell people Captain America has returned.
He doesn't speak. Instead he just watches her with far more intensity than he likely should be. He's still. An observer to this new life she has. ]
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peggy’s nose crinkles at the thought. she’s never complained about the sight of him in a taut, tight tshirt—but it’s hard to dredge up that appreciation in a moment like this one.
finally! the phone line clicks to life. she rattles off a series of numbers and greek letters, presumably some manner of priority passcode, and cradles the phone against her shoulder as she waits some more. on hold with her own office! christ alive. ]
[ there are things she wants to say, but she doesn’t dare say them so long as the phone is off its cradle. peggy doesn’t believe her home line is bugged, but in reality she can’t be certain of anything. best to save it, for now, until…
aha! a human voice, a trusty deputy, and peggy turns her body just so, forcing steve to stare at her in profile only. her voice is quiet, but still quite easy to make out even if he didn’t have heightened senses: ]
Something important came up with the Panama dossier. I won’t be in—no, no, I won’t need any spare hands, either. Yes. Cheers. [ a pause; a slight proud smile, presumably in response to something she’d just been told. ] Give her my best, Latimer. Oh! And when Stark finally drags his sorry carcass into the lab, have him give us a ring. On the home line, yes. [ … ] You as well.
[ peggy sets the receiver back on its cradle. ]
You’ll need to come up with some better answers. [ she turns back to face him. ] Eventually.
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She doesn't say anything about his arrival. She informs whoever she's speaking with of her absence for the day and that's that. His chest tightens just a bit when she mentions Howard. It's different knowing that one of his closest friends is alive now. He'd grown so used to living without them that having them both back was strange. Once she hangs up the phone and turns back to him Steve feels the nerves gather up inside of him. She looks at him sometimes and he's right back in bootcamp. She had this way of making men shrink with her gaze when she wanted. He hasn't given her a single solid answer and eventually he will have to give her something. He's just not sure what's safe. ]
I know. In time. [ Steve nods and his jaw tightens as a question pops into his head. He's not quite sure if asking this is fair, but he wants to know. She posed it to him and it's only going to sit in the back of his mind eating away at him until he decides to ask her. ] Are you? [ It occurs to him that he wasn't really that clear with his question. ] Are you happy? [ Though he leaves the question like that. Is he asking if she's happy that he's back? Is he asking if she's happy in general before his arrival? She could really take it a hundred different ways if she wanted. ]
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as steve asks his question, it doesn’t cut like the knife she’d expected it to be—instead, it’s like a persistent sprouted seed, pushing its tender green shoots up through craggy concrete. it’s a bloom of something warm and new like a kind of bonus love navigating its way through dirt and ash.
yesterday, peggy could have described herself as plenty of things: accomplished, busy, racing towards satisfaction. however, happy would never have been among the adjectives—not because she was unhappy but because happiness was never meant to be part of the equation. not since losing him.
she sucks in a careful breath. peggy knows what he wants to hear (what he needs to hear) and withholds it until she scrapes from him a bit more intel. ]
Are you staying?
[ she answers his question with another question. the subtext is so obvious it’s painful: yes, she could be happy—is he here to deliver that happiness to her, gift-wrapped and overdue? ]
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When she slipped away from him a second time it hurt more than words could have ever actually expressed. Seeing Natasha was a small miracle because at the time Steve just wanted to let himself fall apart right there in the church. Right now he's been given a third chance at some form of happiness. Something that people urged him to chase after when he could. Not returning home would no doubt leave the others in a state of confusion, but he knew that they'd understand in the end. Especially Bucky. He saw Steve when he was around her. He knew how the man seemed to float whenever she even looked in this direction.
The question catches him off guard, but he really thinks about it then it makes the most sense. He had left her. If she felt even half of what he had then his absence had been like a weight pressing on her heart. A painful ache that could be ignored, but it would always remain. He smiles for just a moment as he watches her. ]
Yes. I didn't plan on going back. I used my way home to get back here.
[ He stranded himself in the hopes that she would believe him and take him back into her life. Not the smartest Captain America plan, but he's a little rusty. ]
Are you okay with that? Guess it's a little presumptuous of me to do that.
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return to her.
her comfortable sitting room, the one that had always felt much too large for only her, suddenly feels cramped—claustrophobic, almost. or maybe she should blame the heat gathering under her collar. steve is staying, always intended to stay, and articulates as much with all the same swagger as the man who’d marched back into base camp with a band of rescued prisoners behind him.
peggy smiles. it’s small but so very real. ]
It’ll do.
[ she uses understatement like a crutch—taking strides toward him but staying ever-so-almost out of reach, ignoring the temptation to grab for him. ]
You’ve been missed.
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That smile doesn't need to be ten miles wide. It's enough to make him mimic her with his own joy. It's the first time she hasn't looked completely flustered and confused at his presence. She may not have all the facts and she probably never would. They couldn't go and find him in the ice no matter how much her or Howard would eventually want to. He had to stay there. He also couldn't go and get Bucky. He thought about it a lot, but how different of a branch would that create. He wouldn't be able to tell them what happened if he skewed things. His reality would branch off from the one he once knew. It was going to be something he would indeed grapple with the longer he stayed here in this time period.
When she starts to move towards him it's not expected. Steve's muscles grow taut and he waits for something to happen. Mostly he's waiting for that right hook. Some sort of frustration being vented. It's not like he left her with all the answers. She doesn't completely close the gap when she comes to a halt. Instead she stands before Steve and announces he's been missed. He doesn't speak. He's not sure if he needs to right now. They've sort of danced around each other for most of this meeting. In a way it's the most Peggy way to announce that she'd missed him. Crisp and clear. ]
I've missed you too. Never could find the right dancing partner.
[ True he did have her with him for a few years, but the Peggy he was talking to in that nursing home wasn't her. It was her, but things were missing. He counted himself lucky though because she was just there. It was enough to keep Steve going and keep him sane at times. When she died a huge part of his stability was ripped away. He was angry and frustrated when he came out of the ice to find all the people he knew were gone. Or at least he thought they were all gone. She remained.
Steve's boldness has improved a touch since he last saw her. He's no longer waiting for the ill timed moment to kiss her like during the HYDRA attack. He doesn't think he can really wait. Instead he steps towards her and puts a hand on her cheek. There's no hesitation as Steve leans down and kisses her. It's been a while. ]
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—so she meets his kiss with a twinge of indignation, recognizing that by failing to act quicker and with more conviction than him, he’d denied her that opportunity to be the braver one. her fingers knot in the fabric of his sleeve; her head lifts to meet his affection. and peggy steadies herself with a breath through her nose, telegraphing that she’s got every intention of making it last.
kissing steve rogers sends her senses straight back to europe, to the war, to the smell of car exhaust and cordite wafting on the air the first and only other time she’s tasted him. relief and frustration tumble toward adrenaline—and peggy? she devours it all.
every kiss that had come after—after the war, after losing him—had always paled in comparison to their first in the bowels of the red skull’s fortress. it had been a pivot point (for both of them, she realizes) and now that he’s here it feels laughably obvious that he was always, would always, will always come back to her. so right, so meet, so appropriate that she’s already beginning to take his presence for granted.
her right hand migrates to the space above his heart. she feels for the beat and breaks their kiss just long enough to take a shaky breath. ]
Nor did I.
[ her voice remains curt and calm—quite in contrast to the colour in her cheeks, the warmth in her eyes, and the way she still grips him so. ]
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Returning to Peggy Carter's side is starting to become the norm. The necessity that he needs in his life. He needs her. Ever since he met her he's needed her in his life. It's why he was so overjoyed after the New York invasion to know she was alive. He didn't lose her entirely. Though some days it felt like he had. Eventually he did and things had been too devastating for him to really be able to process the grief. His life spiraled out until the calm settled from the snap. It gave Steve whole lot of perspective. Especially when Tony sacrificed himself. It would certainly be hard to keep that information from Howard, but it was something he'd have to get through. Him knowing would only cause pain and wouldn't save him.
After the kiss breaks the air finally finds his lungs. He's breathing heavier and he finally takes note of her hand on his chest. Right over his heart that's practically beating out of his chest. They aren't too far apart. She hasn't moved too far and he certainly isn't about to make space between them. Not when he worked so hard to get this close once again. It's a strange statement to anyone else other than the two of them. The response from her brings a smile to Steve's lips and he lets that information roll about in his head for a moment. Just appreciating that time hasn't erased any feelings from her.
A giddy sort of feeling overwhelms Steve right now. His plan wasn't one big giant failure. He got back to her safely. He hadn't completely lost her to time and distance. His heart felt like it couldn't be contained by his own chest. He was certain he might even float out of the room. ]
I'm not letting anyone else dance with you as long as I'm here.
[ His words hushed and soft due to how close he is to her right now. He doesn't want to let her go. He doesn't have the will to let her be out of his arms right now. ]
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—she remembers these arms. ]
Not anyone?
[ she queries—humour leeching back into her voice. laughter rekindled by proximity and love. her touch skirts the edge of his collar and her fingertips draw an absent line across the place where his throat disappears beneath his shirt. ]
That’s rather proscriptive.
[ surely, she’s teasing. surely she knows that the way in which he invokes the verb—to dance—is leagues different to just any old common use. never-anyone-mind that she’s got very little intention of dancing with anyone else—not now that he’s here, he’s back, he’s hers again. perhaps in a way he never quite managed to be the first time around.
but peggy is peggy and steve is steve and they would neither of them be themselves if she didn’t at least try to keep him on his toes.
she pats his chest with one certain, punctuating tap. a sly smile. ]
There’s only one person with that much authority over my dance card, Captain, and I’m afraid it isn’t you.
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Understanding that time passed, but the feelings never truly went away was the most important thing to settle. Neither was sure of how the other felt after what happened. More time has passed for Steve, but he was unaware for quite a large chunk of it. He would argue that maybe Peggy had it harder. Seeing her on the original trip was a brutal reminder that though Steve may have been out of sight he was never out of her mind. It broke his heart to see her. It's why he was standing here in her arms. Making a complete and total ass out of himself with his dance card comment. Or at least Steve believes for the moment. She was always good at ruffling him. ]
I didn't--that wasn't what I meant. I mean of course your--[ He blows out a sigh. ]--dance card is your own. [ After a moment he takes a real honest look at her face and takes note of the small smile that he almost doesn't catch. Steve's head tilts back and he lets out a heavy sigh. He's smiling though. Because he's well aware that she's trying to mess with him. Peggy Carter doesn't miss a beat. A lot of time has passed and yet she somehow knows just what to say to leave Steve in a befuddled mess at times.
His hold on her never loosens or falls away. She knows what Steve means and she's well aware he would never infringe upon her own freedoms. She's her own woman. Always. He just full intends on her being his as well. ]
With all due respect, ma'am, you have all the authority in the world. [ He looks at her with the same sort of determination he gives most ops. ] But you were out of my arms already once before. I don't intend to let it happen a second time.
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—he’s still him, isn’t he? she can see it in his eyes. she can hear it in his sigh. she dares to think she can smell so when she cants her head and almost-but-not-quite nudges her nose against the reliable curve of his shoulder.
clearly, she’s got no intention of fleeing his arms and calling his bluff.
except: ]
Even so. You’ll have to let me go.
[ she parks her chin on that same shoulder—one heavy sigh seems to sell away all the tension carried in her posture. how remarkably easy, she thinks, to carve out a place for herself here—right here—fit so snugly against him. ]
The record player won’t turn itself on.
[ there’s one behind her and within steve’s sightline—it’s a lovely model, modern by the current decade’s standards, and flanked by albums. it’s the one corner in an otherwise utilitarian and sparse room that speaks to a life being lived.
even now, she sidesteps the intent of his questions, his comments, his concerns. steve pledges her a kind of togetherness and instead of facing head-on she doubles back to an earlier point: their dance. ]
i now know too many things about record players
There's the softest groan of disapproval when Peggy insists he'll have to let her go. He wonders why for a moment, but she reveals all after a beat. The record player. The dance. The frown disappears and in place is a smile. He peeks over her to find the record player she speaks of. He could let her pull away and go handle it herself, but instead Steve is the one that releases her. He doesn't say anything as he sidesteps around her to get to the record player. Steve studies the albums before him. He plucks one free and releases the disc from it's sleeve. Up comes the players lid and he plays the record gently onto the spindle. Once the record is on the turntable he flips it on. The arm is lifted and dropped into place.
Silence no longer hangs over them as the music floods the room that they're in. Not loud or overpowering. Just enough for them to enjoy it. Steve watches her for a moment. His mind wanders and for a moment he allows himself to think about how it would have gone at the Stork Club. He wonders how she would have looked. He wonders how many times he would have stepped on her feet. Though he does know one thing. He knows that without a doubt his heart would be hammering just as fast as it is right now. He'd be just as nervous to take her hand and be able to spin her around this room.
He's learned how to dance since back then, but he imagines she'll be thankful for that. Or at least her feet will. Finally he holds out his hand for her and smiles. ] Can I finally have this dance? [ It took a long time, but it was finally happening. ]
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peggy sets her jaw. she’s feeling frustrated and enamored and tempted all at once. hawkishly, she watches his back as he drops his chosen album into place—but by the time he turns, by the time he’s once again looking at her, she’s managed to school her face into a more curated expression. pleasant, yes, but distant—maintaining that same aloofness she’s always been careful to preserve while around him. to do anything else would mean wearing her heart on her sleeve and she’s already done far far far too much of that.
she clears her throat and eyes his waiting hand. trumpets—warm and brassy—fill the air underpinned by playful piano notes. the song is sparse yet jazzy. bright, yet measured. easy to dance to. and peggy, eyes narrowed, has to wonder whether he knew what he was doing when he selected this record. ]
I can’t think of any reason why you shouldn’t.
[ her answer is roundabout, sharp, and laid over a thin smile. peggy slides her hand into his and the touch sparks as if they hadn’t just already spent minutes in an embrace.
she tugs him near—close—and gives every impression that she intends to take the lead. ]
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