[ 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. ]
[ Once upon a time she knew a far more nervous Steve Rogers. One that did better in battle than actually talking to women. Since then though Steve's social skills have vastly improved around the opposite sex. Then again Peggy tends to bring out the nervous young man he once was at times. He does wonder what this version of her would have thought of him before the Snap. Before the Accords. There was a time after he woke up from the ice where Steve shut down. Every single part of him felt hollow and like he was sleep walking through time. He was just trying to find his place to settle. He didn't know who he was supposed to be to the world anymore. It was the farthest Steve felt from himself in a long time. But right now in this moment with her it's like none of it ever happened. The sights. The smells. The sounds. They all bring about familiarity that he so desperately had been craving.
They've always been on opposite ends of the spectrum. Steve was a man that wasn't afraid of what people thought of him. Steve wore his heart on his sleeve for some time around her. Peggy did the opposite. It's why he tried taking romantic advice from Howard Stark which in hindsight was more than likely the worst move he could have made. They've changed though. Both have hardened a bit by time though Steve feels that shell weakening bit by bit just being around her. This was all he had ever wanted for so long. To go home to her. Standing next to her he's no longer a man out of time.
Absolutely no part of Steve thought he would be taking the lead with the dance. Not at first anyways. Peggy's determined and bossy all on her own. She pushes. She doesn't expect the push back. Yet if you don't it upsets her. It's all a test. One big giant test that he's had to run through time and time again since he's known her. If you don't give just as good as you get then it's over. She pulls Steve close and he loops an arm around her waist. His hand settles on the small of her back and he looks down at her. ]
I promise I won't step on your feet.
[ Maybe some parts of him are sharper and some are just deadened, but pushing back against Peggy Carter will never be something that changes. He knows that she'll huff and puff over him taking the lead, but part of him wants to show her that he did eventually learn to dance. Time didn't completely ravage him. ]
[ she feels the warm weight of his hand on her back. it reassures her and weakens her knees all at once. perhaps she's danced a time or three since his disappearance but only rarely and never without a sense of loss settled deep in her chest. not so now: her blood's never felt brighter, happier, speeding through her veins.
peggy dispenses with most of the modesty afforded a proper dance -- leastwise what the current decade might consider proper. she fits her body to his and lays her hand on his shoulder so that it can curl ever-so-almost beneath the collar of his shirt. she holds onto him and stumbles only when he makes such an unspoken drama of contesting her lead.
she looks him in his eyes and murmurs, quiet-like: ]
And here I was still expecting I'd have to show you how.
[ her voice stretches across the words. they're sweet and they're a bit coy -- flirtatious, almost -- but they mask pain, too. they echo their darkest moments, their abortive goodbye, their poorly kept promises. peggy's head tilts as the song picks up and she clears her throat with all the impatience of someone who believes she's only humouring him his lead.
-- though it's mighty lovely to hold his hand, she thinks. ]
[ He never imagined he'd be back here like this. When he sat by her side and talked for hours when her memory was going he didn't think he'd get a chance like this. He never imagined he'd have a chance to redo what time he had lost being in the ice. He was just thankful she was even alive for him to see and speak with. The fact that she's in his arms right now and they're dancing almost feels like a dream. Something that used to happen a lot when he woke up from the ice. Before the invasion Steve was aimless and without a purpose he was left to his own devices. He'd lost so much, but he knew that the people he left behind likely felt it more. They were awake and aware. Living out the long years.
She's bossy. She's headstrong. She's stubborn. She's everything Steve fell in love with still. She constantly kept him on his toes and that just made him love her more. She was never going to take anything from anyone. Peggy Carter would always be in control. Though he fully intends to continue to fight her for control of this dance. He knows that she feels more comfortable when she has the reigns. At least it was something he'd gleaned in the time he knew her. Steve could spot little things about her, but the big picture romance was always an issue for him to decipher. Figuring out what little things meant in the long run. He may not be a Stark, but he's more than figured things out. ]
Seventy years went by. I figured if I didn't know already I had to learn soon. People were starting to talk.
[ Everything they say is just something disguised as something else entirely. Both burnt and worried about what could happen. The war pulled them apart along with a decision from Steve. Sometimes he wonders what could have been. What if he had been able to stop it? What if he got to come back to her? What if he lived his entire life in this time period? Still he's done and seen extraordinary things. He knows he can't ever replicate that. ]
But. [ He lets out almost an amused sigh and follows it with a smile. ] I'm sure there's a thing or two you could still teach me. You were always pretty good at that.
[ with her next breath — exhaled, slow and careful — she infringes further on that thin bit of space between their bodies. the music dips; she noses her face against the crook of his neck and feels his pulse hot and present against her cheek. looking him in the eyes might be lovely, yes, but so is this aggressive proximity.
he flatters her — deftly, sweetly, and with more social skill than she’d ever thought he could muster — but peggy doesn’t let her heart get off-balanced by it. the entire moment becomes less about dancing and more about reminding herself that she isn’t dreaming.
— she remains so curious about his life in the future. ]
And what did people start to say?
[ if he won’t tell her the salient facts about his discovery, his work, or his return, then perhaps she could at least learn a little about his social standing in this brave new world he’d called home in recent years. who mattered to him? what was expected of him? did anyone look out for his soul half-as-much as they looked out for his public image?
peggy thinks about the day she’d found him doodling uniformed monkeys in the rain. the memory kindles an old indignation — she feels a bit bitter and jealous of the future, of its population, and of what they might have done-said-expected of captain steve rogers while she wasn’t there to direct him. ]
[ It's the most Peggy Carter question. It's curious and light. It flows into what he had stated before, but it holds so much more meaning behind it. She's curious. She's always been inquisitive and impatient. She's the strongest woman he'll ever known and yet right now he's getting a glimpse into that vulnerability. The vulnerability that reared its ugly head when she caught Private Lorraine kissing him. It's difficult to crack into that part of Peggy because she keeps it so heavily guarded. It's probably the main reason he screwed things up so often with her. Romantically that is. He never knew which ended was up or down. He was constantly second guessing.
She's looking for a specific answer. He knows that much. She doesn't just want something half assed and reassuring. She wants some tangible thought. She wants to know who is in Steve's life. Mentioning Tony is absolutely out of the question. He doesn't know how to mention Natasha without completely revealing everything. Her death included. She was probably the leading motivation in getting Steve to learn how to dance properly. It doesn't even occur to Steve to mention the past romantic glimpse with Sharon. It was so brief and small that he doesn't think that the impact really remained. ]
You can't be Captain America and step on women's feet when you dance. It's just silly.
[ He smiles for a moment thinking back to the conversation with Natasha. It went differently and offered more blunt Natasha Romanoff honesty. He's paraphrasing. ]
One of my team members. Natasha. She said my two left feet act was getting really old. She took pity on me. I at least had rhythm. She said that made it easier.
[ It's a sad smile that takes over. Something he imagines he'll do a lot when he thinks of the ones he lost. She saved them. She made all of this possible. Him being able to even come back. ]
Sam still thinks I'm not too good at it. He just likes that he's better than me at something for once.
[ captain america. there it is—the title given to him by his country, his government, but one that she’d rarely ever used. if she called him anything, it was only ever captain rogers. or steve, in her more tender moments.
her expression crinkles, but it’s still so buried in the crook of his neck that she doubts (hopes) he doesn’t see her reproach. it’s unfair to hold him accountable for the things the world might have done or demanded of him. for example, she’d never held the uso shows against him. steve rogers had wanted to make a difference—no matter the how. doesn’t mean she didn’t leap at the chance to give him an out, an alternative, a third option. ]
Friends?
[ she asks — about as casual as she can muster. her hand tightens on his; her breath skates his adam’s apple. there’s no reason to be so possessive when she’s got him in her grip. yet here she is, holding him closer.
and, christ alive, it’s not as if she doesn’t also have friends. even if peggy would be unwilling to use the word. ]
[ He wonders if criminal would be a term better used to describe him. Especially by the government. The Snap changed everything though. At one point they were on the run and then when the world was rocked it seemed like it was easier to forgive past grievances. He earned a fair amount of goodwill after Thanos, but he knows that the government was still wary. He worries about what will happen in his absence, but he knows that the team will be able to cope. What remains of them anyways. Captain America was a symbol the government made. Steve Rogers was the man that wore the symbol. The man that was left behind when the symbol was stripped away from him by their government and a bit by Tony as well.
The question catches Steve off guard. It's an innocent question on the surface. Yet there are context clues. Ones that Steve takes into account before he answers. The biggest though is the way her grip on his hand. He can't see her face right now, but he can only imagine that it's doing it's very best to hide some sort of curious jealousy? He's not certain. His lips tug upward into a sort of lazy smile as he continues to dance with her. Steve doesn't immediately answer. Instead he lets the question hang there for an extra moment or two. She's always been very good at keeping him off balance. He'd be nice to show her that he can do the same these days. ]
As well as members of my team.
[ He does wonder who she's most curious about. Likely both. After Bucky died she suddenly was one of his closest friends on top of everything else going on between them. Someone who held the most important place in his heart and soul. It almost seems like he's not going to say anymore on the topic when he suddenly speaks once more. ]
And both interested in other people.
[ They all knew how Natasha felt about Bruce. As for Sam he's not sure, but he assumes that maybe Sam was interested in someone. He knows it wasn't him though. He figures it's wise to put her curiosity to rest early on about that. ]
[ she’s taken aback by how easily, how confidently, he clarifies his position the moment he announces it. and both interested in other people. peggy produces a quiet scoff in the back of her throat, as if she might scold him for thinking she was at all concerned, but the reality is that his admission brings with it a flush of warm relief. her possession isn’t simply a romantic one, mind, but it’s good to have certain pieces of intel out in the open.
it gives her an opportunity to decide what she might (or mightn’t) do with the information. going forward. ]
Does Howard count? [ she hums, leaning her chin on his shoulder. ] Until today, I’d have thought I was likely the only one in the whole world who’d call him a friend.
[ but now steve’s back. oh, heavens, steve’s back. ]
And I keep in touch with Dugan. The lads.
[ but what about all the others? the friends he doesn’t know about? the friends she’d not met until after she’d already lost him, and the woman they’d grown close to was that hard-shelled and grief-stricken professional who hadn’t made it easy for any of them to get near to her. ]
[ Time has passed for him. A lot of it. Confidence was always there lurking beneath the surface. It came out in battle and executing strategies about how to approach enemies, but never in his personal life. The Steve Rogers that existed behind closed doors could be awkward and a little clueless at times. Mostly about romantic matters of the heart. He tried to throw himself into situations, but they always never ended the way he wanted. Usually whatever was there fizzled out because Steve focused too much on SHIELD and all the things that came with throwing himself back into work. SHIELD offered order to the chaos that was Steve's heart and soul after he woke up from the ice. There was uncertainty and lies, but for a time it kept him grounded.
Beyond the friends he made "on the job" it was rare for Steve to make one organically unless you counted Sam. Then again that went from normal to "work friends" very quickly when Steve was forced to pull the man into his own issues. It's why he smiles when she asks if Howard counts as a friend. He would think so. All of his are in the same sort of group as Howard. Other than Bucky of course, but that was a friendship formed in another time period. ] Howard counts. The last friend I made outside of all of this was Buck. Hard to trust people outside of this circle.
[ The one created through their job. It makes Steve smile to hear her mention Dugan. The team. The Howling Commandos. They were people he tried to find when he woke up from the ice. He sifted through dossier after dossier to learn about what happened to his friends he had left behind. Or rather had outlived. He didn't simply catapult into the future. He slept through it. The idea still does things to him deep down.
Steve tries to keep his body from tensing up when she says Mister Jarvis. JARVIS had been Tony's AI and then he was Vision. Unfortunately for as well equipped as Steve has become he still has a big mouth that reacts before his brain can tell it not to. ]
[ their dance evolves into a comfortable, close-bodied sway. once upon a time, she might have fantasized about clean lines and precise dance moves—but this is a more than appropriate substitute, she thinks, as she cozies her chin against his shoulder and feels the rumble of his voice.
hard to trust people outside of this circle, steve says, and silently she acknowledges that he’s right. even when she’s got every reason to trust someone, even someone within her circle, she struggles. it’s not always that she distrusts their motives; sometimes it’s as simple as distrusting someone’s ability to navigate the shadowed, dangerous vocation to which she’s committed herself.
these thoughts are swirling in her head when she senses how steve stiffens. her body language reacts to his—and she has to wonder what she’s said that’s had such an effect. ]
—What do you mean. Designed?
[ it’s not quite a question. she frowns into his collar, but doesn’t yet raise her head from his shoulder. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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They've always been on opposite ends of the spectrum. Steve was a man that wasn't afraid of what people thought of him. Steve wore his heart on his sleeve for some time around her. Peggy did the opposite. It's why he tried taking romantic advice from Howard Stark which in hindsight was more than likely the worst move he could have made. They've changed though. Both have hardened a bit by time though Steve feels that shell weakening bit by bit just being around her. This was all he had ever wanted for so long. To go home to her. Standing next to her he's no longer a man out of time.
Absolutely no part of Steve thought he would be taking the lead with the dance. Not at first anyways. Peggy's determined and bossy all on her own. She pushes. She doesn't expect the push back. Yet if you don't it upsets her. It's all a test. One big giant test that he's had to run through time and time again since he's known her. If you don't give just as good as you get then it's over. She pulls Steve close and he loops an arm around her waist. His hand settles on the small of her back and he looks down at her. ]
I promise I won't step on your feet.
[ Maybe some parts of him are sharper and some are just deadened, but pushing back against Peggy Carter will never be something that changes. He knows that she'll huff and puff over him taking the lead, but part of him wants to show her that he did eventually learn to dance. Time didn't completely ravage him. ]
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peggy dispenses with most of the modesty afforded a proper dance -- leastwise what the current decade might consider proper. she fits her body to his and lays her hand on his shoulder so that it can curl ever-so-almost beneath the collar of his shirt. she holds onto him and stumbles only when he makes such an unspoken drama of contesting her lead.
she looks him in his eyes and murmurs, quiet-like: ]
And here I was still expecting I'd have to show you how.
[ her voice stretches across the words. they're sweet and they're a bit coy -- flirtatious, almost -- but they mask pain, too. they echo their darkest moments, their abortive goodbye, their poorly kept promises. peggy's head tilts as the song picks up and she clears her throat with all the impatience of someone who believes she's only humouring him his lead.
-- though it's mighty lovely to hold his hand, she thinks. ]
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She's bossy. She's headstrong. She's stubborn. She's everything Steve fell in love with still. She constantly kept him on his toes and that just made him love her more. She was never going to take anything from anyone. Peggy Carter would always be in control. Though he fully intends to continue to fight her for control of this dance. He knows that she feels more comfortable when she has the reigns. At least it was something he'd gleaned in the time he knew her. Steve could spot little things about her, but the big picture romance was always an issue for him to decipher. Figuring out what little things meant in the long run. He may not be a Stark, but he's more than figured things out. ]
Seventy years went by. I figured if I didn't know already I had to learn soon. People were starting to talk.
[ Everything they say is just something disguised as something else entirely. Both burnt and worried about what could happen. The war pulled them apart along with a decision from Steve. Sometimes he wonders what could have been. What if he had been able to stop it? What if he got to come back to her? What if he lived his entire life in this time period? Still he's done and seen extraordinary things. He knows he can't ever replicate that. ]
But. [ He lets out almost an amused sigh and follows it with a smile. ] I'm sure there's a thing or two you could still teach me. You were always pretty good at that.
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he flatters her — deftly, sweetly, and with more social skill than she’d ever thought he could muster — but peggy doesn’t let her heart get off-balanced by it. the entire moment becomes less about dancing and more about reminding herself that she isn’t dreaming.
— she remains so curious about his life in the future. ]
And what did people start to say?
[ if he won’t tell her the salient facts about his discovery, his work, or his return, then perhaps she could at least learn a little about his social standing in this brave new world he’d called home in recent years. who mattered to him? what was expected of him? did anyone look out for his soul half-as-much as they looked out for his public image?
peggy thinks about the day she’d found him doodling uniformed monkeys in the rain. the memory kindles an old indignation — she feels a bit bitter and jealous of the future, of its population, and of what they might have done-said-expected of captain steve rogers while she wasn’t there to direct him. ]
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She's looking for a specific answer. He knows that much. She doesn't just want something half assed and reassuring. She wants some tangible thought. She wants to know who is in Steve's life. Mentioning Tony is absolutely out of the question. He doesn't know how to mention Natasha without completely revealing everything. Her death included. She was probably the leading motivation in getting Steve to learn how to dance properly. It doesn't even occur to Steve to mention the past romantic glimpse with Sharon. It was so brief and small that he doesn't think that the impact really remained. ]
You can't be Captain America and step on women's feet when you dance. It's just silly.
[ He smiles for a moment thinking back to the conversation with Natasha. It went differently and offered more blunt Natasha Romanoff honesty. He's paraphrasing. ]
One of my team members. Natasha. She said my two left feet act was getting really old. She took pity on me. I at least had rhythm. She said that made it easier.
[ It's a sad smile that takes over. Something he imagines he'll do a lot when he thinks of the ones he lost. She saved them. She made all of this possible. Him being able to even come back. ]
Sam still thinks I'm not too good at it. He just likes that he's better than me at something for once.
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her expression crinkles, but it’s still so buried in the crook of his neck that she doubts (hopes) he doesn’t see her reproach. it’s unfair to hold him accountable for the things the world might have done or demanded of him. for example, she’d never held the uso shows against him. steve rogers had wanted to make a difference—no matter the how. doesn’t mean she didn’t leap at the chance to give him an out, an alternative, a third option. ]
Friends?
[ she asks — about as casual as she can muster. her hand tightens on his; her breath skates his adam’s apple. there’s no reason to be so possessive when she’s got him in her grip. yet here she is, holding him closer.
and, christ alive, it’s not as if she doesn’t also have friends. even if peggy would be unwilling to use the word. ]
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The question catches Steve off guard. It's an innocent question on the surface. Yet there are context clues. Ones that Steve takes into account before he answers. The biggest though is the way her grip on his hand. He can't see her face right now, but he can only imagine that it's doing it's very best to hide some sort of curious jealousy? He's not certain. His lips tug upward into a sort of lazy smile as he continues to dance with her. Steve doesn't immediately answer. Instead he lets the question hang there for an extra moment or two. She's always been very good at keeping him off balance. He'd be nice to show her that he can do the same these days. ]
As well as members of my team.
[ He does wonder who she's most curious about. Likely both. After Bucky died she suddenly was one of his closest friends on top of everything else going on between them. Someone who held the most important place in his heart and soul. It almost seems like he's not going to say anymore on the topic when he suddenly speaks once more. ]
And both interested in other people.
[ They all knew how Natasha felt about Bruce. As for Sam he's not sure, but he assumes that maybe Sam was interested in someone. He knows it wasn't him though. He figures it's wise to put her curiosity to rest early on about that. ]
What about you? You have any friends?
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it gives her an opportunity to decide what she might (or mightn’t) do with the information. going forward. ]
Does Howard count? [ she hums, leaning her chin on his shoulder. ] Until today, I’d have thought I was likely the only one in the whole world who’d call him a friend.
[ but now steve’s back. oh, heavens, steve’s back. ]
And I keep in touch with Dugan. The lads.
[ but what about all the others? the friends he doesn’t know about? the friends she’d not met until after she’d already lost him, and the woman they’d grown close to was that hard-shelled and grief-stricken professional who hadn’t made it easy for any of them to get near to her. ]
Mister Jarvis will simply adore meeting you.
[ there. she’ll start there. ]
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Beyond the friends he made "on the job" it was rare for Steve to make one organically unless you counted Sam. Then again that went from normal to "work friends" very quickly when Steve was forced to pull the man into his own issues. It's why he smiles when she asks if Howard counts as a friend. He would think so. All of his are in the same sort of group as Howard. Other than Bucky of course, but that was a friendship formed in another time period. ] Howard counts. The last friend I made outside of all of this was Buck. Hard to trust people outside of this circle.
[ The one created through their job. It makes Steve smile to hear her mention Dugan. The team. The Howling Commandos. They were people he tried to find when he woke up from the ice. He sifted through dossier after dossier to learn about what happened to his friends he had left behind. Or rather had outlived. He didn't simply catapult into the future. He slept through it. The idea still does things to him deep down.
Steve tries to keep his body from tensing up when she says Mister Jarvis. JARVIS had been Tony's AI and then he was Vision. Unfortunately for as well equipped as Steve has become he still has a big mouth that reacts before his brain can tell it not to. ]
That's who JARVIS was designed after.
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hard to trust people outside of this circle, steve says, and silently she acknowledges that he’s right. even when she’s got every reason to trust someone, even someone within her circle, she struggles. it’s not always that she distrusts their motives; sometimes it’s as simple as distrusting someone’s ability to navigate the shadowed, dangerous vocation to which she’s committed herself.
these thoughts are swirling in her head when she senses how steve stiffens. her body language reacts to his—and she has to wonder what she’s said that’s had such an effect. ]
—What do you mean. Designed?
[ it’s not quite a question. she frowns into his collar, but doesn’t yet raise her head from his shoulder. ]
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