In which Peggy wakes up assuming Steve is dead, and Steve wakes up assuming he'll never see her again. They both are very, very wrong.
-a fanfiction starring Peggy Carter and Steve Rogers
-started June 17, 2018
-highest ranking: #1 in steggy
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Steve is fairly certain that, despite the fact that a murderer is on the run and his best friend is on another continent, he is the happiest he has been in a long time.
"Maybe you shouldn't admit that, given the present circumstances," Peggy reminds him softly, bumping her knee against his. The two of them are sitting next to each other in the quinjet, and Nat and Sam keep exchanging glances, eyes darting across to them and back.
After another moment of awkward silence, Peggy announces, "We didn't sleep together."
Steve's face goes strawberry-red, Sam groans, and Nat laughs as the Falcon digs in his pocket.
"You bet on it? Come on, guys," Steve says, shaking his head. "Do we not have more important things to worry about?"
"The important thing is that I was right," Nat says with a cheeky grin, holding up the crumpled ten-dollar bill Sam had passed her before pocketing the cash.
"Debatable," Peggy says, but she's fighting back a smile.
"Not sure if I should be offended or not, but can we focus up here please? You too," Steve says to Peggy, elbowing her.
"We can't focus when you're being so touchy, man, it's distracting!" Sam counters, gesturing between Peggy and Steve. "Y'all are like teenagers. I know you age slowly but I didn't know you age backwards now too."
"Oh, shove off, Wilson." Peggy chuckles before standing up and moving to the mission table in the center of the jet. Pressing a button, she pulls up a virtual map of what they can only be Siberia. "I'll focus up if everyone will just behave like adults for one moment. Because no, I am not aging backwards." She raises an eyebrow, waiting for a comment, but no one has the courage to argue (well, perhaps Nat has the courage, she just knows better). They all gather around as Peggy starts her brief.
"Right," Peggy continues. "Bucky is now safely in Wakanda, which means we have one less thing to worry about. Stark has sent us coordinates for here." Peggy presses a button, and the map zooms in, revealing a red dot in a remote location. "He did some digging, and also found this." Another push of a button, and a photo of their fake psychiatrist pulls up.
"There's the bastard," Sam mutters.
Carefully combed hair, a hint of stubble, a downturned mouth, and round cheeks. "Baron Zemo," Peggy reveals. "Sokovian. Records show his wife and child were killed in Ultron's attack."
"And he blames us," Steve surmises matter-of-factly.
"Yep," Peggy says. "We're still not sure how he managed to gain access to so much confidential intel, but what he lacks in brawn he clearly makes up for in brains. We have every reason to believe that he's there to wake up the other Soldiers."
"I still can't believe there are more Winter Soldiers out there. I can't even stand the one, no offense," Sam says with a glance at Steve.
"None taken. And however far you think Hydra will go, multiply it by ten and they'll still go farther," Steve shakes his head, eyes never leaving Zemo's photo. Peggy watches his face carefully, noting the clench of his jaw and the steel in his eyes. "We have to stop this."
"Which is why Stark is heading to Hydra's Siberian facility as we speak," Peggy says. "We need to be prepared for anything."
"Especially now that multiple governments are after us for stealing away Barnes," Natasha says, and all eyes fly to her. "They're accusing us of breaking the Accords."
"Well we're about to break them more, I'm afraid." Peggy stands tall, turning off the bright display, sending both the map and Zemo's portrait away from view. "Gear up. ETA is an hour and 25 minutes."
———
No corner of the quinjet is truly secluded, but Peggy and Steve have found the one that's the most shadowed. Steve has his Captain gear on but his helmet off, and Peggy takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of him as he tightens the straps on his shoulders that will hold his shield. His wide shoulders, narrowing to his hips. Peggy can't help but wonder if he truly is the perfect man inside and out.
Steve sits on a bench in the corner, jolting Peggy out of her reverie. The agent moves to sit across from him, the space so tight that she slides her knees in between his. "Oh hey," Steve says with a smile, grasping her hands gently.
"Oh hey," Peggy responds, squeezing his hands back. She rubs her thumb across his hand, and she swears she sees Steve's pupils dilate even more in the shadows. "Are you ready for this?"
Steve's jaw clenches, and he looks down at their joined hands. "When I crashed that plane into the ice, I did it under the assumption that Hydra died with the war. With the Red Skull. Then I wake up and I'm running around Times Square like a madman. I'm recruited by SHIELD because they knew me well enough to know I wouldn't know what to do with myself. And then SHIELD turned out to be Hydra anyway, and I died for nothing." Steve clears his throat. Swallows. Peggy is silent, letting him take his time. "But Bucky was alive, and it's like if I can finally do this, if I can finally destroy what broke him so badly, it'll make up for all of the damage I caused by working for the wrong people. So yeah," Steve finishes, finally looking into Peggy's eyes. "I'm ready to watch the last of their work go up in flames."
There's a fire in Steve's eyes like the one he describes, and it makes Peggy's chest ache. She wants to ease the guilt and hurt and anger he's clearly felt and suppressed for so long. Society has crushed him into the mold of America's golden boy, and he has fought to be the man he was in the war. Clearly his emotions are bursting at the seams.
Peggy leans forward, and their lips meet in the middle. It's a short kiss, and Peggy pulls back just enough to rest her forehead against Steve's. "I'm glad I'm here to help. I helped found SHIELD. I unknowingly maintained Hydra's presence within my own walls. I'm ready for it all to end. Too bold of Zemo to think he can use Hydra to take us out. They're the ones we'll fight the hardest against. He's underestimated us both."
Steve let's go of Peggy's hand, but only to run his fingers through her hair, not yet tied up for action. "I know I can't ask you to stay safe. To hang back, to leave the danger to me. But I want to."
Peggy pulls back just enough to meet Steve's gaze. "Well I suppose it's the thought that counts, hm?"
Steve's chuckle makes Peggy smile. "I love you, Peggy," he murmurs, pulling her close for another kiss.
Peggy waits for a moment, too focused on the feeling of his lips on hers before replying. "I love you too," she whispers against his mouth. "I'm sorry for constantly getting lipstick on you."
Steve's laugh is louder this time, his hands moving to grab hers once again. "Is this an inappropriate time to admit that I've imagined having your lipstick on me since almost the moment I've met you?"
"Naughty, naughty, Rogers," Peggy scolds, loving his brashness. "When we make it out of this I might have to show you what that's like, if you can handle it."
"Naughty yourself," Steve responds with a grin. He leans into her hand as Peggy wipes the smudge of red on his lips off with her thumb.
"You shaved," Peggy comments suddenly, brushing her reddened thumb on her uniform.
"You sound disappointed."
"I don't know, I think you'd look ruggedly handsome with a beard."
"AHEM." Peggy and Steve jolt as Sam's harsh cough stirs them out of their flirtation. "If you two are done being gross, we're here."
- - - A/N:
I'm baaaaack. Sorry for the extra-long hiatus. Life happens lol. Just a few chapters left now 👀
After I'm done with this I might edit it and put it on Ao3, along with another fic I'm thinking of cooking up. Would anyone be interested in a modern coffee shop type AU?
