Felicity and the First Avenger : Reel Extras (Arrow - Captain America Crossover)

The Sidewalks of New York

A/N: This is a prequel to Felicity and the First Avenger. I wavered on whether I should publish it separately (I did elsewhere) since it's Steggy, not Caplicity and it's almost a year before Steve meets Felicity at all. However, it's an important setup in a lot of ways (not the least of which is Peggy giving Steve a a kick in the butt before she canonly gets to do it in TWS) but for other events which happen in F&TFA, and canonly, Steve doesn't know what happened in AC, for all we know.

So fair warning: If Steggy is not your speed (unless you like the thought of some closure and a little bit of a kick in the teeth to AoU) you may want to skip this one. (Selfishly, it's one of my 'ships so I was glad to have the excuse!)

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR AGENT CARTER SEASON 1.

Prompt: Steve's first Veterans Day, Steve/Peggy

Song Title: The Sidewalks of New York (written by James Blake/Charles Lawlor - 1894)

I do not own these characters or properties nor do I profit from this work. All rights, all characters and any and all quotes are owned by or attributed to Marvel.

This fic is dedicated with respect and gratitude to all those who have been in or are in military service, and with deepest appreciation for the sacrifices you've made.

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Dépaysement [de-peiz-mɑ̃] (French) (n.) 1. Disorientation felt when one is in a foreign country or unfamiliar surroundings. 2. A change of mental state or feelings as a result of any major life event. 3. (anthropology) The experience of reseeing, to leave one's culture to face something unfamiliar and upon returning home, finding it has become strange, but can also be seen with fresh eyes.

See: Steve Rogers on the first Veterans Day after his return from the ice.

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Steve hesitated at the entrance to the walkway of the Brooklyn Bridge, his hands resting on the handles of Peggy's wheelchair. She appeared to have nodded off, as she had a few other times during the day, her head bent so her chin tucked into her scarf. Against the red wool, her softly wrinkled skin looked like fine, well-worn linen. She sat so still he held his own breath until he saw the slight rise and fall of her chest.

After the initial shock when he'd first seen her again, he'd stopped noticing the physical changes. Instead he focused on his Peggy, the strong, vibrant woman beneath the brittle shell. Days like today, when she was sharp and entirely herself, he could almost forget her age and frail health, how little time they had left. Reminders always jarred him, but today, it was a sucker punch.

Just then, she snapped awake and straightened, alert once more.

"Why have we stopped? Surely I've not worn you out so soon," she teased.

"Just got to thinking, is all," he half-lied. "You know, we've already hiked all over the city today. It'll take us a while to get across. Maybe we should let you get some rest and do this tomorrow."

"Absolutely not." Despite the crackle of age in her voice, she was as crisp and decisive as if she were drilling the SSR recruits. "You might be called away on assignment between now and then and we'll have lost the chance to go. And it is a lovely night. One would hardly believe it's November."

"Fine," he surrendered. "Your chair's gonna bounce like popcorn on those planks, though. Could I carry you, at least? Should be a lot more comfortable for you that way."

"I do appreciate the thought, but I've never needed a man to carry me anywhere. I'm not about to start now." The playful quirk to Peggy's lips robbed the words of any sting. "My bones can survive a few bumps. If you persist in finding objections, Captain, I'll conclude you don't wish to walk out with me after all."