Words: 2.9K
Warnings: none, unless you count major feels as one.
There's something magical about a Friday night in New York City. Your true love and longtime boyfriend Steve Rogers has planned for a night in the big city and away from your quaint little home in the outskirts of the New York countryside—just a five minute drive from the top secret Avenger's compound. That's where you met, of course. He'd been the world-famous superhero and you the fearless inhuman with the eerie abilities. Now your everyday lives involve a bit of world-saving chaos, a fair amount of unpredictably, stability through your connection to each other, and an insane amount of love.
"You almost ready, babe?"
You huff. Steve's loud voice startled you and caused the red lipstick to smudge while you try to carefully draw it on.
"Almost! Five minutes!"
"You said that ten minutes ago!"
You roll your eyes. He's more impatient tonight than he usually is. Maybe it's because the restaurant he's got reservations for is so expensive and the drive is nearly two hours long.
"We'll make it, honey. Don't stress."
You hear the TV channels change as he's flicking through them lazily. "I'm not stressing. I'm just excited."
"You sound tense," you tease. You pop your head out of the bedroom and into the hall. You see him perched on the couch with his tie perfectly knotted and tucked. His neck cranes back to look at you. His blue eyes sparkle when he catches sight of you.
"Jesus Christ, babe. You look amazing." His grin is giddy and wide. "You think I'm tense now? Wait until I have to look at you like that all night without getting to touch you." God, he can be such a cheeky bastard when he wants to be.
You laugh. Even after three years he can make you blush. "Oh hush it, Cap." You hurry back into the bedroom before shouting, "But thank you."
The bedroom door softly shuts. You kneel down to search the pile of shoes there by the wall to find the black heels to best go with the satin emerald green dress you wear. It's nearly Christmas, so this color seemed most fitting for the Holiday season.
You find the shoes and then quickly slide them on. Your hand reaches out to grab the door when your body freezes—limbs and chest overcome with that familiar ice-cold feeling that your powers bring. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You really didn't want to do this tonight... you were looking forward to a night alone with Steve.
Still standing towards the door, you can feel a presence appear behind you. It's strong and distinct, and you know you've never met this one before.
"Hello, darling."
The strong British accent surprises you. Your interest is peaked, and the next thing you know you're turning around to face the apparition. Sitting on the edge of your bed is a classic beauty with curled chestnut hair and bright red lips much like yours. She's got on a fitted blouse the color navy blue. Her eyes are the same foggy grey that all the spirits have—but hers are much less dull than most others.
The woman smiles in a cheeky way. She's got dimples. "You recognize me." It's not a question, but a statement. She's smart enough to see the familiarity on your shocked face.
"Well—yes. Of course I do," you stutter. You take a few steps away from the door closer to where she sits on your unaffected bedspread. "But I just don't understand..."
"What's your confusion, darling?" Her head tilts to the side slightly as she questions you. God, she's more beautiful in person than you could ever have imagined. Those pictures in the Compound do her no justice.
You walk closer to the ghost on heeled feet. She scoots slightly to one side of the bed—Steve's side—and gestures for you to sit next to her. You sink slowly onto the mattress and say, "You've been dead for years, Agent Carter. I thought you would've moved on by now." The voices of the dead can come to you no matter the circumstances of their deaths, but a vision of the deceased is quite rare—they only come to you for some sort of help or closure. They can't move on without it. Your power is both a blessing and a curse.
"I had a bit of unfinished business I had to see through," Peggy Carter explains. Her vintage perfume is strong like lilacs.
You stare at the floorboards beneath your feet. "Is it about Steve?"
Peggy says, "Partly." You bring my eyes up to meet hers when she sounds like she's got more to say. "But mainly, it has to do with you."
"Me?" you question. You've helped a lot of spirits into the afterlife, but none of them have had unfinished business with you personally.
Peggy nods with a light laugh. Her eyes sparkle. She seems to find your clueless face amusing. "Yes, Y/N. I've stuck around a bit longer than normal so I could see you—so that I could meet you."
"But why me?" You give your head a brisk shake to allude to your confusion.
Peggy lets out a long breath. She rises to her feet—skirt slightly swaying with a nonexistent breeze as she walks to the dresser. Atop the furniture is a framed picture of Steve and you in Disney World. He's wearing one of those stupid Mickey Ear hats and you've got on a silver studded crown. He's kissing your cheek while you laugh and hold his chin. Peggy picks up the frame and inspects it quietly. There's a dreamy smile on her face that you find yourself studying closely. What is she thinking? What is she even doing here? You'd hoped she'd moved on long ago. Steve had always been secretly upset that she'd never reached out to him through you in the afterlife. You always reassured him that no news was good news and she was peacefully at rest. But now you realize that wasn't the truth.
"Steve's a good man," Peggy says—breaking you out of your thoughts. She carefully sets the picture back in its place. "But you already know that." She turns to regard you in the same intent way you look to her. "I know that you've had your doubts about him though." You open your mouth to argue but she holds a stern finger mid-air. You immediately hush. You don't interrupt Agent Carter. "Doubts about whether he really loves you as much as the world knew he loved me."
At her words your skin grows colder. Your stomach takes a wobbly turn. She knows your deepest fear—the fear of never living up to the woman he sacrificed so much for: the one he lost the American Dream with. He would've done anything to be in her arms for so long, how could you be sure that he didn't still long for her beside him in the middle of the night?
"Darling, there's no need to look so trodden." She offers a kind smile and you try to reciprocate the gesture. Peggy sighs. She wrings her hands together then comes closer. "Y/N, I've waited a long time to tell you this. I've spent a lot of years now watching over you. And I'm here to tell you now that you're so much stronger than you think. And to that, you've got a stronger hold on Steve's heart than you could ever even imagine." A smile tugs at one side of your lip. You feel her silken ghost-hands wrap around yours. She holds your wrists and sits beside you once again.
"Really?" you manage to squeak.
Peggy nods. "Steve did love me, yes. I loved him, too. But those days are long gone, Y/N. There was a lot of potential for him and me to have a great life... but sometimes things don't work out. And sometimes it ends up being for the best." She pushes a lock of hair from your eyes. You feel her touch cool and whispering on your cheek. "And in this case, I know it was for the best. If only you could see the way he looks at you, darling. I can feel it from him—he loves you with more of his heart than he even knew he could. The potential he had to love me fueled him for a little while, but he's the man he is now solely because of you."
You feel tears in your eyes. "Peggy, I..." Your voice cracks and you can't find the proper words.
"Please don't ever feel pity for me. I am filled with nothing but love for you both. You're good for Steve and I know that every day that he's with you he's a happier man." She's nearly crying now, too. "He deserves a happy life. For a long time I wished I'd been the one to be able to give it to him, but now that I've seen you... well, I know that there's no one more suited for him. "
You take a hard swallow.
Peggy laughs. "Look at us—wallowing like little girls." You join her chuckling as she wipes her face. You don't bother smearing away the tears from yours.
"Is this why you stayed? To talk to me?"
"I needed to make sure Steve would be alright. I saw you make your way into his life, and I wanted to be able to see it through. And then I wanted to make sure that little flicker of self-doubt you have in your chest—the one that I unknowingly lit—was put out before it could light a fire that would destroy your chances at a life with him." You nod in acknowledgement of what she says. She takes a deep breath. "You'll take care of him for me?"
"Always." You offer her a sad smile.
You feel her hand lay atop of yours. "You're his whole world, Y/N. Don't forget that."
"I won't," you promise her very sincerely.
Peggy's ruby red lips open again to speak, but before she can get the chance the bedroom door is opening wide. Her eyes dart to the doorway where your boyfriend now stands. You see the look in her eyes—the sadness mixed with the relief. She takes in the expression on his face when he first sees you sitting on the bed, seemingly by yourself, with big streaks of mascara tears running down both cheeks.
"Oh my god! What happened?" Steve gasps. He rushes to your side and takes your face in his hands—unknowingly kneeling just in front of where Peggy Carter sits. His thumbs delicately try to erase the tears from your cheeks. "Honey what's wrong? Talk to me, love." You see the adoration in his eyes and then see the smile crossing over Peggy's lips. She looks so... happy.
"I'm fine," you croak unsteadily. You close your eyes and try to calm yourself. "I'm fine."
Clueless, Steve glances around the room. "Is someone...?"
"Yes," you tell him. "Someone's here."
Steve grows a bit stiffer. He's never been fond of ghosts. "Oh, oh I see." He strokes some hair behind your ears. "You gonna be alright? We can reschedule tonight."
You see Peggy vigorously shaking her head. Slightly taken aback by her strong disposition to that offer, you chuckle a bit. "No, Steve. It's alright. I'll be good to go."
"Go with him now." You hear Peggy's voice and look again to where she sits. Steve notices the shift in your attention and stares wide-eyed at the empty spot on the bed.
"Are they still here?" Steve whispers like the ghost is unable to hear.
Peggy laughs, and you do too. Steve can be so clueless.
"Yes," you tell him.
"I'll give you a minute..."
"No," you take his hand and say before he can disappear. "Don't leave."
Steve nods. "Alright, babe." He looks to the spot next to you. "Do I know them?"
You look to Peggy. She gives her head a shake. She doesn't want you to tell him.
"No," you lie. "You wouldn't know them."
Steve nods. He really believes you.
"Go on," Peggy urges. She gives you a soft push. You stumble off the bed and Steve catches you. She smirks widely. "Go out on the town with him—show him a real good time. And do me a favor and teach him how to properly dance." She winks, seeming the happiest in the moment than she's been this whole meeting. You could never imagine seeing the love of your life with another woman and being so happy, but perhaps death changes your perspective on things.
"You okay?" Steve asks. He's waited until it looks like you're not listening to someone else before asking.
"Yeah, I'm ready to go."
"We can wait if you want," Steve says.
"No, they insist." You smile at him as he helps you to your feet. "I think they're happy now." Peggy gives you a smile.
Steve holds out a hand. "You may have to fix the tear stains in the car, but at least we've got a bit of a drive."
"Are you trying to insult me, Captain?" you tease him mercilessly.
He chuckles; wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head. You walk away from the bed. "I'd never dream of insulting my best girl."
You look back over my shoulder. Peggy's there, watching you both with so much hope and joy in her sparkling eyes. When you turn your eyes back to the front to watch your footing out the door, you hear a whisper in your ear: "Thank you, Y/N." And when you look back once more, Peggy Carter is gone.
Steve stops when you do. You've got shivers at her exit. It brings tears to your eyes—she's finally going to move on.
Steve's nose crinkles as he takes a deep whiff of the air. "Do you smell that?" he asks. Before you can answer, he adds, "Smells like lilacs. Kinda familiar, too."
You smile a bit at the little gift Peggy left behind. "I smell it too, hon."
"Huh." He looks a bit lost in thought for a moment. Then Steve shrugs then grips his hand around yours. "What do you say, doll? Ready for our date?"
"Always, Cap."
It's only five hours later when Steve Rogers proposes to you with a big diamond ring in Central Park. Its six months past that and you're wearing a white dress with long lace sleeves and a veil in the church across from his primary school in Brooklyn. Then a year goes by and there's a nursery in your house bedded for two—twins that will be born and brought home in the next few months. Then there's the day that Steve first lays the baby girl into her bed and you the brother—their hands and feet so small that you want to cry just looking at them. Margaret Natasha Rogers and James Anthony Rogers are what you've named the two blonde babies. And it's on that day as you and your husband, both so proud and happy, stand above your children's cribs; you know that Peggy Carter was really right. There's nothing sweeter in this world than your life with Steve.
And to that thought, the wind rustles through the open window of the nursery—bringing in the sweet, sentimental smell of springtime lilacs.