The band on the The Stork Club stage struck up the next song and the room sprang to life. The band was on fire, with the drums laying down a beat that made feet want to move. Men sharply dressed in their finest, freshly pressed, dress uniforms, shoes polished to a mirror like shine, and then polished a little more, just for good measure, reached out to grasp the hands of sweethearts and take to the dance floor once again. The small basement club was filled by the sounds of the small band, doing a halfway decent job of sounding like a much larger orchestra. Men coming home from the European theater were excited to be back on US soil, far away from the horrors of war. Here they could put aside, at least for a short time, all the memories best forgotten and the pain of friends and brothers that had been lost. Sorrow was replaced with joy and gratitude, both to be alive, and to be in New York City. The night was alive with magic, and tonight anything was possible, as long as the band kept playing. This was true for most everyone at the dance that night, including the shapely brunette woman, standing off by herself, at the quiet end of the bar. While the drinks were definitely flowing, the bar was, for the most part, unoccupied with the attendees of the USO dance preferring to make the most of the dance floor. This was to be the last USO dance at The Stork Club, its doors closing for the foreseeable future. With the war over, there would no longer be the need to offer as many services to the brave men who had served and fought for their country. The overseers of the event wanted to go out with a bang, and no expense was spared in putting on this farewell shindig. Service men from far and wide were in attendance, and it seemed like the perfect place to celebrate. For the woman at the end of the bar, it was not so much a celebration as it was the final refuge for her hope. Margaret Elizabeth Carter had been to almost every USO dance that the Stork Club had hosted, hoping against hope that she would see Steve Rogers arrive at one of them. He had promised her a dance after all, and if it were one thing she knew about Steve, he always found a way to keep his promises. That first night at eight o'clock, she found her eyes glued on the door, taking note of every face that donned the doorway, expecting for the next one to be that of Steve. Face after face had walked into the club, but not the one she wanted so badly to see. Just stranger after stranger. The disappointment of that first night had lead to tears when she had returned to her flat. As had the one after, and the one after that, but only the first few times. The sting of dreams unfulfilled began to lessen with each dance, and Peggy began to find the dances as a way to sharpen her facial recognition skills, and work on her deductive reasoning. She would watch the soldiers, and spend the night trying to deduce where they had served, how long they had been away from home, and whether or not their approach of a young lady was going to get them the results they desired. To which the answer was a resounding no to each soldier that dared come her way. She always managed to be polite, telling the young man, that she was in fact waiting on a special someone, and that she wouldn't want him to enter and find her in the arms of another man. The majority of the time, that was enough. Occasionally, there would be an individual who would not be so easily dissuaded, usually after a drink or three, and she would have to use a firmer tone. Only one young man needed to placed in an arm lock, to be convinced that she was not just playing "hard to get". In the end, she was grateful that she didn't need to actually injure the young man to make her point, aside from his pride. She presumed he would be more respectful to women in the future, and learn that grabbing someone by the arm and trying to drag them to the dance floor was not behavior to be tolerated. Ultimately, she felt she had done the young man a favor, and taught him a lesson that would serve him well in life. After that incident, Peggy found that she was left to herself much more often. Her regular attendance of the dances hadn't gone unnoticed and she supposed she had developed some sort of reputation as a rather cold fish. Which didn't bother her in the least. She didn't much care what people said about her, as long as they minded their own business and didn't try and interfere with hers. She had, however, begun to question what it was she was trying to accomplish. The chances of Steve's survival of the plane crash seemed to diminish with each passing day, and she began to wonder if she wasn't acting like a foolish schoolgirl failing to accept a difficult truth. There were many times she told herself that Steve was gone and no amount of wishing that it weren't so was going to change that fact. Attending the dances was merely wasting her time, and inviting disappointment to young men who asked her to dance. That is what people were supposed to be there to do, after all. She would steel herself and say there was eventually going to have to be an event that she was going to miss, but when it came time to stay home she just couldn't do it. She couldn't bear the thought of having the dance that she missed be the one that found Steve Rogers walking through the door, having beaten back death itself to keep his promise, only to find that Peggy had forgotten hers. Just the possibility of such a scene was enough to make Peggy Carter put on her finest dress and head out to The Stork Club. However, tonight was different. Tonight was the final dance to be held at The Stork Club. Brave men were all coming home from the war, and the small spark of hope that remained in Peggy's heart had once again become a flame. Having attended more dances than she cared to remember, if Steve Rogers were to be in attendance of one, this would be the one. Peggy had always been a logical and practical person, and she could think of many reasons why Steve could make it to this dance after missing so many others. He was Captain America, after all. If anyone had any chance of surviving putting that plane down in icy waters it was him. Though Howard had been looking, and found no signs of Steve, or the plane, that didn't mean they weren't out there. Steve could have survived and been whisked off to some facility or another to recover from his injuries. Perhaps he had been placed on special assignment, and hadn't had the ability or opportunity to get in communication with her. Peggy had been in this game long enough to know that such outrageous scenarios were not only possible, but probable. In some cases, the more outrageous the scenario was, the higher the probability it could actually be true. Now that the was war over, Steve's duty would be complete. There was no denying what they felt for one another, and if he had survived the plane crash, Captain America would do everything in his considerable power to ensure that Steve Rogers was able to keep his promise. With this dance being the final event before closing the USO club in NYC, word had spread far and wide through the rank and file of the military. Service people who found themselves anywhere near New York on this night started making changes in their itineraries to enable themselves to attend. If there were one night for Steve Rogers to make good on his final promise to her, this was it. So for one final night, Peggy Carter found herself at her usual place at the bar, nursing her usual drink. Her eyes were taking in the room, but never far from the door waiting for the smiling face of Steve Rogers to come through it. Doing the impossible was just par for the course in the world of Captain America, and Peggy prayed that he could prove that just one last time.
The Stork Club had been filled with life and excitement from the very start of the evening. The band was actually quite good, and excited to be playing for such an eager crowd. It had been hard for her to keep track of all the faces at first. Despite her best efforts, Peggy found her heart was beating a little bit faster, and perhaps she had a little extra color in her cheeks as well. She would never admit it was due to the anticipation of the evening. "It must be a bit on the warm side in here" Peggy thought to herself. Trained field operatives did not find themselves blushing like schoolgirls, even for Captain America. Peggy kept to her post at the bar and eventually had the bulk of the faces in the room memorized. No Steve. The night was young yet, and with plenty more servicemen arriving all the time, Peggy felt the spark of her hope was not easily dampened. She was approached several times by men looking to dance, all of them accepted her polite refusal. The place was jumping and there were many young ladies to choose from. A lot of the men were not looking for any one particular partner, just someone who could help get them out on the dance floor. Peggy was here to dance, but she had someone very specific in mind. As the night wore on, the band had taken a couple of breaks, and had come back to do their last few numbers. The crowd had thinned, but The Stork Club was far from empty. Many of the service men were wanting to enjoy the night until they were told to take it elsewhere. Fewer and fewer new faces darkened the entry way, and once again, Peggy felt the flame of hope begin to flicker in the wind. Steve was not coming. He could not keep his promise. Peggy couldn't imagine a world where he would not come through for her, unless impossible. As would be the case if he were truly gone. The realization made her eyes well up in the corners. It made her feel silly, but the hope had been genuine, logical even. The perfect happily-ever-after to their fairy tale. It would have been the ultimate reward for all of the perseverance of the past few months. But it wasn't, because he was gone. One tear crept out of the corner of her eye and began to slide down Peggy's cheek. She quickly turned her back to the room to wipe it away with one of her gloved hands. "Ever the silly schoolgirl", she chided herself. "This is what becomes of believing in fairy tales." She had done her best. Though Steve had not been able to keep his promise, she had done everything in her power to keep hers. That would have to be enough. Reaching down, Peggy picked up her glass to toss back the watered-down remainder of her drink. She was going to go home. Slapping the empty glass back onto the bar top, Peggy felt a light, almost timid, tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a young awkward private standing in front of her.
"Excuse me, Ma'am. I've seen you standing here most the night. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed you've turned most of the fellas down, but I'm just not sure I could live with myself if I let this whole night go by without at least asking you to dance." Peggy took in the young man in front of her. He was certainly no Captain America, but there was something about him that reminded her of Steve. Maybe it was the fact that he was not particularly tall. Had she been wearing flats, he and Peggy might have been the same height, but in her heels, she definitely had him by an inch or two. He was in his dress uniform, but he didn't do much to fill it out. She could tell it had been pressed, but the way it fit him so loosely, made it bunch up and look wrinkled and disheveled. The private continued, "It's the last song of the night, ma'am. It's a slow one, and almost as pretty as you are. Would you like to join me on the dance floor?" Peggy was still blinking in surprise. "It's just one song," the private added as he extended a hopeful elbow for Peggy to slip her hand through.
"I don't know if you are being completely honest with me, private.."
"Jensen, Ma'am. Private Reginald Jensen, at your service". To add a little flourish Private Jensen gave a small bow. Peggy imagined this is what a polite pile of laundry would look like.
"Well, I don't know if you're being completely honest with me Private Jensen".
"Ma'am"? The private looked a little confused.
"Well, as you said, I have turned down a number of invitations this evening, many of which came from that small group of men whom seem so keen on watching us right now." Peggy motioned slightly with her head to indicate a small group of five men each with their arm around a young lady. They seemed to be talking close to one another and covering their mouths to hide smiles and laughter. "My guess is, that group is made up of a bunch of friends of yours, and this is meant to be some sort of joke." Private Jensen's eyes fell to the floor. "So tell me, Private, what are your intentions in coming over to me tonight. Am I meant to be amusement for you and your friends?"
Private Jensen looked up and his eyes found Peggy's. "I meant no disrespect, ma'am. You're right. Those fellas are some of the guys from my unit. They saw me looking at you and started giving me a real rough time about it. They said I was too yellow to come over here and ask you to dance. They bet me I wouldn't."
"I see. And how much did they wager? What was the price of your courage?"
"They bet me a nickel each that I didn't have the stuff to come over here and talk to you."
"So that was it then? You come over here, ask me to dance, and they give you twenty-five cents?"
Private Jensen's eyes found the floor again. "Yes ma'am". He took a bit of a step backward. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I really didn't. I just thought it was a good reason to do what I've been wanting to do all night, but couldn't seem to work up the moxy. Please have a lovely evening." The private turned to go back to his group defeated. Being who she was, and possessing the skills she did, Peggy had noticed the young private throughout the night. He had come into The Stork Club with a smile from ear to ear, excited for what the night might hold. As the evening had progressed the smile had begun to vanish as comrades took to tussling his hair, slapping him on the back, and generally having a good laugh each time a young lady declined his invitation. She had seen him get out on the dance floor once or twice, but always during a fast song, and not being the greatest dancer, he wasn't able to persuade his partners to give him more than one song. Private Jensen was no doubt the butt of the majority of the jokes in his unit, and with their evening wrapping up, the boys had no doubt set the young man up for one more set of laughs before calling it a night.
"So that's it then? You don't want to dance after all?"
Private Jensen turned back to Peggy quickly, a little confused.
"No ma'am, I mean, yes ma'am, I mean, if you would like to, it would be my greatest pleasure." Peggy walked up and slipped her hand around the young serviceman's arm.
"Private Jensen, I've told every suitor all night that I had been waiting to dance with someone special. It turns out, that someone is you."
Private Jensen's entire face lit up as he searched for words "Really, Ma'am? You'll really dance with me?"
"I really will." Peggy let Private Jensen guide her to the dance floor, and once there she grabbed his left hand and put it on her waist, while taking his right hand in her own. "Now, I expect I can trust you to behave as a gentleman?"
Private Jensen couldn't stop himself from smiling if he tried, but he wasn't trying. "Why Yes Ma'am, of course you can. You're in good hands with me."
"Very well then. Shall we?" Peggy let the young serviceman take the lead and slowly they began to move to the music.
"The band really is quite good," Peggy thought to herself, and the last song was a lovely one. She was grateful to enjoy it, take her mind off of her sorrow, and bring some joy to someone else. Private Jensen proved to be a man of his word. His hands didn't try to wander about her body, and he didn't try to press himself too close to her. He wasn't super light on his feet, but with some concentrated effort he was able to keep them moving gently with the music and keep his feet off of hers. As the song came to a close, Peggy shot a quick glance across the room to look at Private Jensen's friends. Their wide open mouths over her acceptance of his invitation had changed into smiles, and slow, approving nods. Not bad boys, just maybe not aware what it felt like to be the odd man out. When the last note fell into silence, Peggy pulled the young man close to her and gave him a warm embrace and a quick kiss on the cheek. She spoke softly in his ear. "Welcome home Private Reginald Jensen, and thank-you for your brave service." As she released the young man she could see his neck and cheeks were flushed, with a grin that truely spread from ear to ear.
"Yes ma'am, thank-you for the dance." The young man then turned and rejoined his group of friends who greeted him with open arms and much hair tussling. Peggy called after him, "Don't forget to collect your money. Those boys owe you. A nickel each." This elicited a burst of laughter from the servicemen, and more hair tussling for Private Jensen. Peggy took one last moment to look around The Stork Club. This was a bittersweet ending, but Peggy chose to focus on the sweet. This had been a good night to celebrate those who had made it home, and remember those who had not. With that final thought in mind, Peggy Carter retrieved her coat with a smile and a small tip for the girl working at the coat check desk, and headed out into the night.