Title: The Right Partner
Author: Sofipitch
Fandom: Captain America (Movie)
Word Count: 890
Summary: There was a question as to whether she really needed to talk to this man about her personal affairs
Warnings: Spoilers
Even though there wasn't much point other than symbolism and mourning, Peggy still ended up going to the Stork club. She wore the black dress she had been hoping to wear for Steve one day, to could see his jaw tremble in an effort not to drop and him blink rapidly, and she wore elegant boots with heels, which would've kept her feet covered and protected if he stepped on them. She put her hair up with a ribbon and waited.
At first she waited near the door, it seemed logical for person waiting for some to arrive, but eventually her feet began to hurt and she moved over to the bar. It took her a while to work up the courage to order some wine. Alcohol consumption while mourning was weak and she had no intention of ending up shit-faced drunk just because a friend of hers died. She was stronger and better than that.
"Did you get stood up?" She turned around surprised when someone seated right next to her spoke up. "I don't mean to sound weird or anything, but I've been watching you for a while and it seems like you were waiting for someone. But they didn't show did they?"
There was a question as to whether she really needed to talk to this man about her personal affairs, and on most days she wouldn't. But it seemed she felt lonely and it seemed that she could invite a stranger's conversation in for once. "I already knew he wouldn't show up."
"Then why did you come?" The man's eyes bore into hers, showing honest curiosity for a woman's well-being. He had piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold years of kindness and good humor to them. They also held a brightness and motivation in them she distinctly remembered someone else to also have. It hurt to look at them, so she looked down at her wine glass. "I guess I thought that by actually showing up I wouldn't hurt as much as I did, or have been."
He put his elbow against the counter and leaned against it. "So, did it work?"
Peggy decided that this was where the friendliness would stop. It seemed she realized why she didn't normally have conversations with kind men. She shrugged and didn't bother to turn to look at him. "I'm still not quite sure what I feel."
And there the conversation ended. There was only so much the male mind could try to understand of female emotions. When she didn't give more of an opening for him to continue and turned away from him in disinterest, it seemed this man had filled his brain capacity. She was avoiding the question, it seemed—was—weak, but it's not like she knew what else to do. You don't just go on talking about your emotions to random men. Even if they began the conversation, they couldn't possibly want to hear her rambling on and on about how she loved this man and how much she missed him.
She sat alone for what she guessed was a few more minutes, trying to drown out the love song being played by the band at the other end of the room. She would hate to admit it, but love songs brought him to mind and made her feel as if she were… Maybe slow was the word, she couldn't be sure, but she knew she should've just kissed him much earlier than she had. But then again, doing so might've made the aching feeling in her chest stronger and less tolerable.
The man next to her set down his drink with an audible clink, and got up from his seat, but left his coat still hanging from the chair's back.
"Look, my name's Spencer, and you look like you could use some company. Would you like to dance with me?"
Kind people had never failed to amaze her and maybe, on another day, if he still weren't here, she would accept Spencer's offer. But dancing was symbolic and while still mourning, still feeling like she had just lost her best friend, she felt as if accepting this stranger's offer would be treason. All of the sudden she was overwhelmed with this incredible urge to cry. She shook her head quickly and turned away, hoping that if she did begin to cry, he wouldn't see it.
"I understand." He grabbed his coat. "But the offer's open, anytime you want." And he exited the bar.
Anytime was an odd thing for someone to say to a stranger, but that was all that managed to register through her brain. She was tired didn't need to be worrying about too many things. Kind people had always managed to confuse her, and kind men were the queerest of things.
Maybe one day, when her battle wounds had healed and she felt willing to let other people back into her life, she would accept his offer to dance. Her perfect dance partner had slipped right through her fingertips, but that didn't mean other men weren't also willing to try with her. It would take a long time, but she didn't think that completely giving up just yet would've been something Steve would've wanted her to do. He would've still wanted her to dance, even if he could only watch.