Wow. Hopefully someone sees this, haha because we're close to midnight EST and I'm randomly typing. xD

This is for Sportsfan64, who asked for...well, it's all in the description...

"Steven. You're late." The mockingly accusing note in Peggy's voice was visible under the toll time had taken on it, making it a crackly ghost of its former self. Still, her voice was her voice, Steve reasoned as he rushed through the halls of the nursing home. He should've been glad it was just there.

"I'm sorry, Peggy, there was traffic and my alarm didn't go off and Tony was being Tony and asking where I was..." His excuses trailed off into nothingness as he caught the grin on her face, a slight hand beckoning to the already-placed wooden chair at her bedside.

"Do you really think I wouldn't know that?" she questioned as Steve cautiously lowered himself into the chair, careful not to break it. "I'm sure Howard Stark's spawn is exactly the same as he was. I don't doubt you for a second. Now," Her brown eyes twinkled with the slightest bit of mischief as he gulped. "How was your week, Steve?"

Glad to have been spared of any interrogation, Steve launched into a summary of the events that had been his week, including the absolute hell that had been his mission with Natasha in Lima. Of course, Peggy knew all about the enigma that was Natasha Romanoff-Steve hadn't hesitated in his earlier visits to wax poetry about his partner. She'd heard practically everything there was to hear about the spy.

This time didn't seem to be any different.

"There's something about her that just screams a mystery you'd want to find out about, you know?" Steve babbled, completely unaware to Peggy's train of thought. "And when we were in that bar, waiting for the mark to show up..." At that, he buried his head into his hands with a sigh. "I can't explain it, Peg, I really can't. There were just all of these guys ready to say some God-awful line, and I just...it wasn't a way a gentleman should treat a lady, Peg. I guess I'm just not used to that."

It was more of a question of whether he was jealous, Peggy mused, feeling that that was more likely than his 40's morals interfering with so delicate a mission. When it came to it, Steve would never let anything compromise a mission. She may have missed much of his life, but that much she knew.

"Natasha doesn't deserve to be treated like that, you know?" he asked, throwing his head back and settling into his chair. "She's so much more than everyone assumes. More than just a pretty face, more than a pair of sparkling emerald eyes, more than that smirk..." Steve sighed. "And the way she smirks. You never know what she's going to do with that smirk. She could either be your friend or your worst enemy."

"Well, that's how all women usually are," she joked. "One minute, we'll be lining up to get swept off of our feet, the next we'll have a knife at your throat, all for the reason that you didn't show up on time."

"That's the scary part." He cracked a smile. "I actually think she'd kill me if I didn't show up on time for things. Once, I was five minutes late to a team meeting, and I swear she gave me the death glare throughout the entire thing. I don't think I went five feet near her for a week after that."

Peggy laughed softly, a hollowed-out laugh that soon turned into a cough, Steve's visage quickly morphing into concern as he handed her a glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand. Pressing it to her lips, she drank gratefully until she'd recovered significantly enough to speak again. "I daresay you're not the only one,"

"Oh, I wasn't," Steve chortled, "The rest of them are all so scared of her. Even Clint, and he's the one who brought her in. They just don't see what I do," He suddenly grew somber again, a slight hint of sadness clouding his light blue eyes. "They don't see that under the cold demeanor lies a soul capable of caring for even the tiniest creature," he began. "They don't see how she's not afraid to laugh, hell they don't even know her laugh-it's unlike any other sound I've ever heard.

"It's like a good wine-full and layered and with so many components that I wouldn't even know where to start. You could pick it apart and it would sound just as good in its individual strands. It's got a way of making you feel at ease, but it can put you on edge at the same time. And it's rare," he finished, smiling slightly at the sound of Natasha's laugh in his head. "You hear it once in a blue moon, and even less in its true form." Steve shook his head. "I can count on my hand the number of times Natasha's laughed."

"I think you should bring her to see me." He stopped suddenly at Peggy's declaration, eyes widening.

"What?"

"You heard me." It took everything Peggy had not to smirk at the super soldier. "I've never met the lovely Miss Romanoff. And by the way you seem to describe her, she seems to be one worth keeping. I think you should bring her here."

"Well, you see-" Steve scratched the back of his neck, the tips of his ears beginning to flush red. "I don't exactly think that it's the greatest-"

"What harm could be done?" she exclaimed, perhaps a little too dramatically, for she had to clear her throat repeatedly before continuing. "She knows how you feel, no?"

The flush spread slowly to Steve's face, turning him a lovely shade of red. Bingo. She'd hit the mark. "Why, of course she does. What am I saying? You wouldn't be raving about her if she didn't. That does it," Peggy declared. "You are to bring Miss Romanoff with you the next time you visit."

"But-"

"No exceptions."

"Yes, Peggy," Steve murmured, slumping. "I'd better go. Tony's going to get suspicious again." He rose out of the chair, heading to the door.

Bring Natasha to see Peggy? Bring Natasha to see Peggy. The two loves of his life, both in the same room.

Now all he had to do was tell Natasha.

"Agent Romanoff."

"Agent Carter."

"It's just Peggy now, dear."

"Peggy. I keep forgetting."

Back during the era of the Cold War, when Peggy had been in the patriarchal ranks of the SSR, she, along with some of the Howling Commandos, had stumbled upon a learning institution for young girls. They'd found cuff marks on the bedposts, videos detailing brainwashing in the form of educational videos, and her.

She'd just been Natalia Alianova Romanova then, a frightened little girl who'd known no instinct but to fight against anything that posed the slightest threat. And fight she had, nearly killing Dugan and the rest of their team. It'd only been through sheer luck that they'd all gotten out alive.

Throughout the years, they'd continued to meet. Always on different sides, always with the other on their agenda. But for some reason or another, they'd never killed each other. Maybe it was the mutual respect they saw in each other-the only women in a world full of men-that kept them from ending the other. The only thing that had changed was Peggy's physiognomy, she slowly changing from a battle-hardened young woman to a woman who was fighting a battle on the outside as well as the inside. Throughout it all, Natalia hadn't changed a bit, a result of the partial makeup of serum they'd managed to recreate and inject into her bloodstream. Her aging signs had been slight, but her psychology had changed drastically.

Peggy wasn't sure when the change had happened. One encounter, she was a frightened and scared girl, lashing out at the slightest provocation, and the next, she was a trained, lethal assassin, planning out her moves with the utmost calculation. Her emotions had been shut away, Peggy supposed, either removed or pushed away to some unreachable part of her brain. It was something to be admired.

But then, one day, Natalia had been brought into SHIELD.

Peggy had been on the verge of retiring that year, ready to hand in her badge and gun. Even deskwork was becoming weary for her-her wrists ached with staying them in the same position for countless hours upon hours, days blending into days. It was time she sat back and enjoyed life. Something she hadn't done since she was a little girl.

All of that changed when Clint Barton brought her in.

She'd been present when Natalia had arrived, a permanent scowl on her face. In cuffs and sporting a nasty gash to the head, Peggy guessed that the spy had put up a real fight. Luckily, Peggy had had enough clearance to still gain access to the interrogation. The look on Natalia's face the moment she'd walked in would be one for the ages.

"You."

"Me. How are you faring, Miss Romanova?"

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm a SHIELD agent. Thought you would know by now that we know everything about you."

"You will never know everything about me."

"True as that may be, we can still try," Peggy had said to her, seemingly interested in her nails. "I've heard that Agent Barton is very convincing at times." The silence was more than enough for her to interpret correctly that yes, Barton was indeed doing his job. "And it seems like it may already be working."

The next time Peggy ran into Natalia, she was beating the living hell out of a punching bag in the training room. She'd put off her retirement for a couple of years, curious to see if the spy had retained her ways or aspired to changed. Looks like the latter was true. "Miss Romanova. Still here, I see." The redhead had stopped, unwrapping her hands and pivoting gracefully to the aging agent.

"It's Romanoff, actually," she'd said, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Agent. Romanoff."

Over time, the redhead had slowly come to warm up to Peggy, even taking the time to be social with the aging woman. One might even say they were friends, in a way. Friends that had once been enemies.

"What brings you here, Natasha?" Peggy asked with a slight raise of her eyebrow. "You never come unless it's urgent. You know as well as I do that you're quite adept at pushing aside emotions."

"I can't ignore this one." Natasha's quiet admission was a small rock dropped into a body of water, leaving soft ripples in its wake. "Love is for children, but I want to be childish." Peggy said nothing, only observed the spy with probing eyes.

"Why don't you tell me about them."

"God," Natasha sighed, curling up into the chair. She didn't normally display vulnerability to many people, but when she did, it was a deep journey into her soul, into depths that one normally didn't see. "Where would I even begin?"

"Let's start with your week," she answered gently, feeling that the process would be the same as with Steve's. "How was your week?" Of course, she knew all about the mission in Lima, about the gentlemen with the absolutely horrid personalities, about how they'd had to impersonate a married couple.

Some things were nice to hear from another perspective.

"We had to deal with these absolute assholes in Lima," Natasha snorted, mostly to herself. "I had all these guys try to buy me a drink in this bar. Normally, I wouldn't take this sort of stuff to heart, but I don't know-I had Steve next to me, and I suddenly felt so worthless, like I wanted to see him as more than I was, you know?" An arm was slung over her eyes in exasperation. "He doesn't deserve me. My past is so fucked up I'm surprised he's not running as fast as he can in the opposite direction."

You'd be surprised, Peggy noted mentally.

"It's just that he's so wholesome and good," she sighed. "He's everything that I wasn't-you remember," Natasha suddenly said to her. "There's no shadows to hide from, nothing to keep him up at night. And his eyes. You'd think they held every truth known to man," she explained. "They hold so much more than innocence," she reminisced quietly. "Of course, not everyone sees that. Stark just sees a blushing virgin that doesn't know anything about the world." This was accompanied by a scowl. "If he just took the time to get to know him, he'd figure out that Steve knows a lot more than he lets on.

"And that smile-oh, god, his smile," Natasha exhaled. "It's like you have to smile every time you see it, no matter how bad of a mood you're in. It's the smile of reassurance, but it's one of sadness, too. Steve's not just some guy," she rambled. "He's a man who's seen the horrors of war and doesn't want to relive them but does every night. I can hear him pacing around the common room at night, breathing and staring at the window and God knows what else. He's seen pain-felt it, known it, and thinks that he has to shoulder it alone. And that's what scares me the most," she admitted to Peggy, who'd stayed stoically silent throughout the entire confession. "I shouldn't want to be there. But I do."

"You two should come see me together."

The suggestion was brief, abrupt, and enough to jolt Natasha out of her stupor. "What?"

"Bring him to see me. I knew Steve, too, Natasha. Remember that." Right. The details of Steve's file swam all at once to the forefront of Natasha's brain, and she inwardly cursed to herself. She'd basically admitted that she had a crush on Captain America. In front of Captain America's ex.

"You must think I'm a horrible person."

"No, not at all." Peggy airily waved a hand. "I think you two are adorable together. It just surprises me that you two haven't come to see me at once, what with you two going steady and all."

Natasha almost choked. She and Steve? Together? "Steve...and I?"

"Of course!" the elder woman exclaimed with such a ferocity Natasha couldn't help but feel the slightest tinge of fear. "The only reason you're telling me all this is because you're afraid to tell it to him, am I right?" Her brown eyes were suddenly lasered on her green ones, searching for the truth. "Right?"

"Uh-uh-uhm...yeah," Natasha stuttered. "Steve and I are totally together. Actually, we'll come visit you together next time." And with that, the normally unflappable spy jumped to her feet and bolted out of the room.

Peggy chuckled. This was going to make for an interesting week or so.

Natasha didn't think she'd had anything scarier to do in her entire life.

Now, all she had to do was tell him.

Read and review? I don't think I'll keep this any longer than a one-shot, although if there are enough people that want to see it extended, I'll do it...