This is a work of fiction. All characters and premise belong to Marvel and Mirimax. Some quotes are taken directly from Kate & Leopold. They have not been cited.

It was a rather dusty day when Lady Margaret Elizabeth Carter, the Duchess of York, chose to go see the announcement of the Brooklyn Bridge. Even though it was not quite completed, it was an impressive sight. The man who designed the bridge was puffed up, like the birds she'd seen on her trips to the forest.

She sat in her navy colored riding suit, atop her black horse, with a drawing board resting against the steed's neck. She pretended not to notice the men eyeing her like some prized piece of meat. She pursed her lips and ignored them, continuing her sketch of the bridge.

She noticed the Duke of Albany, Leopold, beside her, doing the same thing, though, he was not on a horse.

She was meant to attend his ball tonight, where he would have to choose a wealthy young lady to marry. His Uncle Millard believed he would marry a wealthy lady from America. Her Aunt Mildred hoped he would choose her own wealthy niece. Margaret thought he was conceited and far too self-interested to be a decent husband.

Roebling, the architect, continued on his long winded speech. "As the pyramids testify to the Egyptians," He waved his hand to the bridge. "So my glorious erection shall represent our culture in perpetuity."

"Behold, rising before you, the greatest erection on the continent. The greatest erection of the age. The greatest erection on the planet!"

A sniggering alerted Margaret. She turned back and saw a man with an odd looking mustache and shoddy clothes that looked like he dragged them off the line before they were even dry. He was standing next to another man in similar attire, except this one had a shaved head. They both held odd devices that they held up to their eyes before writing something down in a small notebook.

She grew more suspicious when they were startled by the explosion of a camera.

"Hold this," she closed her drawing board and handed it to her valet, Angelina.

"Of course, ma'am. Shall I meet you at the house?"

"Please," she turned her horse around. Their eyes widened and the two men hurried off. She trailed after the one with the beard, but due to the congestion in the streets, she lost him when he and the other man separated in different directions. It seemed Leopold had followed them as well.

"Sir Leopold," she nodded politely.

"Lady Margaret," he gave a quick bow, before heading back to his valet.

A bit frustrated, she turned around and headed home to a handsome stone house on the other side of Brooklyn. She snuck inside, hoping her Aunt would not see her. No such luck.

"Margaret!" Aunt Mildred swooped into the room looking like the vulture she wore on her hats. This vulture just wore a white lace dress. "Why are you still in your riding clothes? And the gentlemen's style nonetheless! Get upstairs and wash up! The Duke of Albany is choosing a bride tonight and we can't let him pick an American."

Margaret winced at her aunts shrill, adenoidal voice continued on about how she was not a proper Duchess, she needed to find more ladylike activities, she needed to follow her duties, she needed to stop reading, heaven forbid her future husband knows she can box and fight.

"Yes, Aunt Mildred," Margaret replied automatically. It was easier just to agree rather than argue. Angelina wasn't going to tell on her when she did something unladylike.

"I've had enough," Aunt Mildred pinched her niece's arm to make sure she was paying attention. "You are twenty-one years old, Margaret. If you are not chosen by the Duke, I shall have to pick a husband for you. One that will not stand for any of your foolishness."

A husband that will beat her into place.

"Yes, Aunt Mildred," she swallowed back any protests. "May I be excused to ready myself?"

"You may."

She curtsied and left the room gracefully.

"I am locking up your horse, so don't get any ideas!" The old crone wagged her finger.

"Yes, Aunt Mildred." She trudged up to her room. She intended on doing as she was told, but now? Now, she was going to escape. She had no idea where though. She had bonds and money and silver and gold. Things she could sell. Things her greedy aunt didn't know about.

She could get a job. Eileen, the house seamstress, taught her how to sew and mend clothes. She was a rather good artist, she could sell water colors. She could enter horse races.

She tugged Angelina away from Eileen. "Flirt later, we have work to do. Quickly."

The young woman widened her green eyes. "What are you going to do?"

Margaret smiled and grabbed her valet and friend's shoulders. "I'm going to run away and be free from my aunt."

"Okay." Angelina said without argument and smiled. Only one question needed to be asked. "What do you need from me?"

"You know where I save my bonds and treasures. Pack them among some clean clothes in a suitcase. I will wear a pair of riding pants under my skirt so that I can disrobe along the way and make a run for it," She smirked. "Aunt Mildred always insists on taking separate carriages since her smoking makes me ill."

"Yes, madam," Angelina hustled about getting the suitcase ready.

Margaret readied herself. Luckily for her, at least on this night. She had a good excuse to wear her high-collared shirts. Aunt Mildred complained that if she had no breasts, she'd look like a man in those shirts, but did not make Margaret wear the low cut ball gowns other women wore. Some days, she would like to wear those pretty gowns, but a large scar marred her skin from center of collarbone to left shoulder. She didn't want it to be gawked at.

She chose her scarlet riding suit, for she had a long, flowing skirt that would match it. She went to grab it but, alas, it was nowhere to be found. She began to panic when the door opened. She whirled around, thinking it was her aunt.

Eileen, the seamstress, brought in the exact skirt Margaret was looking for.

"I made it so that you could get rid of it more easily." She winked.

Margaret never felt more grateful in her life. She wished she could give the two women something. Anything. But, they would be found out and punished.

She could not let that happen.

After she was fully dressed, she put on her mother's jewelry. The pieces she refused to sell. They did not look like much compared to other jewelry of the upper class ladies'. Merely an intricately painted locket on a small chain, small pearl earrings, and a brooch passed down from her mother's side bearing the face of Athena on a pink background surrounded by gold brocade.

Angelina coifed her hair. Against the trend, Margaret loved having her hair much more loose and curled, the only pins were the ones that held her bangs in fashionable rolls and/or coils atop her head.

Eileen returned and whispered to the two women. "I hid the suitcase just in the alley, it is hidden behind a crate."

Margaret kissed the two women on their cheeks. "I'll miss both of you terribly. I shall never forget you."

They bade their goodbyes and Angelina led the Duchess down the stairs to be inspected by her aunt.

The old woman harrumphed and turned up her nose. "Pity there aren't more feminine colors for your day dresses."

"Pity indeed, Aunt Mildred."

She waved her hand. "Go on now, or you shall be late!"

"Yes, Aunt Mildred," Margaret bit back a smile, curtsied, and headed outside to her carriage. She whispered her last goodbye to her valet.

The driver, who was in on this, drove her to where her suitcase lay. Luckily, it hadn't been touched. She hoisted it up and entered the carriage once more. She decided to make an appearance at the ball, to make sure her driver did not get fired either. He promised to guard her case, protected by a small key she hid by her breast, while she made her appearance.

He stopped at the entrance and Margaret felt a surge of anticipation. She was ready to be gone. She nodded to the men that made sure invited guests were the only ones that entered. As she hurriedly made her way over to the loudmouth of the party, she bumped into a woman with blonde hair and a silver dress.

"I beg your pardon."

"Sorry, excuse me."

Margaret said her hellos to the group of women, then excused herself to powder her nose. She slipped out the servant's door and found her driver.

She felt a surge of relief pass through her. She had her doubts about him leaving her.

"Good luck, madam," he smiled kindly.

"Thank you, Daniel."

She turned on her heel and dashed into the night. Something in her viscera telling her to go to the East River. To her luck, it began to rain heavily. She shed the heavy skirt and continued on her way.

Someone caught her eye. The man from before. "You!" she called out.

His eyes widened and he took off running. She followed in pursuit. Who was he?

She chased him all the way to the bridge. At the top, lightning flashed in quick succession showing two men leaping over the edge, disappearing long before they hit the water.

There. It was insane, but that was her way out. She stared at the tall ladder and saw the scruffy man.

"Take me with you!" She called. Scanning her surroundings, she found a long piece of rope for her to strap her case to her body. Desperately, she scaled the ladder, catching up to the man.

"Stay back!" He held up a small device as he stood near the edge.

"No." Her eyes widened at lightning hit her chest. She gasped in pain and horror when she realized it was coming from his device. She grabbed onto him just as he leapt. Leaving him no choice, but to take her with him.

She spiraled into dizzying blackness.

Steve Rogers entered his apartment exhausted. He had to stay late for a test screening for a new product. He put together a snack for himself and started a bath, scooping in some decongestant salts.

Loud thumping startled him and he glared up at the apartment above his. He hoped it would settle down, but Jarvis was barking up a storm.

He frowned. Abandoning his snack, he got out onto the fire escape and scaled the one flight. He peered into the window to see what was going on.

Tony, his ex-boyfriend, was already moving on with some street actor. The chilly night air hit his lungs and he broke out into a coughing fit, so before he could alert Tony to his presence, he scrambled back to his apartment and called Tony on his house phone.

Sure enough, it went to voicemail.

"Tony! I want my palm pilot back! Don't ignore me, I know you're home," he said, agitated.

They'd only broken up a few months ago, so things were still getting sorted out. The only time Tony acted quickly was when Steve needed his B12 Vitamins… and his inhaler. But other than that, heels were dragged.

Steve wondered how so many of his things ended up at Tony's apartment. He also wondered where it all went wrong.

"Tony, give me my palm pilot back," he said again and this time, his Ex answered.

"Hey, I'm a little busy right now," Tony growled. "Besides, it's one in the morning."

"Clearly you're awake. So what's the big deal?"

"I can't talk right now, I'm expecting a call," he hung up.

Steve stared at the phone glared at the phone indignantly. When Jarvis kept barking, Steve got an idea. He dug through the remote control basket on his coffee table and pulled out the shock collar.

He raised it to the ceiling and heard the poor dog yelp. When he was sure Tony had it he pressed it again. The muffled scream and consequent thud told him he succeeded. He grinned and pumped his fist triumphantly in the air.

He grabbed the phone off the side table and called Tony once more.

"You know what Tony? You know what? I'm—"

"Please, I got somebody here okay?" he said exasperatedly.

"I know, I saw him," Steve snapped.

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did!"

"It's a her, if that's any sort of consolation to you." he huffed.

"Ohh, and how many times did you ask me if I was going to leave you for a woman?"

"I'm not sleeping with her," he huffed. "Just, go to bed."

"Uh-uh," he said. "Do not hang up on me Tony

"Steve, come on. Something big is happening. Something that validates my entire life..."

"Something that validates your entire life, well that explains where we went wrong. What could that possibly be?"

"Are you sitting down?"

"Yes."

"No, you're not. Sit."

"Yes, I am," Steve argued, even though he was standing.

"No, you're not."

"Fine," Steve plunked down into the nearest chair. "I'm sitting."

"I found it."

He could hear Tony's smile which made him even more sour. "What did you find?"

"The portal," he replied. "It was over the East River, Steve, just where Stuart and I predicted. A crack in the fabric of time."

"You found the portal," Steve said flatly.

"I jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge. It was 1876 old New York. Stuart followed the Duke of Albany. Are you listening?"

"Raptly," Steve said sarcastically.

"I ran into the Duchess of York and here's the kicker," he snickered.

"What's the kicker?" Steve wanted this conversation to end.

"She followed me home," he whispered.

Bullshit. "So, the Duchess of York… followed you home through a crack in time."

"She was said to be a brilliant woman in her day. She trained as a fighter at the King's Academy."

"You know what Tony?" Steve interrupted. "You know what? I'm not your boyfriend anymore, I haven't been for a whole month now. You can tell me the truth."

"I am telling the truth."

"You can tell me you picked up a drag queen in Times Square," he shouted. "I don't care!"

"You know what Steve? This is it right here. This is it, in a nutshell our downfall. You never, not once, believed in me."

"Oh, I did Tony," Steve gripped the phone. "I did, for three years and I got burnt."

"You used to be so nice and trusting and now look at you! You're bitter and a cynic."

"At least I see reality instead of chasing after time portals."

"Okay, you wanna know who she is?" he said. "I'll tell you who she is. She is a hacker. High End. English. I know her from Columbia. She's in town for the Mac Expo at the Javits. We went out, got a little sloppy on Guinness and whiskey, and she passed out on my couch."

He was a bad liar.

"And that's the truth?" Steve asked, sitting on his bed.

"Mm-hmm, that's the truth." Tony got a hint of sarcasm. "Are you happy now? Was that plausible enough for you and your little focus group?"

"You know what, Tony?" Steve wanted the conversation to end. "I wasted the best years of my life on you."

"Those were your best?"

Steve clenched his jaw and blinked back the tear that threatened to fall.

"I'm sorry," Tony actually did sound sorry. "You'll get your palm pilot in the morning."

He hung up, sat back and let out a sigh which turned into a cough. He got up and readied himself for bed, swallowing the handful of prescription pills he had to take just so he could make it to work in the morning. He pulled out his hearing aid and put it into his box.

Jarvis barked a couple more times before eventually settling down for the night.

Steve managed to sleep too. But it wasn't peaceful.