We Took the Floor and She Said...
The first time Steve hears Shut Up and Dance by WALK THE MOON, he is down at the bar with some friends and sipping a cherry coke next to Bucky and Sam. They showed up there every Saturday night, since the fall of freshman year, and he hated it. The place was loud and obnoxious, smelled like sweat and sex; Altogether he never enjoyed coming here. But the guys were infatuated with the old place, saying it defined their friendship in some twisted way. They also said the music wasn't as nauseating as he wrote it off to be. So needless to say, when the song started he "wrote it off" with disdain. He didn't listen to alternative as a whole, much preferring old jazz and rock and roll. Plus, he had no idea how to dance, much less to a song he didn't know.
But, that was all before she came along.
The first time Steve saw HER, she was over in the packed dance floor with a half-full brandy in hand. He watched her sway to the beat, golden brown hair swinging in wavy curls over her pale, naked shoulders. The backless red dress clung to her, emphasizing a chest and hips that moved with the tune, a pair of beat up black Chuck Taylors clashing with the regal outfit. Steve couldn't stop watching (rude or not); even as the stranger strutted over, grabbed his arm and dragged him to the edge of other pulsating bodies he found it hard to look away. He half-heartedly turned to look at Bucky for support(embarrassed that he had no idea what to do), but her delicate fingers touched his cheek and he looked down into deep green eyes.
"Don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me." she sings , quoting the song in the most beautiful voice Steve had ever heard.
"You're holdin' back?" he shakily sings back, grinning despite his extreme discomfort at being unsure of the words.
"Shut up and dance with me!" She yells over the music, taking his hands and moving her feet. He awkwardly obliges, noting that as they swing around the outskirts of the crowd how her skin glowed under the lights.
When the song ends she lets go of him, smiling with dazzling white buck teeth that match everything about her. He returns the sentiment shyly, rubbing the back of his blond head and pleading the heavens for words to say. He feels something in his chest then, like fingers gripping him and holding on for dear life. He likes it, and that scares him. He was miles away from his comfort zone.
"Thank you for the dance, my roommate, for lack of a better word, has been 'busy'. If you know what I mean." She tells him with a slight accent, motioning over his shoulder to a well dressed man sprawled on a dingy booth. There was a girl looking equally comfortable on top of him. Steve felt the blush come on before he could stop it.
"Which one? O-o-or, I mean nice, very classy. I wasn't thinking I would be dancing tonight anyway. It was, uh...fun." He says shakily in return, and she takes hold of his arm again, migrating them to the bar where abandoned glasses await their owners.
Bucky doesn't even acknowledge his friend when they come back, the other young man avidly engrossed in a conversation with Sam as they watched the television in front of them. Steve was a little nervous about that (he usually didn't talk to new people alone), but ordered two more drinks while offering his seat. He wasn't very good at conversing with strangers in general, least of all a pretty girl who seemed determined to have a conversation with him. Don't be awkward, this could be good for you he tells himself before leaning against the sticky wood shakily and smiling. He takes a deep breath and hopes for the best while she places herself in his seat.
"Well aren't you a gentleman. I picked the right partner after all," she laughs as she sits, and he smirks lightly with blushing cheeks.
"It's nothing, really I'm quite happy to stand, but uh, could I ask you something? I-I mean, well, it'd be easier to talk to you if I knew your name." He asks, stumbling just enough on his words to make her giggle. Steve, you are such a meatball.
"Well I am extremely rude. What would my mum say if she knew I took you from your friends and then took your seat without so much as an introduction? It's Margaret Carter, and let me save you the breathe: 'Why yes I am foreign and with this accent I can't imagine you wouldn't know from where.' I'm afraid if that were the case I'd call you a bloody American and leave." She tells him with a sassy grin, her British voice bogged down with a broken New York drawl. He chuckles and she raises her eyebrow at him. He stops so fast he almost chokes on his amusement.
"S-sorry, it's just people not from here, well, i-it's pretty obvious to someone like me and rather amusing to hear you speak. In a good way! S-so don't take it wrong. You have a point too, about not knowing w-where you're from. I..." he sighs and her scowl softens into a grin, " I-It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Carter." He says at last, offering her his ever so slightly sweaty hand and a wobbly smile. She raises one perfect eyebrow again, looking at his appendage with mock distaste. He feels his stomach drop.
"I'm quite sorry, but I'm afraid I'll have to know your name before you do something so personal as to shake my hand." Margaret transparently scolds, her teeth gleaming cheekily. He feels bipolar the way his insides fly back up into his throat.
"Steven. Uh, S-Steven Rogers."
"And where do you hail from Mr. Rogers?"
"Brooklyn, not far from here. Right now I'm staying in the dorms... for school I mean."
"A college man. What do you study?" she asks, taking a sip of her drink and looking at him over the glass rim. He musters his courage, what little he has, and tries to be sassy right back.
"I-I don't think so, I'm pretty sure something about you is in order." Steve says, attempting to smirk at her before taking a sip of the new cherry coke. It almost sloshes on him. Almost.
"Oh really? Well if you must know, I went to college for a math and a physics major at Oxford with some minors to add a little flair, then decided I'd like to travel. America was the only English speaking country I could tolerate living in for a year." Margaret responds, folding one leg over the other to accent the mucked up Chucks.
"Only country huh? Why is that?"
"Ah , Mr. Rogers I believe you owe me an area of study before this," she motions between them, "little thing can continue."
"Oh uh, s-sorry...I major in Literature and History, with Art and French minors at NYU." He says, shoving his hands in his pockets and hoping the truth didn't turn her off. He didn't think so highly of his career choices; Bucky and Sam laughed at the practicality of his plans. So he was surprised when she gasped appreciatively.
"A cultured young American then aren't you. Perhaps sometime you could draw me like one of your French girls", she states, bursting into laughter when he chokes on a sip of his drink, "My, my did I ruffle your feathers? Honestly you people can be such prudes." She continues to giggle while he cleans himself up, Steve nervously chuckling right along with her, but burning up on the inside. She doesn't think that does she? What if she does? I don't...I wasn't...What do you say to that?
"You are something else Margaret Carter." He blurts out, ignoring his thoughts, apparently, and just going on full steam ahead. He felt dizzy.
"Peggy"
"Excuse me?" he asks, and she scoffs with a blush.
"It's an old nickname from primary. My friends call me Peggy, Margaret just sounds too formal. Call me lazy, but I prefer when my parents and professors exclusively use the extended version. Seeing as you are neither, I would prefer Peggy."
"My friends call me Steve, if you'd, uh, rather that."
" Nonsense. Actually, I'm quite fond of your full name." She says, locking her green eyes with his. He nervously puts his hand behind his head and glances down. She smiles kindly in return.
"H-Have it your way then."He responds, removing his hand and putting it back in his pocket once more. For a few moments they sip in comfortable silence, at least on her part. He's just concentrating on breathing at the proper speed and volume. Wonder if it's working.
"So Steven, could I infringe on your night further and beg you to partake in another dance?" Becky asks, a little blush tinting her cheeks. He steals himself, wanting to impress her. He had had fun anyway before, so what harm could come from another dance?
"I w-would be glad to do without the begging, and 'infringe' is n-not the word I would use." He tells her gladly, taking her hand and helping her off the stool. She takes his arm like the last time, her small hands tight on his blue shirt. This time the nerves are worse, but he is willing to try and resist them in the hope he could blow his stupid comfort zone out of the water. For once, that sounded like a pretty damn good idea.
However, the show he gets was not to be expected.
The first time Steve hears Chandelier by Sia, he is watching her move with unbound grace. So much, that he could never dream of keeping up. So he simply follows and moves inside the circle she dances around him on two left feet, those slender limbs like feathers to the touch; soft satin. He lets himself enjoy the few minutes with the girl of his dreams, trying his best to keep up.
She beams up at him and sings the entire time. He smiles right back, not caring about knowing the words. What do they matter anyway? They don't, and he knows it. So he lets himself go like he does around his friends, moving to the beat with her, letting his guard down for the briefest of times and allowing his hips to sway and feet to glide, awkwardly at first, across the small spot they had claimed as their own. Peggy grins when he's not looking, gazing upon him appreciatively and oh so glad she had chosen this man than any other one here tonight. She only wished the song hadn't ended so soon.
"You are a marvelously beautiful dancer." He says in awe when the song ends and she spins into his arms, against his chest. She blushes a deep pink that rivals his own.
"Don't sell yourself short. I've never met someone as tall as you who could keep up with me." She tells him, poking him lightly right below his heart with a brazen smirk. It flutters.
"Yeah, w-well I'm still not quitting my day job."
"Yeah? Perhaps you should think about doing so. At least on the weekends." She winks. He gulps down nerves.
"I-is that right?"
"Yes. As a matter of fact, here, next Saturday. I'll be waiting at 8:00 sharp, and don't be late. Right now, however, my roommate is obnoxiously motioning that it is time to go home," she says with an unhappy sigh towards the table from earlier. Steve looks. Indeed he was, with the girl he had thought to be her roommate on his arm. He turns back around to look at Peggy questioningly.
"He's your roommate?" Steve asks incredulously, looking at her with wide eyes. She nods sharply.
"Quite. A friend of the family, as it were...or a friend of my sister's. Is there a problem?" She fires back, that one eyebrow risen again. He puts his hands in the air.
"N-no, no! Just...I-I thought it was o-odd you'd be rooming with a g-guy is all. I thought you'd l-live in school housing or s-s-something. I'm s-sorry." He pushes between his lips, mentally slapping himself for opening his trap in the first place. Stupid, Stupid!
"Well I don't. Though I must admit my mother and father had a similar reaction when they found out. I could tell you all about it, if you're still interested." She says, her eyes softened considerably at his apology. He mentally sighs in relief.
"I-is that a da-date then Miss Carter?" He asks with all the confidence he never thought existed. She blushes the deepest red he's ever seen.
"And here I thought you weren't the sassy type. Don't push your luck Mr. Rogers, because I don't give in that easily. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to drive them home and blare the loudest music I can find." she tells him, getting on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and walk away. A tap on his shoulder makes him turn around, a very drunk roommate of hers standing much to close for comfort. Steve feels his body tense, because this wasn't gonna be the first time someone got in his face, but he wasn't in the mood for bullies right now.
"H-hi, can I help you?" He asks the stranger, Peggy behind him and holding his arm. He keeps her there when she tries to get around him, eyes locked with the blurry gaze of the inebriated gentleman before him.
"Who r u spossed to be?" The man asks, slurring his words heinously and pushing on Steve's shoulder. However, Steve wasn't the scrawny runt he used to be and a shove like that only made the other man stumble back about two paces.
"Hey now, the name is Steven. Take it easy there alright, I think Peggy was gonna get the both you and your friend home." He tells the guy, checking on his newly acquired friend. Her eyes are a bit wide, looking up at him in concern.
"Who're yoo tu tell me whas happinin? Huh? Know who I am? I'm Howard Stark! Now I'ma take meh roommate thre. Saw 'er tell you she needs tuh go, but I dun see you lettin her. " He loudly states at Steven, the other man taking a step forward as Howard raises his fists.
"I'm just trying to keep you safe there pal, and I was just saying goodbye. Okay? Let's just take it easy and get you sent off. Maybe we can talk some other time Mr. Stark, you seem like a fine guy." The younger man tells the older, Steve putting up his hands again in an attempt to appear non-threatening. If there was one situation he knew how to confidently deal with, it was a volatile male wanting to use him as a punching bag.
Unfortunately, a fist flies at his face. Steve reaches up and grabs it speedily, making sure to steady the man before gently pushing him away. Steve draws himself to full height, rather impressive in itself after he is slouched for long, and takes Howard un-roughly by the shoulders. The other man looks him in the eyes, surprised by the sudden increase of four inches in height between their heads.
"I'm going to give you to Becky and she's gonna take you and your girl home. Okay?" Steve asks, and the man nods slowly, "Alright. Then I hope to meet you again. Preferably more sober." He lets Howard go, who in turn spins on his heel to grab the other girl's wrist then scoot out the door. Peggy smiles at him in thanks and apology, slipping a piece of paper that she scribbles on into his hand before taking off after her charges without another word.
He hastily waves goodbye, even shouts across the bar ten decibels above normal so she can hear him. To his enormous relief, it makes them both smile.
Steve trudges off to his spot then, people around him staring in open awe after witnessing the unfolding pseudo fight that just occurred. He blushes hard, casting his face down in an attempt to divert attention. It doesn't work, the eyes only trailing him to his seat, and after long minutes in the spotlight, they finally look away. Bucky and Sam don't though, still looking at him with questioning eyes and tight lipped mouths. Steve wishes he could sink right through the floor.
"So, you get a pretty girl to notice you at last and get into a fight with her boyfriend on the same night? Man, why can't you just do something one step at a time? Sometimes I think you like getting punched." Bucky says, grinning from ear to ear and shoving his shoulder playfully.
"I-I didn't...It's not like I wanted that to happen! C'mon guys." Steve begs back, his friends laughing loudly enough for those curious eyes to be drawn once more.
"Yeah, well Buck if he's gonna finally do somethin', he might as well get it done all at once. Never happenin' again." Sam states, punching Steve lightly in the shoulder as they both drunkenly cackle more. Steve just crosses his arms, turning away and staring down at the piece of paper. It only has two digits, 04, and words written in fancy script:
You'll just have to earn the rest ~Peggy
He smiles so lightly it could be a shadow, absorbing those words and relishing in the fact that despite making a bit of an ass of himself (and getting into a one sided fight with her roommate), Peggy Carter still actually wants to talk to him. Maybe this place wasn't so bad. He shoves of from the bar, alerting his friends as they stop laughing.
"Hey Steve! Where you going man?" Sam asks, standing shakily from his bar stool. Bucky stays put, knowing full well that floor would be hitting him in the face.
"Thought I'd go dance some more. Don't need a partner all the time. I-I have to practice you know?" He tells them, getting lost in the throng's edges until Bucky sobers enough to retrieve him. They listen to the radio, new music to be precise, all the way home in Steve's car. Turns out it can sound pretty damn good.
The eightieth time Steve hears Chandelier by Sia is during Peggy's dancing performance at Julliard. It turned out she was indeed in America to travel, abroad to fulfill a dance performance minor for Oxford. He's fine with that, because she's wearing the backless red dress and it reminds him of when they met. Howard sits two seats away, the girl he learned to be Peggy's sister still uncomfortably on top of him.
Steve sighs with flushed cheeks and concentrates on the show.
The 8, 765th time Steve hears Shut Up and Dance by WALK THE MOON, she's wearing white and beneath that, the pair of beat up Chuck Taylors. He's ecstatic, glad he had been who she saw that night, and glad she had given him another chance every Saturday after.
Bucky told the whole story of that night in his speech ten minutes later, and Howard cheered from five chairs down when the room burst into laughter. Steve's cheeks flushed red, and Peggy laughed so loud no one heard the groan that accompanied the embarrassment.
Man Steven, you are such a meatball.