June, 1957

The cab pulled to a stop and Peggy stepped out, bag in hand. The door of the two-story home was unlocked, and she set her bag by the door and hung her coat neatly in the closet. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she followed the sound of voices gathered around the dining room table.

"Mommy!" Chairs scraped across the floor as her children abandoned their dinners to throw their arms around her.

"Darlings", she said. "I've missed you so. I hope you've saved some dinner for me."

The housekeeper was one step ahead of her, setting an extra place at the table. Peggy waved the children back into their chairs and slid into her own, saying "Thank you, Mrs. Henderson.". She picked up her fork and smiled. "So what happened while I was gone?

Later that night, after baths had been taken and stories had been read, Daniel said "You look exhausted. Maybe you should go to bed, too."

Peggy poured herself a drink, then poured one for him. "No", she said, "Not yet. I find I adjust to the time change more quickly if I stay up." They settled onto the couch, and his arm wrapped around her as she snuggled in beside him.

"How was London?", he asked.

"A disaster", she answered. "Howard was supposed to meet with the Italians, but he didn't show up. His assistant doesn't know where he is."

"That doesn't sound good."

She sighed. "It's Howard", she answered. "This isn't the first time he's gone missing. He'll turn up eventually."

They sat in a drowsy sort of silence, taking occasional sips of their drinks and chatting about everything and nothing. Down the hall, the phone rang once, then twice, and they heard Mrs. Henderson's low voice as she answered. A moment later, they heard footsteps approaching followed by "Director Carter?"

Peggy pushed herself to her feet. "No rest for the weary", she sighed. She picked up her drink and walked down the hall towards the kitchen. Daniel heard her answer the phone, her voice crisp and impatient. A minute later, her glass shattered on the tile floor.

By the time he got to the kitchen, she was all business, taking notes and asking questions, heedless of the shards of glass surrounding her. He got to work picking up the glass and mopping up the spilled drink, trying to figure out what had happened from her side of the conversation. By the time he'd cleaned up the mess, her call was clearly wrapping up, so he leaned against the counter and waited patiently for her to finish. She hung up the phone and sagged against the wall.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. "Bad news?"

She laughed, her voice thick with tears. "That was Howard."

"He apologize for ditching you?"

"He was a little busy", she said. "In the North Atlantic."

He pulled back and focused his gaze on her face. "They found it? Oh, Peg."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. They found it, but … Steve's alive. I don't know how it's possible … Howard said something about the ice slowing his heart and the serum working to keep him alive … He's unconscious, but he's definitely alive. They're on their way back. Howard thinks they'll be here mid-day tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

She nodded. "Yes."

"Then you'll need a good night's sleep", he said, taking her hand. "Jet lag be damned, let's go to bed."

She'd been away from the office for a week, so Peggy spent the morning reading memos and field reports, meeting with her deputies, and generally trying to keep herself so busy that she didn't have time to fret. She was only partially successful, finding herself thinking about Steve every time she had a free moment.

She'd never been so glad to see Mr. Jarvis, and she managed to exchange pleasantries before lapsing into a jittery silence. Her old friend kept up an undemanding stream of conversation while they made their way to one of Howard's numerous properties.

Howard was waiting, and he led her down the hall to an ornate bedroom. She hesitated only a moment before pushing open the door and walking in. Steve was still unconscious, looking impossibly young and peaceful and alive. She pulled over a chair and sat by his side, drinking in the face she'd thought she'd never see again.

Howard stood in the doorway, nattering on about the winds that had uncovered the plane, the trip back from the Arctic, and any number of things Peggy couldn't bring herself to care about. When she could take no more, she muttered, "Shut up, Howard".

The man on the bed fought to open his eyes. "Peggy?"

"Steve." She leaned forward, clasping his hand in hers. "You're awake."

"Mmm." He opened his eyes, blinking in the mid-day sun. "Where am I, Peg?"

"New York", she answered.

"How did I get here?", he asked, using his free hand to push himself into a sitting position before collapsing back onto the pillows. He looked at her more closely, his eyes finally adjusting to the light.

She laughed, trying not to cry.. "Oh, Steve."

"Peggy?" He asked again.

She clasped his hand a little tighter. "What's the last thing you remember?"

His brow furrowed as he fought to remember. "The plane … talking to you on the radio and trying to force the plane down."

She nodded, confirming his memory. "Yes. You forced the plane down before it could make it to land."

"But you found me", he said.

"Yes", she nodded. "But not right away."

"Guess I'm lucky to be alive."

"Very lucky", she agreed. "Steve, we were sure you were dead. No one could have survived for so long. No one but you."

He pulled his hand from hers and looked at her more closely, taking in the unfamiliar hairstyle, the civilian clothes, and the gold band on her left hand. "Peggy?" His voice was uncertain.

"It's been twelve years", she said quietly. "It's 1957."

The next afternoon, Peggy pulled into the driveway and steeled herself for another emotional visit. She knocked sharply on the door, and Jarvis opened it, greeting her with a fond "Director Carter."

"Really, Mr. Jarvis", she replied, "You are godfather to my daughter. Surely you can call me Peggy."

"I wouldn't want to overstep, Director Carter."

"After our adventures together", Peggy answered, "I don't think that is possible. I owe you my life."

"And I owe you mine", Jarvis answered, "but that is no excuse for poor manners."

Peggy laughed. "I do miss seeing you more often", she said. "Daniel and I are taking the children to the beach next month. Perhaps you and Ana could drive up for a day."

"That sounds lovely", Jarvis replied. "I'm sure Ana and I would enjoy that very much."

"I'll have my secretary call you with the details", Peggy said. "The children will be thrilled to see you. They do adore you both."

"We adore them as well, of course."

Peggy smiled. "I know you do. Now, is Captain Rogers in his room?"

"I believe he's in the garden."

"Thank you, Mr. Jarvis. Give Ana my best."

…25…26…

Steve lowered himself down into the push up while his muscles burned with the exertion. It felt good to move again, even if he felt like he was as weak as he had been when he joined the army. The sun shone through the the trees, a squirrel scampered across the lawn, and birds chirped overhead. It was the kind of day he'd dreamed of during the war – a beautiful day in a peaceful world.

He wondered how many similarly perfect days he'd missed over the twelve years since he'd last felt the sun on his face – and how many of those perfect days Peggy had spent with her husband. He could just imagine it – Peggy, in the arms of a man who smiled as he bent down to kiss her; Peggy, walking out of church in a crisp white dress as onlookers threw rice; Peggy, a baby in her arms and her husband's arm around her.

If someone had asked him, back in the war, he would have said that he would want Peggy to find someone else if he didn't make it. He wanted her to be happy, and he certainly didn't want her to mourn for the rest of her life. He would even have meant it. He just would never have expected the situation he'd found himself in.

…27…

He forced his thoughts back to the task at hand, focusing on dipping a little lower, holding the position a little longer.

…28…

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

At Peggy's comment, his arms lost all strength and he collapsed onto the lawn. He rolled over and scrambled to his feet, straightening his shirt and fumbling to find a place to put his hands.

"Peggy!"

She walked confidently down the path and settled on a bench. "Steve", she answered. "It appears you have regained much of your strength."

"I'm still pretty weak", Steve answered.

"The doctor expects the rest of your strength to return over time."

Steve looked puzzled. "How do you know what the doctor said?"

Peggy patted the bench next to her. "What have you been told about the time since the plane went down?"

Steve sat, careful to keep a respectable distance between them. "We won the war and dropped a new kind of bomb on Japan. You got married. The SSR folded. The American government held a memorial for me. There was another war in Korea."

"It sounds like you've covered a lot in the last 24 hours."

"Mr. Jarvis got me some books." He shrugged. "I read them. I wanted to catch up."

"That's a good start."

"There's a lot that isn't in the books."

"Like what?"

"Why did the SSR fold? Did you quit when you got married? Why did you move to America? Do you have any kids? What's your husband like? Are you happy?"

"That's a lot of questions. Let me see what I can do. I am happy, most of the time, which is about all anyone can ask for. My husband is a good man. We met at the SSR after the war. He reminded me a little of you, I think. We have two children, an 7-year-old girl and a 5-year-old boy. They're wonderful most of the time, and terrible some of the time, which is also all anyone could ask for. I moved to America after the war. I don't really know why, except that it made me feel closer to you at a time when I missed you quite desperately. By the time I got married, there was no SSR to quit. It disbanded the year before.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Do you have a job now? Do you look after your children while your husband works? What does he do?"

"Well", Peggy said. "The SSR was disbanded in 1948. There was reason to believe that Hydra was alive and well and exercising an unfortunate level of influence within the SSR, so Howard and I decided it was time for a new organization, one that was free from the issues that plagued the SSR. We chose the best and the brightest from the SSR and formed an organization we called Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division – or S.H.I.E.L.D. for short. It has become quite respected internationally. Howard, Chester Phillips, and I run the place."

"Good for you, Peggy", Steve smiled. "Your husband doesn't mind?"

"I wouldn't have married him if he did", Peggy answered. "Daniel works with us, too – but he trains new recruits so that he can be home when I have to be away."

"Are you away a lot?"

"More than I would like, but it's part of the job." Peggy sighed, remembering lonely hotel rooms and endless airports, before continuing. "So to answer your question, I know what the doctor said because he reports to me. We have found that it's useful to have a doctor available for our agents."

"I'm not one of your agents."

Peggy smiled. "Not yet."

July, 1957

The car slowed as Mr. Jarvis turned onto the narrow dirt road. They bumped their way past cottage after cottage until they arrived at a cheerful sign advertising "The Nook". Mr. Jarvis parked, and he and Ana climbed out as Steve followed more slowly.

Peggy had come to visit him daily before her vacation, ready to share her perspective on the news events he was reading about or to share an amusing story about her children. She rarely mentioned her husband, and Steve couldn't help but speculate about why. Was she unhappy in her marriage? Was her husband stern or controlling? Worse, was it possible that he had a temper? He knew Peggy could hold her own in a fair fight, but he also knew that a marriage could involve fights that were less than fair.

When the Jarvises had passed along Peggy's invitation to join them at the beach, he'd said yes, thinking that he'd at least get to see how Peggy and her husband interacted for himself. Now, however, he wasn't sure it was a good idea. In fact, he was sure it wasn't a good idea. Everyone would have been better off if he'd stayed behind. It was too late, though, so he followed Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis around the cottage.

They were greeted with shrieks of joy as Peggy's children hurled themselves at Mrs. Jarvis, who seemed equally glad to see them. The children detached themselves from Mrs. Jarvis and shook Mr. Jarvis's hand in turns, laughing and giving him a quick hug when he looked at them sternly. By the time they'd each grabbed one of Mrs. Jarvis's hands to pull her down to the beach, a handsome man with hair streaked with grey had limped over to greet them.

"Captain Rogers", he said, holding out his hand. "Daniel Sousa. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Steve shook his hand. "Thanks for having me", he said politely, trying to reconcile the image he'd built up in his mind with the man standing in front of him.

"We're happy to have you", Daniel responded. "I don't know if Peg told you, but you saved my life once. Bastogne. We were in a pretty sad state before you got there." He shrugged. "I owe you my life. You're welcome here."

"Thanks", Steve repeated, a little more sincerely. Daniel led the way to chairs near the beach, and Steve accepted a chair and a beer while Jarvis adjusted and readjusted his beach umbrella so that the shade was perfectly centred on Ana's vacant chair.

Daniel left his crutch on the dock and joined Ana and the children in the water, and Jarvis finally settled into his chair, a glass of cold ice water in his hand.

Before long, Peggy came out of the cottage, wearing a shockingly small swimsuit, a floppy hat, and sunglasses. She greeted them and settled into a beach chair, laughing at the children and Daniel, who yelled joking challenges from the water. Steve leaned back, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the feel of the sun on his face.

The first indication that he had company was the dripping of cold water on his leg. He opened his eyes, squinting at the bright sun. It was Peggy's children, the little boy a couple of steps behind the girl. "Excuse me, Mr. Captain Rogers?"

"Yes?" Steve looked around. Ana was napping in her chair beside Jarvis, their hands touching. Peggy looked to be asleep, and Daniel had disappeared. He pushed himself up so that the sun wasn't hitting him in the eyes. "What it it?"

"Will you come swimming with us?" Peggy's daughter – what was her name again? – had certainly inherited her mother's directness.

"We're not allowed to go in the water without an adult", the boy added.

Steve looked around again, hoping against hope that someone else was awake, but they all dozed on. He looked back at the children. "I'm not wearing my swimming costume", he said.

Peggy's girl picked up the bag he'd set beside his chair. "Come on", she said. "You can change inside." She took off towards the cabin at a run, the boy following a little more slowly.

He pushed himself to his feet and followed.

He spent an hour or two with the children in the water. They splashed and played, daring each other – and him – to demonstrate handstands, took turns dunking or splashing each other, and generally had a good time. The children seemed to like him, and to his surprise he liked them too. They were undemanding and affectionate, and he was glad he'd decided to join the Jarvises when they'd invited him.

By the time Ana and Mr. Jarvis woke, he had had enough of the water. He made his way back up the hill to the cabin to change into his street clothes. The cabin was quiet, and he changed quickly, wrapping his wet swimsuit in a towel and putting it back in his bag for the trip home before heading back outside. He had just reached the door when he say Peggy and Daniel on the deck, their arms around each other. It was tender, and sweet, and only a little less intimate than walking in on them in their bedroom. He stood stunned for a moment, then quietly backed up and started for the door again, deliberately making noise as he went. By the time he pushed the door open, they were standing a respectable distance apart.

When he got outside, Ana was herding the children up the hill, Mr. Jarvis following behind her. They all gathered around the table for a dinner of hamburger sandwiches and salad. Steve couldn't help but notice the easy, intimate way Daniel and Peggy worked together. It was clear that they were a team and he, despite being in the middle of a crowd of people, was alone.

August, 1957

Howard picked up a magnifying glass and took another look at the scratches on the knife. There was something there, something that could help him figure out what had gone wrong, if only ….

The door to the lab slammed open and the magnifying glass shattered on the tile floor.

"Peggy!"

She was angry – no, she was furious. As she marched towards him, he tried to remember what he'd done. Had he missed another meeting, something really important? The file she was carrying hit his chest with more force than necessary.

"What is this?" The words were short, as if she were hanging on to her temper with only the greatest restraint.

He fumbled with the folder, but it only took a glance at the name to know why she was so upset.

"He didn't tell you."

"What were you thinking, Howard? We can't assign Captain America to the London office. We'll be the laughingstock of the intelligence committee."

"Peg." The fury retreated just far enough that he could see the pain. "He asked to be posted to London."

"Why?"

Howard stepped forward and took her hand. "You know why. It's been twelve years for you, but it's only been a month for him. He needs some space."

"I don't like it."

"I know. But you'll have to live with it. We all will. We owe him that."

March, 1961

Peggy slung her briefcase over her shoulder and made her way to the elevators. Conferences were part of her job, but she was always glad when they were over. Her flight was first thing in the morning, and she was looking forward to being home almost as much as she was looking forward to a bubble bath, a stiff drink, and consigning her heels to the hotel waste basket. She was almost at the elevators when someone said "excuse me, ma'am". She turned, expecting to see a low-level flunky.

She'd never been so glad to be wrong.

"Steve!"

He grinned. "Hi, Peggy."

She punched him on the arm. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Howard suggested it. He said he wanted someone to keep an eye on security, but I think he was trying to get us to be friends again."

"As far as I'm concerned, we've always been friends."

"Then", Steve said, "as friends who rarely see each other, I think we should go to dinner."

Peggy mentally said goodbye to her much-anticipated bubble bath. "Give me half an hour and I'll take you up on that."

October, 1962

The bride was radiant despite the rain, and the groom looked at her like all of his dreams were coming true. In the pews, Daniel passed a handkerchief to Peggy. "You doing ok?"

She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Yes. I'm glad he's happy, and Carol's really good for him. I can't help but wish she wasn't an agent, though. It's a dangerous job."

"Yeah", her husband agreed. "Who would have expected Steve Rogers to fall for a woman agent? It's so unlike him." Beside him, Dugan snickered.

April, 1979

The church was filled with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, delegations from sister organizations, neighbours, and friends. Peggy and her children followed the casket down the aisle and filed into the reserved pew.

The service was lovely, she supposed, but it didn't seem to have much to do with the man who insisted on being in the room when their children were born, the one who made her first cup of tea every morning and dealt with skinned knees, sick children, and school conferences while she was busy at work. For more than thirty years, he'd been there to hold her when she cried, listen to her worries, and make her laugh when she feared she'd forgotten how.

How was she going to live without him?

The funeral procession moved to the graveyard, and she stood stoically as the man she'd promised to love until death parted them was lowered into the ground.

She spent the next hour accepting condolences from colleagues and friends, aware that the intelligence community would pounce on any sign of weakness. Her children hovered nearby until she ordered them to take care of tipping the caterers and packing up the cards and flowers that had collected on a table near the door. She finished her conversation and made her way to the door.

She had almost made it to the safety of the parking lot when she heard her name. Steve was there, a young man beside him, both of them in somber black suits.

"I'm so sorry, Peggy", Steve said, taking her hand in both of his. He nudged the young man, who mumbled "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you", Peggy answered.

"Daniel was a good man."

"He was", she answered, fighting back the tears that had been threatening all day. "I was lucky to have him in my life." She forced a smile. "And this must be James." She addressed the young man directly. "I haven't seen you since you were a toddler, but your father and I are old friends. It's nice to see you again." She offered her hand and he shook it politely.

"Carol's out of town with work. She sends her condolences.."

"Thank her for me", Peggy answered. "And thanks for coming, Steve, James. It means a lot to me."

September, 1981

The black car pulled up to the curb. Peggy took a bracing breath before climbing out and walking up the short path to the front door. It was a pleasant-looking house, with trimmed grass, orderly hedges, and a riot of flowers in the garden by the door. She knocked decisively.

The door was opened by a slender teenage girl with her blond hair teased to amazing heights. Peggy forced a smile. "Is your father home?"

The girl turned from the door, yelling "Dad!"

"How many times have I told you not to yell? I'm only 20 feet away …" Steve turned the corner and saw Peggy. "Sarah, go to your room."

"Fine." The girl stormed up the stairs. A moment later a door slammed.

Steve walked over to the couch and sat down. "How bad is it?"

Peggy joined him, taking his hand in hers. "Carol's team missed the check in yesterday morning. We haven't been able to make contact in the last 35 hours. We have another team heading to the area to try to figure out what happened."

"So she might be fine. Maybe they're just having communication problems." The bleak look that had settled onto his face when he saw her brightened with hope.

"Maybe", Peggy answered, "But Steve, it doesn't look good. We've had some reports of explosions and gunfire, and one of our local contacts was found dead. I hope that in a day or two she'll walk through that door alive and well, but I have to tell you that that doesn't seem very likely."

"She'll make it", Steve said. "She's good. If anyone can do it …"

"She's the best", Peggy answered. "And I know that she'll do anything in her power to come home. But it's possible that this isn't going to end the way we want it to." She stood. "I have to get back to the office. But I promise that I will let you know as soon as I have any news."

She left him hunched over on the couch, a family picture in his hands.

December, 1982

The house had changed since the last time she'd been there. The hedges were scragglier, the grass a touch too long, the flower beds orderly and precise. Peggy knocked, and Steve opened the door. He looked almost unkempt, his clothes wrinkled and his face unshaven.

"Hello, Steve", she said. It took him a second to remember his manners, and he invited her in to the same room she'd seen on her last visit. Unlike the outside of the house, it was almost too neat, as if it were a showroom for a house no one lived in. Peggy seated herself on the couch and waited for Steve to settle beside her. "How are you doing?"

He shrugged. "One day at a time. That's what they say, right?"

She nodded. "Sometimes that's all we can do. How are the kids?"

"How do you think they are? Their mother is dead, and their father is barely holding it together. James is off at university, Sarah's in her last year of school and so busy I rarely see her, and Adam is sometimes the only reason I get out of bed."

"It's hard", Peggy agreed. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"It wasn't your fault", Steve admitted. "I'm sorry for how I spoke to you at the funeral."

"I know", Peggy said. "I've been there myself, so deep in grief that I'd blame anyone or anything not to have to face my own failings."

"I could have been a better husband", Steve said.

"She loved you", Peggy answered. "I didn't know her well, but I know that. And I don't think she would have traded her life with you for anyone else on earth."

"Thanks."

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Peggy opened her briefcase and pulled out a file. "This crossed my desk yesterday."

Steve picked up the file, read the name on the tab. "James? Why do you have a file on James?"

"Our recruiters have suggested recruiting him for S.H.I.E.L.D. It wouldn't be until he graduates, but I wanted to run it by you. You know more than anyone how risky the job can be, and you've made more than your share of sacrifices. Say the word and we'll pass. And Steve? He doesn't know we're considering him, and he won't know if we pass."

Steve opened the file and flipped through it. "He might say no."

"He might."

"And even if he says yes, he might not make it through training."

"He might not."

"But if he does, I could lose my son."

"Yes."

He closed the file and looked up at her. "You'll kill this now if I say no."

Peggy nodded. "I will."

He laughed. "When he was five, he was sent home from school for fighting."

"There's an expression about apples and trees that might apply here", Peggy observed.

"I asked him why he was fighting, and he said that the other boy was being mean to his friend. He said he needed to do what was right." He dropped the file back in the briefcase. "I won't stand in his way."

He stood and left the room, leaving Peggy alone.

June, 1983

"Director Carter, Captain Rogers is here to see you."

"Send him in." Peggy closed the file she'd been reviewing and stood as Steve poked his head around the door.

"I don't want to interrupt", he said, "but I was in town and thought I'd stop by. Feel free to tell me to get lost if you're busy."

"Not at all." Peggy gestured to her guest chair and settled into her own chair. "What brings you to town?"

"I've made some decisions", Steve replied, "Starting with this one – I'm retiring from S.H.I.E.L.D., effective August 1."

Peggy tried not to let the shock show on her face. "We'll miss you", she said.

"I know it's not a good time", Steve commented, "but there's never a good time, and this is something I need to do."

"You've done more than your share", Peggy answered. "We will manage to limp along without you."

"You know", Steve observed, "40 years ago today I started basic training. I'd tried so hard, and so often, to get accepted, and I was finally wearing that uniform, ready to learn what I needed to know. And then you walked out and punched Gilmore Hodge. I think I fell in love with you on the spot."

"Was that forty years ago?", Peggy answered.

Steve smiled. "It was."

"You were so determined", she reminisced. "You wouldn't quit, even when I didn't know whether you'd make it through the day. And then you threw yourself on a grenade, and knocked the flagpole over. We'd never had a recruit like you."

"I just wanted to be a good soldier."

"You were a terrible soldier", Peggy replied. "Good soldiers listen to orders instead of running off to do what they think is right. But even when you were a terrible soldier, you were a good man. I think that's why I fell in love with you."

"If things had been different", Steve answered, "we might be celebrating our anniversary with our kids and grandkids around us."

"I learned a long time ago that there's no use wishing that the world had turned out differently than it did."

They sat in a companionable silence for moment, then Peggy pulled herself back to the present. "You said you'd made more than one decision. One is retiring. What are the other ones?"

"Well", Steve said, "it occurred to me that I still owe you a dance. Are you free tonight?"

I'd love to hear your thoughts.