Title: A Small Respite

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Spoilers: Captain America The First Avenger

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3. Anyone else please ask first :)

Summary: Phillips may not care what Steve and Peggy do on their own time away from prying eyes, but when his best secret agent has her face plastered on every movie screen in the allied countries, he has to step in.

Feedback PLEASE at:triplepirouettephile Or just hit the little button there.

AN: Just a short little thing that I've been working on based on two ideas: one- you don't just carry a picture of a girl you have a secret crush on into battle, and two- Peggy and Steve had a much more complicated wartime relationship than the movie explored based on the amount of time that passed in the movie and how Peggy refers to him in Agent Carter. I pulled it out and dusted it off for SteggyWeek2k16, so here's for Saturday's challenge: Wartime.

"ROGERS!"

Colonel Phillips stopped his pacing as he saw Steve pass his tent. His bellow tripped the man up, turning Steve around as he stumbled into their superior's makeshift office. Peggy could barely contain her laugh. In the field he was grace and fluidity, but sometimes if he was caught off guard or wasn't focusing quite right, that skinny little guy poked his head out and Steve was like a baby faun learning how to walk again.

Steve fell in line next to Peggy in front of Phillip's field desk. The rest of the tent was empty, and Peggy ceased her giggling and straightened up with a harsh look from Philips. "Sir?" Steve asked as he stood tall and proud at ease.

Philips resumed his pacing and shook his head. "Figured I might as well yell at both of you," he mumbled. He stopped, and looked up at them. "What… Just what were you thinking?"

Peggy sighed, but didn't say anything, just stood quietly, ready to take the scolding she knew was coming. Steve, on the other hand, was never one to let himself get reprimanded if he didn't know the reason. "Regarding what, sir?"

Phillips just stared at Rogers, a long, dark stare that would have had other men in the company cowering. When Steve neither broke nor backed down, Phillips pursed his lips and spoke calmly. "Got a compass on you, Rogers?"

"Yes, sir," Steve reached into his pocket and pulled it out, handing his golden compass over.

Phillips opened it, nodded, and turned it to face them. "This!" he yelled, pointing at the picture of Peggy inside. "I've got my top secret agent's picture inside Captain America's compass on News Reels around the world!" He shook his head and tossed the compass back, not watching as Steve juggled the catch, or as he and Peggy shared a long, complicated gaze.

Phillips turned back around, his voice slightly less filled with venom as he faced his desk and shuffled around some papers. "I get it. It's war. Damn it, I wouldn't care if everyone on this base had a secret girlfriend. If I don't see it, it doesn't happen. But you!" He turned back and pointed at Carter. "You're a spy. You know how well spies get around when people know what they look like?"

Peggy stood tall, her words measured. "Not very well, sir."

Phillips laughed. "Not very well, yeah. They get killed, Carter." He shook his head. "My top secret agent has her face plastered across every movie house in the allied countries…" He grit his teeth and turned his attention on Steve. "And you."

"Sir?" Steve hadn't shift an inch, his hands only fidgeting a little at his sides.

"I've got Washington breathing down my neck because hearts are breaking coast to coast." At the flash of confusion over Steve's face, Phillips tossed his hands out. "You're a celebrity, Rogers! Love-sick ladies from Secaucus to Seattle follow the heroics of Captain America, and now he has a girlfriend! I've fielded three calls from the senate alone today, afraid war bond sales are going to drop because they can't have their little home front fantasies anymore!"

Steve's posture changed, the war hero gone and the boy from Brooklyn fully returned as he shook his head. "With all due respect, you can't hold us accountable for the fact that I have… fans."

Phillips laughed. "I couldn't give a shit, Rogers." Phillips looked between the two of them. "Frankly, you two are good for each other." Phillips almost smiled, but stopped himself and forced a grimace. "But Washington cares, and you belong to them, not me, Rogers."

Peggy cut in, frustrated. "Sir, I don't-"

"No, you don't get to think, Carter." Phillips shook his head and sat behind his desk. "It's a ridiculous situation. I couldn't care what you do on your own time, but keep it quiet." He looked down at his papers. "And take that picture out of your compass."

"No."

Steve's quiet refusal caused Phillips to lift his head. "Excuse me, son?"

Steve looked at Peggy and slowly and deliberately took her hand. "'Captain America' may belong to Washington, and that's fine. If I can make a few girls left on the home front happy, then good, I can stand for all the GIs they miss. But, Washington doesn't own Steve Rogers."

Phillips shook his head. "If you're going to talk in the third person like that, I'm going to need you to see the base therapist."

"Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter got married." Steve blurted, holding Peggy's hand tightly. "Two months ago by a Chaplin, right after Bucky died."

Philips stopped, standing slowly and looking back and forth at them. Peggy looked up at Steve, her face tight but calm as she spoke, love shining through in her eyes. "Like you said, Sir, it's war. It's all well and good to plan a few dates for when it's over, but…"

"…but you never know what's going to happen tomorrow." Steve finished the sentence with only a quick, but meaningful, glance at the woman who was his wife. The words flowed easily, as if it was something they said to one another often.

Peggy leaned closer to Steve, her other hand resting on his bicep as she addressed the Captain. "We weren't telling anyone… it was for us, Sir. After the war we figured we'd square it away with everyone and do a real wedding. We'd appreciate it if you didn't share this with Washington."

Phillips looked at them both, still slightly astonished. "My best secret agent had a clandestine wedding to the most famous soldier on the face of the planet." He shook his head. "Right."

It would have been funny if it weren't so serious. They knew the ramifications, the problems that could arise. But it was a chance they'd decided to take. "Sir…" Steve let it sit, their need for an answer important.

"I'll keep your secret," Phillips huffed. "It's war, you deserve whatever happiness you can carve out of it. BUT!" His voice got steeled, eyes dark. "You keep that compass hidden and do your damndest to make sure no one else finds out!"

"Yes, Sir," they both rattled off as they straightened up, dropping hands.

"Well?" Phillips sat back down, looking at the two soldiers in front of him. "Why are you still standing there? Dismissed."

Phillips watched his two best soldiers leave his tent, each routing a different path away with barely a glance to the other. They would be able to hide it, at least for a little while, now that they knew people were paying attention. He could protect them somewhat, but it would mean a lot of half-truths that he wouldn't quite enjoy. With a heavy sigh he set about signing the pile of requisition forms in front of him, barely paying attention to them as he scribbled his signature. "I better be invited to the wedding."