He was walking down the hallway, just like he had done so often before now. The floor was made of grayish linoleum, just like the floor in his house was. And the same, by now familiar, smell was in the air. A smell of disinfectants, but also of warmth and of food. It was an old smell, but he didn't mind it any longer. Whether this was because he had gotten used to it by now or because of some other reason, he didn't know and he didn't care.

He knocked on the door, not as hesitantly as he had done it the first few times when he had been here. The first few times had hardly been audible, but that was long gone. The very first time, he had almost left before he had had a chance to knock. He had been too afraid, but in the end, the longing for a known face, for someone with the same memories… for her, had won.

A strong "Come in" sounded through the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief. A strong voice was always a good sign.

Steve opened the door and entered the small room. The curtains were drawn, like they were most of the times he was here. The light outside was already weak and the room would have been rather dark, if it hadn't been for the countless small lamps all over the room. They bathed the room in a warm, soft light and he looked at her, sitting upright in her bed, a warm smile on her face and for the fraction of a second, there was the woman, almost a girl, he had met seventy years ago.

But he shook his head and the image of the young woman was gone. And there she was, finally. Peggy. Her face was wrinkly and her hair was grey, but her eyes… her eyes were still the same.

He felt a smile cross his face. "Hey, Peggy," he said as he approached her.

"Oh, Steve," she replied, shaking her head, but the smile became even broader. "You shouldn't be here today."

"But how could I leave my best girl alone?" he replied. He sat down on the chair by the bed, placing the bag next to his feet.

"Because it's Christmas, Steve. You shouldn't be here today, looking at an old me."

"Now that you mention it…" Steve grinned and bent down to retrieve the bag, taking out a box of chocolates and a potted plant. "I brought you something. It's kind of lame, but… it's something." He handed her the chocolates and placed the plant on the bedside table, next to all the framed pictures of Peggy's family – her deceased husband, her children, her grandchildren and their kids.

He looked back at Peggy, who turned the box of chocolates in her hands. "It is not… lame, Steve," she said.

He shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "You bring plants for Christmas. And I remembered that you used to like chocolate. Of course, that was seventy years ago, so I might be wrong about that. But I remembered how you always had a secret reserve of chocolate wherever you had to go."

"You never forget anything, don't you?"

"Not really, no," Steve admitted. Just like he wouldn't forget the only Christmas they had shared.

"But surely you won't spend the day trying to save the world, like you did the last time?" Peggy asked suddenly.

Steve sighed. The last time, that was seventy years ago. "No," he said. "No world-saving today for me."

"Because you remember that it took a Colonel Philips to stop you?" Peggy laughed.

Of course he remembered.

"Rogers, no! How many times do you want to hear me say this? A million more?"

"Sir, people are dying out there!"

"And they will continue to do so, whether you go out there or not. And now sit down, Rogers, god damn it."

He didn't sit down, but he stopped pacing up and down in front of the map. "So you're going to stick with the decline?"

"I absolutely am. And you won't sneak out on a mission. It's Christmas, Rogers, deal with it."

"But that's the point, Colonel! It might be Christmas, but we're in the middle of a war!"

Colonel Philips folded his hands on the desk and looked at Steve. Occasionally, his gaze flicked towards the chair and he said nothing until Steve finally gave in and sat down on the chair.

"Rogers, I know that this was before you were even born, but have you ever heard of the Christmas truce from 1914?"

Steve shook his head. "No," he admitted.

"I thought so. As I said, it was before your time." His gaze drifted off for a short second, towards the giant map that was hung up on one wall of his makeshift office. Steve wanted to ask him to continue, to explain, but he kept quiet. "It was the first winter of the great war," Philips said finally. "The fighting between the Germans, the French and the British was stuck, a gigantic no man's land between the frontiers, bodies lying all over. But suddenly, on Christmas Eve, the fire stopped. Soldiers from both sides came to get their dead and to bury them. But the ceasefire continued and it went as far as soldiers from both sides, Germans and Allies, sitting together, sharing stories and celebrate Christmas. It continued over the holidays," Philips finished. "And then the fighting began again."

Steve shook his head. "But this doesn't make any sense," he said.

"Of course it doesn't," Philips agreed. "This is the war. Hardly any of it makes sense. Our mission makes sense, of course, but nothing on the way to the goal does. Not every German is an evil Nazi, even though I wish it was this simple."

"I know that," Steve said. "But what about Hydra?"

"Hydra is… something else. But you didn't really get my message, did you? Too busy saving the world instead of listening, are you?

"I'm not," Steve said hotly.

"You deserve a break," Philips said. "A break from fighting, from killing, from the war. All of you. And I am willing to give you a break from fighting. So take it and say thank you, will you? And now go ahead, they have some sort of party prepared, you might not want to miss that."

"Sir…"

"Rogers, you might not be skinny anymore, but you'll never grow over my head, alright? You're just as stubborn as Erskine said you were."

Steve sighed, then he nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said finally as he got up and made to leave. "And Sir?"

"Rogers?"

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas indeed, Rogers. Merry Christmas indeed."

On the way to his quarters, he had passed the big hall where the party was going to start soon. They had even put up a tree and had hung everything that seemed remotely glittering on it.

He had quickly gotten dressed into his full dress uniform and had combed his hair before he had set off again.

Bucky had gone to the party while Steve had still been in Philips' offices and so Steve made his way alone, passing most of the other quarters without giving their doors a second glance yet when he turned around a corner, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Agent Carter," he stammered, standing bolt upright as she whirled around and hid her hands behind her back.

"Captain Rogers," she replied haughtily. "I see you are ready for the party?"

He took a deep breath before he answered. Of course he had seen the chocolate in her hands and of course he would rather throw himself out of a plane once more, without a parachute this time, before he would admit this to her. "I am… I am… yes, I am," he finished weakly.

"So Colonel Philips didn't give in to your demands?"

"Ahm… no, no he didn't. He doesn't care that we found the base and that everything would be ready, he said it's Christmas."

"Well, he is right about that. And now, Captain Rogers, you will excuse me." She nodded curtly and walked off, making sure that he couldn't see the chocolates in her hands.

"I did not hide the chocolates!" Peggy interrupted him. She was smiling. "Not from you."

"Of course you did," Steve retorted.

"I didn't want to share," she said. "Chocolate was rare. It was to be treasured."

"Alright," he replied. "Fine with me."

"Go on," Peggy urged him. "You remember it better than I do."

He entered the hall just a minute later and already it was busy with people. He walked towards the Christmas tree first and stopped before it.

Most of the glittering things hanging from it were things of everyday military life, wrapped up in aluminum foil. And while he was still pondering the thought of whether someone had taken the time to cut the foil so thinly to make tinsel, he was approached by someone.

"Howard," Steve said and nodded in greeting while Howard Stark lifted his glass, filled with a dark red liquid that gave away the strong smell of hot alcohol.

"Captain Rogers," Stark greeted back. "Not busy saving the world?"

"Not allowed to," Steve grinned. "What do you have here?"

Stark laughed. "You mean this?" he asked, lifting up his glass. "It's called Feuerzangenbowle," he explained. "Distinctly German, as I was told, which rather surprised me, getting it here. Surprisingly good, I might add."

"German, huh?" Steve replied.

"Not all's that German is bad," Stark said wisely. "Like Christmas trees. Distinctively German innovation and who would want to miss it? Well, not such a crooked and ugly example, like this one, of course. What is this, a compass?" He stretched out his hand and indeed took a compass, wrapped in aluminum foil, from the tree, which lost a rather large amount of needles upon the touch. "Pitiful," Howard commented grinning. "Anyway, I should go and say Hello to the pretty ladies over there. I see they are sitting on dry land. Captain, you might want to try some of this." Again, he lifted his glass. "I'll see you later." And then he was gone.

"Well, Howard has always been one for a drink and one for the ladies," Peggy commented. "At least until he met Maria, but that was years away…" She shook her head, smiling.

"I always thought he was after you," Steve admitted. "But then, I also thought that Fondue meant something other than cheese and bread."

Peggy chuckled. "I think I was the only one he never tried it with." She looked back at Steve and suddenly, she seemed serious. "He never stopped looking for you, you know that? Even after the war, he was still looking for you. He sent a ship every year until he died." She sighed. "It changed the way I saw him, really."

Steve nodded. There was nothing to say about this, and so they sat in silence for a few minutes, each one pondering their own thoughts.

"Wait," Peggy said slowly. "Wasn't this the Christmas when…"

"Yes," Steve replied. "It was."

"Steve!"

He felt an arm around his shoulder and half a second later, Bucky was standing next to him.

"I've been looking for you," Steve told his best friend, but the latter just waved him off.

"Me too, pal, me too," he said. "I've been avoiding Stark all the time, he's busy getting people drunk."

"Is he?"

"And busy destroying the Christmas Tree Dugan chopped last night."

"That was Dugan's work? He really went looking for the oldest and ugliest tree he could find, huh?"

"I guess the chopping part is also a lie. I'd take a bet he walked into the woods, found a dead tree and brought it back." Bucky laughed. "And now come on, there's eggnog over there."

Bucky dragged him off to a makeshift counter and pushed a mug of warm eggnog in his hands.

"No presents this year, though," Steve said, looking over the crowd of people, chatting and drinking and some of them dancing. A battered gramophone stood in a corner, giving away a soft tune.

"My mum would say we're too old for this anyway," Bucky put in.

"At least there's a tree," Steve said grinning.

Bucky snorted. "And who are you looking for?" he asked a few seconds later. "And don't tell me you aren't, Steve, I know you too well for this charade."

Steve, however, didn't listen. He had just spotted Peggy in the crowd, wearing a beautiful red dress. She was talking to another woman.

"I see, I've gone invisible again, haven't I? Seriously, Steve, I could be a ghost right now, huh?"

"What?" Steve turned around to face Bucky, who simply raised an eyebrow.

"And why don't you just talk to her? Ask her for a dance?"

Steve shook his head. "I can't do that," he said. "That's… no."

Bucky's eyebrow went even farther north. "You're a mess, Steve," he commented. "And stupid. A stupid mess."

"Have you seen my tree?" Dum Dum Dugan reached past Bucky to get a mug of eggnog. "Stunning, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," Steve said earnestly. "Did you cut the aluminum foil?"

"Nah, I got some of the girls to do it. Gabe and Jim joined them… guess they were trying to get to… you know." Dugan chuckled and nodded.

"It already lost quite some amount of needles," Bucky remarked. "Want to get the girls to glue them back on, too?"

Dugan laughed his loud, throaty laugh. "Barnes, this snarky commentary is going to make me punch you one of those days," he said.

"You won't," Bucky gave back. "You'd just be afraid of what would come after."

Dugan shook his head, his shoulders rippling with laughter. "Alright," he said. "Anyway, Captain, the last convoy brought something for you."

"Colonel Philips didn't say anything about this," Steve replied.

"Guess it's not important then." Dugan shrugged. "I'll go looking for the boys. You are going to join as at the bar, right?" He tipped his head, nodded and went off again.

"What's this going to be?" Bucky wondered after Dugan had disappeared.

"Surely one of those stupid presents," Steve spat. Ever since December had started, packages for him had arrived with every convoy entering their camp. Packages containing bottles of wine or luxury food or, once last week, a picture of the President. But he had no use for that, had left all of those things with Colonel Philips and had let him decide what to do with it.

Bucky shook his head. "I'll never understand why you don't just take them," he said.

"Because I'm not better than any of you, and none of you gets one of those."

"Always the good guy, aren't you?"

"One of us will have to teach you some manners," Steve replied, patting Bucky on the back.

Bucky snorted. "Alright," he said. "And I'm going to look for the others. Bar, Dugan said, right?"

"I'm coming with you," Steve said immediately, but Bucky shook his head.

"No, you won't. You'll go over there," Bucky said and nodded towards the crowd.

Steve followed his gesture and, sure enough, he found Peggy. She caught his gaze and a smile played around her lips. He looked back at Bucky, who was already gone. And Peggy had seen him looking at her. Steve breathed in deeply and braced his shoulders. A short second he closed his eyes, ignoring all the images of humiliation that appeared before him, and then he walked over to her.

"Agent Carter," he greeted her, somewhat breathlessly. It was embarrassing.

Yet her face seemed to brighten when she looked at him. "Captain Rogers," she replied. "This is Abigail Russett," she explained, indicating the woman she was talking to, and Steve greeted her as well. "But, Abby, I think you are needed. Over there, at this poor excuse of a Christmas tree."

"Indeed…" Abigail Russett said as she looked towards the tree. She seemed disappointed. "I'll see you later, Peggy? Captain Rogers, it was my pleasure." She nodded before she departed, somewhat slowly.

"You came at just the right time," Peggy said as soon as she was out of reach. "I thought she would just never go away. She is nice enough, but she doesn't seem to stop talking…" Peggy smiled. "What gives me the pleasure of your company, Captain Rogers?"

The question caught him off guard. "I… ahm… ah…" His stammer was embarrassing. "Have you met Howard already?" he asked, saying the first thing that came to his mind. "He's trying to get everyone to drink something German."

"It's a good drink," Peggy said. "But never more than one glass. I am quite sure he adds some rum in there." She laughed, but stopped soon after. "Isn't it uncanny? Christmas in the middle of a war?"

"It is," Steve admitted, glad she had raised a topic. "It feels wrong, somehow, doesn't it?"

"And how. On the other hand, it's a nice break…"

"I guess it is," Steve said. "And what else is there to do in the middle of nowhere…"

They had talked only for two more minutes. Then, the sirens had gone off, announcing an attack. He had only had time to tell her to take care of herself when Bucky and the others had already been there and they had gone off.

He had been right, Steve had thought bitterly. Hydra wouldn't care whether it was Christmas.

"Had I known this was my last Christmas with all of you, I'd have spent it otherwise," Steve finished. "I don't know how exactly, but differently."

"You've always been so dramatic," Peggy replied. She smiled sympathetically. "But now that you told me all of this… there was chocolate in my locker the next day," she said slowly. "This was you, right?"

Steve shrugged. "I had seen the chocolates you were hiding," he said. "And there was some in the package. I forgot who sent it, but it looked official… government or army, I guess. At least there was someone who would appreciate it, I thought."

"I always suspected you," she said. "Guess I should have just asked."

He smiled and laid a hand on hers. "At least you know now," he said.

"What are you doing tonight?" Peggy asked. "I hope you won't spend the night alone?"

Steve sighed. "No," he said then. "I… won't." He had been afraid of Christmas ever since he had woken up and realized how many years had passed. Being alone in the world was bad enough, but being alone for Christmas would have been even worse. "My neighbor… she invited me and some colleagues over to her flat."

Peggy's face brightened up. "I'm glad for you," she said. "Do you like her?"

He shook his head. "It's not like this," he said, even though he had no idea what it actually was like.

"At least you're not alone."

Steve nodded. "But what about you? Is your family coming?"

Peggy closed her eyes, a warm smile on her face. "All of them," she said.

"That's good."

And he meant it. It was easier to really mean it when you weren't alone anymore, he thought.