A/N: The timeframe for this AU/Tag is during Captain America: The First Avenger. There may be spoilers.

Namaste,

Sunny

"If I know what love is, it is because of you."
— Herman Hesse

Captain America

The Peggy and Steve Show

Because of You

"Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man," Dr. Erskine demanded.

Steve held up his glass to make a toast. "To the little guys."

As he was about to drink the schnapps, Dr. Erskine gasped out, "No! No! Wait! What am I doing? No. You have a procedure tomorrow. No fluids." He snatched the shot glass from Steve, and poured the contents into his own.

"Alright. We'll drink it after."

Erskine waved a hand. "No. I don't have procedure tomorrow. Drink it after? Drink it now."

When Erskine had gone, Steve removed his shoes, socks, and pants, turned out the light, and lay in his bunk. He was too nervous to sleep for thinking about everything Dr. Erskine had told him about the possible effects of the serum. If it didn't work, he'd be no worse off than he was now, unless it killed him. If it worked… well, he'd deal with that when it became an issue.

Alone in the medical barracks, Steve closed his eyes, hoping he'd at least get a little sleep before morning. He thought he heard a noise, dismissing it as an overtaxed imagination. Then the privacy curtains parted. Peggy smiled at him over her shoulder as she pulled them closed again, and came to sit on the side of his cot with their hips touching. Without speaking, she touched him gently on the cheek, and leaned down to kiss him, pulling away before he could respond. To say he was surprised would be an understatement.

"I want us to be together tonight, Steve."

She stood up, her fingers working loose the belt tied around the waist of her Army-issued raincoat. The coat fell to the floor in a khaki green heap, and underneath, she wore only a skimpy satin nightie that stopped at mid-thigh. Her body moved side to side as she kicked off her shoes, drawing his attention to her feet. Her toenails had been painted bright red, which he found oddly erotic. It wasn't just the color, but the fact that she had taken time during a war to give herself a bit of pampering. Something to remind herself that not only was she a soldier and an agent, but also a woman. The only incongruity to the lovely vision of a nearly naked Peggy was the presence of her dog tags.

Steve propped himself up on his elbows, letting his eyes skim from her feet up to her face. He gulped, and blurted out, "You sure you're in the right place, Agent Carter?"

Peggy leveled a sexy, smoldering gaze on him, and smiled. "Absolutely."

"Really?" He wasn't convinced.

"Really." She moved closer, standing with all her weight on one foot, holding out her right hand. "Take my hand, Steve."

He did as she requested and soon they were snuggled together under the covers. She rubbed the side of one foot up the front of his thigh as her hand skimmed over his chest to the waistband of his boxers. They kissed, and he separated their mouths when her hand continued its journey. "Why are you here, Agent Carter? I mean, I know why you're here. I guess the question is why now and not after the procedure?"

Rising up on one elbow, she smiled, and tilted her head to the side, her free hand toying with his dog tags. "Under the circumstances, you should call me Peggy. And we're doing this now so that, no matter what happens tomorrow, you'll always know that no matter how tall or how strong you are, or what you look like, it's you I care about. I want to lie next to you, and listen to the beat of your heart. I want to close my eyes, and fall asleep in your arms. I want to feel you next to me, and forget that the war, and the world, exists. At least for tonight."

Honored at her words, and feeling greatly daring, Steve pulled Peggy's dog tags free of the satin so he could read them. "Bucky says you can't die if you're wearing the wrong dog tags."

Her smile was indulgent, and sweet. "I've heard that. It's part superstition, part joke, I think."

Steve agreed. They kissed again, as he urged her onto her back with him above her. Peggy's hands, warm and gentle, lightly trailed over his ribs, pushing the material of his shirt up to his armpits. They parted long enough for her to remove the shirt, and kissed again.

~~O~~

From the tentative way Steve handled her, Peggy could tell that this was his first time being intimate with a woman. His hand touched her thigh, stopping just under the edge of her nightie. She placed her hand over his, and smiled. He took the hint, and continued.

After a while, she no longer had to guide him, and soon they were awash in sensation, and passion.

~~O~~

When she was certain that Steve had gone to sleep, Peggy carefully lifted the covers, and put one foot then the other on the cold floor. She retrieved her nightie, slipped it on over her head, pulling it down over her bottom as she stood. Her feet went into her shoes while she closed the front of her coat and tied the belt.

For a long moment, she watched Steve sleeping. He rolled onto his back, his dog tags clinking together. What he said earlier about not dying while wearing the wrong dog tags gave her an idea. She removed the shorter chain from Steve's dog tags, and exchanged it for hers. Now they would take something of each other with them wherever they went.

Peggy gave Steve one last lingering look, closed the privacy curtains, and returned to her quarters.

~~O~~

Steve was alone when Colonel Phillips rousted him out of bed. Though he didn't remember doing it, sometime during the night, he'd put on his t-shirt and boxers, thankful that he didn't have to explain why they were on the floor, or Peggy's presence in his bed.

He gathered clean underclothes and a fresh, crisp uniform from the closet, and went into the bathroom to change. Combing his hair, he noticed that his dog tags looked odd. The one on the smaller chain was different than the other. Holding it up to the light, he read the imprint stamped into the metal:

Carter, Margaret E.

London, England

Blood type: O-

Religion: Non-denominational

It didn't take a genius to understand why she'd exchanged tags with him. As honored as he'd been when she came to him last night, the small gesture warmed him like sunshine on a cloudy day.

At the secret base in Brooklyn, just before he went into the pod, Steve touched Peggy's hand, discreetly, so she wouldn't get in trouble. "Thank you for last night."

She pursed her lips to keep a smirk from forming. "My pleasure. Literally."

Erskine helped him into the pod, gave him an injection of penicillin, and closed the door.

And his life was never the same.

Later

Schmidt was getting away, and Steve had to stop him. He was the only one. There wasn't anyone else on earth who could match Schmidt in a physical fight. Colonel Phillips drove the car with Peggy in the passenger seat and Steve in the back, chasing the plane. He climbed onto the plane's landing gear, mentally preparing himself to kill Schmidt, but only if he had to.

Peggy grabbed his jacket, and pulled him to her for a kiss. Just before she let go, she whispered, "I know what love is because of you, Steve."

Startled, he stared at Colonel Phillips. "I'm not gonna kiss ya!"

The plane took off, and somehow, deep inside, Steve knew that would be the last time he and Peggy saw each other.

End