Thank you to everybody for your kind words! And let me apologise for my absence. I feel really bad about not updating because I promised I would soon after the last and then life happened. Everything has been so hectic. School work is being flung at me from all directions. Also I've been filling up my spare time with The Good Wife.
So, in short, I am sorry. But this is THE chapter. And writing it made me all happy :) I just finished it because I'm off from school sick so I thought I'd finish this chapter. But enough rambling from me! Enjoy!
Late Saturday morning Peggy awoke to the sound of loud knocks reverberating off her front door. She slowly swung her legs over the mattress and got up, pulling her dressing gown tightly around her as she went. A glance through the peep hole showed her Stark standing on the doorstep, a brown paper bag in his arms.
"Stark – could you give me a second?" she called through the door.
"Oh hey Peggy. What for?"
"I'm not dressed."
"So you're naked?" he joked. Or maybe he wasn't joking – Peggy didn't like to think about it. She knew he liked her.
"No, just in my dressing gown. Give me a moment to get ready," she said.
She could hear him sigh on the other side of the door. "Can't you just let me in? I don't care if you're not in formal attire Peggy. We're friends but I've never even seen you without you being immaculately presented."
She didn't bother to reply, just went off to her room. She hurriedly dressed, styled her hair so that it was pulled back off her face in a low bun and applied her signature red lipstick. As she was about to exit her room to let Stark in, she paused at her dressing table where she had tucked Steve's photo into the frame of the mirror. Tonight, Steve.
The knocking began again and quickly turned to hammering. She hurried to slide the chain and unlock the door, pulling it open to an exasperated Stark. He stared at her. "Did it seriously only take you ten minutes to make yourself look like that? Or is that natural?"
She ignored him and stepped aside to allow him to walk in, closing the door and locking it behind him. It was second nature, these safety precautions. She didn't feel safe unless the chain was slid home.
"I brought brunch," he told her, placing the paper bag on her coffee table and settling himself down on the sofa. He glanced up at her expectantly and she sat in the separate armchair. "Muffins and bagels, you know," he added, opening the bag and pulling out the food. He was glancing around the apartment, a bemused expression on his face. "Bit dusty."
"I haven't had a chance to clean since we got back," she said. "Did you come here just to criticize my living conditions?"
She stood and went to her small kitchen, finding plates in a cabinet and bringing them back over to Stark. He was watching her still.
"Are you okay?" he murmured, all joking absent from his tone.
She focused on placing a muffin on her plate, unwilling to answer. "I'm alright."
"No you're not."
"Please, Howard," she said, locking eyes with him. "Can't we just eat? Tell me about the cube."
Stark could not resist rambling on about his work and this cube was no exception. Peggy nodded along, but they both knew she was not truly listening. Her mind was constantly thinking of that evening. She was thinking about what to wear, actually. She remembered the night she'd gone to see Steve briefly at the Stork Club and had worn her red dress. She was just like any woman, really. She had worn a gorgeous dress that made every eye in the room turn to her, surprised Steve, kept the conversation brief and left abruptly. The end result she hoped for was that Steve would be left wanting more. And every other man in the room for good measure.
At one point Stark stood. "Howard, where are you going?" she asked, shocked out of her reverie.
"Your mind is obviously elsewhere. I'll leave you to your thoughts. Don't worry about it," he added as she stood, an apologetic expression on her face.
After he left Peggy busied herself with cleaning up the remains of the brunch. She felt absolutely horrible. There was the hope, the aching hope that she would see him again. And then there was the horrific dread that she was wrong, that he really was gone. How would she feel, standing outside the Stork Club, alone? What would she do?
The thought occupied her mind for the rest of the day.
She had gotten ready much too early. She had sat in her empty apartment and waited until it was a suitable time to leave, because she didn't want to wait outside the Club any longer than she absolutely had to. It was now ten to eight and she was just approaching the front of the Club, her heels clacking on the pavement, drawing the eye of every man on the street. Usually it brought her some form of satisfaction, but tonight she was too anxious to even notice.
She was wearing red. It seemed fitting to wear it. Red was her. Red was her lips, red was her nails. Red was what had visually assaulted Steve that time in the Stork Club. It had a plunging neckline and slim fit. She had spent extra care on her hair, styling it so it waved just right and pinning it off her face, and she'd spent an age doing her makeup. Her eyes looked particularly mesmerizing that night, large and framed by long, dark eyelashes.
She hoped it had not all been in vain.
She stopped outside. She glanced at her watch. It was nearing eight. She felt as if her heart would leap out of her chest.
Others glanced at her as they entered the Club. She constantly checked in both directions for the tall, muscled figure of Steve Rogers. He did not appear. Minutes dragged on. She put off looking at her watch for as long as possible. She couldn't handle it any longer and looked – it was eight thirty.
Tears were welling in her eyes now but she furiously blinked them away. Had they said to meet out front? Maybe he had been waiting inside this whole time. She was grasping at the smallest, tiniest possibility. With a quick check down the street, she turned and entered the Stork Club.
The chatter, laughing and music hit her. It seemed ridiculous that all these people could be so chipper when Captain America was…
Was what?
Alive?
She checked every square inch of the place. Twice. Even the men's bathroom, which caused some extremely shocked stares and several wolf whistles.
He wasn't there. He wasn't there.
He's dead.
She hurriedly headed back to the front doors. She needed to go home. She pushed open the doors and stopped abruptly, frozen, staring.
It was him. It was him wasn't it? Yes – not even her imagination was that vivid. For a moment she struggled, not knowing what to do, completely and utterly shocked. She realised that deep down she honestly hadn't expected him to show up. But he had. He had. He had.
He was wearing the military uniform, looking extremely dashing. He was smiling at her the most dazzling smile she had ever witnessed. His eyes held the compassion and love for her she had witnessed before.
And the first words to come out of her mouth? "You're late."
Steve broke into a laugh that sounded like a sob. "Peggy," he breathed, walking forwards.
She filled the distance, the tears overflowing. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder before he gently put a finger under her chin, bringing her face towards his. He kissed her with such unadulterated tenderness that she could not think of loving anybody more. As they pulled apart from the kiss, Steve brought a hand up to brush a strand of her hair back that had been pulled out of its immaculate styling during the hug. It turned into a caress halfway. He was looking into her eyes, his hand on her cheek.
"Peggy," he said. "You should know something. Something I should have said before… all this."
"I love you," she sputtered, placing her hand over his on her cheek. She was desperate to get it out before something else interrupted, before she left it too late like last time.
He smiled and laughed, his eyes sparkling. "You always have to be one up on me."
"I-" she began to say, but he placed a finger on her ruby red lips.
He straightened up. "Now you listen here Agent Carter. I love you," he said, his voice softening as he said the words, those words that she had been longing to hear.
And she pulled him forward, their lips meeting again. Their love felt so pure.
Finally, after remaining embraced for a few moments, Steve straightened up once again. Peggy clung to his arm, unwilling to let go of him after all that had happened. "Steve," she said, a little breathlessly. "I don't understand how-?"
"I'll explain everything," he said. He held her hand and wrapped her arm around the crook of his elbow. "Now," he said, "didn't you promise me to teach me how to dance?"
Peggy pushed aside her need for explanation. It could wait. Everything could wait. Tonight she was going to dance with the man she loved. "Alright. Let's dance."
"You'll have to teach me," he said. "I wouldn't want to step on your feet."
She laughed and used her spare hand to wipe away the tears from beneath her eyes. Then she looked up at Steve. "But you really were late."
HAZAAH! Steve's back, Peggy's displaying emotion, all is well in the world! I thought this would be a good place to leave off for the meantime because I have to get my ideas together about how he survived and all. Plus it just seemed a sweet place to end :) Anyway, once again, feedback greatly appreciated!
