Steve was puzzled over Peggy's reluctance to remove her coat once they got to Howard's party.
"It's cold," she said when Steve raised his eyebrows.
The chill had followed them inside.
Steve said, "You know there'll be about one thousand people in there. You won't need your coat in a few minutes."
After a time, she surrendered her coat to the attendant. She was just adjusting her blouse and hair when she opened her bag and said, "Oh, I don't believe it."
"What?" Steve was suddenly tense and on high alert.
"I forgot to take Winnie's bakes out of my purse."
The strain bled from Steve's muscles. He allowed himself a sound that was half laugh and half sigh.
"Don't they say a whole buncha trees get planted because squirrels forget where they bury their acorns and nuts?"
Peggy held her purse up. "I'd hit you with this if it wasn't filled with biscuits." She lowered it slowly and held it carefully out toward the attendant. In her most dangerous agent tone, she said, "I'll know if something's missing."
Giving the attendant a sympathetic look, Steve steered Peggy toward the entryway of the ballroom. The building was owned by Howard Stark though the name didn't reflect it; locals called it the Crown on Broadway even though the building wasn't actually on Broadway. Most believed the 'crown' part was because of Howard's ego. Steve heard he'd named the building after something from Canada. The building had thirty floors. There was the ballroom and auditorium on the ground floor — which was actually three stories high — but the place was mostly rentals, hotel rooms and tenements. The top four floors were (one of) Howard's private residence(s).
Steve thought the whole place was garish.
"Can't believe I did that," Peggy was grumbling.
A smile bent Steve's face as they entered the ballroom. The place was well lit for a change. Little circular tables with white tablecloths dotted half the room. A band was playing on the other side, dance floor already crowded with swinging bodies.
Steve retrieved both of them drinks without garnering too much attention. The bartender was only making cocktails that had obscene names based on holiday phrases. Picking two of the most mild-sounding drinks, Steve returned to Peggy.
"Ready to make the rounds?" she said. Her face looked surprised when she sipped the cocktail. "This is good."
"Let's do this," he said. "Howard first; get him out of the way."
Peggy sipped the drink again while she slid her other hand into the crook of Steve's elbow.
"Cousin Peggy," Howard said in lieu of hello when they approached him. Peggy let Howard hug her with teasing stiffness. "And Patient Zero!"
"Mr Stark," Steve said.
"Here, turn and smile."
Steve did as he said, and a flash blinded him. He could just make out a photographer waving a hand and wandering away.
"You've press here now?" Peggy said.
"Of course not," Howard said. "What fun is a party with people watching you all night? Nah, that's security."
Steve and Peggy's eyebrows had identical pitches.
"If they only took pictures of everyone else, it'd be suspicious." The expression on Howard's face wasn't one of innocence. "Hey, on the upside, we'll have professional pictures! Send 'em out to family!"
"Why do you need covert security, Howard?" Peggy said.
When she used that tone, everyone knew they were caught. Steve's eyes bounced between the two of them.
"Well," Howard said, "I may be seeing an old friend tonight. A friend that I used to work with but abruptly stopped working with."
"Bloody hell, have you put all these people at risk for spontaneous combustion?" Peggy said.
"No, of course not. Peggy, doll—"
"Call me doll one more time and see what happens."
Howard pinched the bridge of his nose and said to Steve, "You deal with this every day?"
Steve sipped his drink and said, "I don't call her doll. Or invite my enemies to parties filled with hundreds of innocent people."
"Don't you two see? He hates me! He wouldn't hurt all you — he only hates me!"
"You've invited us all here to be your human shield," she said flatly.
Boy, Howard and Peggy sure were something when they got together.
"Well, when you say anything like that it sounds like a bad idea."
"I'll see you later then," she said. "Steve, shall we?"
"OK," he said and accepted her hand onto his arm. Peggy steered both of them back into the crowd. Thanks to his enhanced hearing, Steve heard her mumbling, "First the bakes and now this."
A few steps past a table supporting a scale replica of the Crown on Broadway made from gingerbread, they were stopped.
"English!"
Peggy swivelled. "Angie, is that you?"
"Sure is!"
And, sure enough, she appeared between bodies of the crowd, face red and smiling. Steve stepped out of the way of their reunion. Angie turned to him after she released Peggy and slapped his chest with the back of her hand.
"Long time, no see, Captain," she said. "You two are lookin' good, as always."
"Thank you," Peggy said. "How was your Christmas — before you came here."
"Real swell. You wouldn't believe how big my family has gotten in the last year." Angie rolled her eyes. "Suddenly all of New York is my cousin."
The three of them spoke of the type of year they'd had, where they'd travelled (for work), who they'd met, and how many times they'd punched someone. Angie was just telling them about a script she'd recently been given for a Howling Commandos film when a fourth person jumped into the conversation.
"Someone talkin' about me?" Dum Dum Dugan said.
"Sheesh, Tim, it's been ages!" Angie said, completely fine with being interrupted. She hugged him with enthusiasm. "Ya hear, they want me to be Peggy in a picture about you all!"
"That so?" Dum Dum said. He quickly hugged Peggy with one arm. "They gonna have Rogers play himself?"
Steve made an exasperated sound. "I'm never living those down."
Dum Dum agreed, "Never."
For a regular human man, Dum Dum's hug strength was incredible. The embrace was brief, but it was warm and sincere. They'd been places together, seen things together. They'd grieved together. When Dum Dum and Steve parted, they shook hands.
"Cap," Dum Dum said.
"Corporal," Steve said.
"So what's all this talk?" he said. "No one told me that Hollywood's makin' a movie about me."
"It's probably because you stink," Angie said.
From there, more and more people joined their group to talk. Some people Steve knew from the war and the S.S.R., but most he'd never met before. Peggy had quite the job making introductions. By the end, Steve felt like he'd met Peggy's entire department. He was able to slip away toward the bar with Dum Dum, Jim Morita, and Gabe Jones after ninety minutes of chatting with strangers.
"Listen, ace," Jim said to the bartender, "I ain't got time for your drinks with stupid names. Just gimme five glasses of the good stuff, huh?"
It was effective: They got five tumblers of whisky. They each held a glass, and the fifth sat on the bar in the middle of their huddle.
Dum Dum held his glass aloft. "To Bucky."
"Bucky," the rest of them echoed. Their glasses clinked together with the unclaimed fifth. Frenchie and Monty would be in New York for New Year's, and all of them would do this again.
Later, after Peggy had hidden nearly half the gingerbread replica in her dress, after Dum Dum won a kiss from Angie, after Jim got Colonel Phillips to laugh, after Peggy's friend from work, Daniel Sousa, tripped Howard with his crutch (on purpose) — after all of this, Steve and Peggy had a few dances.
During a slow one, Steve leaned close and said, "I can feel something at your waist."
Peggy tried to make a coy face, but amusement broke it. "That'll be the fudge," she whispered.
Kissing her hair and laughing softly, Steve said, "I love you."
"Of course you do."
The smile that bent Steve's face might as well have been the sun shining. Just a little to the side, Gabe was dancing with Angie. He caught Steve's eye and shook his head, smiling. Steve was about to make a face back when something caught his eye and his whole body went rigid. Peggy tripped over his toes and caught herself.
With quiet urgency, she said, "What is it?"
But Steve had blinked and whatever he had thought he'd seen was gone. His muscles thawed.
"Nothing. I just — I thought I saw — . . ." Steve started shifting his feet again, a halfhearted attempt at dancing. "It's nothing."
tbc