N/A: Hello, my dearest readers! Firstly, I'd like to apologize for my absence on updating my fanfics. Those who know me personally know I was graduating from college and I immediately got granted afterwards with a scholarship to my Master's degree program in acting. So the past year has been literally of study and preparations to move (this Brazilian butt is moving to LA in twenty, bitches). BUT I've managed to finally seat and read my fics again and figure where I want to go with them. So here you go, an update! I have four more chapters ready for this fic (and I'll be updating the others in the next days, for those who read more than one fic), so you do not worry about delay on updating. The next chapters will be posted daily, as I get them back from the beta. So, if you're still around, shoot me with a signal! Good reading ;)

Until The Love Runs Out

Nobody said it was easy

It's such a shame for us to part

Nobody said it was easy

No one ever said it would be this hard

Oh, take me back to the start

I was just guessing at numbers and figures

Pulling the puzzles apart

Questions of science, science and progress

Do not speak as loud as my heart

But tell me you love me, come back and haunt me

Oh, and I rush to the start

Running in circles, chasing our tails

Coming back as we are

- The Scientist, Coldplay

Camp Lehigh, 1943.

The tent was practically empty. Soldiers gathered by the moon to talk and root for a relaxing moment in that drastic and chaotic war scenario they had been inserted to. Steven Rogers, the soldier who had practically volunteered to do anything possible in a battlefield was the only one left out, by choice, of the laughter happening outside. He had excused after the first idiotic jokes coming from some soldiers and said he needed sleep.

Truth was Steve was used to that, it wasn't that he didn't fit in because Steve was actually the most adaptable soldier in that whole field, but he just knew better than waste precious sleeping time—that'd be much needed for the following day. Problem relied on the fact the scrawny soldier couldn't exactly shut his eyes. Dr. Erskine stopped by and they spoke about the procedure, how everything was still a big puzzle to them all, and as tranquilizing as the conversation could have gone, Steve still couldn't rest.

The soft knock on the door got him seating up straight in shock—or maybe it was the fact Agent Carter sneaked her head through the door as to see if he was awake. "May I come in, Steve?" Her voice was sweet and yet clearly surprised to see him awake.

Steve nodded in a heartbeat. Peggy stepped in the room and he was already standing up. She found amusing how every time she was around, in a non official visit, he'd be restless, nervous. Maybe it was because they had shared a more intimate moment a while ago and yet never spoke about it specifically. In the past weeks, ever since he managed a smart move of getting the flag off that pole, they had been bounding over. That day, in the car, Peggy had congratulated him on thinking beyond the obvious.

"Soldiers rarely do that." She had said with a smile, writing something down on the paper in her hands. Steve had peeked behind her, noticing how she was noting something about him. Strong wise, sees it outside the box. He wondered then how many things she could have wrote already about his deployment. "It's quite remarkable." Steve leaned back, feeling bad for creeping on her notes. That word she said though, remarkable, always popped back in his mind when he though about her. It was silly, but the slight though of a woman like her—tough, breathtakingly beautiful, humble, inspiring, courageous, strategic, fearless, all the good adjectives he wished to achieve—thinking he was remarkable, it made him unquiet and truly blissful.

"Is everything OK, Agent Carter?" He was standing nearby his bed, looking uptight like a piece of wood.

She looked around briefly and smiled. "You know you can call me Peggy." She reminded him. It was still new to Steve, but he liked it, the sound of her name on his lips was like a melody.

"I'm sorry. Peggy." Steve watched her step forward to meet him and motioned the bed next to his. Steve quickly nodded and after she sat down, he did the same in front of her—exactly like he and Dr. Erskine did a few moments before.

"I thought you'd be asleep."

"I can't keep my eyes shut." She nodded at him.

"I suppose it's understandable." Peggy agreed and smiled. She seemed a tiny bit uncomfortable, looking around and taking deep breaths. He was also wondering why she went there. They talked outside camp, but usually on nights under the stars, never in his tent.

"Is everything OK?" He repeated his question, but paused then for a moment. "Are you alright?" Peggy nodded again.

"I was wondering about you?" It was obvious she was worried about the procedure, but Steve was bad with signs.

"Oh. I'm good, I'm okay. Maybe a little tense."

"Do you know you're allowed to say no to this, right?" Steve promptly shook his head and for a second she thought he wasn't aware of it, but it was a different no.

"I want this, Peggy. I want to be able to do something for my country." He seemed a little preoccupied, as she noticed in his glance. Steve thought too often about all the people fighting, especially Bucky and others he knew, how they were giving everything and he wasn't allowed to do any less than them.

"You already are, Steve." She sounded a tide bit more exasperated than expected and stopped herself to straighten her own posture.

"I can't even finish your daily training in a proper time or without having an almost asthma attack." Steve complained in annoyance, a little confused by her shake of head.

"You're skinny, so what? Doesn't make your efforts in this unit any less worthy."

"They'd crush me like bugs if I actually went in the field." He insisted, a stubborn frown growing across his forehead. Peggy shook her head again a little annoyed by his obstinacy.

"Steve. Look at me. How many women do you see on this field that aren't nurses? I'm not taking their work's merit, but how many of them are training American soldiers?" Peggy's tone was strict, serious, which made him slightly tenser than before.

"Just you."

"I'm not the only one out there, but here I am, we aren't many though. Yet, we manage through. Above all, we do our work, what needs to be done, regardless of our gender. Your weight or health condition doesn't make your work less needed."

"But…" Steve paused, considering his words, thinking about hers. "You're right. But I want to do better."

"If you're certain, I shall not be anything but supportive. I just wanted to make sure that's what you wanted and that you know the risks you're taking." Steve nodded, though he still frowned upon her words.

"I do, I know…" His eyes looked for hers. On very rare occasions he allowed himself to glance her so deeply in the eyes. "I just—Why do you worry so much?" Then, her lips grew to a smile. She though rather amusing on how he had no clue on why it worried her so much. Peggy wasn't exactly open about those things, but she never prevented herself of flirting him when they were alone. Now she realized he might not have noticed, or she just wasn't that clear. It was remarkably cute.

"I supposed it's past my bed time." Peggy trailed off though, standing up. Steve followed her lead and they were two steps away from another. He was confused, she hadn't answered his question, but he wasn't bold enough to ask it again or why. "I'll be the one escorting you to the procedure. We have to be there at eight o'clock on the dot." He nodded. She smiled even wider when he didn't ask anything about his unanswered question.

"Alright. Have a goodnight, Peggy." She'd have left the room with that feeling of dissatisfaction she always did, when they parted every night with such simple farewells, at least ever since she had tasted his lips. But for a brief second, when she looked down that tiny Steve she knew, and the concern of the next day changing it all, Peggy took a leap of faith.

She stepped forward those two huge steps that separated them, trailed her hands up his scrawny chest, pulled him by the shirt to close the remaining distance between them and collided her lips against his. Steve was shocked, frozen for the first second. His lips barely unable to move. She did the job working her mouth against his, trailing her tongue between his lips. Steve's eyes shut unconsciously and before he knew, his hands were gripping at her waist.

Willingly to learn, his mouth became bold, pressing against hers in what seemed a gentle massage. Smooth and slow, yet aching and desperate. A quiet storm from inside out.

He was breathless but couldn't bring himself to part their lips, afraid it'd only be an illusion made by his creative mind—or some result of his inner passion and admiration for the Agent. So he didn't back away, instead moving further trailing his hands up, tangling his fingers in her brown locks finding there the pins that kept the curls in place.

Peggy on the other hand, never shy, cupped palms against his cheeks, dived further with him. Mouth intense, sucking on his tongue that wanted to make its own war with hers.

A noise outside made them both jump away from each other's arms. Peggy was breathless but Steve panted like she had made him do a hundred pushups. She couldn't help her giggle looking at him, mouth swollen, dirtied by her red lipstick; hair mushed by her anxious and worried fingers; concerned stare. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

"Wow." His gaze was equally of admiration. Goddammit, how could she be so stunning? Hair still perfectly in proper place, lips equally swollen and blurred, wild eyes and a stern breathing that brought him back to the reality where they had actually kissed passionately in his tent.

They stood like this for a couple of moments, taking in what had just happened.

"You should try to sleep." When it was proven no one was entering or approaching the tent, she stepped forward reaching out for his face, fixing the spots of lipstick traces she left behind. "I'll be here seven-thirty to escort you." He nodded, too taken by the softness of her thumb pressing against his lower lip to process anything. "Don't be late, soldier." He didn't say a word again and Peggy smiled genuinely proud with herself, turning on her heels to leave. "And stop getting so bloody shocked whenever I kiss you."

Steve instinctively held her hand, stopping her exit. "Peggy."

"Yes?"

He stepped closer. "Have a goodnight." It was the sweetest thing, the way he bent over, almost tiptoeing, to press a kiss on her cheek while his thumb caressed her palm.

"You too." She was blushing. Peggy didn't remember the last time she had blushed so considerably, but it was Steve now who smiled like a proud son of a bitch. She was speechless, also very unlikely of Margaret Carter. Suddenly that, the affection they felt for each other, it became new to them both—in a different point of view to each.

After she went her way and Steve moved back to lie down in bed, none of them were really able to close their eyes, but for different motives this time. When they eventually did, it was to greet each other in dreams.

This fantasy, this fallacy, this tumbling stone

Echoes of a city that's long overgrown

Your heart is the only place that I call home

Can I be returned?

You can, you can, you can…

- Heartlines, Florence + The Machine

"Do you remember when you kissed me the day before my procedure?" Steve asked in a nostalgic tone, for him it felt like just yesterday when she pulled him towards her and kissed that shrinkalink boy that he was. Crawling on his chest as they sat on the living room couch, Peggy grinned.

"Of course I do, darling." Mindlessly, her pointer ran up and down his chest, caressing the extension, covered by the white cotton shirt, with lingering sweetness. "I remember all our kisses."

"That was probably my favorite..." He grinned too, still missing those times back when they had to live in the secrecy of their passion. This was good too, but so new and different, Steve still found a hard time not looking around before he leaned over to kiss her. "You were clearly worried and I'm pretty sure that kiss was what helped me sleep in the aftermath of the nervousness."

"And here I thought it'd be one of those times we were jumping on each other's bones behind the tents at midnight." Peggy said dramatically and that made him poke her ribs, shaking his head softly.

"Those too." He sealed it kissing her cheek. "But that time… It was special. It was the first time I made you blush."

"After I made you blush." Peggy retorted with a wicked smirk that made him nod.

"Yes. But it wasn't like you weren't making me blush for the past weeks." He huffed a little, thinking back how he was such a puddle in her hands. Steve felt like he still was, to be honest, as not that much time seemed to have passed for him.

"You were the cutest thing I had ever seen and so attractive and masculine at the same time… Your inner strength, your will to serve and help." He noticed the dreamy tone in her voice and smiled wider, pulling her up close.

"I'm almost certain it was the other way around… I was the one swooning over you, even when you were calling us less vivid than your deceased grandmother." They shared a laugh and Peggy reached out for his cheek, caressing it softly.

"You were always quite vivid for me, my darling. I was just doing what I do best in the field."

"That's a lie, you're a great fighter too. Excellent trainer but equally good on body to body combat."

"Oh, would you think so." By the way she smirked at him, Steve could tell how drastically the air in their conversation changed.

"I remember so."

Lips connected like magnets.

Lion, France. Present time.

Sitting on a tall bench, Sarah groaned in pain when Natasha pressed a cotton, submerged in alcohol, to her wounded arm. "That was a close one, Sarah." Natasha commented a bit disturbed and worried. She was skillful, she had to stich herself once back in the day, so she didn't mind taking care of Sarah's arm.

"He got me by surprise. Ouch!"

"Don't whine." Natasha rolled her eyes a bit, though her lips curved up slightly.

"Nat." It was Clint who called out as he entered the room. They both glanced at him as he went and sat next to Sarah. "What's the deal with this dude? He's good. He was one and we were four, yet he managed to escape and hurt both Sarah and Sharon."

"How's she?" Sarah intervened, questioning about her cousin.

"Resting, she'll be alright." Clint assured.

"Believe me, he wasn't alone." Natasha shook her head a little, focusing her eyes on Sarah's injury, she knew Peggy would be mad about it once she learned what happened so she wanted to be on the good side to say she helped fixing the team's error. "I think I know him, but I'm not certain yet. He was trained by the same people who trained me, that's certain. I know his moves and he knows mine, that's how he predicted me and chased after Sarah."

"You said it was ghost story…" Sarah pointed out, remembering her words before they left New York.

"If he's really who I'm thinking, he was injected with the same serum as me which is a variety of… Well, Steve Rogers' serum. Because he should be ninety now." She explained, trashing some things and focusing back on them. "I was a kid when I met him and he was already very young for his age."

"That man who attacked us doesn't look like he's ninety." Clint pointed out.

"Exactly."

"If he's ninety, he's the same age as mom." Natasha nodded at Sarah. "So he was fighting during the war."

"That's what the story tells. What I could never find out was on which side…" Natasha thought for a moment. "They used to wipe out soldiers, test them… Back in the forties. He might be one of those. Or just someone who volunteered. I remember a couple of twins who did it in Sokovia, but recently. So he could pretty much from any country."

"Including the States." Clint concluded and Natasha nodded in agreement.

"This can't be good." Sarah sighed a little disturbed.

"We'll figure it out." Clint added optimistic. "I hope in the good way."

I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back

The less I give the more I get back

Your hands can heal, your hands can bruise

I don't have a choice, but I'd still choose you

I don't love you, but I always will…

- Poison and Wine, The Civil Wars

New York, NY. Peggy's apartment.

There was a small breeze coming from the downtown part of the city always entered Margaret's apartment, especially during this time of the year. Her room was chilly and even with the lights down, she saw him shiver just slightly.

"All right?"

"The cold just gives me some chills." He explained very calmly. Instead of suggesting anything, she offered him the comfort of her warm and avid fingers, running them softly through his torso, covered by the lightest fabric of his shirt. Her hands ran a smooth and slow path up his chest, shoulders, neck. It was like Peggy knew exactly what she was doing, lighting up bonfires on his skin. The room air got heavier and Steve didn't hesitate stepping forward. Needy hands across her waist, back, gripping over her blouse lapel until their skins met underneath it.

It was her turn to shiver.

Peggy gripped his neck purposefully pulling Steve towards her. Their mouths greeted each other in a passionate battle, fighting back and forth for control, and yet it seemed so much like a dance, synchronized and intense. Both were so willingly to offer and steal back domination.

She was painting when they pulled back. He had a stronger breathing rage, now, but his chest moved steady as well. When their eyes met, she was glancing Steve so lustfully, the intensity of all seventy years apart exchanged in a single gaze. He couldn't help gripping her by waist and back closer again, making her gasp in anticipation.

"You have far too many clothes on, soldier." She announced her discontentment with a grin and Steve, always an obedient man, pulled back just enough to remove the white fabric.

Peggy never forgot the day she first saw him like this, the Adonis figure stepping out of the machine, breathing deep and covered in sweat as if he had just ran a marathon. Yet, eyes and expression still looking so much like the scrawny man that stepped inside the tub few minutes before. Peggy had been scared for him all this time and he just appeared looking even better than he already was. She had been equally outraged and dazzled.

After that, she had seen him shirtless—naked more precisely, so many times. When they'd make love in the silent nights of the war camps. Or in cheap hotels every time she was to follow the Commandoes. And she had missed that sight so badly, she had missed him so dearly.

Steve did too. He knew little of what it was like to be apart for so very long. But it seemed deep inside he understood. The beautiful contrast of the red nails on his skin, the deep friction, the inner shiver that generated. He had most certainly missed those sensations only Peggy Carter caused him.

They stepped together next to the bed and Peggy was the one to push him down before she straddled him. They rolled over but she still managed to be on top.

Steve eyes roamed up as he supported his body on his elbows to meet her halfway for a kiss.

"You're wearing too many clothes." He repeated her words, putting his point out while already rolling her shirt up her body and off. The brasserie was very different to what he had been used to see her on. The war times asked for something more comfortable, even if Peggy always managed to wear beautiful undergarments. This was certainly more modern, delicate and gave her milky skin a breathtaking contrast with its deep petroleum blue. He was happy to discover lace and silk still were an option in undergarments these days.

"Disappointed?" She wondered for a second before Steve promptly shook his head.

"They're different but very beautiful. I hardly think anything could look bad on you." His sweetness always melted her heart and she thanked him the compliment by pulling his hands and placing them on her breasts. Peggy knew Steve to completely worship them and he only a few times stepped over the line to that. They had been intimate for a very long time and then she found completely charming that he always asked if it was all right to do it. After seventy years, bloody hell, she surely wanted him to touch her.

"They really haven't changed." He pointed politely, smirking. With a bit of effort, Steve sat up and let his hands trail to her back. Peggy frowned instantly, but as he unbuckled her bra it brought the smile back to the scarlet lips. The sensation of freeing them and his skin rubbing her sensitive areas were equally fulfilling. She let her hands move to his hair so she'd grab fistfuls of his locks, moaning his name low.

Steve was eager on his touch, but as well gentle and patient. Squeezing them softly between his palms, lingering his caress on her hardened nipples, until he finally replaced one hand with his mouth.

Peggy gasped gripping his hair tighter between her fingers, a deep sigh escaping between her lips. God, she almost cried out. In normal circumstances, the touch would have been appreciated indeed. But that was Steve doing it, the man she thought to have lost for so long. The realization of that made her whole world narrow down to them, to the fact they were finally together again, given all the odds.

"Steve…" Peggy breathed out heavily whilst her chest arched towards him. It didn't make him stop, instead working as his fuel when he moved to give the other breast the same amount of attention.

He could feel her heartbeat, steady against his lips. Goddammit, he had missed her and he didn't even realize how much that pained him. He tried to private himself for those thoughts ever since he woke from that endless sleep. But now that they came up to the surface, Steve realized how much he loved Peggy and how the years he had been frozen only served his inner self to grow to love her even more.

And Steve was about to show Peggy how much he loved her.