Author's notes: For some reason this chapter was very difficult to write, I must have written and rewritten it at least a half-dozen times.

I also did do some modicum of research on rationing (which did not end until 1954 over England!) and Manchester, which I'm very glad I did as I did not know how badly it had been bombed.

So while I am no expert on the subject, and I'm certain I made some mistakes, I did try to at least to ground Peggy and Natasha's visit with some historical facts.

Chapter 10.

Manchester was one of many English cities that suffered greatly during the war. Having a strategic value meant that that the Germans were determined to decimate it, and they very nearly did. And even though the war was over, there were still plenty of reconstruction that still needed to be done. There were still buildings waiting to be either demolished or saved.

'Do you see that building over there?' Peggy asked pointing to a hull of building with her chin. 'I was one of first women to volunteer to work in the factories. I thought even if I couldn't be on the front line with the men, I could at least make sure they had the weapons to protect themselves with. It was only after I was nearly killed during the blitz that I realized I needed to do more.'

In the front seat, James and Howard shared a look. It was hard to imagine the brunette demurely working in a factory. To them she would also be brandishing a weapon, and leading men into battle.

'Is that when you met Dr. Erskine?' Howard asked from the passenger seat.

A fond look passed over Peggy's face as she remembered her first meting with the doctor. 'It was about a year and half after the blitz, actuality. By that time I had had many, many doors shut in my face because I was a woman. But Dr. Erskine sought me out, he said he had heard of a very persistent young lady who was refusing to take no for an answer.'

'Persistent.' Sargent Howlett said with a snort. 'More like stubborn like a mule.'

'I was thinking bullheaded myself,' the millionaire rejoined.

'Hardheaded.'

'Headstrong.'

'Oh shut up the both of you! I am not that bad, am I Nattie?'

'Well, sometimes . . .'

'Oh, Nattie. You too,' Peggy tsked at her daughter even as the men up front laughed. The brunette cast one last withering look at them before she too dissolved into laughter.

So what if she were stubborn. She would never have gotten where she were today if she had allowed herself to be dissuaded from her goals. She would never have met Steve, or the two men in the front seat who were every bit her brothers as the one her mother gave birth to. And she most certainly would never had met Natasha.

'Admit it, gentlemen, my stubbornness keeps your lives interesting. And let's be honest, none of us were made for the quiet life.'

James gave a curt nod. He couldn't imagine himself, or Howard, or Peggy, or sadly even Natasha sitting in the suburbs in a house surrounded by a white picket fence. HYRDA, the Red Room, and the Tesseract were merely the tip of the iceberg when it came to what weird shit was out there. Someone, or rather someones needed to be out there acting in secret as a shield between the people and whatever strangeness was out there.

The rest of the drive was quiet, and the further they got from downtown Manchester, the less evident the destruction was. Council houses had been quickly erected to house the millions of Brits, including Peggy's mother and father, who were made homeless during the war.

The car stopped in front of a semi-detached home, painted a pale yellow to match the white picket fence surrounding the building, and the small yard. Peggy was the first to get out followed quickly by Natasha, and the two men. The brunette paused at the gateway, and took a deep breath. The last time she had visited was just after the war had ended, and her parents were still in a shelter.

This new residence definitely looked as if it were a step up from her childhood home. And her mother had been quite excited to inform her daughter that they had their own indoor plumbing, and space for a small garden.

'Step lively you two,' Peggy ordered Howard and James. 'That luggage isn't going to carry itself.'

'Jesus,' the millionaire muttered to himself as he hefted a small trunk. 'You two are only going to be gone for two weeks, not two years. What the hell do you have in here?'

'I have my doll, and my teddy bear, and my crayons, and my paper, and the presents I made for grandma and grandpa,' Natasha piped in.

'Did you remember to pack your clothes, kid?' Sargent Howlett asked bemused.

Natasha's eyes widen in horror, and she nearly gave herself whiplash turning to stare at her mother in panic.

'Don't worry, I packed you plenty of clothes, Nattie,' Peggy said with a wink. 'As for you two get the lead out, there's still rationing going on in England. I promised my mother I'd bring her some things.'

'But did you have to bring the whole damn store with with you? And why do we have to play mule for you?' Howard asked, his tone was somewhere between exasperation, and amusement.

'Well you are stubborn like one,' the agent said. She then picked up her suitcase, and made her way down the small pathway to her parents new home. 'Now, come along gentlemen.'

'Yeah,' Natasha mimicked. 'Come along gentlemen.'

'Dames,' Howard muttered to James, hefting his load. 'They start so young.'

'You know, if you keep that kind of attitude up, you'll never find yourself a wife.'

'From your mouth to God's ear. I'll take my work over a dame any day of the week, and twice on Sunday.'

'I'm certain the feelings mutual. And what about you Sargent? Don't tell me you feel the same way?' Peggy asked. She threw a look over her shoulder at the Canadian.

'All right, I won't,' James said, and his tone suggested a finality to the subject.

Children and a wife were luxuries he wasn't going to get in this life. Even if he could find a woman who would willingly put up with him, there was still the matter of the blood on his hands. There was also the fact that he was older than all three of his companions combined, though his physical age suggested a hard living 30-year old.

Only Natasha shared his condition. Her healing factor would curse her to age slowly, and live a very long life. She would see the death of all her friends and family for generations to come, if she didn't at some point close herself down. It was to her that James had silently vowed to dedicate what was left of his affections to. He may never get the white picket fence, but he would do what he could to ensure the little redhead did not follow the same path as him.

This would be how he would honor the trust and camaraderie that both Steve and Peggy gave him.

The quartet barely made it to the stairs before the door swung open to reveal a slender woman in her mid-60's. She was shorter than Peggy by nearly half a foot, with dark brown hair streaked with gray. She was wearing a simple floral house-dress with matching slippers. The brunette barely had time to brace herself before being enveloped in a bone-crushing hug which cased her suitcase to drop to the ground with a thump.

'Mom, I'm okay,' Peggy said after a few moments, her arms encircling her mother's thin frame.

'I know, I know. But I'm still your mother, and I still worry, what with you traipsing all over the place going after Nazis and HYDRA, and whatever else. It's a wonder all my hair hasn't turned gray,' her mother said with a sigh. 'You couldn't be happy living a simple life, could you?'

Peggy gave a half smile, and a small shrug. 'Sorry?'

Helen pulled away slightly so she could look her daughter in the eyes. 'Don't ever be sorry. We raised you to think for yourself. Even if you do drive your poor parents batty with worry.'

'Yes, mom,' the brunette said with a chuckle. The agent may have had many, many doors shut in her face, but her parents have all ways supported unequivocally.

'Now, where is my little mystery granddaughter?' Helen asked as she pulled away fully.

'She's a little shy,' Peggy said while she tried to dislodge her daughter from the back of her legs. 'Come on sweetie, don't you you want to meet your grandmother?'

Natasha poked her head from around her mother's legs, and looked nervously up at the older woman with wide-eyes.

'Hi sweetie,' Helen said. She knelt down in front of the little girl so that they were eye to eye. 'Do you think you could give your grannie a hug?'

The little redhead looked at the kindly older woman, and then to her mother as if asking for permission. Peggy gave her an encouraging smile, and pointed her chin to Helen in a go ahead gesture.

The older woman was almost as good at hugging as her mother, (no one could beat Peggy's hugs). She smelt of rose perfume, and flour, and her embrace was warm and safe.

'You are such a little sweetheart,' Helen said. She pulled back to get a better look at the child who had managed to worm her way into her daughter's heart. Peggy had sworn up and down that no one would ever call her mother, so Helen was looking forward to seeing what it was about Natasha that changed her daughter's mind. 'And so tiny. Are you ready to meet your grandpa?'

Natasha looked from one woman to the other and then nodded her head. Her grandmother scooped her up, and carried her into the house where the head of the household waited patiently to meet his daughter, and granddaughter. He would have gone out to meet them right away, but they didn't want to overwhelm the poor child on her first day.

But once inside, Peggy's father made a beeline to his daughter and for the second time that day Peggy found herself in a bone-crushing embrace.

'Thank God you're all right,' he said. It was hard on him, hard on both of them, to see their children go off to war, knowing they could very well die, and being helpless to do anything about it. Many of his friends and neighbors had buried their sons, so every reunion was that much more precious.

'I'm okay, dad. We're all okay,' Peggy said. 'Now come on, no tears. We're all safe and sound, and God willing we'll all stay that way for a good long time.'

'Grandpa, are you okay? Are you sad?'

'No, sweetie, I'm not sad at all, I'm just relieved,' Micheal replied. The older man was nearly six feet tall, and what was left of his hair was as while as snow. 'And you must be me my little granddaughter. How about a great big hug for your grandpa?'

The little redhead practically lept into his arms earning a startled yelp from Helen, and a delighted laugh from her grandfather, Micheal. Any earlier shyness miraculously disappeared as Natasha clung to the older man.

'Ahem. I hate to spoil this little reunion,' the millionaire said from the doorway, the Sargent was behind him. 'But my arms are ready to fall off. Where do you want this stuff?'

'I'm so sorry,' Peggy said. 'Please come in, come in. I'll show you to the kitchen.'

'That's Uncle Howard and Uncle James,' Natasha explained to her grandparents while Peggy led the two men into the house. 'Mommy says there's still rationing, so she brought a whole bunch of stuff from America. Wasn't that nice of her?'

Helen smiled brightly. 'That was very nice of her, but why don't we go, and meet your Uncles?'

They entered the kitchen to find the brunette directing the two men on where to put bags of flour, canned goods, and tins of teas. Helen and Micheal couldn't help but well a little with pride at how easily their daughter managed to order about the American millionaire, and Canadian soldier.

Once they finished, Peggy made formal introductions.

'Would you gentlemen be staying for tea?' Helen asked.

'No ma'am,' James replied. 'I'm afraid once we get these two settled, we gotta go. We got some business to take care of.'

Howard nodded his head in agreement. 'We have an appointment we need to get to shortly. But we'll take you up on the offer, if it still stands, when we pick up the ladies in two weeks.'

'We'll hold you to that,' the older woman said.

True to their word, the two males dragged in Peggy and Natasha's suitcases, and placed them in their room before beating a hasty departure.

Once the car was no longer visible the three adults, and child went back inside the house, and into the living room where they each took a seat. Natasha and her grandfather sat on the recliner, where the little redhead made herself comfortable on his lap, while the two women sat on the sofa. Jet lag was starting to take its toll on the youngest Carter: the little girl was rubbing her eyes, and she couldn't fight a large yawn. The brunette was faring much better, but she was used to flying through different time zones.

'So, I know what the letters you've been sending us say,' Peggy's father said after a pause. 'But what's the real story.'