Author's note: Remember twenty chapters ago when Peggy visited Coulson? Yes? No? Well, keep it in mind.

Chapter Twenty-six

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Peggy watched until the quinjet shrank and vanished into the clouds. The hangar suddenly seemed very large and empty, but she straightened her back, heart still glowing from their farewell kiss.

"Right," she said to nobody in particular. "FRIDAY, please close the hangar doors." Then, with a brisk purpose in her step, she left the docking bay and caught the elevator.

There was work to be done.

Peggy's dressing table was a semi-tidy jumble of scarves, hairpins, and makeup, in direct contrast to her husband's bedside table which was neat as the proverbial pin. Once she'd reached her room, Peggy rifled through the odd assortment, turning things over in reckless abandon as she looked for the one thing that was never far from her grasp in either war or peace.

When a person hides something, there are a lot of variables to take into account. Someplace one person may think completely secure might actually be accessed by janitorial staff on a regular basis, or a person of different height might find it right away. Taping things to lampshades, dropping them behind furniture - even inside the toilet tank wasn't as inconspicuous as most people thought. Peggy had learned that lesson ages ago, working with the SSR.

On the other hand, keeping things in plain sight nearly always worked, especially when the item in question was small - specifically, a one-and-a-half inch silver flash drive.

"This is the answer to your question," Coulson had said, typing something on a hidden screen and then pulling the flash drive out of the machine. He slid it across the desk to her. "Everything you want to know about the particular project in your file." Pausing, he shot her a very serious look. "Don't use it lightly. If there's ever something really big, then pull it out and take a look. Otherwise, hide it someplace and forget you ever had it."

Ultron was pretty important.

Uncapping her favorite tube of lipstick, Peggy unscrewed it as far as it would go and then used a nail file to carefully remove the bullet of makeup. Underneath, caked in scarlet, the silver flash drive glinted.

Nobody but Natasha would be likely to look for a flash drive in a tube of lipstick. With fingers skilled from long practice and a lifetime of waste-not-want-not principles, Peggy reassembled the tube of makeup and washed off her hands and the nail file in the sink. Then, carefully wiping off the silver drive, Peggy moved to Steve's office - in truth more hers than his these days - and flipped on the computer.

For such a tiny device, the drive held a startling amount of information. With a practiced eye, Peggy scanned the schematics, maps, and time sheets. She raised an eyebrow - and then the other. Then she reached for the phone.

"Nicolas," she crisply greeted when the line was picked up. She didn't bother to sound particularly cordial. "We need to talk."

It took a while to explain. Ultron wasn't in Korea anymore - he was in Sokovia, and the Avengers had gone out to try and minimize the damage.

"The Maximoff twins are on our side now, and we've offered them protection," Peggy informed him, careening on before he had time to protest. "Also an - associate of Thor's." How else was she supposed to explain it? If she identified him as a joint creation of Ultron and Tony, the red-skinned android would be doomed from the start.

"Another Asgardian?" Fury sounded curious. "We haven't had any readings indicating another Einstein-Rosen bridge."

"He's not Asgardian," Peggy responded evasively. "He's red, and wears a cape. At least, he did last time I saw him. He also flies."

Fury's curiosity was palpable, even over the phone, so Peggy adroitly changed the topic. "Speaking of which, they need backup. I told them I'd call you in."

She could practically feel his mood darken, even over the phone line. "First of all, I'm retired. And second, nobody 'calls SHIELD in.'" The sound of creaking leather came over the line - he must be shifting uneasily in his chair. "Besides, we've got nothing big enough and fast enough to get over there. The Avengers can handle this."

"The day you retire completely is the day I eat my hat," Peggy retorted promptly and with heat. Nick Fury couldn't have left the organization entirely alone if he'd tried, and they both knew it perfectly well. "Wanda Maximoff and Thor's associate both swear that Ultron plans to destroy all human life on the earth. I think that's enough to warrant a helping hand from SHIELD."

The mutter that came over the line was not encouraging. Peggy sighed resignedly, looked at the flash drive and the images flashing on the computer screen in front of her, and played her trump card.

"I need you to call in Theta Protocol."

Dead silence resonated over the line. Peggy's lips curled into a triumphant smile.

"Someone needs to put a paper bag over Coulson's head," Fury finally grumbled. "Theta Protocol is SHIELD's last ace. We're not about to pull it out until it's absolutely necessary. I'll wait and see if it's needed."

Something snapped in Peggy's chest. "Oh no, you don't." Her voice dropped, low and deadly, throbbing with feeling. "This is what SHIELD is supposed to be - protection, not reaction. There are good men and women out there, fighting with the expectation of backup. Now, call in Theta Protocol - or I'll do it myself."

She knew then that she had won, even without seeing Fury's face.

Theta Protocol was the code name for the last remaining rotor-style helicarrier. It had survived the Battle of New York before being retired in favor of the new repulsor engine models, which had subsequently been destroyed by Captain Rogers when he took down Project Insight. In the resulting tumult, Fury and a handful of his trusted agents had managed to get the last helicarrier off the books and smuggled to a repair dock.

Or rather, they'd gotten it mostly off the books. Even the most skillful paperwork manipulation was unable to completely make a 150,000 ton amphibious aircraft and the corresponding repair location vanish entirely. There were enough small hints left over that Peggy, who was scouring old SHIELD records for mention of their erstwhile friend, had caught on, and confronted Coulson.

She'd known that such a thing might come in handy - and tonight it had.

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In the end, SHIELD relented. Even though it was almost midnight, they called in a handful of their most trusted to make up the crew complement.

Rather to Peggy's surprise, she was invited to accompany the helicarrier.

"Give me ten minutes and I'll call you back," she'd told him, and slipped out of the suite and down the hall.

"Agent Hill."

The security chief flinched just slightly - in anybody else, it would have been a full on jump of surprise. Few people could sneak up on Maria Hill, but apparently Peggy Carter Rogers was one of them.

"Agent Carter," she responded, curious despite herself. "What's up?"

"Theta Protocol is up. At least, it will be shortly." Peggy eyed Maria closely as she spoke, and while the SHIELD agent was pretty sure her mask was impenetrable, she couldn't help feeling just a touch antsy at the scrutiny. After all, this was Peggy Carter, legendary founder and director of SHIELD, sweetheart and fellow soldier and wife of Captain America. Maria had even written the essay in her SHIELD entrance exam on her.

But this was also the woman who'd been holding her at gunpoint only a few days before. And judging from the stress on Maria's title, she was still less than thrilled about being uninformed of the agent's true alliance and active SHIELD status.

"Theta Protocol?" Maria asked instead.

Peggy threw her a long-suffering look. "Oh heavens, don't try to play coy with me, Hill." She leaned both hands against the tabletop. "I've been in touch with Fury. The helicarrier is arriving off the coastline in fifty-eight minutes and lifting off five minutes later to rendezvous with the Avengers in Sokovia. I need you on it."

Maria blinked. She hadn't expected that. "I thought you didn't trust me."

The dark brown eyes trained on her face didn't waver. "Fury does. You're loyal to him, and you've worked with Captain America in the past, and that's what I'm looking for."

Well, put like that, there was no reason for her to refuse. Maria nodded, already mentally assembling the supplies she would need. "I'll be there."

Peggy Rogers gave her one last searching look, and then straightened. "Give Nicholas my best," she called over her shoulder as she turned toward the door.

The woman disappeared, and Maria Hill looked after her before shaking her head in wonder. She checked her watch, and then slung her purse over her shoulder, automatically checking the concealed firearm inside. There would be barely enough time to get her things together and make it to the waterfront.

It never occurred to her to wonder why Peggy wasn't going until she was stepping on board the helicarrier.

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The inside of the quinjet was dark and quiet. On autopilot, it soared over the ocean, while the the Avengers tried to catch some sleep. The twins huddled in a corner, Wanda fast asleep with her head on Pietro's shoulder, their hands intertwined. Thor snored, less thunderously than one might have expected. Even Bruce appeared to have dropped off, though his fingers kept twitching, face creased in subconscious dread or anger.

Steve himself lay still, eyes firmly closed, mind almost achingly alert. Whether or not he could fall asleep, he was determined to at least rest. They would need all the energy they could get.

To his surprise, he actually drifted off a little after a bit, waking with a start as Clint brushed by on his way to the cockpit. After a few more minutes, he got up and followed.

He didn't notice Pietro's eyes open, twin slits of blue warily following him across the small space. The young man stayed stock still until the captain had passed, and then carefully began to disentangle himself from his sleeping sister.

In the cockpit, the archer sat in the pilot's seat, looking over the controls. At the sight of the captain, he nodded in acknowledgement. Steve's eyes were quick enough to catch the faces of Laura and the kids before Clint nonchalantly tucked a photo inside of his vest

"Cap. Couldn't sleep either?"

Steve settled into the chair next to him. He didn't need to answer. For a long time, the only sound was the drone of the engines.

"You know, you can sit this one out if you want to," Steve suddenly said, breaking the silence. He wasn't sure how they would manage without Barton, but the last thing he wanted to do was order a husband and father to his death. None of the Howling Commandos had been married.

Clint's shoulders shook in a soundless chuckle. "Now Cap, you can't get rid of me that easy. Besides, I owe it to Nat. She's stuck by me through a lot."

Steve nodded, and dropped the topic. He had to respect the other man's choice.

"How do you do it?" he asked instead. "Combine both lives like that, I mean."

The archer leaned back and put both feet on the control panel. When he spoke, it was with a low enough voice that none of the sleeping Avengers could have been able to detect it over the engines.

"It's not easy," he confessed quietly. "You miss a lot, having two different lives. There was this one mission a couple years ago in Budapest. I was deep undercover on some gig that's probably still classified, and one morning Nat showed up at the foot of my bed." He grinned and chuckled reminiscently. "Almost took her head off before I woke up all the way."

Steve listened quietly. He wasn't sure what the story had to do with his question, but waiting didn't bother him.

"Turns out Laura was in labor," Clint continued. His smile faded and his eyes grew distant, staring out the cockpit window unseeingly. "It was a month early, and Lila was posterior breech, and things weren't looking good. Nat found a way in to get me, and I completely threw the mission timetable up. We dropped my cover, grabbed the intel we needed, and then fought our way out."

His face was tight, dark, but it softened as he went on. "I missed the birth," he confessed. "But at least I was there to help afterwards. Speaking of which, Cap, when Laura has our kid, I'm taking maternity leave or paternity leave or going AWOL - whichever it is people do now."

Steve nodded. He'd expected nothing less.

"So why do you keep doing this?" he asked, genuinely curious. Clint Barton had the American Dream - a wife, house, dog, 2.5 kids - and yet he still chose to go out and put his life on the line.

Clint looked down and absently fingered the fletching on one of his arrows. "I've seen a lot of rotten junk in the world - and I'm in a place to do something about it. When I kick the bucket, I'd rather go out leaving a legacy behind for my kids; a world that's just a little bit less messed up."

That was something the captain could understand.

Neither man spoke again, both sitting back and watching the night through the windshield of the jet. The stars were the same - they never changed; there was some comfort in that.

And back in the rear of the quinjet, Pietro swiftly and silently slipped back to his sister's side, settling her head comfortably against his shoulder once more. His eyes were thoughtful and somehow softer as he watched the two men in the cockpit, only partially visible from his current vantage point.

Silence reigned again then, and the quinjet raced on over the endless ocean toward an unknown fate.

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Hi! *Squints at pages of timeline, nods* Probably not the chapter you were looking for, but it needed to happen. Next one up as soon as I can pull it together! And can I just say how enjoyable your reviews have been? Life has been nuts, and your reviews are little light spots that make my whole day better. Thank you!

Also, eeeeeek! Infinity War is almost upon us! No spoilers in the comments please. This time I might actually get to go see it in the theater, and I want to be surprised. Here's hoping they don't kill anybody. A girl can dream, right?


Laughy Taffy: *dodges wildly, then greets ducks at mailbox* Hi! Thanks! That bit about Vision looking like Red Skull was honestly one of the last things that I added, but it seemed to make sense. I mean, last time he saw Schmidt was when the guy got whisked away by the Tesseract, which showed up again around the same time Thor and Loki came back. And the superficial resemblance is remarkable. Glad you liked it!

Agent Bookworm: Oh my word - I am so, so sorry you and your family had to go through that! After studying this, I would never wish it on anybody, ever. (Also, wow, that is truly amazing your cousin lived that long with HLHS. That's definitely the longest survival time I've seen in the studies I've read. I'm glad you could have him for that long, though it must have been so hard.) I'm sending big hugs to you, and prayers for you and your family.

Aslan's Daughter: I have no idea if you'll see this, but I just wanted to thank you for the lovely reviews. Yesterday was so much fun, finding them in my inbox every so often! I was smiling on and off for hours. I'm glad you've been enjoying these stories. Hope you have a wonderful week!