Of course, not everything can be settled that rapidly. Holly realized very quickly that Steve would ultimately still be unhappy with her after discovering her overt mission. Put frankly, she knew that his trust issues ran deep, and he could have considered what she'd done a subversion of his faith in her. That made her uneasy, though the rest of that evening was spent in his company, without further reprimand. They both seemed to make a conscious effort not to clutter up the air with more talking; she sure as hell had no idea what else to say, then. Holly could imagine he wouldn't, either.
Popping in a DVD for them to watch, she wondered if that was why film and television were invented: to distract people from their uncomfortable situations in life.
The tense set of his jaw, his stiff shoulders, were good physical reminders of Steve's displeasure, but he didn't release her hand for the duration of the film, a bad comedy that succeeded in getting them both to crack up a little. She only let go when she went to get some painkillers and chocolate, her tried-and-true method of combating her monthly pains. She'd had her fill of emotions earlier, and was glad to chase them off for a brief time.
The fact that he chose to spend the night back at the house, rather than with her, stung a bit, but she couldn't exactly stop him from doing so. And she wouldn't, anyway; he probably just wanted a chance to clear his head, even if it made her heart tighten a little.
As he stepped towards the front door, she sat on the arm of the couch, peering over his head. Her arms crossed over her chest, her position a little defensive. Holly had spent too much of the day being weepy and emotional; she was determined to be strong in the face of her goof. "G'night."
Expecting him to walk out the door, she was surprised to find Steve backtracking, his hand cupping her chin and his lips firmly kissing hers in farewell. Her confusion must have been evident on her face, because he shook his head slightly and shot her a sad grin upon seeing it. With one more chaste peck, Steve tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before turning on his heel.
"Good night, Holl."
Once the door shut behind him, Holly sighed, rubbing at the mild ache in her back and knowing full well that her only bed companion would be the heating pad.
"Well done, Martin, well done," she grumbled, the hot pain making her hiss and walk to bed partly hunched.
xXxXxXx
"You're up early."
The voice in the dark caught Sam unawares, and he jumped a little in reaction. Seconds after he realized who had spoken, he shook his head and flicked on the overhead light. The captain was there, dressed in his street clothes, somehow more coherent at that hour than Sam ever had been, even when he was in basic training.
"I'm barely up at all," he groused, making a beeline for the half full coffee pot. "Morning, Steve."
Steve lifted his mug in greeting, attempting a grin, but it fell flat. He was seated at the table, half-turned towards the window. He'd been awake for around an hour, watching the sky lighten for the coming day and thinking.
"I'm surprised to see you here," Sam commented quietly, taking out a mug for himself. Mornings after Steve had returned from New York, he rarely could be found in the house, let alone settled in with coffee and lack of sleep apparent in his face. Something must have happened, though he couldn't imagine what. Not that either party was perfect, fighting didn't often happen between him and Holly. Playful jibes at one another, sure, but those were the worst that he'd witnessed.
"I do still live here, technically," Steve pointed out, the humor in his smirk not quite reaching his eyes. He still handed over checks towards the mortgage and the other bills, after all. Didn't want to freeload, and hadn't since he first moved in.
The other man nodded in concession, filling his cup to the brim and taking the seat opposite his friend at the table. "Technically, but in practice you've been all sorts of other places lately."
Steve shrugged one shoulder, tapping his fingers along the side of the mug and looking outside once more.
"Just needed to be here. Clear my head."
Silence fell on the pair, both of them stewing in their separate thoughts. Sam, for one, was hoping that whatever went down wasn't terribly serious. He'd had enough issues with Riley and his women troubles back in the day, and wading into another friend's potential relationship quagmire was unappealing to say the least. Swallowing another gulp of coffee, he tried to suppress a wince. Steve always made it way too strong. He was beginning to contemplate starting breakfast when Steve finally chose to speak again.
"Holly found Peggy."
Blankly, Sam stared at him, the name coming in from the haze of his memory. Off his lost expression, Steve sighed under his breath, fishing something out of his pocket. A silver compass clicked open in his hand, and he passed it off to his partner. Upon seeing the aged photograph inside, it clicked in Sam's mind. Oh, that Peggy. Compass Peggy. Peggy-founder-of-SHIELD-Carter.
Clicking the instrument shut again, he passed it back along the table, mimicking Steve's earlier shrug. "I suppose she would find out about her, Peggy Carter was a pretty big deal—"
Steve cut him with a curt gesture, clapping up the compass and stashing it away again. "No, no. Not 'found out.' Found. She went out to meet her."
The tone in his voice caught Sam's attention. Oh, man.
"Oh. I'm guessing she didn't tell you about it beforehand."
The captain's lips thinned. "Not a word. Found the address on some paper in her living room."
Ah, there was the heart of the matter: Holly hadn't spoken up about the idea of a meeting. She'd left him in the dark. Sam leaned back in his chair, turning the thought over for a moment. Rehashing the evening wasn't exactly what he wanted to do, but he did make it clear that she had gone with decent intentions, implying that she was seeking Peggy's permission to keep seeing him in a way. Sam's eyebrows rose a little when his partner confessed that, a little stunned that she'd reached out with such intentions. Throughout his explanation, Steve's face remained grim, though he didn't look implacably furious. If he had to wager a guess, he'd say the guy just looked…perturbed. And coming from someone who had seen Captain America lose his composure, if ever so briefly, he could recognize the shift in emotion.
Though his mug had long since gone cold, Steve forced himself to swallows the dregs of it, the cold bitterness snapping him back to reality. Getting up, he moved back to the pot, emptying it and swishing it out with water from the tap. "So what's your take?"
Adrift in the sea of emotion was not something he was entirely comfortable with. Learning quickly as he was, relationships with a woman, any woman, still threw him for a curve. The previous evening had been spent pondering what he felt about it all, and so far the only summary he could come up with was this: it was upsetting, and he had thought he was done with the secrecy. Perhaps Sam could provide some insight, in case he missed something.
Considering the question, Sam tilted his head to the left and squinted. He was as familiar as anyone could be with his partner's dislike of secrecy. "Well, it's not like she spawned an evil organization within another organization with the intent of destroying the world."
Steve snorted, a wry snicker coming out of his mouth. Okay, maybe what she'd done wasn't that dire. She was no Arnim Zola, and thank God for it.
His blue eyes softened, and the corner of his mouth twisted up. "It still wasn't a good move on her part."
"Maybe not," Sam conceded, shaking his head. Holding up a hand preemptively, he continued, "It still could have been worse. The girl met with your, for all intents and purposes, ex. Whom you've personally described as a good woman. Holly didn't exactly sell nuclear secrets to Iran, or something just as terrible."
The finality in his voice made Steve pause, and raise an eyebrow.
"Speaking from experience?"
His friend began rubbing his temple, the unpleasant memories rolling through his brain. "In a way. My last girl told my mother about everything we did, in detail—and I mean everything—because she could. That happened right before we broke up, too."
The men shared a simultaneous shudder. The last of his coffee finished, the younger man rose form his chair, padding over to the sink.
"Dealing with Iran would have been less explosive."
Steve let out a low whistle. "Yikes."
Sam shot him a look that clearly said, You don't know the half of it.
"At least you found out from her directly, and not from, say, her mother."
Now the captain openly winced. "Strike my 'yikes' and upgrade it to 'geez.'"
The other man chuckled, a little forced, but it helped ease the tension somewhat.
"So what's bothering you the most: the fact that she did it or that she did it without you knowing?" he asked, rinsing out his mug. Watching out the corner of his eye, he saw Steve's eyes flick back and forth, silently considering which option was the winner.
He couldn't give a straight answer, because he didn't have one. It was a jumbled mess, all of it: the sneakiness, the deception, Holly bothering Peg while she was…not well, Steve's own impotent anger at deliberately keeping his mouth shut about his past, annoyance at himself for neglecting her natural curiosity, and for her completely bypassing him to get her answers. For making her feel like she needed validation, or approval, from Peggy in the first place.
"Again, she did come clean when you asked. And hell, she probably was going to, anyway. Eventually," Sam repeated, waiting a moment as Steve inclined his head in confirmation. It wasn't a blatant damage of trust, not one that couldn't be mended. "So she goofed up. Just don't burn her at the stake for it."
Another moment passed, in which Steve let his statement hang in the air unanswered. Dipping his head once, Sam pivoted, taking himself out of the room with the hopes that what he'd said would remain with Steve. And he also hoped this would be the only time he had to play couples' therapist. He got better pay working with the veterans in comparison.
xXxXxXx
Hesitant knocking at the door Monday morning alerted Steve to the new arrival, and he wasn't at all surprised by the silhouette falling across the shaded inset window. Yesterday was spent on his own, setting things in his room to rights and attempting to alternate between ignoring his thoughts and indulging them. Holly, aside from her texts, did not try to pull him out, and he was grateful for her perceptiveness on his mood. An hour earlier, she'd called, asked if she could stop by quick before work. Having lost out on a day with her already, he was glad enough to acquiesce.
Sighing, he opened the door slowly, peering around it with a careful expression. His girlfriend, perched on his stoop, was tacitly waiting for him, wrapper in warm layers against the chill fall day. A couple pages of paper were tucked under her fingers, which she kept shifting to keep warm.
"Hey," he murmured, noticing the bags underneath Holly's eyes. So he wasn't the only one to not sleep well the night before. Not great, he chastised himself, for either of them. Steve found a smile for her; not a hardship for him to do so, but still. Circumstances and all that.
Giving him a tentative grin, Holly motioned at the door with her free hand.
"Hi. Mind if I come in?" she asked, a cold breeze stirring her hair. Tugging her coat a little tighter, she chided herself for looking, and most likely sounding, like a miserable urchin. "Little cold out."
Holding the door open, Steve immediately ushered her in, concern coming onto his face. "Of course."
Disembarking to the living room, she waited until he got within a few feet of her before she thrust out the papers at him. Screwing up his brow in confusion, he stared down at her offering.
"What's this?"
Her brown eyes were guileless, and she guided the papers into his grasp. A tired smirk curled her mouth, and she raised a shoulder in complicity.
"It's me evening the playing field. And…giving an apology."
His lips turned down into a frown. "You didn't seem all that sorry at the time."
Meeting his disapproving gaze, she clicked her tongue, willing herself to not get overly defensive.
"Depends on your perspective," she shot back, her tone sharper than she'd intended. Rolling her eyes, she sat down on the couch with a heavy thump. Not a graceful, light maiden, she. Crossing her arms over her chest, Holly met his eyes frankly. "I'm not sorry I met Peggy, if that's what you're getting at. I liked her,; she was very cool. I can see why you like her, too."
As he drew breath to speak, she cut him off swiftly, raising her hands in the universal sign of surrender.
"What I am sorry for is not telling you. But I thought, well, I thought you'd get upset."
He snorted, dropping down next to her on the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, well, good call."
That caused her to go quiet, though he could hear her breathing deeply to keep herself calm. He could feel the rise of emotion, sweeping him up little by little. Coughing, Steve looked at her, really looked at her. Stubbornly maintaining her position, Holly's face was an open book, even though she said nothing. A genuine flicker of sorrow reflected in her irises, and he reached out, fingers settling along her arm. The wool of her coat scratched him, anchored him in a way.
"Peggy, she…doll…" Steve did not know how to continue, and after a few moments, Holly felt brave enough to pick up the thread.
"I think get it now. Not talking about her protected her, in a way. And it protected you, too. It caused you pain, otherwise. That's what I'm sorry for: I didn't intend to hurt you, either of you. I lo—I care about you," she stumbled, ignoring the sharp turn of his head and driving forward. Her overheated face deepened to a harsh crimson, and she couldn't blame it on wearing her coat inside. "I care about you too much to want that. I wanted insight, no matter what anyone thought. Selfish, I guess."
She shrugged, self-deprecating, the near slip of the tongue shocking her more than anything else. What she'd almost said…holy crap…did she mean it? Swallowing against her dry throat, she glanced up to see a mirror image of her own stunning expression on her boyfriend's face.
Once, twice, Steve cleared his throat, before exhaling sharply. Issue at hand, he reminded himself.
"So, evening the playing field…?" he murmured finally, unfolding the papers. One was a photograph of a young man, with dark blue eyes and sandy hair, and an impish smirk on his lips. He was crouched down, posing in front of an ATV and looking pleased as punch. Beneath it, a phone number in tidy writing was scrawled. Grimacing, Steve shot Holly a questioning look.
The look on her face was such a missed cross of discomfort and amusement that Steve nearly laughed, from sheer awkwardness.
"That's my ex-boyfriend, Jake Kinsey. You can find him on Facebook, probably Twitter…do some digging of your own," she explained, nodding at it and wincing. She could think of no other way to make the situation she'd put them in any better. Shrinking a little in her seat under his scrutiny, she at least was trying. "It's no less than what I did, if you choose to pursue it."
Tit for tat, he observed silently, but not entirely. Her peace offering was intrusive, but Holly did at least voice an apology as well. She'd subverted his privacy; she was willing to let him do the same, if it would make things square between them. And even if it still didn't make everything okay right away, she was making the effort to set things to rights. Whatever she could do to make it better, she would, because, well…her heart wanted this to work. For as long as it could.
"I'm sorry, Steven."
Then, as if she were almost afraid to do it, she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. That really shook him; he never wanted her to think he would be so upset that he wouldn't want her touch. As she pulled away, he followed, searing her lips with his own.
"Just because I don't like something you did doesn't mean I stopped caring," he said once the kiss had ended, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. Holly blinked, and placed a hand over his, patting lightly. "For the record."
Not one hundred percent fixed, but it was on its way. Good thing, too, as there were bigger fish to fry out there, and they both knew it.
"Well, at least there's that," Holly remarked drily, returning his half grin with a genuine one in kind.
A/N: I have no excuse for being late on this chapter. I rediscovered Sims 4. And there went my free time.
Sorry if this chapter was laying on the sap so thick you could cut it with a knife, but last chapter didn't feel totally resolved. Because Holly did mess up (a little, at least), she would have wanted to make things right in some way. And hello, Sam the Therapist. :-P He wasn't too happy to be dragged into it, but at least he managed to get himself out.
If you're for something with more action, might I suggest some other fics? Or wait a few chapters on this one, whichever you choose...
I would like to get out of October in the next chapter, but...can I really pass up Halloween so easily?;)
Thanks for all the reviews, everyone. You have no idea how much it means to me to read your positive words of encouragement.
That said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, review again if you feel so inclined, and I'll see you for the next one!
