Chapter Fifteen
My devotion
Is endless and deep as the ocean
And like a star shining from afar
Remains forever the same
My devotion
Is not just a sudden emotion
It will be constantly burning
And your love will kindle the flame
What a sweet beginning
To the dream I planned
I'm content to be your slave
Your wish is my command
And this sensation
Was never a mere fascination
Here in my heart one sweet day it started
Then with time improved
My devotion to you.
My Devotion by Vaughn Monroe
"What in the hell does that say?" Emily muttered to herself, holding up the sheet of paper to try and decipher the chicken scratch. She'd spent the entirety of the flight trying to transcribe Howard's notes in order to send an update to the Army on the progress of the Department of Substitute Materials - aka the Manhattan Project. They'd been traveling across the country to checking in with the scientists involved with the design of the nuclear bomb.
After a moment, she sighed and set the paper on her lap. She pushed her glasses to the top of her head before she wiped her eyes and the bridge of her nose. Not for the first time did she bemoan the heavy weight of the glasses with their lenses made of actual glass and wire frames rather than plastic. The seat underneath her dropped, and Em felt as though she was weightless for a split second before she crashed back into the chair, the glasses falling back onto the tip of her nose.
"Going to hit a bit of turbulence!" Howard called out from the cockpit. "Might want to put on the seat belt."
"Got it," she replied, pushing the glasses up and shifting the pile of papers from her lap to the chair next to her. Once safely strapped in, Em rested her head against the wall, feeling the vibration of the propellers.
Working with Howard Stark was exhausting but exciting. Over the course of a month, she'd met with the movers and shakers of the US war industry and scientific community as well as a number of Hollywood stars. Though meeting J. Robert Oppenheimer - the father of the atomic bomb - had been a bust in her attempt to get home it was certainly memorable; however, Jimmy Stewart kissing her cheek was more so, even if Howard teased her about how much she'd blushed.
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she remembered that moment, a slight flush entering her cheeks yet again - she'd always thought that Stewart was attractive in her yearly rewatch of 'It's A Wonderful Life'.
Em felt herself drifting, lulled by the noise and jostling of the plane. When the plane dipped, she rose in her seat slightly, her stomach jumping at the momentary sensation of weightlessness before crashing back down. Her stomach lurched, and she felt a sudden wave of cramps wash over her; she frowned at the pain and tightened her arms around her middle.
" -ily?"
"Hmm?" she sighed, shifting in her seat to find a comfortable position as the cramps got worse.
"-can you...e?"
"What?"
"Trying...hold o-...EMILY!"
She started, jerking out of her seat and looking around. "Carter?"
"Huh?" Howard said.
"Nothing," she replied, her friend's voice echoing in her ears. Her the tips of her fingers were tingling and the cramps had disappeared. When something touched her top lip, she reached up and dabbed it, somewhat unsurprised to find a drop of blood there.
'Trying' he'd said, 'Hold on' ...Emily pushed away the bubble of doubt in the back of her mind that the message might have been a dream. It had felt like Carter had been right there, crouched in front of her, yelling at her to hold on.
A chuckle bubbled in her throat, and she clapped a hand to her mouth. A feeling of relief swept through her and - for the first time in the nearly six months she'd been here - she felt some hope that she would get back home.
OOO
"Usually we sit out on the quad," Dr. Samuel K. Allison said as he showed Howard and Emily around the University of Chicago campus, "but given your...notoriety, we thought it might be best to stay in the lab."
"Isn't it a security issue?" Emily asked, raising an eyebrow. "Talking about this project where so many people could overhear?"
"You'd be surprised," Dr. Allison shrugged.
Em nodded slightly, eyes drifting up in remembrance - in her own time, students were usually too busy listening to music or messing with their phones to pay much attention to what other people were saying. As she glanced around now, she saw that many of the students looking at them, a few whispering behind their hands and quite a few of the women giggling and batting their eyes at a not unaware Howard. For his part, Howard was winking at a few co-eds daring enough to walk past them. A few even braved a 'Hello, Mr. Stark'. It had been hell getting Howard out of bed for a 10 AM meeting but apparently having his ego flattered was doing more than her forcing coffee down his throat.
"Mr. Stark was my father!" Howard called, turning to walk backwards and wink at them. When Emily cleared her throat rather pointedly, he turned back around.
"Alright, Harthorn, fine. Eye on the job. So have you found a way to fuel the damn thing?" He asked Dr. Allison who shot a loaded look at Emily; in return, she gave him an apologetic smile.
"We've got an idea for how to," Dr. Allison answered before launching into an explanation. He was walking in front of them, gesturing as though he had a board in front of him to write on. Howard nodded along and made grunting noises to encourage him, even as he pulled Emily's elbow to have her slow down.
"Got a job for you, Em," he said softly.
"Already planning on taking notes."
"No. Need you to slip away and get me a meeting with Rogers."
"Rogers? And where is he working from? I'll get the flight plan together and - " Howard shot her a pointed look and it took a minute for her to catch on.
"Oh, Steve Rogers?"
"And there she goes. I want to check in on him, do some tests...get me a meeting with him, off the books."
"I'll need to figure out where his tour is," Em said, a slight flush creeping onto her cheeks. Howard smirked and jerked his chin to a poster pinned to an announcement board outside of the building they were headed towards. She felt a sudden jolt of recognition as she saw Steve in his regalia saluting, shield held at chest height announcing that his show was in town - a replica of that poster had hung in her own office with slightly different dates.
"Off the books," Howard reiterated before letting go of her arm and taking a few strides to catch up with Dr. Allison. He threw an arm around the physicist's shoulders and said loudly, "So tell me again - why couldn't Enrico meet me himself?"
OOO
Navigating downtown Chicago took a bit more time than she thought it would. She managed to find the Chicago Theater only to find the doors locked. Leaning against the wall, Em pulled out her hat pin and pulled the red Cartwheel hat - a present from Howard - from her head and held it by the brim as she retrieved a handkerchief from her clutch. Dabbing the sweat from her forehead and neck, she glanced around, eyes finally landing on the ticket booth. Swiping a sweaty strand of hair behind her ear, she put herself in order before approaching.
"Can I help you, Ma'am?" the young African-American woman asked.
"Yes," Em smiled. "I have a lunch date with Steve Rogers, and I can't seem to find a way into the building."
The woman smiled, the newspaper at her wrist fluttering in the wake of the electric fan. "You're the third one today to try that story, Ma'am."
Emily shook her head and smoothed down her dress. "I can't really say I'm surprised, I mean," she tilted her head towards Steve's poster. The woman chuckled slightly.
"Would you like a ticket for this afternoon's show? It's only thirty-five cents."
"I'll take two for this evening's showing. Would you - "
"Emily?"
She turned to see who had called her and smiled. "Martin! How are you?"
"Busy. What are you doing in Chicago?"
"I'm here with Mr. Stark. You?"
"Rogers - Brandt made me his tour manager."
"Your tickets, Ma'am," the woman interrupted, pushing the stubs towards her. "And change."
"You don't have to pay for those," Martin said, gesturing to the woman to give back the seventy cents. "You'll be our guest."
"It's for the war effort, Mr. Stark will be more than happy to pay."
"True. Are you free for lunch?"
"I am. Any chance of sneaking an early peek?" she asked, nodding towards the double doors.
"After - the crew is unloading the props and things are a mess backstage."
"Alright," Em sighed.
"I promise you'll get a chance to see your guy," Martin teased before taking her hand and putting it in the crook of his elbow, "only he's out at lunch too."
OOO
Lunch had been a fun affair - even having not really known Martin for very long (although she had memories of working with him for about a year), he was an interesting guy who knew how to tell a story or two. They'd exchanged tales of their respective employers and their quirks, and he'd dropped a few hints to say that her replacement wasn't exactly stacking up in the secretarial position but it was pretty clear that it hadn't been her looks that made Brandt hire her. For her part, Em did her best to assure him that Howard wasn't as much of a playboy as the press made him out to be though Martin didn't seem open to believing her.
After they'd finished eating, they'd walked back to the theater and Martin took her inside to show her around. They had just made it to the main floor when there was a burst of feminine laughter and the clattering of heels as the USO dancers took the stage. They weren't in costume but looked around where they would be performing, a few taking a spot and muttering under their breath as they did a few steps.
Emily smiled as Steve emerged from off stage, being pulled along by one of the dancers. He was smiling and laughing along with something she'd said.
"Hey Rogers!" Martin called, raising an eyebrow at Em and crossing his arms over his chest. Steve turned to look at him, eyes shooting to her right away. "Ya got a visitor."
It took a minute for her brain to process the image of Steve leaping off the stage and charging up the aisle towards her, and by the time it did his arms were wrapped around her waist, tugging her into him. There was a grin on his face when he pulled away only to swoop in and kiss her; Em wrapped one arm around his neck and clapped the other to her head to keep her hat from being knocked askew.
"What're you doing here?" Steve asked, ignoring the "aww"s and cat calls of the other dancers (Em thought she heard a few sad sighs as well). His hands lingered for a moment before he took a step backward and looked her over. Em reached up and pulled out her hat pin and took off her hat, her efforts to keep it straight having failed, before smiling and reaching up to wipe her lipstick from his mouth.
"I'm here with Howard," she said.
"How long?"
"We're just here for the day." Steve's eyes shot from her to Martin.
"We've got a full day. Two shows and dinner with the Mayor," Martin supplied. "Wish you'd'a told us you were coming, Em. We could'a gotten some time on the schedule."
"It was a last minute addition," Emily sighed.
"Any chance you'd want to go to the Mayor's with us?" Steve asked, a hint of hope creeping into his voice as he reached to squeeze her hand.
"Howard and I have dinner plans as well," she sighed, but quickly added, "But we're coming to the show."
Rather than being reassuring, Steve grimaced slightly. "Swell."
"Speaking of," Martin interjected, "we should probably get ready for that."
"I should get Howard," Em sighed, not really looking forward to the task of dragging her boss away from his work. She squeezed Steve's hand reassuringly when it twitched in hers. "We'll stay after the show and chat. And tonight we can do after dinner drinks."
"Alright," Steve replied, smiling slightly. "Just make sure to find me when you get back." He tugged her hand slightly, pulling her close enough to press a fleeting kiss to her lips.
"I will," she assured him. "Break a leg!"
OOO
"Howard!" Em hissed, elbowing him. He jerked upright, rubbing his ribs and glaring at her.
"What?" he hissed back.
"You were snoring," she replied, settling back into her own seat.
"Well, it's not the most intellectually stimulating piece of theater I've seen. Besides, you shouldn't be complaining about me getting a bit of shut eye - you want your pilot well rested before a flight."
"You'll have plenty of time to sleep tonight," she whispered back. Howard settled back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he muttered something under his breath about who was actually in charge.
Unlike her boss, Em was thoroughly enjoying the show. Reading and hearing Steve talk about his time with the USO was completely different than sitting in the audience and actually seeing it. When the song "Star Spangled Man with a Plan" started, she was able to hum along, having heard Steve do it about a million times when it became stuck in his head. And, after he initially scanned the crowd to find them, he sank right back into his role as Captain America, giving Em a chance to marvel at the stage persona that he so disliked. But hearing the kids yell and cheer when he knocked out "Hitler" was satisfying and made her smile.
When the performance ended, she applauded with the others as the house lights came up. Howard quickly put on his hat, pulling it low over his eyes in an attempt to hide his face, and stood. As they waited for a majority of the patrons to file out, Em took the opportunity to put her hat back on and check her lipstick in her compact. Howard snorted and elbowed her gently before waggling an eyebrow. "Remember, if you want to be left alone tonight, leave your stockings over the door knob."
"Like I'd leave these out to be snapped up," she smirked, glancing down at her nylons. With the price of a single pair skyrocketing due to the nylon shortage because of the war effort, stockings were a hot commodity.
As they walked towards the stage, Steve stepped out as they neared, an embarrassed grin on his face. "What'd you think?"
"You were amazing!" Em smiled; her grin widened when he flushed slightly. It was on the tip of her tongue to say that it would never outdo the image of him reciting some of his lines in his boxers, hands on his hips, at the end of their bed in an attempt to distract her from work, but it was a close second.
"Neat trick with the motorcycle," Howard added. "Couldn't even see the wires."
"There's no wires," Steve replied. "I mean, the girls have some - just in case - but there's none on the motorcycle."
"Hmm," Howard said, stroking his chin and looking at the other man appraisingly. "That's gotta be a couple hundred pounds - not including the girls. With 'em, probably around 900…"
"Don't let them hear you talking like that," Steve chuckled, glancing off stage. "Martin's already got them worried about their waists."
"Men," Em huffed, rolling her eyes.
Howard waved off the remarks and refocused the conversation. "You didn't seem to have any problem lifting that weight. Have you tried to heft anything bigger?"
"No," he replied, eyes darting to meet Emily's before he raised an eyebrow. "That why you're here? To figure out how much I can do?"
"It's part of it," Howard shrugged. "I'm also here for SSR business. Not to mention that one's been glum since you left and this is her birthday present."
"My birthday was in March," Emily blushed while rolling her eyes.
Howard waved away her comment and eyed the steps to the side of the stage where they could just hear the USO girls laughing. "I'll let you two get reaquainted. Rogers, drinks at our hotel tonight? Em'll give you the address."
Without another word, he made his way backstage. Steve huffed and looked as though he were going to go after him but turned to look at Emily. "They can handle themselves," he shrugged, reaching out a hand for her. When she took it, he hauled her onto the stage and pulled her close to him. "Hi."
"Hi," she smiled. He grinned before leaning down to kiss her. When they broke apart, he led her backstage and into a flurry of chaos. Stage hands were rushing while the chorus girls changed; they could hear Howard's voice amongst the crowd. People called out to Steve, others merely looking at them curiously, but he ignored them and towed her towards his dressing room.
Once she was inside, he closed the door and turned to smile at her. "Last place we went, I had a curtain over a clothesline to change behind."
"Definitely an upgrade," she nodded, looking around and tapping her envelope purse against her thigh. He smiled and tossed his mask onto the vanity before pulling her close again.
"You didn't say you were here with Stark to do some tests on me," he sighed, twirling a lock of hair her that had escaped her bun.
"Well, we haven't exactly had any time alone," she replied, frowning slightly. For some reason she was fixated on the texture of his outfit. It felt odd to see this earliest version of his uniform and to feel cotton on her fingertips rather than the bumpy, rough texture he usually sported.
"Emily."
"I was going to tell you," she said. "It's just...Brandt's been pretty stingy about who gets to see you. And honestly, I had no idea you were here until this morning so it's not like I could have written you about it."
He sighed and leaned down to kiss her. "I guess if it gets me some time with you."
"Besides, I think it's more observations than tests." Steve huffed a laugh which turned into a groan when there was a knock at the door.
"Need you out here for photos, Rogers!" Martin called.
Steve rested his forehead against hers. "Wait for me?"
"I'll be right here." With a quick peck on her cheek, he dashed out of the room.
Left alone, Em sat on the stool in front of the vanity and stared at her own reflection. She took the opportunity to fix her hair, careful to catch every strand of hair in her bun. After fixing her lipstick and powdering her nose, Em was officially out of things to do.
Looking around the room, her eyes fell on an envelope with her own writing on it. Smiling, she stood and reached for the book that it was serving as a bookmark for - Hemmingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls - and lifted it from the bag. Behind it was another book without a title that she decided to grab as well. Back at the vanity, she marked Steve's page with her hat pin before opening her letter. It was well worn and clearly read often given the ease at which it folded and the faded ink, almost as though he'd run his fingers over her words. It was one of their first letters, written not long after he'd gone to California. She quickly reread it, smiling at her wistful remembrance of their time on the National Mall and bemoaning her lack of a lunch mate. At the very end of the page, her farewell - 'Yours, Emily' - had been early scrubbed from the paper.
Feeling slightly teary at this, Em refolded the letter and slipped it back into the book before picking up the second book. A pencil rolled out of it when she opened the cover. With a thrill of excitement - and a moment's hesitation at invading Steve's privacy - she realized that it was his sketchbook. She hesitated for a moment, waffling between looking and putting it back, before turning the page.
Scenes from New York dominated the first few pages. She grinned when she saw Bucky make an appearance or two. With a moment's surprise, she noticed her own face on the page; it wasn't an exactly likeness but just enough to recognize herself. In the sketch, she was holding her makeup compact in one hand and handkerchief in the other; if she wasn't mistaken, it was from their first meeting at the Stark Expo.
Her face was in better detail in the later sketches of herself that she found. He seemed to draw her with her glasses a lot, taking notes in a meeting or typing up a memo. In the ones that she wasn't wearing the glasses, he often made small indents on her nose as though she'd just taken them off. Tear sprang to her eyes at this; her Steve had remarked that - while she was beautiful all the time - there was just something about seeing her wear her glasses that he loved.
Wiping at an escaped tear, Em closed the book and hugged it tightly. "Je t'aime, mon coeur. Toujours."
OOO
Steve jerked awake as the car slowed. Natasha had insisted on driving for a few hours and, if he was honest with himself, he'd given in so easily because he needed some shut eye. They'd been speeding back to Virginia from Jersey all night.
"Pleasant dreams?" Nat asked.
"If you think drones are pleasant."
"Depends on the circumstance," she shrugged. After a long moment's pause, she added, "You sure we can trust this guy?"
"Even if I wasn't, things can't get much worse."
"True."
OOO
"How long can you run?"
"How long could you carry Emily around?"
"Erskine thought you'd have a higher metabolism. Do you get hungrier a lot sooner?"
"What about stamina?" Howard asked after two hours of rapid questioning and tests of Steve's abilities (one included having Emily stand across the room and whisper while holding a hand over her mouth to see if he could hear what she said).
"I can run and carry stuff for a long time…" Steve sighed, wiping a hand down his face. He'd taken off his dress uniform jacket and tie, and was in the process of rolling up his sleeves when Howard chuckled.
"Not exactly the stamina I was talking about."
Emily's pencil paused over her notebook as she glanced up to see Steve blushing and shooting a glance at her. "Don't know."
"Not even a visit from Jill?" Howard smirked.
"No," Steve snapped before clearing his throat and glancing at her again.
"How about I get us some more rum?" Emily asked as she stood.
"See if they've got Scotch," Howard said, swirling the last bit of rum in his glass before downing it in a single gulp.
"Behave yourself while I'm gone," Em ordered.
By the time she'd gotten back from the bar (It had taken a bit longer because the bartender had been unwilling to give her the bottle, afraid of encouraging loose moral behavior), Howard was wrapping up his questions. Em quickly poured them all another drink and settled back into her chair, sipping her watered down rum and jotting notes.
"I think that's about it for now," Howard finally said. "I'd like to do something like this every few months if possible, just to make sure nothing's changed and to track the results. Erskine'd planned on weekly evaluations but…"
"Right," Steve nodded.
"The more you can do to test yourself, the better. If we ever figure out what Abraham's formula was, we want to know what we're dealing with." Howard paused for a minute before adding, "Great man, Abe."
The three sat in silence, ruminating on the man who had brought them all together.
"I think it might be time to turn in," Emily said finally. "We're supposed to be at the airfield early."
"Right," Howard nodded, standing and rapping his knuckles on the table. Steve stood as well and reached to shake the other man's hand.
"It was nice seeing you again, Mr. Stark."
"Same. Would you mind waiting outside while I have a quick word with Em?"
"Of course," Steve said, grabbing his jacket, tie, hat, and belt.
When they were alone, Howard turned to look at her and grinned. "Remember, hanging your stockings on the door and I won't bother you."
"Really?" Em huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes.
"If you're worried about them getting stolen, his tie will work just as well."
"Goodnight Howard. Remember, I'm coming to wake you up at 7."
"You sure you don't want to push it back until 9?"
"I'll see you at 7."
"It's your patriotic duty, Harthorn! Do your part for scientific advancement!"
"You're ridiculous. No more drinking for you," she added, grabbing the bottle of rum. "Goodnight Howard."
"Goodnight Emily."
Steve was blushing slightly and his lips were pressed into a tight line to keep from laughing when she stepped into the hallway.
"I'm assuming you heard that?" Emily asked.
"Patriotic duty, huh?"
"Well, I'm nothing if not a patriot," she smiled, teeth biting into her lower lip. "Do you have some time or do you have to get back?"
"I've got all the time in the world for you, doll."
"What a line, you sap," she laughed before tangling her fingers with him and leading him to her room. He took the bottle of rum while she fumbled with the lock, slightly distracted by how close he was standing.
When the door opened, they dodged inside and Em barely had time to shut it behind them before his lips were on hers. The rum made a dull thud as it fell to the carpet; Steve's now free hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against him. "God, I missed you."
"I missed you too, mon coeur." Steve smiled and kissed her again before retrieving the rum and waving for her to lead the way into her room. Em smirked and stepped into the large room, making her way to the vanity as Steve beelined for the glasses and ice the hotel staff had brought in during her absence to make them another drink.
Emily toed off her heels, took out her earrings, and was in the process of taking out her hair pins when she noticed Steve watching her in the mirror. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked away and fiddled with the radio instead. Her hair curled over her shoulders as the last of the pins were removed, just as the static crackling turned into a man's voice crooning about his devotion. With a sigh, she reached under her dress for her clasp of her garter only to hear a slight choking noise. She looked up just in time to see Steve wiping away a bit of rum that had fallen on his shirt.
"Are you alright, Captain?" she teased.
"Fi-" he paused to clear his throat. "Fine." Em nodded and undid the remaining claps before sitting on the vanity stool and rolling them down her legs. She could feel Steve's eyes following her every move. Stockings in hand, she walked over to him and took the glass he held out to her.
"Thanks," she said before reaching for the jacket and tie he'd thrown over the back of a chair. Em draped it over her arm and walked back towards the door where a coat rack sat. "Don't want this to get wrinkled."
"Nope," he nodded, eyes on the stockings in her other hand. Em chuckled and shook her head.
"Like I told Howard, these are too precious to waste." She stepped into the bathroom and draped them over the sink to wash in the morning or at their next stop.
"My tie's not," Steve blurted when she came out. Emily's eyebrows shot up, which made Steve flush. "I mean, not that I'm - only if you want…" He watched as she hung up the jacket and tie, shoulders slumping. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, Emily. It's just -"
"I am not putting a tie on the door just because Howard Stark think's it's funny to threaten interrupting us. Locks exist for a reason."
"Oh."
Emily smiled and walked back to him, sipping her rum and shaking her head. When she got close enough, Steve wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted the glass from her hand. His cool fingers wrapped around hers as he started to sway to the song. Closing her eyes, Em rested her head on his shoulder.
"You sure?" Steve asked as the song ended.
"Only if you are."
"I, uh, haven't done it before."
"That's okay."
"I don't have anything...a rubber, I mean."
"Some poster boy for prophylaxis," she teased. Steve started to pull away but she pulled him back and stood on her toes to kiss him. "It's fine."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure." She tangled their fingers and led him to the bed.
"Emily?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Notes: After the US entered the war, there were huge shortages for stockings. At one point the price skyrocketed to $10 a pair, which is about $170 today. The alcohol industry across the world was also hit hard with rationing. In the US, grain alcohol companies turned towards making fuel for the military (if you want an interesting/short read, look up torpedo juice). While rum was originally the drink of sailors and other rogues, Roosevelt's Good Neighbor policy (non-intervention and non-interference, as well as reciprocal trade agreements with Latin America) made rum more available to the general public.
On a personal note, thank you to everyone who wrote me about the hiatus. After I wrote that, things got worse when my dad was diagnosed with cancer. Thankfully it is a very curable type and he feels better after his initial surgery; he starts chemo in 2 weeks. But I do have happy news - I've moved back to the university where I completed my undergrad/first Master's and took up my old job that I loved. I'm finishing up a Master's at the other university and then will just work on taking classes that I enjoy (after finishing an Emergency Management Certificate). It's nice being back because I'm only 2 hours from my parents and actually enjoy going to work. Oh, and I have a new nephew on the way! So things are looking up. Again, thank you all for being so understanding. I'm using writing as self care to handle my depression/anxiety so - hopefully - I'll be able to update regularly.