I had the craziest dream last night, yes I did.
I never dreamt it could be
Yet there you were, in love with me.
I found your lips close to mine so I kissed you
And you didn't mind it at all.
When I'm awake such a break never happens.
How long can a gal go on dreaming?

I Had the Craziest Dream by Harry James and his Orchestra with Helen Forrest

Emily woke to Steve's phone going off. He'd heard it too; he groaned softly, the arm he'd wrapped around her withdrawing as he rolled onto his back. She sighed and rolled to follow him, pressing her forehead to his back as he turned on the bedside lamp.

"Do you want me to answer your call?" he asked. "It could be Stark…"

"Why would Tony be calling?" she grumbled before reluctantly opening her eyes and pushing herself up. Her vision was still fuzzy from sleep and not wearing her glasses, but it was enough to make her realize that she was in a hotel room, not her own apartment. "Oh."

"Tony?"

"I'll get it," Em said, swallowing around the lump in her throat. As she leaned over him and picked up the phone from the receiver, she let her hair fall into her face to hide her disappointment. "Hello?"

"I apologize for the late call, Miss Harthorn," the man on the line said. "But there's a man in the lobby who insisted on speaking to you."

"A man wants to speak to me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Who?"

"A Mr. Martin Akers."

"Oh. That's fine, I'll speak to him." There was a moment of silence before a worried voice came over the line.

"Em? It's Martin. Please tell me you know where he is."

"Hi Martin," she said, feeling Steve tense under her. She looked over at him and widened her eyes, motioning to the phone. "Where who is?"

"You really gonna make me say it?" Martin huffed before he lowered his voice. "There's an awful lot of newspaper gossips here hopin' to see what Stark's up to. Imagine what they'd do if they see America's newest movie star sneakin' out instead."

Steve, who had obviously overheard this motioned for her to hand him the receiver. "What d'ya want, Martin?"

Emily took the opportunity to move back to her side of the bed, slipping her glasses on and frowning as she looked around the room. It turned into a sad smile as Steve reached over and trailed his fingers down her spine; when she looked over her shoulder at him, he smirked and rolled his eyes.

"Fine, I'll see you in a minute...fourth floor. Right," he said before returning the phone to its cradle. Huffing, he turned to her and gently pulled her until she was close enough to kiss. "Sorry."

"What for?" she asked

"For...you know," he motioned behind him to the phone. "Him knowin' I'm here."

"Wasn't too much of a logical leap," she shrugged, pushing his hair from his face.

"Still," Steve shrugged before placing a kiss on her shoulder. With a sigh, he got out of bed and grabbed his shorts from the floor, tugging them on before turning to face her again. "I'll go meet him in the hall."

"Alright," Em replied, openly admiring him as he gathered his clothes and tugged them on. When he stepped out into the hall she laid back on the pillows and flung an arm over her head, thinking over what had just happened.

She wasn't sure if she should feel guilty, even as she reveled in being deliciously sore. Part of her knew that she should have felt terrible about taking this massive step between Steve and Peggy, and another part of her wondered if it might be considered cheating on her own Steve. If she had actually traveled back in time, it wouldn't be cheating, right? It would just be starting their relationship early…

Huffing, she got out of bed and grabbed Steve's discarded undershirt before making her way to the bathroom. She paused slightly when she heard voices and saw that the door was ajar; Martin's voice drifted in.

"-Careful. I mean, if you wanted a girl -"

"Stop right there."

"I know, Emily's different. But you gotta think about the optics now. People know who you are. You're suppose t'a be the guy who the guys want to be, the son every parent wants, and the fella every girl wants to be with."

"Brandt give you that?"

"No," Martin said quickly. "I'm just sayin'..."

"Got it. I'll be back at the hotel in time to catch the bus, don't worry about it."

Martin started to say something but apparently Steve had heard enough. Emily ducked into the bathroom when she heard his heavy footsteps on the carpeted floor, just managing to get the door closed when Steve pushed back into the room. She could hear him muttering under his breath angrily, before he called out for her.

"Just a minute!" she answered. Em took a minute to turn on the faucet and splash some water on her face before going back out. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," he said, pushing off the chair where he'd draped his spare uniform that Martin had so thoughtfully brought for him, and walking towards her. "Couldn't be better."

When he kissed her, it was a bit rougher than before but Emily wasn't going to complain.

OOO

Steve splashed water on his wrists to try and get some of the smoke smudges off, eyeing the shower behind him in the mirror. It was so tempting...taking a few minutes to shower would help him wake up and would help to loosen his tense muscles. It would be just a few minutes alone with his thoughts…He was sure Sam wouldn't mind.

But then he saw Natasha staring blankly at the wall. Grabbing the hand towel, he stepped out of the bathroom. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied trying to dry her hair. He tossed the towel back onto the counter behind him and moved across the room to sit on the bed across from her.

"What's going on?"

"When I first joined SHIELD I thought I was going straight," she said after a moment. "But I guess I just traded in the KGB for Hydra."

OOO

After Chicago, Howard flew them to top secret military sites across the country; they went to Tennessee, Oregon, Iowa, Missouri, Alabama, and West Virginia to name a few. Between stops at military facilities in California and a tour of one of his factories that built planes for the war effort, Howard diverted them to look at some property in Malibu that he was considering buying even with the threat of Japanese patrol boats lurking off the coast. Vibrating with excitement over purchasing the land Emily knew would be Tony's future mansion, Howard flew them to New Mexico where they met up with Oppenheimer again; when the two geniuses got into an argument about the physics calculations, Emily chose to sit outside and read a letter from Steve.

Getting regular correspondence had become more difficult as both of their travels had increased. Since their stolen night in Chicago, they'd only been able to speak on the phone twice. Letters often took weeks to arrive as they were rerouted numerous times, with multiple often appearing at once when they finally caught up. Steve always started his letters: "Dear Emily, I hope things are well with you, things on tour haven't changed much." From his tone, Em gathered that he was getting bored with the constant shows and more angry about his role as a poster boy when he'd signed up to be more than a propaganda tool.

For her part, Em tried to sooth him, reassuring him that she knew that his time would come if he was patient. Her letters had to be much more careful, as they had to pass inspection by the Office of Censorship due to her proximity to the Manhattan Project. She'd glimpsed at a letter she'd written in Morgantown, West Virginia after it had passed through the censors and saw that they'd blacked out a comment about the weather and how her calves were killing her due to the afternoon walks in heels throughout the hilly town that Howard wanted to do because the fresh mountain air cleared his head (this was to say nothing of the numerous cigarettes he smoked during their stroll).

It was during a stop in DC that Emily first learned that they were headed overseas. "Gotta check out the Canadian's hydro plants and then we're headed to merry ol' England," Howard said as he flipped through a report from the factory about the number of planes that had been produced that month.

"England?" Emily asked

"Tell Smyth that I want us getting at least 12 planes off the line every day - 9 isn't going to cut it anymore," he sighed, snapping the report shut and handing it back to her. Em made a note on it before looking expectantly at Howard.

"I told you that, didn't I? They've apparently requested my expertise to look over a few things they've recovered from the Nazis," he shrugged while leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of rum.

"I haven't seen any requests," she said, raising an eyebrow at him, "and I'm pretty sure those would have come to me."

"Well, it wasn't so much a request to come as it was one to look over some reports on advanced technology. But you know, Harthorn, can't trust what others say something is without looking it over in person."

"I'm sure," she chuckled.

"Anyways, we're stuck here for a few days while the plane gets some repairs - don't want to be going across the Atlantic with anything but a perfectly operating machine."

"Alright, should I try and get appointments with anyone while we're here?"

"No, I'm going to spend my free time relaxing and recovering from all of our travels."

"So should I get the bribe money ready to keep the staff quiet about your visitor?" Emily asked, smiling pleasantly at her boss.

"And what are you implying, Miss Harthorn?" Howard shot back, a playful look in his eyes.

"Oh nothing. Just that I'll make sure that you're not disturbed. My friend Dot is still in town, so I'll probably go see her while we're here in case you need some -"

"I actually thought you would go to New York," he said. "Private Rogers is due for some more tests, and since you helped with them last time, you're qualified to do them."

"Steve is in New York?" she asked before laughing. "Should I be worried that you keep better tabs on my boyfriend than I do?"

"Brandt's new secretary is very chatty and helpful. This is a work trip, Harthorn, and I expect you to act like it."

"I'll go book my ticket, then," she smiled.

"Already done." Howard smirked. "Like I said, she's helpful."

OOO

Not only had Brandt's secretary booked her ticket, she'd also reserved Emily a room in the same hotel Steve and his tour was staying.

Em had called ahead to the hotel and left a message for Steve to let him know she was coming before packing her bag and confirming that Howard would be fine for the three days she would be away. He drove her to the train station and, with a peck on the cheek, told her to be safe and do her part to raise the Steve's morale.

Steve met her in the hotel lobby with a grin and a friendly kiss on the cheek. She gave him a look before he grabbed her bag and ushered her towards the front desk to check in. Once firmly enclosed in her room, he dropped the bag and pulled her flush against him, his lips pressing firmly against hers while one hand buried in her hair.

"God I missed you," he said when they broke apart.

"Couldn't tell from your welcome downstairs," she teased.

"Well," Steve sighed, taking a small step back and rubbing the back of his neck; Emily beamed at that familiar sign of discomfort. "Martin may have given me a lecture about appearances when he found out you were coming."

"Ah," she said, taking another step backwards and giving him a teasing smile. "Well then, Private Rogers, thank you for carrying my bag up - that'll be all for tonight. Tomorrow we'll start the tests Mr. Stark reques -" Em let out a shriek of laughter as Steve grinned wolfishly at her and charged towards her, sweeping her off of her feet and walking towards the bed.

They lay in bed after their amorous reunion, listening to the radio as Steve twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers, his eyes mostly closed as he fought sleep. Smiling, Em rested her chin on his chest and reached up to move his fringe from his eyes before kissing the tip of his nose. "Why don't you sleep?"

"Don't want to waste the time." She chuckled when he pulled her closer, shifting his attention to stroking the small of her back.

"Go to sleep, mon coeur, I'll be here when you wake up."

They were quiet after that, just listening to Harry James and his Orchestra play 'I Had the Craziest Dream'. Eventually his breathing evened out as he fell asleep and Em rolled onto her back and flung an arm over her head, Steve's arm heavy on her waist and his breath hot on her shoulder. It had been a hot day and Steve was always warm to sleep next to, so - even with the air conditioner rattling in the window - the room was balmy, teetering towards uncomfortably warm.

Carefully, Em lifted Steve's arm and slipped out of bed, moving silently across the room to stand in front of the air conditioner. Goosebumps broke out across her skin as she lifted her hair off her damp neck. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her mind drift as she listened to the radio over the muted sounds of the city. Lulled into a bit of a stupor, Emily swayed as she felt herself being pulled towards the heaviness of sleep.

"Emily, please come back...God, I miss you...You've got to come back. We're going to find a way to get you back."

Slowly, Em opened her heavy eyes and blinked when she saw Carter's reflection in the window. She frowned at his solemn expression and the dark circles under his eyes. She felt light headed, and simultaneously heavy limbed and tingly.

"Carter," she whispered, lifting her hand to touch him. For a moment, it felt like she was teetering on an edge and Em flung out her other hand to steady herself.

He started and looked around, "Em?"

"Cart!"

"Where are you?" he demanded.

"I'm here!" she hissed, reaching out to touch him.

Her fingers touched the cool glass as Steve grunted and shifted in the bed, reaching for her; startled, he sat up. "Sweetheart?"

Emily swiped away her tears and forced a smile before turning to him. "I'm here," she said, "I'm still here."

Author's Note: Short chapter as I'm trying to get back in the swing of writing. For those of you who don't follow me on Tumblr, I haven't been writing a lot because of personal issues (depression, anxiety, death in the family, etc.). Please, please bear with me as I try to work through all of this. The story is pretty much all planned out and I just need to get over the mental block of writing it. Anyways, thank you as always for being patient with me.

On a historical note, at its peak in WWII, Boeing's Seattle plant was turning out 16 B-17s a day.