You've got to laugh a little, cry a little
Until the clouds roll by a little
That's the story of, that's the glory of love

As long as there's the two of us

We've got the world and all it's charms

And when the world is through with us

We've got each other's arms

The Glory of Love by Benny Goodman and Helen Ward

The world spun behind her closed eyes and Emily flexed her fingers to try and ground herself. Her whole body ached. There was a sudden shifting and the warmth that surrounded her left hand was gone as the world tilted that way. Gasping, she flung out her arm to stop from falling, eyes shooting open to see Steve's pale face as he sat on the bed beside her.

She blinked a few times, trying to bring her eyes into focus, hoping against hope that just one more would make what she was seeing change. But it stayed the same - she was in her room in Howard's London house, still stuck in 1944.

"Emily," Steve croaked, his blue eyes wide with shock.

"No," she groaned. "No, damn it, no! Fuck!" When she moved to sit up, Steve reached to help her but she stopped short when a stabbing pain ripped through her right side. Groaning, she curled into a ball, gripping her lower stomach. She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her and her face flushed with sudden heat. Through grit teeth, she said "fuck" over and over again. She could hear Steve asking what he could do and then he was gone, running from the room without a backward glance and returning a less than two minutes later.

"Here we go," he said softly, kneeling beside her on the bed. He moved away her hand and replaced it with a dish towel full of ice, ignoring her whimper as the cold sank through her clothes and attacked the inflamed skin. He dug a handkerchief from his pocket and tilted her head up to wipe her upper lip; Em was only slightly surprised to see the cloth red with blood before he folded it and pressed it back against her nose. "Pinch that and lean forward. I'm going to sit you up now, Sweetheart. Alright?" Without waiting for her response, he wormed a hand under her and shifted her to lie against the headboard, grimacing at the cry of pain she let out. "Take this, it'll help," he said, retrieving a glass of water and bottle of aspirin from the bedside table.

Steve seemed unsure of what to do as Em clutched the bedspread, tapping her foot and holding her breath with every wave of pain. "Should I… should we go to the hospital?" he asked finally.

"No," she replied thickly, bringing her knees up to rest her forehead on them and forcing the ice pack more firmly against her stomach. "Can't do much about an ovary popping out of existence."

"Is that what… Emily what was that?" Steve demanded.

Em forced herself to look up, her eyes swimming with tears. "That was the closest I've come to getting home."

His eyes widened as they made a circuit from her to the wardrobe mirror and back. "You were… it's true?" She bit her lip and ducked her head, groaning at a particularly violent spasm.

Steve moved closer, hand lifted as if to touch her before he stopped, unsure of how welcome it would be. Seeing this, she reached for him and clutched his hand, her nails digging into his palm. "Is this because you were," he swallowed hard, "from when you were shot?"

"Yeah," Em said, pulling the bloody handkerchief from her face and examining it. "The bullet nicked my ovary so it had to be removed." He was silent for a long moment.

"Was I with you when it happened? Or were you alone?"

"I-I wasn't alone."

"But I wasn't there."

"You were a bit busy," she replied, hearing the undercurrent of anger in his voice. When she looked at him, she could see the question in his gaze but shook her head. "We've had this fight before, mon coeur. There wasn't...you couldn't have done anything about it. You didn't even know I was there."

"But we were - are - together? Where you're from…" he asked. She squeezed his hand tightly and nodded. "I don't… I don't understand how. Are we old together? Do you stay here, with me?"

Emily felt tears spring to her eyes and she reached up to cup his face before kissing him. He hesitated for a moment before his hands settled gently on her waist. When they broke away, Em ran her hand through his damp hair, shook her head, and gave him a watery smile. "No, babe. We're not old together. We're just starting out."

"How?" She bit her lip and looked away, wondering how much - if anything - she could say. "Emily please."

"There," Em said after a moment. "There was an accident. And it brought you to my time."

"An accident like yours? Like...that?" he asked, nodding towards the wardrobe.

"No. Not like that," she replied, following his gaze. "Did see Jane?"

"I… I don't know what I saw. But I heard people."

"From outside?" Em asked, frowning as she took him in. His olive coat was dark with rain and clung to his shoulders as his hair dripped on the collar of his shirt.

"No. I, uh, forgot my hat and came back for it. I knocked but you didn't…And then I heard the voices and was afraid that someone was here again." Steve lowered his eyes to focus on the ice pack and shook his head. He looked so tired. "I'm sorry. If I hadn't stopped you, you would have been home already."

Emily sighed and set aside the ice pack and handkerchief, then grimaced as she shifted to kneel beside him. She felt slightly lightheaded as she forced him to look at her and she must have swayed slightly because his hands settled on her hips, careful to avoid her scar. "Listen to me, Steven Grant Rogers. This wasn't the first time I've felt them getting close, and if I know Jane and Tony, it sure as hell won't be the last. Those two aren't going to stop until I get back home to you. So for right now… for right now," she said, pausing to wipe her eyes on her shoulder, "as long as you don't think I'm crazy, I'm happy with being here with you, and to be here for you."

Steve's hand migrated up to cup the back of her neck as she kissed him. "I love you," he said, when they broke apart.

"I love you too." Em stroked back the hair from his face and smiled. "Come on, let's get out of these wet clothes."

"Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me, Emily Rose Harthorn."

"I can't Steve," she said, feeling her heart ache. "I told you last time - it'll change too much."

"You being here is changing everything," he countered. "What's one more thing?"

"Steve…"

"I'm an idiot for not marrying you already - "

"We've only been together a year - "

"I swear I won't say anything, unless you tell me first."

"It would be too big of a secret to keep."

"What if I already am, Emily?" he said, his eyes searching hers. "What if we are married and I just haven't said anything?"

"We're not, Steve. There's… my being here changed it… you were with someone else. I took that from you both." She lifted her hand to push his hair from his face. "I'm sorry."

"I don't care," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "I don't care because that person isn't you."

"Steve…"

"Please Emily. We don't know," Steve paused, "we don't know how long you're going to be here. It's already been a year… This way, we'll have each other no matter what time we're in."

They stared at one another. Finally, Emily said, "You have me already, Steve. In all the ways that matter."

"This matters to me."

OOO

Jane and Tony stared at the empty space where the rift had been seconds before. "J," he said, voice catching in his throat. "Start running diagnostics… figure out what the hell that was and pull up the footage."

"That… was that…" Jane asked, running a hand through her hair and making it stand up. "Oh my god."

A holographic screen appeared in front of the two scientists and they leaned forward to study the video that Jarvis had recorded. Emily's disembodied voice echoed through the lab but Tony motioned for it to speed up until the woman appeared in front of them. "Stop!" he ordered, freezing the frame where she first appeared. It was blurry, but as Jarvis slowly advanced the footage, her image became clearer.

Jane clapped a hand to her mouth and breathed a sigh of relief, "She's alive."

"What the hell is she wearing?" Tony muttered.

"Who's that behind her?" Jane asked as a green blur appeared in the back of the frame. As the scene advanced, the face came into focus as the man grabbed Emily's arm.

The slow motion "No!" was echoed by both Jane and Tony as they recognized Steve.

OOO

The Howling Commandos were sent back to continental Europe in August to assist in the final push towards Paris, joining the Free French 2nd Armored and the US 4th Infantry Divisions. Eisenhower had declared Paris was too important - culturally and historically - to risk its destruction, and he wanted them to do what they could to speed it up and prevent ruin.

The Office of War Information had wanted the propaganda shots of Captain America striding into the city, the savior of the French people.

Before he left, Steve had taken Emily to Hyde Park and, on one knee, presented her with a silver ring with a solitaire diamond. They'd spent the night on the town celebrating their engagement with their friends, dancing and drinking until the nightclub closed before returning to his hotel where they celebrated privately.

While Steve was on the continent, Em had found herself in the midst of a series of negotiations with the US government.

As a soldier posted overseas, Steve had been required to ask Colonel Phillips permission to get married - which had quickly been granted with a hearty congratulations - and news of their engagement had reached Washington. Emily had been in the midst of transcribing Howard's latest mandate to the stateside manager of Stark Industries when she'd been summoned to the telephone room to accept a transatlantic call from her former boss Senator Brandt. The man quickly said his congratulations and spent nearly five minutes boasting about how he had brought the two of them together - "Who would have thought something like this would have come out of Brooklyn!" - before getting to the actual point of his call.

The OWI wanted to film their wedding and feature it in a newsreel. They wanted to show the country a triumphant Captain America returning after liberating Paris to marry his American sweetheart in London. "What better way to boost the American morale than to let them know that Captain America had found his Mrs. America in the midst of war?" Brandt had exclaimed.

Emily had been against it for numerous reasons. The most important was the fact that she wanted their wedding to be their own, not for some propaganda tool - she was marrying Steve Rogers, not Captain America. She hadn't wanted anything extravagant and - given the circumstances - Steve had agreed. They had planned to go to the local registry office with Bucky and Howard as their witnesses but Brandt and the OWI wanted to capitalize on the moment and turn it into a romantic spectacle.

However, Steve and the Army had existing agreement with the OWI so Emily hadn't had much of a choice but to agree. They had wanted a large church wedding but she had balked and negotiated with her former employer until it was a small service. Besides, she argued, wouldn't having a large wedding seem insensitive when their host country was still struggling with rationing?

Telling her family that she was getting married had been interesting. While Brandt and the OWI had been able to afford the cost of a transatlantic call, it was too exorbitant for Emily - about $75 for 15 minutes - so she'd sent a telegraph with a promise of a follow up letter through V-mail. After a long day to at the US embassy battling with the OWI over how much of the ceremony would be filmed, Emily received a reply to her letter in late September that extolled her family's love and wishes that they could be there. Steve, who had returned only the day before, had found her sitting in the hotel lobby with tears gleaming in her eyes and agreed to take over all remaining negotiations while Bucky tried to make her laugh and poured her a stiff drink. He managed to barter down to a photographer, a cameraman, and one journalist from the Life Magazine

The morning of Monday, October 6th found Emily staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror, wondering how she'd gotten there. As much as she wanted to marry Steve, this wasn't how she'd pictured it. She'd always thought that her mother would be there to help her get ready and that her father would walk her down the aisle.

Closing her eyes tightly and wiping away the rogue tears that escaped, Em took a deep breath. The wedding itself didn't matter. All that mattered was the man standing at the end of the aisle - the man that loved her and that she would spend the rest of her life with no matter what time period they were in.

With another deep breath, she opened her eyes and turned to her wardrobe. Unable to purchase a wedding dress, Emily had worked with a seamstress to alter a dress that she'd already owned. The only white dress she'd had was the sleeveless one she'd worn to Steve's show in Chicago. Some of the women in the bunker had pooled together a number of clothing ration tickets and given them to her for a wedding gift, which had allowed her to purchase lace and a few yards of tulle. The seamstress had been reluctant to take on the project when Em had explained what she wanted - and had spent quite a bit of time trying to convince her to go with something more traditional - but eventually agreed. She'd worked wonders on the tea length dress: the top had been altered to remove the straps and create a sweetheart neckline, and then overlaid with lace and new long sleeves. A bit of satin ribbon was sewn around the high waist to create a belt and bow, and the tulle had been sewn into the skirt to make it flare a bit more.

The design was decidedly 1950s, but Emily didn't care.

Howard appeared in her doorway and leaned against it while adjusting his cufflinks when Em turned to checked the line of her stockings. When she caught his eye in the mirror, he smiled and said, "Wow. You… you clean up nice, Miss Harthorn."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," she said, turning to face him and pressing a hand to her stomach as she stepped into her shoes.

"Are you ready to go?" When she nodded her assent, he pushed off the door jam and walked towards her, his hands buried in his pockets. "Isn't there some rhyme about what a bride needs on her wedding day? Some kind of list?"

Em rolled her eyes fondly. "Something old" - she motioned to her dress - "new" - she plucked at her lace sleeves - "something borrowed and blue" - she touched the earrings she'd been lent - "and a sixpence from the other secretaries" - she wiggling her shoe at him.

"You can do than an altered dress," he said. Smiling, he pulled his hand out of his pocket, revealing a double strand of pearls with a rhinestone clasp. "Your new should be something like this."

Emily laughed and ducked her head, "Thank you Howard."

"You're welcome Emily. Have to make sure my Girl Friday looks her best for Life Magazine!"

OOO

"You sure you want to do this?," Howard asked as he parked his car down the street from Marylebone Town Hall. "You're looking pretty glum - you're going to your wedding, not a funeral."

"Just nerves," she replied, trying to sound more sure than she did. He studied her for a moment before nodding and jumping out of the car, putting on his hat as he circled to open her door and help her out. Em shook out the wrinkles in her dress and took her small bouquet in hand before taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders.

Howard tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and leaned close as they strolled down the street. "Just say the word and we'll make a get away." Emily laughed and squeezed his arm as they rounded the corner and the Hall came into view.

Steve and his Commandos were standing at the foot of the steps. All were dressed in their dress service uniforms except Dernier who - as a French Resistance fighter didn't have a uniform - was one of Howard's suit that had been quickly tailored for the occasion. They seemed to be teasing him about something if his blush and the gentle punches he was receiving were anything to go by. She watched as he reached up to swipe his hair from his eyes - his tell tale nervous tick - only to realize his hat was in the way. The sight brought tears to her eyes and she smiled, happy to know that she wasn't the only one feeling the jitters.

Bucky nudged Steve and leaned over to say something to him, and then Steve's eyes shot up, searching for her. The rest of the Commandos turned as well but Em barely noticed when Steve's eyes locked on hers.

"Last chance," Howard stage whispered as Steve started walking towards her, two cameramen and the journalist in tow. When she didn't say anything, Howard smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple before letting go of her arm and stepping away from her. He clapped Steve on the shoulder as they passed on another, and then Steve was in front of her.

"Hi."

"You look…" he started before shaking his head. "Wow."

"Yeah?" she said, self-consciously reaching up to touch the curls that were already starting to fall. "I know it's not really how dresses are in this dec - "

Steve reached up to cup her cheek, his other hand pulling wrapping around her waist to draw her closer before swooping down to kiss her. She curled her hands around the lapels of his coat and parted her lips when his tongue reached out tentatively.

"Ahem."

Like guilty teenagers, they pulled apart to see the cameramen giving them a frank examination while the journalist jotted something in his notepad. "We need to get some footage for the newsreels. Would you mind walking up with Mr. Stark again, Miss Harthorn?"

"Our appointment is in fifteen minutes," Steve said, glancing at his watch.

"Won't take long," the man holding the video camera countered.

Steve looked at her and raised an eyebrow in question. Em closed her eyes and took another deep breath before leaning around him. "Howard! We need you!"

He turned quickly and raised an eyebrow before digging in his pocket and retrieving his car key, holding it up for her to see as he strolled towards her. "Quick! I've got the plane fueled and - "

Emily laughed when Steve tensed under her hands.

OOO

"We'll have a real wedding next time," Steve said quietly as they waited to enter the blue room, "make sure your family is there." They stood apart from their guests who were milling about, chatting to one another. The videographer was dancing through the crowd, trying to get shots of everyone while the photographer and reporter chatted up some of the phone operators Emily had invited.

Steve's arms were wrapped tightly around her waist as he held her against his chest. Em glanced over and saw Peggy talking with Colonel Phillips, and felt a pang of guilt. She had taken Steve from her, and she was smiling at Emily with pure happiness.

"Sweetheart?"

"You're sure about this?" she asked, pulling away slightly. "It's not too late. We can still call it off."

"Is that what you want?" He asked, trying to keep the worry from his voice.

"No - I want to marry you, Steve. I'm just…," Em sighed, burying her face in his chest. "This is going to change everything. Your military file is one of the first things I read when SHIELD hired me, and I'm going to find out that we're married before we even meet. And when we do you're going to recognize me and I'm not going to have a clue what you mean to me...you're going to be a stranger." She let out a sad chuckle and looked up at him, remembering the day they'd met and the numerous arguments after that. "Upside, you may be a bit nicer to me."

"Was I mean?" He asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

"We has our disagreements," she shrugged. "Just please promise me that you won't get mad at me when I try to help you. And don't let me drink too much when we have fondue - it'd be nice to get to know one another without a massive hangover the next day."

"I'll try," he chuckled before lowering his voice. "We'll figure it out, Sweetheart. I can make sure your name isn't in my file and I just won't say anything to you about us until you're ready."

"You think you can keep this big of a secret for that long? I can tell you from personal experience, it's not easy."

"For you? Absolutely."

"Rogers?" a man said, appearing in the hallway. "Wedding party of Rogers and Harthorn?"

"You want to do this?" she asked, feeling her stomach start to flutter as their guests started moving towards them.

"I do," Steve grinned. "You?"

"I do," Emily nodded.

OOO

Steve's hand was warm and steady as it held Em's shaking one when they stood in front of their friends. His blue eyes were gleaming with unshed tears as he cleared his throat.

"I, Steven Grant Rogers, take thee, Emily Rose Harthorn, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

Emily watched through blurry eyes as Steve slid a simple silver band onto her finger before looking up to grin at her. He reached up with his free hand to wipe away her tears.

The officiant turned to her and smiled, "Emily?"

"I, Emily Rose Harthorn, take thee, Steven Grant Rogers, to be my wedded husband," she said, smiling as his hand twitched in hers, "to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

She slid the ring onto his finger before his hand turned to grasp hers, squeezing tightly.

"Steven and Emily have made their declarations, and it gives me great pleasure to declare them husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride."

They were barely aware of the cheers and clapping of their friends as Steve pulled her close and kissed her, his hands cupping her face. "I love you, Mrs. Rogers," he whispered against her lips.

"Je t'aime, mon coeur."

Author's note: YAY! Finally got to them exchanging vows. Did ya like how I managed to sneak it the (almost) title of the beginning of Em and Steve's story, Change is Everything? And Jane and Tony finding out that Em is with a past version of Steve?

Just a few things. I tried to model Em's dress off of this one: bit . ly / 2P21szO (just removed the spaces). History wise, soldiers on overseas posts had to ask for prior Army command permission before marrying; essential they believed that it was promoting military efficiency because a soldier marrying a foreign bride would be distracted. During the war, though, the Supreme Court declared marriage a "basic civil right of man" during WWII.