Perhaps if the storm hadn't cut her power, leaving her phone uncharged, she would not have been late that day for work.
And if she had not been late that day, then she wouldn't have had to take the 8:30 train and be crammed against all the 9 to 5'ers.
And if she hadn't been crammed against the 9 to 5'ers, she may never have noticed the small man crushed against one of the poles in the car and the way he didn't even seem to notice.
She watched in interest as people came and left as the car made several stops, but he just held onto the pole tightly, eyes trained on the windows, blonde hair swept back with a bit of something to keep it in place.
Something about his far off look entranced her. His slim shoulders and below average height should have made him less noticeable, more likely to disappear in the bustling crowd of commuters around her. But instead his presences seemed to fill the car, even if it was just evident for her.
She heard her stop announced and she felt a pang of disappointment to be losing sight of the man. But only for a moment. For as the car began to slow, she noticed he shifted, slowly making his way through the throngs of people to the door.
They shared a stop.
She smiles ever so slightly as the car comes to a halt. He's off before her, but she keeps him in her eye line as they head up the stairs and out to the pavement.
She wonders about him, his life and the reason he holds his shoulders the way he does. As if waiting for someone to challenge him.
She's about to mentally wish him well when he takes her turn and begins heading the direction she is heading. She laughs silently, following closely behind as their paths seem to be intertwined.
But her laughter turns to intense curiosity as he turns exactly as she needs to.
If he wasn't in front of her, she'd assume she was being followed.
And he seems to not notice they've been in close proximity and walking the same way for several minutes. Not that she blames him. Those who aren't spies don't tend to track the movements around them.
Even now, as a former spy, she keeps her wits about her and her eyes peeled for tails or unusual behavior.
But this man forges ahead, oblivious to her as his unintentional tail, slipping through the cracks of spaces that people's bodies create as the masses move and shift through the streets of New York.
The steam drains let off their fogs of white and the shops are either open or opening. She usually stops at the Griffith for a cup of coffee and a pastry, but for some reason she doesn't want to lose sight of this man who for some unknown reason to her has captured her attention.
So she walks past her usual place and continues to follow him.
He stops at another cafe, a smaller and more cozy one, called the 107th. She stands behind him in line, one customer between them as a buffer.
"Hey pal," the man behind the counter greets her lead kindly, "the usual?"
"Yeah Gabe, thanks."
The man rings him up and her lead swipes a credit card, moving out of line to the pickup location.
Soon it's her turn, and she hasn't even looked at the menu.
"What'll you have?" The man asks with a kid smile.
"Oh," she responds, "what do you recommend if I want a coffee and something to eat?"
"Our Caramel Iced Coffee is our biggest seller, and for food are you thinking sweet or salty?"
She looks at the case, it all looks amazing, and she is hungry. She didn't really have breakfast for being in such a rush this morning.
"One of each maybe?"
He lights up, "oh I like your style. Then the mini spinach and artichoke quiches are my biggest hit, they're really good, and then for sweet, I always choose a maple bar, but our coffee cake is our best seller."
Peggy looks at the man who seems genuinely interested in making sure she gets something she likes, "I'll take it all. Everything you mentioned."
He laughs, "Oh man, I really like your style. You just became my favorite customer of the day."
She laughs and pays, moving to the pick up station where she sees the man she'd been following picking up his drink and waving farewell to the people behind the counter. She watches what way he heads as he exits and when she's handed her items soon after, she manages to catch up with his shorter stride not too much further down the block.
Peggy only has one more block before her building, when she will have to separate from her lead, but she watches as he slowly sips his drink and makes his way easily as if he knows the sidewalks like the back of his hand.
She halts in surprise as instead of walking past the entrance to where she works, he enters the door to her workplace.
Then she hurries in, watching as he pulls out an ID badge from his coat and swipes it along the reader, smiling at Happy, the morning security guard.
Peggy watches in awe as he pushes through the door to the stairwell and she can see he walks down the stairs, unlike her who works on the top floors.
Now maybe she doesn't know every employee, but as the new Director of Shield she feels like she should at least recognize most of them… She walks up to the elevator and contemplates asking Happy who he was, but she stays silent. Already planning to do some of her own investigating.
—-
"You're late!" Howard crows, "you're never late! This is some sort of occasion, we need to celebrate," he claps his hands, "somebody break out the champagne!"
"It's 9am, Howard." Peggy rolls her eyes, "a little early to start day drinking."
"You came into work over an hour late, and you have—" he gasps, "is that food! You were late and you took the time to stop for food!?" He looks at her, tilting her head, "did you hit your head this morning?"
She laughs, used to his harmless pokes at her uptight attitude. "The power in my building shut off, and so my alarm didn't sound. I didn't think I deserved to starve over something that wasn't my fault."
He laughs and follows her into her office. She sets the food down and then immediately has to wave Howard away, "it's mine you hyena! Get your own food!"
"But yours smells so good." He says reaching a finger to peek into the bag. "The 107th?" He asks, looking at the retro design of the bag, "don't you usually go to the Griffith? What happened, were they closed?"
Explaining that she went to a new place because of a complete stranger who just so happens to work at Shield sounds insane. So she lies.
"Just felt like trying something new. This place called out to me." She takes a sip of her coffee and sighs at the smooth and sweet flavor of the caramel blending with the robust iced coffee.
"So," he says, circling around her desk and plopping into one of the plush chairs that face her, "what are we going to do about the Hydra problem?"
She takes another sip, thinking as she does so, circling slowly in her chair until she's facing back towards Howard. "They've got to have insiders in Shield with all the classified information they've been able to acquire about us. I hate thinking someone on our staffing is really working for Hydra. We need to sort out who knows what so we can stop the leak."
"Absolutely and soon. I don't want even a whiff of my inventions or anything in their greasy hands. If they start passing along blueprints, or formulas we're going to start having problems."
"Those are deeply classified and locked up," she glares at him, "correct?"
He glares back, "yeah Pegs. They are. But so was the information about our soon to be contract with the Air Force and somehow those got leaked. Plus, if they steal those military contracts, we will start having financial difficulties. Weapons contractors don't mean much if no one's buying the weapons." He says with a pout.
"My only thought is that they think we're more susceptible with Phillips retired." She says with a frown, "they'll be unpleasantly surprised to find this isn't the case."
His usual smirk returns. "I love when people underestimate you."
He's about to hop up and out of her chair, presumably to go pretend to work, when she makes a half aborted noise.
Howard pauses and waits, but she chickens out. "Never mind."
The narrowed eyes tell her she's just lost this fight. When Howard's curiosity is piqued, well…
"I was wondering, in line with discovering this mole, if we shouldn't be getting to know all our employees more? We've got about 100 and I thought I knew them all, but I have the feeling I don't, not enough to put faces to names. And as director I feel that's an oversight."
And thankfully, this sounds enough like her that he just nods, "whatever floats your director's boat. Just you? Or me too?"
"Whatever you want." She says with a wave of her hand, "but since our contracts are a bit of a mess and it will take Rose some time to get the details to us, I'm going to start today." She takes a bite of the maple bar and has to restrain herself from shoving the whole thing in her mouth.
He shrugs, "I mean, I don't have much to do. Haven't been making any designs on the programs here anyways, too afraid it will get into the wrong hands."
"Give me 15 minutes to eat this and I'll be ready."
—-
Her coffee cup dangling in her hand, they take the elevator all the way to the bottom floor. There's only 5 employees down there, in charge of digitizing files, organizing anything that needs to be organized, and working in the storage facilities. While they are all nice and a bit confused to her and Howard's presence, none of them are the blonde man she's searching for.
The next floor is records and customer service and odds and ends of IT. She meets some very nice people again but still not the one she's looking for.
As they reach the last floor before ground level, she keeps her eyes on alert as they walk into the rooms.
"Director Carter." She hears a voice say, "to what do we owe the pleasure?"
They turn to find Dugan smiling at them. "Hello," she responds with a smile, "we're doing an employee walk through. Want to make sure I know everyone's names and faces. Would you gather them up please?"
He raises an eyebrow at her, but walks to his desk, where he is lead on security and detailing for their building and any and all excursions and sales. He clicks a button on his landline and speaks, "can everyone come to the lobby please? We have special visitors."
It takes a few minutes for about 7 employees wandering to the lobby looking various degrees of confused at the odd request.
And there he is. All blonde and bright blue eyed, and an ink smear on his neck that he obviously can't see. His hair, while having been perfectly in place on the busy train, now looks as if he's run his fingers through it multiple times. In fact she can see traces of ink in it as well.
Then she hears Howard make a noise in his throat that she's very familiar with. The 'I just remembered something important but can't quite put my finger on what it is' sound.
"Well," Dugan starts, "this is the below sea level crew." He says this with a smile and Peggy can tell this must be an inside joke to the rest of the floor with the way they respond with smiles and find eye rolls. He works his way through the employees, and the subconscious part of her brain is listening and storing the information as she shakes their hands and interacts with them, but her mind is fully occupied in the man who is second to last and looks positively endearing as he adjusts his shirt and runs his hand through his hair.
"And this is Steve—" Dugan says, and Peggy watches as Dugan's eyes soften to something more kind and find than she's ever seen, "he's the genius behind—"
"Knock it off Dum-Dum." Steve says with a fond groan.
Howard snorts and then pauses, "I know you."
Steve looks up to him, "we met once." He says calmly, "been a while back now."
Dugan doesn't seem phased by this revelation, "well then you know this is Howard Stark and this is our new fearless leader, Director Carter."
He nods, his eyes meeting hers with a smile before his head is bobbing and eyes on the ground, "'course, nice to meet you ma'am."
"And what is it that you are a genius at?" She asks, eyeing him curiously.
Steve looks ready to say something but Dugan cuts him off, "he does all the inking and designs for the company. You know, when you ask for the blueprints or designs to be an exact way or if you need adverts drawn up, Steve's your guy."
Howard steps forward, "S.R." He laughs, "I shoulda known those initials belonged to a real human being." He turns to Peggy, "this guy has fixed more design issues than I've even caused, and that's saying something!" He steps closer to Steve and points at him, "you redesigned the logo too, right? Damn, I remember Phillips talking about you. Never mentioned a name, he hated the familiarity of names, but the closest thing I ever saw to him getting sentimental was when he talked about how much he loved the new logo."
Steve's head ducks a bit but he smiles, "yeah, Phillips always did right by me."
And the sentimentality In which that statement is said surprises her.
Dugan is smiling widely? "Yep, Steve's the whole art and design department, not to mention the graphic design too. The website is all him—"
"Everyone here works hard, Dugan." Steve says, cutting him off, he looks up at both of them and nods in deference, "it's real nice of you guys to come take the time to meet with us."
Peggy is about to respond in kind when Dugan eyes the cup in her hand. "The 107th?" He leans down to peer at the little retro logo, "Steve, didn't you do this design for them too?"
Peggy looks up in surprise and to her even greater shock, Steve looks worried, "yeah, but that was just freelance." He turns towards Howard and her, "I promise I don't let freelance get in the way of me completing my job here to the best of my ability."
Howard picks the cup up and studies the logo, "this is really cool. Very well balanced." And then Howard, blast him for being the actual genius he is, looks at Peggy curiously and then back to Steve, "say, you eat at this place often?"
Steve nods, "yeah, they have great stuff, the owner and I are good friends."
"Did you happen to stop there this morning?"
Steve looks at him curiously, "yeah… why?"
Howard looks at her and an infuriating curiosity is aflame in his eyes. "Just wondering."
"Well," Peggy says shortly, "it was nice meeting you all." They say their goodbyes and walk into the elevator where Howard presses a button and leans against the wall.
She tries to exude nonchalance as the elevator rises. But her mind is occupied by the man. How can someone you don't even know full your mind so?
The elevator dings and she walks out, barely paying attention as she walks to her office. And she's halfway there, the few other workers typing away at their desk before Howard laughs.
He laughs loudly.
She turns and eyes him curiously. "What?"
The way he practically shoves her into her office makes her protest lightly until the door shuts and he points at her, "meeting the employees my ass! You were searching for him."
"What on earth do you mean!"
"Maybe the fact that we just skipped the last 4 floors of employees and you didn't even notice?"
She opens her mouth to respond and realizes he's trapped her. So preoccupied with her discovery that she hadn't even noticed their ascent to the top floor.
"I—" she starts, "no, I just needed to grab something from here." She turns and shuffles to her desk and he laughs again.
"Holy shit I've never seen you like this! Man, Rogers? Really? I mean, I've never seen you date, so I don't know your type, but I always assumed you—"
She turns to glare at him and he shuts up immediately. Then his brow furrows, "but man, I do know him. How do I know him?"
"You're asking me?"
"So how did that happen? Your whole vendetta of meeting employees? What's the story?"
And while Howard is the more infuriating of her friends, he still is a trustworthy guy, so she sighs and leans against her desk. "I don't know. I was late this morning, and so I had to take a later train, and there he was. This man who was so…" she pictures the way he had just exuded self-assurance as he held himself steady against the train's sway. "I don't know. I can't explain it. And then I thought that was that, but he kept taking the turns I needed, and suddenly I found myself following him into that cafe—" she gestures at the cup she'd set on the desk, "and then suddenly I'm following him into Shield, and I just…" she sighs and feels incredibly silly. "I just had to figure that mystery out. There was just something about him."
She looks up, expecting a gleeful or gloating Howard only to find a contemplative one. His
Mouth moves slowly as he repeats her words, "something about him…" he trials off and is glazed eyed for one second before he snaps and comes to, "Erskine!" He shakes his head and stares at her wide eyed, "holy shit he was Erskine's recruit! I can't believe—"
"Erskine?"
"Yeah," Howard says with a disbelieving laugh, "remember how Erskine, that German contractor, wanted to figure out a way to cure disease and help the human body be stronger and healthier?"
She remembers meeting the man and briefly being debriefed on his plans before the contract had been severed by Schmidt's overlording about the sanctity of trademarked knowledge or whatever the hell excuse he used to keep the project from moving forward outside of Germany. "Sort of?"
"Well, Erskine was here in New York looking for subjects and he said he just found Steve, that he'd been walking in Brooklyn and had overheard Steve talking with someone and had said those exact words, "'there's something about him, Stark.'" She listens with disbelief as he continues, "so he convinced Steve to be a test run, a trial in the US sector they were going to start, and I think they got past quite a few stages before Schmidt pulled the plug—" Howard gasps, "glasses! He used to wear glasses, and a hearing aide!" He tilts his head and scoffs, "man I wish we'd been able to keep that contract. It could have been revolutionary."
"So…" she starts, "how did he end up at Shield?"
"Well, since he got through so many of the stages, he knew more classified information about it than almost anyone else on the project.. He and Erskine got so close and Erskine even had Steve working to help push the project forward, so when Erskine got recalled to Germany, I remember Phillips telling me that we were going to keep him on. More to keep him and his knowledge out of the wrong hands. But I didn't know his name, only had met him once, just Erskine's pet project that we weren't allowed to touch anymore."
"But you said Phillips—"
"Well now it all makes sense, right? I didn't know it was the same guy, and Phillips was all bluster, but I think both he and Erskine had a soft spot for this kid. And now look," he smirks at her, "you too."
"I do not—"
"Whatever you say Carter. But hey, there's no rule against dating employees."
She scoffs, "there should be."
He shrugs and leaves her office with a smile.
—
That evening, she sets her alarm for later.
—
When she catches sight of him on the train, something tight in her chest relaxes.
And she realizes how insane and dangerous this stranger's hold on her already is. But it doesn't dissuade her from following him into the 107th. And as he chats with the same kind man from the day before, she finds that she's never lacked courage until this very moment.
When it's her turn to order, the man, Gabe, looks at her and smiles, "you're back!"
"Indeed." She responds with a smile, "I was quite impressed with your recommendations and I had to come in again."
He smiles wider and rubs his hands together, "well, what can I get you today?"
And the courage she lacked a moment ago returns, "tell me what his usual order is?" She points to Steve who is patiently waiting for his items and looking at the community board and all its advertisements.
Gave looks at Steve and then back to her, "uh, why?"
"Because when I ask him on a date tomorrow I'd like to already have it in hand."
He just blinks at her for a second before he's leaning over the counter and grinning madly, "how about you order what you want and I'll make sure he gets yours and you get his and you ask him today?"
Her eyebrow raises in amusement as she hands over her card, "deal."
—-
"Steve."
Peggy watches as a brunette with a cheery smile hands over a coffee and a bag to him.
"Thanks. Angie." He says with a smile before waving goodbye.
"Carter?" She walks over and receives similar looking items. "You better hurry." The girl says with a smirk, "he's too polite, won't even come back when he notices it's wrong."
Peggy laughs and thanks her, eyeing the group of employees that have gathered to watch the interaction. "What?"
They all glance at each other and smile, "we've been waiting for someone to snatch him up, we're all just excited." Angie chirps, "now go get him."
—
It takes her half a block to catch sight of him again. And another full one to fully catch up, but she waits until they're just outside of Shield's doors before she calls his name.
"Steve?"
He turns, looking surprised to be called, and even more shocked when he discovers that it's her. "Director Carter!"
She smiles, nodding, "yes, it's me. I think you have my order. And I in turn have yours." She holds up her little white bag that has 'steve' written on it clearly, and he turns his, finding 'Carter' written in loopy handwriting.
"Oh—" he says, not having noticed, "I guess so. Sorry about that."
She laughs at the needless apology and they swap bags. "What type of coffee did you get?" She asks with an eyebrow raise, "they look similar, how do we know if they're switched?"
She steps closer, the bustling crowds of New York pushing them closer together. He blinks at their sudden proximity and she sees him swallow thickly, "I, uh—" he looks at the cup, "I ordered coffee."
The endearing quality of the nervousness behind that statement is overwhelming.
"As did I." She states, "mine had caramel in it, and yours?"
"Hazelnut."
She tries not to laugh at the way his eyes seem perpetually stuck in a sort of half surprise and nervous state, "well, I suppose we can't know until we try." She slowly sips from her cup, and— yep, definitely not caramel. But she doesn't say anything and she waits for him to try his. He slowly brings the cup to his lips and she notices that they're a perfectly subtle pink that makes her want to study them closer.
"That's caramel." He says softly. She nods and plucks her straw from her cup, switching them deftly before handing him his proper cup. "Well, now that that's sorted, would you mind me being terribly impertinent as asking a favor from you?"
At this he seems to straighten, as if being needed awakens his sense of purpose, "of course, what can I help you with?"
"Well, I'm needing help finding a good lunch spot. And if you're a local then I bet you know some good ones. Would you be willing to show me around to some of your favorites? Only if you have time of course."
That same caught in the headlights look is back, "you want me to tell you good places?"
"Well," she gestures to the bag, "I already trust your opinions. You do get a lunch break, don't you? Or is your boss a stickler on such matters?"
And that's when she receives a smile, amusement bubbling to his eyes as he shakes his head, "I mean, sure. I have a few places I tend to rely on. I can give you their names and—"
"You wouldn't want to come with me?" The starkness of how she cuts him off makes her want to chastise herself, but he's not a very quick learner… or perhaps he's never had the experience of being sought after. And she wants to make her intentions clear.
He tilts his head, genuine surprise written in his features, "you'd want me to come?"
"You think I accost every employee on the street?"
"I—" he starts, stepping aside as a large group of college students walk past, chatting loudly about something, "I don't know. I just met you yesterday." And the truth of that statement hangs over her, making her doubt herself. But then he looks over at her and seems to gain courage, "why me?"
She sips at her coffee before smiling at him, "there's just something about you." She says softly.
And those words must have been said to him before because his eyes soften and he ducks his head, "I'm just a guy from Brooklyn."
"One of which I'd like to get to know. If you are acceptable to the offer?"
"I mean…" he hesitates, "yeah, sure. Lunch sounds good. What time?"
"Let's do 1pm, is that alright?"
He nods, "yeah, one should be fine. I'll see you then."
She nods and leans forward, being more brazen than she can remember in her life and kisses his cheek, setting off a beautiful reaction of pink splashing across his cheeks and ears. "It's a date."
—