When Peggy awoke the following morning, it was with far more grace than her sudden start during the night.
In fact, it took her a few minutes to really wake up, nuzzling against Steve's broad chest as it rose and fell rhythmically.
He had fallen asleep as well at some point, something Peggy was relieved to see, but whatever had woken her (and something had; she was far too warm and comfortable to have woken naturally) didn't seem to have bothered him in the slightest.
In fact, it took her a few minutes to realise that it was a gentle buzzing in her pocket that had woken her, and she extracted her cell phone to find a message waiting for her from Phil.
ETA fifteen minutes.
Peggy fired off a quick text confirming that she'd received it and asking Phil to pick up a few things on the way.
She'd gone back to brunette before she left for the mission (since she would have stuck out like a sore thumb as a blonde); she wouldn't have time to dye it again before returning to the helicarrier, but coloured contacts would at least maintain the illusion of Sharon.
Not to mention the fact that everyone would be more focused on the impending end of the world to worry about her even-more-uncanny-than-usual resemblance to her 'great-aunt'.
The thought was sobering, and she sighed, disentangling herself from Steve's arms to sit up. "Steve."
Steve stirred but didn't move, and she smiled fondly, brushing the hair from his face. "Come on, soldier. Time to get up." She toyed with the idea of playing the reveille on her phone, but that could backfire. "Steve."
His eyes flickered open, blinking in confusion, and a spark of fear entered them that just about broke her heart."
"Ssh," she murmured, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You're alright, Steve. It's May 2012 and we're in New York City."
He blinked again, the fear fading away as he rubbed a hand over his face. "Good morning."
"Good morning to you too," Peggy said with smile. "Sleep well?"
"Yes actually," Steve said, sounding surprised. "I didn't even realise I'd fallen asleep. Thanks for just now."
"It's fine," Peggy said, frowning slightly. "Were you alone when you woke up the first time?"
Steve nodded.
"And that was the first time you've slept since then?"
Steve sighed heavily. "Yes. Not for lack of trying."
Peggy smiled. "Well, we'll pick that up afterwards. We need to go and save the world. Agent Coulson's bringing me a change of clothes, so do you mind if I grab a shower?"
"Not at all," Steve said, waving his hand towards the bathroom as he sat up. "You'll end up smelling like me though."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Peggy said cheekily, pulling him into a brief kiss before getting out of bed. She retrieved her purse from the living room and rifled through it to find a hair brush. "You read the debriefing I'm guessing. Any questions?"
"Nothing urgent," Steve said. "But why was the Tesseract even in play?"
Peggy grimaced. "Don't ask me. I argued against it the first time round and I got overruled. I knew something would go wrong."
"How well do you know the compromised agents?" Steve asked.
"I don't know Agent Reed at all," Peggy said, running the brush through her hair. "He was NASA security for the scientists. Dr Selvig I only know by reputation, but he seems a good man. Agent Barton …" Her voice wavered and she cleared her throat. "Clint is …"
There were tears burning in her eyes, something he seemed to hear even though she wasn't facing him, and his arms appeared around her waist.
She dropped the brush to lean back against him, turning to hide her face in his shoulder.
"Peggy?" He prompted softly.
"He joined us when he was eighteen," she said softly, shifting just a little so he could hear her. "Sniper. Prefers arrows to bullets, but pretty deadly either way. Likes to hide in the ventilation systems. One of the few who knows who I am."
"Are you two …?"
"Fonduing?" Peggy finished dryly.
Steve chuckled. "I am never going to live that down, am I?"
"No." Peggy pulled away to wipe her eyes. "No, it's not like that. He's … he's my son. I didn't give birth to him, but I feel like I was supposed to. Like there's a parallel universe where I did. Does that make sense?"
"We'll get him back," Steve said immediately. "It doesn't make sense to me, but it does to you and that's what matters."
Peggy took a deep breath, pushing down her emotions. "Thank you. Now a lot of people we speak to on the carrier will probably know who I really am, but it's best to call me Sharon anyway just to be safe. On saying that, you'll get away with Agent Carter. Or Agent Thirteen, but no one would expect you to call me that."
"How'd you end up with Thirteen?" Steve asked.
Peggy sniggered. "I went through a period when all of my ops seemed to go south. I pulled them back, obviously, but the general belief was that Sharon was inherently unlucky. Hence the nickname. You're probably better off with Agent Carter."
"Force of habit," Steve said with a smile. "I'll manage."
"Coulson will be here in fifteen … ten minutes," Peggy said, glancing at the time. "So I'm going to grab a shower. Can you just throw the change of clothes in here when he arrives?" She set the brush aside, let him pull her into one more kiss, and locked herself in the tiny bathroom.
The pipes creaked ominously, and her clothes hit the floor with no semblance of ceremony, getting nudged aside by her foot while she waited for the water to warm.
'Warm', as it turned out, was not the most accurate of descriptions. In fact, it was only accurate in that it was warmer than drinking water, and she could only hope that this was a fluke and that SHIELD weren't really depriving a man who had crashed a plane into the Arctic of decently heated water.
It was tolerable though, and warmer than the showers she had been putting up with for the last six months, so she stepped in.
It wasn't just the water temperature and apartment decor that SHIELD was losing points on. The soap looked eerily familiar, and a quick sniff transported her back to cramped barracks, to field hospitals, and even further than that, to the underground stations of London, pressed up against her mother as they navigated the twists and turns through hordes of people.
There's keeping things familiar and there's taking things too far. And this is definitely the latter.
She had just stepped out of the shower when she heard the bedroom door open and close and, sure enough, there was a folded pile of clothes sitting on the bed, including her SHIELD uniform.
She dressed quickly, checking the fitting, and stepped out into the living room, breaking the awkward silence.
"Good morning, Agent Coulson."
"Morning, Agent Carter," Phil said, holding out a cup of coffee.
"I've got you well-trained," Peggy said with a smile. "Quinjet waiting?"
"On the roof," Phil said, handing her a small plastic box.
Peggy took a gulp of coffee and set it to one side, retrieving her compact mirror from her purse. "Thanks."
"What are they?" Steve asked curiously.
"Contact lenses," Peggy answered. "Has no one given you a run-through of the 21st century?"
"Not really," Steve said. "I'm kind of figuring it out as I go."
"Don't look at me," Phil said, when Peggy gave him a scolding look. "I've been in New Mexico."
Peggy sniffed, but turned back to Steve. "They're kind of like glasses, except you apply them directly to your eye. Some of them correct your vision - these change the colour of my eyes so people don't recognise me for … well, me. Normally I have blonde hair as well, but this is going to have to suffice. I've just come back from undercover in the far east; they'll be expecting dark hair."
"Doesn't that hurt?" Steve asked, watching in fascination as her eyes turned from brown to blue.
"No," Peggy assured him. "It was a little uncomfortable when I first used them, but I'm used to it now." She blinked a few times, letting them settle, and gave a satisfied nod. "Shall we, gentlemen?"
May 2012, a quinjet over the ocean
The ride to the carrier was mostly quiet.
Peggy sat beside Steve, talking him through the StarkPad and Dr Banner's profile, familiarising herself with the latter at the same time.
Steve had been silent as he read through the information, flicking through the security footage of the Hulk rampaging across Harlem with an unreadable expression, but now, as Coulson gave them his complete attention once more, he spoke.
"So Dr Banner was trying to recreate the formula they used on me?"
"A lot of people were," Phil said. "You were the world's first superhero. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula."
"Didn't really go his way, did it?" Steve murmured, bringing up the security footage once more.
"Not so much," Phil agreed.
"Poor guy," Peggy muttered. She felt guilty every time an attempt went wrong, because she was certain that Howard would have been able to figure out the formula eventually, had he not given it to her.
Then again, she wasn't sure she trusted any government with an army of super-soldiers, so maybe it was for the best that he hadn't.
"When he's not that thing, though, guy's like … Stephen Hawking."
Steve frowned in confusion, and Peggy added, "Stephen Hawking is a world-renowned physicist. Dr Banner is a genius."
She could see Phil fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, and gave him an encouraging smile. While Steve had always disliked the fame that came with being Captain America, Phil was going to say something at some point, and it was better it happened here than on the carrier where people (Natasha) could gather blackmail material.
"I gotta say, it's an honour to meet you," he said finally. "Officially. I've sort of met you. I mean, I watched you … while you were sleeping."
Peggy let a giggle slip out, both at Phil's wording and the look of supreme discomfort on Steve's face.
"I mean, I was present, while you were unconscious," Phi said, the tips of his ears turning just a little pink.
"Better," Peggy said. "Where were you when he work up then?"
There was no blame in her voice; she had a feeling she knew the answer, and sure enough …
"Natasha ended up in medical," Phil said. "And then I got moved to oversee New Mexico. I assumed I would be covered."
Peggy made a small noise of understanding as Steve stood. She immediately missed his warmth beside her and scolded herself for doing so. He had always felt the need to move around rather than just sit and accept his fame.
"It's really … It's just a huge honour to have you on board," Phil said, finally getting out the words he'd been aiming for.
"I hope I'm the man for the job," Steve said in a low voice.
"Oh, you are," Phil said. "Absolutely. We made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input."
"Phil, don't go quitting on us," Peggy said good-naturedly. "You're the best we've got, regardless of your other interests."
"The uniform?" Steve repeated. "Aren't the stars and stripes a little … old-fashioned?"
Peggy raised an eyebrow, checking her phone. "I wear the stars and stripes." She smiled the second he started to stammer out an apology. "Sorry, that was mean. You're right, but people respond to it. Makes them feel better."
"Plus, with everything that's going on … the things that are about to come to light …" Phil said. "Well, people might just need a little old-fashioned."
Steve nodded absently, then did a double-take, looking at Peggy. "Wait, what? Why do you wear the stars and stripes?"
Peggy raised an eyebrow. "No one's told you? Then this is going to be fun."