She and Barnes head back to the SSR to ensure they get the story properly written and outfitted for the morning edition. They're silent as they make their way through the city.
It's only as they're staring up at the SSR's old brick facade that Barnes sighs, "he's never been wrong before."
She pauses, "Hmm?"
"The vigilante." Barnes says, turning to eye the traffic moving up and down the street. "Every person he's sent the police's way has been found guilty of whatever crime they'd committed. Either with the evidence the vigilante provided or by that at least starting the investigation. I…" he sighs and starts moving towards the door, "I think we just watched a guilty man go free."
Peggy follows him slowly, working her way up to the stairs and thinking.
"So we prove that." She says finally. "Corruption is rampant. Perhaps he rigged the jury, or bought his acquittal. But we can publish the truth."
"Yeah…" Barnes says, "but he can't be tried again. Not under Double Jeopardy laws."
"So we ignore the truth?" She says with a frown, "whether he likes it or not, we publish the hard facts and he can watch his career and reputation sink, even if he doesn't get jail time."
"We'll get canned. For defamation of character." He responds sourly.
"And?" She asks, "you were in this job for the cushy lifestyle?"
He looks at her sharply, then she watches as his mind whirs in thought. He sits heavily in his chair and spins in a slow circle. His eyes land on Steve's desk and he sighs. "As my most obnoxious friend would say… 'it's the right thing to do'. Let's do it."
She smiles and nods, "okay. Let's get coffee and get cracking."
—-
The next morning, they're already hard at work, pulling up documents and deep diving into the oldest records they can find of Schmidt's early days. Only Phillips is in his office so far. The stairwell door opens with a bit too much force, crashing against the side and they pop their heads up at the noise.
Barnes' eyebrows furrow at the sight of Steve, who has never entered any other way than quietly. Their eyes track his massive frame as he walks in, eyes on the ground and headphones in his ears. Except… Peggy looks at Barnes in shock, because they can hear him blasting music in them from here.
"Steve?" She calls, eyeing him in concern. But he doesn't respond, just sitting at his desk.
Barnes is up and over to his desk in seconds. He rips the headphones away from Steve's ears, causing the man to look up, startled.
"Steve, what the hell?" Barnes hisses, and only because Peggy is good at reading lips does she catch Barnes' next statement, "you wanna go deaf in both ears?"
Steve's face flattens, emotions disappearing. Just turns away from Barnes and focuses on his desk.
The shock at the dismissal is clear across Barnes' face. "What's the matter, Steve? What happened?"
Peggy walks closer, slowly.
"What'd'ya mean?" Steve asks, eyes on his desk and he sorts through pencils.
"You were just blasting music, and you're acting like a robot."
"And that's illegal?"
"Steve, what the hell? What's going on?"
"Bucky, nothing. I'm fine."
The way Steve's lips are set, even Peggy knows he's not going to give an inch. So she watches Barnes switch tactics. "Okay, then come help us."
"With what?" Steve says, no interest in his voice.
"We're going to bring Schmidt down." Barnes says with a grin on his face, "Pegs and I are convinced he rigged the jury and we're gonna prove it."
Steve's neck snaps up so fast Peggy swears she should have heard a crack.
"You're what!?"
Barnes' brow furrows at the reaction, "we're gonna—"
"No." Steve says flatly. "You're not."
Both he and Peggy reel back at the unexpected response.
"Steve, he's a slime ball, he—"
"You are not going to go after him!" Steve snaps, pointing a finger, "leave it be."
She watches Barnes bristle and put his fingers to his ear as if he's on a phone call, "uh, excuse me, Twilight Zone? Yeah, hi, I'd like my old friend Steve back?" Steve's shoulders hunch in annoyance, but Barnes doesn't stop. "Yeah, the guy who used to actually stand up to the bullies instead of running scared from them!" It's an accusatory glare and Steve's eyes are wide and hurt and furious.
"Don't." Steve whispers harshly, yanking his glasses off his face, "don't you start with that shit."
Peggy blinks in surprise at the vehemence in his tone.
"Start what, Steve?" Barnes asks, throwing up his arms in mock surrender, "start with the fact that you haven't been the same the last couple years? That I feel like I don't know you at all? Even though we've known each other our whole lives?"
"Maybe…" Steve's voice drips with sarcasm, "we can have this conversation somewhere other than work?"
"Work." Bucky snaps, frustrated. "You mean the only place I really ever see you? What the hell, Steve? I decided to write this article because—" he slams his palm against his leg, "because it's what the old you would have done. Not taken no for an answer! You would have wanted Schmidt to be brought down just as much as we do!"
Peggy's trying to keep up, she's never seen them like this, but she can see that the hurt and frustration is real. This has obviously been an issue that Barnes has kept quiet about. She glances to see Phillips quietly watching from his doorway, she winces.
"He went to court and was acquitted." Steve says flatly, "end of story."
"You can't possibly believe that! The vigilante had all that proof!"
"The vigilante is an idiot!" Steve bellows, and Peggy feels herself physically lean back in fear as Steve rises to his feet, all of his enormous frame looming towards Barnes. "He's an idiot to believe that his actions would actually make a difference in this shithole of a city!" His chest expands and Peggy sees him for the first time, inhumanly expansive and slightly terrifying. "Just leave. It. Alone." He slams the pencils down on his desk and they snap. Steve stares at them momentarily, eyes wide before turning and practically shoving past Barnes and out the door.
There's dead silence.
Peggy looks at Barnes, whose face has drained of all color, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. She walks forward, touching him gently on the shoulder.
"Barnes?" She speaks softly.
His eyes shift to her and deep confusion is written all over his face, "I don't—" his voice is almost hoarse, "what—" he shakes his head, "he's never talked like that…" he whispers, "he loves this city, he… he would die for Brooklyn. I've never heard him…" He seems at a loss for words and his voice trails off.
She frowns, "something must have happened to have him all out of sorts." The broken pencils pieces shift and roll off the desk, falling with a clatter.
"Like what?" Barnes asks, the shock wearing off and leaving anger to take its place, "like what!" He seethes. "What is his deal! I thought he'd be thrilled we were going after that government slug!" He whips around and catches Phillips' watching eye, "what?" He snaps, "you got some insight into why Steve is acting like he's been replaced with an alien!?" Phillip's eyebrows go up and Barnes stills, realizing his mistake, "sorry, sir."
"I'll allow it." And it's the most concession she's ever seen Phillips allow. Which speaks to the gravity of the situation. These men have known Steve for longer than almost anyone else. "I've never seen him so rattled." Phillips says slowly, "there must be something big going on."
It's not exactly a question. But since none of them have an answer, they stand there silently, a feeling of trepidation since none of them have ever seen Steve lose his cool like that. The door opens and Monty walks in with Gabe. They're chatting but stop at the sight of the three of them standing there awkwardly.
"What's happening?" Gabe asks, pushing into the bullpen.
"Either of you know why Steve might be having a hard day?" Phillips' ask gruffly.
"Steven's having a rough day?" Monty asks, setting his bag down.
"Guess not." Barnes' mutters.
It only takes a few minutes for the rest of the crew to arrive and they wander to their desks, working now aimlessly. Both she and Barnes keep their eyes on the door, hoping Steve will return, but he doesn't.
At lunch they send someone to bring lunch for everyone and they eat in relative quiet. The bull pen subdued under the demeanor of Barnes and Philips. They can tell something happened, they just don't know what.
"What did you mean?" Peggy ventures, "I thought you guys were best friends, but…" she glances up on him, "You made some interesting comments about your friendship."
He sighs, long and sad and then shakes his head. "I may have been being slightly over dramatic" he admits, "but…" he looks at her, "Steve and I were inseparable when we were kids. We did everything together. And I mean everything. We ate, did school, got in and out of so many fights our moms lost track. So when he moved away I was real…" he rolls his eyes gesturing at himself, "I was mad about it. I lost my brother basically. So when we reconnected in college, I thought…" Peggy can sense the direction this story is heading, "I thought maybe it would be like old times, us against the world, but… He was just so quiet and—" he laughs, "Steve may have been crazy thin and gangly, but he was never clumsy. So the new size and his ability to knock things over… I don't know, he just wasn't the same. So shy too, hiding in his apartment a lot, not answering my phone calls. I sound like a psycho ex-girlfriend, but really… I'm just the only family he has left, and it kills me that I feel like I don't know him."
"But you do know him, you work together, eat together, hang out—"
"We barely ever see each other out of work." Barnes admits. "Sometimes we do, but usually he's cancelling on me." He gives a wry grin, "guess I'm not the cool older brother he wants to hang out with anymore."
Peggy huffs a laugh, "have you thought about the fact that maybe there's something else going on? Perhaps he has a woman friend, or maybe found another group of friends?"
Barnes laughs, "If Steve had a girl and he didn't tell me? I'd be pissed. But also—" he looks over at her and raises his eyebrows, "he'd never admit it, but I think he's got a thing for you."
Peggy scoffs, "you're impossible."
"Whatever." He laughs, "either way, I don't know what's going on with him. I can't imagine why he would not want us to go after Schmidt. I'll admit he isn't as outspoken with his words or his fists about things, but he's always been an advocate for what he thinks is right."
"Does he have a personal connection to Schmidt maybe?"
"No. No way. I don't know what it is."
"Well, we aren't reporters for no reason." She says with a smile. "We can figure this out, if you'd like?"
Another sigh, "let's just work the Schmidt story. We can find out what Steve's issue is when he decides to show his face again."
She nods and they get to work.
—-
They're packing up to go home when he reappears, walking quietly, his shoulders back to being hunched and head ducked.
He's at his desk and Peggy watches as he slowly puts his glasses back on. It strikes her now that he had left without them, which is probably the reason he had to come back. Barnes steps closer, slowly.
"Steve?"
Everyone's lingering and she watches as Steve ducks further behind his desk,
shifting and knocking off a stack of rulers. His voice is back to being soft and almost nervous. "Yeah?"
"You wanna talk about it?"
After this morning she almost expects a sharp response, instead she hears,
"Buck, I'm sorry." Barnes is surprised too because he doesn't speak and Steve continues, "I'm sorry for being such a crappy friend. I know I haven't been around a lot. I promise I'll do better—"
"Woah, woah." Barnes finally finds his voice, "I never called you a crappy friend."
Steve's voice gets quieter as he glances up at the audience now pretending not to watch. "You might as well have." He says softly, "I'm sorry for that. I'll… I'll be better,"
He picks up the rulers and sets them on his desk carefully. Barnes looks at the men and rolls his eyes, shooing them away. They file out, no excuse to stay and watch.
Barnes waits till the bullpen is quiet before switching tactics, "Peggy and I were going to get dinner at that place with the dumplings, you wanna come?"
They in fact, did not have any plans like that whatsoever, but she stands there, willing to be a part of the ruse to try to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering Steve.
"Oh," Steve replies, "I have to stay and get some work done, I didn't get to it today."
Undeterred, Barnes leans against the desk behind him and nods, "okay, then I'll bring the food back here to you. Okay?"
Steve winces and looks at the raised desk, "Buck, I'm just gonna w—"
"Just gonna say you're going to do better and then immediately blow me off again. Okay. Cool. Fine." And Peggy hears the snap of true annoyance as Barnes throws up his hands and stalks back to his desk.
She looks at Steve whose expression makes Peggy's heart clench. He looks so sad and torn up. "Buck, that's not…"
Barnes turns, eyebrows raised, "not what?"
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Okay, and how did you mean it?"
"I"m just going to be working. I don't want to bore you guys."
It's a dreadful lie. Easily spotted and thrown into the bin. But he sticks to it. Unwilling to admit whatever his real reason is for not wanting them to stay.
"It won't bore us, will it Peg?" Barnes asks, eyes directly on Steve. It's a challenge. A challenge issued to Steve to see if he'll tell them to go or why he doesn't want them around. She could bow out, let them deal with whatever personal friendship issues they seem to be having, but she's nothing if not curious. It's in her nature as a reporter.
"Not at all." She says easily, "it will be enjoyable actually." She smiles at Steve and watches as he resigns himself in the battle of wills.
"Okay," he says blandly, "sounds good."
Barnes looks triumphant and annoyed at how blasé Steve sounds all at once.
"Peggy. You stay here, I'll go get the food. Write down your order."
Steve glares at his desk and Peggy feels like she's learning more from the silences and the glares than the actual words. Steve must disappear a lot if Barnes instructions for her to stay were any indication.
She nods and scribbles onto a scrap of paper, handing it to him as he walks out the door. Once he's gone she settles into her desk, rotating back and forth in her chair as Steve works silently.
"So." She says with a raised eyebrow, "I know we haven't known each other more than a few months but… I do have an excellent listening ear if you need one."
His eyes peek over the board, glasses reflecting the dim lighting over head before his head ducks back down, "I appreciate the offer."
It falls silent and she has to resist the urge to sigh. "I'll take that as a 'thank you but no thank you'." She can practically feel him hunch his shoulders from here. And even though she knows it's not true, she teases him anyways, "one of those macho guys who keeps it all in, huh?"
"I'm not macho." He huffs, voice annoyed.
And suddenly, the fact that they're alone in this office with nobody around fills the air.
Her mother had always scolded her as a child and teen. Called her mischievous and a trouble seeker. Not a troublemaker. A trouble seeker. It's one of the reasons she became a reporter.
And right now Steve is a bottomless cavern of mystery.
And she always hated unsolved mysteries.
She feels that instinct rise in her now.
She stands and places a hand on her hip.
"Oh?" She asks, a challenge in her voice. "Not macho huh?"
Steve doesn't glance up. "Nope." He says flatly.
She saunters closer, leaning on his elevated artist's desk. She watches him stiffen at her presence.
"I disagree." She says, more challenge in her tone. "You probably dream of lifting weights. Right?"
He scoffs, his eyes flicking up to her. "I really don't."
"Stand up."
This catches him off guard. "What? Why?"
"What, too macho to follow a woman's instructions?" She knows she's pushing it, but she can't help herself. He's getting riled and she loves getting that reaction out of people. He glares at her and then stands, not speaking. "Straighten your shoulders." She commands.
At this he gets wary, although she can't imagine why.
"Why?"
"I want to see something."
His shoulders seem to hunch further and his head ducks. "I'm not too macho to follow instructions, but I got a right to know why."
"You hide yourself." She states simply, raising an eyebrow to see if he'll disagree, "you try to make yourself smaller. Why is that?"
"I thought we were talking about why you think I'm too macho."
She laughs, gesturing for him to sit back down, which he does. "No." She replies easily, changing tactics. His ego is obviously not tied to his looks. Not that she thought so to begin with with how much he seemed to dislike attention. But it's always good to double check.
So she walks closer, and surprises him by standing in between his spread legs. His eyes are level with her nose and they widen as she closes the gap. She's letting the atmosphere of privacy get her too confident. She should back off, but she wants to know who Steve really is. What he's hiding.
"Steve." She says in a low voice, "why do you keep people at arm's length?"
He swallows thickly, eyes trained on hers behind the large glasses. "I don't."
"You're calling Barnes a liar?"
Steve grimaces, "no, I— He… Well, it's not like that. I don't want to keep people away."
She keeps her face placid but revels at the admittance.
"But you do..." She urges, "why?"
"I just have to." He says quietly as his eyes dart to the door. She mentally tracks what she's learned and takes the opportunity to step an inch closer. Heat radiates off him and she feels herself lean towards it. When his eyes come back he practically jolts in surprise at her proximity.
"Sorry." She says, not sounding sorry at all. Trouble Seeker, her brain shouts, but she ignores it, absolutely captivated by the man in front of her. An enigma within a puzzle behind gorgeous blue eyes and wide set shoulders. "Steve, I have to admit something." He doesn't answer, just stares at her, a deer in headlights. "I think you're hiding something from us."
The way his jaw tightens and his throat goes rigid tells her she's hit the money.
His voice is hoarse when he speaks, "what makes you say that?"
"We're reporters, Steven. It's what we do."
"I'm not."
"You're a terrible liar."
"I'm just busy."
"With what?"
"Stuff."
"Like?"
"Work."
"And?"
"Other work."
"Which is?"
He looks panicked for a moment and she blinks at the realization of how close their faces are. She's tipped forward, pressing him against the back of his swivel chair and he's staring at her in shock as their noses are mere inches apart.
"Just things I have to take care of." He practically whispers.
And Peggy let's her mouth speak before her brain can filter it, "someone you have to take care of? A girlfriend perhaps?"
He balks, "what? No!"
And it's a sincere panicked yelp, so she believes it, "then what?"
"It's none of your business." He finally manages to say, a hint of annoyance coloring through along with the blush that's creeping up from his collar.
"I know." She says with a grin, "but I just don't like you and Barnes fighting. And you are hiding something. If you won't tell me. At least tell him."
"I can't." He says it with frustration and then he blinks and looks surprised at himself. "No, I mean—" He shakes his head and pushes backwards, "I need to get to work."
So there is something he's hiding. I mean, she knew that, but now she knows it for sure. He's curling in on himself going back towards his desk and she snakes her hand out resting it on his shoulder, "Steve."
He doesn't look at her, "what."
And the warmth seeping through his shoulder into her hand emboldens her. Slowly she raises her hand and puts her fingers under his chin, tilting his head to face her. "Steve."
"Quit saying my name like that." His eyes are sad but he speaks with a bit of petulance.
"Like what?"
"Like you care." He says it so softly and his voice is raw.
Her fingers don't leave his face, but her mind is reeling and frozen in shock at the same time.
And she hears the annoyance in her tone as she responds, "I do care."
"You don't."
And he says it so assuredly that it makes her angry. She stomps her foot, her heel clacking against the linoleum. "I do!"
"You can't."
"Why ever not?"
"Because you don't know me."
She takes that comment in stride, "well then, fix that." Peggy's face is back to being close to his, and he doesn't move this time. "I want to know you. Will you let me?"
"Why?"
She rolls her eyes, knowing what's coming, "why what, Steven?"
"Why do you want to get to know me?" And it's a heartbreaking question but it frustrates her to no end.
"If you're going to make out in my bullpen can you at least wait until I'm gone?"
Peggy's spine straightens like she's been struck by lightning and both of their heads whip to Phillips' office. He stands there, in his doorway an exasperated expression on his face. She mentally runs a count back at who had left and winces to realize she hadn't actually seen him leave.
Steve looks unable to form a sentence and she just shrugs, trying to maintain some dignity, "have a good evening, sir."
He makes a grumbling noise and walks past them and out to the stairwell.
She turns back, ready to resume their conversation, but he's placed distance between them. She raises an eyebrow as his desk phone rings.
He picks it up, "Rogers here."
And the person on the other line is speaking so fast she can't hear what they're saying.
His eyes flick up to her and she steps back. Secret or no, she's not going to pry into his phone calls. At least not yet. She steps back, hands up in calm surrender.
He speaks softly into the receiver, "I can't."
There's a pause and she hears his voice drop lower, but she listens intently. "Not tonigh— I know but— It's no—- Howard, I'm—- I'll try." She hears him huff out a sigh and hang up the phone. She feigns nonchalance as she sits against her desk, going over some of the research on Schmidt. She half hopes he'll call her over, but of course he doesn't.
She rolls her eyes and walks back over. "So, I tell you I want to get to know you. And you tell me…?" She trails off, letting him know she expects an answer.
She takes in his form, hunched shoulders and glasses at the end of his nose that he pushes up with his middle knuckle. Eyes on the ground, and body language tense. Maybe he and Howard were having an argument like he and Barnes was…
Finally he speaks, voice calm, almost flat. "I'd say I don't have time to be spilling my guts to people."
Peggy is in no way an expert on relationships. In fact her last one ended so spectacularly horrid that she wasn't sure she'd want to try again for 40 years. But Steve had seemed the exact opposite of Fred, and she'll admit her disappointment at his rejection. "Okay." She says softly, "I understand."
Peggy doesn't tuck her tail between her legs and leave, or slink back to her desk. That's not who she is, she's confident enough in herself to know she's not being turned down for any reason other than the fact that he's obviously otherwise occupied with his time. "Is there something I can help with?" She asks, eyeing his desk, "I'm happy to try."
He shakes his head, "no, that's alright, thanks though."
She nods and gathers their research from the day and pulls a chair to the desk next to Steve's. She starts to study it and they work in silence as they wait.
Not too much later, Barnes reappears with food bags and three glass bottles of coke.
"Dinner time." He says, holding the bags up excitedly. Peggy notes a hint of excitement in his tone, and she suddenly realizes how much Barnes had been missing hanging out with his friend.
They pick an empty desk, and lay out the food. They eat and talk for a while, enjoying each other's company. Steve starts to relax, behaving like he usually does and soon they're teasing and joking in a way Peggy can bet is how they used to be as children.
"—and then, Steve was huffing and puffing, barely able to breathe, because those bully's had yanked off his jacket with his inhaler in the pocket!" He laughs, slapping the desk, "he almost passed out right there, but I grabbed him and practically hauled him all the way back home! His ma was so mad!"
Peggy laughs and looks at Steve curiously, "I've never even seen you use an inhaler!" She shakes her head, "I feel so unobservant!"
Barnes blinks, then tilts his head towards Steve, "actually… Now that you mention that. I haven't either. You have one on you?"
Steve swallows and bobs his head, eyes on the ground, "oh, uh, yeah I don't carry one much anymore. It's manageable now."
Peggy nods, "I'm sure that's a relief." She says simply, "what did your mother do?"
"We got yelled at for so long." Barnes laughs, "the set of pipes on both our moms was legendary." Steve's nodding in agreement.
They continue sharing stories and Peggy adds her own anecdotes, talking about her 'troublesome youth' as her mum would call it.
She's about to go into detail on how her and Michael accidentally got stuck on a factory conveyor belt at her father's factory when Steve's desk rings.
He ignores it, only wincing lightly before gesturing for Peggy to continue. She starts again and has only made it another minute before it rings again. Barnes looks at him curiously. But he just waves his hand "it's fine. Continue."
She waits till it stops ringing before starting up again. This time she makes it two minutes before it rings for a third time.
Barnes lunges towards it, picking it up, and in a perfect Steve impression, says, "Rogers."
He winces at whatever onslaught there is, but he doesn't get much before Steve's on his feet, yanking the phone away from him and slamming it down on the receiver.
"What the hell, Bucky!" Steve growls, "that's not your phone, and it's not funny."
Bucky looks at him in disbelief, "why is Howard calling you here at work?"
"None of your business."
"He called earlier too." Peggy adds before thinking. She realizes her mistake instantly. Steve's eyes turn to her, showing utter betrayal and Barnes' shows incredulity.
"That's who you've been ditching me for?" Barnes' face gets red, "rich boy Howard? What my poor Brooklyn ass isn't good enough for you anymore?"
"Bucky, that's not what this is!"
"Then what is it!" He shouts, "have you been spending time with Howard?"
"I mean, yeah… he's my friend!"
"I'm your friend too!" Barnes growls, "Or I thought I was." He shoves away from Steve's desk, "what is Howard calling you for? Why did I hear him say something about servers and cameras?" Steve stiffens and Bucky notices it, "what, were you going to some fancy restaurant with him? His face in the tabloids isn't enough? You want yours there too?"
Peggy watches as Steve's face goes blank, throat and jaw tight. "Yep."
"Yep?" Barnes bellows, "yep!? I've been following you around, just trying to get something, trying to understand why you've stopped hanging out with me and I find out it's because you're chasing fame and girls with Howard Stark? And all you have to say is, 'yep!?'"
Anguish is there and gone on Steve's face, "yep."
"Screw you." Barnes snarls, grabbing his bag and shoving it on his shoulder. He's out the door and gone before Peggy can really process what just happened.
There's a long second of silence before she speaks, "he may be too blind with rage to see that you're lying, but I'm not."
Steve turns to her, stabbing his finger in her direction, "I'm not sure why you think you can just insert yourself into this situation!" He says angrily, "I'm sorry if I gave the impression that I asked for your opinion!" He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose right under his glasses. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean— I shouldn't have yelled. There's just… a lot on my plate and I can't—" he swallows thickly, jaw clenched. "I just can't. I have to go."
He's gone too. And she's left standing there, papers and takeout surrounding her. The only indication that this whole thing hadn't been some awful nightmare.
—-
The next week is icy. Barnes and Steve don't speak. And she keeps to her task at hand. Not letting herself get distracted. Morita sends her an email and she cringes at the subject line.
Subject: Fight?
Carter,
I've tried asking Bucky and Steve, no response, what the hell is going on?
Morita
But she remembers Steve's sharp words and hurt expression.
Subject: Sorry
Sorry, none of my business. :(
PC
She sends it and doesn't look over at Morita's desk. She just gets back to work, researching the agencies that have funded Schmidt's political journeys through the years.
—
She sees Barnes start to glance at Steve more. Sometimes in annoyance, sometimes in frustration, but always with a hint of sadness. And she realizes that it's longing. He misses his best friend.
In those moments, she glances over to Steve to see if he notices, or even to watch him and see if the feelings are mutual.
But Steve's eyes never leave his desk. Shoulders and back rigid and tense.
She looks back to Barnes who's angrily staring at the folders she'd given him yesterday. One shifts and drops to the ground and something about it makes her pause.
She glances back to Steve to realize that it's been almost two weeks since she's seen Steve knock anything over. She doesn't know why that's important. Doesn't understand why her brain presents that information to her now. But something about it must be important.
She stares angrily at her own reports. What the hell is she missing?
—-
Three days later, the city is abuzz with the latest news.
The vigilante struck in broad daylight.
It's not that his actions have always been in the dead of night. But he usually used or waited for at least dusk to work.
Another MO change.
She and Barnes gather their things after Phillips gets the call. They race out of the building and hail a cab, since it's further away and Phillips wants them there quickly.
They pay their fare and hop out, catching the police line and slipping through the gathered crowd towards Dugan.
They catch his eye and he nods, making his way to them.
"What happened?" Barnes asks, notepad out.
"Guy walked into this jewelry store. Held a gun to the clerks head, demanded all the cash and jewelry on hand. Clerk and the one customer caught inside start packing it all into the canvas bag he brought. But the clerk manages to hit the silent alarm. So they're packing it up, but the clerk drags it out, hoping the police will arrive. But the police don't arrive." He gives Barnes a knowing look.
"The vigilante?" Even though that's why they've been called. They know he showed up, "did they see him?"
"Well, hard to knock out the lights when it's the sun. So yeah, apparently our guy shows up, knocks out the thief, and leaves in less than a minute or two."
"So they saw him!" Peggy gasps, "what's their description?"
Dugan sighs, then laughs, "you won't believe me when I tell you they're not talking."
A pause.
Barnes tilts his head. "Excuse me?"
Dugan gets closer, tilting his head towards them. "They're telling us they couldn't really see him. That he was tall, and wearing a ball cap and sunglasses."
"And you think… he wasn't?"
Dugan shrugs his shoulders, "this guy has gained a really loyal following wherever he goes. Barnes, you remember this neighborhood?"
Barnes glances around, confused for a second before his eyes widening, "oh shit, is this the neighborhood with the—"
Dugan nods, "yep. The very same. Guess who's sister runs this jewelers shop?"
"Oh shit." Barnes growls, "so you think they saw him and they're keeping a lid on it?"
Dugan nods, "that's my guess. They were really evasive when we asked about a description."
"I'm sorry," Peggy cuts in, voice filled with disbelief, "you're saying they're keeping his identity a secret because of goodwill? I'm obviously missing a piece of this story."
"Hold on," Barnes says, "I'll fill you in in a minute," he turns back to Dugan, "what about the thief? He got a description for us?"
"Nope." Dugan replies, "just that the guy was tall and strong."
"Great." Barnes huffs, "real helpful."
"If Phillips hears that they know something that they're not saying he's going to be relentless about questioning them."
"The police are too." Dugan says somberly, "I'm not the only officer who thinks they're hiding something. They're not going to let this go."
Peggy holds up her hands, notepad crinkling, "hold on," she huffs, "you're telling me this is the very first time he's ever stopped a crime in daylight and been seen?" They look at her in confusion and she sighs, "you're saying, whoever this man is, has a network. People who would keep his secret willingly?" They tilt their heads in unison, considering this and nodding to the affirmative. "So wouldn't it be plausible to say that more people have seen this vigilante and could describe him, but don't because of their 'loyalty?'" When they just stare at her and don't speak she turns to Dugan, "is this the very first crime stopped in daylight attributed to the vigilan—-" She stops, her voice cutting off. "Wait, you said the clerk tripped the silent alarm." He nods, "so… our vigilante came because of the alarm?"
Dugan's brow furrows, "No, he came bec—" He stops, eyes going wide, "holy mackerel, he's got a police scanner!"
"Or," Peggy adds, "he is police. We've discussed the possibility before."
Barnes is writing furiously, as Peggy and Dugan begin discussing all angles and possibilities.
"But wait, back to what Carter was saying. Are there other crimes out there that he's stopped in daylight and we just don't know about?"
Dugan looks at him seriously and is silent even as his radio chirps. "You know…" he shakes his head. "Bout a month ago, some guy was knocking off a liquor store, We got called in, but by the time we got there the owner just waved us off. He told us that the guy had been knocked out by a customer but that the customer had left when we he was tying the guy up." Dugan smiles, shaking his head in disbelief, "I almost feel stupid. You know who runs that liquor store?"
Barnes shakes his head. "The brother of the girl who's kid plays at that community basketball court where the lights got fixed."
Barnes throws up his hands, "you're tellin' me there could be dozens of people who know what this guy looks like and they ain't saying nothin?" He slams his notepad against his thigh, "we've been after this guy for over 5 years and they might even know his damn name!"
Dugan chuckles, "here I was thinking the vigilante was just at the right place, right time, and now I'm wondering how many crimes he's helped out at that we just thought were good samaritans."
They stand there, watching the workers clear broken glass from one of the cases that had gotten smashed.
"Dugan, you think you could compile a list or Good Samaritan stops? Maybe we cross reference the ones in the communities that we know the vigilante's been active in. Then…." He gets a frown on his face, serious, "we start asking questions, not as reporters. We go in sorta undercover, try to see if they'll give details."
"Barnes…" Peggy interjects, "I thought… Wouldn't revealing his identity hurt his cause? Do we want him stopped?"
They blink at her and she watches as their shoulders drop. "I guess you're right. But maybe we can find out and not write about it."
She laughs, "for curiosity's sake?"
He nods, "call me the cat."
Dugan guffaws as she wrinkles her nose, "that was a terrible joke."
Barnes laughs, "yeah well, the last couple-a weeks haven't been so funny. I'm getting rusty." His face sombers as he looks to Dugan, "you uh, you hear from Steve recently?"
"He did his monthly call to my niece, checking up on her, dropped off that birthday present he did for my sister's husband. Other than that I haven't heard from him."
A solemn nod is all Barnes gives in response.
Peggy flips her notebook closed, "okay, you'll call us if anything pops up?"
"Cameras?" Barnes asks, "you check those?"
"Yep. Wiped."
"Okay, we'll catch you later."
They wave their farewells and leave the scene.
—-
They're walking back into the office when Peggy remembers. "Wait, you said you'd fill me in?"
He nods, "oh yeah, yeah, uh—" he rubs at his eyes, sipping the coffee they'd stopped for. "Maybe 2 years ago, an active branch of this neo-nazi group sprouted in that neighborhood." Peggy's eyes widen in disbelief as he continues. "They started harassing everybody who they felt didn't match their 'perfect ideal'. But for some reason they really started picking on this one guy who ran the homeless shelter. Apparently they didn't like that he was 'enabling' them to stay homeless. They burned down his house, but got away with it because there was no proof it was them, even though everyone knew it was. Next thing we know, all of them start disappearing, and then reappearing a day later, confessing to their crime. Their lawyers tried to plead insanity or argue that they'd been 'scared into confessing' a crime they didn't do. But after each one was rounded up and interrogated, they passed psych tests and were arrested. And, last but not least, a huge deposit was made to the homeless shelter, and they ended up being able to renovate the place and add an apartment for the guy to live in. His sister is the one who owns that little jewelry shop."
"He's rich too?" Peggy asks, shaking her head.
"I dunno where the money came from. It was listed as an anonymous donation. Couldn't be traced."
"And Phillips' wants to nail this guy's head to the wall, why? If we expose him, then he'll be arrested and all the work he's doing will stop."
Barnes shrugs, "like I said. Professional curiosity."
"BARNES! CARTER!"
They look up, having just entered the bullpen. "Sir?"
"My office. NOW!"
They give each other a wary glance. She looks over to see Steve at his desk, hunched over and not looking their way.
They walk into his office and he slams his door shut. "I'm confused about which part of acquitted, you both don't understand?"
They instantly know what he's referring to. They hadn't told him about their article of choice yet, waiting until absolutely necessary to bring him in. Barnes' jaw clenches and she crosses her arms over her chest. "The part where he's getting away with his corruption shit because of paying the jury."
Phillips goes red, then deadly calm. "You have evidence for these claims?"
"We're working on it."
"How long have you been researching this?"
Peggy speaks this time, "a while."
"Why?"
"Sir, I know you think the vigilante is a menace. But you have to admit that he's never been wrong. Every corruption case he's brought up has been proven true. Except this one."
"So. He screwed up."
"No," Barnes says quickly, "I don't think so. I think he got too close to the right people. The powerful people. This wouldn't be taking down some low-life car jacker, or even an annoyingly handsy government aide. This is a United States Senator. This is big time and big news. I've looked at the evidence that was included in the case the vigilante left. It's solid reporting. A well executed cased for his imprisonment. But where is he now?" Barnes stabs a finger onto the desk, "he's sitting on Capitol Hill talking about the 'good of the country'. That's some bullshit right there. He needs to be brought down."
"Yeah, well he and his security don't like that you've been poking through his files."
"Excuse me?" Peggy gapes.
"Got a call from his head of security. They've gotten a lot of dings from our servers. They want us to back off."
They look at each other, grins spreading wide on their faces, "Phillips, you gotta see that for what it is! They're threatened! He is guilty!"
There's a long silence as Phillips considers them, his eyes boring into them so deeply Peggy almost squirms, almost.
"You better not be barking up the wrong tree, Barnes. I better see an article so tight-knit my grandmother would be impressed you hear me?" They're nodding their heads like enthusiastic school children, "and he needs to be nailed with something else than what he was acquitted for! I don't want a defamation of character lawsuit on my hands, understood?"
They stand and salute, "yes, sir!" They chorus, bouncing out of his office, chattering their disbelief that Schmidt would be so brazen to try to get them to stop digging.
"He said he knew how to smoke out a rat." Barnes crows, "looks like he was wrong! He hasn't found the vigilante and he's not getting us to back down, no way!"
Peggy smiles, perching on her desk, "Monty!" The Brit pops his head up, "we need you're help when you've got a moment!"
He nods, setting his stuff aside and coming over. Barnes looks at her curiously, but she just motions for him to wait.
"What's the flutter?" Monty asks, eyeing them curiously.
"You've got connections in the business world right?" She asks.
"Of course."
"What if we needed to be back tracking through business dealings, and—" she looks over "Jones! Come here!"
The man joins them and Peggy starts again, "listen, Barnes and I have been cleared to dig into Schmidt. We know he's dirty, but we have to prove it. And we have to prove it outside Double Jeopardy. So we need fresh dirt."
Barnes leans against the desk, getting more excited, "Carter's right, now that we have full approval, we have to make this SSR's biggest article ever. Everyone who helps gets a byline. I'm talking front page 3-inch title letters. We're going to bring this dirtbag down."
"How can we help?" Jones asks excitedly.
"First, we need coffee." Barnes says, and Peggy laughs,
"Barnes we just had coffee!"
He waves at her, "yeah but now we need more. I can tell there's a time bomb on this article. We need to work fast before Schmidt tries to cut our legs off from under us. And I want Angie's cold brew, who's making the run?"
"I will," Gabe says with a grin, taking off without waiting for their agreement.
Monty laughs, "guy has got it bad for her."
They chuckle and then settle in, ignoring the rules and shoving their desks together. When Jones returns, Barnes stands and gets their attention. "Whatever other articles you're writing get buried. I know you have to put something out each day, that's fine. But this is priority one." They begin going over each piece of information the vigilante had given, and then all the research they've done since. Monty starts contacting his business contacts, seeing if he can get leads of funding discrepancies and under the table contracts. Gabe works with his embassy contacts, trying to find new or different areas that Schmidt might have a hand in with the foreign factories issues. Both Peggy and Barnes bury themselves into research, calling people who have worked for Schmidt in the past and trying to garner information from them.
They come across a lot of disgruntled former employees which bolsters their confidence that they're on the right trail.
"Did you guys know Schmidt had facial surgery?" Barnes says, looking at a file one of the past employees had sent in, "not that it's important for the article, but apparently he used to have major skin discoloration and he had his bones shaved down on his skull." He shudders, "someone said he used to have really sharp facial bones, made him look like a skeleton."
Gabe wrinkles his nose. "The guy already creeps me out, and you're saying he used to be creepier? No thank you."
They get back to work.
—
Peggy is glad the article is distracting Barnes. But she still notices that whenever something exciting comes across his desk, his eyes flick to Steve first, before shifting to one of them to share the news.
"Just talk to him," Peggy urges one day when Steve had gone to the bathroom. "Try to."
"I did." Barnes says dejectedly. "Went to his apartment and tried to apologize."
"And?"
"And he said there was nothing to apologize for. That I was right and he wasn't a good friend so we should stop trying."
Her jaw drops in surprise, "what? No he didn't."
He nods solemnly, "but…" He looks to Steve's empty seat. "I could tell he was lying. He's really going through something and it's making him push me away, and I just want to know why. Why won't he tell me?"
"You know him far better than I." She says softly, "has he done something like this before?"
Barnes thinks, scrubbing at his eyebrow with his right knuckle, "I mean… to this extent? No. He's never wanted to stop being friends." He yawns, sipping their third cup of coffee for the day, "there was this one time…" he blinks, "we were 13, just before he moved, and he started hanging out with me less after school, and… and I tried to figure out why. So I followed him one day. Found out he had started working at some shady factory down by the docks."
Peggy looks at him with narrowed eyes, "shady how?"
"Real creepy guys. The kinda guys who would hire a tiny asthmatic 13 year old to work in a smoke filled factory to make cheap uniforms." She frowns and he nods in agreement. "I got angry and pulled him outta there fast. He and I argued for a long time, only come to find out he'd taken the job to try to help his ma so they wouldn't have to lose their apartment. He'd told her he was doing an after school art program and when she found out the truth, she was so furious at him for putting himself in danger like that, but…" he sighs, tipping his chair back, "not much later they did end up having to move. When I asked him why he didn't just tell me, he looked me dead in the eye and said, 'you woulda tried to stop me.'" He looks at her, a thoughtful glance in his eye, "so maybe… whatever it is he's doing, he knows I wouldn't like it."
Peggy wrinkles her nose, "like what? An opioid addiction? Prostitutes?"
He laughs, "Steve? Hell no—" then he frowns, "I mean, not the Steve I know. I heavily doubt it. He'd never. If it's something I don't like that usually means—" He grimaces, "usually it means something that would get him in trouble or… more likely he's doing something that could get him hurt."
She shakes her head, "like what?"
Barnes just looks at her sadness clear in his eyes, "I don't know. I feel like I barely know him anymore."
They glance at his empty desk and then get back to work.
—-
The bullpen's quiet when Phillips' phone rings. They look up, as is tradition, wondering which one of them will get called to go somewhere.
Instead, after they hear the slam of the receiver, he pops his head out and grins, "Barnes, Carter, Jones, Falsworth, keep up the damn good work. All your poking of the bear is getting the Schmidt's people very riled! They're threatening defamation and we haven't published a single word! Whatever you're digging. Through, keep at it. We'll nail this son of a bitch to the ground!" His door slams and they share high fives and excited chatter. But Peggy feels a shift and suddenly Barnes falls quiet. She glances up to see Steve right behind her. She startles back, not having heard him approach which is unusual.
"What Steve?" He says, a frown on his face.
"I told you to drop that story." He's mad, face pulled down and jaw tight.
Barnes scoffs, "unless you aged 50 years and changed your name to Phillips, you ain't my boss."
"Bucky."
"Steve."
She watches as Steve glances around at the audience they have. And she feels compelled to speak, "do you two always have these dramatic friendship arguments at work? Or has it been just since I started?"
"Drama queens." Hodge calls from the corner, laughing, "both of 'em."
Steve looks up and before Peggy can blink, he picks up one of the yellow stress balls that resides on Jones' desk and chucks it at him, hard. It slaps against his forehead and tumbles to the ground.
"Shut up, Hodge. No one gives a shit about your opinion."
Steve seems to miss the fact that they're all staring at him in shock when he looks back to Barnes, "if you ever really were my friend, then you'll trust me, and drop this."
She hears Morita choke out a gasp at the ultimatum and she knows the bullpen feels the same, but Barnes looks furious. "You don't get to play the friend card Steve. You've been an absentee friend at best and I don't owe you shit!"
She watches as Steve's face reels back and registers shock, and then sadness, only to settle on blank.
"You're right." He says in a flat tone. "My bad." He turns, grabs his coat and bag and leaves the bullpen, which sits in silence for almost a minute before Monty looks at the group in confusion.
"I'm sorry, who the bloody hell was that!?" He asks, "because I've known Steven for 6 years and that's not him."
But Barnes' face is still red and he's still fuming, "maybe it is. Maybe he's just a lying, two-faced punk."
"Yeah," Hodge pipes in, "he's an asshole."
Barnes whips around glaring at him, "I'm sorry, who the hell asked you, Gilmore. Shut the hell up!" Peggy hides a laugh behind her hand as the man grumbles and tries to act like he doesn't care with a big red welt on his forehead.
When Barnes turns back around, Monty leans in, "I know you're mad, but that would be an incredibly lengthy ruse for him to have been pretending all this time. What happened?"
She looks at Barnes, wondering how deep he'll divulge into his personal details. But he doesn't, just sighs and sinks into his chair. "No, it's not a ruse. Honestly… he just reminded me of how he used to be."
"Used to be?" Gabe asks.
"When we were kids. Steve was always riled about something. Guess I just haven't seen it for years."
"But what is he riled about?" Peggy asks, "because from what you've told me about him, he should be on our side, wanting to bring Schmidt down, so why doesn't he?"
Their heads slowly face Steve's empty desk. The question hanging heavily in the air.
—
It takes three more weeks. But they finally submit the article to Phillips. It covers the full front page, three inch title letters, just like Barnes predicted. A picture of Schmidt on the front page and the article detailing not only how they believe he paid off the jury, but how he's responsible for even more corruption than he was previously charged for.
As they wait for confirmation that it's gone to print, Phillips shakes each of their hands, which may as well have been hugs for how proud it made each of them. He'd gone over the article, the evidence, the information, the informants statements and every single detail with a fine toothed comb, making sure their article was airtight before he'd given his stamp of approval.
Now they sit, celebrating and waiting for the printer's confirmation. She's feeling delightfully proud of all their hard work when the elevator dings. She glances up, expecting it to maybe be the cleaners, only to gasp at the appearance of Senator Johann Schmidt himself. She stands, hand gripping Barnes' arm to get his attention.
The room falls silent as he approaches, a small group behind him. Peggy studies them, committing them to memory. Two men who appear to be security, dressed all in black with guns in hip holsters and ear pieces. A short man, who looks half nervous and half vicious with small circular spectacles stands on his left, hands behind his back.
"Good evening." Schmidt says, an unnerving smile on his face. "My name is—"
"We know who you are." Phillips says gruffly, not intimidated at all, "what the hell are you doing in my bullpen?"
Schmidt doesn't react to his vehemence. "I have many, many different sources throughout this city, and word has come to my attention that you are intending to print an article about me that is full of lies."
"That's debatable." Monty says, a raised eyebrow on his face, "I'm sure you'd like us to think they're lies, we know the truth."
"No, you see, you know nothing." He says, his grin fading, "because when I get through proving that you're passing information to the vigilante and bypassing the proper justice system for your own monetary gain, no one will believe this rag of a newspaper."
Even Phillips looks stunned, "run that past me again? Who is bypassing who?"
Schmidt's face shows annoyance, "come now, don't be dull, I'm sure you don't want your time wasted, neither do I, so let's bypass the lies and get to the truth, you're reporters right? You should be able to do that."
"Whatever load of crap you're selling, buddy." Phillips' grouses, "we're not buying. You don't get to walk away from the garbage you've been peddling as a government official just by trying to undermine this paper's integrity."
"I'm not trying," he says flatly, "I can prove it."
"Prove what?"
"That you've been peddling information. That you've been working in tandem with the vigilante to raise your paper sales."
"And how are you going to prove that lie?"
The small man steps forward, "I have created an algorithm that tracks searches, and your paper's computers always have had searches on things before the vigilante strikes." He says firmly, "not the little things like the burglaries or the car thieves, but anything to do with public officials or government issues. Your paper searches it, and suddenly you send the vigilante out to do your dirty work. And of course, since you know it's going to happen, you get first dibs on the story, always printing the story half the time before anyone else knows it's occurred. Not to mention your collusion with Srgt. Dugan down at the precinct. He always gives your newspaper a call first. Another reason to believe you are aiding and abetting this criminal vigilante. With the police under your payroll, of course they're not catching him, they're allowing him to run rampant on the city!"
Peggy is stunned, and so is everyone else. There's a minute of silence until Phillips steps closer. He's not young, in any way shape or form, but Peggy watches as he transforms before her eyes, shoulders squaring and face firm, reminding them that at one point he'd been a higher up in the Army. Someone who had commanded soldiers instead of reporters, "I don't know who you think you are, but those lies you just spewed will be your last. That article is going to print, whether you want it to or not. We'll let the public decide who is trustworthy."
"I'm afraid I've already stopped the article. And I won't leave until you give up the person who has been funneling information to the vigilante."
"You can't do that!" Barnes growls, pointing at Schmidt, "it's you who's colluding with people to get your way! We will get that story out one way or another!"
"Not before we publish our own story about the downfall of the SSR." Schmidt snarls back, "your scum of a newspaper won't be able to rub two nickels together when I'm through with it!"
"You can't prove any of what you're saying!" Phillips' bellows. "I don't care what 'algorithm' you think you've made! I don't trust you, and no one else will either with all your mumbo jumbo!"
"We have proof." The small man says, "here." He hands over a thick folder and Jones snatches it. He lays it on the desk and they start looking through. Although most seems to be code and equations that Peggy can't understand. Monty's face and the Phillips' tells her that it's not good.
He points at Schmidt, "stay there."
The man raises his hands, "I'm not leaving until I've received justice."
Phillips' waves them into his office. "Spill." He orders, glaring murderously at them.
"Sir," Monty starts, "there isn't anything to spill! We didn't do any of this!"
"I don't trust Schmidt as far as I can throw him, but look," he points to the documents, "this isn't a lie, this isn't made up. Someone has been using our work computers to search this stuff up!" He stabs a finger at each one of them, "who the hell has been in contact with the vigilante!"
All of them look at each other hopelessly, expecting someone to fess up, but no one does.
And suddenly… realization settles onto her shoulders. She gasps, and turns to Barnes only to see his face going translucent too and she knows he knows.
"Oh shit!" He shouts, standing up, sending his chair stumbling back. His palm slams so hard onto his forehead that she knows it must have hurt.
They look at each other and it comes out into a whisper, "Steve." They say at the same time.
Three pairs of eyes whip to theirs, and Phillips' face gets incredibly dark, "you wanna say that again?"
Barnes looks at Phillips and his face is just pure shock, "Steve's been feeding information to the vigilante. It has to be him."
"Explain."
They do, telling him how Steve has been acting out of sorts, especially since Schmidt's acquittal. "He must…" Barnes sinks against Phillips' desk. "This makes so much sense actually. I should have known he would never give up—" he glances at his hands, "I feel dumb now actually."
Peggy sits in silence, going over every conversation and every interaction with Steve.
And it all fits. He must be the one feeding information to the vigilante.
"Call him." Phillips orders.
Barnes picks up the phone on Phillips' desk, dialing a number. He waits and waits. No answer. He hangs up and looks at Peggy. They both give a look and speak at the same time. "Howard."
He dials another number and waits. On the third ring, someone answers.
"Howard?— Yeah, It's Bucky—" she can hear someone speaking but Barnes cuts him off, "Howard, stop. We know." There's a deafening silence on the other side, then Peggy hears a blasé know what? "That Steve's been feeding information to the vigilante. Is he there with you?"
There's a silence in the room as Howard must be speaking on the other side.
"Do you know where he is? I tried calling his apartment—" Howard must speak, then Barnes sighs, "okay, if you hear from him, send him to the SSR."
He hangs up. "He wasn't there."
Phillips looks ready to punch a wall. "He and I are going to have a word when he gets here. But until then, we need to have a united front against Schmidt. I don't want them knowing we've found the rat."
Peggy winces, hearing Steve be called a rat doesn't sit well with her, but she doesn't speak out. Not wanting to incur Phillips' wrath.
Barnes looks torn, his face flitting between emotions so fast she can hardly keep up.
Jones is the one who speaks. "Let's say that we don't know. It's not one of us, and that we don't believe these reports. But we'll agree to hold the article til we get to the bottom of it. But—" he flicks his eyes towards the door, "we run the article anyways. If they try to come for us after, it will look like they're trying to discredit us."
Phillips shakes his head, "if anyone finds out about Steve, or believes what they write, the SSR will be done for."
"So you wanna withhold the truth for the sake of your job?" Barnes says sharply, his eyes on the desk in front of him, "because almost two months ago, Peggy and I decided that writing this article and publishing the truth was worth losing our jobs over. He's evil. Bad news. He has to go. Even if we go with him."
Phillips looks at Barnes, and Peggy swears there's a hint of pride beneath the gruff exterior. He doesn't respond, but strides past them out of his office.
"Schmidt," they hear him call.
"Done with your little tête-à-tête?"
"We don't know that we believe these reports." Phillips says flatly, "and even if we did, we don't know who the leak would be. But in the spirit of honest reporting, like you said you wanted, "we'll hold the article about you until we figure out the truth. If we discover the leak, we'll fire them and turn them over to the law. And if you're lying, well… we'll make sure all of New York knows. Are we clear?"
"I'm not leaving until—"
"Barnes." Phillips snaps, cutting Schmidt off, "call the police to escort Mr. Schmidt here off our premises, unless he plans on having his security here hold us at gunpoint?"
There's a silence and then Schmidt's voice is sharp and steely as he responds. "This is not the end of this. I have a belief that you know who your leak is, and I will not rest until he and the vigilante are brought to justice."
"Whatever you say, Schmidt." Phillips responds in a bored tone.
They listen as the little group leaves, and don't move until Phillips opens the door. "They're gone."
"What the hell." Jones says, "you think Steve's been feeding this guy information this whole time?"
Barnes' voice is hoarse as he responds, "I mean… It makes sense. The timing is about right. The vigilante was only doing his stuff a bit before we started working here. And he definitely got more organized once we started working at the SSR."
Monty looks at Phillips, "I know you're mad. But you have to admit it's impressive."
Phillips looks sharply at Monty. "I don't have to admit anything."
Monty huffs a laugh, "you don't fool me Phillips, I've been working here longer than anyone. Steve has been right under your nose, passing information to help the city for 5 years. And not a single person was the wiser. That's impressive."
"That vigilante has been a thorn in my side for half a decade, Falsworth! Rogers could have told me who it was at any time! He knew how much we were after him!"
"Maybe he doesn't actually know who he is." Peggy supplies, "maybe it's an anonymous relationship?"
That gives the group pause. "I guess we just wait for him to tell us himself." Jones supplies. "Now we need to get this printed."
And for the first time that Peggy can remember. Phillips' grins. "Call our secondary printers and put the rush on it."
Jones nods, picking up the phone and Peggy and Barnes sit quietly as he orders the print.
—-
They don't leave the office. Monty goes to some late night diner and brings back a hoard of food. They wait, hoping for a call from Steve or for him to appear, but he doesn't.
—-
Peggy startles awake, a crick in her neck as she had fallen asleep laying on one of the desks. She looks up at the noise that had awoken her. Phillips stands with a stack of the papers in his hands. He clears his throat and throws one her way.
"It's a new day in New York City." He says with an eyebrow raised, "let's see what hell gets raised."
She looks at the front page, feeling a thrill at the byline that carries her name along with the others.
She looks over at Barnes, but he's just staring blankly at the ceiling. He'd been incredibly quiet the whole night. She's certain he's furious at Steve. But she also thinks there's a hint of relief there. That Steve wasn't ditching him for another person… well… not in the way he had been thinking.
Hodge arrives, looking at the early morning crew in confusion. "Something I miss?"
They ignore him.
"We should turn on the news." Monty says, "we hit the newsstand in less than an hour. I want to hear what sort of garbage Schmidt starts to spew."
Jones walks over and flips on the tv in the corner. Lowering the volume and keeping an eye on it.
They wait and Gabe makes a coffee run. He's just gotten back when the news story breaks on the TV.
The Sentinel Star Register has published a damning article about Senator Schmidt this morning. This comes in the wake of his surprising and unexpected acquittal just a few months ago.
"Turn it up!" Monty calls, mouth full of muffin.
Peggy rolls over, turning it up as the reporter continues.
—-controversy surrounding the unusual nature of how Schmidt came under fire in the first place. The vigilante that has been causing a ruckus on both sides of the law. Are we to trust someone who won't show their face? But on the flip side, isn't justice blind? More when we come back.
Jones lets out a whoop and they all drag chairs around, gathering in front of the screen. The news reporter has just come back on when the elevator dings.
Their eyes snap to it and Steve appears behind the doors. Peggy blanches at the dark circles under his eyes and how tired he looks.
Phillips appears at his office door, "Rogers!" He bellows, "tell me they're lying! Tell me you haven't been leaking information to that menace!"
Behind his glasses Steve just blinks slowly, "Sorry sir."
She watches as Phillips' face turns redder than a tomato and he stabs a finger at Steve, "you're a disgrace to this city! And you're fired! Pack your crap and get out!"
"Yes, sir."
It's such an empty response that she watches Phillips' face shift, concern and curiosity flashing across it. "Why, Steve? Why would you help him? Why not bring him to justice?"
"Justice for what?" Steve looks up and his eyes stare past Phillips out the windows to the city where the sun is just starting to peak over the buildings.
"Justice for the people! He hasn't been following our laws! Our enforcement procedures! This isn't an anarchy, Rogers!" He bellows, "he can't just go around doing whatever the hell he wants!"
"Okay." Steve turns to his desk, and starts collecting his things. Phillips is staring at him in disbelief. Then Peggy watches as something she can't exactly describe crosses it. Something like… understanding.
Barnes walks over quickly and Peggy wants so badly to join them, to hear what they're saying, but she resists, pretending to listen to the reporter on television as she keeps her eyes flicking back and forth.
Barnes is talking urgently, gesticulating wildly with his hands, and she watches as Steve's shoulders hunch further and further and his head lowers. Barnes is holding his arms open in a 'why' gesture and Peggy wonders if it's a 'why not tell me?' Or a 'why do it in the first place?'. She hopes it's the first one...
—We've reached out to Schmidt's PR team, but have received no response.
The reporter is saying, catching Peggy's attention once again.
—interested in his response of course to the serious and incredibly detailed accusations mentioned in the Register. We'll be following this story as it progresses.
She looks back over to see Steve stuffing things in a cardboard box. At that she can't stay silent. She gets up, walking over and steps besides Barnes. "What are you going to do now?"
"Find a new job." He says quietly, not looking up from packing his things. She watches as his sketching pencils disappear into his box.
"Are you.. are you still going to be in contact with the vigilante?"
"You could have just told me!" Barnes interjects, and it makes Peggy think her earlier hope had been correct, "I would have backed you up! Hell, I would've wanted to meet him!"
"Same." Peggy adds, "no matter what Phillips' thinks, I think whoever he is is doing amazing things, would you tell him that?"
Steve doesn't answer, just shrugs noncommittally.
"Come over tonight." Bucky says, "I want to hear about him, I wanna know—"
He's cut off by the elevator dinging. Peggy's eyes lift, expecting to see Thompson, but stumbles back to see Schmidt exit the elevator doors, security guards behind him and a gun held up in front of him.
He fires one shot into the ceiling, causing everyone to jump and scramble backwards.
"Let's try this again, shall we!" He says with a vicious expression on his face. His teeth are bared and he steps closer to them, gun now held towards the ground. But Peggy is not fooled, he's a firecracker ready to pop.
"Now that you've printed your little piece of trash article, I suppose there's no more reason to stand on ceremony!" He points the gun at Phillips and smiles, "tell me who your leak is, right. Now."
Phillips crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against his dorm frames as if he's about to ask who is taking the lunch orders, "no can do."
Schmidt cocks the gun, "and why ever not?"
"There isn't a leak."
Peggy almost blinks at how easily the lie slips from his lips. Not even a hesitation or a glance towards Steve.
Schmidt fires the gun, putting a bullet close to Phillips' head in the wall. Everyone jolts again, but Phillips doesn't even blink.
"Like I said before," Phillips drawls. "There isn't a leak."
Schmidt changes tactics, pointing the gun at Jones and cocking it again, "what about now?"
She feels the air shift as Steve shoves past her. "Stop." He says, "stop."
Schmidt turns to him, "and who are you? You weren't here last night."
"I'm the one you're looking for." Barnes makes a move to step forward, but she grabs his arm and pulls him back when one of the security guards points his gun at him.
"Oh?" Schmidt replies, moving his hand and pointing the gun at Steve, "So you're the leak, huh? I want a name."
"Steve Rogers."
Barnes makes a growling noise in his throat when Schmidt laughs, "not your name you imbecile. I want the name of the vigilante."
Steve's eyes flick around the room. "If I tell you, you'll leave, let these people go?"
"I will, except for you. You die."
"Okay." Steve agrees right at the same time that Barnes lurches forward and shouts, "What! No!"
"Rogers." Phillips says, walking forward, "we don't negotiate with terrorists."
Schmidt huffs a laugh, "we'll agree to disagree on who the real terror if this city is! When I get through with the vigilante, he'll be singing a different tune, if he has a tongue left to use."
"You expect to just walk away from here?" Phillips asks, "after firing a gun twice in this building, you think the police are just going to look the other way?"
Schmidt laughs, "I think you're mistaken." He walks over to Steve and shoves the muzzle of the gun against his chest, making Peggy go rigid in fear, " from what I heard, a disgruntled employee of yours, named Steve Rogers, was furious when he was fired for leaking information to the menace of a vigilante, and came back to teach you all a lesson!" He turns to Monty, "thankfully you were there to stop him. You wrestled the gun out of his hand, fired the kill shot, and saved your colleagues." Schmidt's hands go wide, as if he's just told the most pleasant story. "Fascinating tale, no?"
Monty looks frozen in place and Barnes is breathing heavily, anger bubbling at the surface.
"I want a name." Schmidt growls at Steve, gun muzzle back against his chest.
"I already told you." He says in a dark tone, and "Steve Rogers."
"Are you some type of idiot!" Schmidt snarls, waving the gun wildly, "I want the name of—" Steve moves, quick as a flash, catching Schmidt's jaw with his fist, ducking the bullet that Schmidt fires and sweeping his leg, knocking Schmidt to the ground, where he wrestles the gun out of Schmidt's hand and points it towards him. When Steve rises, it's not a Steve she's seen before. He stands tall, shoulders impossibly wide and straight, head held high and he peels the glasses off his face, tossing them aside and glaring at the man on the ground. The bullpen is silent, as Steve speaks calmly, "tell your men to drop their weapons, now."
Peggy can't see Schmidt's face anymore, but she can hear the spluttering. Steve shifts and she realizes he must be stepping on some part of Schmidt. "Now!" He barks, "or you want to be shot in the same places you shot me?!"
She hears Barnes choke and she feels the gasp of surprise leave her lips. Her mind is splitting, half trying to follow what's happening, half trying to rewind the last months of her life to understand how she could have been so oblivious.
"Drop them." Schmidt orders, fury in his voice. The two guards set their weapons on the ground. "Jones, Monty, grab those." He commands. And it's a voice she hasn't heard before. Deep and commanding and assured. No hint of the nervous and shy man she's known the past few months.
An act. She bristles in hurt and indignation that it had all been an act.
"Tie them up. Phillips, would you call the police? I'm sure they're looking for this guy."
"You don't have anything on me but lies!" Schmidt howls, "I'll ensure you never see the light of day aga—"
Steve steps harder, cutting off his words. "First off, say hello." He taps at his tie. "You're on candid camera." Then he holds the gun closer to Schmidt's face, "I may not have been able to stop you the first time, but understand this. There will be no second acquittal. Your power of the jury and the supreme court are dead." Then Steve reels back, slamming his fist against Schmidt's head and knocking him out.
He steps back, hauling Schmidt's body up and setting it in a chair as if he weighed no more than a doll.
"Anyone have any zip ties?"
They scramble, finding some in the maintenance closet and getting all three tied up.
Once that's finished Steve steps back, putting distance between them. "Sorry," he says calmly, "I'll be out of your hair and out of the city within the day." He turns, grabbing his bag and box before anyone has the brain power to speak.
"Wait!" Barnes shouts, "wha— Steve, you can't just— I mean- What!" His jumbled exclamations sum up the room's emotions well, "It was… you?" And Barnes voice and face are full of hurt, "it was you the whole time?"
"The glass!" Peggy blurts out, getting their attention. "She points at Steve, "your leg, when it was cut! That wasn't a glass coffee table."
He winces, "nope. Sorry."
"YOU'VE BEEN SHOT!" Barnes bellows! "I can't even believe this! Wha—" his voice gets raspy, "Howard."
Steve blinks and then sighs, nodding.
"He's the one wiping the cameras?" Steve nods again, "and you?" Barnes asks, "you're… healed from being shot?"
"Stung like mad." Steve admits, "But yeah Buck. I'm fine. 'Member when you called Howard and asked why his parents weren't at the Valkyrie? They were helping pick bullets out of me. That's why I looked so bad that next day. After getting shot I had to jump through those damn windows and got cut up. Wasn't my favorite day."
Peggy looks up to Phillips who doesn't look near as mad as she expected. "You figured it out." She states, "didn't you?"
Phillips' nods, "never seen Roger's like this. Clicked in my mind seconds before Schmidt showed up."
Steve is still standing straight, head closer to the ceiling than she's ever seen it. "For what it's worth sir, I really am sorry for all the trouble."
"Hold on," Hodge says, finally getting up from where he'd ducked behind his desk, "we're gonna just sit here and believe that Rogers is the vigilante? No way, the guy's a bigger klutz than Dumbo, so he lands one good punch? There's no—"
He's cut off as Steve grabs the gun from where he set it on the desk, holds it in one hand and squeezes, crushing the metal into a ragged lump the shape of the inside of his fist.
He drops it with a clatter back onto the desk and then grabs a pencil and flicks it towards Hodge, making him flinch. But the pencil impales itself in the wall, behind his desk, shattering afterwards with the force from the impact.
Steve eyes him, waiting for him to say something else, but he doesn't. Steve turns back to Phillips. "I'll pay for the damages, they're my fault."
"No." Phillips grouses, "Schmidt'll pay for them. You however owe me a very long and detailed explanation."
"The police are on their way." Monty calls, hanging up the phone, "Dugan's coming."
Steve winces and Barnes tilts his head, "Did Dugan know?"
"No. He didn't."
Peggy leans forward, "did you help his niece to get on his good side?"
And the look of disbelief that crosses his face almost pains her, "No." He grinds out, "I didn't do it to benefit the vigilante if that's what you're asking."
She doesn't shrink under his glare. Even if she does feel the tiniest bit chastised inside.
Phillips waves him into his office and Barnes doesn't take no for an answer, forcing himself inside too.
The rest of them shamelessly gather outside the door and listen as Steve starts from the beginning.
They learn how he and Howard Stark had become friends in one of the science classes at their college. And how Howard had been working with some doctor to develop a sort of 'cure all'. Steve had volunteered for experiments since he had a lot to 'cure'.
She hears Barnes start to speak heatedly, only for Phillips to growl, 'shut up or get out'.
He goes quiet.
Then Steve explains how one day, Erskine, the doctor, had come racing into the lab with a breakthrough. They'd figured out a way to make the treatment stick and they tried it on Steve as soon as it was ready. She hears Steve's voice get sad.
"He helped save me from so many illnesses, and that night he was gone. A car accident on his way home. I never even got to thank him properly, or show him what I could do…" The men around her are quiet with wide eyes as Steve continues. "Howard ran all types of tests, but without Erskine's specific formula, which he'd never written down, he couldn't reproduce it. And half of the effects they didn't even anticipate. They had no idea the depth it would change me on a molecular level.
"But I couldn't waste it. It took awhile, but one day I saw some kid trying to mug an old lady and I stepped in. Something that would have gotten me flattened before, was now something I could do with ease. So I did. And it spiraled from there. Eventually I asked for Howard's help. He was more than happy to wipe camera's and help when I needed it."
Steve shares some specifics about how Howard and he worked out a system, adjusting as needed and changing locations and tactics when people, namely Barnes, got too close to the truth. "I did use work computers for research, and Howard had wiped those too, but Zola and he went head to head fighting for the records. Eventually Zola was—"
"Zola?" Phillips asks.
"One of Schmidt's lackeys, small guy—"
"Round glasses?"
"Yep. That's the one. He's a hell of a scientist and he is also a whiz on the computer. So eventually he found a way to trace the searches back here. I didn't know that till early this morning when I got back and Howard told me you guys had called. I promise I wasn't being sloppy." Steve says with a tired voice, "Howard's the smartest guy I know. He covered our tracks for so long, but…" his voice gets sharp, "with Schmidt we poked a bigger bear than we knew.
"When I first dumped Schmidt off at the city hall, I thought what evidence I placed there was the majority of it. But then a source we didn't expect to contact us did. And filled us in on the width and breadth of just how deep Schmidt's empire goes." She hears a chair shift, "Buck, it's why I was so adamant you drop the article. I learned just the lengths Schmidt had been willing to go to to rise to power. His dossier of 'accidental deaths' that follows him is a mile long. I was so worried you and Peg would be added to the list. I tried with Howard to work out another angle to nail him down, but after his acquittal, he and his network of illegal hackers worked tirelessly to try to catch me. They were hacking city cameras and accessing files on everyone in the city to try to find a lead."
She hears him sigh and his voice sounds so worn out, "he's insane. Certifiably, and I'm not surprised he showed up here with a gun to try to get his way. I'm just sorry I put all of you in danger. It won't happen again."
It's quiet as everyone processes everything they've just heard.
"Why the act?" Barnes asks quietly. "Why the glasses and all that other crap?"
"Easiest way to hide was in plain sight. I couldn't hide the change in my size from you, but… I could hide my abilities. So, glasses help obscure my face. Being clumsy made ev—"
"You've been faking being clumsy?" Barnes chokes out, "I'm such an idiot! I can't believe this! This whole time I thought I needed to protect you, the shy, clumsy, too nice guy and you're—" she hears a chair scrape and Barnes must stand. "Why, Steve. Why hide it from me?"
"Because Buck. You would have tried to stop me."
She's thrown back to that exact conversation.
"You don't know that." Barne shuffs.
"Actually I do. I can see you formulating some way to get me to stop right now."
"Are you?" Phillips cuts in. "Going to stop?"
"I have to." Steve sighs, "at least here in New York. Howard will need to get me a new name and—"
"Maybe if you hadn't been such a drama queen and shouted your name at Schmidt." Barnes grumbles. Steve laughs, and it catches Peggy off-guard how relieved it sounds.
"Sorry, Buck. Didn't have much time to think."
"Not that you'd think anyways." He huffs. "Never did before. Don't expect you to now."
"Anything else?" Phillips asks, "anything we should know?"
"I don't think so." Steve responds quietly. "Think that's about it."
"Well." Phillips says gruffly, "it's too bad that Steve Rogers had to move out of town unexpectedly." Peggy stiffens, as do the rest of the men surrounding the door. There's a weighted pause and she can almost feel Barnes' tension from here. "But it's nice to meet that identical twin brother of his, isn't it Barnes?"
Dual "Huhs?" Are heard before Phillips lets out an annoyed sigh, "Steve told me all about you. James Rogers was it? What is it about this office and the name James? I swear it's like a plague. Well, welcome aboard the SSR, Rogers. Sorry, we don't allow J names here really. So we'll have to call you Rogers." Realization starts to dawn on them at the game Phillips' is playing. "You think Howard Stark can help me with your employee paperwork?" Phillips asks, heavy insinuation in his tone, "I heard you're leaving a job at Stark Industries to work here?"
"Uh,—" Steve's voice starts, "Phillips, are you sure?"
"Rogers, I don't do anything I'm not sure of. Spmething your stupid brother knew all too well. So, are you accepting the recently vacated position or not?"
Steve lets out a surprised laugh, "I mean, yeah."
"Hmm, already smarter than your brother. Barnes, give the new guy a tour would you? And get out of my office."
The four of them scramble back trying to look nonchalant.
The door opens and Steve and Barnes exit, looking a bit flabbergasted. Peggy approaches slowly and extends a hand. "Hello, I'm Peggy Carter, Local beat."
Steve smiles at her, the first truly relaxed and happy smile she's seen, "James Rogers, apparently. Layout and Design."
"Nice to meet you, Rogers." She says softly, shaking his hand.
"I have so much to yell at you for." Barnes says, hand so his hips and eyes a thousand yards away, "I don't even know where to begin."
"I gotta call Howard." Steve says, "quickly if this is gonna work."
—-
It works.
With Schmidt in custody, crowing about the alleged vigilante, Steve Rogers, the police question Phillips lightly, who just informs them that they 'just missed him, he just moved'.
Dugan looks at Steve and smiles, "I don't think we've met yet." He says with a wide grin, "I'm Timothy Dugan."
"James Rogers."
"Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
—
Thompson arrives at work confused as hell. "But that's Steve." He says in annoyance as Barnes introduces Steve as James Rogers.
"No." Barnes says with a smug grin, "it's his twin brother."
"But—" Thompson starts before Hodge drags him over to their desks and he starts talking in low whispers.
"Do we need to worry about them?" Peggy asks, eyeing the two men.
"Nah." Barnes replies confidently. "They're too scared of Phillips." Then he glances over to Steve who's taking his stuff out of his box and placing it back on his desk, "and maybe now scared of him."
Peggy watches as Steve no longer hides or hunches. She walks over to where his glasses are on the ground. She picks them up and carries them to Steve.
"Your brother dropped these." She says teasingly.
He laughs, "don't need glasses. You can toss them."
"May I?" She asks, holding them, "I had quite the crush on your brother, so I'd like to keep this momento."
That causes him to look up, surprise blooming across his features, "you did?"
She blinks at him, taken aback by his reaction. "Of course I did. I told him so."
"No you didn't." He says adamantly.
"I very much did." She insists, "the night it all went to hell with Barnes. I told you I wanted to get to know you."
His mouth forms an 'o' and his cheeks heat, the first sign that he's not only the invincible vigilante, "I thought that was just you trying to figure out my secret."
She scoffs, "you think I was trying to seduce you for information?"
He blushes fiercely now, "No." he insists, "that's not what I meant. I just had no idea you were actually interested in me. I thought maybe—" his eyes flick to Barnes and then back down to his desk.
"No." She says softly. "Trust me when I admit that ever since that first lunch at the Valkyrie, I've hoped you would ask me out."
"Really?" True disbelief in his voice, "why?"
She laughs, "is it so hard to believe a woman would be interested in you?"
He shrugs, "I dunno, never took the time to think about it,"
"You must have dated?"
He shrugs again, ears tinging pink, "girls weren't exactly lining up to date a guy that could barely breathe right. And once this happened," he gestures to himself, "I just didn't have time with all the 'stuff'." He says with a wince, referencing his time as a vigilante, "figured it may not be in the cards for me."
"Why ever not?"
"Can't think of many girls who look forward to their boyfriends leading a double life they don't know about. Generally frowned upon."
She considers this, a smile slowly spreading across her face, "and, let's say, you did find a girl, who not only knew your secret, but encouraged it… what about then?"
He opens his mouth to respond, eyes looking at her in awe when an exclamation startles them both.
"Servers and cameras!" Barnes howls, slamming his fist against his forehead, "I'm such an idiot!" He glares at Steve, "Howard was talking about computer servers, and the city cameras!" He groans, huffing back into his chair as Steve lets out a loud laugh, eyes scrunched closed in mirth and face tipped back. A few seconds later, Barnes sits up, "what about your hearing aids?!"
Steve grimaces, reaching up into his ears and pulling them out, "they're actually sound dampeners. Without them, everything's crazy loud."
Barnes throws his hands up in disbelief and sags against his chair. "I have so many things to yell at you for."
Steve smiles, looking back up at Peggy, "well, seems like we've got time."
—
Seven Months Later
Peggy sits at her desk, a small space heater humming under her desk as she writes her article. She shivers, and turns the heater up higher.
"It's warmer over here." Steve teases.
"Last time I was over there you distracted me, and I have to get this article submitted in less than 20 minutes!"
"I was not distracting you." He pouts, "you are just too ticklish for your own good."
She smiles against her will, glad they were the only two left in the bull pen for the night.
"Isn't there some cat caught up in a tree you need to go rescue?" She says in a huff, but her tone is light.
"Nope." He says with a smile, "all cats are safe and sound, tucked up in their beds, warm and cozy for the night."
"Bully for them." She grouses, typing in her keyboard.
He laughs and gets back to his own work, a commission for a new logo for an ad. It's quiet for a while before she looks up, studying his silent frame. She's very familiar with the planes of his face now. How he looks when he's focused, or serious, or annoyed or happy. She loves when he looks content. She's proud to be the reason for most of his happy and content expressions lately.
She steals out of her chair, taking a wide circle. His dampeners are in so she knows with how focused he is that he's not hearing her. She turns right and sneaks behind him.
She's about to grab his shoulders to startle him, when something pops into her vision. She blinks at his hand that was holding a pencil and sketching that is now holding something up by his ear, facing her.
A ring.
She gasps and he slowly spins around, keeping the ring in sight. He shifts and she sees the sketch he was working on.
A little cartoon of him on one knee and the words Marry Me?
Her eyes are glued on the sketch as he slowly sinks down, "Peggy?"
She swallows hard, bringing her eyes to him.
"I know we've only known each other for just over a year, but…" his eyes get earnest and soft and she already knows her answer but she wants to hear what he's going to say. "Never in my life could I have imagined a more perfect partner. Someone who makes me a better man. You make me stronger. I don't even know how I was doing this alone before. I can't imagine my life now without you in it. And I don't want to. Will you—"
"Yes." She shouts, "yes!" She wraps her arms around his neck, hugging and then kissing him fiercely. She feels her throat tighten in emotion and she shoves her face against his chest to keep from blubbering. His warm arms hold her tightly and soft lips press against her hair.
"Peggy?"
"Hmm?"
"You're going to miss your deadline."
She laughs, full and joyous and in disbelief at how she could have ended up so lucky.
"If I do, that will be your fault. Phillips will be quite cross with you."
"I think I can handle that." He says with a mischievous grin, pulling her closer.
—
