A/N: This is mainly just Daniel reflecting on canon events. I found the time jump disorienting at first, so this was my way of trying to straighten out in my head what happened and what Daniel's mindset was throughout it.

stuck in place

Daniel didn't know what to say as Violet placed the engagement ring on the living room table. Once a glittering symbol of promises and fresh starts, the diamond left a sour taste in his mouth. Despite his best efforts, he was still stuck in the same place as he was several months ago, only this time, he was starting to think he might never get free.

Stepping back, Violet squared her shoulders. Tears welled in her eyes, but her mouth was tight and gaze hard. 'I can refer you to another nurse for your physical therapy. Abigail has experience treating this kind of injury.'

Daniel nodded. Opening up about his leg to someone new would be painful, but continuing to go to Violet for treatment would hurt both of them more in the long run.

'Thank you.' He cleared his throat. 'And I'm sorry. You deserved better.'

'I'm just glad I ran into Peggy Carter before we got married.' Her tone was sharp, but then she sighed, a sad, defeated sound. Usually upbeat and sunny, it was a bad look on her, and he hated that he had put it there. 'I'll see myself out.'

A few seconds later, Daniel heard the creak of the front door opening and closing. Then, the house was quiet and he was alone.

He leaned his crutch against the wall and sank onto the soft couch, closing his eyes. Cold dread scurried down his spine like spiders.

Violet was kind and supportive, with a warm, gentle sense of humour. She was beautiful and she told him how she felt, and he cared about her. He had been committed to starting a new life with her. With time, he could have grown to love her.

But she was right. Even now, watching her walk out of his life, the part that hurt the most wasn't that their relationship was over. It was knowing that, even after all this time, he was unable to deny her accusation.

At his core, Daniel still loved Peggy. Charming, brilliant, and scarily proficient, she never failed to surprise and amaze him. She was the person whose opinion he respected more than anything, who challenged him to be better, whose face featured in his dreams.

She was far from perfect, of course. After he accused her of treason and she insisted he put her on a pedestal, he had done his best to see her as she was, not as he wanted her to be. She was as stubborn as a mule on its worst day, independent to the point of pushing people away, and close-lipped about her personal life.

None of that made a difference to how he felt about her.

But at the end of the day, Peggy didn't return them. Whether it was because she still mourned Captain America or because she simply didn't like Daniel that way, she had never taken him up on his offer of after-work drinks.

So when Daniel was offered a promotion in Los Angeles to open a new branch of the S.S.R., he tried to put Peggy out of his mind. He and Violet hit it off immediately, and when he asked her to dinner, she didn't hesitate.

And when Peggy phoned him, he ignored her, not wanting to get sucked back into the past.

Yet even months later, the moment she walked into the office, as vibrant and confident and witty as ever, it all came rushing back. Admiration. Respect. Love. And judging from her expression when she realised he planned to propose to Violet, his feelings weren't unreciprocated.

But he hadn't been willing to throw away his new life on something that would never happen. And in the meantime, Peggy had grown close to Dr Wilkes, proving Daniel's caution right.

Daniel ran a hand through his hair. Now, Violet had met Peggy, and within minutes, she saw everything he was trying so desperately to ignore. She realised that the happiest version of him was still back in New York.

And now she was gone.

And Daniel was still stuck in place, in love with a woman whose affection lay elsewhere.

.

recalibration

Compartmentalisation was a necessary skill in their line of work. An untimely distraction could be the difference between life and death — or noticing something suspicious and missing it, which often meant the same thing.

When Daniel was in the field, he did his best not to let his personal life seep into his decision-making. He couldn't afford to play it safe because he was thinking about a missed call from his parents or miss a clue because he was wondering what Peggy would have done.

So when something crashed onto the roof of the lab, rocking the car and interrupting his conversation with Peggy, all thoughts of the intimate moment they were having flew out of his mind. He jerked backwards and immediately set to work identifying the cause of the disruption.

It wasn't until later that night, after they extracted Jarvis and took the sample of zero matter to Stark's residence, that Daniel had time to stop and think about what almost happened in that van. Laying in bed, his leg aching from exertion, he stared up into the darkness. A cool breeze ruffled the curtains through his half-open window.

He should have been asleep, but his racing mind refused to settle.

When he told Peggy why Violet left, he'd seen something in her eyes, felt it in the way her hand lingered on his — compassion, yes, and guilt, but also an invitation. A sign that if Violet was right about how he felt, she might welcome it.

He wasn't the only one who leaned in. If they'd had more time, if Dottie had thrown the body from the window mere seconds later, Daniel and Peggy might have kissed.

But where did that leave them? He knew what he wanted it to mean, but what did she want it to mean? Had she just been curious? Caught up in the moment?

Even if it meant the same thing to her as it did to him, that was only the beginning. Peggy would return to New York when this was over, while Daniel would stay in Los Angeles. Between living on different sides of the country, undertaking life-threatening missions, and sorting through their past, making something of their feelings would be difficult.

It had been easier with Violet. Life had been straightforward.

Still, Daniel couldn't bring himself to wish things were different. Faced with the possibility of something finally happening with Peggy, he didn't care about easy.

Somehow, in the midst of bringing Dottie in and taking down Whitney, he and Peggy were going to have to find time to talk.

.

unmoored

Jazz music played from a jukebox, mingling with the dull chatter of the bar patrons. Tucked safely into a corner table that gave them the perfect vantage point for viewing the rest of the room, Daniel and Peggy talked quietly as they ate. The overhead lights were dim and atmospheric, but even in the faint glow, Peggy's brown eyes shone.

The threat was over. The rift was closed and Whitney was in an asylum following her mental breakdown. Dottie had escaped, but even if she wanted them dead, she wouldn't attack them in the open like this. Most likely, she would return to her Russian handlers for a new mission.

Life was as safe and peaceful as it could be, given their professions.

And as happy. Remembering how Peggy kissed him in his office earlier that week, and the slight catch in her voice when she asked whether he wanted to go out for a drink, he smiled absentmindedly.

'The longer I'm here, the more Los Angeles is growing on me,' Peggy said. 'I like the sunshine.'

Daniel feigned surprise. 'You don't miss the rain and overcast days?'

'If I did, I wouldn't have left England.' She sipped her wine. 'If you don't have plans tomorrow, we should spend the day doing something stereotypically touristic. With everything that's been happening with work, I haven't had the chance yet.'

'The Griffith Observatory has stunning views; we could go just before sunset so we can see the city in the daytime and at night. Of course, then we'd have to find something else to do during the day...'

She beamed. 'That shouldn't be a problem.'

They ate in companionable silence for a few seconds, then Daniel said, 'Tell me about your favourite childhood memory.'

Peggy frowned, and for a moment, he thought she was going to deflect the question. But then she said, 'Christmastime when I was ten. It snowed heavily that year, and my grandfather made my brother and me sleighs. We raced each other down a hill near our house all morning, then we had eggnog by the fire while our parents danced to the wireless.'

'That sounds cosy.' Daniel could picture Peggy as a child, dressed in a beanie and scarf, gripping the rope tightly as she leant forward to urge the sleigh faster. 'My cousins and I used to make snowballs and see who could throw them the furthest.'

Peggy raised her eyebrows. 'Was there a person at the other end?'

'It usually dissolved into fights, yes.' Daniel shrugged. 'I usually started it.'

She laughed and took a bite of her pasta. 'Michael would have liked you.'

'What was he like?'

This time, she didn't baulk at the question. They spent the rest of the evening reminiscing about their childhoods, their hopes and fears, and anything else they could think to ask. He told her about growing up in Idaho, and they both talked about their time in the army, even going as far as to discuss Steve Rogers, albeit shallowly.

By the time Daniel kissed her goodnight, it was like the anchor that had been holding him back was finally loose. Unmoored and adrift, he didn't know where they would end up, but there were two things he did know.

They weren't stuck in place anymore, and he was eager to see where they could go.