Steve Rogers slipped out of the garage at the Avengers Facility on his one quiet afternoon, and headed for the highway, carefully observing the speed limit, and all other traffic laws, as he always did unless required for the mission. There were faster transportation options to get where he was going, but he liked the clarity of thought that being out on the open road offered. He had a lot to think about. His life had been turned upside-down over the past month. He liked its new configuration, but it was still a lot to process.
He still barely knew his fiancée. He had come to know her as kind and smart, considerate of those around her, conscientious about her role in the world, and anxious to improve it. He supposed he knew her about as well the other G.I.s had when they took their war brides home after the war. When he was in a self-flagellating mood, in his early days out of the ice, he had hung out at the VA, listening to stories of what things had been like after the war ended. Of the elation and chaos at the end. Many of them married their English sweethearts and brought them back home to rebuild the nation. He had almost done the same, he thought to himself, remembering Peggy, their longing glances and lost opportunities. Peggy really had been special. He supposed Rachael was a lot like her: strong and determined, sure of her place in the world and ready to make a difference. He shook his head. He shouldn't think that way. They were their own people. Maybe he did have a type, but they weren't interchangeable. Peggy had been his first love, but Rachael was his future.
He had seen Rachael off at the airport a couple of days previous. She had left for Wakanda early, to handle some of the specifics for the wedding, do some collaboration with some Wakandan scientists, and subtly deliver a pre-treatment to Bucky, to protect his enhanced metabolism from falling prey to the same substance that had started this whole thing for Steve. He hadn't been sure that separating to different continents so close to the wedding would be the best idea, but as the days of their "no touching" rule went on, they had found it harder and harder to keep their hands off each other, so maybe it had been for the best anyway, as tough as it had been to see her go.
They had made the most of their time together. He was shocked at the depth of his own emotion. Once they had both decided that they were committed to being together, things had progressed so quickly. He'd met her family, during a hastily planned visit that Rachael had arranged for them. Steve had been a bit apprehensive about the choice of venue for their first meeting. Rachael had suggesting renting out a bowling alley for their evening of introductions. He hadn't been sure about that, but she'd convinced him in the end and soothed some of his anxieties.
"Bowling's a fun, low-key activity. It'll break the ice, and give everyone something to focus on other than just interrogating each other. I know my family will see your true personality in the way you handle yourself and the way you treat others, just like I did. And just like me they won't be able to help falling in love with you."
He remembered the affectionate smile she had directed towards him, before he had voiced his main anxiety. "Bowling's pretty physical and competitive; I don't want to scare them off." He had considered holding back a little, missing a few pins on purpose, but it had felt disingenuous, and a bad foot to start off on.
"Don't worry, love, nobody's going to be expecting you to bowl anything other than a perfect score. They've seen the news footage, they've seen a bit of what you can do. You're strong, but you don't throw your weight around. And it'll be a gentle introduction to the super-soldier side of you, too."
She understood him so well with just a look. He'd had women infatuated with him since the serum, but none of it felt real. They hadn't really seen him. But Rachael was different. With just a look, he felt like she could hear his inner thoughts. Like she heard and understood what he was really feeling. There were a few people in his life who could see through to the core of him. Sam was one of them. Nat was another, now. But not since Peggy had he met someone interested in him that way, who also saw the man under the persona.
She had been right; the bowling party had been the perfect informal introduction. Steve had invited Sam and Rachael had invited Helen, to round out their little gathering.
Introductions had gone okay. Rachael had broken the news ahead of time, so when she introduced him to her mother as her fiancé, he was met with an appraising look, and not surprise. Her sister had taken a breezy approach to the whole thing, and spent half the evening outrageously flirting back and forth with Sam.
They'd all been a little nervous at first, but Rachael was right, bowling had ended up being a good activity to break the ice. He'd enjoyed seeing the friendly rivalry that Rachael and her sister had going on, teasing each other over the scores and crowing over little victories. It was nice seeing a happy family. It reminded him of the Barnes family. Back when his own home had seemed so quiet and subdued, Bucky and his sisters were always happy to welcome him into the chaos of their own household. And now he was being welcomed again into another family unit. It felt good.
Steve's train of thought was broken as he spotted the turn-off for the National Air and Space Museum. He had an appointment with one of the curators from the archives. It had been a few years since they had last met. After he came out of the ice, there had been a rush of interest from historians wanting to hear first-hand of Captain America's experiences during the war. SHIELD had filtered them down to just a few key interviews. He could still remember exactly what Fury had to say on the matter.
"There's plenty of WWII veterans still around. They've had seventy years to ask all the questions they need to from them. They just want you now, because you're still new and shiny, fresh out of the box. But, I've got other plans for you at the moment."
Steve had been secretly relieved. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to do his part for preserving American cultural heritage, and with his enhanced memory, he did have quite a bit to add. It was just that so much of it had still been so fresh to him. A lot of those memories had been painful... some from rehashing the trauma of war, but even the happy memories were bittersweet, reminders of the future he had lost and could never regain. In the end, he had given three initial interviews, leaving each one emotionally exhausted. He had still made a point to return every few years to the Air and Space Museum. Since the woman he had spoken to there managed the Captain America historical archives, he felt an internal obligation to keep up the relationship, and she had been so very kind and attentive that he didn't really mind it, despite his discomfort at contributing to an exhibit singing his own praises.
"Steve, it's so good to see you again," she greeted him warmly, meeting him at the reception desk.
"Hello Roberta, how are you?"
"Fine, fine," she answered, leading him through the doors behind the desk, and through back corridors to her office.
After general greetings and pleasantries, Roberta got down to business.
"So, how can I help Steve Rogers today?" she asked.
"Well, actually, I was hoping you could pull up a few artifacts from the collection for me..."
She had led him deep into the behind-the-scenes archives, closely packed and meticulously labelled shelving surrounded them.
"Here they are," she said, handing over a small labelled box.
He took it from her hands, and opened it gingerly. Inside it sat two gold rings, one large one small. His parent's wedding set.
After his father died, his mother had worn his ring around her neck, and her own on her finger. There had been many a time in the 30's when the money had run out and the gold in those rings would have gone a long way to keeping bellies full. But his mother could never bring herself to part with them. When her own time had come, Steve had hung on to them, too. Not so much in anticipation of his own marriage someday - between his health, his stature, and his terminal awkwardness around women, he hadn't held out much hope on that point - but because they were the last two pieces he had of his parents.
When he had gone off to war, he had left them for safekeeping with Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, rather than purchasing a safety deposit box. When he woke up in the 21st century, he had initially assumed they were lost to time, until an itemised list of artifacts had been delivered to him from the Smithsonian. When he had been presumed to have died a war hero, Bucky's parents had donated them, as being one of the few physical mementoes around of Steve Rogers, the person, not the soldier.
"Would it be alright if I took these with me? I could cover their cost, or could I have them on long term loan?" he asked Roberta.
"They're yours." she stated firmly. "We're the ones who were just borrowing them. All I need to do is record their catalogue numbers and mark down that they were returned to you on today's date, and they're in your possession again, free and clear."
"Thank you," he said, relieved.
"You're looking good these days. Life with the Avengers is treating you well?"
He could tell from the way Roberta was looking at him that she had guessed why he wanted these in particular back. There would only be two reasons for him to ask for the rings. He was either so homesick that he wanted to physically hold some connection to his past, or he was in love and planning to use them again for their intended purpose. He wasn't surprised his demeanor had given it away.
"Quite well, actually. In fact, I plan to make a big public announcement soon. We're keeping it quiet for the moment, so your discretion on the subject is greatly appreciated."
"Of course. Of course," she reassured him emphatically. "My lips are sealed. It's been an honour to have known you these last few years. I've seen you adapt to the post-modern era, and I've seen it spit you back out again. I'm glad you've found some happiness."
He didn't know about all that, but he was happy. Happier than he'd been in a long time. Possibly happier than he'd ever been. He couldn't wait to get back to Rachael. Couldn't wait to start their life together. A new start to both their lives. Maybe he'd call her when he got back to the Compound. It wasn't quite the same as being with her, but he missed speaking with her, sharing with her, learning about how she saw the world.
He broke his reverie, realising that he'd gone quiet for a bit too long. Roberta was just waiting for him to come out of it, smiling knowingly.
They made their goodbyes: Steve promising to return for a longer discussion of Hydra tactics during the war, Roberta encouraging him to drop by whenever he wanted to. Then he hopped back on his bike for the ride back to the compound, the rings tucked securely in a zippered inside pocket, right over his heart.