"What the hell are you doing here?"

Howard leaned back against his car, cigarette dangling from his fingers like it had so many nights when he would wait to bring her home from the Automat. Parked in the dirt lot of the train depot, lights still blazing into the Nebraska night, he looked haggard, tired. Dark circles stood out prominently around his eyes, his hair sticking up on ends. His shirt, probably worth more than what she made in a year waitressing, was half-buttoned with the sleeves unevenly folded back.

All in all, he looked like the metaphorical train wreck that was her life.

"You left," he said softly.

"Very astute, Howard. How did you find me?"

He shrugged. "Wasn't hard. When I realized you were gone and Peg wasn't worried, I knew she had to be in on it. Called in some favors around town. When I saw Rebecca Barnes on the train's passenger list, I figured it was you." He paused, and before she could even ask her question, he continued. "Becky's the sister of a friend. Lives out on Long Island with three kids and her husband. No way she was on a train to Los Angeles by herself."

"Thanks Peg," she muttered, crossing her arms across her chest in an attempt at looking intimidating. "So you decided to follow me?"

"Of course I followed you!" he half-shouted, the exasperation in his voice surprising her.

She couldn't let him get under her skin. She wouldn't. She was wise to Howard's game, knew how he worked.

"Did it ever occur to you I didn't want you to?"

He dropped the cigarette, stomping it into the dirt to hide the hurt spreading across his face. "No. No it didn't." He paused. "I thought we had a good thing going, kid."

"I did too," Angie replied. Because it had been a good thing. No, not just good. Despite the uncertainty of what, exactly, their relationship was, being with Howard had been wonderful.

"Then why'd you leave?"

"Why did you?" she shot back.

"I had business in London, Ang. What did you think I was doin'?"

Howard had a look of genuine confusion on his face. And God, Angie wanted to believe it was all confusion, one giant misunderstanding. But she'd seen Howard Stark burn girls in the past, seen the way he could play innocent as a schoolboy. Their friendship had, at least, one benefit.

So she mustered her courage, knowing she'd sound like a jealous schoolgirl, and said. "Having a grand old time with Vera-Ellen."

"You kiddin' me Ang?" he asked incredulously, taking several steps toward her. "I've known Vera for years, her date for the premiere backed out on her, I was in town. All this because I did a favor for a friend?"

"No, you idiot!" she hissed, not wanting to draw the attention of the entire town. She could only imagine the audience they'd have – two strangers passing through, having it out in the middle of the night for all of Ogallala to see. It would probably be the most entertainment this sleepy town had seen in years.

One of his eyebrows raised, and she sighed, knowing he could see right through her. "Well, partially."

Reaching out tentatively, Howard took her hand. "You gotta give me somethin' to work with here, Martinelli. Cause I can't fix this if I don't know how it broke in the first place."

Angie squeezed his hand gently, looking back up at the sky as she tried to collect herself. "You could have called. Could have told me," she managed to get out, struggling to hold back a sniffle as her eyes filled with tears. She hadn't cried a bit over him – her righteous fury had overridden any instinct to cry – but now, she found herself wishing that she had. Anything would have been better than letting him see how weak she was.

"But you didn't, and the rumors started. And it hurt, it really hurt, Howard. Do you know how many years I've spent trying to get these casting directors to take me seriously? To at least give me the time of day? And then the picture was printed, and you disappeared, and the only place they wanted to audition me was in their bed."

She saw his brow furrow, the anger etched across his face at the mention of the casting director. His mouth opened as if he was about to say something, but she was too deep in her tirade to let him talk.

"And to top it all off, you send Edwin over with your damn 'thanks for the fun' gift. What the hell was I supposed to think, Howard? What was I supposed to do? My chances of a career in New York are done, so what other options did I have?"

Angie paused, partly because she could hear her voice breaking, but mostly because if she didn't stop for air, she's probably pass out. Everything was out in the open, all of the hurt of the past few weeks.

The Nebraska night was silent compared to back home. As she waited for an explanation, Angie could hear the low moans of cattle in the distance, the brush of the breeze whipping through the cornfields. God, right now she longed for an angry taxi driver laying into his horn, the screaming of Mr. and Mrs. Migliore through the thin walls of her childhood apartment to break the silence.

"It was supposed to be a surprise."

"What?"

"I was going to give it to you the next time I saw you, but when Edwin told me it came in, I asked him to surprise you," Howard said, voice barely above a whisper. "I bought that necklace for you before I even left for London. I bought it because I saw it and I thought of you. I bought it because I lo-."

He stopped himself before the word left his mouth, before her eyes could fully widen in shock at what was almost said.

"Because I care about you, kid," he corrected himself.

No he didn't just care. He was going to say he loved her.

He loved her.

And she'd run away.

It dawned on her, for the first time since this all began, that perhaps Howard wasn't the only one at fault here. If she had taken a second, been the bigger person, and asked Peggy for advice. She might have waited. She should have waited. Should have asked him what happened face-to-face and not jumped to conclusions.

But it wasn't a jump, the little voice in her head screamed.

And, lord, how she wanted to stomp on the little voice, give it a good swift kick in the behind. Because it had been that same little voice that screamed at her to run, that Howard couldn't be trusted.

Howard had a reputation, but she couldn't see past his past, and between the two of them, they'd managed to take a wonderful thing and blow it to smithereens.

She walked past him to sit on the hood of his car, taking the cigarette he offered and lighting it with the lighter that followed shortly after. Taking a deep drag, she watched as he did the same.

"We're a couple of schmucks, you know," she said with a snort.

"Haven't we always been?" Howard replied with a bitter chuckle. "It's my fault you know. Should have told you about the premiere. It wasn't fair to you."

"We never said it was an exclusive thing."

"I didn't think it had to be said."

"I wish you had." Pausing, she quickly added, "I wish I'd asked."

"But I didn't, and you didn't, which is exactly how two schmucks from New York end up sitting in a cornfield in the middle of Nebraska."

She let the smile pass over her face as she stared into the distance, flicking the ashes off her cigarette. He always did know how to make her smile.

"That director… he didn't…"

"Nah. I decked him as soon as the words left his mouth."

It was his turn to smile. "That's my girl."

His words were bittersweet. Had she ever really been his girl? She supposed she had been, but hadn't really believed it. And now that she realized it, it was too late.

Scooching across the hood of the car, she laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you, Howard."

"I get it Ang," he replied, pressing a kiss into her hair. "I've got a history-"

"Howard-"

"No, it's true!" he interrupted, jumping off the car to stand in front of her. "No more beatin' around the bush, kid. I get it. We both got issues. The question is how we're gonna fix 'em. And fix us."

"You think we can?" she asked, doubt creeping into her voice.

"We will." He was all confidence, but without the cocky swagger that typically came with it. And lord help her, she believed him, because this was her Howard Stark. "This may come as a shock to you, Martinelli, but I love you. And I'm not willin' to give you up that easily."

She reached out, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "So how do you propose we do this? No matter what, my career is done in New York. I can't go back, Howard."

"You don't come back."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "You're gonna have to explain that one, Stark."

"You don't come back, Martinelli. You go to LA tomorrow and take the town by storm. I go back to New York and clean up my act. Prove to you that I'm the guy you deserve. We meet up again this time next year, once we both have our lives together, and we give this another shot."

One year. One year without Howard Stark. All at once, it felt too long and too short.

"You really think it'll work?"

"I know it'll work."

She thought it through some more. "And it won't be radio silence? We can phone? Write?"

Good God, if Angie of two hours ago could hear her now – wasn't she cutting all ties, never speaking to him again? Even considering that right now hurt her heart.

"Hell, you can send smoke signals if you want. Ang, I can't stand the thought of not talkin' to you anymore than I can stand the thought of losin' you."

Angie mulled it over, staring him down as she tried to read his mind. She had to be sure. Had to know that he really and truly believed in what he was saying.

She wasn't sure what ultimately convinced her – the tender look in his eyes, the tight clasp of his hand around hers, the beads of sweat forming on his neck the longer she took to respond – but she was convinced.

"Alright Stark. You've got yourself a deal."

Howard let out a whoop that echoed through the Nebraska night, tugging her down off the car and into a hug so tight she thought she might pop. "That's the best news I've heard all day."

She didn't need a mirror to know that the grin on her face matched his as she stood on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed eleven.

"I gotta get back to my room at the boarding house, Howard. I think Mrs. Merkel might send the search party out for me."

"Are there enough people in this town to form a party?"

She punched him hard in the shoulder. "Aw, can it Stark. This place has its charms. And you better be nice to Mrs. M., or she won't give you a room for the night."

He shook his head. "Nope. Ain't stayin' that close to temptation," he added with a wink. "I'm walkin' you back, givin' you a kiss goodnight, and headin' back to the plane. Edwin's out in the middle of a field waitin' to help me fly back."

Shaking her head, she sighed, "Of course he is. You better give him a raise for this, Stark."

"Duly noted, Martinelli," he replied as he slung an arm around her waist and led her back to the boarding house. "Now let me enjoy the last few minutes I have with you until next year."

Snuggling into his embrace, she didn't argue the point.

Agent Carter is still not mine. Comments and feedback are always appreciated! One chapter left!