January 1946, France

We landed in Paris early in the morning and then drove to Howard's chateau just outside of the city.

"I swear you seem like you have a mansion in every big city in the world!" I exclaimed.

"Hmm, not every one. Just most."

It was a gorgeous house. Not as grand as the one on Long Island, but it had the quaint little French charm about it. There were symmetrical hedge mazes surrounding the house and neat gardens further up past the house. Howard walked around the house with me and showed me my room. It was the most beautiful room I had ever had for sure. The walls were painted the lightest color of sky blue and there was a big window that overlooked a little river that ran past the house.

Howard smiled as I ran around the room. "Do you like it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I love it," I sighed. "And I even get my own walk in closet?"

"Yes you do," he answered. "Now, what do you say we do some exploring around Paris?"

Howard

I smiled as Peggy walked down the grand staircase with me, marveling at the glamour of it all. It fascinated me to see how excited she was at everything. It was all new to her and for the first time, I saw things through her eyes. I had always taken all the luxuries of life for granted, my family had been wealthy and well-known for as long as I remembered. I had always stayed at beautiful mansions when I went on vacation since I was a child and where my family didn't have a house, we always stayed in the best rooms of the best hotel in the city. But it was all new to Peggy and I was quite proud of myself for being the one who'd impressed her and made her so happy after she'd been so heartbroken over Rogers.

We went to all the best restaurants and we never had to wait. We visited to the Eiffel Tower and walked around the Louvre Museum. We wandered the streets of Paris, holding hands and laughing at the times we had spent in London. It was as if we didn't have a care in the world.

The one thing that did bother Peggy was the attention. The French paparazzi, the lights flashing in our faces when we walked out of a building, the loudly shouted questions all made her extremely uncomfortable. They hardly fazed me, I had gone with my mother and father to press conferences and social events since I was a child, but Peggy, who'd grown up in the English countryside could hardly bear it. Whenever the press would show up, she would draw closer to me and whisper "Can we go now?" Of course I would always say yes. I once told her, "Just smile and wave, that's all they want you to do anyways. Put on a good show for them to put in the papers." She would then manage a tight smile and with her hand linked around my arm, we would hurry towards the car where Jarvis would be waiting to drive us home. I never fully understood why strong-willed, tough Peggy was made so uncomfortable by a few flashing cameras, but I didn't ask. Despite that, I could tell that when the time came for us to go back to the U.S. she was disappointed. Going to France had been like escaping from reality for a while and we were both reluctant to go back.

We went back. Back to Long Island and working on S.H.I.E.L.D. After a long day of work, I went on a visit to my cousin Elissa's apartment in the city.

"That was quite a buzz you made in Paris there."

I continued to read the book in my hands. "Did I?" I asked uninterested. "Did the French media make it all the way across the Atlantic?"

"They didn't have to, the papers here were talking all about you."

"Ah, the price you pay for being rich and famous," I said humorously.

She looked at me solemnly. "Well, your girlfriend doesn't seem to like it too much."

"Girlfriend? Oh you mean Peggy, nah, we're just friends."

"That's not what it looked like to the reporters. Then again, can you blame them? The two of you traipsing through Paris, to this museum and that opera."

"Elissa, trust me when I say we are just friends."

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, then you had better tell her what the papers are saying about her, seeing as she seems to hate the attention in the first place."

I sat with Peggy the next day, pondering over some letters we had gotten regarding S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Peggy?" I whispered.

"Hmmm? What is it?" she asked, lifting her head from the stack of papers she'd been going over.

"Some of the papers are writing some things that might to be true necessarily."

"And?"

"Well some of it's about you. They think we're umm a couple."

Her face strangely remained quite unsurprised. "You're not bothered by it?" I asked.

"Well it's good to know they put all those pictures they took of us walking around in Paris to good use."

"Is that a no?"

"Well, worst things have been written about people in the papers."

"So you don't mind?" I asked, completely stunned by her reaction.

"I mind, but not too much," she replied.

"Would you mind less if it were true?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

She said nothing. Then she laughed awkwardly. No, I wouldn't mind if it were true."