"You've got to be kidding me."

Steve was sat on the couch, the temple of his head pressed against his closed fist and his elbow propped on the armrest. He watched quietly as Bucky stared down at him after getting up and blurting out his exasperation at what he had just heard. As it seemed he wouldn't get any more comment, he decided to walk it off around the room. He came back a few seconds later, rubbing his jaw.

"Okay, you gotta confront her on this," he continued.

Steve looked up at him quite apathetically.

"Don't give me this look," Bucky warned. "Clearly, they're related! Make her spill the beans."

Steve shook his head and sighed. "Don't tell me you don't think the same!" Bucky protested. "Shall I remind it all to you?"

He held his forefinger up and proceeded to do the counting -and secondarily dramatize his argument. "They look exactly the same…They have the same mannerism …They look exactly the same….Their first names start with the same two syllables… They look exactly the same …Their family names both start with 'r'."

"Yeah well I'm gonna need more than a last name starting with the same letter to call her out on her lies if she denies."

Bucky shrugged. "Fine, I was just trying to make the list longer than it. already. is." He emphasized the last three words. "But I still say the fact her name starts with 'r' is no coincidence," he chimed in.

Steve snorted humorlessly. "I think the whole situation is making you slightly paranoid."

"I think I've been keeping my cool, on the contrary. If it were down to me, I'd say they are the same person and hell with everything else-"

It made Steve twitch as if he had been stung in the ribs. Just the mere thought –the totally illusory and absolutely chimerical concept- of Natalie being somewhat present in this decade physically hurt, first with sheer happiness then with profound disappointment at the quick realization it wasn't even an option.

"-but we both know it's impossible," Bucky continued. "So yeah, I'm actually really taking it easy here."

"It's still too early to confront her or expect her to reveal anything about her past to me," Steve said. "I can't take the risk of getting her back up."

Bucky didn't say a word but his expression did all the talking. He disapproved of Steve's soft modus operandi.

"I don't think Romanoff is the type you can coax," he said nicely but determinedly. "She won't open up to you because you will have given her the time and the space. I think she'll appreciate you being honest and frank even better."

Steve was quite doubtful. Although Bucky may have had a point about the right strategy to take with agent Romanoff, he doubted that would be enough to make her crack. She wouldn't disclose a thing even then, he was sure of it. It was part of her training – and with time and practice it certainly winded up being part of her.

Maybe the best way to avoid any more longing from his part was to avoid joining S.H.I.E.L.D. altogether. Working for S.H.I.E.L.D. would mean going on missions with her; spending a significant of time together; dwelling on all the beautiful features and characteristics she shared with Natalie. Joining S.H.I.E.L.D. would mean inflicting more pain on himself.

Perhaps, it was best for everyone if he just let go.

This was why he hadn't replied to Director Fury's job offer yet. It was a heavy decision –especially emotionally speaking, which deserved he would take time to ponder on it. Was getting himself in a roller coaster of emotions and forever unanswered questions the best way to fit in to this new world? Wasn't keeping his distance the right (and rightful) way to move on? If he stopped seeing agent Romanoff, maybe it would stop his torment? God knows his mind hadn't been able to find rest ever since the moment he had laid eyes on her. Maybe keeping his distance was the solution. Out of sight, out of mind, they said.

He reckoned Natasha Romanoff certainly wasn't someone easy to forget but maybe time could deal with it –like it dealt with everything else.

Sitting in a chair at the café, he hurriedly stood on his feet and a bright smile came to his lips as he caught sight of her figure approaching. Her blond hair was styled up in an informal bun, her white neck covered with the fabric of her bottle green coat, each step she made revealing the cream dress she was wearing underneath.

"Hi, Steve," she said softly and the way his name rang out made him irrationally smile more. He liked hearing her say his name and it seemed she liked saying it as well.

He watched her take her coat off (something he was still uncomfortable with but that she wouldn't let him do –she had declined his offer to help all the other times before).

"I appreciate the gesture but I appreciate me doing it even more," she had told him with a smirk. As much as he thoroughly followed the etiquette, he was respectful of her preferences, regardless of how unusual they often were, even more.

He sat after she did and he gazed silently as her eyes roamed around the room. Natalie always seemed to take in every detail of her surroundings wherever she was, her eager pupils disclosing a combination of innate wariness and sheer curiosity.

"No notebook, today?" he asked eventually. At every meeting, and ever since the very first time she had walked up to him after the show, Natalie had always brought along a leather book in which she wrote notes during their discussions. She never wrote much he had noticed and he was quite appreciative of her ability to store up so much information in her head.

She smiled at him, her eye twinkling with audaciousness. "I didn't open it the last two times we met. I reckoned it was time to take the leap and leave it at home."

His lips tucked into a smile and mirrored her expression. It was true they couldn't fool anyone: the last meetings they had had been more social than professional. Their dialogues had naturally drifted into casual conversations. He couldn't quite explain how but it was like Natalie always knew which direction to take to keep the discussion flowing naturally, continually triggering his easiness at conversing like a close friend of many years would. She made him comfortable as if she knew which roads to take to reach this point.

A sudden and quite alarming thought emerged.

"Does it mean the interview is over?" he asked politely when really, it wasn't quite what he cared to know.

Natalie gazed at him intently. "Do you mean are we going to keep seeing each other?"

A bashful smile rose his lips as he looked away furtively.

Her eyes probed him silently and he could swear he saw a glimpse of endearment flash by. "I believe I answered your question two meetings ago."

And her reply couldn't have made him happier, and probably beyond what he could sensibly explain.

Steve had been waiting in the light corridor for several minutes. He had phoned several days ago to forewarn the medical staff of his visit. To rectify, he had called to know if it was safe and reasonable to see Peggy knowing the shock it would be for her. They had rung him back soon after saying that her family wanted and approved of this reunion as it was the right thing to do by her.

Her daughter, accompanied by a doctor, had broken the news to her and again the following days as repeated reminder in a way to avoid any emotional shock when she would see him in the flesh.

"Mrs Carter," the nurse was speaking softly. "Your friend Steve is here. You remember we talked about it, do you? He's waiting right outside the door."

"I know what you said and I heard the frozen in the ice story just about enough," an elderly and yet familiar voice answered and it made his heart quicken. She sounded dubious. "But I'll only believe it when I see it. So how about you let him come in before he ages and becomes just as old as I?"

The door opened and the nurse invited him in with a gentle nod of the head. Steve felt his heart tighten as he made one step forward after the other into the room. The first thing he noticed was a bouquet of pink lilies put on the table in the corner of the room and the subtle scent of vanilla. He then caught sight of her pale and thin fingers impatiently roaming over the sheet, then the back of her head as he walked further in, her white hair elegantly brushed into soft waves.

He wanted to say something –anything, but the painful lump in his throat kept him mute.

She slowly turned her head to the direction of her visitor and a few seconds followed during which she seemed to process the sight in front of her. He saw straight in her eyes when she eventually did, and it was also the moment a high-pitched sob escaped her lips.

He clutched the flowers he was holding tight and tried to make up his earnest smile but the envy just wasn't there. Peggy's features contorted into a twitch of sheer pain as her bottom lip started to tremble beyond control and her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Steve," she sobbed, a tear rolling down her cheek, then another. "Steve."

Peggy was inconsolable and the nurse, although she expected such a reaction, stepped in to comfort her. Peggy stopped her by gently pressing a hand on her forearm.

"All this time you spent in the ice…all this time lost," she wept uncontrollably, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I didn't look for you. I'm so sorry…"

Steve pursed his lips together as his eyes watered and a tear escaped from the corner and slid down his face while her jerky sobs resonated in the room and echoed in his heart.

"You couldn't know," he voiced out hardly, forcing a way through his tight throat and faking a smile "And I'm alright."

Peggy shut her eyes tight, biting her bottom lip and shook her head slightly as a negative response to his attempt at comforting her. Many decades had gone by but she was still obstinate, and he could tell when Peggy Carter wanted to carry the blame or the guilt of an action upon her shoulders alone.

He turned to the nurse. "Could we…have some time on our own?" he asked politely then he gave her a reassuring nod.

The young woman pouted slightly, casting a glance at her patient with a saddened expression then nodded. "Call me if you need anything," she said quietly before walking off the room.

Once the sound of her footsteps faded away all was left was a heavy silence interrupted here and then by Peggy's soft sobs. Steve put his flowers at the foot of the bed and walked up to her.

"It's good to see you, Peggy," he said with a heartfelt smile after sitting on the chair by her bedside.

The smile that rose to her lips meddled with her crying expression. "It's good to see you, too," she moaned, quickly caught up by a new flood of sobbing. She reached for him and he squeezed her frail, soft hand tight. "But it's been so long," she cried regretfully.

"And I am here, now." He said, stroking the back of her hand softly. Apart from its appearance, it had the same shape and touch than the last time he had hold it, one evening of 1944. He felt drowning in regret. It had been so long indeed since the last time he had felt her touch, seen her face and heard her voice; and his heart still tickled at the remembrance of these young memories which were now so far away. His heart glowed again actually as the feelings he once had for her –and that he still carried now with him and on until the very end- although they had shifted at some point along the way (and part of him would always remain wistful about the lost potential of a romantic relationship), were aroused again at this very moment. He cared deeply for Peggy and would continue to do so until his very last breath, and it became a blinding and undisputable certainty.

"Forgive me for not coming earlier," he whispered softly. "I won't let you go again," he said and she brushed the side of his face with tenderness and in homage of the happy ending they could have had if everything had been different.

"I guess that makes us two," she smiled at last and the silence which followed filled their long overdue reunion with grace and perfection.

A couple of hours later, silence had long gone and made room for eager catching up. Peggy told Steve about her, about her career, her children and grandchildren and progressively the heartfelt smile that was on her lips eventually reached her eyes as her pupils twinkled at the tale of her well fulfilled life.

Clutching her wrist, she stopped midway in her sentence and furrowed her brows. Her eyes then patrolled across the room.

"My watch," she said. "Where is it?"

Steve frowned in surprise. "Your watch?" he repeated.

She patted her hands all over the bed. "Suzie, my nurse, keeps misplacing it and it has great sentimental value," she said, sounding slightly grumpy. Steve reached for the bedside cabinet and opened the drawer. An old, brown leather watched was neatly lying next to a book. He picked it up and showed it to her. Peggy's face immediately lit up in relief. She hurriedly took it and clutched it in her fist.

"Howard brought it to me from Switzerland as a gift after S.H.I.E.L.D had officially been founded— and also to replace my favorite gadget watch which I had to get rid of because it was permeated with radioactive gamma energy. Howard's doing."

A smile rose in the corner of his mouth. "Sounds like quite a story," he said.

Peggy chuckled like a young child would. It warmed his heart to see the years hadn't stripped her off of her joie de vivre. "Howard never deprived me of the thrill of a good adventure. And I loved it…although I never said out loud."

"You've had a wonderful life," he said with a smile. "I couldn't be happier."

Peggy paused and looked at him affectionately. "I just wish you had yours, too."

He shrugged casually. "Children, a family. I don't think I was ever cut out for it anyway."

Peggy let out an amused chuckle. "You are still a terrible liar."

He snorted quietly. It seemed she knew him just as much as he knew her, although he wasn't sure what he wanted anymore. There was a time he longed for his own family, certain it was what would make him happy, but then everything had changed. He had lost the yearning without even realizing and now it just seemed pointless to even try to get it back.

"I guess it is no longer relevant," he concluded musingly. He was ready to accept it and as a matter-of-fact, he had accepted it for a longer time than he was probably aware.

"Steve, I want you to have everything that was taken away from you seventy years ago. Your and Bucky's return is nothing short of miraculous. It is your right –and your duty—to live it to the fullest."

"Yeah, it's just…it's difficult to move on when it means leaving everything and everyone I knew behind."

"And you don't have to. One can go with the other. You can carry all this with you but without letting it become an obstacle or a burden." She added after a pause. "Did you find everybody…as you found me?"

He nodded stealthily.

"Even her?" Peggy asked as she eyed him closely. "Your journalist friend…Natalie."

His body stiffened at the sound of her name coming from Peggy's lips.

"No," he murmured as he looked away so that Peggy wouldn't read any emotion that he wouldn't have been able to conceal in spite of his effort.

"I'm sorry," Peggy answered eventually with a soft, nearly motherly voice. "I relate to the pain and the disarray you must be in –I've been there."

Her words intrigued him and he turned to gaze at her. She looked back at him with kindness and serenity. He shook his head, looking down, trying not to disclose something that would hurt her feelings. "It's just…I mean it's-"

"Do you still want to play this game? After all this time?" Peggy snorted. Her laughter was stripped off any form of resentment or bitterness; she was just genuinely amused by the situation that was unfolding here. "You cared for her. I get that. I always knew that."

She looked pensively at the white wall in front of her. "From the moment I saw you at the bar with her," she finished. "And it just continued to amplify from there."

He looked at her closely –cautiously—feeling ashamed. Not ashamed for developing feelings for Natalie but ashamed for not sparing Peggy's.

"We don't have to talk about her," he started bashfully. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

She smiled again. "I got married, I had children, and grandchildren. We have gone past uncomfortable, don't you think?"

She casted a tender look on him.

"I'm sorry…," he started.

"Only you can apologize for something only your heart has control over," she said amusingly taking the whole matter more lightly than he was, but after all, it only felt like a few weeks ago for him when seventy years had gone by for Peggy. She then turned pensive. "You are just as self-righteous as I recalled and it warms my heart," she mused aloud. "When I founded S.H.I.E.L.D. it was because I wanted to carry your legacy and fight for truth and justice as you would have if you had still been here, and when I left S.H.I.E.L.D it was because I had found people ready to take over."

He listened attentively.

"I had lost you twice. First to another woman and then to death. My husband, God rest his soul, gave me more love than any woman could ever receive, and S.H.I.E.L.D was a means to keeping your memory alive." She paused. "But it's all over now."

Peggy had a wistful look, as every time she had mentioned S.H.I.E.L.D. She clearly cared for it in a deeper way than he had expected.

Her face suddenly changed as in she seemed to recall something that had slipped her mind.

"Where is my watch?" she asked, looking befuddled and glancing at the bedside cabinet. "It was a present from Howard."

Her eyes ran across the room again. "I keep telling Suzie to be more careful with it but she always misplaces it."

"I think you were holding it in your hand," Steve said softly.

Peggy shook her head vehemently. "No, I wasn't. I think Suzie misplaced it again."

She sounded annoyed, but mostly, she sounded alarmed.

"It's probably somewhere on your bed," he spoke soothingly but it didn't help decrease the panic that was quickly overtaking her. He started patting the blanket.

"It's not here. Why would it be here?" she cried and he searched for the watch more hastily. A sob slipped between her lips. "This is all I have left," she moaned as she began to wriggle in her bed.

Steve heard a quiet thud and looked down. The watch was lying on the light blue fitted carpet. He bent down and reached for it.

Peggy's disarrayed expression turned into one of sheer relief that could only be explained by her old age, and yet that was how she felt. The relief and satisfaction she was feeling right now were just as strong as the anguish she was in a few seconds earlier.

"Thank you," she murmured with the most earnest tone and held the watch dearly against her chest. "Howard brought it to me from Switzerland to celebrate the official launching of S.H.I.E.L.D," she repeated again but with the same intonation as if she was saying it for the first time. What pained him was that she was totally oblivious of it. "We were…so proud," she recalled vividly, a merry grin coming up to her lips. "It was like we were finally honoring Steve. We never made a decision without gauging first if it was what Captain America would do."

Peggy was deep in her memories looking blankly in front of her although it seemed she acknowledged a presence by her bedside. "I just wish…," she paused as her expression turned more melancholic. "I wish Steve knew. I wish he knew that I never let go of him, that I never forgot him."

His eyes watered and his pupils quivered as he gazed at the emptiness in her expression that let him know her mind was no longer present in the room with him. He swallowed hardly as he both cherished Peggy's commitment to their common history and felt guilt over disappearing out of her life so abruptly.

"Peggy," he called in an effort to reach for her mind and pull her back. "I'm here."

Her head moved slowly and he watched her expression literally drift back to reality. "Of course you are!" she exclaimed naturally with a lighter expression and he recognized the Peggy from the beginning. She showed no awareness of her absence from a minute ago.

It crushed him in a way he didn't even know it existed, however, he didn't disclose any sign of it. His mind wandered and pictured young Peggy relentlessly devoting herself to a relationship of which one half was missing. Peggy had done right by him beyond time and reason, and for that, he could never repay her enough.

But most importantly he realized how S.H.I.E.L.D embodied her whole and unshakeable commitment. It wasn't just an intel organization, it was the extension of their common fight for freedom and justice and the continuation of their relationship if fate hadn't come between them. And it also embodied who he was back in the 40s, a soldier who fought for freedom.

"Tell Bucky he owes me a visit," she said with an amused smile carrying on with the casual conversation they were having a few moments ago.

Steve reached for her hand and held it tenderly between his. "Peg," he started. "I will look after S.H.I.E.L.D. for you. It will be my honor to carry out the fight you have fought for so many years."

Would he have joined S.H.I.E.L.D. if it haven't been for his plane crash? Most certainly. It was logical that he would do now the thing he hadn't been given the chance to achieve. He would honor Peggy like she did him. And neither agent Romanoff's presence, nor Natalie's haunting memory that would ensue could be a big enough obstacle to achieving this.

S.H.I.E.L.D once represented Steve to Peggy, and it represented Peggy to him now. He would serve for S.H.I.E.L.D like she was the one still running it.

Peggy looked surprised then a smile rose to her lips. He smiled back and gently pressed the back of her hand against his mouth and gave it a soft kiss.

This same afternoon, he called Director Fury to say he was in.