Chapter 2: American Flag Boxers
"I see you've personalized my wall."
Steve opened his eyes in annoyance to find Tony standing in his room, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. He was examining Steve's punching wall, which was covered in various dents and some rather grotesque blood smears.
"I'm sorry about that," he murmured sleepily, stifling a powerful yawn.
Tony waved away the apology as he took a sip of his coffee. "No problem. This is your floor, after all. You can do with it what you will."
After a few moments of staring at Tony incredulously, Steve finally voiced the question hanging in the air. "Tony… What exactly are you doing in my bedroom?"
His fellow Avenger's face broke into that particular smile that Steve knew preceded a joke at his expense, and he readied himself for the inevitable.
"Well, I told Pepper about our chat last night and she insisted I come check on you to make sure you hadn't done anything emo to yourself."
"… Emo?" Steve asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
Tony let out a breath of half frustration and half laughter and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll tell you later. But it's time for you to get out of bed now, Sleeping Beauty. It's ten, and you have a meeting at eleven."
"A meeting?" Steve hopped out of bed and followed Tony out of the room in confusion, "What meeting?"
Tony turned around to reply, but stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened as he got a full shot of his teammate's pajamas, and he immediately burst out laughing. Steve was scantily clad in bright American flag boxers and nothing else.
"American flag boxers? Really, Rogers?"
Steve frowned and looked down at his prized PJ's. "I'm Captain America! What did you expect? The Canadian flag?"
Tony pursed his lips. "You don't wear those every night, do you?" he asked, smirking at the thought.
The Captain narrowed his eyes at his iron comrade. "Of course not. That is completely unsanitary. Now, what is this meeting you mentioned?"
"Just shower and get dressed, I'll brief you on everything once you're done with your makeup." He smirked, took a loud sip of his coffee, and disappeared around the corner.
Steve stood dumbfounded, trying to make sense of the sudden lightness in his chest. That joke that Tony had made had actually been funny. He marveled as he felt a smile spread across his face. What a wonderful thing it was to smile again!
Still wearing this strange and exhilarating grin on his face, Steve headed to his shower. "JARVIS, hot water please," he requested politely. The water began to flow steadily from the shower head as he slipped off his boxers and climbed in.
He liked his shower scalding hot. Anything to chase away the memory of being encased in frigid ice on all sides.
Closing his eyes, he let his muscles relax as the hot water ran down his body. He thought of last night, and how Tony had asked if he missed Peggy. He could still see her face and her smile so clearly in his mind. He could even hear her voice.
"Don't be late."
He threw some shampoo in his hair, hoping to scrub away the painful memory. He had been late. So very late.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, like he did every night before bed, "I'm sorry I was late, Peggy."
The familiar guilt and regret and panic began crawling in his stomach, but he disregarded them. Tony was right. He was alive, and he was damn well going to make the best of it. That's what Peggy would have wanted him to do. At least that's what he thought she would have wanted.
He made the shower quick and ran a comb through his blonde hair, parting it carefully. He had no idea what this meeting was about but he didn't plan on going into it looking sloppy.
After wrapping a towel around his waist, he padded out of the bathroom and into his bedroom to get dressed. He choose a simple blue t-shirt and nice jeans to wear, and folded his Captain America suit on the bed so that he was ready to change if this turned out to be a SHIELD mission of some sort.
It was still a bit before eleven, but he decided to head up to Tony's floor anyway.
His iron comrade was sitting at the large black dining table, poring over a computer image projected in front of him. At the sight of Steve he immediately moved the image away and gestured for him to sit down.
"Will the others be joining us?" Steve asked as he sat down delicately in one of the plush dining chairs. Tony propped his legs up on the table and looked directly at his teammate.
"No, I'm afraid it will be just you and me."
Steve cocked an eyebrow. "… All right. What is this about?"
Tony, who seemed incredibly agitated, swung his legs off of the table and got up to refill his cup of coffee. "Miss Potts has been kind enough to set up an appointment for you," he called back as he filled up his mug with the steamy black liquid. "Coffee?"
The Captain shook his head and Tony turned back around to take care of adding creamer and sugar. "What is this appointment about?" Steve asked, somewhat impatiently.
"I honestly have no idea," Tony replied, heading back to the table with his fresh caffeine, "She just gave me an address, and I am supposed to escort you there. Oh, and you're supposed to wear that jacket you'd wear back in the day. She said that was extremely important. I have no idea why."
"My old war jacket? That's a strange request," Steve replied, wondering why Miss Potts insisted he wear something so old and outdated.
"Maybe she's entered you in a beauty contest," Tony mused, slurping his coffee obnoxiously and returning his attention to the holographic screen before him.
Steve narrowed his eyes at Tony before running downstairs to grab his jacket. He reached into the closet and paused for a moment, feeling the soft leather and inhaling the smell. This jacket had been through war and back. This jacket had been with him through everything. It had been memorialized in a museum after the plane crash, and he was only able to get it back when he went to request it in full Captain America garb. He really hadn't worn it much because he couldn't stand the memories that came with it. But he trusted Miss Potts, and if she said he should wear it, he would follow her instructions.
When he returned to Tony's floor, his comrade had his own black leather jacket on and was throwing his car keys up into the air and catching them.
"Well, don't you look spiffy. All right, come on, Grandpa. We've got an appointment to make."
And then they were riding in Tony's shiny black car that Steve could never remember the name of, speeding through the streets of Manhattan with the top down. He leaned his head back and let the wind comb through his hair. At this moment in time, he wasn't panicking about where Tony was taking him. At this moment in time, he was content.
The car suddenly lurched to a halt and Steve was thrown forwards, the seatbelt digging painfully into his neck. "Ouch! Stark, what's going on?"
Tony's aviators glinted in the sun as he turned towards the super soldier. "We're here," he replied simply, pushing the car door open and stepping out onto the sidewalk.
Steve looked up to see a plain white building with no apparent markings on the front. He got out of the car slowly, still confused.
"What is this place?" he asked, looking around for a sign that would answer his question.
"You'll see soon enough," Tony replied nonchalantly, walking briskly inside.
The Captain followed him through a set of golden swinging doors into an intensely white lobby area. Nearly blinded by the harsh fluorescent light, he stumbled to the front desk that Tony was leaning against. A cheerful-looking receptionist sat in the chair behind the counter, clicking some information into her computer.
"Room 249," she said as she finished her clicking. Steve's eyebrows raised as Tony immediately took off down a side hallway.
"Tony? Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"Here we are," Tony said, suddenly stopping and pointing to the number 249 on the sign to the right of the door.
"Stark! Are you listening to me? Will you please tell me what is going on? What is this place? Why are we here?"
"What was Peggy's last name, Steve?" Tony suddenly asked, finally looking up into his teammate's face.
Somewhat taken aback by the question, he sputtered "C-Carter. But why—?"
His eyes suddenly widened as he followed Tony's finger, which was now pointing at a sign hung on the door.
Welcome to St. Rose's Home!
This room belongs to:
Peggy Carter
Author's Note: Hello everyone! I can't believe how fast this story got reviews - I was inspired to stay up late and keep going because of your kind words!
I've got lots of ideas for this story, but one thing I'm aiming to do is to return to the writing style I introduced in the very beginning - a kind of poetic and smooth approach that looks inside both Steve and Tony's minds. Right now I'm establishing the plot, but when we get to the actual romance expect a return to the previous writing style. This is an epic romance, after all!
Please review, I love them so much!