Chapter Seventeen

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"I have a proposition to make," Pepper began, folding her hands on the tabletop. "And you can say no," she quickly tacked on, "but I do want you to think about it."

Peggy laid down her fork, intrigued. The two women were eating ridiculously priced food in a restaurant somewhere north of Stark Tower. Much of the meal was unfamiliar, but after years of eating army slop and being creative with rationed food, Peggy was willing to try almost anything at least once.

She had accepted the offered outing eagerly. After several days of lying low and recovering her strength, Peggy was very ready to get her life back on track again. Steve and the rest of the Avengers had been called out, so when Pepper had proposed a day of shopping and lunch, she had jumped at the chance. The experience had been somewhat overwhelming, but she was determined not to be daunted by the ghosts of the past.

This was her world now; she needed to learn how to navigate it.

"I have a job opportunity I'd like you to consider," Pepper continued. "We have an opening for a PA," she offered, and then hurried to explain the acronym, unsure if the woman from the 1940's would know it. "I mean a personal assistant. I've never been able to find one that could stand our strange life for more than a few weeks."

Peggy's heart sank. She liked the idea of keeping busy and earning her way, but she'd been treated like a secretary for far too long, and had hated it with a passion. "I don't know," she demurred, trying to hide her disappointment. "I haven't had much luck answering phones."

Pepper's eyes sparkled. "That's the best part," she explained. "It's a PA position in name only - you wouldn't be answering phones unless you wanted to. Right now, the Avengers need a liaison with SHIELD. We've broken most ties with them, but are willing to remain conditionally involved. Tony volunteered me, but he forgets I have a business to run. With your background in SHIELD, and your familiarity with the leader of the Avengers, you would be ideal."

She paused to gauge Peggy's interest before adding the clincher. "The position would also include traveling, weapons training, and in-house residence. Interested?"

"Definitely," Peggy responded unhesitatingly, and the two women shook hands over the hors d'oeuvres.

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Hashing out the details took longer than either had expected, and they were running a little late as they stepped out of the elevator on the ground floor and headed down an interior ramp toward the exit. The building's lobby was was spacious, and featured a waiting area with decorative low stone planters filled with ornamental plants. It was all very sleek and modern, quite unlike what Peggy was used to.

"I notice most of your buildings are made of glass these days," she commented, looking ahead at the huge floor-to-ceiling windows that offered an excellent view of the street outside. "How can glass be strong enough? Is it a special type?" It was one of the most dramatic differences in architecture she'd noticed, and she found herself wondering if it was a type of metal instead.

After all, even if the future didn't have flying cars, perhaps it wasn't too far-fetched to assume they had transparent metal.

"They're actually non-load-bearing," Pepper explained as she hunted through her purse for a tissue. "There's a steel infrastructure that carries the building's weight; the glass is just hung on like pictures on a wall. When we designed Stark Tower..."

She kept talking, but Peggy had stopped listening. Something wasn't right, and every single one of her instincts was screaming danger. Her eyes darted around the spacious lobby, but everything looked so different from what she was used to that she couldn't immediately identify the threat. Then she looked at the wall of windows again and everything came together in a rush.

"Get down," she cried, and turned, throwing herself at her surprised friend and using the weight of her body to pull them both down and out of the way. They tumbled off the far side of the interior ramp and into a low decorative planter just as the plate glass windows shattered and machine gun fire rattled through the building.

Twisting onto her side, Pepper rolled into the narrow area under the ramp and pressed the panic button on her watch, well versed in disasters; she was Tony Stark's CEO after all. Peggy followed closely, reaching Pepper just in time to see the woman yank off her scarf and try to tie it one-handed around her other arm.

"You've been hit," Peggy realized, pulling away the flimsy scarf and producing her own handkerchief to knot around her friend's arm. All her training as a nurse came into play, and she inspected the wound as best she could.

"Oh my gosh - um - I don't think it hit anything serious," Pepper responded, but she was starting to look white and sick with shock. Her blood pressure was kept perpetually low as part of the stabilization for her Extremis. As a result, any kind of injury always made her feel faint.

From what she could tell in the dim space, Peggy agreed. "It's just a flesh wound; we'll get it stitched up and you'll be fine." Bandaging it expertly, she tried to sort things out. "Look, are they after you? Do you have a gun?"

"No gun," gasped Pepper, trying to shift so she could put her head between her knees. "Pepper spray in my purse and a taser. Ugh, I hate my blood pressure right now."

Peggy helped her friend into a more comfortable position and quickly rifled through her bag. Finding nothing that looked immediately familiar, she put the whole thing by Pepper's hand. "All right, stay here, and use those if anybody gets close - I'd probably hurt myself if I tried. I'll keep them busy. When you can, try to reach a phone."

Pepper tried to explain that she'd already sent an alert to Tony, but Peggy put her finger on her lips, signaling silence. Beyond their hiding space, both women could hear the sound of boots grinding down on broken glass. The rhythmic scrunch-scrunch-scrunch came closer until it was almost on top of them, and then paused.

"Virginia Potts." It wasn't a voice either recognized. "Consider yourself surrounded. Come out with your hands up, and we'll think about not killing you."

Neither woman answered, both listening intently as the scrunch-scrunch started up again. It quickly became apparent that there were several people searching the area for them, herding other civilians toward the receptionists desk, although no more gunshots or threats followed. Evidently the searchers were only interested in targeting Pepper.

Peggy slipped to one side and waited patiently. Seconds later, the first assailant stepped into view and Peggy moved, catching him in a partial headlock and ramming her knee into his stomach, snatching his handgun when he dropped it with a startled grunt.

"Thank you," she told him politely, before slugging him as hard as she could. Her knuckles throbbed, but for the first time since waking up, the feeling of wrong-footedness that came with this new century began to fade. At least all those years in the ice hadn't made her forget her combat training. Then a shout alerted her to the fact that the scuffle had not gone unnoticed, so she rolled back behind the decorative planter and started firing.

The attackers, not expecting gunfire, scattered for cover, and for about two minutes, Peggy held the field. Then, just as one attacker made a run for her position, the hammer fell with a click and she realized with a sinking heart that guns from the future could still run out of ammunition.

Bouncing to her feet, she met the attacker head-on, taking him down the way Bucky Barnes had taught her long ago. They weren't exactly legal moves, but they were effective in a pinch. She got the next man too, but it took far more effort than it should have and she was panting shakily by the time he finally went down. Peggy's strength still wasn't back to where it should be, and the long day of outings with Pepper had been more draining than she'd realized.

Then a second crash of glass and a roar of repulsors riveted her startled attention to the ruined wall of windows as Iron Man made his appearance, accompanied by the rhythmic screaming he called 'music,' and livid at the threat to his girlfriend.

Peggy had seen images of the suit, but the reality put even Howard's wildest dreams to shame. She stared for a moment before shaking off the distraction, starting to turn back. Then another flash of motion caught her eye, and her breath stuck in her throat.

It was Captain America.

For just a moment, the whole world paused. This was the first time she had seen Captain America - her Captain America - in uniform since the day she had kissed him goodbye and watched the Valkyrie disappear into the clouds. Heart in her throat, she watched her soldier take on three of the assailants at once. His fighting style had changed, progressed, and for a moment she couldn't take her eyes off of him.

Too late she realized her distraction and jolted her attention back. The leader of the band stood, gun trained steadily at her head, too far away for her to reach him before he could pull the trigger. She tried a different tactic, throwing her empty weapon into his face while she rolled toward the temporary shelter of another planter.

She never made it. The wild throw had left her off-balance, and the planter was too far away to reach in time. The mercenary grinned and cocked his gun even as she threw herself sideways.

Oh, Steve - I'm so sorry...

Throinnnnnnnnngngngngngng

The familiar burnished metal of Steve's shield slammed into the tile flooring right in front of her face just as the gun fired, absorbing the bullet's impact. The next moment she was rolling across the floor, carried to comparative safety behind the planter by his greater weight and momentum.

"You okay?" he gasped, and his face looked very white behind the helmet of his uniform as he helped her sit up. Glass shards sprinkled his shoulders and he was breathing hard from his sprint to reach her in time.

"You're late," she panted when she could catch her breath. He grinned a little at the rush of memories those words brought back, and the tension in his shoulders eased just a bit. Even so, his hands remained firm on her arms, and she suddenly realized just how close they were.

"I'm out of ammunition; give me your gun," she added crisply, trying to shake off her complete distraction at seeing him in uniform. This was no time to be sentimental, and she figured a matter-of-fact attitude would reassure him that she was all right.

He huffed a relieved chuckle and shook his head, pressing cold metal into her hand. "Stark model - shoots electric pulses, handles like my old Colt," he explained, and she nodded briskly. Howard had made a preliminary prototype for an electric gun, but it had always left her with tingling, numb hands. She hoped his son had corrected that fault.

Movement behind Steve's back drew her attention and she immediately raised her new gun, firing it over his shoulder by such a narrow margin that she nearly grazed his ear. The mercenary didn't stand a chance, dropping his weapon as he convulsed with the electric shock. The bullet he had meant for the back of Steve's head went into the ceiling instead, and pieces of broken ceiling tile rained down around them.

"Thanks," Steve gasped, and then he was on his feet again, throwing his shield hard and fast, fighting vigorously. Peggy scrambled to her knees behind the planter and fired over the rim, covering both his back and Pepper's hiding place beneath the ramp from her vantage point.

"Say, what're you doing on Friday night?" he presently called over the sound of gunfire.

"Nothing, I don't think," Peggy called back, heart suddenly leaping. "Unless you have another of these little skirmishes planned."

"I was thinking how you still owe me that dance." Steve's own heart was racing wildly, but he held his voice steady. "There's a place down in Brooklyn that has a live band on Friday nights."

For a long time, she didn't answer, and he started to worry that perhaps he shouldn't have asked. He couldn't see the smile on her face, so big it prevented her from speaking.

"I'd like that," she finally managed, and if she was so distracted that she nearly shot Clint when he came running by, nobody ever mentioned it.

The coast finally began to clear a little, so with one final shot, Peggy got her feet beneath her. "Cover me," she called to Steve, and ran back to the ramp, ducking low to avoid any stray shots. Behind her, she could hear him changing his position to keep her safe, and felt a warm glow around her heart. She had missed fighting beside him; the way they worked so effortlessly together.

Peggy ducked into the narrow space beneath the ramp, and immediately dropped to the floor, barely avoiding a spray of pungent orange fluid.

"Peggy! Oh, I'm so sorry - did I spray you? I thought you were another one of them."

Pepper was still very pale, but she was sitting up, and there was a fierce light in her eyes. She held a black device in one hand, and a small canister in the other. At her feet sprawled one of the attackers, obviously out cold.

Cocking her gun, Peggy pushed the man out of the way with her foot and took a defensive position by the opening, shooting the CEO an approving look. "Steve is here," she told Pepper, "and Tony and Clint. The fight is practically over."

As if on cue, repulsors sounded nearby, and the feet and knees of the Iron Man suit clanked into view, the only part of the suit that visible to the women below the ramp. "Pep?" His voice was tinny and oddly mechanical. "Pepper, are you all right?"

Much to his dismay, the Iron Man suit couldn't fit into the small space beneath the ramp. Instead, Steve joined them, shucking off his helmet and holding out steady hands to Pepper. He saw the bloody handkerchief bandaging her arm, and his eyes flickered to Peggy, who nodded reassuringly. The wound was not severe; Pepper would be fine.

Tony was very impatient by the time Steve and Peggy emerged, helping a wobbly but undaunted Pepper out between them. "I'm all right..." she started to say, but Tony wouldn't wait for her to get the rest of the words out, instead catching her in his arms and retracting the face mask so he could kiss her.

"Look here, the next time you get a death threat, I want you to take it seriously," he growled as he gathered her up, preparatory to take-off. He had the medical team standing by in the tower, and the suit could get her there faster than a car.

"But Tony, I'm your CEO; we get them practically every day..." Pepper's voice trailed off as he shot into the sky with her.

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Afterwards, Peggy didn't realize she was staring at Steve until he turned and caught her eye. The local authorities had arrived at last and were taking the mercenaries into custody, interviewing the civilians who had witnessed the interchange. Apparently the thugs had been hired by one of Stark's old enemies who had chosen to target Stark's CEO as a way of retaliating for past grievances. Steve had been giving his report of the events, but now he walked toward her.

"What do you think?" he asked hopefully, indicating his uniform.

He had kept the old patriotic look. Peggy's heart abruptly felt too large for her chest.

Howard and the public relations department had put a lot of thought into the design of his original uniform, after Steve had expressed his interest in retaining the theme of his USO costume. "It makes him look larger than life," some of the officers had said. Only the people who knew Steve Rogers understood that the suit was not an exaggeration, but rather an expression of the man he truly was inside.

Peggy suddenly discovered she couldn't breathe. She had thought, over the last few days, that she had grown used to Steve being alive. Now as he stood in front of her, looking so much like he had on that awful last day, the powerful realization swept over her again. He was not lying crushed to death in the lonely wreck, or frozen in the snow as he tried to crawl to civilization. Steve was alive and breathing - and right now he was looking down at her, forehead rumpled in concern.

"Peggy?" he asked softly, and she realized she had caught a fold of his uniform tight in one hand. With a shuddering breath, she tried to let go, but her fingers refused to unclench. Instead, she looked back up into his face and could see that he understood. Eyes intent on hers, he covered her hand with his and took a step closer, standing so near that she could feel the warmth and magnetism of his presence surround her.

They had stood at this crossroads before, but duty and tragedy had intervened and the dance they both dreamed of had never been realized. Now, against all odds, they had been granted a second chance, and she was jolly well not going to lose it.

"Excuse me miss, but we need your statement now." A short policeman was at her elbow, clipboard at the ready. With one last steadying breath, Peggy was finally able to open her fist and smile graciously, despite a flash of annoyance at being interrupted.

"Certainly," she agreed, and followed the shorter man away, an extra sway to her step. Steve was still watching her, she knew, and the thought was exhilarating. Stopping suddenly, she turned on one heel. "Oh, Captain?"

Steve straightened, eyebrows raised inquiringly. His hair was sticking up from when he'd pulled off his helmet, and she had to fight to hide her smile, though she had never been more serious. "Don't you dare stand me up this time."

"No, ma'am," he promised, and although the words were spoken lightly, she knew they carried as much weight as the most solemn oath. "I won't."

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Pepper spray is an orange nonlethal pressurized liquid made out of very hot peppers, and when aimed at the eyes, can temporarily blind or disable an attacker. It's not legal in some countries, but is used in the USA.

Steve's reference to his old Colt refers to the Colt M1911A1, which was the handgun he was shown using in Captain America: The First Avenger. Interestingly, Peggy selected the same model to shoot at his shield in that movie.

Thank you for the lovely reviews, people! They really make me very happy, and I like knowing what parts you enjoy. It's payback for all the time I put into this tale.

Thoughts?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. I only own the story.