Chapter Four: Steve Rogers

(Five Months Ago)

Wearing his "uniform" was unnatural, Steve decided as he tugged on the brown jacket. His pins hung on his side. Anyone who saw him would know instantly who he was. He was being stupid, going to this veterans' night thing. Who knew if Maggie would even be there? Before he could change his mind Steve pushed open the door, bell chiming above him.

He was met with the sounds of the 40s, old couples swaying happily to the music. Maggie stood off to the side, watching everyone with a saddened expression. It disappeared the moment she met Steve's eyes. However, Steve knew the type of look she had. She was missing someone, and she had only momentarily made the pain disappear.
"Steve?" she said, strolling over to him. "I didn't know you served."
"Hey, Maggie," he said, tugging at the collar of his uniform again. He gave her a small smile. "You don't have to pretend not to recognize me, you know."
"Captain Rogers, then," she said, smiling at him. "Welcome."

The music came to a stop, couples clapping at each other. A livelier tune started up.
"Care for a dance?" Steve asked.
"You know swing?" she questioned, taking his outstretched hand.
"Of course, I do. I'm old." She laughed at him, hair flying around as he spun her.

Suddenly, a memory hit Steve, causing him to stumble mid song. Maggie let out a small yelp, tripping on his foot. She went crashing to the ground. A few couples gasped but she was on her feet in a moment. She laughed, shaking her head when Steve went to apologize.
"No need, Captain." She moved away from him as he ducked to the corner.

An older man with white hair hobbled up to him.
"Thank you for your service, son," the man said.
"I wish I could have done more."
"No, I wish I could have done more."
"What do you mean?"
"So many men sacrificed themselves to win the war while I stood in the back, patching up soldiers. I was an Army Medic."
"You saw some of the worst of us," Steve murmured.
"That I did, son. That I did… I was in that camp when you came roaring in with the men behind you. Such a joyous occasion that was. Then a few months later Sargent Barnes and you were gone. You changed a lot of people when you crashed that plane. You saved the world."

Steve smiled faintly, looking away from the man to watch Maggie dancing with an older woman. The woman had grey pin curls, wearing a SSR uniform.
"You saw someone else, didn't you?" the man asked. "When you were dancing with Miss Maggie."
"My girl… from back before."
"She still alive?"
"Yeah, Alzheimer's is taking her away though."
"My wife, Darlene, went through the same. On the good days, I forgot she was sick, on the bad day however…"
"I promised her a dance before I went under. Told her a time and place. Sometimes I wonder if she went and waited." The man gave him a sympathetic smile.
"Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. Would it change how you feel if you knew."
"Not at all."

The man followed Steve's eyes to where they were stuck on Maggie.
"She reminds you of her?"
"She's so different. Peg's hair was dark and definitely not as long."
"Is different a good thing?"
"I don't know… I just—I wanted to dance. I haven't danced in so long."
"Go ask for another dance," the man suggested. "She'll do it."
"How do you know?"
"I'm old, son. And I was married and had a daughter." Steve chuckled lightly.
"What's your name sir?"
"If I tell you, will you go ask Miss Maggie for another chance?"
"Sure, why not."
"Lee. Stan Lee."
"Well Mr. Lee, thank you for your advice."
"Go dance now."

Stan shooed him off and Steve crossed the room to Maggie once more.
"Can I have another dance?" he asked. "I promise not to let you fall." Maggie took his outstretched hand, letting him pull her onto the floor for a waltz.

He held her close but let room between them as they swayed across the room.
"What made you decide to come today?" she asked softly.
"I wanted to dance."
"Well, welcome to Barlowe Studios."
"You're a barista and a dance instructor?"
"Yeah. Pays the bills. It isn't cheap to live in DC."
"That's true."
"So, Steve, how long have you been in DC?"
"Couple weeks. Work brought me here."
"Work brings most of us here, I've learned."
"What about you?"
"All my life, actually. My grandmother worked in the government."
"Ah. Secret service?"
"Something like that. I don't know all the specifics of course."

Spinning her around once, Steve smiled when she was back in his arms.
"You dance incredibly well for someone frozen in ice," Maggie remarked.
"It's all muscle memory."
"That it is."

The song slowed to a stop and Steve pulled away from Maggie. He tipped his hat to her.
"I ought to head home."
"See you tomorrow for coffee?" Maggie asked.
"Couldn't miss it." He walked away, a light spunk to his step. He didn't realize how her eyes followed him out the door nor did he see Stan's knowing look as he watched the young people.

He took the long way home, riding his bike through the streets of DC. He would have to report to Zoë soon. He hated that. Even being "free" he still was reporting to people, getting in trouble if he missed anything. Of course, Zoë gave him some leeway, but she was still a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. It was either his job or hers on the line and like most agents, she chose herself. But he couldn't fault her. Maybe she wouldn't mind if he missed one more check-in. He would just buy her lunch to make up for it. That was their usual routine.

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