"This seat taken?"
She turns to see a handsome man gesturing to the cozy chair next to hers. It's technically set with hers and a small coffee table between them. But she doesn't have anyone joining her. "No, it's free."
He grins, "thanks, this place is packed."
She glances around and it is true. Not another seat in sight.
"No problem." She responds going back to her notes and laptop.
He settles in, pulling out a laptop and some books. In her peripheral she studies him a bit. He's quite dashing looking. Blue eyes and soft eyelashes.
Maybe half an hour later she feels a tap on her armchair. She looks up, pulling out her headphones, "yes?"
He points to the drink counter, "I'm going to grab a drink. Can I grab you anything? To repay you for letting me sit here and also for saving it while I'm gone?"
She chuckles softly, "There's no need, I'll save it free of payment."
He frowns, "come on, I want to, please let me, you'd be allowing me to be a gentleman."
She briefly considers it and then rolls her eyes in an amused way, "sure. Iced caramel macchiato please."
He grins, "you got it."
—
When he returns, he hands her her drink and straw and sits back down, "is that good? I've never had one."
She nods, "I like it. I can't say I'm a black coffee drinker though, so perhaps you'd think it was too sweet."
He shrugs, "I don't prefer coffee black. I'll have to try it sometime."
She sips the drink, and then looks at the cup, "James?"
He looks up, seeing where she's looking, "Oh, yeah. That's my name James."
She nods, "nice to meet you James. I'm Peggy."
His smile is a bit more… she can't explain it, more charming as he extends a hand, "nice to meet you."
She shakes it, "nice to meet you too."
—
Later, she decides to be bold enough to tap on his armchair. He looks up from his textbooks, "yeah?"
"I'm hungry. And coffee cake isn't going to cut it. Would you like something from the deli next store?"
His eyes light up and he's nodding. "Oh, for sure. I'll watch your seat and stuff?"
She smiles, "thank you." She tries to protest but he hands her a 20 dollar bill.
"Listen, my order is big." He jokes, "not worth insulting you with the price."
She laughs and takes it along with the scrap of paper that has his order.
—-
They're eating their sandwiches, having ordered another set of drinks (as to not piss off the coffee shop owners for eating from somewhere else) when he asks,
"So what are you studying?"
After swallowing her bite, she gestures to her laptop. "Law. Unfortunately."
He laughs, "not your first choice?"
She wrinkles her nose, "unfortunately it was. I don't even know what I was thinking." Then she gestures to his stack, "what about you?"
"Structural engineering."
Her eyes widen, "that sounds complicated."
He sighs, "yeah, my feelings are similar to yours. Who knew how complicated a building could be."
She chuckles, "listen, if you told me bridges were put together using magic I would believe you."
His laugh echoes through the little shop and she feels pleased.
—-
"Do you study here often?"
"Depends on the week." She replies, "but often enough."
"So…" He is leaning forward, looking perfectly harmless but with a mischievous grin, "should I ask for your number now? Or perhaps next time?"
His bravery makes her grin and she types it into his phone.
—-
Six dates later she ends up at his apartment.
His hands are on her waist and in her hair and she's trying to catch her breath as he kisses her neck.
He moves to her lips and the twinge of something happens again. She can't explain it. He's perfectly handsome. He's been gentlemanly and kind. Not forceful at all, in fact other than flirting, she's been the one to push things each step further. Perhaps her frayed nerves from studying have been affecting her.
But when they kiss… it feels weird. Wrong. Like… they're off sync. She kept thinking she was imagining it. Every time they'd kiss or he'd peck her on the lips goodnight she just thought she was making a big deal out of nothing.
But now he pauses, looking at her strangely. And she wrinkles her nose.
"You feel it too?"
She laughs, "what, like we can't seem to get into rhythm?"
He nods, putting a small bit of space between them but still holding her waist, "it does feel that way."
"Well," she tries to think of something, "perhaps just new dynamics?"
He shrugs, "maybe."
She looks about the apartment, "how long have you lived here?"
He shakes his head, "I've lived in Brooklyn all my life. But this place for just the last few years."
"I'm surprised you can afford it." She says, "it's quite large." She studies the decorations and furniture and how it's arranged, "it's really quite cozy."
He grins at her, "well it's actually not mine. It was my roommate's grandparents. It's rent controlled, thankfully. And the design is all him."
"They didn't want to give it to his parents?"
He winces, "his parents are both gone. So it's his."
"Ah…" she feels bad for asking, glad he's not present. "Well… I…" she doesn't know what to do, perhaps just call it quits? "I'm not sure how to proceed."
"Maybe…" he starts, "we just need time."
She huffs a laugh, feeling like the whole situation is ridiculous, "I don't think time will heal us. I can't explain it, since you're perfectly lovely—" he grins, "And all the dates have been good fun but… I don't think we're meant to be."
He mock frowns, "you're giving up that easy?"
She glares at him lightly before approaching him, then she points to the doors, "which one is yours?"
He leads her to a bedroom. There's a pile of laundry on a chair and the bed isn't made but other than that it's decent. She pushes him down onto the bed and then joins him, leaning over, starting to kiss him. They manage to both remove their shirts, and he's quite a handsome form she'll admit.
But just as before it's like they can't move together correctly. He tilts into an angle but she goes the opposite. His skin is too warm and she's too cold.
She can tell he can feel it too since he doesn't make a move to remove her bra. She's about to say something when a door slams open, making them both startle. "Hey!" A voice calls, "finished my test early! You wanna get dinner at Nebula's?"
She pulls back and raises an eyebrow and he winces, "shit, he's home early." Her lips press together to keep in a laugh. "Sorry."
"I'm not worried. I don't think we were going to continue, do you?" He sighs and she does laugh softly then. "Don't you agree? Someone or something is trying to warn us that we're not right for each other."
He laughs, his head back on the pillow. "Well, that sucks because you're gorgeous and smart and really the type of girl I'm into."
She pats his bare stomach, sitting beside him, "well, maybe that just means we're meant to be good friends. Right place, wrong person?"
He's about to answer when she feels the air of a door being pulled open, followed quickly by an "oh—" and then a door closing fast.
James groans and calls out, "it's fine, Steve! We weren't doing anything."
But there's no response.
He laughs and looks at her, "he once did catch me with a girl in the act. Think I scarred him." He hands her her shirt and she slips it on.
"How often do you bring girls back here?"
"Not often." He says seriously, "I promise, I'm not a sleeze." She wrinkles her nose at his choice of words but he's just grinning. "Maybe I'll see you around?" He asks.
Peggy nods, "I'm sure we can study some more. I'll still save you a seat."
After a few more minutes, he leads her out of his room and they both share a laugh at the securely closed other bedroom door.
—-
Two Years Later
"Listen," Natasha snaps, "I don't give a flying rat's ass if he wants a prenuptial agreement. I'm not signing. We're either totally committed or we're not getting married."
Peggy sips at her soda, "I don't know. What if you have some insane family heirloom? I feel like there are contingencies for wanting one."
"If you're marrying someone, wouldn't you want to be able to trust them? Even with those precious family things?"
She tilts her head, "I'm honestly surprised." Peggy gestures to the woman sitting in the booth across from her, "you're usually so practical. I'm surprised you're not pro-prenup."
Natasha's eyes roll as she eats more fries, "marriage is a big deal. Planning for it to fail is planning for it to fail."
Peggy considers her words. She doesn't necessarily agree. Not after the case studies she's seen, but she does understand the sentiment. Natasha's home growing up was unorthodox.
"Only one year left." Natasha continues, "can't freaking wait."
Peggy nods in agreement, "you've got that right. But then it's just actual work forever. I'm worried I'm never going to have a life."
"I've already offered—"
"I'm not going on another blind date."
"I'm just saying—"
"Listen, it's fine that he was into archery but he's so into archery. Like… What am I supposed to do with that?"
Natasha laughs and then gestures to the waiter, "can we get more french fries."
The man nods, taking their empty container. "He was blonde, so I just figured you'd be into him."
Peggy blinks, '"hat?"
Natasha's picking beneath her nails, "that's your thing."
She frowns, "what? No, it's not."
Green eyes flick up to hers in disbelief, "are you kidding me? You have a total thing for blonde guys."
The accusation makes her pause, "I do?"
The laugh she receives makes her frown even more but Natasha holds up a placating hand, "I thought you knew."
"I don't think I ever put that together. I've thought brunettes and men with black hair are handsome."
"It's not that you don't find other hair colors attractive. It's that if you think of all the celebrities you've ever been attracted to, they're all blonde. If you're pointing out a cute man at the mall, he's blonde. Now if any color hair initiates contact, you're amenable. But you have a thing for blondes."
"Oh…" She grins, "I don't think I ever realized it."
—
"No, I'm going to get it printed now, I—"
She's too late, the door swinging open and the voice speaking only gives her a second of time. She squeaks, trying to avoid the door but it clips her shoulder and she stumbles back.
"Hey, woah!" She feels hands grab her and steady her." A clutter of papers and cardboard flutter around their feet.
She looks up to see two wide blue eyes, "I'm so sorry, I'm really— like, so sorry. I was not paying attention and hit the door too hard, I'm sorry—"
Peggy gets her own balance and stands straight. His arms release her and she feels the anxious chuckle leave her mouth from the adrenaline, "it's fine. I'm in one piece."
She looks at the ground which is now littered with what looks like canvases and art supplies. He'd literally dropped everything to try to catch her. "Here—" she bends down to start collecting things and he startles.
"Oh, no you don't have too—"
His forehead knocks against hers harshly as he tries to stop her from helping him and she winces as she steps back.
Mortified eyes look at her, and she notices the glasses are tipped askew, "I'm literally so so—"
"Sorry" she huffs, now a bit out of sorts, "I get it."
The man winces and gestures to her, "is your head alright?"
"I'll manage." She says shortly, "I really need to get to class."
He nods vigorously, "of course. Sorry, I'm—" he grimaces, "sorry."
Her smile is tight lipped as she steps around his supplies and keeps walking.
—
Except the bruise that appears makes her annoyance flare. She has to give a mock deposition in front of her whole class with a monstrous bruise and she can see Jack Thompson's smirk from all the way at the back of the class.
If she ever sees that boy again she's going to give him a piece of her mind.
—-
"It's been like a week!" She groans, "this needs to disappear. I'm not going to my meeting with my advisor looking like I've been the victim in a board game."
Natasha snorts, "Peggy Carter, in the hallway, with the art idiot."
She glares at her mirror and huffs.
—
"Hello, is this Margaret Carter?
She tries to keep her excitement down, "yes, it is."
"This is Stark, Stane and Associates. We'd like to inform you that your application has moved to the second round and you are asked to attend an in person interview."
"That's wonderful news," she replies, "I will be there. When?"
She's given a date and a time and she hangs up. She turns to Natasha and the squeal she elicites in answer enough for her roommate to cheer.
—-
They're at a party when she sees him two weeks later.
He's standing in the corner, talking to someone she can't see through the crowd. But his thick glasses are a give away.
"Hold this." She growls, shoving her drink into Natasha's hands.
"Why?" Natasha calls after her, but she's making a beeline for him. He'd made her have a bruise for almost two weeks. Even had it for her Senior Class photo although she'd worn heavy makeup.
"Hey!" She calls, but over the din he doesn't hear her. "Hey!" She calls again, now right behind him. She even tugs on his sleeve.
He turns, looking confused, then his eyes widen.
"Next time you want to think you're being gentlemanly by not letting the poor little woman bend down and help you, how about you just shove your knight in shining armor attitude where the sun doesn't shine! I had a bruise on my forehead for two weeks!"
His eyes are wide behind the thick lens glasses.
His mouth parts in surprise and people are definitely looking at them.
"Uh—" he says, "I—"
"Stop apologizing!" She snaps, "just maybe pay attention to your surroundings so you don't end up giving a concussion to every person on campus. Understood?!"
Then she's stalking away, two very distressed blue eyes on her back.
Natasha meets her halfway, "what the hell? Where did you go?"
"Just yelled at the idiot who gave me the forehead bruise."
Natasha grins, "oh really? Where is he? I wanna meet this idiot."
Peggy turns, but the man is gone, "he probably took off. Good riddance. He'd probably knock down some other unsuspecting parties if given the time."
"Too bad." Natasha says with a smirk, "I would have yelled at him for you too."
Peggy sips at her drink and nods, "a true mark of friendship."
—-
Peggy dresses impeccably for her interview, arrives perfectly on time and waits calmly.
When she's pulled into a large boardroom, she is unsurprised to see that it's filled with the heads of the firm and a few others she doesn't recognize.
"We're interviewing for an internship position." The bald man, Stane she believes, says, "but we're really looking for an addition to our firm. If you receive the internship and impress us, you will be made a permanent fixture. Blow us away and perhaps your name will be added to the list of partners in a few years, hmm?"
She grins, "yes, sir. I understand."
At the end of the interview, she feels very certain that she has it in the bag. She can tell they seem impressed not only with her score on the Bar exam but also her grades and list of extracurriculars. Her recommendation letters are nothing short of raving and she's positive she would do well with their firm.
After shaking their hands, she's walking out the door when she almost bumps into someone.
Brown eyes and messy hair greet her.
"Excuse me." She states politely slipping past him and out to the lobby.
"Hey—" She turns, and the man she'd just almost bumped into studies her, "huh. No way." Then he disappears into the room and she's left confused. But when nothing else happens, she takes her leave.
—
We regret to inform you that you have not been selected for the Stark, Stane, and Associates Internship—-
Her mouth is hanging open in disbelief staring at the words. "What—" She stands, disbelief and rejection and anger flooding her, "What!" It's a shriek and she knows it's too loud for that particular hour in the morning.
Natasha grumbles and sits up, "what, Carter?"
"I didn't get it." She rasps out.
"Didn't get what?"
"The Stark internship. I don't understand… It went so well."
Natasha is climbing out of her bed and coming over. She squints at the computer and then frowns, "that sucks, Peggy. I'm sorry."
"No," Peggy says, "this isn't possible. I know I was their best candidate. I know I was."
Natasha shrugs, "maybe you weren't—"
"I was!" She snaps. Grabbing her purse and shoving her phone inside it. Then she's pulling on her shoes.
"Where are you going?"
She yanks open the door and storms out, "to ask why."
She's pretty sure Natasha yells something to try to stop her. She ignores it.
—-
She has to wait two hours for the firm to even open.
But when it does, she talks to the confused receptionist about meeting with Mr. Stark.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark isn't in today."
"Is Mr. Stane?"
She checks her calendar and nods, "yes, he's here but he leaves in 10 minutes to meet with a client."
"Please, can you ask him if I can speak with him? It will only take a moment."
The woman raises an eyebrow but picks up a phone. After a brief conversation the woman points her towards an elevator. "17th floor. Third door on your right."
Peggy nods, "thank you."
—
"Margaret Carter."
"Mr. Stane, thank you for meeting with me. I promise not to take much of your time."
"What can I do for you?"
"I received the email that I was not selected for the internship." His face is impassive, so she forges on, "and I'm not here to beg for it, I'm simply here to ask why. What areas was I lacking in that influenced that decision?"
"None." The man says with a grin, "none at all. You were actually both of our first choice."
Her confusion rises and she tilts her head, "oh… if that's so… then… why wasn't I selected?"
Stane stands, grabbing a suit coat and slipping his arms through the thing. "Funnily enough, it wasn't anything on your resume. It was you. Stark's son knows you from your university. He said we shouldn't hire you because you're a real…" he grimaces, "a word I'm not going to repeat right now. But you get the picture. Now, I didn't really have a preference either way. But Stark listens to his kid. The person we did select is only marginally less qualified than you and seems to be a real good guy. So it's not a big loss on our end." Stane rolls his eyes, "anyways, I hope that clears things up for you. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
She's too stunned to respond and he shuffles her out of his office and back to the elevator while she still can't think of a single thing to say.
—-
"Wait… How do you know Tony Stark?"
She's still numb, blank, as they sit at the coffee shop. The green leather seat feels cold on her skin, and the usually coziness feels crowded. "I don't." She whispers out, a mug being held in her hands, "I don't know him. I've never met him."
Natasha sets her mug on the little table between them and taps her foot on the old wooden floor, "that doesn't make any sense. Why would he claim you're a—" she makes a waving gesture, "whatever the word he chose was."
But Peggy doesn't know. She has no idea.
She just sits quietly, not drinking her drink.
—
A day later her numbness has turned to righteous anger and she's determined to fix this or at least get to the bottom of it.
It takes her four days of subtle sleuthing but she manages to discover a bit of his class schedule and she does what any 'sane' person would do and waits outside one of his classes.
She hears the professor wrapping up and she sits outside the door, facing it, so she won't miss him.
He exits, a bag slung over his shoulder and a phone in his hand.
"Excuse me." She says, standing, "Tony Stark?"
He looks up, and his facial expression turns into a frown at the sight of her. "Yeah?"
His reaction confuses her. But she recognizes him now. The man she almost bumped into at the firm.
Had that been the reason? Surely not. And he'd seemed annoyed by her then now that she thinks about it.
"I'm Peggy Carter—"
"I know who you are."
She's stunned for a second but then clears her throat, "I think there's been some sort of mistake. I don't believe we've ever met—"
"No mistake. You're right. We haven't."
Again she's stunned, then she shakes her head, "alright, I'm confused then. Mr. Stane stated you told them not to hire me. That you had choice words for my character."
"Yeah. I did."
"But we've never met—"
"Maybe not officially. But I know who you are."
She frowns, "and how exactly do you know who I am?"
"You don't remember?"
"Obviously I don't—"
"Yeah, that's because you were too busy yelling."
"Excuse me?"
His grin is mocking, "I was right there, when you yelled at my friend at that party. You don't even know him and you were just a straight up bitch to him. So yeah, I think I've got a pretty clear idea of who you are."
Her lips part in surprise, "I—"
She can't think of anything to say. That answer being the furthest thing that she could have possibly accounted for.
"See ya around." He says flippantly as he starts to walk away.
And everything comes rushing into focus. She's going to lose the internship she's worked more than four years for if she doesn't fix this.
"Wait—" she calls out, "wait." She steps after him, catching up, "you don't understand."
He looks at her with a disbelieving eyebrow as they walk into the central campus, "oh? I don't?"
"I was…" she winces, "perhaps I was unfair, but I'd had a bruise because of him for two weeks and I'd had to interview and give presentations with it and it was embarrassing—"
The man snorts and then rolls his eyes, "boohoo. You had a bruise? Oh no."
She bristles at his flippancy, "perhaps its different for men, but when—"
"No—" he cuts her off, "no. I understand the argument you're about to start, probably use your lawyer skills but I don't give a shit." He turns, stopping and causing her to halt as well. "You yelled at him for one of hi—" the guy cuts himself off and just waves at her, "listen. You want to be a jerk to strangers? Fine. But then that gives me the freedom to do the same. Especially when those strangers are jerks to his friends."
She's shocked into silence as he starts walking again.
He's five steps away when she knows she's lost this battle. Now it's time to grovel. Which she hates.
She catches back up and gestures to him, "alright. I understand where you're coming from. I shouldn't have yelled and I let my temper get the best of me. Please, please tell me what I can do to fix it. I swear I've literally never yelled at someone like that before. That actually is not who I am at all. I—" Suddenly it all becomes clear. How stupid the whole situation was. She'd yelled at a guy simply for being clumsy. She heaves a deep sigh, "shit."
He eyes her with a questioning eyebrow and waits.
"I know I was wrong. What can I do to make it up to you?"
"Why? So you can get the internship spot?"
She frowns, "while I won't lie and say that's not part of it. I'm more interested in the fact that…" now she does feel horrible, "I can't believe I acted that way over a minor inconvenience. As annoying as the bruise was, I shouldn't have taken it out on him. It was an accident. And I don't want people to think that's who I am. Like you, you've never met me, that's your only perspective, I can't have that."
Thankfully he seems to consider this and he gestures to a building she's unfamiliar with, "I have spent three years trying to get him to go to a party. And the very first time I get him to go, some chick— no offense— comes up and screams at him? That sucked. So first and foremost, you gotta apologize to him."
She winces, "I really am sorry. I had no idea, I was just… caught up in my own stresses."
"Sounds like something you should be saying to him."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Probably in class." He points to the same building again. "No time like the present."
"Alright," she agrees, "do you know which classroom? I've never been in that building before."
He nods and leads her inside.
—
Once he deposits her outside of another classroom, he leaves, stating that if the guy knew Tony had interfered he'd be upset.
So she sits there yet again, waiting for the class to end.
—-
He's the second to last person to exit the classroom. She stands upon seeing him and his eyes catch her. He freezes, looking worried she might start yelling at him again.
"I'm sorry." She states right off the bat. "I—" she steps closer as the last person brushes past them both, "you didn't deserve me yelling at you that night, and I've just really come to realize what a complete bitch I was to you. And I wanted to apologize."
"I didn't mean to." He blurts out.
It takes her a second to realize he's talking about their initial reaction. "No, I know. That's why I'm here. I was having a very stressful month and I took it out on you for an accident. So again, I am truly sorry." She holds out her hand, "I'm Peggy Carter."
His hands are full but he shuffles it and manages to grasp her hand, "Steve Rogers."
"It's nice to meet you Steve. Can I…" She looks at the clock that hangs off the wall in the hallway, "can I treat you to a meal to say sorry for being so horrid?"
In his stunned silence she studies him. He's just about her height, lanky, thin but strong boned. He's actually incredibly handsome, something vintage about him, and blonde. Natasha's comment makes an appearance and she shoves the thought aside. His glasses magnify his eyes a bit, making them seem wide and more expressive. He seems withdrawn or at least maybe that's just with her since she yelled at him.
"You don't have to." He says slowly, "I appreciate the apology. But I did give you a bruise, so I'd say we're even."
The simple way he says that makes it very clear he'd taken what she'd yelled at him to heart.
"We are not even. Please, I'd like to treat you to lunch to make up for it. Please allow me?"
He shrugs, "okay, I guess?"
She nods, "good."
—-
She decides the deli is an adequate place. Not too far off campus but allowing for a quick and decent meal.
He orders quickly letting her know he's familiar with the place. They sit at a booth and he stares at the sandwich.
She starts eating hers and he takes that as a cue, eating his.
"So," she starts after swallowing her bite, "tell me about yourself?"
"Um…" he wipes his face with a napkin and looks around, "I'm an art major."
She huffs out a laugh, "I'd guessed that one."
He grimaces, "oh yeah."
"What else?"
"I'm from Brooklyn." He states, "and…" his voice trails off, "I don't know what else."
She frowns, "that's quite the short list of things to know about yourself."
His hands hold the plastic half bowl the sandwich is in and he spins it slowly, "What do you want to know?"
"I was just asking for conversation. I'm not trying to pry." She teases.
His expression relaxes a tad and he huffs out a humored breath, "I know, I'm just not very good at small talk."
"Ah," she continues to tease, "you're a big talker then." His smile falls to a frown and she laughs. "Not that either?"
"Let's just say I'm not the social one of my group of friends."
Tony's words about convincing him to go to a party rings in her mind.
"Oh? Any particular reason?"
"Maybe because I'm always getting yelled at."
She blinks, eyes widening but then she catches the small smirk and she scoffs, "that was low."
He seems to be pleased with his joke and smiles at her, something he hadn't done yet.
And oh my.
Her heart skips a beat at the way it makes his eyes crinkle and the dimples show.
"What about you?" He asks, not catching her stunned reaction to his smile, "you're obviously not from Brooklyn."
She clears her throat and shakes her head, "you're correct. I came here specifically because this college is well ingrained with one of the firms I want to work for. They usually only accept interns from here. So I moved over to the states for university."
"Wow." He says, looking impressed, "that's commitment."
"Well," she responds easily, "it's my future. It's important."
"How do your parents feel about it? You said it's where you want to work so… that means you left home at 18 for another country for the foreseeable future… that must have been hard."
She hadn't thought about it quite like that. "I suppose." She agrees softly, "but my mother and I were always at odds anyways. And space is good."
He grins, "that's a lot of space."
She laughs, "indeed."
"So you're going to be a… you said firm. So a lawyer?"
Peggy nods, "indeed. I hope so at least. That's the goal."
"What kind of law?"
"Criminal Law I hope. I'd like to make a difference for our justice system."
"Admirable." He says honestly, "I hope you do."
"And you. You said artist. But is that traditional? Like you want to create art and sell it? Or perhaps another venue?"
"I'd like to." Steve responds, "my specialty is sculpture. But like everyone tells me, art can be a very difficult way of life. So I'm willing to be open to perhaps a more stable form that provides liveable income."
"Which would be?"
He grimaces, "Simple prints for hotels and businesses. You know, non offending art." His lips pull up in a half smile like he's told a joke to himself. "Or maybe teaching at a studio."
"Well," she grabs her sandwich, "whatever you choose. Hope it works out."
He nods, "same for you."
His phone on the table buzzes and he looks down at the name. "Sorry, one sec."
He slides to answer, "hey, Tony." A question she can't hear. "No, I'm not on campus. Bucky should be at the apartment though if you need to grab it right away."
A pause and she sees color rise up from his neck as he clears his throat, "no, I'm just out grabbing lunch."
It's almost cruel since she knows what information Tony is trying to pry out of him.
"Just—" Steve seems agitated, "can we talk later?"
He hangs up and she pretends to not have any clue, "everything alright?"
He nods, "oh yeah, it's fine."
She takes another bite as does he and they're quiet for a bit. "So, Steve, what do you like to sculpt?"
—-
An hour later she's watching him walk back off campus and she heads towards her dorm.
And she feels like a complete asshole. He is literally one of the kindest, most sincere and likable people she'd ever met and she'd yelled at him. Of course he seemed to forgive her and move on right after she'd apologized, but now her behavior was haunting her.
Because…
Damn, she liked him.
—
The next day she gets a call.
"Hello?"
"Yes, hello, Margaret Crater?"
"Yes?"
"Hello, this is Elaine from Stark, Stane and Associates. I'm calling to inform you that there's been a change in our internship policies and we are pleased to offer you a position with us if you're still available?"
"Yes," she says quickly, "yes, thank you. Thank you!"
The woman gives her some details that she dutifully writes down and then hangs up. And she squeals loud enough to wake Natasha again.
—-
"Wait, what? How?"
She explains the story to Natasha, "and so I went to apologize to the guy I'd bumped into, Steve, and—"
Natasha's hand shoots out, "an art major named Steve?"
Peggy nods, "yes. Steve."
Natasha's eyes widen, "Thin? Blonde? Glasses?"
Peggy looks at her strangely, "yes… how did you know?"
"You yelled at Steve?!"
Peggy's head shakes, fingers pressed to her temples, "yes, that's his name. You know him?"
"Know him!" Natasha splutters, "I took a website design class with him! He's the one I wanted to set you up on a blind date with after Clint!"
Peggy's mouth drops open, "you're joking!"
"No, I am not!" Natasha laughs, "Steve Rogers, right?"
Peggy is flabbergasted, "yes."
Natasha laughs, "oh holy hell what are the coincidences!" Then the woman slugs her on the shoulder, "but also don't ever yell at him again! He's so sweet!"
Peggy groans, "I know, I'm now well aware."
"What?"
So Peggy finishes her story, "—and he was literally the most perfect attentive person and I really wanted to ask for his number but I'd yelled at him and I doubt he would want mine and I've gone and mucked this whole thing up."
Natasha is quiet for a long minute before she taps her fingers on the desk and shakes her head, "no, Steve's not like that. He's really nice. If he didn't try to disappear right after you apologized, he's not mad. You should totally try to ask him out."
"Wait, why were you in a website design course?"
"I want to run my own cyber security firm, Carter. I need a website."
"Oh." She groans, "you were really going to set me up with him?"
Natasha nods, "yep. And you turned me down."
"Was he willing?"
Her smirk turns to a frown, "I hadn't actually asked him yet. I was waiting for you to say yes."
"How well do you know him?"
"Not too well. Just from that class. I just got this vibe from him, that he was one of the good ones, you know?"
"And… you weren't interested?"
"I've got a thing for brunettes."
Peggy laughs as Natasha smirks at her.
—
She waits outside of his class again the next week and he seems doubly surprised to see her there. "Peggy?"
"Steve, hi."
"What are you doing here?"
"I…" she swallows down that slight fear of rejection and she steps closer to him, "I really enjoyed our lunch the other day. And I was…" she forces the words out, "wondering if you'd like to do it again."
He seems confused, looking around for a minute before turning back to her, "you want to eat lunch again… with me?"
"Of course." She answers quickly.
"You know I've already forgiven you for the yelling thing—"
She scoffs, "Steve! That's not what this is about. I genuinely enjoyed getting lunch with you. And I'd like to do it again."
He thinks about it for a second before his smile grows and he nods, "okay, yeah. I'd like that."
And she smiles at him in return.
—-
She's late to her next class but she doesn't care. Her lunch date with Steve had gone so well she'd almost decided to skip class altogether, but had thought the best of it when he'd asked her if she needed to get going.
But they were set to have dinner the next night and she couldn't wait.
—-
"I can walk you back to your dorm." He offers, seeming unsure if that's a broach of their level of engagement.
"I'd love that." She responds easily, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.
His smile grows as he looks down at her hand in his. They walk slowly, still talking, mostly about books, but they've covered important things like, what food they prefer and how many pairs of shoes is too many. (She'd said 17 and he'd said 4. They'd argued for a bit until they'd settled on agreeing to disagree).
He was ever so charmingly sweet. Somehow a flirt even in his shyness. They're discussing whether one should see a movie before or after reading the book when they reach her dormitory.
She wants him to kiss her. Most boys try on the second date or perhaps even at the end of the first if they're being cheeky.
But he just hugs her and bids her goodbye, leaving her with an amused little huff of disappointment.
—
On their fourth date, she's tired of waiting.
After they'd left the little cafe, she'd gotten him back on campus and pulled him to one of the small gardens where there's a bench. He goes willingly, seeming to think she just wants more time.
When she gently pushes him to sit, she stands in front of him and crosses her arms over her chest.
He mimics her, thinking she's teasing him, but then she uses her knee to spread his legs and stand in between them.
He seems nervous, leaning back a bit. And she leans forward, "you haven't tried to kiss me yet."
He blinks at the statement and an awkward rigidness takes over him, "I didn't know you wanted me to." He says rather hoarsely.
She frowns, "I know you claim to not be social, but you're not socially inept. I've been pretty clear with my signals."
He winces, like he's been caught.
Peggy tilts her head, "do you not want to kiss me?"
He's frowning as he sighs, "I—"
She waits, still standing close to him.
"You know how you said…" he is staring far away, towards the glowing lights on the campus walkway, "that you're worried about never living up to your mom's expectations?"
The topic catches her off guard but she nods, she'd mentioned that on their last date, about her insecurities.
"I…" he frowns, "I have this friend. He's my roommate actually. And I've known him my whole life."
She moves, sitting beside him, facing him.
"He's like my brother, and…" he tips his head back, "he's always been so good with people you know? Like one of those naturals. His ma said he was born and his first smile was flirting with the nurses." She laughs and he chuckles too. "And I've watched how at ease he is with people but mostly with girls you know? They've always flocked to him. And for good reason, he's great, a really good guy. Which is why…" he sighs again and covers his face with his hands, "geez this sounds so pathetic."
"Nothing is pathetic so far, although I'm unsure where this is going."
"I haven't really dated much." He admits. "Yes, it's half because I'm not exactly putting myself out there, but also because…" He groans, "I've always been compared to him. In everything. He's always been first in everything that anyone else ever cared about—"
"Like?"
"Grades, sports, height, athletic ability, girls, fighting, everything."
"Fighting?"
He frowns, "it's a long story. It's just… I really really try not to have an inferiority complex about it—" She's startled, such a vulnerable thing to admit, "but it's hard not to."
"Does he know he makes you feel this way?"
He shakes his head, "oh no, I mean, he's never probably even noticed. I don't say anything—"
"So…" She rests her hand gently on his leg, "is this perhaps a bit in your own perception?"
He huffs a laugh devoid of all humor, "freshmen year I actually did have a girl say yes when I asked her out. But on the second date, I brought her back to my place, we were going to watch a movie. But Bucky, that's my roommate, he was there. She took one look at him and it was like I was invisible."
Peggy frowns, "I mean, that's horrible, but that's just one rude girl—"
"It's happened with three separate girls." He says flatly before he laughs sadly, "geez it sounds so lame. Like, that's why I have a complex about it. If I was better looking or more interesting or a better date wouldn't they still be interested in me?" He looks at her and there's instant regret, "I can hear how pathetic this sounds. Feel free to leave. I'd get it."
Her brows pull together, "now you listen here." She snaps, "I can't speak for other women, but I'm not some airheaded tramp who sees something sparkly and chases after it. And first, I'm offended for you because of the negative things you've just said about yourself. You are Incredibly handsome, and I find you an excellent conversationalist and quite fascinating. Second, I'm offended for myself that you would assume I would even find your roommate attractive and third, while I'm sure it's easier said than done, I would like you to ignore those insecurities and kiss me."
He huffs at her demand and raises an eyebrow, "you know, if you end up being like the others it's going to really hurt."
She laughs, "please, a man named Bucky? Not interested." He laughs and she leans forward, hands reaching to pull him closer, "I want you to kiss me, Steve. I'm asking you to do so."
He hesitates for one more second before giving in.
The way her nerves fire as his lips meet hers is like a little bit of magic.
—
"I mean, I could tell he hadn't kissed much, but damn I felt that spark." She's laying on her back on her dorm room bed talking to Natasha. "It just felt so right."
"Listen to you, Miss Kiss and Tell."
She grins widely.
—
Three more dates go by and she's thoroughly invested. It's like… she's never had someone so pure or just… hers. He's like the perfect gentleman. She can't explain it. Until she's pushing him up against a wall and he's a willing victim. He's funny in a way that makes her roll her eyes but laugh all the same. He never interrupts her, which is basically a characteristic out of a fairytale, and best of all, he's as head over heels for her as she is with him.
That's something that's always driven her nuts in previous relationships. She'll be putting in 100% effort and they'll put in 45-70% max. And being romantic? Forget it. Her boyfriends have always been too "manly" for that.
But Steve.
No, Steve leaves her a note in her bag that includes a little sketch of her yelling at him and him having wide sad cartoon eyes.
Steve brings her a coffee before her early morning class because it was "on his way".
Steve took her to an old theater downtown to see a movie that she'd mentioned hating and he thought they could mock it together.
She still hasn't met the roommate, but she doesn't begrudge him that. He's definitely an anxious sort. She finds it endearing even if it does mean he's still unsure of her loyalties. But she's patient and enjoying spending time with him so much she doesn't care.
—
"I need to go to the studio—" he says, breaking off their kiss and glaring at her, "stop distracting me."
She ignores him, sliding her fingers around his waist and kissing at his jaw and neck.
"Peggy, I need to—"
"Shh—" she admonishes, grabbing his chin and pulling him down to kiss him some more. It just feels so perfect. His lips are soft and cool, they meld to hers like they were two parts of a missing piece.
Eventually she releases him and he grins, "I'll meet you at the coffee shop okay?"
She nods, "I'll save you a seat. Text me your drink order and I'll text you my deli order."
He grins, kissing her cheek and nodding, "yes, ma'am."
Then he's gone and she's grinning all the way back to her dorm.
—-
She's sitting there, sipping at her drink and typing when she feels a tap on her arm. She looks up, smiling, expecting Steve when she blinks in surprise, "James!"
He grins, "Hey Peggy, look at you! I haven't seen you around in ages."
She pulls out her earbuds, "I know, my schedule these last few years has been madness, how are you?"
He shrugs, "pretty good. Ready to graduate. What about you? You get into that internship you always wanted?"
She feels touched he remembers, "I did actually, thank you for asking. What about you? Have an apprenticeship lined up?"
He nods, tapping his foot on the ground, "I do. It's a relief."
"I'm sure it is."
"You here to study?" She asks, suddenly worried she'll have to tell him the seat he's in is taken, but he shakes his head, "no, I'm just grabbing coffee before my next class."
"Well it was love—" the door jingles and she looks up, seeing Steve enter. He catches her eyes and waves, heading her way with the deli bag in hand. "—ly to see you." She finishes. "I'm sure I'll see you around?"
He's nodding, "yeah for sure. We should hang out again—"
Steve stops abruptly just a few feet from their chairs and stares at her, then to James.
"Steve!" James says with a grin, "hey, what are you doing here?"
Steve seems stunned, "What are you doing here?"
"Just grabbing coffee, talking to Peggy." He laughs, "I thought you said you had a study session?"
"I do—" his eyes flick to Peggy and she's confused.
"You two know each other?"
James laughs, "know each other? Peggy, this is Steve. My roommate." He points to Steve, "you remember her right? We went on a few dates," Then he slaps his hand against his forehead, "whoops, just kidding you guys never met." Then he laughs, "well, officially, the run-in my room probably doesn't count." He grins at Steve, "you didn't stick around long enough for an introduction.
Her blood is running cold and she can see Steve's face is draining of color as well.
"Your name is James." She whispers out.
He looks at her, "uh, yeah?"
Steve seems frozen, staring at her in disbelief.
This cannot be happening.
"Steve?" James asks, "are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost?"
He opens his mouth to say something but then he's dropping the deli bag on the ground and practically bolting out of the cafe.
She's frozen in her chair. This cannot be happening.
"Peggy?"
She turns to him, "you're Steve's roommate?"
He frowns, "yes, why?"
Her tone is accusing, "Steve said his roommate's name was Bucky."
His brows are furrowed, "that's my nickname, from when I was a kid."
"Oh hell." She breathes out, "oh bloody hell." She clamps her eyes shut, "this cannot be happening!"
She feels a hand on her arm, "what? What is it?"
Her stomach is rolling, nauseous. "This cannot be happening."
"Can you fill me in here please?" He seems genuinely worried and she looks up.
"Did Steve tell you he was dating anyone?"
James' face is a mixture of disbelief and surprise, "what? No, he's not."
She groans, covering her eyes with her hands, "I'm such an idiot!"
"What the hell are you talking about, Carter?!" Then he pauses, "wait… Steve said his roommate's name was Bucky? When have you been talking to Steve?"
She looks up, "we've been dating."
He practically gasps, "what!?"
She nods, "for a couple weeks now."
James stands, "what! No way! He never said—" Then his eyes widen and he freezes, "oh shit. Oh shit—" He's yanking his phone out of his pocket, "I need to find him—"
Then he's running out of the cafe, people are staring and she's left in shock.
—
"His roommate!?"
"Shhh!" Peggy groans, "don't alert the whole dormitory!"
"You dated Steve's roommate! Why!?"
"It was years ago and I had no idea! Steve referred to him by a childhood nickname. I had no bloody idea they would turn out to be one and the same!"
"What are you going to do?"
"I've tried calling, but he's not answering."
"Have you gone by his apartment?"
"I'm worried that's overreaching if he doesn't want to see me." Her heart is aching. After everything he'd said about his roommate. Not that she could have possibly known or guessed. She groans again, shoving her face into a pillow, "how on earth do I have the world's worst luck!"
"Beats me."
She removes the pillow and glares at her roommate. "Not helpful."
"Listen, it's actually incredible how terrible your luck is."
She makes a rude gesture to Natasha who just laughs.
—-
Three days later, with no contact, she decides to push it.
She knocks on his door and waits.
But it's James who answers. "He's not here."
Her foot stomps of it's own accord, "well where the bloody hell is he?"
"I don't know. He's been really quiet and out of the apartment a lot. He just keeps saying it's fine, it's not a big deal. But I know it is a big deal. He won't even let me broach the subject!" Then he groans, "not that I really blame him."
Peggy frowns, "why do you say that?"
He grimaces, "I just have a…" he sighs, "tendency for screwing up Steve's love life."
She gapes, "wait, you know you're screwing it up?"
He eyes her in confusion, "yea— wait, how do you know?"
"Before I knew it was you—" she starts, knowing she's going into sensitive territory, "He'd informed me that he wasn't keen on dating. When I pressed why… he sort of explained how he had bad luck with his roommate."
"Oh shit." Bucky breathes out, motioning for her to come inside. She does and feels thrown back in time. It's almost the same as it was a few years ago. "Listen, I don't even have an answer for that shit. It pisses me off as much as it probably hurts him."
"So you know it's happening?"
He looks furious, "you mean when girls just decide to stop paying attention to him because I'm in the room? Yeah, I fucking notice and it pisses me off!"
"What do you do about it?"
"Try to ignore them as best as possible. Not that it's ever freaking helped. Geez, what a mess."
She sighs, sinking into a chair, "I'll say."
"How are we going to fix this?" He asks her, "I can't be the reason Steve loses his shot at another girl." He says earnestly, "Especially when that girl is actually interested in him and not me—" She glares at him, but he's not paying attention, "and this is different. We just have to convince him it's different. We dated before. You didn't drop him for me. In fact, it's more like you dropped me because you were waiting for him!" He turns to her, a bit of hope on his features,"remember? You said, 'right place, wrong person'! You knew even then—" he gestures to the apartment, "you are meant to be here. But not with me, with Steve."
It's a hopeful speech, but she just sighs, "none of that matters if he won't listen."
He sags, "that's true. Maybe you could come back tonight?"
I finally convinced him to go to a party—-
An idea sprouts, "I might know where to find him right now."
—
It's actually scarily easy to locate the Stark's household address.
She and James walk up the brownstone stairs and ring the doorbell.
A man with a narrow face but a kind smile answers, "can I help you?"
"Yes, is Steve here?"
The man nods, "Mr. Rogers is here, can I tell him who is asking for him?"
James looks at her and she knows if they give either of their names it would probably end with him not coming to the door. So she panics.
"Tell him it's Natasha. From the website design class."
The man nods and disappears and James turns to her, "Natasha?"
She huffs, "I panicked! It's my roommate. She and Steve know each other… sort of."
He looks ready to argue but the door opens up and Steve stares at them.
And maybe she expects him to bolt or take off like he had before but this time he just looks at the two of them, as if he's not surprised to see them together.
"Steve."
And his face is calm as he replies, "you're not Natasha."
"No. I'm not." She grits out. "But I would still like to speak to you." She says firmly, "will you please listen?"
His eyes go to James and he sighs, "it's fine. I already told you it's no big deal."
"It is a big deal!" James responds, "but this time is different—"
"I understand why you think that." Steve responds, still calm and even, "but it's not that different to me." He turns to face her, "I know what you're going to say, right? That you dated him before? That it didn't work out so it's not the same? But it's the same to me. I'll always be wondering if you're comparing us, or our dates, or—" he wrinkles his nose, "other stuff and I just don't want to start a relationship like that." She goes to protest but he holds up a hand, "I'm glad that you care enough to come try to talk to me about it. That's really kind. It actually does make me feel better about the situation, but I just don't want a relationship to start like this. It's…" he looks apologetic, "I'm not in the right place for that."
The starkness of which he says these words cut her to the quick. He's erasing all her arguments, rendering them invalid. But she has to try. "Steve, you don't understand. I won't be comparing, I—-"
"But I will." He cuts her off gently. "This isn't an indictment on you. It's not you." He gives a sad huff of laughter, "It's me. I know that makes me immature or screams insecurity… but it's just true." He looks at James, "I'll be home in a bit, okay?"
And then he's shutting the door and she has no idea what to say to stop him from doing so.
—-
She and James sit down on the stone steps outside the Stark residence in silence.
The butler opens the door again a few minutes later, inquiring if they need anything. They respond "no" and Peggy is almost positive he's going to ask them to leave, but he gives a sad understanding smile and says nothing.
"We gotta make him see it's different." James says quietly after a few minutes. "We have to."
Her fingers scrape softly against the stone step and she sighs, "like he said… it's not different to him. I'm—" she huffs in frustration. "You know what really pisses me off?"
He looks at her, "what?"
"Back all those years ago, when we were going on dates—" she avoids the phrase 'when we were dating', "—I knew something was off from the first time you pecked me on the lips." He's watching her, "I ignored it, thinking I was overreacting or perhaps imagining a problem that wasn't there because I never have had an easy time with a relationship. And each kiss we shared was just more proof that we weren't meant to be and I—" she swipes dirt and bits of pebbles off the step sending them clattering down the stairs, "if I had just listened to my intuition, we wouldn't be here!" She closes her eyes, tipping her head back "I would never have gone to your apartment and let you goad me into trying once more and this whole thing would be different." She sighs, "everything with Steve felt right. Like we were meant to click together perfectly. And now I've gone and mucked it up. Again."
He's just watching the street, thinking quietly. She's glad he takes no offense to the fact that she wishes they basically hadn't met at all.
Then she stands, brushing herself off. Whoever Peggy Carter is, she is not someone to stay unmoving and morose for long. "I need to go. I need to think."
He just nods and gets up too. She hadn't meant for him to follow along but he quietly pads along beside her, deep in thought.
They walk back to campus, and then she walks to the dormitory. He pauses outside the main doors and before she says goodbye, he gently grasps her arm and seems worried, "is this you giving up?"
His blue eyes study her face and she shrugs softly, "I don't know. I don't want to… but how much can I do to try to convince him? At what point do I respect his wishes that he doesn't want a relationship with someone who has dated his best friend. Isn't that his decision to make?" James is frowning but she's not done. "It's sad, and frustrating and…" her throat gets a little scratchy, "unfair in my opinion. But it is his choice. He's not breaking any social laws by wanting someone you haven't kissed or dated."
James just looks dejected as he lets her arm go and shoves his hands in his pocket. "How the hell did I get in the way, again. It's not even fair! I didn't do this on purpose!"
"It's neither of our faults, you know." She whispers. "As much as it feels like it is. We've done nothing wrong."
He doesn't agree or disagree, just shrugs and then leaves.
And she walks quietly up to er room and straight to her bed.
—
"Uh, Peggy?"
She blinks awake and sees Natasha leaning over her, "yes?"
"There's some psycho guy for you."
"I prefer highly motivated and intelligent."
Peggy sits up, looking at the man who now stands in the doorway of her dorm room. She frowns, "Tony?"
He nods, gesturing teh the room, "See? She knows me. Can I come in now?
Natasha shrugs, "fine. BUt make a move and I'll punch you."
"Duly noted." The guy says with an eyeroll. Then he walks over and without asking just sits beside her on the bed. 'Hey."
She rubs at her face, still waking up. "Hey." Then she looks at the room and back to him, "what are you doing here?"
"Jarvis," he starts, making her furrow her brow in confusion, "that's my butler. Anyways. I got home and Jarvis told me that Steve had been there. That's fine. Steve and my dad have this weird pseudo father son relationship that definitely does not make me insecure at all—" he grins, "but anyways. Jarvis told me Steve had been there and that two of Steve's friends had been there. But only knew the girl's name. A Natasha."
Peggy flicks her eyes to her roommate who glares at her and puts her hands on her hips.
"Well, of course my curiosity was piqued because Steve's never mentioned a Natasha and last I heard he was dating you. Happy as a little blonde clam and all that. So I decided to access my doorbell camera." Peggy winces. "And yep. It's you and Barnes, who've I've met a grand total of like three times. Anyways. I watch the footage and—" She's growing and rubbing her fists into her eyes sockets as if to rub the image of Steve's calm and resigned face, "I heard your speech at the end."
She looks up at him, "speech?"
"Yeah, about Stvee being the right one."
"Oh…" she can feel Natasha's eyes on her.
"Did you mean it?"
She blinks at him, "mean it?"
"Yeah, did you mean what you said? Because I don't want to start meddling if you're going to end up dumping him 2 months later."
The question keeps her stunned for a moment as she thinks. She thinks about Steve and the way his slim fingers fit between hers. The way his lips are always a touch cold so that way kissing him is always pleasant. She thinks about the way he'd done research on a topic she was studying so he could be a better conversation starter. How she'd never felt more comfortable with a guy than she had with him. How the way his eyes lit up when he saw her made her feel like she'd won the lottery."
"Yes." She says softly, then nods to accentuate her point, "yes, he's the one."
Tony grins, "perfect. How do you feel about grand romantic gestures?"
—
"I don't think I can do this." She breathes out, looking at herself in the mirror.
Natasha grins from behind her but says nothing because Angie, the student director of the costume department, is already shushing her, "Are you kidding? You're one of the most beautiful Summer seasons I've ever seen. Where the hell have you been all these years?"
"Hiding in the law building." Natasha quips.
Peggy eyes the golden beading of the delicate gown she's in, "this is like a waking nightmare."
Angie laughs and then swats her hands away from where they're resting on the dress. "Don't touch the fabric with your oily, sweaty hands."
Peggy would be annoyed or embarrassed usually but she's not. She is a nervous wreck and her hands are indeed sweating.
Tony had informed Peggy of the big "All Art All Night" event. Every year, each section of the art department came together to celebrate the upcoming end of the school year but also to create new art. So the theater department would choose a scene or scenes to perform. The artists had their favorite works on display. There would be performances from the dance department. And the music department would choose students to form a live orchestra for the theater and dance scenes and then a smaller band for live music at the art show. After all of that, it would transition to the live art, where the tradition of Vivaldi's Four Seasons would begin.
The theater department would select four people, usually actors or dancers, to represent the four seasons. The costume department would dress them, and the music department would join to show off their skills by selecting one song from each season and performing it while the actor "personified" that season on stage. While doing so, the art majors would paint, draw, sketch, charcoal, watercolor, pastel, or sculpt as quickly and efficiently as they could to "capture" that season. They had the length of the song plus another 45 minutes until the next season would come on stage. Then those works would be auctioned off at the gala at the end of the year and the proceeds would be split. Half to the student, half to the department.
And somehow Peggy found herself as Summer.
"How can anyone paint in less than an hour?" Natasha asks, "don't oils take forever to dry?"
Angie is nodding, "I don't think many choose to utilize oils. But the point isn't to create a perfect recreation of what the person looked like. It's to take that personification and create a piece of art. It's to capture the feeling of what that person made you think or feel while they were on stage."
Peggy felt herself swallow roughly. When Tony had explained his harebrained scheme, she'd wanted to laugh and tell him it was ridiculous. Because it was. But then Tony had stated that he'd seen Steve drawing her. Seen the glimpse of her face in sketchbooks. And how that meant she was still on his mind. Which meant she potentially still had a chance.
So this would be that chance. She would put herself out there, literally, for everyone to see. But mostly for Steve.
"What if he rejects me again." She whispers out roughly. "What if he gets angry that I crashed his night?"
Natasha looks at her seriously and just shrugs softly, "then that's your answer."
Angie eyes them curiously, not exactly sure of the situation, but she just kneels back down and starts adjusting the golden straps of the gladiator sandals that were wrapping around Peggy's calves.
"You look drop dead gorgeous." Natasha says, poking the spindly tops of her "sun" crown. Peggy's hair is in huge curls, extensions added in to give length and volume, and atop her head is a golden crown with long golden spikes in various lengths to emulate rays of sun. A golden mesh is sewn between each spike. Her silk golden gown hangs off her shoulders and fades into a sandy color that then fades into white and then into light blue and then deeper and darker blues. Like the way the sand of a beach fades into an ocean. Her sleeves have deep greens, reds, purples, and blues beaded onto the golden fabric to represent the vibrancy of summer, and those hang down to the floor and drag behind her. Her eyeshadow is gold with thick black eyeliner. But her lips are a soft pink and there's gold dust coating her neck and collar bones.
"SPRING!" A shout is heard, making all three of them jump, "YOU'RE ON IN 2 MINUTES!"
The blonde woman at the vanity to her left, who has been throwing daggers at her all night, nods and leans forward to the mirror to check for any last minute adjustments. Angie helps another costumer look her over as Peggy tries to keep her hands from shaking.
"That's Dottie." Angie whispers when she returns, shuffling through props. "She was really hoping to get summer this year."
Peggy grimaces, "I took her spot?"
Angie laughs, "are you kidding me?" She shakes her head, "no way. Dottie's cold as ice. She's lucky she's spring and not winter."
"Who's winter?" Natasha asks.
"Whitney Frost." Angie snorts, "fitting. That girl is an ice queen. But her cheekbones are something to write home about." She points around, "see how she's not even here yet? Total diva. Just cause she's last."
"Who was summer supposed to be?"
Angie wrinkles her nose in thought and then snaps, "a girl named Pepper Potts because she had the most gorgeous coppery hair. But she dropped out. So you're a lifesaver." Peggy grimaces. She hopes Tony didn't do anything drastic to make that girl quit.
"Who is autumn?"
Angie grins, "you're looking at her."
"I thought you were costumes!"
"I am. But I'm also an actress. I'm multi-talented."
The girl laughs and then points out two props to Peggy. "You've got time. Drink some water. Eat a snack. Do not get food on this dress or I will murder you. Feel free to sit down as long as you're careful. Do not wander outside the staging area. All seasons are a surprise until they walk on stage. Questions?"
Peggy shakes her head. "No."
"Good. See you on stage, summer." Then she's walking to a far vanity and Peggy is taking a deep breath.
"I'm going to go see if Steve is out there." Natasha says.
"Wait!" She blurts out, looking at her roommate, who is now looking back at her, an eyebrow raised, "why…" she tries to formulate the question correctly. "When you initially wanted to set me up with Steve… Why did you think we would work?"
She can see the question surprises Natasha, but she walks back over and stands behind Peggy, meeting her eyes in the mirror. Then she gestured to that mirror. "So many men only search for beauty." Her tone is calm and soft, "that's what draws most people together anyways initially. An initial physical attraction. But men pride themselves on finding the most attractive woman. Because they believe if they can get a beautiful woman, then they are also beautiful."
Peggy's staring at her, eyes wide as she listens to her roommate speak.
Natasha's face is calm but there's a hint of something there. Like she's speaking from experience. "So many men find outward beauty and then stop searching. They don't care if you're beautiful inside. Or smart, or talented. In fact, sometimes those qualities annoy them. Might even detract from your outward beauty." Her hand lifts up and the soft pad of her pointer finger gently rests on the top spoke of her sun crown, "I see so many women, lowering their standards. Lowering the expectation of the type of love and care they receive because society tells them they are worth only what they look like. And I see men gleefully propagating that belief."
Her eyes get far away. "I was in that class I took with him. Website design. And there was this girl." She grimaces, "I'll be honest. I was part of the problem. She was blonde and beautiful and a total ditz." Natasha sighs, "or so I thought. She wanted to run her own online fashion website. She loved to design clothes and sell them. She wanted to do something with her life and there I was, being a bitch and rolling my eyes everytime she asked a question." Her finger moves to the next spoke, "and of course every idiot guy in the class was trying to show off and help her. Leaning over her and getting in her space. But she needed the help. So she just accepted it. At first."
A clatter makes them both look over at a harried theater student running around with props. Then she continues.
"One day, maybe two weeks into the class, I noticed that the girl had stopped asking questions all together. And I felt it in my gut that it wasn't because she'd finally got the hang of it, or because she understood. It was how those questions were being answered.
"So I sort of waited around. I wasn't a whiz at the class either, but I thought maybe I could help. But he beat me to it." Peggy looks up to see Natasha grinning into the mirror. "I saw this blonde guy approach her after class, as she stared at her screen in defeat. And he stayed a good three feet away from her, asking if she wanted to work on the latest homework assignment together.
"I could see the girl trying to work him out. Was he another skeeze? Was he a small guy trying to prove his manly prowess? But no. Steve sat down on the desk opposite her, and kept his hands on the desk and facial expression non-predatory."
Peggy wonders why Natasha seems familiar with predatorial expressions.
"It took her a little bit." Natasha chuckles, "I sat there pretending to work but just watching, ready to step in if he did turn out to be an asshole. But then I heard him backtrack. He started to go over things they;d been discussing in classs that she'd had answers about and I could tell it was for her benefit. Not to point out what she didn't know, but allowing her the chance to be taught without fear of someone looking down her shirt."
Peggy's hands are gripping the little arm rests on the chair.
"And after that, she would ask him questions before class. After class.a nd his behavior was the same everytime." Her smile was soft. "He never got boastful. Never tried to interact with her during class to show off to the other guys. Never lorded his knowledge over her. Just… an actual helpful human being."
She's not exactly sure what Natasha is getting at other than Steve is kind, but she's not finished.
"Then there was this other girl." Natasha's finger moves to a further spoke, brushing against the mesh first, "by all accounts—" she grimaces, "—not conventionally or socially attractive. She had some skin condition and was obviously used and conditioned to be the pariah of any social group." Natasha sighs, "and once again… I did nothing. Just kept my head down and did my assignment. What the hell do I care about my classmates' woes?" She huffs at herself in a humored annoyance and keeps talking,
"But this girl was smart. Knew what she was doing for the most part and was able to keep up. Except one day. During individual work time, she'd raised her hand, needing help. And the teacher just…" she frowned, "I don't know if he actually didn't see it. Or didn't want to be close to her. I think I know, but I don't actually know. But he just kept ignoring her. And I wasn't paying attention to Steve, I was watching this girl slowly lower her hand because she realized he wasn't going to come help her." Natasha rubs at her forehead and sighs, "I was like royally pissed. Like— So annoyed. But again." Her eyes meet Peggy's, "he beat me to it.
"I saw another hand raise out of the corner of my eye and noticed it was Steve. At first I thought he genuinely had a question until the teacher started to walk over to him and he said 'actually, Alisha had her hand up. Did you see it?' And the stark sharp way Steve had said it made me think he'd thought what I had. That he'd ignored her, hoping it would go away. And he wanted the whole class to know that that was unacceptable. The teacher sputtered and was all 'oh no I didn't see.' And then he went over and helped her." Natasha runs a hand through her own hair and then fluffs Peggy's over her shoulder, "I thought it was actually not a good move. Might have embarrassed the girl, but at the end of class, I waited, curious, and he walked over to her. And he sat down right beside her, not too close, but close enough to show her he had no problem with her or her skin or how she looked and he frowned at her and said, 'don't ever lower your hand when you have a question.'" Peggy blinked in surprise and Natasha nodded, "I was shocked, and that wasn't all, then he said, 'and if they don't see you, make sure they hear you. Everyone in this class is paying to be here. You deserve to learn what you need to learn. Okay?'" Peggy feels her throat tighten, "and the girl seemed shocked. Maybe Steve was too blunt, or too close to home, and maybe she was embarrassed but I was floored. I was jaw-on-the-floor." She laughs, "here was this guy who could have bragged about helping the "hottie" in class. Or who could have just stayed quiet and kept their head down like me. But no. He stood up for both of them. And I thought to myself… That's a guy who deserves to find a beauty inside and out." Natasha grins at her, "and the next week we had presentations and he had made a website for people of low incomes to be able to search through job openings based on wages, distance from their homes, transportation availability, and childcare options." Her fingers glide over the beading on her sleeve, "but what really sealed the deal that I thought you might like him, was he stated, 'everyone should have the chance to live and work comfortably. To have justice given from a system that has ignored them for so long." Her eyebrow raises, "a sentiment I heard you share our freshman year."
Her eyes close briefly and she shakes her head, "I really really hope he will come to his senses and give us another chance."
Natasha grins, "he'd be a fool not too."
—-
She hears the announcer's 5 minute warning for the artists to finish up their spring artworks. The thrill of pure fear that runs through her makes goose bumps appear on her arms.
"You ready?" Angie asks, coming over. A dress of gold, deep reds, deep greens, and browns swishing around her.
"Don't forget these—" she shoves the two props into Peggy's arms. An hourglass that's ⅔ full— spring's was full up top and empty on the bottom. Fall's was ⅓ full on the top and ⅔ full on the bottom and winter's was full on the bottom and empty up top) and a then an umbrella that when opened would have strings of blue gems hanging at different lengths around the edge to look like it was raining underneath.
"Your official title is Summer Rain." Angie had explained, "so make sure you open that umbrella in the first minute at least."
"SUMMER! YOU'RE ON IN 2!"
Angie grins at her and then helps her get her dress situated so she can walk. "You're going to knock everyone's socks off, English."
She nods, but doesn't say anything. Because she doesn't want to knock everyone's socks off. Just one.
—-
She is given the silent cue to go on stage and she starts walking. Keeping her stride confident so she won't catch her shoes on her dress.
She can see the little 'X' on the ground and she stops on top of it. The curtains are closed, but she can see the stage hand ready to open them. As the music begins, they slowly start to peel open and the lights begin to rise.
She does her best not to squint at the brightness, but she can clearly hear the gasps of approval and rush of movement to begin creating art.
Her eyes rove the crowd around the stage, trying to see him, but she can't. About a minute into the song, she hears a snap that causes her to look back and Angie is elevating wildly, pointing at something— oh yeah.
She slowly lifts up the umbrella and pushes the mechanism up.
The gasp of the audience is loud as the gems drop down, sparkling and twinkling in the lights and refracting off her.
And that's when she spots him.
Wide blue eyes and disbelief etched across his face. She locks eyes with him and doesn't look away until he catches her staring. Then his eyes widen even more. And his hand is holding— it's hard to see, but what looks like a crayon to her— and she doesn't look away.
Her song is playing, the orchestra unaware of her gaze, but she can see the other artists are confused. There's a whispering, a mumbling. She can see their heads turning to find what she's staring so vividly at. Which is why she doesn't look away for a second.
Him. She's looking at Him. She wants everyone in this damn room to know that he is the only one worthy of her attention. That he is her art to look at, to study. That he is not only worthy but more than worthy of her attentions.
All of that runs through her mind and she imbues it into her aura and her expression.
Most living arts don't look at the audience or the artists, they're supposed to be "art", not really interacting with what's off stage, but she breaks that "rule".
His hand is still frozen and suddenly the briefest doubt that she will ruin his artist's flow.
—one day, you'll have to let me sculpt you. Or draw you—
He'd said that after the horrid movie they'd gone and mocked together.
So she dips her head a bit, tilting it to get his alert attention and she very slowly mouths "draw me". Enunciating every syllable so he won't miss the message.
That seems to snap him to. And suddenly his head is bowed over his easel.
And a pleased smile crosses her face as she watches him.
—-
The rest of her time on stage is a blur as is the other two hours of Fall and Winter. Once she's out of her costume and back dressed like a normal human, she waits rather impatiently at the back.
When the head of the art department finishes with a small speech and the dates of the silent auction gala, there's polite applause and then clean up begins.
And she waits through all of it.
And just like that fateful day she first apologized, e's the second to last to leave. The sight of him makes her heart leap. He looks tired, circles starting to appear under his eyes, but she can understand that, it's almost 3am. There's smudges of color on his clothes and skin and he looks positively adorable.
And he catches sight of her right outside the door.
The head of the art department exits after him and locks the door to the large auditorium. Then she glances between Steve and herself and there's a very amused smile on the woman's face. "You we're a lovely, Summer." The woman says to her, "thanks for participating. Steve? See you in class on Tuesday?"
Steve nods and she says a quiet thank you as the lady walks away.
"You really were gorgeous up there." Steve practically whispers. "Stole the show."
"I had to do something to get your attention."
He huffs, "you sure got it. And everyone else's."
She frowns. "I don't want everyone else's. In fact, I don't want anyone else's. That's what I've been trying to make you understand. I only ever want your attention."
"Peggy—"
"No—" she shakes her head, and the realization she'd left the extensions in makes her roll her eyes, "listen, I don't believe that you—" she pauses, wanting to do phrase it right, "I know you've been hurt. And that has made you cautious. And there's nothing wrong with that. But I'm not someone you have to be worried about. Once I decide what I want, I go for it. And if for some reason you refuse to believe me now or still want time, I'll patiently wait until the next insane thing I can do to prove it to you. And the next, and the next, until you accept that I do want to be with you and only you or—" she forces the next words out, "or if you really decide you're done with my insane plots... Then I would stop."
He looks at her for a long minute before the corner of his mouth tilts up slightly in a wry smile, "and what would be the next plot?"
"Perhaps live modeling in your sculpture class—" she blurts out. An idea Tony had mentioned in jest.
Steve turns red and then waves his hands, "okay, alright." He lets out a tired laugh and his shoulders drop, "I'll admit…" he looks back up at her and shrugs, "I've really missed hanging out with you."
She steps forward, crowding his space and making him swallow heavily, "I was so hoping you would say that." She leans down to kiss him. "Because the feelings are mutual."
—-