They would actually, Natasha checked for her, allow a British citizen to be first lady as long as she was also an American citizen, which Peggy submitted her application for almost immediately. However, that was jumping the shark quite ferociously and she didn't mention a word of it to Steve who was under a new level of stress.
The main debate nights were just days away and to no one's surprise, Rumlow had been less than forthcoming.
Which meant that there was still a threat hanging over Steve's head. But now as primary candidate, he had triple the security and the eye rolls to prove it.
He had underwent a secret surgery, convalesced for three weeks and not a whiff of it was in the news much to his relief.
Steve drank the bitter concoction everyday like clockwork, even though he insisted the taste was getting worse. And she was by his side almost always.
And he did not roll his eyes at that. He was more likely to smile like a damn fool at her, to which she would return her own eye roll at him before kissing his cheek and lips in quick succession.
He never complained.
"Alright!" Natasha snaps, "this is the big night, I want eyes and ears everywhere. Attendance is being recorded and documents about identities are already set up. No one in without the proper identification. Any shifty eyes get sent straight to me. Barton you're up in the nest, Morita, you're comms, Dugan you're front, Jones and Denier, sides, any questions?"
There were none and Peggy holsters her own pistol and arrangement of weapons. "You excited?" She asks, looking over at Steve who was staring at flashcards of points he was hoping to get the chance to make.
"I think so." He looks up at her, "I don't think I know how to win. I don't know how to be president. It's not like it's something you train for. I just want change. Good change. I wish I could do that without being the president."
She gingerly fixes a flyaway hair of his and than rests her hand against his cheek, "any man longing for te power of the presidential position should not have it."
He grimaces softly, a half smile to it, "thanks. I think."
"Remember that there's nothing up there but you and the truth. Alright?"
He nods, kissing her quickly and then straightening his already straight tie. "Right."
- Your policies on immigration are startlingly weak. Mr. Rogers-
The opponent is saying as Peggy watches the screens in the back of the stage.
-how can America have a sense of safety if you're willing to let anyone in?
She can tell that Steve withholds an eyeroll, and starts his rebuttal, discussing how it's not a lax border but a more streamlined bureaucratic process. Receiving citizenship or a green card could take years, and people need help now. More funding towards programs that matter and less in politicians and lobbyists pockets.
The debate continues and Steve does exceedingly well. Keeps calm, smiles enough to be sincere but not too much to be called a "charmer". He keeps to his points and states them clearly. He doesn't let himself get waylaid with the opponents well-laid traps. The whirlpools of unceasing arguments that would infuriate everyone in the audience and Steve to the point of annoyance.
But no, Steve side steps those and gently chastises his opponent for trying to avoid the topics that are truly important, leaving the older man flustered and snippish.
Peggy smiles as Steve smiles at the camera and gives his short signature wave and steps off the stage.
She hears the 'well dones' and the 'good jobs' and all the other accolades as he makes his way towards her.
But when he pushes past the last curtain and catches her eye, she sees him raise an eyebrow in question. Only her opinion truly mattering to him at the moment.
"A jolly good show, ol' sport." she quips, "bloody brilliant and huzzah."
He laughs and scoops her up, spinning her tightly in a circle, making everyone around them laugh and cheer.
There were a few more attempts.
Each one sizzling fear through her spine. A shooter at a rally, a knife at a community event. A moment where someone attempting to be innocuous offered Steve food and he took it without thinking only to have the food snatched from him by Peggy or Natasha and glares exchanged.
But each time they were able to apprehend, get one step closer, eliminate someone else who was a threat. And Steve seemed perfectly unbothered.
It drove her mad, and made her grin recklessly all at once. He was quite fearless in the most idiotically adorable way possible.
They were at one of the last events before the election, located in his home borough of Brooklyn and she was keeping a watchful eye on the crowds as they gathered around Steve and tried to talk to him, shake his hand, and in general just be in his vicinity.
There's a sense of family. It's not just that people seem to know him, but they seem to know him. And he knows at least half of their names, or knows at least one person in a group.
"Has he been here before?" Natasha asks, then shakes her head, "I mean obviously he grew up here but…" she looks at the large crowd, "he can't possibly have gone to school with all of these people. How does he know them all so well? And they know him as well."
Peggy shakes her head, "I have no idea. I know he's friendly, but this seems a bit more than that."
"A concern?"
She stares at the genuinely 'delighted to see him' faces and the earnest smile he's giving back as he asks about kids she has no idea how he knows about.
"I don't think so."
Natasha shrugs, and rests her hand on her side where her holster is hidden. Just in case.
It's nearing the end of the event, she's drifted back closer to him as he's talking with a young couple. She's listening to a walkie from Morita, confirming location of car pick up when she hears a,
"Steven!"
She turns, at the use of his formal name. An older gentleman, golden brown skin and the brightest smile approaches Steve with his arms wide.
"Omar!" Steve says with a huge grin, "you're here! How are you here!?"
"Mi nieta brought me here, in her new car! One she paid for by herself."
The man raises his eyebrows and Steve grasps him in a hug, "that's wonderful!"
"It would not have been possible if not for y-"
"Oh," Steve says in a rushed voice, glancing around (she pretends to be not listening) and waving his hands, voice getting quieter, "let's not talk about that here. How is Andrea? And the rest of your kids?"
The older gentleman starts talking with Steve and she notices with much chagrin that he starts stepping a bit further away, leading the man to the snack table.
So, instead of following, she goes to the registration table they have. "Rose?"
The woman looks up, "hey Carter, how can I help you?"
Peggy leans over her and looks at her list. "I'm looking for a particular name…"
She waits over a week, until Steve is busy getting ready for an in-home interview with some news anchor or other. Natasha, Barton, and the rest of the crew are gathered. Even Barnes who will be pulled into the interview since he's known Steve since childhood.
"Are you sure you don't mind me missing it?" She asks, putting on a concerned front, "I feel terrible, but it is the perfect time for me to run to the Consulate."
Steve places a kiss on her forehead then lips and shakes his head, "it's not a problem at all. You've seen all my other interviews. Nothing is going to be happening here you don't already know. I've been hogging all your time, so go, be free from the madness."
They share a laugh and she bids him goodbye and hurries out the door. And in the opposite direction of the Consulate.
It's a small apartment in a section of town she wouldn't describe as up and coming. But the place is clean and has a coziness to it that can't be ignored. The people who live here care about their home, their building.
A young woman answers her knock, looking at her in confusion. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'm here looking for an Omar Diaz?"
The girl nods, "he's here, what's this about?"
"He knows my friend Steve, just had a couple of questions."
"Steve?" the girl's face changes, "Mr. Rogers? Oh, yeah, hold on. Abuelo! Ven aqui!"
The old man appears at the door shortly and greets her with a smile, "yes?"
"Hello, my name is Peggy Carter and I was wondering if you would bear with me and answer a few questions?"
His head tilts, still kind but wondering, "about what?"
"About Steve Rogers?"
The man grins, "oh yes, of course." he waves her into a cozy and colorful home.
She spots a little dominican flag magnet on the fridge and she smiles, "I've been to Puerto Plata. It was beautiful."
He grins, "I'm from Santo Domingo, but I miss many places on the island. You have been often?"
She thinks of the bloody fight she'd had with an errant Puerto Rican mobster who had fled there. "No." She laughs softly, "only once or twice, but the mangu and mofongo I had while there was delicious."
He lights up, "that is because our food feeds the soul."
She nods, "I agree wholeheartedly."
He gestures to a chair at their dining table. "What can I help you with? Is this for his campaign?"
She thinks about lying but then decides against it, "actually, I was wondering how long you'd know Steve?"
"Since he was fourteen."
"How did you know him?"
"Through his mother. She would do health classes at the community center near here."
Suddenly the amount of people who knew him was starting to make sense. "Oh, I see. What sort of health classes?"
"She taught basic first aid, and would do CPR certifications for those who needed it. She taught young mothers and young women. Child healthcare, hygiene and all types of things."
"She sounds wonderful."
The man nods sagely, "she was. Gave much of her time. When she died I was worried we would not see him again, thankfully we did."
Her interests piqued, "oh?"
He nods, looking out to the window, "desconsolado." he says quietly, "but he didn't stop coming. And he could not teach health but he always found something else."
"Something else?" she asks quietly, "he would teach?"
The man nodded, "oh yes, once a week he would hold an art class, and then later that same week, every week, he would teach a skill."
"A skill…" She blinks, trying to connect the pieces, "like?"
"He knew much about much." the man grins, "he would teach how to work basic electricity, plumbing, wood working, upholstery, car mechanics, painting. Basic welding and construction skills. He taught skills that helped us find work. Many of the people in that center were not here legally. And it was difficult to find safe and consistent ways to provide. He saved many of us from having to turn to worse means."
The tools. All the stolen and promptly returned tools. She feels like crying. Her hands aren't shaking but she feels like they just might start. "How long?" she clears her throat, "how long did he do that?"
The man tilts his head back thinking, "Mrs. Rogers taught when he was 14 until he was 17… then he took over until his early twenties." He nods as if confirming, "Angelani!"
The young girl, his granddaughter Peggy assumes, comes back into the room, "yes?"
"How long was Steven teaching at the center?"
She thinks back, "I was 13-18? So I believe about 5 years?"
The man smiles "she learned how to paint because of him. Got into art school, now has a job at a museum. Makes good money."
The girl smiles, "it's a gallery, not a museum, but yes, it's true."
"That's …" she can feel her voice about to crack from emotion so she pauses and swallows, "that's lovely. Just what I was wanting to know." She stands, "I've taken enough of your time, I appreciate you speaking with me."
The man nods, standing and giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "if you are ever hungry, you come back here. Bring Steven."
She nods, "I will indeed."
Her feet fly down the steps and over the pavement as she runs back to her car.
The interview isn't even down when she gets back. But, Howard is there, and she's not sure why. But she pulls him aside and down the hall, out of earshot. "All your years of wondering, and I figured it out rather easily."
He looks confused, "what?"
"Your tools."
Howard gasps, actually gasps, "what! You found out! How?"
"An old friend came to see him in Brooklyn, I followed the bread crumb trail."
Howard leans in conspiratorially, "what was the reason? Why did he take them?"
Howard's as flabbergasted as she was when she finishes telling him.
"If I didn't know he would be so pissed off," Howard starts, "I would take this story to the press right now. Holy freaking heck the world needs to hear about this."
"He's disgustingly pure." Peggy agrees, "It makes me veritably sick."
They both chuckle and then grow quiet. She looks over, "so you never met his mother either?"
He shakes his head, "no. He was 22 when I met him. She'd been gone awhile."
"How did he go from working in Brooklyn to being deployed."
Howard shrugs like it's obvious. "Steve was stealing and returning. I was fascinated. He wouldn't say why. I was even more riveted. Something about the guy just stuck under my hat. So I started finding out about him as best I could but there honestly wasn't much. I found out about his mom's death and the rat hole apartment he was living in, that was for some reason beautifully furnished. Then I found him having an asthma attack so bad that I thought he was going to keel over. Hospital visit turned into lecture once I discovered about his heart. Made it my life's goal to fix that. Which caused Steve to think he was indebted to me in a certain way. Decided I wanted his strategic mind on my team. The rest is history."
Peggy shakes her head and laughs softly, "it's quite the story. Quite the man."
"Quite the president." Howard comments, his numbers are phenomenal. He's actually going to do it."
Peggy grins, "he is, isn't he?"
He wins by, maybe not a landslide, but a decent enough victory that the group, waiting eagerly in front of the screen for the results goes absolutely mad.
Steve stares at the numbers in shock, slack jawed and dumbstruck and all those corny ways of expression complete disbelief.
"You won, you maniac!" Bucky shouts, Shaking him vigorously, "you WON!"
He laughs, hugging Bucky first and then turning to grab Peggy who is all smiles.
"You won." She cheers, "you won, I knew you would!"
Without the slightest hesitation, he kisses her. Publicly, lavishly, and the crowd goes wild again and somehow he can't decide which part of tonight he's more happy about.