The continued partnership becomes habit. Enough to where she feels more a part of the team at the Smithsonian than her own F.B.I. unit. But she doesn't mind. Barnes and she get along well, Tony is a strange enigma but she appreciates his slicing humor, neurotic nature, and undying loyalty to getting the job done correctly.
And Steve…
She had come to value not only his assistance and willingness to drop everything and help her solve a time restrictive case, but also his poignant ability to stay calm, collected, and objective at all times.
He'd now been shot at, punched, and tackled a few times. Each making him more brazen and head strong when facing the next villain of the case. It made Barnes nervous, and her doubly so. But it was a necessary evil. How she'd ever solved cases without him was becoming more of a mystery.
Dooley said nothing about their partnership since it was solving many current and even cold cases.
Thompson had a begrudging respect for the squints now and she knew he had called and asked questions on a case or two of his own.
Steve had even been willing to work a case with him when Peggy had been out of town. Finding that out had been a shock to her system and she'd walked all the way to his office.
He'd frowned at seeing her and grimaced, "don't start."
"You hypocritical bastard," Peggy teased. "I never want to hear you complain about squints again."
Jack had thrown a file at her and she'd snagged it out of the air. "He solved the Geoff Browning case."
Her eyes went wide, "he what?"
"Nailed the nanny to the wall with the evidence. We were right about the wife being innocent but wrong about manner of death which is why we couldn't get a hold. I gave him all three sets of remains and he was calling me in 12 hours. Judge ordered a warrant. Bam. Solved."
She'd read the files briefly and then shook her head, "it really is unbelievable."
"We need to be careful," Thompson had said, "I heard the head of C.C. sniffing around since we've been not only solving our murders but also catching the strays of our perp's past cases. So they want to know how we're scooping them."
"Cold Case?" Peggy asked with a raised eyebrow, "sheez, they're relentless. They can't get his name."
"That's what I told Dooley. We're all zipped-" he had motioned across his mouth, "but they are assigned those cases for a reason. They have the patience of a saint until they get their answer."
Peggy had smirked, "you're sounding a bit protective of our Smithsonian team."
Thompson rolled his eyes, "and why wouldn't I be? They make my job a hell of a lot easier."
She scoffed, "and they save lives!"
Thompson had grinned annoyingly, "oh yeah, that too."
She had thrown the file back in his face and walked out, rolling her eyes as she did so.
xvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvx
"Dr. Rogers?"
Peggy watches Steve's head pop up, the magnifying glasses on his nose making his eyes comically large.
"Yes, Miss Potts?"
"The images are ready. Your reports are filed and I was told the new remains are in the light room. Is there anything else?"
"Has the publisher—"
"It's in the final stages of being printed. Ships three days after. Released within two months."
Steve smiles, "thanks."
"Of course," the thin willowy redhead says with a smile. "I'll see you Monday."
Steve nods and goes back to his inspection.
Peggy sets down her report and tilts her head, "how's the new assistant working out?"
Steve doesn't lose focus, his careful hands poking and prodding some ligament as he works, "she's great. At first I didn't think I needed someone but it's actually nice to not have to worry about the little time consuming details."
"I'm glad," she says honestly. Her and Thompson, and a few others on his security detail, had made bets whether the secretary would last. Everyone thought Steve would run the kind girl off with his stoic, know-it-all, brusque, black and white attitude, but Peggy knew Steve now. It wasn't a know-it-all attitude that was pushy and belittling. It was simply his way of interacting with the world. He really did know it all. Mostly. Not to mention this particular assistant, hand picked by Phillips, was finely attuned to understand Steve's intensity. She was clear, concise, and precise. She did not dilly dally and there was definitely no lollygagging (Tony's words, not hers).
"I'm almost done. Then I'll send over the findings."
"I'm on detail for another half hour. Don't rush on my account."
"It's been over three months. They've given up."
"So you say. So no one else says."
He's still focusing but he frowns, "I can't be under house arrest forever."
"You're not under house arrest."
"Am I allowed to leave my house without someone knowing?"
She rolls her eyes, "no."
"So—"
"You don't have an anklet. You're allowed to leave your house."
"Details," he huffs. She grins as he places the last bone shard into a separate container, "Tony!"
The young man walks over, examines the remains and nods, "you're right. The burns came post mortem."
"I know. Which means she was dead before the fire started. So this is murder."
He turns to her and she raises her hands, "I got it. Murder." She pulls out her cellphone, "I'll call Dooley."
"And ask him to leave me alone please."
"It's not on our orders you're under protection detail."
Steve glares at the direction of Phillips' office but says nothing.
Sam shows up soon to take over detail and she heads on out.
xvxvxvxvxvvxvxvxvxvxvx
A month later, she opens her mailslot to see the key for the package box. She grabs the other mail and then walks to the larger box, inserting the key and turning it. She finds a box with her name on it and takes it up to her room.
She doesn't open it right away, too suspicious of packages ever since the Christmas debacle. But she gets curious when she sees who it's from.
A designer. The designer.
With deft skill she slices open the tape and finds another more delicate box inside.
Slowly she lifts the lid and the soft tissue paper and gapes at the contents.
The dress. Her dress. The one that had been ruined in the explosion just four months ago. The dress she'd tried to get replaced but couldn't because the designer no longer made or carried it.
The silky red material flows down as she lifts it up.
After carefully hanging it up. She searches the box for a card or label or something that will explain why it had been sent to her.
Today.
On her birthday.
But there's nothing. Only the garment care instructions card and nothing else.
Words ring in her head. A memory of that night.
-Sorry your dress was ruined. Thank you for saving my life-
She texts Sam, "where's Steve?"
"We're on our way to the Smithsonian."
"I thought you weren't mobile."
"No one to take him there and he's insisting. Someone is staying back to watch the house."
She likes his message and grabs her keys.
~ ~ ~. ~ ~ ~ ~
He is in the illumination room and she only receives a raised eyebrow from Sam as she enters.
He doesn't look up, which is a habit that irritates her. Doesn't he care? What if she was some crazed mob member? His belief that he can handle himself is half frustrating and half endearing. But mostly infuriating.
"How?" She asks.
Her voice does make him look up, he tilts his head, glasses enlarging his blue eyes, "how what? Is there a case file you've given me I've forgotten?"
"No," she corrects, "the dress. How did you manage it?"
Steve looks back down, "it's a dress. You buy them, you know."
Peggy steps forward and clicks off the center desk underneath light, which she knows will piss him off. She's seen Barnes do it before. "You can't just buy that dress."
Steve's jaw grates and his eyes flick off to her. "I'm confused," he states, "are you upset?"
That makes her pause and she reevaluates how she wants to approach this. She clicks the light back on and takes a deep breath, "no. I'm not upset," she clarifies.
"Your tone says you're upset."
Steve's ability to perceive body language and tone but not apply context has been amusing before. But not right now.
"I'm confused," she explains, "how did you get the dress?"
"Yours got ruined saving my life, I purchased another to replace it."
He says it like it's a ledger he needs to wipe clean and not an endearing act.
She tries to keep the frustration out of her tone. She can sense Sam peering into the room.
"It's impossible," she stated.
"Clearly not, if you received it."
He's not trying to piss her off with his no nonsense responses. She knows this. But somehow she finds his unaffected manner as he bends over his work, more aggravating than usual.
"No, I know it's not possible, because I already tried," she says tightly. "I'd already contacted the designer, and she'd turned me down. I'd even offered to pay her more than what the original dress was worth. Hell, I even tracked down other customers who'd bought the limited edition dress and offered to buy theirs even if it was the wrong size. No one would budge. So I want to know how you managed."
And for the first time, in their over two years of knowing each other, she watches Steve's expression shift to something she's never seen. Uncertainty. Hesitancy.
He doesn't know what to say.
He's still staring at his work but his hands aren't moving and his body language is stiff.
She almost wants to let him off the hook. But he'd done something incredibly kind and impossible. And she was too curious to let it go.
"I asked nicely," he finally said, straightening and switching the glasses off his face. His eyes returning to their normal size behind normal lenses. "She was amenable."
Peggy gapes, "no she wasn't! And I asked nicely too!"
"I'm not sure what you want me to say," Steve replies, gathering up papers into a file and slipping it into a briefcase.
"How about the truth?" Peggy asks.
"If I'd known it would come with an interrogation I wouldn't have bought it," Steve responds with a frown. "Feel free to return it."
Then he walks past her and she swivels slowly, eyes wide and mouth parted in shock to meet Sam's matching stunned expression.
But the man has to follow after Steve and so she's left alone and stunned, surrounded by thousands of skeletons in little glowing boxes.
~ ~~~~~~ ~ ~. ~~
She tries to ask Pepper, who holds up a hand, "let me stop you there. I think you're one of the coolest, most bad-ass women I know. I would totally like to give you the answer you're searching for. But you're not my boss. He is. And breaking the employment confidentiality of Dr. Rogers? That's the quickest way to get fired and never work in this field again."
"But it's not even business-" Peggy tries.
"But he's the literal only man in this field. there's no one even second to him in any neighboring fields. His word is gospel. If he doesn't trust you, then no one will trust you." The woman gives her an apologetic grimace and then a quick hand squeeze. "Sorry."
And she's left stunned and without answers again.
So she drops it.
After a few days of awkwardness, they resume as normal.
~~~v~v~v~v~~~~~
"Another behind bars," Thompson says with a clap on Steve's shoulder, "good job, Stevie boy."
Steve looks at the man in dry annoyance, "yeah. Good job, Jackass."
Thompson pauses in shock. And Steve, who she knows doesn't even second guess what he's about to say, "oh. Are we not exchanging shitty nicknames?" Then he steps past both Peggy and Jack and walks to the double doors, pressing out of them and heading towards the parking garage, Sam in tow.
"You so deserved that," Peggy says.
Thompson just rolls his eyes and then follows her back to the main office.
~V~V~VV~V~V~V~
"Dr. Rogers, I have the it-"
"Miss. Potts," Steve cuts her off. "We can talk about this later."
Pepper looks up at the clock, a folder in her hands and then seems to catch his tone, which Peggy does as well. Peggy watches in curiosity as the woman sees Peggy and then frowns. "My apologies I tho-" the red head nods curtly, cutting herself off, "I'll be back."
She leaves and Peggy swivels her head to Steve, "what was that about?"
Steve doesn't respond, and she knows his body language enough to know he's tuning her out on purpose.
She steps over and waves a hand under his nose, breaking his focus, "explain."
Steve straightens, "explain what?"
"Whatever it is you didn't want her saying in front of me."
Steve's face shifted into annoyance, "what, you're my security detail and my own personal diary? She's my assistant. I'm her employer. What we discuss is our business and not yours."
Peggy won't lie and say the barb doesn't sting. It brings up the dress conundrum again. But she knows Steve by now. He's an open book about anything work related. Which means that this is something personal.
She backs off, but her senses are heightened. Something is going on and Steve wants her out of it. She just doesn't take being sidelined very well.
~V~V~VV~V~VV~~
"What shifts am I on?" She asks, holding out her hand for the schedule.
"You're cleared. Three week break."
She looks at him in surprise, "what?"
Dooley isn't paying much attention, "didn't Phillips tell you? He won't need us trailing for three weeks. So maybe get to work on some of those peripheral cases."
"Why doesn't Dr. Rogers need security for three weeks?"
"He has his own security traveling with him."
"He's traveling?"
That gets Dooley's attention and the man studies her, "your little scientist didn't tell you?"
She huffs, "tell me what?"
"Some tour. So enjoy the peace. Get out of my office." The man waves her off and she leaves, feeling annoyed.
She lasts three days before she makes up some reason to go to the Smithsonian.
~V~V~VV~V~
Tony and Barnes both are at ease, working in their sections of the elevated lab.
"Sorry to intrude, gentleman," she says easily, "just hoping to drop these results off and ask Dr. Rogers about the remains he identified? We're thinking we may need another paternity test."
Barnes turns to her, "we can take the results. But Steve's not going to be in the lab til he's back from his book tour. Is it urgent?"
Book tour.
"Not urgent," she says with a smile. "I'll get a hold of him when he gets back."
"He-" Tony looks at her with an eyebrow raise, "didn't tell you he was going to be gone?"
She keeps her amused expression on her face but the question does prick at her heart. "He's made it quite clear we're business professionals and that I'm to stay out of his personal life." She clocks their matching stunned expressions and turns around, "see you gentlemen later."
She hears a quiet, "he told her what?" From Tony as she exits the glass doors.
~V~VV~V~VV~V~V~V
It takes three minutes to search up his tour dates on google and she's impressed that he's quite booked. A city a day for three weeks. And they're all bloody sold out.
So she just gets back to work.
Until two weeks in when she gets the notice that she won't be needed for an additional three weeks. She doesn't respond except with a nod, but immediately heads back to her desk and finds the same website.
Due to popular demand, more dates have been added!
She's about to grumble about it until she sees a date added for Philadelphia.
Her mouse is hovering over the button, trying to decide if she's insane, when one of the dates flips red and a little note pops under it saying Sold Out
Then another.
She clicks and buys a ticket before it's too late.
~V~V~VV~V~VV~
"You requesting two days off?" Dooley asks, staring at the slip with confusion.
Peggy taps on it, "remember that case where the main suspect moved and couldn't be located? I have a source telling me he may have been spotted in a suburb in Pennsylvania. Thought I'd maybe mill about for a few days and see?" This was true except she's pretty sure the tip is incorrect, but hey, why not be extra sure?
Dooley laughs, "so why are you using personal days? Just put it through as a business trip." He tosses the slip in the trash.
"Alright," she says with a smile.
~V~V~VV~V~V~VV~V~VV~
She doesn't exactly disguise herself. But when she sees Sam, Clint, and a few other security details who would recognize her, she does dip her head and pass by them without making eye contact.
She sits in the middle of a row, middleish back, and makes sure her lightly tinted eyeglasses are in place. With his sharp and observant eyesight, she needs to be careful not to be seen.
Why she is hiding isn't really clear to her, or perhaps she pretends that it isn't for her own mental sanity. What would be the big deal of her attending one of his events?
Perhaps the fact that everyone besides her and Dr. Rogers will read into it. But she is just here to satisfy her curiosity and show her support. Secretly.
She sees Pepper's hair flash on the side of the stage and another woman she doesn't recognize comes to the podium and smiles at the crowd, "Good afternoon, everyone!" The crowd gives light applause and cheers and the woman continues, "I'm Diane, and I'm so excited to introduce you to someone who needs no introduction. Dr. Rogers!"
She watches Steve walk out, and he lifts a hand to the crowd without a smile or anything, but he seems at ease so she's at least glad for that. The woman sits in one of the chairs and Steve walks to the other.
"So," the woman smiles at Dr. Rogers, "here we are, the sequel is at the top of the charts. How are you feeling?"
Steve nods, "I'm glad, obviously. You put a lot of work into something and you want it to be successful. So I'm happy that it is."
"Successful," the woman clearly appointed to direct this event is saying, "It's been on the bestseller list since it's presale and the numbers keep growing, isn't that fabulous?" She looks at the crowd who cheers and Peggy does as well to blend in.
Steve shifts in his chair and as the crowd quiets down he lifts the microphone and thanks them.
"I'm glad it resonated with audiences."
"So," Diane continues, "tell us how you started your writing process and what elements went into the creation of this book."
Steve turns to the audience, "well, as you might know I work in this field-" the crowd laughs softly and she watches as he seems surprised, but he continues, "so a lot of the elements are pulled from my real life experiences. Sometimes doing the work I do, means seeing human life and subsequent death from a different perspective. The archaeology of the book is one of my favorite parts to write."
"Do you miss being out in the field?" Diane asks.
"I do," he says easily, "discovering history is one of my favorite aspects of the job."
"So, obviously we love having you write books for us-" a cheer from the audience, "-but why not spend time out in the field?"
She wonders the same thing as Steve lifts the microphone to speak. "I was considering doing that," he starts. "About a year or so ago I thought I might want to maybe split my time at the Smithsonian with traveling and working some dig sites, but…" he looks thoughtful, " a new aspect of my job popped up. And it put my priorities into perspective. Which I think you can also see in the journey my story takes."
"You're speaking of the ending?"
Steve nods, "right. I wanted to show the juxtaposition of how we sometimes get so wrapped up in our small bubbles we don't realize what other things may need our focus."
"I definitely didn't see the twist coming," Diane says with a grin, turning towards the audience, "did you?"
Again the cheers and applause.
Peggy decides whens he gets home she has to buy the two books and read them because she's very lost.
THey talk about more specifics of the books for a while, including his writing process which she wonders about the validity of since she's never seen him work on a computer or any sort of writing device ever. But she assumes he must at some point.
"Alright!" Diane says with a smile, "now for Q ! You've submitted yoru names and we will draw them. If your name is called please come up to the microphone."
Peggy sees Pepper along with a stage hand bring out a microphone and stand.
"Georgia Powell!"
A blonde girl, mid 20's, cheers and stands up, going to the microphone, "Hi, I'm Georgia, huge fan even since before the novel when you were just publishing your short stories and findings in the field."
Steve gives a genuine smile and Peggy tries to remember if he's ever smiled like that before. She can't recall.
"And I am just curious about the third book, will it be a trilogy? Or are you considering expanding the series?"
"Oohs," and soft sounds of agreement make it clear it's a good question.
"I do think it will be the final in the series," Steve says to soft murmurs, "but I let the writing guide me. However, I plan for it to wrap up in three."
"But of course your publisher would be thrilled for number four and five?" Diane cuts in.
"They would," Steve responds. "But then I'd be required by contract to keep doing book tours, and that takes up a good chunk of time I don't have to spare."
The audience doesn't seem to quite know what to do with that but Peggy almost snorts out loud. Classic Steve. Then she pauses, wondering if the extra dates were added by choice or if he was contractually obligated. She didn't like the thought of that.
"Thank you, and next is Michelle Patterson!"
A brunette, maybe close to Peggy's age, takes the mic. "Hi, Dr. Rogers, big fan as well, um, I was just wondering, you said you pull from real life, which we can tell since you write the subject matter so well. But it makes me wonder if the new character at the end, is she pulled from real life too?"
The crowd whispers and murmurs excited chittering and Peggy can tell they also like this question.
Diane laughs, "you've gotten this question every stop Dr. Rogers. You've struck a chord with this character."
Steve nods thoughtfully, "the book is fiction. So she is a fictional character."
But Michelle isn't having it, "of course, right, but do you pull characteristics for her from someone in real life?"
Steve seems slightly wry at the question, "well, I guess you could say so. But all characteristics are pulled from someone. You can't just make up human behaviors or personalities or characters. The knowledge of those things is ingrained by society."
"She just seemed so real," the girl tries again, "so vibrant. Like you pulled her from real life and dashed her across the pages."
Steve's patience was wearing, but he stayed calm, "I appreciate your compliments to my writing skills."
The woman was directed to sit down.
"Jason Harper!"
A man maybe a decade older than Peggy stands up and gets to the mic.
"So, obviously with the cliff hanger there's going to be a third book like you stated. But since you're saying there's not going to be more, are they going to end up together? You've given them such great tension, romantic and otherwise, that I can't imagine him finding a better match."
Steve tilts his head, "are you asking me to spoil the ending of a book I haven't even finished writing?"
The man laughs as does the crowd. But they don't get it. Steve's legitimately asking. Only with her observant eyes does she catch Pepper motioning to Diane for the next.
"Alright, next up we have- Regina Weis!"
An older woman stands and makes her way, "I haven't heard anyone mention the dedication of your books, and I know you don't specifically name who they are dedicated to, but they are so poignant. Short and sweet. How do you come up with them?"
Peggy's heart clenches as she watches something cross his face that she's never had the privilege to see: sentimentality.
"Those dedications are to people in my life who make the world a better place. I write them usually at the end of the book once it's completed and it's simply what I feel like I need to say to them at that moment."
More questions roll by, and a bit more discussion, but then it's ending and Diane announces the signing will be in the next room over.
Peggy finds the largest crowd and slips through the middle of it until she's back in the foyer and out to the street.
She drives to a bookstore and picks up both books.
~V~V~VV~V~VV~
After the long drive home, she heads straight to the diner, takes her usual booth and opens the first book.
She finds the dedication first.
Without you there's no me.
Now without you there's only me.
But you believed in me before I did.
For that reason alone, this is for you.
Something about it has her throat scratchy. She'd looked up his history. And while it may not say the name. She knows.
Sarah Rogers.
She flips to the title page and reads it.
Buried in the Outlands
"Hungry or just thirsty?"
She looks up to Dave and nods, "both. But food first with a coke please? And then coffee once I've finished."
He eyes her, "gonna be here awhile, huh?"
She nods, turning back to the book, "planning on it."
~V~V~VV~V~V~V~
"What!" She gasps, turning the page to see the book is finished, "no!"
She's back in her apartment, in her comfy armchair, a slew of wrappers, cups, and other things surrounding her from her reading binge.
Peggy looks at the clock and it reads 4:17a.m. She had to be up for work in two and a half hours.
She eyes the second book, tempted to get started, but she knows she needs to sleep a bit, so she cleans up and heads to bed, the second book waiting on the nightstand for tomorrow.
~V~V~V~VV~V~V~VV~
Peggy gets home, flicks her heels off, tosses her keys and phone and runs to her bedroom to change. She pulls on some comfy clothes and grabs a large glass of water, a few snacks, and a cup of tea and she settles back into her chair.
Her fingers trace the gently embossed title.
Underneath the Blood Moon
She opens it and searches for the dedication.
To those who work beside me,
Thank you for reminding me I am not among the dead,
To those who work with me,
I thank you for opening my eyes to those still living.
Peggy pauses, rereading the words again and again
- I thank you for opening my eyes to those still living-
She doesn't move or read another word for several minutes.
Was that…
Did he…?
She pushes the thought (and subsequent emotions about it) aside for examination later.
And begins to read.
She's just past when the new character is introduced. The one that had caused such a tizzy at the book event.
And an eerie sense falls over her. As she reads the bitingly sarcastic and whip smart, no-nonsense female agent that the protagonist is paired up with to hopefully solve the dire case… It's like looking in a mirror. As she reads the story, whatever she is actually thinking about the fictional situation seems to then come directly out of the fictional character's mouth. There's no romantic tension written between them, but there's tension all the same. A sort of intellectual and physical draw between them that's undeniable even though they never speak a romantic word or make a romantic gestures.
The clock is glaring it's ungodly hour at her but she ignores it, the climax of the book making her heart beat out of her chest as the protagonist is captured by the villains and buried alive under a blood moon with one of his scientists.
Her fingers are clenching the book in tension and she frets along with the female Agent as she and the remaining two scientists work against the dwindling clock.
"We can't-," one of the characters bemoans, "their 24 hours is almost up."
"Stop worrying and keep thinking!" the female agent hisses, "he left us this clue! Which means he knew we would need to figure it out. Not him, not Peter, but you, me! We have to figure this out!"
Peggy's heart continues to pound as they receive a package from an unknown courier with the Doctor and the other scientist's personal effects with a note that read Too Late.
She turns the page.
And it's blank.
Realization that she's hit the end makes her screech "WHAT!" far too loudly for the time.
She claps a hand over her mouth and stares at the book, unable to believe he would end it there, at such a pivotal moment.
Her pulse races for a long minute before it starts to slow. And now the book tour, the excitement, and all the questions made sense.
These books are phenomenal.
And the second one has just come out… How is she supposed to wait for the next?
Her phone begins to buzz and she looks down to see her alarm going off. She groans and shoves her face in a pillow.