A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the long break, the last few weeks have been hectic for me. I hope everyone had a lovely holidays and enjoyed their time with friends and family. Where I live in Australia we've been in a heatwave the entirety of the Christmas break so we've been sweltering. I'd just like to thank you all for so many views, reviews, favourites and follows. It means the world to me. Hopefully we can get back to a somewhat regular posting schedule from now. Here's a partly fluff chapter for you all, but there are some deeper story plots such as the impact of the Great Depression and Steve's acclimation to being Captain America in here as well. Happy New Year!

35.

London, United Kingdom

February 14th, 1944

Isabel is in the change room in one of the small dress boutiques along Oxford Street in London's city centre, trying on a new navy-blue dress that Peggy's picked out for her. She slips it over her frame and fastens the buttons at the back, zipping it up. It's got a high laced neck and sits nicely over her hips, hugging her legs before stopping just below the knee. She does a little twirl in front of the mirror before emerging to show Peggy, who sits on the small seat outside the door.

"What do you think?" Isabel asks.

"I love it. That colour looks nice on you," Peggy says, smiling at her friend.

"I like it, too," Isabel decides. "I'm going to get it."

"Treat yourself," Peggy agrees. "There's no reason why a girl can't look good, even if she is fighting a war."

"That's exactly what I was thinking!" Isabel exclaims through the door.

Isabel emerges a few minutes later in her own outfit for the day and goes to the register to pay. Just as she's about the pull the cash from her purse, still struggling to grasp the English money, Peggy sneakily hands over the wad of bills to the cashier. "Keep the change," she tells the woman.

"Uh, what?" Isabel stammers.

Peggy picks up her bag for her and leads her from the shop. "Howard was the one who suggested this shopping trip. He's funding it."

"I can't take Howard's money!" Isabel protests.

"You aren't taking it from him, he's giving it to you. It's a gift," Peggy reassures. She looks at Isabel beside her for a moment. "You have a real thing about people buying things for you, don't you?" She asks critically.

"Yes, I do. I grew up poor, money was hard to come by. We had to work real hard for our money and it never went very far. I appreciate the value of the dollar, and I don't like people just giving it to me," Isabel argues.

"Fair enough, but you don't need to worry about Howard. The man's a millionaire. I'm sure he can spare a few dollars to buy us new dresses," Peggy answers. She ponders for a moment. "My family was rather well-off, I guess. We never really had to worry about money."

"Not even in the Depression?"

"No, not really."

"Lucky," Isabel mumbles.

"Yes, I suppose in that way I am. But I never realised it until you've just brought it up, so thank you for that," Peggy notes.

"You're welcome, I guess," Isabel mutters. "Speaking of bringing things up… You and my brother, huh?"

"I should have known this conversation was coming," Peggy chuckles in embarrassment.

"I walked into the tent while you two were having a deep and meaningful and he gave me those puppy dog eyes to let him sleep in there with you. I'd have to be pretty dumb to miss that," Isabel tells her, raising her eyebrow. "Besides, Peg, he's been telling everyone he talks to that you guys are sweet on each other. He came to find me specifically the other day to tell me that you had accepted his offer to go steady."

"I didn't say yes to going steady, I said yes to dinner," Peggy argues stubbornly.

"Well in New York, that means you're goin' steady. And to Bucky it means that, too."

"Huh," Peggy says, raising her eyebrows. "Can't a man and a woman just have dinner?"

"Well yeah, but not if they're sweet on each other like you two clearly are," Isabel laughs. "I'd like to say I'm surprised he's got his heart set on you, but I'm actually not. You two are good together. And it's about time. I think Bucky's had his mind made up since he met you at the Stork Club that first night."

Peggy blushes slightly, but she hides it well, as well as hiding the beaming smile that threatens to appear on her lips. "When we spoke of dancing, yes. I'm glad we got that dance at Christmas. It sort of… cemented it. Us, I mean."

"Peggy Carter, are you rambling?" Isabel laughs, staring in awe at her friend because Peggy never rambles. Ever.

"Of course not," Peggy replies easily with a small smile.

"You know, Buck was a real ladies' man back home. He always treated 'em nice but he could never choose just one. I'm sure Bucky was trying to treat every girl in the city to at least one date with a gentleman or something. He probably would've done it easy too, had he not shipped out. It used to grate Steve real bad because all Steve ever wanted to do was the find the one."

"Sounds like an interesting way to treat women," Peggy says with a laugh.

"Agreed, but everyone and their mother loved him, so it can't have been such a bad thing," Isabel replies.

"Interesting. You know, I can see that. He's a real flirt, even with the cook in the mess hall."

"That's just Bucky. I think it comes naturally, like breathing," Isabel tells Peggy. "I'm just glad he met you. Maybe it will settle him down, you know? Mama would be so pleased if he came home with a woman one day."

"I look forward to it," Peggy says quietly with a sappy smirk. "Your brother is a good man. He's also rather persistent," Peggy observes, looking contemplative.

"Tell me about it."

"Because of that, I'm rather intent on playing hard to get a little longer. See how long he can hold out for. That way, the end prize will be all the more satisfying."

"Do it," Isabel laughs. "As much as Bucky's a gentleman, he's never had to deal with rejection from a woman, or even just waiting. Back in Brooklyn, they all jumped at a date with him. He needs to be knocked off his womaniser pedestal just a few notches. You should've seen him moping that first night in the Stork Club," Isabel giggles at the memory. "All sad like a kicked puppy. He told me he didn't like to play childish games of tag and chasey, but I think you can let him chase his tail a little while longer."

"Why are we going up to the roof?" Isabel asks, following Peggy up the multiple staircases.

The Brit walks confidently, not turning around to face her friend when she answers, "I believe Howard has an invention hidden up here he wants you to see. He's been working on it for a long while."

"I don't understand why Howard always shows me his inventions. They're fascinating, sure, but I have no idea how any of them work and I don't think I can truly appreciate them the way he does. I'm not a scientist or an inventor."

"Howard comes from the Stark lineage. He's a terrible show-off and he loves the attention. What's better than that attention coming from a pretty female, even if you aren't attainable for him?" Peggy says easily.

"Right, didn't think of that. And why did you insist on me wearing this new dress if I was going to be seeing one of Stark's inventions? There's a high chance it will either get ripped or burned, depending on what he's come up with," Isabel continues, looking suspiciously at her British friend.

"You'll see," Peggy replies. While Isabel can't see her face, she can hear the cheekiness in her voice, making Isabel narrow her eyes even more.

They eventually come to the roof access, a sign on the door reminding people not to emerge onto the roof after dark during the blackout. Peggy pushes the door open, stepping out easily into the sunlight that has surprisingly appeared through the clouds. It's still freezing, only just coming out of the harsh winter, but the days are starting to get slightly warmer and the snow is beginning to slow, melting just as it hits the ground. The day isn't windy, thankfully, as the two girls step out onto the concrete of the roof.

Isabel looks around, not seeing the famous inventor or any of his contraptions. "Peggy, there's no one here," Isabel says, turning back around to find her friend in the doorway of the roof access, attempting to sneak away. "Peggy?"

"Just because Sergeant Barnes and I are playing chasey, doesn't mean you need to," Peggy says cryptically before she closes the door behind her, the lock clicking shut.

Isabel turns back around to look back out at the roof, wondering whether Howard is actually on the roof. Nevertheless, she walks around slowly, not entirely surprised when she sees Steve standing on his own looking out at the London rooftops around them, looking dapper in his army uniform.

"Steve?" Isabel asks in confusion.

Steve spins around, his face instantly lighting up at the sight of his girl. "Belle," he smiles, quickly walking over to her. He takes her in his arms and presses his lips to hers, sweet and delicate.

"Hi," Isabel breathes when Steve pulls away, smiling up at him. "What are you doing up here? Peggy told me that How… Oh," Isabel laughs, the situation finally falling into place. "I knew there was something fishy about all this. It was just a plan to get me up here without expecting anything."

"One point to you," Steve jokes. "Turns out I can successfully plan things other than missions."

"I didn't doubt that," Isabel laughs. "So, what is this, exactly?"

"It's a date," Steve says. He nods his head to their left where there's a picnic rug laid out neatly on the ground, another rug folded to the side of it, and a wicker picnic basket beside that.

"What?" Isabel laughs.

"It's a little hard for us to go out for a date considering how often Phillips needs me and how the Commandos usually tag along to the Stork Club, but the Colonel promised me a few hours alone with you as long as I was close by. So, this will have to do. And also, there aren't any paparazzi up here trying to get a picture of me."

"It's perfect," Isabel smiles.

Steve pulls his hand out from behind his back, handing her his camera. She goes to the edge of the cement wall and he helps her adjust the controls before she takes a few pictures of the London skyline, out over the River Thames. Then, Isabel makes Steve stand at the cement wall, forces him to smile, laughs at his expression as he smiles straight into the sun, squinting. Steve tells her it's her turn, taking the camera from her. Isabel poses away from the sun, looking over her shoulder at the skyline. Steve takes a picture but doesn't tell her he has.

She turns to smile at him, waiting. "Did you take it?" She asks, her voice impatient.

Steve snaps the picture of her turned to smile at him, London stretching far and wide behind her. She looked beautiful in the first, but even more so in this one, relaxed and off-guard, unprepared. He always liked her like that, always thought she looked most gorgeous when she didn't mean to. "I got it now," Steve says with a cheeky smile, holding out his hand.

Steve leads Isabel to the picnic rug and sits down, his back against the wall. Isabel sits beside him and leans into his side. Steve grabs the folded blanket and wraps it around them, fighting off the cold.

"I hope you won't be too cold," he mutters.

"Steve, it feels like I'm sitting against the sun," Isabel laughs. "I'll be fine."

"Good. Wouldn't want my girl to be uncomfortable," Steve smiles, squeezing Isabel's shoulder. "Now, I hope you're hungry. I wrangled Bucky into going down to the mess hall and charming that middle-aged female cook. Bucky was a little sour about it, but you know how no woman can resist his charms. She was very obliging to make him up a picnic basket. I think she may have been under the impression that she was going on the date with Bucky, but she was ultimately disappointed."

Isabel laughs at the mental image. "Oh, poor Bucky. The things he does for you."

"He secretly loves it. Let's see what we got in here." Steve pulls a bunch of cut sandwiches from the basket, as well as two slices of vanilla cake coated in frosting and a few ration chocolate bars.

"This looks lovely, Steve, but it won't be enough to satisfy your seemingly bottom-less pit of a stomach," Isabel says.

"I can always go down to get another lunch later in the mess hall. I'd rather just spend the time with you. Oh, and I got this," Steve says smugly, pulling an expensive-looking bottle of wine from the basket. "Didn't even have to get Bucky to sweet-talk anyone for this beauty."

"What? How did you get this?" Isabel asks, taking the bottle from Steve and reading the label. "Steve! This would have cost a fortune!"

"I was going to take credit, but I can't. It's a good thing we know a multi-millionaire – Howard got it for us. He agreed that we both deserved a bit of downtime together without the Commandos getting drunk in the booth next to us."

"That's very sweet of him," Isabel smiles, making a mental note to thank Howard later.

Steve pulls two wine glasses from the basket and hands them to Isabel. He easily pops the cork from bottle, smoothly pouring the wine into the glasses. He puts the bottle back down, taking his glass from Isabel.

"Here's to us," he toasts, clinking his glass against Isabel's.

"To us."

They both sip the wine, and Isabel's eyebrows rise. "This tastes amazing, no wonder it's so expensive." She then proceeds to down the rest of her glass, smacking her lips in delight.

"Woah," Steve laughs, eyeing the empty glass.

"It's a Barnes thing, don't judge. My mother is Russian and my father comes from a farming family, they know how to drink. We all can all drink, and we can all do it well," Isabel says, letting Steve fill her glass up again.

"I'm not saying anything," Steve laughs, watching her take another sip, slower this time.

"I've grown so used to having to drink whiskey and scotch and beer at the Stork Club and from Falsworth's sneaky flash, I didn't realise how much I missed drinking something that actually tastes nice."

"Whiskey is nice," Steve argues.

"If you like that sort of thing." Isabel shrugs her shoulder before leaning back against Steve again, his arm wrapping comfortably around her waist. "What did you do today?"

"I had a meeting with Phillips this morning."

"What about? The next mission?"

"No," Steve says. "He, uh, well… There were some comments he made a while ago that he wanted to amend," Steve continues vaguely.

Isabel turns to frown at him. "What sort of comments?"

"You remember when I first was injected with the super-solder serum, he said he wanted an army and I wasn't enough? He was going to send me to Alamogordo?"

"I remember," Isabel says sourly. "I know he's turned out to be nice to me, but I'm not sure I'll ever forget he said that," she warns. "What did he say just now?"

"You're the only one we've got, Cap. You were intended to be only the first of many, but now you're it. I know I had my doubts at first, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sure I'm not the first person you've come across to immediately disregard your ability."

"You're right, sir. You aren't." Steve swallows down the pain that still lingers from that one comment. "It really is okay, sir–"

"It isn't," Phillips insists. "I was wrong to be so judgemental, and I apologise. You're the one man we've got, along with your Commandos of course, and we need to utilise you as effectively as we can."

"That's the goal, sir. I'm planning to attack, headlong, every Hydra facility in Europe. We can branch out from there," Steve explains.

"I know. I just… want to make sure that you understand the meaning behind that costume you wear and that name you carry." Phillips pauses, watches as Steve's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Captain America is an alter ego and a symbolic identity. When you don that uniform, you're no longer a private citizen. You're no longer Steve Rogers. You're… America herself. Captain America. You're giving the country a rallying point, leading them to victory. Even if you don't fight physically beside the American soldiers, you are with them in spirit and in morale."

Steve thinks about this thoroughly. "I understand, sir. I know that the moniker is much more than just a name and a costume. When I am Captain America, I am Captain America. I'm a different person. I think that's really important."

"It is," Phillips reassures. "Plus, you're giving old Adolf something to think about."

"I'm not so sure I can live up to that, Belle," Steve admits, rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks are tinged pink with the memory of the compliment.

"Steve, Doctor Erskine chose you because he believed in you. And if Phillips thinks you can, you can. That man isn't easy to please," Isabel points out, earning a chuckle from Steve. "You already know that I have complete faith in you, and so does Bucky. We always have. When I told you that you were the brightest star, I meant it. You can do and be anything you want, Stevie," Isabel promises sincerely.

Steve nods, a small smile on his lips, but he still looks unsettled. He looks out at the skyline a long while, pondering, the wind ruffling his blonde hair lightly.

"There's something else bothering you about what Phillips said?" Isabel guesses, watching him critically.

"You'll think it's silly," Steve laughs.

"I guarantee I won't."

"I feel like the world expects me to always be Captain America and no one wants Steve Rogers anymore. After all, there was no place in the world for me before I got the serum, why would there be for Steve now? Nothing's really changed. Steve wasn't the one who saved all those men, that was Captain America. I feel like Captain America is now my reality and Steve Rogers is the alter ego, not the other way around. It's like Steve Rogers died and in his place was born a symbol for the glory that is America."

Isabel frowns at that. "Stevie," she breathes. "There is no Captain America without Steve Rogers."

"But there could be. I'm not the only person who could have been given the serum," Steve argues.

"Not everyone is like you, Steve. Not everyone is as good, or as just, or as honest and kind. The serum amplified all the things that were already within you. Not just anyone can say they had those things to begin with." Isabel takes Steve's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Captain America is more than just the strength and power; he's made up of everything else that you're made up of. It's the total package that makes it work. If Captain America didn't have you, he'd be no more."

"I guess that makes sense," Steve mutters.

"But you don't need Captain America to be Steve Rogers," Isabel notes. "As for Steve Rogers, do you know what I see?"

Steve looks up and shakes his head. Their eyes meet for a moment, Isabel's warm and kind but critical and thoughtful. "What do you see?" Steve asks quietly.

"Well, first of all, Steve was the one who I said was the brightest star, not the Captain," Isabel points out. "I don't think of you as Captain America at all. To even call you that seems… strange. To me, you're just Steve out doing all the things he was always meant to do and making a difference like he always wanted. You're just Steve who all of a sudden got all the attention and recognition he always deserved. When I look at you, I see the man from Brooklyn, the wounded soldier, the artist, the man who still can't dance, a kind soul, the man that I'm sweet on. You're a lot of things, Steve, but you aren't only Captain America," Isabel promises.

Steve looks down again as his cheeks redden with blush but forces himself to look up at her again. He smiles, crinkling at the eyes. "Thanks, Belle."

"You're very welcome," Isabel reassures.

Steve sits back, looking content and reassured and like a thousand tonnes have been relieved from his care. He pulls her back against him and they sit looking out at the skyline for a while, at the fluffy pillows of clouds that lazily make their way across the grey sky. Steve reaches over into the basket and pulls out a sandwich quarter, handing it to Isabel, before stuffing his own in his mouth.

"So, what did you and Peggy do today? You were gone for ages," Steve asks, attempting to steer them away from their rather deep conversations earlier.

Isabel swallows the last of her sandwich quarter. She's thankful for the subject change, that Steve's accepted her answer. It may take him a while to come to terms with it himself, but at least he knows how she feels.

"She took me shopping in Oxford Street. It was swell, they have so many clothing styles I've never seen before. She said most of the styles come from Paris, they haven't reached New York yet. I told her I couldn't afford any of it, but she reassured me it was fine. Found out at the first register that Howard had given her a wad of cash to spend on ourselves."

"What?" Steve asks. "Howard gave you two money to go shopping?"

"Yes. If he keeps spoiling us we might come to expect that sort of treatment," Isabel teases.

"I'm surprised you two didn't bleed him dry," Steve chuckles, earning a mock-punch of protest from Isabel. "That man is too good. I'm going to have to step up my game in the boyfriend duty department."

"You don't have to do that, Steve," Isabel says, turning around to face Steve and leaning against him. "You are the most perfect man to go steady with that any girl could ask for. Just the way you look at me makes me feel like the luckiest girl alive."

Steve's eyes crinkle as he smiles widely. "I'm glad you feel that way, but I think it's really the other way around. I am the luckiest man in the entire world."

Isabel laughs. "Stop using my lines," she tells him, pouncing forward to take his lips with her own. Steve meets her in the middle, his hand winding up into her hair as he kisses back, feeling as though fireworks are being set off in his stomach.

They pull away after a while when Steve's stomach grumbles loudly, making them both laugh.

"You need to eat more," Isabel pushes, reaching into the basket and pulling out Steve's slice of cake and unwrapping it for him. "Your stomach is almost as loud as Dugan's snoring."

"Nothing is as loud as that," Steve laughs, shoving half of the cake slice in his mouth in one go.

"You're so gross," Isabel says, crinkling her nose at Steve's slopping eating, cake crumbs on his lip and chin.

"You love it," Steve retorts, wiping his mouth. "God, I'm so hungry all the time."

"That's the downside to being built like the Empire State Building," Isabel laughs, but then her face falls. She watches him chew the last of his cake before asking, "Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"New York... The life we used to have?"

Steve takes a while to think, brushing the crumbs carefully from his shirt front. "Sometimes. It was easier and safer back then. It was home. We had so many memories in that city, an entire life's worth. But even though we're away from it now, it's still with us. We'll always be from Brooklyn, so matter where we are in the world or what we're doing. It's kind of bittersweet to think about."

Isabel nods in understanding, leaning back against the wall beside Steve and taking Steve's hand in her own. She fiddles with his fingers and subconsciously rubs circles into the back of his hand as they look out at the London landscape for a while, the sun warm against them despite the cold chill of the air. The fog has lifted over the buildings and streets around them, revealing the beauty of the old architecture. In the distance, it's clear enough to see the River Thames winding between the city, a ferry putting across the water toward Greenwich far off to the left.

"It's a shame we can't go sightseeing," Isabel remarks. "Feels like a waste that our first time away from the United States isn't spent on a holiday, but for work."

"Agreed," Steve says. "One day we'll see the world and it won't be for work or when we're in danger. We can go anywhere we want and we can see all the sights, try all the food, meet all the people."

"But I don't want to wait," Isabel laughs. "I've gotten a taste of a life outside of Brooklyn and I like it. I never realised what I was missing out on until I actually took a step out of my comfort zone. I was comfortable and safe in Brooklyn, and yes, I was doing good working in the hospitals. But seeing the possibilities that are out there, all the things there are to do… It feels like I don't have enough time in my life to do it all."

Steve is silent for a while, looking out at the city. "For a long time I didn't even think I would make it to thirty. I just accepted the fact that I would spend all of my days in Brooklyn and I'd never be well enough or have the time to venture anywhere else. But now I'm healthy and I've got time. I've got what I wanted, I'm a soldier, but at the same time I've been opened up to so many possibilities I never imagined having. There's so many things I want to do and so many places I want to go, and I want to go there with you."

"Can we go? When the war is over?"

"When the war is over, I promise," Steve tells her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him. "We're gonna live life, Belle, and we're gonna love it."