Chapter Text
Michael walks out of the private meeting room alone and notices that Steve and Bucky are still milling about. He makes his way toward them. Now that his sister is occupied and unable to interfere with a disapproving frown, the elder Carter has business to attend to regarding Captain Rogers.
“Lieutenant Colonel,” Steve says punctuating with a respectful salute.
Michael appreciates the gesture, not for his own sake, not for the sake of propriety but for his sister. Although Peggy has not told him anything directly, only slightly uncharacteristic since they had not discussed Fred much until the engagement party, he has plenty of suspicion that this time Peggy has found a love match. He’s heard story after story about the heroics of Captain America, and has heard whispers and rumors about his affection for a certain brown-haired English dame-on-duty. Even Phillips had joked about Rogers’ crush. These suspicions were not enough. It was his duty, as her dearly devoted brother, to determine the exact nature of Rogers’ intentions.
It was time for Steve Rogers to demonstrate the depth of his interest in his sister
“I didn’t get a chance earlier to introduce myself properly. Michael Carter,” he says. He turns toward Bucky and extends his hand. “And you must be Sergeant Barnes.” They shake hands easily, and Michael notices there is no longer mistrust in his face. He holds back a laugh. “It’s an honor to finally meet you both.”
“It’s an honor to meet you,” Steve replies a little too eagerly, which makes his friend grin in amusement. “I mean, you’ve been fighting since before either of us even joined up.”
Michael nods solemnly. He thinks of his original unit, how many of those men were no longer among the living. He thinks he will never stop carrying the weight of that. “I didn’t hope for this war to still be raging so many years later. But we must press on.”
“So, you’ve heard of us?” Bucky asks a few moments later in an attempt for levity.
Michael smiles. “I make it a point to know those in close proximity to my sister.” He fixes his gaze on Steve. “So gentlemen, how about a drink? We’ll go have a pint and toast to our fallen comrades and to the hell we will bring to Hitler’s doorstep.”
Steve readily agrees and turns to his friend for approval.
“I could use a good drink,” Bucky says with a shrug.
“Splendid. Ah, Peggy there you are,” Michael calls as he sees his sister walking in their direction.
“You’re still here? Shouldn’t the white knight be returning to his post at Whitehall?” she inquires in a mocking tone.
“We’re going for a drink,” he says cheerfully.
“We?”
“Yes, Peg. Me, Sergeant Barnes, you and the Captain,” he explains while pointing. “They’re really looking forward to it,” Michael adds when her lips tighten.
Peggy eyes her brother warily as he grins at her and then at Steve. She knows Michael too well not to know when he is scheming. Unfortunately there is no means of stopping this, no matter how much she feels an urge to throttle her brother. Michael knows that she wants to stop this plan but Steve is all too polite and there’s even a mischievous glint in Sergeant Barnes' eye. The truth is she loves seeing her brother too much, especially after many months apart. And he knows that she knows that not coming along allows her absolutely no control of the situation. And Peggy does not like situations she cannot handle.
“There’s a pub I quite enjoy that luckily still has all four walls and roof intact,” Michael breaks the silence while Peggy continues to look at him crossly.
The pub is packed with men and women in military dress, mostly British, although there are a few small groups of Americans. It’s just as loud as the other pubs the Commandos had frequented while in town, but this one seemed larger, with more space for dancing and musicians. Michael waves to a familiar barkeep and leads them to a recently vacated table, purposefully away from the bar. He carefully manages to maneuver Steve into the seat across from his own. With a perfect direct line of sight to eye him carefully.
He had planned to have a few minutes of sit-down with Rogers, by way of a firm suggestion to Peggy and Bucky about getting the table’s drinks. But he doesn't even get a chance to ramp up to his interrogation. Steve stood up and was offering to order the drinks for everyone.
“And for you Peggy?” Steve asks once Michael had supplied his request.
“Whiskey, neat. Thank you,” Peggy tells him, rewarding him with a small smile before returning to glaring at Michael.
“Buck?”
“I could do with a pint,” Bucky says without looking away from the stare-down happening between the Carters.
Steve grabs his shoulder. “I meant come help carry the drinks.”
Bucky grumbles, because now that he knows there are two Carters, he's endless fascinated and amused by their dynamic. But he stands and dutifully walks with Steve toward the bar.
"Now that's a good lad," Michael says once they are out of earshot. "Actually asked what you wanted instead of handing you a glass befitting of a lady."
Peggy snorts. "Yes, he's not one to make assumptions about people."
“Perhaps it's the Yank in him," he teases.
While there are plenty of families in Britain who turn their noses down at the Americans, even as they are now powerful allies, united by this war. The Carters are not one of them. Their father had forged many a military friendship with Americans during the Great War, and he made sure that neither Michael nor Peggy had forgotten this.
Peggy glares at him anyway.
"Darling, I'm only teasing. Relax. I'm your big brother. And I know exactly what to say and do."
"Well that's never been true before," she quips back. “You don’t honestly think I don’t suspect what you are up to.”
Michael shrugs. “Having a drink with my dearest sister, and getting to know the sort of riffraff she’s been associating with.”
He grins at her scoff. Pushing Peggy’s buttons has always been one of the great pleasures of his life. They have always been very good at teasing each other out of affection.
She seeks distraction in the glass of whiskey that Steve places in front of her.
"Cheers, Captain," Michael lifts his glass in thanks. "So I hear you used to be quite a bit shorter," he says.
"Michael!" Peggy scolds.
But Steve just shrugs while Bucky nods his head in confirmation.
"Think the top of my head just barely reached Bucky's shoulders. Right Buck?"
"And that's only when there were newspapers in your shoes," Bucky laughs. "I could throw him over my shoulder. Made it easy to carry him home after he got beat up."
Michael grins, turning his gaze pointedly toward his sister. "Oh, I’m familiar with that."
He remembers throwing little rambunctious Peggy over his own shoulder when she started to beat up neighborhood boys who wouldn't let her join in on their games.
“Oh?” Steve perks at that.
Peggy says nothing, and only continues to drink.
“It was for the protection of others,” Michael explains.
Bucky chokes on his beer. “Born a brawler then.”
“Quite,” Michael agrees.
“I learnt it all from you, wanker,” Peggy tosses back matter-of-factly.
All three men burst out in laughter.
"And what's your favorite part of your new stature? The power? The status? Knowing you if someone hopes to beat you up they’d need an army?" Michael continues steadfastly in his inquiry.
He has a purpose to this outing, and he would continue to steer this conversation back to his original plan. Captain America as a symbol of hope and strength was all fine and dandy. But Michael knew all too well how a brand new uniform and a shiny gun could chance a man. What it did to a man’s ego. How it could alter a man’s integrity.
"Actually, I think it's the breathing. And colors. Never used to be able to see red before."
The statement seems to make Steve flush a little, and his eyes shift to and away from Peggy in a flash. Bucky wonders if he's thinking of her lipstick, or that dress. Probably the dress. He still thinks about that dress too.
Michael seems surprised by Steve's answer. "It must feel like a whole new world to you."
"Oh yeah. Fresh air never smelled so good," Steve chuckles.
And for a while the tension in Peggy's face loosens. Michael asks Steve and Bucky about Brooklyn and their friendship. There are long discussions of the war, and sharing of tales of wartime camaraderie that do not make it into the newspapers. And as Steve recounts one of the many stories involving Peggy punching some guy flat on his back, with great enthusiasm, she knows her brother has already approved of Steve. Tonight reminds her of another drink she had with him, but she feels so removed from that girl. In a way it felt like it happened in a different lifetime. And the fondness she feels for Steve is incomparable.
"I hear you Americans are issued right proper compasses," Michael says in an offhand voice. "I'd love to see a piece of fine American engineering," he directs at Steve.
Peggy grabs blindly at Steve's arm, hand already reaching into his pocket. Michael makes a mental note of the way Rogers’ arm jolts when Peggy touched him.
"Michael, don't be a tosser," Peggy warns but Michael's face is staunch and serious and demanding.
Peggy swats at Steve again, this time turning to face him, but he presses on.
"It's okay," Steve says, albeit a bit of worry on his face.
He passes his compass into Michael's outreached hand. Peggy watches her brother study it with arms crossed. She is livid. Finally, Michael flips it open and bites back a grin at the interior. Just as he suspected, but here it was staring him plainly in the face.
"Wonderful craftsmanship. But I wonder if it indeed points north?"
Peggy glowers in her seat unable to find the right words to stop her brother or help Steve. She ends up making eye contact with Barnes, his snigger of amusement only irritating her further.
"It points to true north," Steve replies firmly.
Michael glances between the compass and his sister. "Excellent. You take good care of this then," Michael says snapping the compass closed and handing it back.
From Steve's slight pink tint Peggy is sure he knows this was not really about his compass, and his words make Peggy feel a little warm, maybe even excited.
"I will," Steve vows, gently reaching out for his compass, fingers holding on to it reverently as he slips it back into the protection of his pocket.
Steve and Peggy sit alone at the table. Bucky had headed toward the bathroom, and likely to check out a group of pretty girls sitting together in that general direction. Michael is at the bar ordering refills and chatting with all sorts of patrons who look to be regulars. Neither says anything. There’s nothing in his glass so Steve resorts to scraping his fingernail against the wooden table.
“So, um, I guess you knew about my compass?” Steve stammers out. “About the picture I mean.”
“I saw it in one of your reels at a briefing while sitting next to Phillips.”
“Oh,” he lowers his head, feeling guilty. He knows she’s already gotten flack on his behalf. “I’m-”
“Sorry?” she fills in for him. “Are you?”
Steve makes a point to look her in the eye. She doesn’t look particularly upset. And if she knew, and she hadn’t popped one across his jaw, then well, there was that.
“I’m sorry about not being careful enough to make sure they didn’t film it,” he clarifies. “I’m not sorry I have it.”
Peggy’s lips turn up. “You might have asked for a better photograph.”
“I like the one I have very much.”
Her smile grows until it blooms over her entire face. She presses her hand against the one he had resting atop the table. He blinks slowly at her and then a silent pleased sigh escapes him.
Bucky strikes out with the pretty girls who were engulfed by English soldiers when he returned from the bathroom. Instead he joins Michael at the bar. Together they peer over at Steve and Peggy who were now angled towards each other lost in conversation. Michael passes Bucky a fresh beer.
“So Steve seems to be convinced she’s the bigger badass out of the two of you,” Bucky says after a swig.
Michael laughs. “She is a singularly shrewd and resilient creature.”
“That’s a very British way of putting it,” Bucky remarks.
“Cheers.” Michael leans over and clinks his glass to his genially. And then after a few long drafts he adds, “I owe her my life.”
Bucky stares at him hard for a moment. “And I owe mine to him.”
He lets out a sigh, and even without knowing the particulars, something shifts in his perception of Peggy. When he looks over at her brother, he gets the sense that Michael had a similar regard about Steve, even before this outing.
“The right partners,” Bucky echoes the words he heard Peggy say in a different pub.
“Rather looks that way, indeed.”
They wordlessly agree to give the couple another few minutes.
“You ought to be spanked for your behavior tonight Michael Carter,” Peggy says in a stern voice, as they walk the dark London street together, sounding oddly alike their mother.
“Oh come on Peg. We had quite a bit of fun, didn’t we?”
“Fun for you at the expense of embarrassing your sister.”
“Oh well ladies and gentlemen of the Commonwealth, see here: Peggy Carter finds her brother an embarrassment upon her suitor’s honor,” Michael announces in a voice loud enough to make passersby pause.
“Unbelievable. You know that?” she hisses. “And he’s not my…” she trails off, rolling her eyes. She exhales and takes in a deep, calming breath. “He’s a good man.”
Michael stops walking and turns to her, pressing a hand to her shoulder. “Yes he is.”
She smiles gratefully at her brother.
“So,” Michael begins as they start walking again, “shall I go ahead and call him brother, or is it just as tad too soon?”
To his mild surprise and intense amusement, Margaret Carter blushes a full and blotchy red.