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After a long night of tossing and turning, Sam gave up on sleep just before dawn, opting for his usual cure of a run around the National Mall. The soothing rhythm of feet hitting the pavement chased the ghosts from his mind like few other things could.
As he crossed the bridge over the Potomac, Sam caught the sound of another runner echoing in the pre-dawn stillness. They came up behind him fast, faster than he was used to hearing anyone else run.
A chipper voice came from just behind him. "On your left!" Sam only caught the barest impression of brown hair and muscular shoulders before they rounded a curve and vanished out of sight behind the Jefferson Memorial.
Okay, whatever, it was a little weird, but Sam had seen weirder in New Orleans, and not even during Mardi Gras. He kept running along the shore of the Tidal Basin, only to get another "On your left!" a few minutes later. Sam now knew two things about his mystery runner: they were British, and they were really dedicated to annoying him.
The third pass took longer, and the sun was up by the time his own personal troll passed Sam on the way to the Lincoln Memorial. Sam heard those too-quick footsteps coming up behind him again and groaned. "Don't you say it!" he warned.
"On your left!"
For a fleeting moment, Sam imagined catching up to the other runner and pushing them into the Reflecting Pool. But park security tended to frown on that sort of thing, and it wasn't Sam's style, anyway. That didn't keep him from speeding up just a little bit to get the frustration out of his system, though.
As Sam cooled down under a tree, his mystery runner spotted him and veered off the path. "Have enough fun for one morning?" she asked, one side of her lips quirking up in a smile.
"Oh, yeah," Sam deadpanned. "Did you get another lap or two in while I was sitting down?"
"Something like that." She leaned down to offer Sam a hand up, and he gripped her forearm as he stood. He could feel the muscle under her skin, and now that they were face to face, he could see that she topped him by a few inches. "Peggy Carter."
"Yeah, I kinda figured that one out." It wasn't like the DC area had a lot of muscular British women with super-speed - or, if they did, Sam hadn't yet found out where the government was keeping them, which was a damn shame. "Sam Wilson."
"Sam." She repeated his name and nodded at his sweatshirt. "You served?"
"Yes'm. 58th Pararescue, two tours in Afghanistan. Might not be the same as punching Hitler, but-"
"Oi, that never happened," Peggy protested with a laugh. "A giant squid, yes, but I never got the chance to punch Hitler. We were too busy focusing on taking down HYDRA. Though moving on Berlin might have been easier for all of us." She glanced away for a moment, and Sam could guess what she was thinking about. It was why he was out running, too.
"So, how's the twenty-first century treating you?" he asked.
"Well, microwaves are bloody brilliant, for one thing." Peggy seemed pleased to change the topic. "Even if Stark tried to convince me that the radiation would make my head explode - honestly, the men in that family are all the same." She huffed with mock indignation. "And the medical advances! And, frankly, not having to deal with rationing or the Depression anymore."
Sam thought for a moment. Probably Captain Carter had everyone recommending something she'd missed out on while she'd been - well, whatever she'd done stuck in a cube for sixty years. He wasn't sure what he could suggest, but then it dawned on him. "Fluffernutter sandwiches."
"Pardon?" Her eyebrows drew together.
"Marshmallow fluff and peanut butter on a sandwich." Sam nodded sagely. "You'll thank me for it later."
"Hm." She took a small notebook and pen out of the pocket of her shorts. "That's a new one. I'll have to give it a try."
"You do that." Sam tilted his head. "Maybe next time you can't sleep at night."
"That obvious?" She laughed ruefully. "Maybe I'm just an early bird trying to get the proverbial worms."
"You can see it in people, if you know what to look for. The folks who've been there, know what it's like. Those of us who left part of ourselves over there." Now it was Sam's turn to glance down at the grass.
"And those of us who never stopped fighting." She pulled a phone from her pocket and thumbed through the texts. "Speaking of, it looks like I've got a job to do. It was nice meeting you, Sam."
"Same. Feel free to drop by the VA sometime, make me look good in front of my coworkers."
"Oh?" Peggy looked surprised, and Sam realized he hadn't mentioned his occupation. "Maybe I'll do that." She winked at him before she walked off into the crowd of people starting to gather on the Mall.