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"A baseball cap? That supposed to be a disguise or something?" The voice was low and quiet in the crowded room, coming from - Peggy smiled to herself - her right side.
"People see what they want," she murmured in reply, barely moving her lips. Even when a woman with a muscular build was nearly six feet tall, and, if the crowd had bothered to look, a dead ringer for the pictures plastered everywhere. She'd pulled her hair back in a simple ponytail, put a baseball cap on, and since she didn't have the Union Jack plastered across her chest, nobody looked twice.
Well, almost no one; one awestruck little girl had spotted her, but quieted after Peggy put a knowing finger to her lips. And now there was Sam, but he'd seen her in civvies before. "I don't suppose this is a happy coincidence?" Now Peggy looked over at him.
"If I said I'd been lurking around the Mall for a few days, that might sound kinda pathetic." Sam shrugged. "Or creepy, depending on how you wanna take it - hopefully not that way. But it's easy enough to swing by on my way after work, take in a bit of history, maybe hope that history is interested in grabbing a cup of coffee."
Peggy covered her laugh with a hand. "I don't think history is exactly the way you want to talk about a woman you want to take out to coffee. Might as well call me a fossil and be done with it." She gestured to the exhibit's exit. It was about time to get out of the past, anyway.
"Didn't say I had a death wish," he retorted. "Besides, fossils are in the Natural History Museum, and that's on the other side of the Mall." They walked past a gift shop that was stuffed to bursting with red, white, and blue memorabilia, and Peggy made a face.
"Dear Lord, do I want to know how much tat is being flogged in there?"
"Depends on whether you want a coffee mug with your face on it."
"God, no. But I am taking you up on that coffee, as long as the cup doesn't have a picture of me." Peggy wouldn't have said no to something stronger - the alcohol didn't affect her anymore, but it was the thought that counted, or that was what she liked to tell herself when she downed a neat glass of scotch.
"Gotta get out of the tourist price hike radius first," Sam explained as he led her down into the Metro station. "I don't feel like paying an arm and a leg for a coffee - and I'm sure as hell not taking you to Starbucks."
"What is the American obsession with coffee that tastes almost entirely of sugar, anyway?" Peggy wondered out loud. She'd barely had more than a taste of sugar since the start of the war, and then she'd ended up here, where everything was cloyingly sweet. She had more than a bit of a sweet tooth herself, but the lengths Americans went to were extreme.
"Had to have something after we tossed all the tea in the harbor, I guess." Sam shrugged and leaned against a pole in the train car. They'd just beat the afternoon rush, but it was still standing room only - the price of going anywhere in downtown DC at nearly any time. Peggy had to squeeze in between people, and she still felt crowded. The last time she'd been on the Tube, she'd been...well, more compact. Just one of those inconvenient prices exacted by the serum, like the near impossibility of shopping for clothes that actually fit.
A short while later, they found seats in the corner of a coffee shop - a small place with mismatched tables and chairs and art by local artists hanging on the walls. "It's nice to have something that isn't the shitty instant coffee down at the VA." Sam chuckled and shook his head. "I always say I'm gonna try to get the budget for something better, but then I remember someone still has to make it, and I don't have the time for that."
"But you had time to look for me? Do you usually pick up women by hanging around museums hoping they'll turn up?"
"Well, most women don't have museum exhibits dedicated to them."
Peggy made a face. In fact, she'd stayed away as long as she could until curiosity finally drove her to see the wretched thing; it was pure luck Sam had managed to corner her. Truth be told, she was a little glad he'd gotten her out of there before she'd been overwhelmed by her own nostalgia.
"Yeah, I'd probably feel the same way. There's something to be said for just being a regular guy." Sam smiled at her - the same warm smile he'd given her the morning they met - and Peggy found herself surprisingly enchanted by it. There was a part of her that insisted that it was a betrayal of Steve's memory, but Steve wouldn't have wanted her to live in the past, to spend all her time pining after him. In fact, Sam reminded her more than a little bit of Steve.
"How does it feel to live a regular life? I honestly think I've forgotten. I don't know what I'd do without work at SHIELD," Peggy admitted frankly. Which was a problem, because she was trusting them - trusting Fury specifically - less and less.
Sam pretended to think. "Honestly? I bet you could make a ton as a professional fighter. Just throwin' that out there. But me, I'm happy not being a soldier anymore. I mean, the number of people giving me orders is down to about zero, so life's pretty good."
"I've never been especially good at following orders myself." Which might have possibly been one of the biggest understatements of all time. "Frankly, I would have been happier as a spy, but I'm afraid the serum made that an impossibility. Someone like me can't hide in the shadows."
"Gotta find some pretty big shadows, that's for sure." Sam let his gaze linger on Peggy appreciatively, and she offered a tentative smile back. "Listen, I know we're still on coffee here, but I'm just gonna throw this out - what are you doing for dinner later?"
She arched her eyebrows. "Terribly forward of you. But if you're offering, then I accept."