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“Perhaps you should have listened when I said to be more careful,” Peggy said, ushering Steve to the sofa before rushing off to fix a baggy of ice.
She bit back her laughter as Steve groaned and adjusted a pillow beneath his knee. It wasn’t like testing had been done on the long-term effects of the serum—or that either of them could think of a way to test that. But the serum was never meant to make him invincible or immortal. And, at least in recent times, Steve’s body seemed to be enforcing breaks now. Usually while playing with Anthony, as it had today, when Steve’s confidence took him over a fence in pursuit of a rogue baseball.
Peggy was almost positive he’d be good as new within the hour, but he looked rather defeated at the moment.
She returned to his side and draped a towel over his leg, shaking her head at the bruise forming below his knee. Steve gave her an impish grin before accepting the ice pack.
“I just thought—”
“That you were invincible.”
Steve pressed his fingers into his forehead. “Not invincible. Just not so… fragile.”
“Human may be the word you’re looking for. And welcome to aging!” She offered, trying to pull any other emotion from his strained expression.
It had taken years to even comprehend the life he’d lived before making it back to her, so she didn’t dare to assume what he was going through. She could only empathize and try to relate. On this, however, she felt more adequate in understanding the experience. Getting older sucked, and not even Super Soldiers were excluded. Just delayed.
He sighed, stuffing another pillow behind his back. “It feels like something’s not right. I used to snap back so much faster than this.”
“But, darling, that’s what happens to us all. Suppose it’s just now catching up to you as you’re nearing seventy,” she said, mentioning his age in a stage whisper. That earned her the glimmer of a smile she’d hoped for. “Meanwhile, I stubbed my toe last weekend on the bedpost and had a limp until this past Tuesday.”
She raised her foot to emphasize the point and made him laugh.
“Maybe this old man needs a different hobby.”
“One not involving chasing children and small, flying objects?” She sat down beside him on the narrow cushion and laid a hand on his chest. “Now that doesn’t sound like you at all.”
His hand covered hers, and Peggy couldn’t hold back the hum in her throat. Despite the time spent apart—more for him than her—and all the years they’d gotten back, she still found so much comfort from his simple touch.
“I’m serious, Peg. I could spend more time drawing? Or painting? Maybe rework the shed and make it into a studio.”
There was that sense of optimism in his voice, covering the reluctance to find yet another way to remake himself. Steve was nothing if not imaginative and optimistic—both qualities she adored in her husband and always wanted to bolster. And to his point, it probably was time for him to find other ways to occupy his time. After all, she’d continued advancing and reimagining herself in her work with SHIELD, so why should he remain stationary? A retired life suited him, but only since it gave him the time to actually enjoy life. He’d already taken up gardening, nearly perfected his cooking skills to her surprise, and she couldn’t think of anything better than for him to return to his first love—the arts. Even if that meant she’d be putting up with the sound of construction while he did Lord only knew what to their worn down tool shed. Then again, it also meant she’d be an admirer while he brought his dreams to life, which reminded her of the last time he’d taken on home renovations. And those resulted in their son.
“I think that sounds like a lovely idea,” she said, meeting his eyes and matching the smile now adorning his face. Just as she did, two feet came trampling through the door and into the living room. “And here comes your assistant now!”
Tony held his baseball mitt with both hands, concealing the stray ball that had started the whole affair. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, buddy, I’m all right. I just had to take a break.” Steve waved him over, taking the ball cap off his head to ruffle his hair.
Peggy took the opportunity to remove the partially melted bag of ice from his knee and have a look herself. As she suspected, there were only the faintest shades of yellow and purple on his skin where she knew a bruise should be. Being injured may be foreign to Steve, post-serum, but he was still leaps and bounds beyond the average man.
“I’d say your uncle is good as new, in fact,” Peggy said, rising to her feet.
Tony’s eyes lit up. “Really? So we don’t have to tell dad? Please, please don’t tell dad.”
She shook her head and held out her pinky finger. “No one’s telling Howard. Promise.”
He locked fingers with her before turning to Steve. “And you’re not mad at me? I can still come over?”
“Of course not,” Steve said, slipping his pant leg back down. “You know your aunt and I will let you come over any time you want to.”
“Or at least any time Mr. Jarvis can be convinced to bring you,” Peggy added, laughing at the sound of disgust Tony made with a light stomp of his foot. Such drama from a nine-year-old that didn’t at all remind her of his father.
“But I think we have to call it quits on baseball for the day.” Steve motioned for Tony to come closer. “Your auntie said I can’t play anymore,” he whispered, pressing a finger to his lips to seal the ‘secret.’
“She’s no fun,” Tony whispered—as much as a child does—back. Steve pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head in agreement. He quickly shot her a grin.
She’d remember that later.
“Well, excuse me, you two.” She scoffed in mock exasperation. Peggy crossed her arms against her chest and gestured with her hand toward the front door. “Go on, then. The both of you. But don’t come running to me when someone else scrapes a knee. Or worse.”
“Or... I have a better idea. Why don’t we go work on some things in the garage and leave auntie alone for a while?”
Tony hardly glanced between them before yelling, “Okay!” and taking off toward the back door.
Alone again, Peggy raised an eyebrow at Steve. “No fun, am I?”
“Aw, c’mon. That was only a joke.”
“Uh-huh! We’ll see just how not fun I can be, Mr. Rogers.”
She turned to walk away, picking up the pace to a jog when Steve chased after her. Laughter bubbled between them as they raced around the dining room table. He switched directions on her at the last moment and swooped her into his arms. It took her a moment to catch her breath, but then she was melting into his kiss with his arms locked around her waist. She reached up to hold his face in her hands when they broke apart. Gently, she brushed the backs of her fingers against his cheek.
“You know,” she began, clearing her throat. “You’re still quite fast for a man your age.”
Steve clicked his tongue and huffed, making her laugh again. “You know what? I can be very slow when the situation calls for it.”
“Oh, don’t I know,” she said, biting softly into her lip. The redness that rose to her husband’s cheeks amused her nearly as much as her actual teasing. “Too bad I’m no fun, or we may have tested that later.”
“Ugh!” Steve squeezed her until she made a small squeak. “Suit yourself, then, Ms. Carter!”
Peggy knitted her eyebrows together and scoffed. “That’s Mrs. Carter-Rogers to you,” she declared, tapping a finger against his chin. “And don’t you forget it.”
“I could never forget that.”