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“Rogers!” Phillips’ rough bark startles Peggy, maybe even more than usual as she nearly tumbles to the ground, slowed only by her throwing her arm out and Steve’s clumsy attempts to hold her close.
Steve swears under his breath and Peggy knows even without looking up that he’s reaching out to help her up. It only makes her work of pushing to her feet harder. “I’m fine,” she insists, standing straight. Peggy looks at Phillips instead of Steve. “Again, I assume?”
He’s a grouchy old man and Peggy knows that he has the ear of the company’s director, Alexander Pierce. The last thing Peggy wants is to piss him off, and two professionals failing their fish dives so spectacularly? Very likely to piss him off.
He purses his lips then stalks to the studio door, calling for Maria Hill. “Take a look at the this,” he orders. “From the top.”
Peggy doesn’t look at Steve at all as they get back into position. She’s forced to, of course, when they greet each other in the dance, but Peggy hardly sees him for her focus.
This should all be such a dream. Dancing Aurora is a dream come true for just about every ballerina. It’s a principal-making role. But the part is a marathon—wildly technical and highly demanding, and just a bit out of her comfort zone—and Peggy can’t help feeling a bit overwhelmed by the pressure. That she and Steve don’t seem to be on the same page only makes it worse.
Maria watches them with a clearly critical eye. Steve, for his part, doesn’t drop her this time, but instead overcompensates so Peggy can’t center her weight appropriately, aborting the dive and forcing her into an awkward penché instead.
Hill scowls. “You’re not trusting each other,” she pronounces, which, frankly, is something Peggy already knew. “Rogers, you’re not feeling her weight and letting it guide you. You’re fighting it.” Peggy notices Steve’s brow furrow just slight; he probably knew that too. Then Hill turns her eye on Peggy. “Carter, you’re not committing. He can’t catch you if you’re not going to fall.”
Peggy’s immediate response is to argue that her hesitancy is a perfectly reasonable response to her partner dumping her onto the floor, though she bites her tongue. Even now as a professional dancer, the critique can be hard. Hill only wants what’s best. For the dance, for the company, and for the dancers. Aurora flopping to the ground like a dead fish is in no one’s best interest.
Hill crosses her arms and commands, “Again.”
By the time rehearsal is over, Peggy’s legs are dead. She stretches, giving her muscles time to recover before making the trek home, when she feels a presence at her back. “What do you want, Angie?” sighs Peggy. She’s not particularly in the mood for Angie’s loquacious enthusiasm.
The other woman plops down at Peggy’s side, handing her a resistance band. “Okay, what is going on with you and Steve?”
“I don’t know.”
Blue eyes narrow suspiciously. “Has anyone told you you’re a terrible liar, English?”
“No.”
“You’re a terrible liar, English.”
Peggy is quiet for a moment, breathing into her stretch before facing her friend. “I’m not lying,” she insists. “I don’t know what’s going on. It’s just… he’s been off.”
“Off?’
Peggy switches to a foam roller. “It’s odd. Just all of a sudden, it’s like he’s not all there. I mean—he’s there, it’s just like his mind is 100 miles away. Not just here.”
Angie frowns. “What’s that mean?”
“Angie.”
“I know, I know,” the other woman sighs. Angie stands, holding up her hands. “Too nosy. You and your British sensibilities.”
Peggy purses her lips. “It’s not that. It’s just I don’t even know.” She stands too, pulling sweatpants over her tights.
“Have you asked?”
The look on Peggy’s face very clearly says no. Angie loops her arm through Peggy’s. “Well, come on. Let’s go get some food.”
Peggy flips on the light in her apartment. Before she even takes off her shoes, she’s got music playing. Dinner with Angie had been a wonderful distraction—Peggy still has questions about the logistics of one of the Martinelli boys somehow finding himself on a date with a distant cousin—but the fun only underlines the quiet of her apartment.
In the year and change since they first danced Sugar Plum and Cavalier, nights without Steve have been increasingly rare. Well, they were until the last few weeks. If she’s perfectly honest, Peggy enjoyed the first few nights when Steve had pressed a kiss to her lips after rehearsal and dinner, then hopped on the subway home. Not because she was tired of him or didn’t want him around, but she’d been able to catch up on all her trashy reality television that Steve swore up and down he hated (though he’d had some very strong opinions about last season’s Bachelor).
Now though, she’s beginning to resent the stillness. Even when he’s perfectly relaxed, Steve’s presence fills the room. He’s always moving, sketching or fidgeting, while they sit together. And she’s becoming tired of waking to a lonely bed instead of his rumpled smile and warm arms wrapped around her.
Peggy’s phone buzzes as she pours herself a small glass of wine. She takes a sip before checking the notification.
Bucky Barnes: What is going on with you and Steve???
Peggy Carter: what did Angie tell you
Bucky Barnes: I don’t need Angie to tell me anything. I’ve got eyes, Carter.
Peggy Carter: why don’t you ask him?
Bucky Barnes: You know, you two stubborn assholes deserve each other
Peggy Carter: oh fuck off
Bucky’s texts don’t upset her—they’ve spent enough time together that she’s familiar and fond of him and his protectiveness for Steve— but she can’t help the deep frown on her face. As far as she knew, they hadn’t been having relationship issues. Well, at least not until they’d started rehearsing Sleeping Beauty.
Suddenly Peggy doesn’t feel much like wine.
This time they manage the fish dives, though Peggy doesn’t think they’ve ever been so wobbly, even when first dancing together. Steve’s face, for all it opens while they dance, snaps back into grim stone during corrections. It’s unlike him. So much so that Peggy begins to let go of the annoyance and anger, switching over into worry.
She’s gotten changed after rehearsal when she sees Steve leaving Hill’s office. Peggy all but runs to catch up to him, putting her hand on his arm. “Is everything alright?” she asks.
There’s a bit of comfort in the fact that his shoulders relax as he looks at her. “Yeah,” he replies, but it’s not convincing. “Yeah.”
Peggy wants to interrogate him, find out just what has been happening, but she also knows likely he’ll shut down. Instead, she gives him a small smile, commenting, “You look tired.”
“Haven’t been sleeping great,” admits Steve. “Peggy-”
There’s a look on his face and suddenly Peggy is seized with panic that the next words out of his mouth are going to have to do with a break. “Steve,” she starts to say, but he beats her to it.
“I just- sorry. I’m sorry, I know I’ve been distracted. And just… not partnering right. You deserve more. Especially with Aurora.”
“It’s alright,” she assures him quickly, hand on his wrist. “I just want to know that you’re okay. That’s all I care about.”
He nods, his lips pressed into a thin line. Peggy looks around and sees they’re alone. She’s not usually one for any public displays of affection, especially at work, but this one she feels is pretty necessary. Stepping close, she kisses the corner of his mouth, smiling up at him.
“I’m okay,” he promises, looking a little surprised and smitten.
“Does that mean you’ll come over tonight?” Steve opens his mouth to answer and before he does, Peggy lifts an eyebrow. “I’m getting pretty lonely, you know. And it’s no fun anymore to watch The Bachelor without your color commentary.”
He chuckles, grabs her hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “Tomorrow. I promise. I have to do a thing tonight.”
“Steve.”
“I know. I know. I promise I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, okay? I just... it’s something I need to do alone.”
Peggy nods, unsure if she understands but not quite willing to say so. “You’re sure everything is alright?”
He leans in and kisses her cheek. “I promise.”
She spends the night with a glass of wine and sewing her point shoes. She’s not sure it helps distract her but at least it’s productive. And at the end of the night, she gets a goodnight text from Steve, which is more than she can say for the last week.
Morning comes quickly and Peggy finds she’s quicker than usual to get out of bed and get ready for work. For the first time in a while, she feels excited to dance, excited to get into class. She practically flies into the studio, her feet barely touching the ground. She beats Steve to class; usually an oddity, though it’s been run of the mill the past few weeks.
But finally, finally, he arrives, smiling shyly when their eyes meet. Peggy smiles back, heart fluttering in the time it takes him to walk over. She keeps stretching, if only to keep her body busy as he crosses the room.
She smiles up at him, feigning a casualness that she can’t quite feel.
“Hi.” At the very least, she feels a little better to feel that Steve is just as nervous as she is. Which is patently ridiculous—save the past few weeks, their relationship has been nothing but wonderful and there’s no reason that shouldn’t continue. Still, she feels nervous looking at him.
“Hey. Help you stretch?”
Peggy smiles and nods, giving him her foot. For the first time in weeks, the silence is comfortable, companionable, instead of strained.
After a moment, Steve looks up. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
Her brow lifts before she can school her face back into a more neutral expression. “Oh? What for?”
“I’ve been distracted and I haven’t been treating you great. You deserve more than that from me. So I’m sorry.”
His apology is accompanied by a little shrug of his shoulders, as if to say it’s so obvious she shouldn’t need to ask. And that is even more surprising than the apology itself. Her past boyfriends would make such a big deal of their apology, as if she should be grateful they were apologizing. Steve’s simple admission of wrongdoing is wildly refreshing. And even though she’s usually staunchly committed to remaining professional at work, Peggy can’t help but lean forward and press her lips to his cheek. “Thank you.”
Steve beams. “Still good for tonight?” he asks.
“If you aren’t cuddling me on the couch, watching trash television tonight, I will, I’m afraid be forced to take rather drastic action.”
“Noted,” says Steve with a nod and a grin.
Ana walks in and class begins soon after, but Peggy sneaks a couple more smiles his way at the barre, when Ana isn’t watching.
They aren’t rehearsing the wedding pas today, but still, just having a fully present Steve at rehearsal makes all the difference in the world. Peggy realized how much tension she’s been holding in her body between worrying about him and worrying about the ballet. Even just with the tiniest bit of comfort in her mind, her dancing feels more fluid, her mind more present.
Rehearsal done, Peggy’s quick to finish her stretches and get herself into sweats to walk home. This morning she’d thought about bringing nicer clothing, as though Steve would care, though she ultimately decided against it. It’s not as though Steve isn’t intimately familiar with the athletic gear she tends to favor.
He joins her in the lobby, and Peggy feels her heart flutter nervously, almost like the moment she’d seen him in the doorway of her dressing room Christmas Eve. “Do you mind if I just come with you now?” he asks. “Or do you want me to come over later?”
And oh, how she appreciates the thoughtfulness, the consideration that she might not feel quite ready to welcome him back into her space just yet, though she’s been completely transparent with her desire that she is.
“It doesn’t make sense for you to go home first. Come home with me,” she replies and watches that beautiful grin light up his face again as he twines their fingers together.
They walk hand in hand to the subway, Peggy inching closer each block, her reasons twofold. She’s desperate to get close to him after the absence of such luxury for so long, but also there is still a chill in the early spring air, and Steve puts off heat like a furnace. By the time they reach the subway, he’s got his arm around her, and on the platform, she’s turned, cold nose tucked into his neck as he runs his hand up and down her spine.
There’s still so many questions that Peggy wants answered, but she figures they have time. The conversation isn’t stilted, but it certainly isn’t deep as they decide to order Chinese food in and she pours them a glass of wine. He offers his glass up to clink in cheers.
She smiles at him, but can’t help feeling a bit antsy. There’s a part of her that wants so desperately to just ask him why. Why he’s been so far from her lately, why the sudden change in the status quo. But she still feels wary to ask, unsure of her footing in a way that he’s never made her before, though the several apologies go a long way towards making her comfortable again.
It’s as though he can read her mind, because he takes a sip of his glass and pulls her towards the couch. “I suppose I owe you an explanation, huh?”
“I’d certainly appreciate it,” she agrees.
He sighs. Not a sigh of annoyance or anything like that; she gets the sense more that he’s gathering his thoughts. His thumb trails along her arm. She waits; Steve is often slow to speak, carefully considering each economical word, and asking him to move quicker than he wants never helps.
“My mom died around this time.”
“Steve...” It suddenly feels almost too intimate, and she wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to tell her, but he shakes his head.
“It’s not that—well, it’s a little bit that—but. She had a storage unit. I kept paying for it. But it was finally time and I’ve been going through it. I don’t know why I felt like I had to do it alone.”
“You didn’t,” she says quietly.
“I know. But it just felt like I owed it to her. I wasn’t sure what I was going to find and I just... I wanted that time with her. I should have told you I was going, but I just... it was a lot.”
Peggy is quiet for a long moment, turning over her thoughts in her head before she speaks. “I wish you’d told me.”
“I should have. I’m sorry.”
She turns, linking their fingers together. “I just wish I could have been there for you. Was it terribly hard?”
Steve swipes his hand through his hair, something she’s noticed he does when nervous or overwhelmed. “It wasn’t easy,” he admits. Peggy is still quiet, watching him since it feels like he’s not quite finished. “But it was worth it.”
“I’m glad,” she says. “In the future though? Just a small heads up would be welcome. Some of us in the relationship were worried a breakup was imminent.”
He leans in and brushes a soft kiss against her cheekbone. “I promise.”
The air feels lighter around them, entirely different from the past month. She gives into impulse and pulls his arms around her, snuggling deeper into his hold.
They’re quiet for a long time. Peggy nearly nods off. She feels Steve shift, his lips pressed to her hair. “Peg?” he whispers, confirming she’s awake.
“Mmhmm?”
“I’m really lucky I’ve got you.”
“Mm, me too,” she says. Half asleep as she is, she wants to drift off again but feels that he isn’t quite done yet. “Is there something else?”
Peggy senses a hesitation but he simply pulls her tighter against him. “Let’s go to bed, huh?”
“If you insist,” she hums and laughs when he scoops her into his arms.
It’s almost embarrassing the effect the night has on their dancing. Rehearsal the next day goes smoothly enough that even crotchety Phillips gives them a nod of praise. They’re back to what makes them successful partners in the first place—dancing with Steve feels like dancing with herself. They seem to anticipate each other in a way that has always felt somewhat confusing and exhilarating. He knows exactly where she will be and she can count on him to be there.
Peggy’s running to grab a coffee when she feels a presence at her back. She turns. “Bucky,” she greets the other man, allowing him to fall into step with her.
“Looks like you and Steve got some stuff figured out.” She’s always appreciated that Steve’s friend doesn’t beat around the bush.
“Yes, I think so,” she hums.
“Well, good, I’m glad.” Bucky nods, his strides keeping pace with her. She suspects there’s more to it but doesn’t press.
“How’s Natasha?” Peggy asks and grins as she watches his cheeks grow red. She knows the corps dancer had caught his eye, an admirable feat for the consummate ladies man, and they had been spending more and more time together.
“Don’t feel like asking her?” he retorts and Peggy’s grin grows wider as he mutters, “Steve needs to get better at keeping his mouth shut.”
“Steve and I don’t keep secrets,” Peggy responds primly. Bucky looks like he’s about to say something but thinks better of it, going quiet. Peggy frowns. He doesn’t say anything more, instead rushing ahead and buying her coffee before she can say anything.
She lets it go, but files away the reaction anyway.
Falling back into step with Steve is easy. It’s obvious he’d been just as unhappy with their time apart as she has. It seems like he doesn’t want to spend more than three minutes away from her and quite frankly, she doesn’t mind. Not when he’s back to holding her every morning.
Their rehearsals pass quickly, no longer exercises in frustration. The dance begins to take shape and work its way into their bones. There’s nothing like it.
The rest of the ballet is a marathon for Peggy, grueling simply in the amount of time she spends on the stage, not to mention the demanding choreography. But dancing with Steve always brings joy and levity, even when she’s tired. Going home with him is just the icing on the cake. He runs her baths, sets up ice water plunges, helps her stretch. She returns the favor as best she can, but quite frankly he’s always puts her to shame when it comes to anticipating needs.
The only difficulty she finds is that she finds herself suddenly unsure of him in a way she perhaps wasn’t before. She finds herself checking for him more often, to be sure he’s still there, checking to be sure he’s still got a smile on his face. When she goes to cross, she visually clocks he’ll be on the right trajectory to catch her. He always is and he always does, but something in Peggy simply worries that they haven’t properly put this all to bed, even if it certainly looks like they have.
As her debut as Aurora draws ever closer, Peggy knows he knows what to expect from her. They’ve been together long enough now and he’s seen the way her world narrows down to performance and being as prepared as she can possible be. Usually she doesn’t worry about it at all, confident in his understanding, but now she catches herself thinking of Steve when really she should be thinking of the performance.
He’s nothing but supportive, back to every bit the loving, attentive boyfriend, but she knows exactly what it feels like to lose that feeling now. She wishes it didn’t breed such insecurity in her and yet here she is.
It’s one thing to dance Sugar Plum. But Aurora is the part, longer and more technical than anything she’s danced before. It’s a beast of a role, requiring a trifecta of skill, endurance, and artistry to make it all work, and the lynchpin on which the ballet turns. Peggy knows she has the strength and the technical skill, but her strengths have always lain in the power of her jumps and turns. Aurora is a slower piece, requiring more flawless technique than dazzling tricks. The job is made easier with Steve, but maybe there is the hangup. With Steve it’s easy. But she isn’t just dancing with Steve.
She hides the nerves at class and in rehearsal, keeping her face calm, placid, as they perfect the Rose Adagio, even if she’s internally terrified.
The dance is iconic, requiring her to stay en pointe as her partners switch out, completely letting go each time to bring her arm up to complete fifth. The strength is there and she can do it, but it’s hard to not look like it’s hard. And that’s without the challenge of dancing with four separate partners with four separate styles.
She’s lucky in her partners mostly. Bucky and Sam are great. Bucky is solid, assured in his movements and forever making sure she’s balanced on her legs before stepping back. Sam is faster around the stage, but with an incredible sense of geometry that makes it incredibly easy to trust he will be exactly where he needs to be when she needs him. Daniel is a technically solid dancer and she can count on him to do what needs doing, though she can’t help noticing he’s grown a bit more distant since she and Steve began dating. It’s her fourth partner where the real trouble is. Jack is a great dancer, she knows. He’s just a showboat, always looking to pull focus, oftentimes at the expense of ensuring she’s perfectly balanced or with him.
“How do you think Rose is going?” asks Peggy one night as she and Steve make their way out of the studio.
“You mean aside from the fact that Thompson’s a piece of work and always a quarter beat ahead of the music?” he asks back with a smirk.
Peggy laughs and pulls his arm around her to tuck into the warmth of his body. “Yes, aside from that.”
Steve bends to kiss her hair as they keep walking. “It’s looking great, Peg. You’re an amazing dancer. It’s actually kind of nice, you know. I actually get to watch you dance this time.”
Even though Peggy’s worked hard to ensure she has an inner sense of her abilities, it warms her through to hear it from him. Steve is wonderful onstage—powerful, graceful, with a presence that fills the room. She knows she must in some way match that energy or they wouldn’t be partnered so frequently, but it’s another thing entirely to hear it from him.
“Not worried I’ll get wooed away by one of my many suitors, hm?” she teases. “There’s four, you know.”
She doesn’t need to look up at him to know he’s smiling. “Somehow I feel pretty confident we end up together in the end,” he replies. “Had a dream about it and everything.”
“Must be nice, being so confident.”
The words slip out without meaning t. She’d meant to sound teasing, light and airy, but instead she gives voice to her insecurities. And she knows he’s too observant to miss it.
He doesn’t stop walking, but his hand slides down her arm so he can twine their fingers together. “I know what I’ve known since the first time we met, Peg. You’re it for me. Dancing, life. This is it. I can do it without you, but I don’t want to. It’s silly to doubt it when you’ve found the right partner.”
Of course she’d realized how serious they were. They were practically living together by now. But hearing it put so plainly is new. She turns and she does stop walking so she can tilt onto her toes and kiss him softly. “Partners, huh?”
“As long as you’ll have me,” he replies, arms around her waist as he pulls her tight.
The day before her debut, Peggy is called into the office between rehearsals. Her stomach flips; it’s either a very good or very bad thing to be called in like this. Steve squeezes her shoulder as she pulls on her shoes. The walk isn’t long, but it feels endless, like she’s been called to the principal’s office.
Upon arrival, she’s surprised to find not just Pierce, but Phillips and Ana Jarvis there too. She’s glad for Ana’s smiling presence, not just the two stone faced older men. But even Phillips has the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his downturned lips.
“Carter, sit down.” Phillips motions to a chair. Peggy sits, watching the trio warily. She has a feeling she knows the way this conversation is going to go, but it doesn’t make it any less intimidating to sit in front of what amounts to the three people with her career in their hands. She straightens her spine as she sits, doing her best to remain composed.
“How are you finding dancing Aurora?” Ana asks, her Hungarian accent as warm and inviting as her gaze is piercing.
“It’s a dream,” Peggy replies honestly. “I’m so honored to have been cast.”
“Well, perhaps you should prepare for it to become a bit more de rigeur, Miss Carter,” she says and Peggy’s heart pounds in her chest.
“Now, it’s not exciting but I’m afraid we’ll need to look at your contract.” Alexander Pierce slides a stack of papers across the table. “Take a look at this, why don’t you?” he suggests. Peggy reaches out to take them.
“This isn’t my contract,” she says.
“Not yet it’s not,” Phillips replies gruffly. “Congratulations on moving up to the big leagues, Carter.”
“Miss Underwood has expressed an interest in retiring at the end of the season,” Pierce says. “We’ll need a new principal ballerina. We’d like it to be you and we’d like to announce it Opening Night.”
She’d known it was likely this conversation when she was called in, but even knowing doesn’t change the way her heart leaps.
“What say you, Miss Carter?” asks Ana, eyes sparkling.
“Of course!”
Peggy’s running down the hallway. At least she is for about ten seconds until she runs directly into the brick wall that is her boyfriend. Steve’s hands go to her waist, steadying her. “All good?” He asks.
“Only bloody brilliant,” she responds, grinning up at him. “You’re looking at the next principal dancer.”
“Peggy, that’s amazing!” he exclaims and wraps her up in the biggest hug. “We have to celebrate. I’m so proud of you!”
By the end of the day, Steve’s arranged a dinner at her favorite restaurant. Bucky and Angie have agreed to come. Word spreads through the company and Peggy doesn’t think she’s ever been congratulated so many times, even at her ballet school when she’d first gotten her first offer. Even Dottie comes up to wish her well.
Sam squeezes her shoulder at the end of rehearsal. “So when’s the rager?” He teases. “I know you’re doing the whole classy dinner thing tonight but when are we cutting loose and really celebrating? Come on, Carter, you can’t leave us out in the cold!”
Peggy laughs. “I’ll talk to Steve about it and I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”
The strange thing, she realizes, is that she means it. There’s a responsibility that comes from being highly ranked within the company, as younger dancers look to you to set the tone. When Peggy had first started with the company, Colleen O’Brien had been principal and the warmth she’d brought to each rehearsal had laid the groundwork for so many of Peggy’s own friendships. She’d heard horror stories of principals whose own attitudes and behaviors had bred companies full of cutthroat competition. She didn’t take the responsibility lightly.
“Seriously, Carter, no one more deserving,” he says genuinely. Peggy’s always liked Sam.
Dinner is everything she wanted, full of laughter and good food. They stay out far too late for a group of people who have to make it to class in the morning, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. She’s a little wine drunk (thanks to a very liberally pouring Angie) and the world feels bright and wide as she looks around at the little group she calls her troupe.
Steve’s arm is comfortingly heavy around her shoulders and he must sense the wild swing of sentimentality, because he dips his head and kisses the crown of hers. She’s never loved anyone more.
They crash home, giggly and caught up in each other, kiss after kiss greedily stolen between laughter and she feels the world just… click. This is it. This is hers. And she can do anything with him there to cheer her on.
“God, I love you,” she breathes and watches the tips of his ears turn bright red as he grins up at her, his chin resting on her shoulder.
“Yeah?”
There’s an impulse to tease, to temper the sentimentality with humor, but instead she finds a lump in her throat as she meets his eye and nods. “Yeah.”
“I love you too.” HIs words tumble out all in a rush, like he’s been holding them back and the dam has finally broken. “More than I think I’ll ever be able to say.”
She pulls him up for a searing kiss. “You know I’m not one for big speeches anyway.”
And if they’re both a little bleary and besotted at class the next morning, no one mentions it.
Time, of course, does not slow. In fact, it feels like Peggy blinks and suddenly it’s the big day. She takes it slow in the morning, taking her time to enjoy a cup of coffee and a big enough breakfast to keep herself from being anxious. Steve is, as ever, infuriatingly calm. He insists he’s just as nervous every time they dance, but as far as Peggy can tell, he’s got no tells.
They ride the subway and walk the rest of the way to the theater as they always do. He keeps his hand at the small of her back the whole time and Peggy can’t help but appreciate the grounding.
Performing is old hat and her great love, but it doesn’t mean it comes without nerves. They attend class, get muscles warmed up and limber, before they’re excused to begin getting ready.
In the dressing rooms, she’s so grateful to Angie’s constant stream of nattering on as they work on hair and makeup— she went out Saturday night and met a surprisingly un-boring lawyer named Carol, which would be the most exciting part of the story, only then she saw Bucky and Natasha get into the same cab together and heard them give only one address, so obviously they need to dissect what that’s about and really she and Steve should come out every now and again or risk becoming the boring old, married couple, yes you can be an old, married couple without being married. Peggy’s laughing hard enough that her hand is unsteady enough she nearly has to redo her lipstick.
Angie helps affix her tiara to her head once her hair is properly in its twist. It’s not that Peggy can’t, but it’s so much easier to have help. Angie catches her eye and grins. “Dang, English, you’re going to give Steve a heart attack,” she says. “Kitted up like that and dancing like you do? Everyone’s going to fall in love with you.”
Peggy laughs and shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love me for it,” Angie retorts. Peggy does have to acquiesce.
The music swells, the curtain lifts and it’s time. Peggy can’t help but hide in the wings, watching the prologue from the side.
Natasha has Bucky’s full attention she notices; though still in the corps, she’s been cast as the Fairy of the Golden Vine and she manages to somehow make the somewhat notoriously goofy pointer fingers look as she suspects they were always meant to- alive, full of electricity and grace. Dottie is, of course, flawless as the Lilac Fairy. And then there’s Angie. Angie is enthralling as the wicked fairy Carabosse. Character work has always been her strength and Peggy can’t believe the same bubbly girl who talks only in run on sentences is the tall, fearsome woman clad in black robs, dashing about the stage menacingly. It feels even more a trick when she exits the stage and immediately pulls a funny face at Peggy.
Peggy always loved performing more than anything, and this is no exception, even with nerves causing butterflies to flutter in her stomach as the music swells on her entrance.
The Rose Adagio goes well; a few stumbles but nothing she can’t recover from and certainly nothing the audience would notice. She gets her legs under her and each suitor whispers encouragement as they dance- even Jack. Her balances go off without a hitch, only a slight hesitation in the arms on the last one, but Sam is quick to notice and readjust. The audience reaction is well worth the hard work.
As she pricks her finger and collapses to the ground at Angie’s feet, she hears a gasp from a child in the front row, so clearly enthralled in the story; she’s glad to have her face turned from the audience so she doesn’t have to hide her own smile.
And then there’s Steve. She watches his entrance rapt from the wings. Steve is… well, she always finds him entirely too attractive, but there is nothing like watching him dance. She schools her face into placid, dreamlike calm as she appears to his Prince in his vision. Even with choreography that emphasizes their apartness, she is so very drawn to him. And how lucky she is to feel his subtle squeeze of her waist when they finally touch, to hear the murmured, “You’re killing it,” in her ear. Her breath catches when she meets his gaze; the depth of pride and love shining there nearly causes her to blush. She tries to channel it into the performance, to allow it to drive the moment he begins to pursue her in the vision, and finally offstage.
“You’re beautiful,” he blurts and oh, how she’d kiss him if she couldn’t ruin her makeup.
“I love you,” she finds herself blurting back and is gratified to see even in the dark of the wings she can see the tips of his ears turn red. He’s due back onstage before he can say anything else and ballet careens towards its closing act.
She isn’t able to watch Angie’s last shining moment as the villain confronted by Steve and Dottie, busy running behind the curtain to lie down on the bed and prepare to be awakened. She holds perfectly still, not even breathing as Steve bends over her, terrified she’ll break and grin before the moment of awakening.
She has to assume that most Sleeping Beauties aren’t actually kissed by their prince, but Steve’s lips brush against hers and for just a moment, she is a fairytale character, brought back to life by her one true love. She springs up, running to greet her mother and father, then the Lilac Fairy before she and her prince greet each other officially for the very first time and the music soars. He escorts her offstage but there’s no time to talk as they get back to change into their next costumes as onstage, the soloists perform as various fairytale characters.
By the time it’s time for the wedding pas de deux, she’s had to switch out her shoes and her legs are starting to shake, but the end is in sight and how could she possibly be anything but on cloud nine with Steve cheering her on, whispering encouragement the whole time. And their fish dives are flawless, the applause nearly thunderous as Steve supports her with only one arm, no more uncertainty in his grasp.
Her legs are wobbly by curtain call, but the audience stands as Steve escorts her downstage and steps back to let her take her bow. Peggy finds herself more emotional than she thought, eyes filling with tears as she lowers her head and curtsies deeply.
It only gets worse as she looks up to see not only Ana Jarvis and Alexander Pierce come onstage, microphone in hands, but Steve grinning behind them with a giant bouquet of roses in his.
Pierce motions for the audience to sit and waits as they do before beginning, “Peggy Carter, folks. Isn’t she spectacular?”
Peggy can only bow her head and blush at the second round of applause.
“I have known Miss Carter for a very long time,” Ana continues. “First as a student in our school and then as an excellent addition to our company. Her artistry has always been quite apparent to everyone, but only those in our company know how generous and kind she is.”
Peggy thinks she might set on fire spontaneously and just concentrates on keeping a smile on her face that isn’t entirely un-photogenic.
“We’ve been lucky enough to have Miss Carter in our company for this long and we’d like to keep it that way,” says Pierce. “That is why it’s my great pleasure to announce our latest principal dancer— Peggy Carter!”
If she thought the applause was loud before, it’s thunderous now. Steve steps forward, kissing her cheek and presenting her the bouquet. And she has to admit a tear slips down her face as she grins and acknowledges everyone.
A microphone is shoved into her hand and she turns out, taking a deep breath. She’d known this was coming but had only sort of thought to prepare any sort of speech. “Thank you to everyone; to Alexander and Ana, to everyone here at Shield for being such a warm and inviting place to dance. I’ve had some of the best times of my life here and gotten to meet some of the most amazing people in the world. I’m so thankful to everyone for this; I’ve learned from the absolute best.” She turns and smiles at the company, winking at Angie and giving Dottie a nod. Even if Dottie isn’t the warmest person, she’s also given Peggy a pointer or two throughout the years.
She takes a deep breath and turns to Steve, where she feels herself wobble. “And, of course, I’d be remiss to forget mentioning that dancing here has meant getting to dance with the best partner in the world. Thank you, Steve. You truly are my right partner. I couldn’t do any of this this without you.”
Well, at least his eyes aren’t dry either now.
The rest of the night passes in a blur; she’s congratulated a thousand times over, by press, by patrons, and most heartwarmingly by a shy little girl in a pink tutu, who tells her, “I dance too! Just like you!”
It’s some time and rather late before she finally manages to make it back to her dressing room to gather her things and go home. Steve disappeared at some point, she assumes to start at least gathering their things.
She assumed wrong.
Once again, he’s standing in her dressing room. Once he’d filled it with Christmas lights and decorations. Today, he’s filled it with a thousand different flowers, an explosion of color. For the millionth time that night, her eyes fill with tears.
“Steve,” she gasps.
“Oh, hey!” he greets her, as if it’s any other day, but his eyes sparkle with glee. “Ready to go?”
“Steve Rogers!”
“That’s my name, they tell me.”
“Steve. This is… how…”
His humor breaks and he stops teasing, coming to stand with her. “I wanted to do something as special as you are, Peg.”
She doesn’t get a chance to respond because he’s suddenly fumbling in his pocket for something and she feels her breath catch.
“Look, when I said I was clearing out my mom’s storage, that wasn’t entirely true…” he says and pulls out a ring box. Peggy’s eyes widen. “I was looking for this. It’s not… I mean, I don’t… It’s still early, I know. And I’m not…”
She lifts a brow but he snaps open the box to reveal a claddagh ring with a small ruby in the heart.
“This was my mom’s and I know she’d want you to have it,” he explains. “As a promise. I know it’s early and I know it’s not time yet, but I know you’re my right partner, Peggy, and I’d love if you’d wear it maybe?”
She surges forward and kisses him like she’s wanted to all night. “Of course,” she says and her heart flutters seeing his fingers shake a little as he puts it on her. “And Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“When you do get around to it…. Consider this a promise for a yes, will you?”
He grins and god, she wants to make him smile like this forever. Hopefully one day she will.
For now, he slides the ring onto her finger; she pulls on her street clothes and shoes and they leave the theater, arm in arm.
The next day, she gets more questions about the ring than the promotion— which to be fair, the company has known about.
And in her dressing room, there’s a copy of New York’s Magazine’s review glowing of the ballet, with a specific section highlighted.
Peggy Carter— rising star and the company's newest principle dancer-- glows as Aurora. If there was a chink in her technique's armor last night, I couldn't spot it. And that’s to say nothing of the warmth and depth she manages to bring to a notoriously difficult role. A prince fell in love with Peggy Carter last night, and so, I daresay, did the audience.
But perhaps one of Shield's greatest strengths lies in the genius decision to once again pair Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter. Their onstage chemistry is only matched by the way their individual technique meshes, almost as though they can read each other’s mind. When they are dancing together, it doesn’t matter if the entire company is onstage with them, you simply cannot take your eyes off them I can only hope we'll be treated to many, many more performances from what is shaping up to be a powerhouse couple in the ballet world. In a small speech after the show, Miss Carter thanked Mr. Rogers for being her right partner, and I think we'd all be hard-pressed to disagree.