Work Text:
The Right Partner
Peggy lingered in her car, deliberately taking slow, deep breaths in an attempt to quell her lingering temper, the frustration eating at her. Controlling her breathing usually helped but today, perhaps because she had been simmering with annoyance all day without any outlet for it, it was proving less than effective. She blew out a breath and then made a sound like a growl and forcefully punched the passenger seat of the car.
She ought to be used to being dismissed and ignored by men by now–certainly she had experienced it all her life–and in a way, she was accustomed to it, but being accustomed to it did not mean she was inured to it. Bloody men! Why were they all so uniformly arrogant? Why was it so difficult for men to understand that women had brains and determination and could be useful?
Her eyes found the ring on her finger and as usual, she felt a little flicker of warmth inside her, the visible reminder that one man, at least, had always treated her with respect, always admired her cleverness and her courage. Her Steve, her husband.
On the thought, she finally pushed open the door of the car and slid out of it, although she couldn’t quite keep herself from closing the car door with unnecessary force. She hurried up the steps to the front door of her home, unlocking the door and slipping inside. She was still frustrated enough that she was tempted to hurl her purse across the room but that would have been a step too far for her although she did toss it down without any of her usual care as she toed off her shoes. “Damn bloody patronizing man!” she grumbled.
“Peg, is that you?” Steve’s voice came from upstairs, a little indistinctly. He sounded tired but that wasn’t unusual these days. Neither she nor Steve had really known how incredibly tiring it was to look after a baby and Steve, of course, took care of Sarah the most since Peggy had to work. Steve had joked that he thought Dr. Erskine might have done more good if he had decided to market his serum, in smaller doses, to give parents of young babies additional strength to help them care for their babies. As much as they both loved their daughter, neither of them could deny that caring for her was exhausting. Peggy sometimes thought that it was easier for her being able to go to work while Steve stayed home with Sarah all day. As it was, she had found that it was a strain for her to be away from her baby so much. It didn’t change her decision to return to work–she knew herself too well to believe that she could ever be content to simply stay at home with her child–but it was still difficult to leave Sarah and she found herself fretting over Sarah when she was at work too, notwithstanding how much she trusted Steve. Not for the first time, she thought that she could never have imagined having a life like this, a life in which she was not only a wife and mother but still working as an Agent of the SSR, but then Steve had returned to her, her private miracle, as she thought of it, and it seemed that he made everything possible.
Her lips curved and she realized that some of the tight knot of irritation inside her had loosened just at the sound of his voice, the reminder of his presence. “Who else would it be?”
She heard his steps and moved down the hallway so she could see him, blinking as she took in his appearance because he looked almost disreputable. He was dressed in jeans and one of his casual shirts but the shirt was stained with what she guessed was some combination of spit-up and other portions of Sarah’s meals, but what she noticed more was that his hair was disheveled and his face unshaven with stubble, several shades darker than his hair, covering his jaw. “Goodness, darling, you look as if you’ve had quite a day. Where’s Sarah?”
He grimaced and ran a hand down his jaw. “She’s sleeping, finally. I know I look like a mess. I didn’t have time to shave today and lunch was something of an adventure.” He bent and gave her a quick kiss. “Hi. Sarah’s been fussing and fretting all afternoon. She simply refused to take a nap after her last feeding, and every time I even tried to lay her down, she started to cry. I’ve been pacing up and down with her for hours until finally, she dropped off around 15 minutes ago and I was able to put her down. I sat down to catch my breath a little and almost drifted off.”
She lifted a hand to touch his jaw, running her fingers along the stubble. “This unshaven look is quite a change. You always made a point of being clean-shaven even at the height of the war.”
He made a small face. “I figured Captain America had to maintain a certain image and it was also a small bit of normalcy, the routine of shaving, that I appreciated.” He paused, his eyes widening in sudden dismay. “Oh lord, Peggy, because of Sarah and her fretting, I haven’t even had a chance to think about dinner, let alone prepare anything. I’m sorry. I’m afraid dinner might well end up being sandwiches or something of that sort, whatever we can immediately throw together.”
She gave him a small smile, kissing his bristly chin and then wrinkling her nose a little because it felt so odd and different, as if he wasn’t her Steve. “Don’t worry about it. I seem to remember there were quite a few times during the war that our meals consisted of nothing more than rather stale bread and weak broth. After that, I hardly think having a sandwich for dinner is much of a hardship.”
“I think our standard for meals should be higher in peacetime,” he returned dryly. “But you’re right, we’ve certainly had worse meals in our time.”
She slipped her arm in his as they turned to walk towards the kitchen while he gave her a summary of his day with Sarah from the moment Peggy had left for work, the times he’d fed Sarah and what she had eaten including recounting his adventures in trying to feed Sarah mashed peas earlier that had resulted in making a mess of his shirt. It was the regular update he always gave her in the evenings, which she treasured because it made her feel more involved with Sarah’s care.
They worked together to prepare their makeshift meal, not of sandwiches as it happened but of toast with butter and jam accompanied by some salad and some fruit, before settling at the dining table with their quick meal.
“Now you’ve heard about our day,” Steve commented. “How was your day? You look as if you had a bad one. And when you arrived, I thought I heard you grumbling about something.”
Peggy felt a faint smile curve her lips. “How do you do that, read me so well?” He could always tell when she’d had a bad day. She was used to keeping her own counsel, had needed to become used to it with the sort of work she did, and she knew she wasn’t actually that easy to read. But somehow, Steve had almost from the beginning been able to read her mood and these days, almost three years after his return, he could be said to have developed a positive sixth sense for her mood. Although she supposed part of it too was that she did not try to keep any of her usual Agent Carter mask in place with him. He was the one person with whom she knew she never needed to preserve any sort of façade.
It belatedly occurred to Peggy that today was one of the first times since Sarah had arrived that they were alone for dinner and she was a little surprised how different it felt. After the irritations of her day, she could not deny that she appreciated knowing she would be able to have an uninterrupted talk with Steve about it but irrationally and inconsistently, she found herself missing their baby too. It felt oddly lonesome somehow, even though Sarah, at not quite 10 months old, could hardly count as company, notwithstanding her babbling these days. But her presence made such a difference, changed the whole atmosphere in the room, to say nothing of providing a constant distraction as either she or Steve was always holding Sarah and needing to try to eat their meals one-handed while also managing the baby. As it was, it was easier and more peaceful to eat with Sarah sleeping but Peggy still found herself thinking that she would rather have Sarah there.
He lifted one shoulder into a half-shrug. “I know you. What happened?”
Her smile faded and she grimaced. “Oh, the usual, men being their arrogant selves. The new Secretary of Defense came to visit the office today.”
Steve straightened a little in his chair. “The Secretary of Defense? Why was he visiting the SSR? The SSR doesn’t fall within the Department of Defense.”
“No, it doesn’t but Secretary Johnson is a big proponent of this unification of all the military branches under the new Defense Department’s control and the fact that the SSR, with its quasi-military experience and background, remains outside of his control is apparently something of a sore subject with him. So he decided to visit himself, I’m guessing as a sort of not-very-subtle campaign to pressure the SSR to agree to become part of the Defense Department.”
“But the SSR isn’t a purely American organization,” Steve pointed out. “It’s an Allied one and while the Allies aren’t technically in existence anymore with the end of the war, that doesn’t change the facts of the SSR.”
Peggy reflected inwardly that Steve’s years in the future had changed him in more ways than one and one of them was this, his better understanding of politics and bureaucracies and power struggles, that side of her work, than he had ever had during the war when he had been much more trusting. She was still, she knew, more cynical than Steve was, probably more cynical than he would ever be, but his years in the future had made him lose much of his faith in organizations, even the military. It pinched at her heart to think of it because she remembered how much more innocent the Steve she had first met had been and she knew how much he must have been hurt and disillusioned by what he had seen and experienced in the future to make him lose faith in organizations. He might understand her life better now but a part of her wished fiercely that he could have stayed the idealistic young man she had first met, felt absurdly as if she wanted to protect him from ever being hurt or betrayed or disillusioned by anyone ever again.
“That’s all that kept the SSR out of being absorbed into the new Department of Defense but with England and France and the other allies still struggling so much after the war, there’s no denying that right now, the SSR is primarily an American organization. I’m one of the few foreign transplants that still work at the SSR and as I was rather forcibly reminded today, I don’t have much influence or say in anything.”
Steve frowned. “What exactly happened?”
Peggy blew out a breath and made a face. “Oh, when Secretary Johnson arrived, Agent Flynn took him around and introduced him to everyone and when it was my turn, Secretary Johnson expressed his surprise that I was Agent Carter and not, as he apparently assumed, just an assistant of some kind, saying he hadn’t expected the SSR to have female agents anymore. He then paused and noted that he thought my name sounded familiar and then he remembered why, asked if I were the same Agent Carter who was ‘friends with Captain America.’” Johnson’s expression had shifted just enough before he had asked her this, the combination of pity and veiled curiosity that she had become accustomed to seeing whenever people mentioned her connection to Captain America, which had provided her with enough warning that she’d been able to school her expression.
Steve’s lips twisted into a wry little smile. “‘Friends.’ I never managed to get used to hearing you referred to as my friend in the future, even though I knew that officially, that was what you were.”
She gave him a look of mock dismay. “Didn’t you consider me to be a friend? I think I’m wounded.”
“You know perfectly well what I meant. I stopped thinking of you as just a friend a long time ago.”
She feigned innocence. “Then what did you think of me as?”
A faint smile tipped up his lips. “The right partner.”
The well-remembered words made her smile and she leaned forward and kissed him–as she had wanted to all those years ago now when she had first returned those words to him but had not done. Because now she could kiss him whenever she wanted to and some part of her could still hardly believe it was true.
She drew back and gave him another small smile. “Oh, I should mention that after I confirmed that yes, I had known you, Secretary Johnson mentioned that he had hoped to meet you once himself but wasn’t able to do so. He was at the ceremony where Senator Brandt was going to give you your medal but because you never showed up, he missed his chance.”
It was Steve’s turn to make a small face. “He’ll have to live with his disappointment. I’m still not sorry about not going to that ceremony.”
“I’m fairly sure even Senator Brandt has forgiven you for that by now,” she told him dryly. Not that she cared what Senator Brandt might think. Senator Brandt had been among the first public officials to loudly lament the death of Captain America but Peggy had quickly been infuriated at the way he had, with almost indecent haste, tried to fundraise off the wave of public mourning by emphasizing his alleged “close personal friendship” with Captain America and making it sound as if Steve had practically endorsed his campaign. Senator Brandt had invited the members of the 107th to an event ostensibly in their honor after the war’s end although it had proven to be more of a publicity stunt to build on his association with Captain America. Peggy had reluctantly gone but she had been hard-pressed to remain polite to Brandt and she had made her excuses as soon as she reasonably could and then struggled to contain her tears over Steve once she was alone because she had known how much Steve would have disliked both the lionizing peans to his memory and the way his legacy was being defined by someone like Brandt. The memory made her sober and she reached out and grasped Steve’s hand, suddenly wanting the tangible assurance that he was there, had returned to her.
She pushed the memories and the emotions out of her mind. “At any rate, after that, Secretary Johnson all but patted me on the head and told me to run off and play with my dolls because he then asked all the other Agents–the male Agents–to join him in the conference room and they all dutifully followed in his wake, leaving me out.” She huffed and made a small face. “And if that weren’t bad enough, when Secretary Johnson was leaving, he passed by my desk and bid me goodbye politely enough but as he did so, he happened to notice my ring and he expressed his surprise that my husband allowed me to work at all. I suppose I should just count myself fortunate he doesn’t know about Sarah or he might have tried to fire me on the spot because naturally, a mother should be at home with her child at all times and have no other interests,” she finished with mordant sarcasm.
Steve scoffed a little. “Little does he know. I don’t allow you to work. I couldn’t stop you from working even if I wanted to.”
“That’s not true,” Peggy corrected, sobering.
“What do you mean?”
She met his eyes. “You could stop me from working. You’re probably the only person who could.”
“Why would you say that? I could never–”
The tips of her lips just lifted in the faintest ghost of a smile, something softening inside her. “If you asked me to stop working, I would.”
His eyes widened, dismay flickering across his face, and she switched tack. “Is there anything that you wouldn’t do for me?”
His expression changed, softened. “No,” was all he said simply. But then he hardly needed to say more. He had already proven that, had literally traveled through time and space to return to her, had left behind an entire life and given up his name, an entire life as Captain America in the 21st century, to live his life with her.
“Exactly. As important as my job is to me, I care about you more.”
He released a shaky little breath, staring at her, his eyes soft and filled with so much love and something like wonder it made her throat get tight. And for a fleeting moment, it was as if she saw a sort of ghostly superimposed image of his old self when he had still only been Steve Rogers on his face, the boy she had first met, the boy who had admitted that girls had always ignored him. The thought, the memory, pinched at her heart. Because even now, knowing that she loved him, he could look so awed when she told him that she would do anything for him, just as he would do for her.
She knew that it wasn’t because he doubted her feelings for him but rather that Steve did not think in terms of power, or at least not where he was concerned. Just as he had never quite seemed to understand how much authority, how much power, his super-strength had given him over the Commandos, he didn’t think in terms of how much power he had over her because of her love for him. It would never occur to him–it clearly hadn’t occurred to him–that he had so much power over her, that he was in many ways the person who had the most power over her because she would do anything for him. She was aware of it, of how vulnerable she was to him, but she trusted him as she always had, trusted him with her life, her heart, her soul. He would never do anything to take advantage of her love for him, just as she would never do anything to take advantage of his love for her.
“Dearest,” he finally breathed, his voice not entirely steady, and then he leaned forward and kissed her, as if that was all he could do to express how he felt. Steve wasn’t, she had learned, someone who was given to using endearments or pet names or things like that, at least not with her. He was too matter-of-fact, still such a soldier, she thought with a flicker of warmth, to be inclined to use flowery language of any sort. He used endearments only when he felt much more than he felt able to say.
She lifted a hand to cup his bristly cheek as she kissed him back. “My darling,” she murmured when she drew back.
His lips tipped up faintly. “I love you.”
“I know.”
He blinked, an odd look flickering across his face, and then to her surprise, he huffed a little laugh.
“I don’t see why that should be amusing. Is there something you care to share with the class?” she asked rather tartly.
He promptly straightened his lips. “Sorry, it’s… a sort of joke from the future, a reference to a movie.”
“A good reference, I hope.” Although she could already tell that from his expression. It happened occasionally, when something she said or something that happened reminded him of something that had happened to him in the future, something he had learned in the future. Usually, the reminders made him sober and by now, he had told her enough about what had happened to him in the future that she could often guess at least to a point what the reminder had been but there were times, like now, when it was a less personal reminder. It was a little odd but in a strange way, she rather appreciated those moments. It made her feel as if it gave her a better understanding of how difficult it had been for him when he had first woken up in the future, the way he’d felt as if everyone were speaking a foreign language because he understood so little of what they said, the references they made.
His lips quirked. “Certainly not a bad one.”
She laughed softly. “Very cryptic. Do you enjoy being able to sound like a man of mystery?” she teased.
“It makes for a nice change sometimes,” he quipped. “I’m usually an open book where you’re concerned.”
A little warmth sparked in her chest because she knew it was true, knew him well enough too to know that she was the only person to whom he really was an open book. Just as he was the only person to whom she was an open book.
There was a brief silence and then he asked, “Did anything else happen during Johnson’s visit? Do you have any idea what went on in that meeting he held with the other Agents?”
She grimaced. “No. I asked a couple of the other agents afterwards–Markham, Hazelwood, Redding–the ones who are usually better about not treating me like some china doll or an idiot but even they hedged and gave me vague answers.” She paused, frowning down at the table for a moment. “Their caginess is giving me a bad feeling about all this. The Secretary of Defense doesn’t travel all the way to New York on a whim and he did make his feelings about the SSR’s continuing independence from his Department known.”
It was another private joy in her life, a sort of comfort she had never really had–being able to talk about her work. In working for the SSR, both during the war and after it, she had become so accustomed to keeping her own counsel, had needed to, as the only female agent and one who was not welcomed by the rest of the men. As much as Howard had become a friend, they were too different in personality and their views for her to view him as any sort of confidante and anyway, Howard was always so busy with Stark Industries that she went weeks without speaking to him at all. Mr. Jarvis had become her closest ally, even a friend, since Howard had first asked for her help a few years ago but there remained something of a barrier between them, due to his position as Howard’s butler, their respective jobs, and perhaps their characters. They were both too, well, British, too reticent. So in every way that really mattered, she had still been alone.
Until now, until Steve had returned. Because Steve was different. He knew enough about the SSR and the nature of the work it did to understand without much explanation and, unlike Daniel Sousa, Steve was not part of the SSR so she could speak freely to him as she’d never been able to do with Daniel even when they had been going steady. The conflict of interest, of loyalties, due to their working together had partly been why her relationship with Daniel had not lasted long.
And of course, even after all the time she and Steve had spent apart, she trusted him more than anyone else she had ever known. She trusted not just his discretion but also his character, his integrity, and his belief in her. So she could and did talk to him about her work. With him, she could share the frustration she often felt at being sidelined and underestimated by the men around her. With him, she could share her occasional doubts, worries, and vulnerabilities without fear of mockery or judgment.
Even now, it still struck her all over again when she talked to Steve about her work just how much, how painfully, she had missed him in the years she had spent mourning his loss. How deeply she had missed his support, the way she always felt safe with him. How lonely she had been without him. Oh, she knew she was strong, that she could–as she had–live without him. She had turned to his picture when she needed comfort, the sight of his face the reminder of how much he had believed in her, just as she had read and reread the letter he had left for her. They had helped but only by so much. Having him in her life made everything so much better.
“What are you thinking?”
She blinked and looked up at him. “Oh, about the SSR. It’s been protected so far from immediate changes because of its success with you but now that it’s been five years since the war ended, people’s memories are fading and the world has moved on. I’m not sure the SSR can continue to rest on its laurels as it were, at least not for much longer.”
“Mm, well, if you think that, then you’re probably right.” His gaze became a little unfocused in an expression she recognized as the way he looked when he was formulating a plan and she felt a quick little leap of her heart because it was such a familiar expression, one she had seen so often during the war but not quite as often since he had returned to her, now that he was living in peace. “What if…” he suggested slowly, “I call Colonel Phillips and talk to him? He’s in D.C., you said, and he would have the connections to start dropping hints, reminders, about how instrumental the SSR was during the war, and not only because of Captain America. And if need be, I could–”
“No,” she cut him off. “Absolutely not.”
He blinked, focusing on her in some surprise at her tone. “I only want to help.”
“I know but you can’t call Colonel Phillips.”
“I think we could trust him to know about me,” he ventured.
“No,” she repeated flatly. “I don’t trust anyone else to know about you, not even Colonel Phillips. Oh, he came to respect you and even like you as much as he liked any of the men during the war but his first loyalty is to this country and then to the military. As much as he grew to like you, he’s a military man and you know he always said that the mission trumps all. I don’t know for sure if his personal loyalty to you would outweigh what he would believe to be the greater good of the country and I’m not willing to take a chance on that. Not for the SSR, not for anything.” She had not been able to protect him, save him, once already, she thought although she did not say that aloud, and she had lived with that grief for years. Now, when she had him back, there was nothing she wouldn’t do to keep him safe, to ensure that he could live the peaceful life he wanted.
He reached out and grasped her hand in his, squeezing it. “All right. I won’t call him,” he promised.
“Remember we have to protect Sarah too.” Because now her determination to protect Steve and his true identity had another facet, the need to protect their daughter. She and Steve had not discussed it in so many words since she’d learned that she was expecting Sarah but they both understood the risks if anyone became aware that Captain America had a child, another source of his genetic code. In the year after Steve had crashed into the ice, the one thought that had made her feel rather glad that Howard had never succeeded in finding the crash site was the chilling realization she’d had that if Steve’s body were ever found, scientists, some of whom might have less than noble intentions, would be eager to study and examine him in order to try to replicate the success of Project Rebirth.
His expression changed, his jaw setting in what she thought of as his Captain America expression. “Nothing is ever going to happen to her.” It was a vow.
She felt a quick pang because she of all people knew that not even Captain America could save everyone but she also believed him too, believed in him. He had always made her feel safe. “I know. Being with you is the safest place in the world.”
Something like a wince flashed across his expression and she knew he was remembering his old friends, the ones he had lost in the last war, all the people he had not been able to save. “You still believe that, even after everything that happened, everything I told you?”
“Yes,” she told him simply.
His expression softened and he leaned over and kissed her softly.
There was a brief silence as they resumed eating and Peggy found her mind returning again to the SSR, turning her concerns about its future over in her mind. The Secretary of Defense’s visit today had been a catalyst but it wasn’t even the only concern she had, she realized, although she hadn’t stopped to put her vague misgivings into words. And in the last year and more, she had been distracted, to say the least, had been more focused on adjusting to becoming a mother than she had been thinking about any vague issues with the SSR and its mission.
She reached for a strawberry and bit into it, chewing meditatively.
“What is it? Something else is troubling you,” he observed.
She looked up at him, a little warmth flickering inside her. He could always tell. “I’m just thinking, about the SSR,” she went on slowly, rather thinking aloud now. “As important as its work is, as much as the SSR contributed during the war, I’ve been thinking that it might need to be changed. It was started during the war, part of the Allied war effort, but the war is over now and the world is changing but the SSR hasn’t really changed to reflect that.”
“No, I suppose it hasn’t.”
“The mindset in the SSR is still as a quasi-military organization, the agents almost all former soldiers, but I’m not sure that’s going to be that effective or as useful going forward.” She straightened up a little, her thoughts solidifying as she went on. “For one thing, we’re in this cold war now that’s not a traditional war with military aims and it seems likely that this cold war will continue and even escalate.”
“It will,” he confirmed quietly. He hesitated as her eyes shot up to him and then he went on rather slowly, “I don’t know much about what happened so I can’t really explain what will happen. But I do know that the cold war does continue for quite some time. You’re right that the world has changed, the nature of war changed and will continue to do so.”
She nodded slowly. It was strange to hear, and she could imagine how much more strange it was to him to know, the broad strokes of what would happen in the world in the next 70 years but as he admitted, not knowing enough about how it had happened to be able to trace the cause and effect. Seeing the end result, as it were, was generally not enough on its own to understand the process of how that result had been brought about and when it came to something as complicated as the fate of the country and the world, that was even more so.
“It’s not only that. I’ve been thinking that the SSR started with a focus on scientific research, using advances in science and technology to try to help win the war, most memorably through Dr. Erskine and Project Rebirth. But Dr. Erskine was the head of the SSR’s research division and after what happened to him, the SSR largely stopped doing any scientific research.”
His lips twisted. “I suppose that’s partly due to me. If I’d been willing to be stuck at Alamogordo as Colonel Phillips wanted, they would probably have continued.”
“Nonsense,” she responded crisply. “You made the right decision. You did far more good for the war effort as Captain America than any amount of scientific research could possibly have done and even Colonel Phillips acknowledged that.”
His expression eased and he lifted one shoulder. “I wanted to serve.”
“I know,” her voice softened. “And so you did. I don’t think anyone would deny that you were the SSR’s greatest success.”
“But now, the SSR needs to find a way to move forward without Captain America.”
“Exactly. It’s not only about restarting its scientific research division but I also think it needs to shift focus to intelligence and espionage, things that are more relevant for this cold war that we’re going through.” She made a rueful face. “But of course this is just my opinion and as was made very clear to me today, I don’t have much influence at the SSR. And these changes would require a reorganization so drastic that it would make more sense to start a new agency.” She broke off, a little startled in spite of herself at where her thinking aloud had led her. A whole new agency might be the logical conclusion to her nebulous dissatisfaction with the SSR and its limitations but it was hardly that simple.
She felt a stab of doubt, of self-distrust. All that she had heard over the course of her life about how she was too bold, too clever, too outspoken returned to her, everyone who had ever told her that her wishes, her dreams, were impossible in the world as it was now, that she was living in fantasies. That she should simply be thankful for the bare fact that she was still allowed to work at the SSR as it was, that she was only tolerated by the other male agents but would never be accepted by them, let alone respected. An attitude that she had been forcefully reminded of today.
She made a rueful face. “I got carried away, didn’t I? Of course all this is a pipe dream. I should focus more on what’s actually possible.”
Steve opened his mouth, closed it, and then after a moment, told her, “It is possible.” He hesitated for a moment and then went on, “In the future I saw, I mentioned the organization that is the equivalent of the SSR, its successor. You were the one who founded it.”
She blinked and stared at him. “I founded a whole new agency?”
The corners of his lips faintly tipped upwards although his expression was rather sad. “Yes. It was why I agreed to work for that agency almost immediately after I woke up from the ice, because I learned that you had founded it. I was so lost at first, not knowing anything about the world, but then I heard that you had founded that agency. It was the first thing in the future that I recognized, felt a connection with. And I was so proud of you. I wanted to be a part of what you had built.”
Founding an entirely new agency. Even though it had been her own idea, she found the idea of it daunting. “You really think I could do that, create an entirely new intelligence and scientific research agency?”
He met her eyes. “I know you can. I’ve always thought that you can do anything you set your mind to.”
She still couldn’t quite believe it herself but she did believe in him. She felt the first flickers of hope and some burgeoning excitement inside her, her mind starting to work. “I couldn’t do it alone. No one in the government and the military would listen to a woman who wanted to found a new agency. But I could talk to Howard and he would likely help. Certainly, he would like the idea of an agency that has more of a focus on scientific research. And he has the resources and the connections to the power-brokers in Washington to get the necessary permissions from the government and for the military and intelligence side, I could contact Colonel Phillips. He’s well-connected and I think he would understand the need for the new agency if I talked to him about it. It could work–” She broke off as she noticed his expression, the faint smile hovering around his lips. “What is it?”
“Just… you. I love seeing you like this, when you’re thinking and planning and so focused. It’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
She felt her breath hitch in her chest, her heart fluttering. When he looked at her the way he was now, she felt indomitable, felt as if she really might be as capable, as formidable, as he believed she was. As always, he made her feel stronger, smarter, and better than she was because he believed in her.
“Oh, Steve…” she breathed. “You–”
Whatever she’d been about to say was lost as they both heard the sound of Sarah’s wail and immediately reacted, all other thoughts vanishing from her mind and, she knew, from his as well.
“I’ll get her,” she quickly offered and hurried out of the dining room and up the stairs into the nursery. She found Sarah sitting up crying fitfully and Peggy’s heart swelled inside her chest as her daughter’s sobs hitched and subsided a little into whimpers when she saw Peggy.
It still amazed her sometimes, not just the fact that she was a mother but the sheer depth of the love she felt for her daughter. “There now, Mama’s here, sweetling,” she crooned as she lifted Sarah into her arms, smoothing a hand down her baby’s soft blonde hair and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s fine. I’m right here.” She kept up a steady stream of soothing nonsense as she checked and changed Sarah’s diaper before carrying her downstairs.
Steve had already prepared a bottle of milk for Sarah and handed it to Peggy as she resumed her seat with Sarah propped on her lap. She cuddled her baby to her, kissing the wavy blonde hair, several shades lighter than Steve’s. “Here you are,” she murmured. “Will you drink your milk for Mama, sweetling?” She held the bottle up next to Sarah’s tiny hand, brushing it against her fingers, until Sarah’s small chubby fingers unfurled and grasped the bottle in both her hands and Peggy helped guide the bottle to the baby’s mouth. She waited until Sarah started to drink and her lips curved. “There’s my good girl,” she praised. She kept half an eye on Sarah and a hand ready to prop up the bottle in case Sarah needed it although lately, Sarah had proven capable of holding her bottle herself, before she glanced up at Steve.
Steve was focused on Sarah, mesmerized by their daughter as he had been from the moment she’d been born, his expression filled with so much love he almost appeared illuminated from within. Something in her chest clenched at the sight, as often happened. She of all people knew the depths of Steve’s heart, how devotedly he could love, but even so, whenever she saw Steve with their daughter, it occurred to her that she had never even imagined the quality and intensity of his love for their daughter.
“Sometimes, I still find it hard to believe that she’s here and she’s ours,” he breathed.
“Even when she’s making a mess of your shirt?”
His lips lifted. “Moments like that are what convince me that this is real.”
“Well, she seems to be rather good at those reminders of reality,” she observed, looking down at their daughter. “Aren’t you, sweetling?” she murmured, briefly tightening her embrace on their baby girl.
As if to prove the truth of her words, Sarah twisted her head to look up at Peggy and then flung her bottle on the ground with a squeal.
Peggy and Steve both laughed as Steve bent to retrieve the fortunately mostly-empty bottle. “I think that means she’s done,” he observed, his eyes alight with humor.
“So it would seem,” she responded dryly, shifting Sarah in her lap and turning her daughter to face her. “Throwing things is not ladylike,” she pretended to scold her baby, who only gave her a rather gummy smile and a cry, one of her hands reaching to try to grab Peggy’s nose. Peggy ducked her head away with a laugh.
“Here, I’ll take her,” Steve offered, suiting action to the words as he reached for their daughter. “After all, she’s already spit up on me once today. No need to risk her getting your dress dirty as well.” His voice changed, softened, in that way it always did when he addressed their daughter. “You’ll be a good girl, won’t you, sweetheart?” He settled her against his shoulder where he had placed the dishcloth he had used to clean up the few drops of milk that had escaped from Sarah’s bottle when she had flung it to the floor.
For just a moment, his eyes closed as he cuddled Sarah against his shoulder, his cheek against her hair. And Peggy felt absurd, foolish tears pricking at the back of her eyes, warmth coiling around her heart, as happened sometimes when she watched Steve with their daughter. It was something about the expression on his face, how at peace he looked and so suffused with joy. It was a look she had never seen on his face before Sarah had been born and it always caught at her heart. She remembered the way he had looked when he had first returned to her, the faint lines around his eyes and mouth, the shadows in his eyes, the strain that never fully left him, even in sleep, for months after his return. All the subtle but still visible signs of how much he had suffered during his years in the future, how heavy the burden being Captain America had placed on him. And the stark contrast to the way he looked now made her heart swell with so much love and so much happiness she was surprised her chest could hold it all.
He was always so tender with Sarah. As broad-shouldered and strong as he was, his hand dwarfing Sarah’s small head as he cupped it, he was always so beautifully gentle with their daughter. Peggy hadn’t imagined that she could love Steve more than she did but seeing him with their daughter, she knew she’d been wrong.
Peggy had always thought that Steve had been destined to be Captain America; she could not imagine anyone else in that role, could not imagine another person who deserved Dr. Erskine’s serum and could be trusted with it. But seeing him as a father had her thinking that after all, being a father was the role he had truly been meant to play, the role that suited him more than any other, bringing out all his protectiveness, his gentleness, his patience. More, being a father made him happy in a way that being Captain America never had.
A little later, after Peggy had finished cleaning up the detritus from their meal and the kitchen, they retreated to the family room for a precious half-hour of playing with their daughter before it would be time for her bath and then putting her to bed.
They settled on the floor on either side of the blanket that Steve had spread out on the floor that served as Sarah’s play area, positioned so one or the other of them could easily corral Sarah and turn her around if she tried to crawl off the blanket. Tonight, Sarah appeared to be content with batting around the brightly colored children’s blocks that had been a gift from the Jarvises and crawling around after the blocks, emitting squeals of glee and the occasional babbled nonsense-words when Steve joined her in her little game of chase-the-blocks.
“Oh, were you able to get any work done on your latest commission?” Peggy asked as she reached over to rescue a block that had gone skidding some way off the blanket, gently tossing it back towards Sarah.
He responded without moving his gaze from their daughter. “No, not today. I’ll have to try to make up for it tomorrow. Go get the blue one, Sarah!”
“It’s due at the end of the week, isn’t it? Good job, sweetling,” she added. Most of their conversations these days were like this, their own exchanges interspersed with addressing their daughter.
“There you are. Go and get it,” Steve urged their daughter before answering, “Yeah, it is. I might be cutting it close but as long as I get a couple hours of drawing in tomorrow, I should be able to manage it. If not, I can ask for an extension.”
She felt a renewed little flicker of doubt. She could not feel entirely comfortable with how it was always Steve’s artwork that suffered due to their parenting responsibilities, no matter that she knew Steve didn’t mind. “Will you be all right if I go ahead and try to start a new agency?”
That had him momentarily jerking his eyes up to look at her. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because it will mean quite a bit of extra work on top of what I already do for the SSR. I’ll likely need to make a couple trips down to Washington and I don’t imagine that the process for setting up a new agency will happen quickly. We’re likely looking at a few years of additional work for me, which will mean you’ll have to take care of Sarah more than you already do. And you have your work to do too.”
Steve pushed a red block towards their daughter before he looked up at her, meeting her eyes. “As long as you believe that starting this new agency is the right thing to do, then you should do it and whatever you decide, I’ll support you. It might mean extra work for both of us for a while but we’ll manage.” His lips quirked slightly. “We fought in a war together and helped defeat the Nazis. After that, do you really think there’s anything we can’t handle as long as we’re together?”
Looking at him now, content, relaxed, with all his confidence in her clearly visible in his steadfast eyes, she couldn’t doubt him, couldn’t doubt them . And of course, Steve was a man who had literally defeated alien invasions and crossed time and space in order to return to her and to this life. She returned his smile. “If you put it like that, I suppose you’re right.”
He huffed in mock disgruntlement. “You only suppose I’m right? Of course I’m right. We always did make a good team.” He reached out and picked up Sarah who had apparently tired of the blocks and had crawled over to climb into his lap, turning her to face Peggy. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He nuzzled a kiss to their daughter’s cheek. “Tell Mama we can handle anything.”
“Mama ba goo!” Sarah declared.
Steve and Peggy laughed and he cuddled their daughter closer to him. “See, Sarah agrees. Do what you need to do in starting a new agency and I promise you, we’ll make it work.”
Peggy thought she might never have loved him more than she did in that moment, her heart giving a hard little thump in her chest at the sight of their two faces right next to each other making the resemblance between them clear. Sarah had his chin, his eye brows, his fair hair, and his eyes, at least in shape although not in color, because Sarah’s eyes were dark, not blue. These two people she loved more than anything or anyone else in the world.
“All right, I’m convinced,” she smiled. And she meant it. With him by her side, she felt as close to invincible as, well, as Dr. Erskine’s serum had made Captain America. “After all, you are my right partner.” Her right partner, in dancing, in parenthood, and in life.
His smile deepened. “Partners,” he agreed. “Forever.”
And as always, there was no one she would rather have by her side than him. With him by her side, she could not doubt that she could found a whole new intelligence and scientific research agency. With him by her side, she truly believed that she could change the world.
~The End~