Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peggy planned everything down to the last detail. She needed this to be perfect.

The war was over, HYDRA was scattered to the winds, leaving it to them to pick up the pieces, but more importantly Steve was safe and sound. Finally safe from throwing himself into certain death every other Tuesday - it was just now a once a month ordeal, something she could stomach a lot easier.

This decision was solidified - she’s waited long enough, thank you very much. She wasn’t about to let some misguided sense of propriety stop her from asking the man she loved to marry her. A war had nearly separated them and she wasn’t going to let him get away.

She might’ve planned everything down to the last detail but she had to wait for the right moment to pop the question. This required precision, perfection, and Peggy was allowing herself to grow impatient.

The excitement and impatience had caused her to mention her plans to Dugan over drinks - and if anyone asked, it was the drinks. She could hold her own but the warm atmosphere, the relief of the war ending, and being around the people she considered friends, caused her to drop her guard just enough to spill the secret.

“You’re gonna what now?” Dugan choked on his beer, wiping the foam from his mustache with the back of his hand. “Did I just hear you right?”

Peggy laughed, setting her bottle down. “You did, Dugan, you did. The moment we’re back in London, I’m going to pop the question. I’ve already spoken to a jeweler about a ring and it’s ready to be picked up once we land.”

She should’ve done something when Dugan’s eyes lit up like a child at Christmas, maybe shut him down or something. Instead, Peggy decided to ignore it and figured these boys (her boys) wouldn’t do anything to interrupt her proposal. She figured it was best to go home now, downing her bottle and hugging Dugan.

The second the door closed behind Peggy, Dugan swung around on the stool and faced his friends with a giant grin.

“Boys!” he bellowed, hopping to his feet. “Get over here! We got to help Carter get engaged to America’s sweetheart!”

Three Days Earlier

Bucky stared at the few Howling Commandos assembled around his table, fiddling with a piece of machinery Howard had dropped off with him. He stared at them, trying to determine if they’d all lost their mind or were they just bored enough to create chaos.

“Absolutely not,” Bucky said flatly, shaking his head.

“Come on, Buck,” Dugan whined, dragging a stool to sit across from Bucky. He slid a bottle of beer across the work table, giving his best impression of puppy dog eyes. “You’ve got to help! It’s romantic and you love romance - I’ve seen you read those romance novels under your sheets.”

Bucky’s ears turned a bright red, clearing his throat. “Do you not hear yourselves? It’s not only insane, it’s dangerous too. We’re talking about planning a proposal for The Peggy Carter. The woman who took down twelve Hydra agents with just a stapler and her heels! Do you not remember when you guys got drunk enough to challenge her to a sparring competition? She beat all of you and almost broke Gabe’s nose!”

“And that’s exactly why we need to get involved! We can make it perfect!” Gabe Jones leaned forward, his eyes bright with delight. “Don’t you see? This is a once in a lifetime operation that we can be a part of, Barnes. We’re talking about Steve and Peggy’s happiness here!”

“And I’ve known Steve since I was knee-high and I can tell you that he might enjoy our involvement but Carter? She won’t let us survive and we know she’ll leave no evidence.” Bucky gestured around the room, his eyes landing on Falsworth. “Remember what happened the last time you lot tried to plan a surprise party? Half of Belgium is still recovering and you, Falsworth, you’re still missing one eyebrow!”

“That was different!” Falsworth argued, snorting and straightening his jacket in protest. “And technically, we saved Belgium, going by the reports.”

“You blew up Belgium, damn the reports!”

“Hey now, we only blew up part of Belgium,” Morita corrected. “And we only blew up the parts that had Nazis in ‘em. So we were doing them a favor.”

Bucky sighed, rubbing at his temples. Technically, Morita was right but he wasn’t going to fuel them by admitting that. “Look, fellas - if Carter says she’s got this handled, then I believe her. Knowing Carter and her obsession with details, she already planned the little things, when, where, and what to say. We’ll just ruin her plans.”

“But that’s just it!” Dugan interrupted, his hand hitting the table hard enough to cause the metal to jump. “She’s doing all the work and we all know Steve wouldn’t want that - besides, where is the romance in all that? Where’s the...the... Falsworth, what’s that word I’m missing? The one with knights?”

“Chivalry?”

“Yes, thank you - that’s the one. Where’s the chivalry in letting the dame do all the proposing work here?”

“Because it’s 1945, not 1345 and Peggy isn’t a dame and if she heard you calling her that, she would hand you your ass,” Bucky pointed out.

“Exactly and Modern times call for modern solutions. Come on, work with me, Bucky.” Dugan’s grin was starting to remind Bucky of the other times he’s seen that smile and all hell broke loose. “Which is why we’re gonna give her the best damn proposal setup in history! It’ll be one for the books.”

“That’s exactly what you said about Belgium before it went up in flames!” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could feel the start of a migraine drumming. “And how exactly do you - y’know, plan to - no. No. I’m not asking - I don’t want to know, I shouldn’t know.”

Dernier ignored his protests, pulling out a worn notebook and flipping to a page filled out with sketches and quickly jotted down notes. “See? Ze location, she must be parfait. Romantic, but not too...hm, obvious? Yes, obvious.”

“We’ve already chosen the perfect spot,” Falsworth announced. “The old Thornfield estate, it’s been abandoned since the Blitz, but the gardens are still magnificent. Unbelievable - very Jane Austen if you ask me.”

“Nodbody asked you,” Bucky muttered, looking at the sketches on the notebook. He knew by taking the notebook, he was practically admitting that he was following this insane plan. “What makes you think Peggy wants Jane Austen? She’s more likely to want something...more practical - more them and not just pretty flowers?”

“How do you know she doesn’t not want them?” Gabe challenged, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “I’ve been doing reconnaissance.”

“What? You’ve been doing what?”

“Reconnaissance, Barnes. I asked a few agents what sorta books Agent Carter likes to read in her spare time.” Gabe unfolded the paper with a flourish of his wrist, dramatic as always. “And you wouldn’t believe - romance novels! She keeps a steady stream of them being passed around with other agents, keeps them hidden behind her military strategy manuals.”

“You went snooping around in her room? Do you have a death wish?” Bucky hissed at him, hand jerking away from the paper so she couldn’t pin it on him. “You’re telling me Peggy Carter reads romance novels?” He could see it, but it also felt unbelievable to some degree.

“Excessively, according to Lorraine. Particularly ones with so called ‘dashing heroes’ and ‘dramatic declarations of love.’”

Bucky frowned as he stared down at the note, part of him still struggling to wrap his head around Agent Carter - the woman who could defuse a bomb in twelve seconds, the woman who used Steve’s shield to slide down the hill and take out ten Hydra agents too - reading romance. Well, he supposed everyone had their way of destressing.

“Well...I’ll be damned.”

“Soooo you’re in?” Dugan sounded hopeful, still batting those puppy dog eyes.

Bucky looked around his worktable, at their eager faces. These were good men, good men who had his back. These were good men, perhaps insane, destructive, well-meaning good men, but they were good men all the same. And if they wanted to do something nice for Steve and Peggy...

“I’m going to regret this,” he finally muttered. “But yeah, yeah, boys, I’m in.”

The cheer was loud enough to cause a few straggling agents to look their way and Bucky couldn’t help but to join in.

“Right then!” Falsworth clapped his hands together, grinning. “First things first - we need to get ahold of that ring.”

Bucky paused midship of his celebratory beer, raising his brow. “What ring? You didn’t tell me about the ring.”

Mortia stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “The ring Peggy is having made, of course. She can’t propose without a proper ring in the proper place at the proper time.”

“You...want to steal Peggy Carter’s engagement ring?” Bucky asked slowly, trying to determine if he’d officially lost his mind now or not. “The woman who figured out Hydra’s communication network using a crossword puzzle?”

“No,” Dugan corrected, twirling a pen stolen from Bucky’s cup. “Borrow. We want to borrow her ring for the greater good.”

Bucky snorted. “The greater good? The greater good of what, exactly?”

“Romance!” Dugan, Gabe, and Falsworth said at once.

Bucky buried his face in his hands, groaning. “I should have stayed in that ravine.”

Two Day Earlier

“Absolutely not,” Howard said, not bothering ot look up from the complicated array of gears and springs spread across his workbench. His hand slapped the area until Bucky took pity and slid one of the nearest wrenched into his grasp. “Listen, guys, I love you and all that but I don’t care how you found out, I’m not giving you Peggy’s ring. I value my life.”

“Come on, Howard,” Bucky tried again, not short of begging. “We’re not asking you to give it to us, We’re just asking you to help us set up the perfect proposal for the two people who deserve it.”

“The perfect proposal...” Howard stopped and looked up, grease on the tip of his nose and over his brow where he’d been rubbing his forehead. “The perfect proposal from you lot? Remind me if I’m wrong here but you lot did once accidentally destroy a German ammunition depot while attempting to make coffee.”

“That was one time!” Dugan countered.

“It was three times. Three separate times. I counted.”

“Hang on a sec,” Gabe said suddenly, snapping his fingers and drawing out the notebook from Dernier’s pocket. “Howard, you’ve been working with the SSR on procuring contracts, right? I was tracking a few things here...”

“Among other things,” Howard replied cautiously, wrench dangling in his fingertips. “Why?”

“And Peggy said she was having her ring made.”

“In London,” Falsworth added, sharing a look with Gabe. “Harrington & Sons, finest jewelers in the city. Rumored to have been making rings for the royal family for generations. She must’ve been owed some favors to get a set made by them.”

Howard’s face went carefully blank, focusing on the wrench and burying his face back into the machinery. “Y’know, fellas, I wouldn’t know anything about that. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

After working with Howard for the past few years, Bucky had learned to read his tells - especially the way Howard got fidgety when he was trying to avoid telling the whole truth. “Howard,” he said slowly, treating Howard like he was a scared animal he didn’t want to startle. “For the love of all that is holy, please tell me you didn’t intercept Agent Peggy Carter’s engagement ring.”

“I prefer to think of it as...expediting the delivery process, is all. So when you think about it, I technically did that.”

Bucky was back to pinching the bridge of his nose and counting back from five. “You stole her ring? You stole Agent Carter’s ring. May I remind you she once broke a man’s wrist for stealing her tea and that was on a *good* day? Granted, the tea was a grand hiding spot for some sensitive information but the point stands.”

That did cause Howard to pause for a moment but he shrugged, only sparing Bucky a glance. “I was there, Barnes. I acquired it through the official channels, so no sneaky spy shit. Harrington owed me a favor after I helped him with some supply chain issues during the Blitz. When her order came through while I was there, I offered to handle it myself to deliver it to her. Seemed efficient.”

“Efficient,” Dugan repeated slowly, shaking his head. “You thought stealing Peggy Carter’s engagement ring was efficient and not signing your death certificate?”

“Once again, it’s not stealing! Besides, I have a better idea then these flimsy, standard gold bands.” Howard’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, pawing at the inside of the machine. “You know these gold bands aren’t exactly designed for super-soldier strength, right? Steve could bend that ring by clenching his fist or slamming it onto something and this is a lot of money for something so flimsy.”

The Commandos exchanged glances, it was Falsworth who spoke first, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I can make ones better! More suited for their life-style. Out of vibranium shavings, custom-designed for enhanced individuals. I’ve kept some around just for this reason,” Howard rambled. “Nearly indestructible, perfectly balanced. Why should they settle for ordinary when we’re talking about the wedding of the century?"

“You want to make Steve a super-soldier wedding band,” Bucky translated, chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought. “I supposed you have a good point there - those bands won’t last long in Steve’s hands. And if he accidentally ruins something Peggy bought for him, he’ll feel guilty.”

“See! You get my point! They’ll be a matching set, don’t worry. It’ll be practical and romantic.”

“And we’re sure Peggy will want to go with this and you’re not steam rolling over her proposal?” Morita asked, waving his hand to shut Bucky up when the man whipped his head in his direction. “No, you hush. I get the irony, but that’s different.”

Howard paused, fingers drumming on his table. “Well, she’s marrying a super-soldier. She’s a practical woman, yeah? She’ll want it to withstand their lifestyle - it’ll be enhanced durability, resistance to extreme temperatures, built in emergency beacon, the works.”

“Emergency beacon?” Gabe repeated slowly, almost afraid of the answer.

“Mhm, emergency beacon. In case one of them gets kidnapped, let’s be honest, it’s bound to happen at least once a year in their line of work.”

There was a lapse of silence before Bucky was the one to break it, clearing his throat. “Howard, that’s either the most thoughtful or the most paranoid wedding gift in history.”

“Why not both? I’ve been called a genius and maniac enough.” Howard grinned, turning his attention to the men, the wrench clattering onto the table. “So, what exactly are you men planning?”

A suspicious amount of silence followed the question.

“Nothing dangerous,” Dugan replied after a beat.

“Nothing too dangerous,” Falsworth corrected quickly.

“Nothing that will result in international incidents. Again,” Morita added.

“Nothing that will get us court-martialed,” Gabe finished.

“Again,” Dernier whispered just loud enough for them to hear.

Howard stared at them for a long moment, clearly weighing his choices. Finally, he leaned back into his chair, pulling an old rag from his pocket and started to clean his hands. “Alright, you’ve caught my attention. Tell me more.”

“Well...” Bucky began, clearing his throat. “You see - Falsworth found this estate-”

“Thornfield,” Falsworth interrupted, wanting to get the details straight. “Lovely gardens, very secluded, it’s perfect for a romantic evening.”

“Right, so we - this lot, really - wants to set up the perfect romantic scene. Candles, flowers, maybe some music -”

“Oh music!” Howard jumped out of his seat, causing them to jump too. “I have just the right - I’ve been working on this new sound amplification system. It could pipe a whole orchestra!”

“Theoretically,” Bucky muttered, rubbing his face. “But if it does work, that’s not a terrible idea. But it needs to work, Howard!”

“And then there’s the ring presentation,” Dugan continued, “We need pizzazz.”

“Pizzazz,” Howard repeated slowly, almost giddy. “What sort of pizzazz are you looking for?”

“You know, flair, drama! Something that will make them say ‘this is a moment that will go down in history.”

“You know when most people say that, it’s never a good thing,” Bucky pointed out, attempting to be the voice of reason but was promptly ignored.

Howard was quiet for a moment, staring past them and drumming his fingers on the workbench. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face, the same manic smile he got before something exploded or the city lost half its power.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “I think I can help you with the proposal of the century.”

“Actually,” Gabe corrected, leaning closer to the table. “We’re calling it Operation: Proposal.”

Bucky blinked a few times, staring at Gabe. “No the hell we’re not.”

One Day Earlier

“I can’t decide if this is the most brilliant or the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Bucky muttered, watching Howard make final adjustments to a machine that looked like a mechanical nightmare.

He didn’t even want to get near it but Howard had designated him as his personal helper.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Howard protested. “It’s brilliant! It’s one of my most brilliant machines.” He was tightening a spring with more enthusiasm than was probably wise. “I call it the Automatic Romantic Ring Delivery System, Mark I. When activated, it will launch the ring in a perfect arc, directly to the proposer. It’ll be accompanied by a shower of rose petals and precisely timed music accompanying it.”

All in all, a bunch of words that made Bucky blink and thinking of all the errors that could happen in between each action. “And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll have Mark II ready by tomorrow with your help,” Howard dismissed, waving his hand.

“Howard, that’s not really reassuring.”

“I’m not trying to be reassuring, Bucky. I’m being logical. Just trust me, alright? The math is perfect - the trajectory calculations are flawless. I did the math myself. The timing mechanism is synchronized down to the millisecond, alright?” Howard stepped back, dusting his hands off and smiling like a proud father. “Nothing can go wrong!”

To prove them wrong, there came a tremendous crash as Dugan tested the “romantic lighting system” that Dernier rigged up around the oak trees. Possibly not the safest of places, but Dernier had insisted.

“Sorry!” Dugan’s shouting carried across the grounds. “Don’t worry, Barnes, it just needs a minor adjustment!”

“Everything’s fine!” Gabe called out. “The fire’s completely under control!”

“Fire?!” Bucky and Howard said in unison, Bucky already bolting towards the extinguisher they almost didn’t bring along.

“Gabe, shut up!” Morita’s voice joined the chorus of chaos. “It’s just a small fire! Very small! Practically invisible.”

Bucky’s panic was proven correct as smoke began to rise from the direction of the old gazebo.

“I should point out,” Falsworth appeared at their elbow like a well-dressed ghost who’d nearly gotten backhanded for his startling. “The string quartet Stark hired specifically requested there be no pyrotechnics within fifty feet of their instruments. Very expensive.”

“There aren’t supposed to be any pyrotechnics at all!” Bucky snapped.

“Well, yes, but you know how things tend to get a little...flamey when Dernier is involved.”

As if summoned by his name, Dernier came jogging up to be at their sides. His face streaked with soot and his hair singed at the edges, he was lucky to still have his eyebrows.

“Romantic candles,” he announced cheerfully, as if it all made sense, “zey are perhaps a little too...how you say enthusiastic. Bright.”

“Ethusiastic,” Bucky repeated flatly.

“Oui. Very passionate. Very bright. Very...spready.”

“Spready?” Bucky’s voice nearly quivered with the question.

“Oui. Ze flames, zey spready to ze gazebo.” Before Bucky could panic, Dernier continued with a bright grin. “But is no problem! Ze gazebo, she is very ugly anyway. She needs to go.”

“I told you we needed that gazebo, Dernier!” Dugan’s voice boomed from behind the smoke. “That was the centerpiece of all of us!”

“We’ll make do,” Falsworth defended, looking above them to the thick treelines. “Perhaps a nice tree? Very pastoral trees around here.”

“Speaking of trees,” Howard murmured, nudging Bucky with his shoulder. “Is that Dugan stuck in one of those pastoral trees?”

Bucky turned to follow Howard’s line of sight and nearly just walked away from this all. Sure enough, Dugan was dangling about fifteen feet off of the ground, tangled in what appeared to be several strings of decorative lights and at least one branch.

“How did he get up there?”

“Ze pulley system we invented,” Dernier explained so not helpfully. “For ze romantic banner, she very complicated. Very springy. We used ze grabblin’ gun.”

“What fucking grabbling gun?!” Bucky nearly exploded. “We don’t have a grabbling gun!”

“Yes we do! Howard gave it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And the banner? Did it survive?”

Dernier nodded, pointing high above them. Stretched between two oak trees, there laid a banner that read “MARRY ME STEVE” fluttering in the cool, evening breeze.

Bucky opened and closed his mouth. “That’s not what it’s supposed to say!”

“Non? But ze Capitaine, his name is Steve, oui? Or should ze say Steven?”

“Yes, I mean no. I mean - Peggy is the one doing the proposing.”

“Ah.” Dernier considered this, nose wrinkling as he studied the banner. “Perhaps we should be more specific.”

From the trees, Dugan shouted, “Little help down here - well up here! Please? And someone check on Morita! Last I saw him, he was chasing the string quartet around the fountain!”

“Why...Why was he doing that?” Howard asked in a manner that said he was afraid of the response.

“Because the fountain’s not supposed to be full of champagne!” Gabe called back, still somewhere behind the clearing smoke.

“It’s not?”

“No, Howard, it’s not! It’s supposed to be full of rose petals floating in normal clear water. Romantic, not alcoholic,” Bucky grumbled.

“Then why is it full of champagne?”

“Because somebody,” Gabe shouted in an accusatory tone. “Mixed up the plumbing with the champagne fountain system you installed for their romantic toast!”

Howard blinked, a bark of laughter escaping him, “Oh, right - I forgot about that.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open. “You...forgot?”

“I’ve been doing like seventeen different romantic contraptions and backups. This is very easy to lose track of.”

Alright, Howard might’ve had a point here. He still needed a moment to clear his thoughts, closing his eyes and counting down from ten.

This was a full on disaster. The gazebo was still on fire, Dugan was still stuck in the tree. Now with the sight of the very confused string quartet who apparently decided that if they couldn’t run away, they might as well keep playing. The fountain was spouting champagne, creating fizzy golden sprays that were coating everything in a fifteen-foot radius. And, perhaps worst of all, Howard’s Automatic Romantic Ring Delivery System sat in the middle of it all like a mechanical spider with its gears and ominous clicking sounds.

“You know what?” Bucky finally said, “I think this might actually work, as long as we clean up the tidbits.”

“Really?” Howard's expression brightened.

“No! We’re all going to die and Peggy’s going to kill us, and Steve’s going to help her hide the bodies One by one.”

“But think of the story they’ll have to tell their grandchildren!” Falsworth called out, somehow having acquired a champagne glass from somewhere and looking entirely too pleased with the chaos around him.

“Details,” Howard waved dismissively. “The important thing is the sentiment is there. Love conquerors all, right?”

The sound of breaking tree branches caused their attention to turn towards Dugan, witnessing the slow and painful crash to the ground. Unfortunately for all of them, Dugan landed directly on Howard’s ring delivery system.

They cringed as the machine sounded like a dying pterodactyl and they witnessed the ring flying skyward in a perfect arc.

Unfortunately it was the wrong arc entirely.

“Was - was it supposed to do that?” Bucky asked, the ring disappearing over the treeline.

“Define supposed to?’” Howard said weakly. “Yes and no...”

In the distance, they could hear someone shouting in French. Someone who sounded very surprised and very confused.

“Right... Change of plans,” Bucky sighed, rolling up his sleeves. “We’re going to somehow fix this mess and make this...whatever the fuck this is more manageable. We’re going to give these fellas the most memorable proposal in history.”

“Even if it kills us?” Gabe asked, appearing at his elbow with his jacket smoking slightly.

“Especially if it kills us. Alright, somebody get me a bucket of water and a very long rope.”

Chapter Text

Present Day

Peggy checked her watch for the third time that hour, sighing harshly out of her nose. Steve was late, which wasn’t unusual for him and was quite on par for him but it didn’t mean the starts of doubt weren’t gnawing at her gut.

She’d asked him to meet her at the old Thornfield estate at sunset - she’d scouted the location herself and deemed it not just appropriately romantic but private for them. Steve would adore to see the numerous wild roses running wild across the crumbling estate and the sweet scent that was carried on the wind.

The ring box felt heavy in her jacket pocket, she was lucky to have gotten it back from Howard at all. He seemed weirdly cagey about it, kept making up excuses until she threatened to turn his lab upside down to find it.

Everything was perfect, everything was lined up just right, the only missing element was Steve.

Luckily a distraction came by voices. Multiple voices. Loud voices that carried across the yard. And unless she was mistaken, one of them belonged to Dugan.

“What in blazes...” she muttered, searching the horizon one last time for Steve before she turned on her heels and followed the voices to their owners.

The voices were getting louder now and as she got closer, she could make out a few more words that had her pause and truly debate if she should continue down this path. Words like “timing mechanism”, “trajectory”, and rather alarmingly, “put out the fire, now.”

She quickened her stride, pushing through an overgrown hedge and tried not to think of how many tears her clothes were going to obtain from this. She stood on the other side, breath a little hurried and dabbing at a bit of blood pooling from a slight cut along her cheek.

The scene that greeted her could only be described of something short of a fevered dream - perhaps closer to a nightmare.

There were candles, hundreds of them arranged in elaborate patterns around the gardens, most of them flickering normally. Most - but several clusters had been placed too close together or against the dried foliage. They were burning and flickering with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested they’d been doused in something much more flammable than wax.

There were flowers, mountains of scavenged roses of various colors scattered everywhere. Many of them were singed and the smell alone made her nose hairs want to curl up.

In the center of it all stood a fountain, shooting what looked like champagne fifteen feet into the air into a golden arc that was slowly but steadily coating everything in the immediate vicinity.

And then there were the Howling Commandos running around and barking orders at one another - well she recognized when plans had just exploded in their faces.

There were only so many times Mortia and Dernier could lose their eyebrows before it just stopped growing back.

“What,” Peggy said slowly, her voice cutting through the chaos. “In the bloody hell is going on here?! Dugan, what is this?!”

Every head in the garden snapped in her direction, they mimicked meerkats to her. She would’ve found it hysterical if there wasn’t chaos before her.

Morita froze in the middle of beating out a small fire with his coat, the fire lapping at his feet without notice. Gabe stopped mid-sprint, his arms full of various musical instruments that had perhaps seen better days. Dugan was tangled in a tree branch twelve feet off the ground with various lights, going very still and looking around at others

When no one else spoke, Dugan did, sounding far too cheerful for whatever this situation was. “Peg! Hey! You’re a bit early.”

“Dare I ask, what am I early for?’

“For the, uh...” Dugan looked around desperately for help and when one came, he shrugged like that would just answer everything. “The thing, of course.”

“Dugan, I swear to God - what thing?’

“The romantic thing!” Gabe supplied, less then helpful given Peggy’s sharp look.

Dernier came jogging up, his face streaked with soot and hair singed at the edges, putting a temporary stop to the conversation. He paused at Peggy’s expression, hands up in self defense.

“Ze romantic candles,” he explained his appearance, “zey are still a little too happy. Enthusiastic.”

“Candles, romantic or not, shouldn’t be happy enough to burn your eyebrow hair, Dernier! What in the hell is going on?”

Peggy looked around at the garden again, a once peaceful sight amongst the horrors of war now stood marked with the Howling Commandos doings.

“If I have this right...you’re planning some kind of...” Peggy trailed off for a moment, not sure she wanted to finish her sentence about her observation. “Some kind of romantic evening?”

The guilty silence was deafening.

“Now hang on, now just romantic!” Dugan protested, wiggling about in the tree. “The most romantic! We’re gonna give you the perfect setup for your-”

He stopped, seeming to realize what he had been saying.

“Dugan, finish that sentence. For my what?”

“For your proposal to Steve!” Morita finished before immediately clapping a hand over his mouth.

“Surprise?” Gabe offered weakly.

The silence that followed was only broken by the sound of several small fires crackling merrily away in the background and someone attempting to put them out and the sound of Peggy counting to ten in three different languages.

“Just tell me this - where is Steve?” Peggy asked slowly, having a gnawing feeling this group of idiots was involved.

A guilty silence fell over the group, each one wearing a different expression of guilt. Even the fires seemed to have quieted down out of respect for the danger tone edging in her voice.

“Well,” Dugan began, wringing his hands together and looking like he’d rather be facing a battalion of HYDRA agents than an angry Peggy Carter. “You see...”

“We lost him,” Gabe finished quickly, like ripping off a bandaid, no need to try to string this out. “

“Temporarily!” Morita added hastily, seeing the anger rising in Peggy. “Very temporarily! It’s not like he doesn’t know the area. He’s possibly, probably just exploring the area.”

“Exploring the area,” Peggy repeated fatly, the tone causing Morita to flinch.

“We told him to meet us here at sunset for a ‘special mission briefing’,” Falsworth called out from beyond the hill where he was attempting to put out another fire. “But then we got distracted ‘cause Howard’s contraption went off early and-”

“Howard! I should’ve known that man was involved in this whole disaster!” Peggy’s voice pitched higher, “Where the hell is that man?! Howard Stark, if you-”

“Hey!” came Howard’s muffled voice from behind a smoking hedge. “I prefer to think of this whole thing as a learning experience. I promise, next time won’t be such a mess.”

“Who in the hell said they’ll be next time?!” Peggy barked, turning on her heels to face the voice. “Come out here this instant.”

Howard came stumbling out of the bushes, his hair standing at wild angles and shirt torn in several places that weren’t bearing the oil stains of his new invention. He was clutching what appeared to be the smoking remains of some kind of mechanical device with his fingertips. At least he had his eyebrows this time, even if his mustache was singed slightly.

“The good news is that the automatic ring delivery system works perfectly,” Howard announced, “after some adjustments.”

“And the bad news?”

“The bad news is that it perhaps worked a bit too perfectly? And it may have delivered your ring to the wrong person. In the wrong country.”

Peggy had nothing to say for a solid few minutes, staring at him and trying to think of what she could say that wasn’t just a string of curses. ”Howard.”

Howard shrugged, but didn’t meet her eyes. He found sudden interest in the device, fiddling with it. “It’s being put to good use! I might have accidentally proposed to a very surprised French baker on your behalf. In English. Very loudly. With fireworks.”

This time Peggy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Howard, I swear...”

“But the important thing is there was sentimental value! And I’m pretty sure we will be able to track down the ring. Hopefully...”

“Hopefully? Howard Stark, I spent - I had - that ring-” She was sputtering, trying to find the right word to start a proper sentence on but her frustrations were rising. She looked around at the group of men, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t seen Steve’s best friend in all of this. “Where the hell is Bucky?”

The guilty silence got guiltier.

“Well...” Dugan said slowly, fidgeting to escape the ropes. “We may have sent Barnes after the ring.”

Peggy turned to Dugan, to see the weary guilt written across his face. “How? What the hell does that mean?”

“He commandeered a motorcycle and crossed the Channel,” Howard explained quickly, stepping into Peggy’s line of sight. “He was muttering something about ‘fixing this mess’ as he left, if that’s something.”

“Sometimes he’s the only one with enough common sense between you lot.” She sighed and shook her head, just trying to put the pieces together. “So Bucky Barnes is currently in France, chasing down my expensive engagement ring, correct?”

“Correct. That’s a very...crisp way to put it.” Howard smiled, still holding the machinery piece in his hand. “Don’t worry, Pegs. Y’know how good Barnes is at finding stuff. He once found your favorite knitting needle lodged into the tree, remember?”

“I remember that it only got lodged into the tree because you thought you could make it more ‘efficient’ by attempting to put lasers of all bloody things on it! It exploded from my hand and ruined the jumper I’d been attempting to fix.”

Whatever Howard was starting to say in defense to his attempt at ‘laser needles’ was lost in the commotion of Steve jogging up the worn path. He wore a slightly confused expression, looking between the Howling Commandos to Howard before he finally landed on Peggy. He looked like he was about to speak before the fountain made an odd gurgling sound.

As he got closer, she noted the bruise across his eye and the few cuts littering his face like he’d been running through thick foliage again. He was limping slightly, holding onto his leg - she could guess going by the mud stains across his uniform that he’d fallen down a muddy hill again.

They stood there, feet away, and watched as the fountain shot a sluggish mixture of concrete and champagne.

Steve took a few steps away from Peggy, recognizing the expression she wore - she was ready to commit murder for the sake of stress relief. “Uh,” he said carefully, looking over the mess and back to her. “You weren’t at our meeting spot, Peggy, so I uh, got worried. Is this a special mission? Does anyone know where Bucky is?”

“Steve” Dugan’s voice boomed across the hills, “There you are! Don’t worry about Bucky, alright? He’s in France - doing his own special mission.”

Steve blinked, looking to Peggy to see if this was true. The frustration written across her expression said it all. “What? He’s - why is he in France?”

“His own special mission - don’t worry about it,” Gabe replied, waving off the concern mounting. “You’re just in time for something special.”

Steve casted his gaze back around the destruction before him, noting the pile of instruments on the ground and the fire that was now at a comforting smoldering level. Well, as comforting it could be for them. The fountain made another noise and they watched as a glob of concrete mixture splattered on the ground.

“Peggy, what’s going on? I can’t - these fellas haven’t been giving me a straight answer for days.”

“Don’t look at me! These idiots just took it upon themselves to-” Peggy stopped herself, clearing her throat. “Please just ignore them, this is not how I wanted to do it.”

“Of course it is,” Mortia interjected, helpfully (not really). “Maybe a bit more romantically but you had a whole speech prepared and everything. We could hear you practicing.”

“Speech?” Steve’s brow ruffled in confusion as he tried to think back of the past few days. “I wasn’t aware you were to give a speech, Peggy. What kind of speech?”

“The kind of speech where she confesses her love for you and asks for your hand in marriage,” Howard interrupted before Dugan could start yelling about ‘little super-solider babies’.

The silence that followed was only broken by the sound of Morita finally putting out the last bits of the fire. All eyes were on them, waiting for Steve’s reaction and seeing Peggy’s growing frustration. None of them were living this down.

Steve blinked slowly, raised his hand to maybe run it through the leaves entangled in his hair before he dropped his hand. His mouth opened and closed several times, resembling a fish but no sounds came out.

Finally, he spoke, sputtering out a, “W-what?” Yet his eyes were only on Peggy.

Peggy wanted to disappear, wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. Not just her, but the Howling Commandos - the reason they were here in this chaos.She wanted to grab Dugan by his mustache and take him with her to the nearest continent - possibly somewhere cold so she could leave him there to freeze that mustache off.

Instead, she breathed in deeply to calm herself down and met Steve’s kind eyes. He deserved the truth after what these men had put him through the last few days.

“The truth is - I planned to propose to you,” she said sincerely. “I planned everything out - I accounted for many, many obstacles and variants. I had it perfect for us - a romantic setting, a proper speech, a beautiful ring. The only thing I didn’t take into account for were these idiots getting involved. Now the ring has been launched into orbit thanks to Howard’s machine and Bucky is attempting to chase it across Europe-”

“Hey I said it’s simply in a different country, not orbit!” Howard protested. “No need to be dramatic, Carter.”

There was a silence that followed that had everyone on edge. Everyone is waiting for Steve’s answer, every moment, every disaster leading to this right here. And yet, Steve started to laugh.

A full body laughter, head thrown back, a hand thrown over his chest and coming from deep within him. He laughed until tears gathered in his eyes and he had to bend over, hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“Peggy,” he gasped between bouts of fierce giggles. “Of course you’re going to propose to me. Of course you were and of course these idiots turned it into what now seems to be an international incident.”

Peggy held her breath and looked very nervous. “Is that a...yes?”

“Are you kidding?” Steve wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Peggy Carter, you could purposely be in the middle of the battlefield, covered in mud and I’d still say yes. You could purpose to me while we’re falling out of a plane. You could purpose to me right here, right now, with Dugan hanging like an ornament in the trees, Howard looking like he lost a wrestling match with a concrete mixer, and Bucky apparently in France, having an international incident with a baker. I’ll always say yes.”

The cheer that went up around them was deafening and the pair couldn’t help but smile.

“So,” Steve continued as the cheers died down. He stepped closer to Peggy and took her hands into his, bringing them up and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Yes. I’ll always want to marry you.”

Peggy felt an overabundance of joy warming her chest - finally allowing her to take what felt like the first breath since this whole incident began. “I love you. I love you so much you ridiculous, ridiculous man.”

“I love you too,” Steve breathed, holding her hands tightly to his chest. “Even if your proposal comes with a side of international incident and a bit of property damage.”

“Hey we helped!” Dugan pointed out cheerfully.

“You almost destroyed half of the estate! Possibly London!” Peggy called back.

“We destroyed it romantically,” Gabe corrected.

“Now that we’ve got all the mush outta the way - can someone please cut me down from this tree?” Dugan called out, looking rather pathetic still hanging there. “I can see my whole life flashing before my eyes and frankly, fellas, it’s been quite boring.”

Steve kissed Peggy then, ignoring Dugan for the moment. The kiss was soft and sweet and perfect for them, with the chaos raining down around them. This might’ve not been the proposal she had dreamed of, but it was theirs and that’s what mattered.

“So,” Steve murmured against her lips. “Want to tell me about that ring Bucky’s chasing through France?”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Howard said, interrupting their private moment as he was prone to do. “That was Peggy’s ring, but I have my own ring I’ve been working on for the two of you.”

Peggy decided that it was better not to question Howard anymore, perhaps some things were better left to mysteries. She couldn’t handle any more surprises today. She could worry about the rings come tomorrow. Steve had said yes, that was the most important detail.

The ring was the least of their problems for today.

Somewhere in France, Bucky Barnes was probably thinking the same thing.

Three Days Later

“We should start planning on how to thank Bucky when he gets back from France,” Steve mused, settling back into Peggy’s office couch while she sat behind her desk.

“Thank him?” Peggy looked up from her paperwork, frowning. “Steve, he’s been missing for three days. Aren’t you concerned? The last telegram we got said, ‘complications with local law enforcement. I’m okay. Don’t send the Frisbee or Taz. Will handle personally.”

“He’s cleaning up his mess, Pegs,” Steve attempted to comfort her. “That’s what best friends who decide to get into the business of proposing with the Howlies and Howard Stark do.”

As if summoned by their name, Dugan knocked on the doorframe and half stepped into the room. He looked sheepish, fiddling with a piece of paper in his hand.

“Uh, Cap? Peggy? You might want to see this.”

He handed a telegram over and Steve read it aloud, “Ring recovered - stop. Baker apologized - stop. Slight international incident - stop. Bringing croissants, back tomorrow - stop. Next time you plan your own proposal - stop. With love, Barnes.”

Peggy leaned back into her chair, pen twiddling between her fingertips. “The man who’d been chasing my engagement ring across France for the past three days, got into some altercation with local law enforcement, and he’s bringing us croissants.”

“Mhm, good croissants - French ones.”

“You’re all insane,” Peggy declared, unable to fight the smile. “Completely, utterly insane.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, reaching across the desk to take her hand. “But you’re marrying into this family.”

“Package deal, I’m afraid.” Peggy laughed, squeezing his hand. She reread the telegram, the tension dying in her shoulders some. “Do you think he’s really okay?”

Seeing the need for comfort, Steve understood. “Peggy, it’s Bucky. The man sweet-talked his way out of Azzano, charmed half the French Resistance into helping us blow up that Southern HYDRA facility, and remember when he also convinced a lost squad of German soldiers he was their new commanding officer? I think he can handle whatever complications he runs into. Even if it’s an angry French Baker.”

“I forgot about the commanding officer bit... He even had Phillips going for a while on the radio. I’ve never seen that man turn an interesting shade of red when he realized it was Bucky. Just promise me that when we plan the actual wedding we don’t let the Howling Commandos help. They’re allowed to come but they are far, far from the actual planning.”

“I promise,” Steve swore, making a motion across his chest.

Peggy considered for a moment before adding, “Or Howard for that matter.”

“Cross my heart.”

“And we definitely don’t tell them the date until the morning of,” Peggy added.

“Absolutely. They get an invitation or we hire someone to drive them to the venue that morning. Give them the suits at the door,” Steve suggested. “Though, they’re going to find out anyway.”

She followed his gaze to where she could see Falsworth and Gabe lurking behind lampposts, smoke trailing from the cigarettes. Clearly trying to eavesdrop.

“They’re not very subtle,” Peggy chuckled, watching Dernier attempting to blend into the hedge under her window. “You think they’d learn - last time Dernier attempted that, he got stuck.”

When Bucky returned from France the next day, delivering a perfectly intact engagement ring, wrapped in a spare cloth. He handed them over with a large bag of croissants and a story about accidentally becoming an honorary member of the French Resistance. The croissants were delicious and the story was something she could just chalk up to another incident of Bucky being Bucky.

Steve wore the ring on a chain next to his dog tags, claiming he never wanted to risk losing it. The one Howard had created for them sat on his hand, glimmering in the sunlight as he pulled Peggy close and kissed her.