There were things Peggy wasn't sure she loved about Steve. Things that it was quite possible were very irritating, if she had any objectivity on the subject. Chief and foremost, when she was with him, the indignities of being a woman in a man's world... and most especially, a woman in a man's espionage agency... became mild, trifling concerns. At least, when compared with the frustration of not being able to be his wife, his girl, his anything.
Not in public. Not officially. Not, it sometimes felt like, for real.
It was all perfectly sensible.
She'd
had to convince
him,
in fact. After months of searching, he'd been found, brought back to her like King Arthur returning in Britain's time of need. Only there was no crisis, no war. Just a hole in her heart she thought she'd have to edge around for the rest of her life till it'd been abruptly filled.
So he was back. Hunting HYDRA war criminals, countering Soviet spy rings around the world, while she stayed in New York, working with the SSR. Filing paperwork. No, it was important work—Steve had seen to that, much as she'd stressed she didn't need her battles fought for her—she wasn't in the field, but she correlated intelligence, sifted out clues, saw the big picture like it was all one big chessboard and even Steve was just a knight. Not a pawn, no, but still a piece to be played.
And if the Reds or HYDRA or Leviathan knew what they were to each other, they would target her to get to him. And she would be given some cushy job befitting 'Cap's girlfriend' and it would have nothing to do with her talent and everything to do with keeping her out of the line of fire. And there were a thousand other reasons, a new one for every day she'd had to ask herself why, and they all made sense, bricks in a wall that she couldn't pick at or chisel through. Bricks keeping her and Steve apart.
At least in public. At least during the day. Alone, at night...
Lord Almighty, at night...
Maybe Howard had gotten so drunk he had forgotten it was supposed to be a wedding, and maybe Dugan and half the Howlers had taken their own honeymoon in a brothel that had kept them out of sight for a week, but the little Mexican ceremony had been wedding enough for Steve. What came next had been honeymoon enough for Peggy. For twelve of her.
And Steve had only gotten better. More confident. His blushes and stutters hiding deep inside him now, while his wicked little thoughts grew closer to the surface thanks to her gardening. Became smiles—little gestures—little looks.
At the train station, he greeted her as warmly as an old comrade, and only that warmly, but after they'd clasped hands, his fingers fell from hers ever so slower than they could've. A half-second that made her think he might just damn it all to hell and rip through her dress, down to her slip, down to her skin, have another taste of her because he damn sure hadn't had enough last night. But his fingers pulled away, and she looked up into his warm, steely eyes and found a little wryness that told her it was exactly what he'd wanted her to think.
She tried to listen to Howard's speech. Really, she did. Didn't even let herself stand beside Steve. It was a good speech; what she heard of it. Howard hardly ever paused for laughter, and needed to less than usual. A train from New York all the way to Canada, going right under Lake Ontario. Someday, the same advanced drilling techniques might be used for a train across the Pacific, or to accommodate cables that would relay all kinds of data that might
blah blah blah.
She could follow it, but why would she want to? When she could feel Steve sneaking his glances at her. It made her feel like she was naked, every time. Naked just for him...
For hours they rolled along, the train rocking them as gently as a baby in its crib, denying themselves each other as if they didn't know that would make the temptation stronger. Steve glad-handed with the men, comparing war stories with the few that had served, while Peggy handled the society ladies, sharing make-up tips, stories about Howard Stark. At one point she heard a gale of laughter; Steve telling an anecdote about his first costume fitting.
Finally, they were headed for the grand tunnel Howard had built. Everyone finally left them alone, headed to the windows to look out at the lake through the glass tunnel. The lights were turned down to enhance the view. And Peggy felt Steve's presence at her back.
"A tunnel underneath Lake Ontario," he said, his voice almost high enough to be civil, but mostly low. For her. "Awful long time to be in the dark."
"Shall I hold your hand in case you get scared?" she asked, glancing around to be confident they were ignored. After half a day, they were already yesterday's news. Now the people wanted to see what Stark had cooked up.
"Sure. Just reach back. It's right behind you."
