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Steve sat at his usual spot by her bed. He was fiddling with his newly acquired smartphone, rotating it in his hands. Natasha had given him lessons in how to use it correctly –as she put it– but he couldn’t really get into it. That’s when she called him ‘Grandpa’ for the first time, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory. While his hands kept busy his eyes were glued at Peggy’s face. He hated himself for having missed their lives, what should’ve been their lives. He never regretted his actions though. He regretted not having been there with Peggy, not having seen her grow old, not having seen her become the Director he knew her to be.
His lips quirked upwards as she shuffled ever so slightly on the bed. He closed his eyes in silent prayer. Please be a good day. He immediately chastised himself for being so selfish. She owed him nothing, he should really accept it by now. When he finally made eye contact again Peggy was smiling at him. Steve smiled back at her. It was the most natural exchange; it was what should’ve been.
He tore his eyes away from her, the pain in his chest was too much. Much to his dismay he turned towards the pictures that adorned her bedside table. Pictures of her family. They showed a brief story of her life. In the oldest one she was standing next to who he knew as Angie. They were standing in front of a theater. Angie was incredibly glammed up, even in the faded picture he could see the stage makeup on her face. Her huge grin always made him smile. The marquee read “Staring: Angela Martinelli” under the giant letters of the play’s name. Peggy had told him that was her first Broadway premier. Next to her Peggy stood holding a large bouquet of flowers. The look on her face was nothing but smitten.
Another photo showed Peggy dressed in her dress uniform looking very official. Her hair was elegantly pinned, much like he remembers her being. Her uniform showed how highly decorated she was, and her scowl showed how very little she cared for another medal. His thoughts went back to the conversation they had a few weeks ago. She confided that the only reason that picture was there was because of the fond memories of Angie trying to get her attention so she could take it. Her words rang out in his head. ‘You could stand to look happier English. They’re making you director of SHIELD not torturing a puppy.’
In front of that one stood a picture of both women and two kids. The eldest looked around eight years old while the youngest looked around five. The little one hugged Angie’s leg. She in turn had her hand in the girl’s messy curls. Peggy stood next to her leaning on the boy’s shoulders while he looked at her. He could see the missing teeth in his grin.
There was another picture of the little boy, all grown up now, dressed in a Navy uniform saluting Peggy. A picture of an older Peggy looking adoringly to a bundle in Angie’s arms. A picture of just Angie; her smile was radiant enough to power all of New York. Peggy hadn’t lied when she said she lived a full life. His eyes lingered on a photo of both of them standing at the entrance of a Stark Estate.
“She talked to you, you know.” He snapped out of his reverie. “Angie.” He must have given her a confused look because she immediately continued talking. “She used to talk to your picture, the one I took from your file.” She reached for the photo of a grinning Angie. “She always said it was because I was unbearable or some other nonsense along those lines.” She placed a shaky hand on the photo. “I just think she needed someone who understood.”
“Understood?” His voice was a whisper.
She gave him a nod and a soft laugh. “How to deal with me.” She paused briefly. “I wasn’t an easy gal to live with. Howard got around to calling me ‘Machine Gun’ after we founded SHIELD. He said I always shot out orders rather than suggestions and that she was a saint for being able to share a bed and not strangle me, or something of the sort. He prattled a lot and I got into the habit of tuning him out.”
Steve laughed heartedly. “Like father like son.”
“In a way, yes.” She turned back to the photo in her hands, her wrinkled fingers tracing ghost along it. “He was right about one thing though, she was really a saint.”
-----
1948
Angie walked into their home. Sure, it was still technically Howard’s, but he made sure they knew he had nothing to do with it anymore. ‘It’s the least I can do’ he had said and after Peggy had come clean as to why she was wanted by the SSR she couldn’t agree more.
She dropped her coat on the hanger and walked straight to their room. It had taken them close to two years to come clean and admit their feelings towards each other, but once they did everything fell into place; they moved into the same room a couple of months afterwards. Angie quickly shed her uniform and washed her face. She made her way to the study were she knew Peggy would be residing.
“Hey English.” She said as she reached the doorway threshold. Peggy’s shoulders jerked in surprise and she hastily pilled her papers on top of each other. Angie quickly collapsed on the couch.
“Hello love.” Peggy stands and moves towards the small table that housed several spirits. She poured two glasses and moved towards Angie. “Tough day?”
“You don’t know the half of it.” They gave each other a small peck and Angie grabbed her drink. “Thanks.” She smiled towards the Brit while taking a rather large slurp hissing at the burn in her throat. “The subway ride was horrible going to and from the audition. Once I got there I saw that Jane was also there. So of course she moved to talk to me. And there I was, stuck being polite to the fat-head. So I walk in and do my audition, but I’m so steamed by the time I actually do it, and ugh, it goes terrible.” She paused and groaned into her drink. “Then I took the train ride from hell back to the diner just to be soaked by a car a block and a half away. To make matters worse, costumers were irked ‘cause the new girl, Cyndi, was behind on all her orders. So I got yelled at thrice, a butt slap once, and coffee spilt on me. Let me tell you Pegs, I really needed this drink.”
Peggy frowned at her. “I’m sure your audition went better than you think. And for goodness sakes Angie, if the L&L is too much-” Angie raised a brow and she didn’t dare to finish her sentence. They’d had this conversation many times before. Peggy encouraging Angie to quit her job at the diner so she could focus on her career and Angie yelling back at her ‘Angie Martinelli ain’t a kept woman!’ Peggy focused her energy into the cup in her hand. She let her left hand wander on Angie’s leg, her fingertips tracing from her ankles to her knees. They sat in a comfortable silence.
“You don’t have to do that you know.” Peggy lifted her hand from her leg and looked straight at Angie. “Not that. You can keep doing that.” She smiled and Peggy resumed. “I mean, well, you-” She took a deep breath. “You always hide his picture. Steve.” Much to Angie’s credit her voice did not waver. “I know you two had history. I know you two gave each other strength and guidance when dealing with particularly tough situations. It’s okay that you still look for his guidance.” She moved to sit next to Peggy clutching their hands together. “It’s okay to talk about him. I’m always here for you English. Please never forget that.”
Peggy lifted Angie’s hand to her lips and nodded into her hand. “You’re aces you know.” She did her best to keep her eyes from flooding.
“I know.” Angie smiled at her.
“Cheeky too.” She leaned towards Angie and kissed her fully.
Weeks after their conversation, after a rather tiring day Peggy comes home to find a framed picture of Steve Rogers in the mantel of their living room. There was vase right behind the photograph. Her eyes fell on the bundle of red roses, calla lilies, and blue hydrangeas, all held together by baby’s breath. Peggy smiled a watery smile; Angie had adorned the room with the presence of Steve Rogers.
-----
Two months later
Peggy opened the door as quietly as possible wincing as the floor creaked. She stared to the roundabout waving Jarvis goodbye. She took a deep breath and let out a soft groan. “Bollocks.” She held her ribs as she turned to the empty room. Only the room was not empty.
Angie sat at the armchair, a magazine in on her lap. She pursed her lips and turned the page audibly. Peggy stood frozen staring at the other woman.
“I, uh-”
She lifted her finger at Peggy. “Don’t.” Angie closed the magazine and rather forcibly put it on the coffee table. She turned towards Peggy. “Three a.m. Are you even aware of the time? Don’t answer. ‘I’ll be home in an hour love. An hour and a half tops.’ Yet here you are five hours later. Where were you English?”
Peggy wished she didn’t sound so very gutted. “I can’t say Angie. I really can’t. It’s classified information.”
“It’s always classified information, isn’t it?” Angie stood and face the mantle, her back to Peggy. Peggy took a step closer to her but did not walk any closer. “There’s never a need to tell me where she is. None at all. It’s not like I will be worried or anything. Right? Why would I care?” She sighed deeply. “Please give me the patience to accept the things I cannot change.” She placed her hand in front of Steve’s picture. “I really don’t know how you did it in an active war zone.” It’s barely above a whisper, but the silence carried her voice to Peggy’s ears. Angie walked towards the stairs, she turned towards Peggy before leaving the room. “Any cuts that need mending?” Peggy shook her head not trusting herself to speak. Angie nodded in response. “’Member to grab ice for those.” She pointed at Peggy’s ribs with her chin.
“Ma’am, yes ma’am.”
Angie rolled her eyes. “Just be hasty and come to bed. I need to wake up in less than four hours.”
-----
1950
Angie paced in front of the mantel. “She’s wearing a cast and she can barely open her eye!” She groaned letting her hands wrap around her head. “I’ve been trying to give her space Steve, I have. She goes gallivanting off in the middle of the night and I don’t say anything. I sit and pray she makes it back in one piece. Half the time I don’t even know if she’s still in the country!” She stopped pacing. “I know, I know, she has no control over her mission locations.”
“She’s also sorry for making you worry.” Angie turned at the sound of her voice. She hadn’t noticed she was yelling, but it must’ve woken Peggy up. Peggy limped closer to her. “I really am Ang, you deserve so much more than,” She waved her good hand on over herself. “well, this.”
“Pegs I-”
“I know you didn’t sign up for this.” Her eyes were searching for something on Angie’s face, whatever it was she seemed to find it. “I understand if you’re don’t-”
“English, are you telling me to leave?” Her voice was a whisper.
“No! I would never. I love you Angie. I would never. I swear. I’m just-”
Angie nodded in comprehension. “You’re givin’ me an out.” A guilty look washed over Peggy’s face. Angie turned back to Steve’s picture. “Can you believe her?” She scoffed as she turned back towards Peggy. “Giving me an out. Guarda questo sciocco. I swear. Look English, you’re stuck with me until you don’t want to be ‘cause I’m afraid I’m wacky for you and if I ever leave it won’t be out of my own volition.” She wiped the tears rolling out of Peggy’s good eye. “Go back to bed you ditz, I’ll bring you some ice for that eye.”
Peggy left the room to the sound of Angie’s voice. “Yeah, yeah, yeah patience is a virtue. Shut up, Steve.”
-----
1954
“What’s got you all riled up?” Angie sat across her girlfriend. Peggy was staring daggers at the phone.
“Howard.”
“As in Stark?”
“Who else? When he said he wanted to start SHIELD I told him I wouldn’t be strutted like a show dog. Turns out he made an appointment with the Governor’s office to get us a commendation. When I told him no he said that ‘a decorated veteran would give SHIELD some recognition’. The nerve! Don’t you dare laugh Angie.”
“I’m sorry English but Howard? With the look on your face you would’ve thought you’d be face to face with some of those bad guys you’re always fighting. But Howard?” She laughed again. “You hear that Stevie! She’s mad at Howard, as if that were something new.”
Peggy stared at her ludicrous girlfriend. She had gotten used to Angie talking to Steve when it regarded her. Her usual routine of talking to his picture had evolved throughout the years. She no longer needed to be next to his image to direct herself towards him. She found it endearing, most of the time at least. Other times, much like today, she found it annoying. Okay, it was still endearing.
“I guess her ill temper is part of why we love her isn’t it Steve-o.”
Scratch that, it was maddening.
-----
4th of July
Angie was slaving over her ‘America Pie’ as she called it when Peggy walked into the kitchen.
“Look who decided to wake up. You’d think she’d be more willing to help knowing it’s your birthday and all. I guess it must be that Britishness, no appreciation for freedom.”
Peggy picked a blueberry from the pile Angie had next to her newly formed pie crust.
“Smettila! Go make yourself useful and wash those strawberries or something.”
“Is there any breakfast?”
“Senza vergogna.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Peggy bit down her smile as Angie continued to mutter under her breath. “You see this Steve? She wakes up late and only thinks about eating. Here we are slavin’ over a hot stove and questa comes in to rush us. For shame.”
-----
Peggy snapped out of her memory. She smiled fondly at Steve and he returned her smile. She tapped Angie’s picture, smiling down at the woman who had given her so many precious moments. “She deserved better.” Her eyes threaten to spill over. “She deserved so much better than me.” She paused. “She talked to you.” She made eye contact with him again. “It might’ve started out of necessity. I was always too busy and too unreachable. So she talked to you. She was asking for guidance. I caught on embarrassingly too late, but I managed to. Oh, don’t make that face boy. We had amazing lives. And when I wasn’t there for her you were. You were there for both of us. You helped her, and for that I’m grateful.”