One night and morning she'd been on this island, and Peggy could still hardly believe it. She hadn't slept at all, though fatigue had begun to wear her down shortly after dawn. She'd spent hours upon hours detailing their strike on Schmidt's fortress, hours preparing to move forward and fight the actual battle, only to arrive here and spend more time learning about the new land she'd inexplicably arrived in. She'd registered with the council, discovered she had indeed arrived in a tropical paradise, met some of the residents and made use the facilities, though the clothes were not to her taste and she ended up wearing the outfit she'd arrived in. All were, of course, ways to put off the one thing she truly wanted to do.
Just like the last few months of her life, it always came back to Steve Rogers.
It wasn't hard to believe he was alive and well here, and even teaching; Steve would thrive no matter where he was sent, and if anyone deserved a vacation, it was surely him. She'd been warned, of course, that he may be different, that those who arrived on the island could come from different times and, even, universes. That didn't matter; she had to see, with her own eyes, that Steve was alive and well.
Once the afternoon rolled around, Peggy found her stomach tied up in a dreadful series of knots, each emotion stranger and more overwhelming than the last. They'd never gone and said anything, nor had they ever had much more than one kiss. A promise to dance after the war didn't seem to hold up against her new situation, and she questioned whether Steve would even feel the same way for her anymore.
The only thing she could do to answer her questions and settle things once and for all would be to face Steve, and Peggy was no coward. She made sure to arrive at the gallery as his class ended, standing just outside the door as students began to leave. Their curious glances merited only a polite smile, and she waited until there was nothing but the sound of him cleaning up, his measured steps moving around the room, before she entered.
no subject
Just like the last few months of her life, it always came back to Steve Rogers.
It wasn't hard to believe he was alive and well here, and even teaching; Steve would thrive no matter where he was sent, and if anyone deserved a vacation, it was surely him. She'd been warned, of course, that he may be different, that those who arrived on the island could come from different times and, even, universes. That didn't matter; she had to see, with her own eyes, that Steve was alive and well.
Once the afternoon rolled around, Peggy found her stomach tied up in a dreadful series of knots, each emotion stranger and more overwhelming than the last. They'd never gone and said anything, nor had they ever had much more than one kiss. A promise to dance after the war didn't seem to hold up against her new situation, and she questioned whether Steve would even feel the same way for her anymore.
The only thing she could do to answer her questions and settle things once and for all would be to face Steve, and Peggy was no coward. She made sure to arrive at the gallery as his class ended, standing just outside the door as students began to leave. Their curious glances merited only a polite smile, and she waited until there was nothing but the sound of him cleaning up, his measured steps moving around the room, before she entered.
"Steve?"