Helloooo, everyone! It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, but that’s mostly because the list of book reviews and character interviews I need to work on has gotten pretty intimidating.
But, while I work on those, I might as well give you something to enjoy. Because everyone likes some Captain America fanfiction, right? Titleless as of yet, I think you’ll still enjoy it. Oh, and this takes place right after the Marvel One-Shot Agent Carter, but you’ll still get it if you haven’t seen it. 😉
Peggy searched the small crowd for a familiar face.
“Peggy! Over here!” Howard’s voice called out. She pushed her way towards him and fell into a slightly awkward hug. “How has Flynn been treating you?”
Peggy smiled. “Let’s just say I’m glad to be done with him. How’ve you been?”
He shrugged, but she detected a hint of sorrow on his face. “Pretty good.” He averted his gaze. “Well, let’s drop your bags off in the hotel and head out for something to eat. Maybe some–” He stopped, and it wasn’t that hard to guess what he was going to say.
“I’d love some fondue,” Peggy said cheerfully, the fakeness carefully hidden. “You know you don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, Howard.”
He nodded and picked up her bags. “Right. Well, let’s get going.”
The hotel wasn’t too far, and Howard told her it was only temporary, until SHIELD was officially started and she had time to look for a house. After eating, Howard dropped her off at the hotel, and she retired early. The next morning, Howard took her on a tour of the building that he’d purchased for SHIELD. The tour was achingly long, and then Howard got an odd look on his face and stopped by a door. “This is your office,” he announced, opening the door.
Peggy stepped inside, gazing around at the beautiful room. The desk was beautiful, and Howard had been thoughtful enough to put a few special touches on the room, including a picture of Steve on the desk. She touched the frame, gazing down at the tall, muscular man in the picture.
“I’ll just leave you alone,” Howard said quietly, slipping out of the office. Peggy sat in the leather office chair, setting down the briefcase she’d brought with her. She opend it and set a smaller frame next to the picture. Steve, skinny. Before and after.
She closed her eyes and reached into her briefcase again. She dug around until she found her pocket knife. Then she flipped it open, found an unobtrusive corner of the desk and carefully drew the knife across its surface.
Seventy Years Later
The carving had been worn and smoothed by time. The letters hadn’t disappeared, the handwriting achingly familiar. His finger traced the word. Steve.
If she could’ve known that he’d be reading this years later, decades later, would she have put more? Would she have written something to him? Would she have left her feelings, her thoughts, her love, just a simple note?
If only he could go back.
A lone tear trickled down his cheek and landed on the desk.