Chapter 21
They returned to a blessedly quiet New York, exhausted, worn out, and in Stark’s case, battered, but they were finally home.
“Would you mind just dropping us off at the tower, Jameson,” Stark called from his seat behind Peggy. His ankle, which apparently did have a hairline fracture, as well as strained muscles and ligaments, was wrapped and booted in a walking cast, and Pepper had been right regarding the cut on his face, but otherwise he was fine. “The landing pad is big enough for the quinjet to park.”
“You got it,” Jake assured him, as they hovered over the glittering New York skyline. Far below, the city looked mostly peaceful, or as peaceful as it ever did. Only the areas that still bore the most physical damage from the Chitauri invasion months ago stood out, painful reminders of the year that they had thus far.
“I’ll call a car for you, Peggy,” Stark followed up. “After the week you’ve had, you don’t need to deal with a cab on Christmas Eve.”
The idea of just being able to climb into a car and go was too good of an opportunity for Peggy to pass up. “Thank you,” she said, quietly, too tired for much more of a comment.
“Of course, you are also welcome to crash at the tower,” Stark offered, genially. “I mean, so you don’t have to spend Christmas by yourself.”
“I will pass, but thank you for the thoughtful offer.” Honestly, Peggy could happily crawl into her bed and not leave it again for the rest of her life. “Besides, I am hoping Steve will be home soon.”
“Fury finally let him and Romanoff off their leash?”
“It appears so.”
Below, the landing pad of Stark Tower came into view. The building was bright in the darkness, lit by Stark’s arc reactor technology, with only the signage still dark, the large “STARK” that had been on the side of the building now gone after the battle with Loki.
“Will you be replacing the name on the outside,” Peggy asked, quietly curious as they came up over the roof of the building.
“Eventually,” Stark admitted. “Though, since your buddy, Alexander Pierce, has given us the go-ahead, I was thinking that maybe we can make a bit of a change.”
Peggy turned in her seat to glance back at him curiously, but the quinjet was already alighting onto the pad, its engines whining as it shut down. An exhausted Pepper roused from where she reclined against Stark’s shoulder, while Banner stood, stretching, groaning after two long, sleepless days.
“Here we go, ladies and gentleman,” Jake quipped, unbuckling himself from the pilot’s seat. “Home at last. Let me help you all get off-loaded.”
They had very little in the way of true luggage to carry off. Stark’s suit, which had been the bulkiest item earlier in the day, was now destroyed. Considering the amount of time and effort Banner and Harley had put into it the night before, it was a damned shame in Peggy’s opinion, but it had served its purpose. Instead, Jake served as a crutch for Stark as he navigated down the gangplank in his walking cast, while Peggy and Banner managed their own rucksacks. Banner was even kind enough to gather Stark’s bags of motley things purchased at the hardware store.
The air was crisp and cold, a far cry from the warm, tropical waters of Miami two hours before. On the air was a damp scent with the promise of snow, as Peggy once again burrowed into her winter coat, feeling distinctly the whiplash of all of her continent hopping over the last two days. To her surprise, standing at the door to the Stark penthouse stood Betty Ross, bundled in a bulky jumper, smiling as they slowly made their way across the slick concrete into the inviting warmth inside.
“Welcome back,” she said, holding open the door to allow Jake to maneuver Stark into the apartment. “Some of you are better off than others, I see.”
“You think this is bad, you should see the other guy,” Stark joked, waving at his now darkly black eye, before pointing to the circle of furniture near the free-standing fireplace. “Just drop me off there, would you?”
Jake did as Stark asked, leading him to the leather couch by the roaring fireplace, as Pepper followed behind. Betty greeted Banner with open arms, as he happily accepted her embrace, clearly relieved to be home.
“Let’s say we order in some Chinese for Christmas Eve,” Stark suggested, as he fell into the couch, looking too tired to bother picking up a phone. “JARVIS!”
“Your regular place is preparing to close soon, sir.”
“Tell them there’s an extra $1000 if they give me my usual order, and tell Tommy I have a bottle of my best bourbon with his name on it.”
“I will do my best, sir,” the AI responded with all the equanimity of his namesake.
“Just saved the world again, I need egg rolls,” Stark muttered, having clearly reached the grumpy stage of his exhaustion. It was very likely he hadn’t eaten any more that day than the rest of them had.
Peggy turned her attention to Betty instead. “How is the work going with Dr. Hansen?”
“Slowly,” she sighed, brushing a hand through her long, dark hair. “I won’t lie, the work she was doing was groundbreaking, far more than I would have thought possible, but the results…”
All of the rest of their eyes turned to Pepper, who shifted on the couch next to Stark. He wrapped an arm around her, holding her tightly. “We will figure it out, honey, I promise. Maybe, give me a day to rest, get some sleep…”
“How about a few days,” she said, looking to Betty. “I’m not going to go nuclear on anyone anytime soon, am I?”
Betty frowned, uncertainly. “I mean, it’s hard to say, but what I do understand from Maya’s research is that if you managed to pass the acceptance stage, you should be fine for now.”
Pepper didn’t look as certain. “I’ll have to trust you on that.”
“We won’t let anything happen,” Banner assured her. “If I can manage the other half of me, I can help you keep that under control, at least until we figure out how to reverse it.”
“See, we all got you,” Stark assured her, cheerfully, shooting Peggy a meaningful look. “Besides, as I’ve been told multiple times today, we are a team. We got each other.”
They did indeed.
“And with that,” Peggy said, shouldering her rucksack once again. “I am going home.”
“JARVIS,” Stark called, but the AI was already prepared with a response.
“The car you ordered is downstairs and waiting whenever Miss Carter is ready to go home.”
“Thank you,” Peggy said, both to JARVIS and to Stark. She turned to Jake. “Will you be heading home, or…”
“I’ll get the quinjet back to SHIELD,” he said, cocking a half smile. “And if Sharon needs me, she’ll give me a call.”
That was Jake’s way of politely telling Peggy to butt out of his relationship with her niece, she concluded. “Well, my work here is done. Happy Christmas to you all.”
A chorus of “Merry Christmas” followed her as she made her way to the door of the penthouse, echoed with a “thank you” from Stark. Peggy wanted to respond, but found herself too tired, as she slipped out of their elegant apartment and to the lifts, the door opening as soon as she walked up to it.
“Home, Mr. Jarvis,” she sighed, leaning her forehead against the cool walls of the elevator.
“Of course, Miss Carter.”
The lobby of the building was silent and dark, save for a lone security guard, with whom she was familiar with. He didn’t seem to be terribly surprised to see her, tipping his hat as he held the door open for her and the waiting black SUV outside. The driver was standing outside, bundled up against the cold, holding open one of the backdoors for her. With a word of greeting, Peggy poured herself in, giving her address as she closed her eyes and willed herself to stay awake long enough to make it to her flat.
The streets were surprisingly hushed for New York, the traffic mild, and they made good time to Peggy’s building. The driver parked, hopping out to allow her out, with holiday wishes as she sent him back on his way. Across the street, Lincoln Center was spangled in white, twinkling lights, as a small flurry of light flakes began to fall from high above.
“Happy Christmas, indeed,” Peggy sighed, turning to go inside. She had meant to spend the holiday in Washington DC with Steve. They were meant to visit Gabe Jones and his family tonight. Instead, she was home, unsure of Steve’s locale at the moment. If he was returning from a mission with Romanoff, chances were high he was back in Washington. She should call him at the least to let him know she was home, safe and sound, but the idea of another minute on the phone felt too heavy. Perhaps, as horrible as it sounded, she would have JARVIS send a message for her instead.
As per usual, the lobby had its overnight staff, including the agent in charge, whose name Peggy couldn’t recall at the moment. They knew her, as they called a greeting to her. “Good job down in Miami, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” she called back, dragging herself to the lifts, hoping she didn’t offend whoever they were. She placed her palm against the sensor to call down the next carriage and waited, impatient to be home.
Her floor was silent and dark, and as she pushed her door open, she was surprised to find her apartment lit, not by the brighter lights that usually came on overhead, but by the soft glow of candles and fairy lights. Confused, she dropped her rucksack onto the floor of the foyer, wandering inside, vaguely wondering what sort of burglar would set up lighting in her home. And was that Christmas music playing?
If he were a burglar, he was in fact a very poor one indeed. In fact, he was in the midst of trying to slip a package under a fully lit and rather fabulously decorated Christmas tree sitting near the cozy fireplace, seemingly unaware she had slipped through the front door.
“My, my, Santa Claus, it seems as if you have been caught,” Peggy drawled, bemused, as she struggled to take in the scene before her. Lights and garland were wrapped around the mantlepiece, while more lights hung at the windows that led out to the balcony. Candles were lit on all manner of surfaces, the room glowing in their soft light. She had no idea where half of them even came from, let alone the fabulous tree that smelled very real indeed.
As for Santa, or Steve as his name happened to be, he hung his head briefly, realizing he had indeed been caught. “I tried to sneak it in here before you came home! I was…a little strapped for time this week to get everything done.”
“Yes you were,” she replied, unwinding her scarf and unbuttoning her coat. “How did you do any of this?”
“Wish I could take that credit, but this was all Cassie, Julio and Juan. When Romanoff said you had the situation in Miami handled, I got her to drop me off here instead. I may have begged Cassie for last minute help. She recruited the other two in the scheme. They brought the decorations, even food. You just missed them, actually.”
“What clever elves you have,” she mused, spinning around in mild awe. “You did all of this for me?”
“Well, they did all of this for us, but yeah.” He flushed, shyly, holding out his hands. “You like it?”
“Like it?” Considering what she had been up to the last few days, like was not the word she would use. “I do believe I am rather in love with you, Captain Rogers.”
That earned her his crooked smile. “It’s a bit more festive than our last Christmas together.”
“Anything would be more festive than a Christmas behind bunkers in wartime London.”
“Still, we made do.”
They had. Howard had flown in cases of French wine which he had somehow neglected to inform the War Department about, as well as small delicacies from home that they could all share. There had been hope in the air that Christmas, a hint that things might soon go their way, that the war might end, and that everyone would soon be able to go home. “Remember our talk that night?”
“I do,” he returned, rounding the sofa to where she stood, still in her worn and rumpled clothing, having not showered or slept really for two days. “We discussed a lot of what ifs that night.”
“Mmm,” Peggy hummed, as she too recalled the pair of them chatting quietly in a small sea of holiday cheer, the hopefulness and hesitancy of their discussion, the quiet longing between them both that someday, not too far in the future, they would be able to finally go dancing, to live a life as not Captain America and Agent Carter, but just Steve and Peggy. There had been a lot of hopes and dreams that Christmas Eve.
“If you could go back, do it different?”
She turned to face him, standing so tall over her now, leaving her breathless. “I guess we will never know, will we? This is the future you and I get in whatever time this is, and if I am in this mad future with aliens, and flaming super soldiers, and whatever else Stark concocts in that brain of his, I’m bloody glad I have you in it. I don’t know if I could manage it all by myself.”
“I don’t know, you were strong before you met me,” he replied, gently taking her hand and pulling her close.
“You were too,” she reminded him, his hand at her waist as he clumsily turned her in rhythm to Bing Crosby crooning about being home for Christmas. “I suppose it’s really a matter of finding that one person who, no matter where we are or what madness we are pulled into, they are always leading us where we need to be.”
“Leading us home,” he asked with a broad smile, unabashed at the correlation to the song being played around them. Peggy found she didn’t care.
“Just so,” she agreed, softly. “You are home.”
His kiss was sweet and ardent, and all thoughts of the last few days fled as she wrapped his arms around his neck and decided that for all of the madness, this moment was worth it.
He pulled away enough to lean his forehead against hers. “Merry Christmas, Agent Carter.”
“The same to you, Captain Rogers,” she sighed, before kissing him again, as snow fell silently outside of her window lined in twinkling lights, and Bing Crosby’s voice crooned through their living room. They were well and truly home, and it was perhaps the best Christmas gift indeed.