Layer on Layer

“A painting requires a little mystery, some vagueness, and some fantasy. When you always make your meaning perfectly plain you end up boring people”
― Edgar Degas

“So, did I tell you?” Steve asked while they both worked on a salad to go with their takeout. He had insisted they add something healthy to the mix, especially once she mentioned she’d been living on leftovers at work during all her late nights and early mornings. “Bucky got a new therapist.”

“He did?” she asked, sneaking bits that were meant to go into the salad bowl. It wasn’t her fault she was starving and their delivery was taking forever. “Good for him.”

“Yeah. He’d been complaining about the guy for a while. They just didn’t connect. When he mentioned it to Sam, he wouldn’t let Bucky waste good opportunities on useless appointments. It worked.”

“Yes, Sam’s good at that,” she said with a smile. “Speaking of Bucky, how about we try for dinner this week? He could pick the restaurant. Or bar.”

“No bars,” Steve replied firmly.

“Right,” she said. “No bars. But anywhere.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll ask him,” Steve said, nodding as he added onions to the bowl. “So Sam recommended someone. Bucky’s gone twice this week. He said the new therapist was okay. From Bucky, about therapy, that’s high praise.”

“Well, good. I’m glad he finally found something that’s working better for him. I’m so glad you were able to convince him to go to Sam’s talk.”

Steve sighed and set aside his knife. “He’s been… I can’t explain it. He feels more like the Bucky I grew up with. Obviously neither of us can take back the past, but I don’t know… It just feels right again.” She leaned over to squeeze his hand. “Did I mention how grateful I am that you set that thing up with Sam?”

Peggy smiled at the earnest praise. “Yes, Steve. You mentioned it several times. Even after I reminded you that you didn’t need to thank me. I’m just glad you found the event useful.”

“Course I did. It was so well put together, thanks to you.”

“Thanks darling, but I only set out the larger scheme. Sam and his colleagues did all the heavy lifting.”
“I dunno. Sam said you pulled out incredible funding sources on short notice and managed to get all but one program you wanted on the schedule,” he replied. “Besides, I love that the idea came to you in the first place. And you found a way to fund it so that thousands of vets could attend.”

“Thousands?”

“Yeah. Didn’t Sam tell you? He said that over the four days there was something like two thousand people.”

Since meeting, Steve and Sam Wilson had kept in touch. Between Sam’s talks and chatting during an art therapy demo, a spark of kinship reached between them. Sam had even went out for burgers and beer with Steve on one of his free afternoon’s before returning to D.C. It was easy to understand, with Sam’s easygoing personality and their similar military history. In fact, she was glad there was a connection at all. She had been worried that pushing Steve to the conference would cause friction, especially if he didn’t have a pleasant experience. She worried he’d read the invitation not as a supportive hand, but a judgment on his coping.

“Yes, yes I do remember something like that from his email.” Sam had sent her a very sweet thank you email once he’d returned to D.C. But it had been hard to keep track of even her work emails, as the priorities on her active missions board stacked up the past few days. She’d been pulling sixteen hour days too many days in a row.

“Two thousand,” Steve repeated. “That’s thanks to you Peg.”

She rolled her eyes even though she was fighting a smile. Steve of course, noticed, and specifically pulled her into his side and kissed her with a proud smile.

Her sixteen hour days grew longer, and she stopped even making it home most nights to sleep. First there was a potential security leak. Then came Thompson’s botched interrogation, causing massive blowback and paperwork for Peggy. And in the middle of that, they got another hit on HYDRA. Her hands were full.

When she did make it home, it was only thanks to Steve that she was able to relax for a short moment. He never failed to hold her tight when she walked right into his arms, and he was constantly jumping up to make her a cup of tea or heat up a quick meal. Both were nice, but what she sought the most was his touch. Sometimes, all she’d have time for was a quick nap on the couch, often in Steve’s lap as he rubbed her back. It was enough to prop her back up before heading back into the thick of it.

She hit her limit one evening after Thompson and a few of his lackeys who still believed that he deserved her promotion, called a meeting with the board that of course went nowhere because she is damned good at her job. Still the chauvinistic barbs made their mark, and stung more than she had expected. Sure, Thompson was an asshole, but she thought at this point, after months on her team, and the amount of ass-saving she had done on his behalf, he would have a shred of humility. Apparently she set her expectations too high.

That night instead of letting Steve be the one to fill the silence, she couldn’t seem to stop complaining.

“…and after all I’ve done for that ungrateful prat? How dare he?”

She couldn’t help fuming. She couldn’t do it at work. And it didn’t seem fair to call up a busy Angie just to complain. And Howard had already listened to her for ten minutes, which was ten minutes more than she had expected of him. Holding Howard’s attention for ten consecutive minutes was a mean feat for a woman he wasn’t trying to sleep with, or discussing one of his inventions. He’d been sympathetic, patted her on the arm and brought out a bottle of whiskey for her, but she was too angry to even want a drink. She just wanted to vent. And quite possibly to punch someone.

That left Steve, even though she had to edit out the classified details.

“I know Peg, he’s out of line.”

“And then to blame his mistakes on my sensitivity due to PMS?!” She growled, crossing her arms tightly. “Do you know how much I’ve done for him?”

Steve stood up from the couch and held out his palms. She stared at him blankly.

“Come on, up you get Carter,” he said with a lopsided smile.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“You’re doing nothing for my nerves Steven.”

He chuckled and led her into her bedroom, kissing the top of her head before telling her to lie down.

“Are you trying to shut me up by seducing me?”

“Maybe next time Peg,” he said, gently helping her to the middle of the bed. “Shirt off, and on your stomach.”

“Are you sure—”

“Massage, Peggy. I’m going to give you a massage so you can relax and stop stressing about you’re asshole coworkers for a few minutes.”

She grinned up at him, tossing her button down at him, which he easily caught and folded. “Have I mentioned how lovely you are today?”

“No, but I think it was implied in comparison to those jerks you work with.”

“You have no idea.”

While Steve padded into the bathroom, she decided to rid herself of the tight skirt too, slipping instead into her favorite soft jersey shorts. She unhooked her bra, but waited for Steve’s reappearance before setting it aside. He came back in with a towel, and her favorite body lotion, bless the man. She raised her eyebrow at him and then pulled her unhooked bra from her chest. Steve swallowed hard, but it didn’t take long for his gaze to settle at her eyes instead. She quirked her brow again, more purposefully.

“I thought I was supposed to be seducing you, not the other way around,” he said.

“Is it working?”

“Peggy,” he said in a particularly low tone that sent shivers down her spine. She slid her palms further behind her and bit her lip, batting her lashes innocently at him. Steve cleared his throat, making her grin, and then he frowned at her, which only amused her more. “I thought I told you to lie down on your stomach.” He propped his arm on his hip.

She snorted. “Yes, yes, alright, following your orders, sir.”

Lying down did feel heavenly. The moment her head hit the pillow, her eyes closed and she sighed in peace. She felt lips against her spine.

“You know you don’t have to do anything in particular to seduce me Peggy,” Steve murmured against her back.

She hummed lazily. “Apparently I do, if stripping for you didn’t work.”

He growled before pressing another kiss, higher up. “You know that’s not true. And anyway, I think you need a massage more.”

She was about to protest. How could he think he knew better than she did about what she needed more? The complaint melted away as Steve’s warm hands started a gentle trail down her shoulders. She immediately let out a little pleased sigh. She’d always admired his hands, drawn to his delicate and adept fingertips, and even more so when they pressed firmly into her shoulder blades. Tension she hadn’t realized she had been holding revealed itself, and she groaned as his fingers circled.

Steve hummed. “See? Told you that you were tense.”

Any remaining thoughts or complaints she had drifted out of reach. She focused on the circular motions, on the sensation of skin against skin.

Before she knew it, it was morning, or near enough. Four a.m. A few strips of light filtered in through the windows. Steve was lying next to her. She was still bare from the waist up. He had massaged her until she had literally fallen asleep. She eyed him fondly, studying him carefully in sleep as she often did. Her sweet boyfriend. She felt very loose and for once, well rested.

She could have gotten up and showered for an early start at work, but her falling asleep had cut her time with Steve short. Instead she curled into him, bare chest against bare chest, listening to Steve’s snuffles as he readjusted himself around her. She spent a good twenty minutes just enjoying the closeness before she forced herself out of bed and back to her daily grind, but not before pressing feather-light kisses to Steve’s cheek.

She’d been in her office an hour, getting plenty of work done in the relative peaceful early morning, at least for SHIELD standards, when Steve sent her a text consisting of a frowny face and a “miss you.” The idea of Steve waking up alone in her bed, trying to reach for her when she wasn’t there caused a strong sudden urge to march herself right back home and make good of a morning in bed with boyfriend. Of course, she couldn’t do that. Still… it was early, and she had knocked out a chunk of her day’s work already.

If you make it in half an hour, I can squeeze in a quick breakfast with you before I have to head downtown for a meeting.

          I’ll be there!

They met for bagels and coffee, both of which Peggy had already ordered by the time Steve stepped inside, his hair still damp. A smile bloomed on her face the second she spotted him. A few hours and she’d already missed him. She should feel silly, but then Steve smiled back and slid into the seat across from hers.

“Here,” she said, sliding over his bagel and coffee. “An ‘I’m sorry I fell asleep on you last night’ apology breakfast.”

Steve grinned. “You needed the sleep.” He took a big bite of his bagel. “And look, I got a free breakfast out of it.”

She swatted him. Once the bagels were finished, she insisted they take their coffees outside. She had a few more minutes to spare, and she didn’t want to leave his side just yet. Peggy tucked her free hand into the crook of his arm, and they set off on a slow walk in the direction of the subway stop Steve needed.

“I forgot to ask. Did you ask Bucky about dinner?” she asked once the subway stop came into view.

Steve made a noncommittal noise. “He said he’ll really feel like a third wheel if we all go out to dinner. Something about not wanting to feel awkward squished into a dark corner of a romantic restaurant with us.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “It didn’t have to be anywhere fancy. For heaven’s sake we can go to the McDonalds in Time Square if he’s worried.”

“He avoids Time Square. Too many people. Too much stimuli.”

“Yes, of course.” She sighed. “My point was, neither of us is overly affectionate in public. He knows that right?”

Steve shrugged. “I told him. But he’s never seen us together, so…”

“Well remind him. Make sure you’re clear on the fact that he can pick any place he’s comfortable with.”

“I will,” he replied solemnly, stopping just short of the subway station to pull her into a hug. “We’ll figure it out. Thanks for breakfast.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you for the massage.”

They get used to dates at odd hours and every time Steve assured her it’s worth it, even to see her for a few minutes. She felt a surge of affection every single time he showed up.

Once, it’s an obscenely early breakfast at a 24-hour diner. It’s her dinner actually. She had told Steve she would be pulling a long night before going home for a nap sometime near morning. He specifically insisted they meet for coffee and food, no matter the hour. She thought it was a terrible imposition, but he insisted he’d be going to sleep early anyway so the early hour wouldn’t bother him.

At near half past four in the morning, they met in a booth, Steve wearing a hoodie and his work jeans, having already ordered her a cup of coffee. She threw her arms around him, snuggling into the cotton, the second they left the diner. Somehow, beyond all odds, she was able to be vulnerable with Steve, to let him hold her when she needed it. And to admit to that, to allow it, made a tremendous effect on her own mental health. He had taken her home, holding her up as she faded, and tucked her in before he headed out to his jobsite.

Another time it was a sugar break during his lunch break. Their date lasted all of twenty-two minutes before Peggy received an urgent call that sent her back to the office before she could even kiss him properly goodbye. Steve took all the odd dates with stride, always managing to cheer her up for at least a moment.

“Did you modify that tracker for Sousa?” Peggy asked Howard before their latest team meeting.

“Only in about ten minutes,” Howard huffed.

Only a Stark could be upset over how quickly a gadget or piece of tech could be developed. His smugness was irritating, sure, but when it came to engineering, he never let her down. However, for the sake of her wellbeing, she could never let him know that, for certainty of his ego getting stuck up his ass. Again.

“Great, I appreciate that Howard. It’s the last piece of prep before Sousa goes undercover.

He nodded absently, scratching at his moustache. “You really gotta give me something more substantial to work on Peg. It’s been a whole summer of easy fixes. I need something to sink my teeth into.”

She blinked, biting back a retort that would certainly send her down the rabbit hole of Howard’s romantic affairs, something she was keenly avoiding at all costs. Still… There was a lovely image in her head of Steve in her bed. And her couch. And shower.

“Believe it or not Howard, it is not my job to keep you amused. What happened to all those inventions your genius cannot contain?”

He pouted and crossed his arms. “All great artists have rough patches.”

She hummed knowingly. “And this has nothing to do with a certain rejection not that long ago.”

“Arlene did not reject me!” He scoffed. “Believe me. She knows exactly what she gave up.”

She made a face. “It’s been what, months? Move on. Why don’t you find a woman you can have a substantial conversation with? You want to be stimulated? Stop fooling around with dead ends.”

“See the fooling around bit is the best part.” He grinned saucily, and she did not find it amusing.

“Alright. Out,” she said with a point of her finger. “Out of my office.”

“Aw, come on Peg. You’re a woman I can have substantial conversation with.”

She rolled her eyes at his meek compliment. “And you always ruin it.”

He smirked at her. “You know you love me.”

She had a bit of a lull on an afternoon that Steve also happened to have free. They sat on a park bench, beneath a canopy of trees sipping iced coffees, while Steve told her that Bucky turned down the idea of dinner out for the second time.

“Is there some reason he doesn’t want to meet me?”

“I think he just feels weird about the situation. Buck and I weren’t so good up until a few weeks ago. And it’s the first time that I’ve had a girlfriend when he didn’t. So overall, all pretty new for both of us.”

Peggy bit her lip. “Which is part of the reason I think we should finally meet. Get it out of the way and get back to normal. I mean I don’t fancy flipping him off on the street somewhere and then finding out that’s how I met the most important person in your life two years down the road.”

Steve grinned so widely his cheeks seemed to burst.

“What?” she asked, hand on her hip, brow raised.

“Nothing,” he said innocently, his face betraying him.

“Okay that’s it. Dinner. We are having dinner. He does family dinners, then this will be a family dinner. He can’t object to that. Just the three of us, in my redone dining room. We will all even sit on different sides of the table. That way there will be no fraternization. And absolutely no mood lighting.”

“You’re going to cook?”

She crossed her arms, the raised brow reaching dangerous territory. “What are you trying to imply Steve Rogers?”

He grinned. “Just that you’re a very busy woman.”

She frowned. “Fine. I’ll get help. Now go tell him this is a mandatory invitation. And ask him what he wants to eat.”

“Are you sure this is okay Peg?”

“Yes I am sure Steven.” Her frown puckered deeper. “And tell him if he turns me down again, I am going to call his mother.”

He burst into laughter. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her hard, grasping the back of her neck to deepen it.

“Thank you,” he whispered in between kisses.

She cleared her throat. “You’re welcome.”

“Ms. Carter, forgive me for saying so,” Jarvis said, “but you seem quite…flustered. Can I be of any assistance?”

Peggy was waiting for Howard and their guest to arrive. One of his military contacts had agreed to talk about the HYDRA development, but opted for a more discrete location, and Stark’s penthouse was more than suited for his taste. In the meantime, she had been scrolling through her tablet for recipes.

She nearly growled. “I don’t see how I’m expected to have the patience for concocting a dinner.”

“Is this for some foreign dignitary?”

“No,” she barked, “it’s for meeting Steve’s best friend. They’re practically brothers, and I have yet to meet him and he’s already being difficult,” she complained with her arms crossed.

Jarvis perked up. “I’d be more than delighted to help you Ms. Carter! As you know, I have quite the discerning taste, particularly for dinner parties.”

“It’s nothing fancy Mr. Jarvis. It’s meant to be intentionally casual. Austere even. Apparently, it can have no discernable hint of romance, as to not upset the best friend.” She rolled her eyes. “Comfort food is the theme.”

“I have quite the talent for elevating mashed potatoes,” Jarvis said modestly.

She sighed, but then looked at her friend feeling more than a little stressed. “You really wouldn’t mind?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he said smiling. He immediately went to tie a flower-patterned apron around his waist, returning with his glasses on and a cookbook in hand. “Now, can I make a suggestion for dessert? I found a lovely recipe for chocolate cake in one of Ana’s new baking books. Simple but sheer heaven on a plate.”

Peggy bit her lip to keep from laughing, and hoped it didn’t show how excited she was at the prospect of homemade cake.

“That sounds perfect, really.” She sighed. “I just… This is really important to Steve, and as annoyed as I may be, I do want to make this as best as I possibly can.”

Jarvis nodded reverently. “A well-executed menu for a dinner party can make all the difference in the world. Not to worry Ms. Carter, we shall have a nice unfussy, casual dinner.”

“I would be endlessly grateful, Mr. Jarvis.”

He smiled triumphantly. “Does this mean I can take part in your next adventure?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Well then I suppose, perhaps I can make a request instead?”

“What sort of request?”

“Well, Mrs. Jarvis and I will be celebrating our ninth wedding anniversary next month, and I have been figuring out my plans for a perfect gift. I was wondering if perhaps you could ask your gentleman if he’d be willing to paint me something especially for Ana. You see, I showed her the photos of your wall of poppies, and Ana just loved it so much. It reminded her of our honeymoon in Hungary. We had a lovely time in this beautiful cottage surrounded by fields of flowers.” Jarvis sighed a little at the memory, his face gone soft. “I would of course pay him. I only hoped to receive permission.”

“It’s up to Steve, but Mr. Jarvis, of course you can ask,” she said. “However I will happily nudge him to a yes,” she added with a smile.

“Oh, wonderful. Thank you Ms. Carter.” He picked up a pen and a little notebook from his pocket. “Now for the menu…”

The night before dinner, Peggy still had plenty she hadn’t managed to do earlier in the week. Even Jarvis helping with the cooking, didn’t seem to make her less stressed. She had forgone cleaning for too long, and all the household chores had stacked up. Luckily Steve was very agreeable in helping when he had come over to see her. He helped her set up to the perfect specifications, including helping her clear out her bar of any visible alcohol.

“If he doesn’t show—” she had said through gritted teeth, as she passed Steve another bottle to put away.

“Don’t worry, I need to go change at home so I will make sure Bucky doesn’t talk his way out of coming.”

She harrumphed with fierce indignation. She’d been in the kitchen way too long for her liking. Steve kissed her cheek.

“Have I mentioned that I’m really grateful for this even though you really did not need to go to all this effort?”

She leaned into his next kiss at her jaw. “I’ll be damned if this isn’t exactly as Bucky needs it to be. I refuse to allow any argument.”

“So,” Steve started as they set away her table cloth and china, “what do you do? I mean… Not… What do you tell people?”

She quirked her eyebrow at him. “Usually I work for the government does the trick.”

“But with people you know? That you like. That don’t already know you from work.”

She pondered, because the reality is that her work was isolating. Until Angie, there had been very few true friendships outside of the military, and SHIELD. Suddenly, staring at her boyfriend, a miracle of a boyfriend honestly, given how few people like him she even allowed herself to open up to, she realized she was coming to an age where the isolation was jarring. There were none of the natural friendships that came with other walks of life, like picking up a group while a schoolgirl in London. There was a reason women her age flocked bars knowing that at the very least it was an accepted ritual of trying to meet someone so you’d feel less alone, even for a night.

“I… Suppose it hasn’t come up in a while,” she admitted. Even with Angie, she had sort of been dragged into it. Besides, Angie was special, and the trust was implicit. “Governmental taskforce with a focus on domestic and international security,” she quotes, knowing it’s more a description than a title. “Benign enough, given the state of the world today. And wordy enough to be incomprehensible. Most everyone assumes I’m an office assistant or a low-grade analyst.”

“I don’t see how they could.”

She patted his cheek affectionately. “Not everyone has been along for the ride, Steve.”

He grinned brightly for a moment before dropping it in a façade of innocence. “I have no idea what you mean ma’am. I hear you’re an analyst.”

She snorted. “Well done darling,” she said. “I imagine your friend isn’t an idiot, but I’m sure you understand why I cannot outright tell him what I do.”

“I do. Really. Which is why I wanted to be on the same page beforehand.”

Steve leaned in with a serious expression. “Listen, Peggy,” he said, “if you ever need me for anything like that one night again… I know you have… resources. But if for whatever reason you’re short, please call. No questions asked.”

She bit her lip and stared at him. It was a very nice security blanket to have an ex-military boyfriend she knew she could call if she ever got into a mess. Not that she wanted to drag him into any of that again.

“Steve—”

“If there’s any outstanding circumstances,” he amended, cutting off her refusal. “I don’t expect you to need help. I just want to be clear that if you ever need it, I’m in.”

She bit her lip, but nodded. They returned to working in the kitchen, fixing up the things Jarvis wouldn’t be providing.

“So,” he said in a light tone, as if the seriousness hadn’t happened, “have you been to a baseball game yet? And a Yankees game doesn’t count.”

“I thought all you Yanks liked the Yankees,” she teased.

He held out the mixing spoon in his hand, pointing it seriously at her. “You are speaking blasphemy to a Brooklyn-born guy.” She couldn’t help but laugh at his serious tone. “That’s it. We’re going to a Mets game.”

“But I’m a Manhattan girl,” she said innocently, batting her eyelashes at him purposefully.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him making her shriek, warm lips kissing her the side of her neck.

Peggy had everything all set to go when Steve texted her that he and Bucky were on their way. As promised, she wore nothing that would allow Bucky to misconstrue the atmosphere, even though Steve promised Bucky understood the point of the dinner. She had changed out of her pencil skirt and blouse into jeans and a plain top. Just a casual meal of comfort food like mashed potatoes and mac and cheese.

Mostly though, she just hated the waiting. She was unused to hosting events in her loft, even if she certainly had the real estate for entertaining. For something that was meant to be low-key and unceremonious, it had become quite a production in its own way.

Finally, there was a knock at the door. She tucked her hair behind her ears, took a breath and headed to the door.

Next to Steve stood a man nearly as tall, with dark hair and a serious expression. He looked mildly uncomfortable but gave her a tight smile.

“Peggy, this is my best friend Bucky. Buck this is Peggy," Steve said with an easy grin, rocking back on his heels.

"It's nice to finally meet you Bucky," she said.

"Nice to meet you too," he replied politely, holding out his right hand for her to shake, though she noticed he seemed to be angling his left side away from her.

"Come in, come in," Peggy said, waving them inside.

Bucky shifted his hands into his pockets and took a look around. Peggy shared a look with Steve who nodded which she took to signal that everything was going okay.

"Nice place. Really nice," Bucky said.

"Thank you. Of course, I can't really take any credit for it. The owner recently ordered the remodel. I really had no say in the matter."

He nodded. "When Steve worked here you mean."

"Yes," she said, leading them further into the living room. "Shall we do a tour?"

"Sure," Steve said quickly. "You can show off the leaf you painted."

She rolled her eyes. "Or not. But, your work is lovely, I'm sure he'd like to see that."

Bucky followed them towards the wall of poppies. She even opened the door into her bedroom to show off Steve's handiwork in it as well. She finished the tour in the dining room, showing them to the table set with only basic dishware and nothing else, lest Bucky take a look at placemats or centerpiece and call her on it. While Steve and Bucky chose seats across from each other, Peggy headed back into her kitchen for drinks.

She didn't know what to make of Bucky, who hadn't talked much, and she wondered if she was making any sort of impression at all. She did find it interesting to see that he looked like he had taken more care of his appearance than either she or Steve had, looking much more put together in his short-sleeved button up than she did in her t-shirt. She'd have to ask Steve later if he did so on his own, or if Steve had urged him to do so. It oddly felt like a lot was riding on this meal, which unnerved Peggy more than any state dinner, or work-dinner she had ever attended.

The room wasn’t tense, exactly, but a bit stiff, and the conversation too polite. She kept looking carefully between the two men sitting on each side of her. She deliberated the appropriate tactic to lighten the mood.

It was once the mac and cheese had been doled out, and Bucky had taken a few bites that he was the one to break the silence.

“How’d you two meet exactly?” he asked.

“You know how,” Steve pointed out. “We met here.”

“Right. But like specifically?” he asked. “Because I have a hard time imagining you talking to her first.”

Peggy bit her lip trying to hide an amused smile that might embarrass Steve.

“Um… I mean in the elevator I guess. She was coming home from work.”

“That’s his side. I can’t say I noticed until he followed me literally to my front door, which you can imagine was odd, granted I didn’t know about the construction yet.”

Bucky nodded. “So when did you first talk?”

“That day. He came into my bedroom to start painting while I was packing up to stay elsewhere.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. He was very polite, looked away while I packed my underwear.”

“I—But…” Steve sputtered.

Bucky snorted.

“I asked about the paint colors, making a joke about Humphrey Bogart naming them, and he replied with a Casablanca quote, and well, I guess we kept at it from that.”

She noticed that Steve was blushing furiously in his seat, and Bucky was smirking at him with mirthful eyes. She didn’t mind. This was much more enjoyable then the polite chatter about weather.

“So…” Bucky started, stabbing his fork into his chicken, and then using it to point between them, “how much do you hate his chinos?”

Peggy chewed, thinking. Something in his tone made everything suddenly clear to her. It might have been meant to be a casual meetup of two of the people he cared a lot about on Steve’s end, but for the girlfriend and the best friend, this meeting was a testing ground. And Bucky had just made that clear from his end.

She took a sip of her water and pointedly shrugged. “As long as Steve’s comfortable,” she said in her perfected casual breeze. It was clear Bucky was protective of Steve, that he was still worried about mean-spirited girls, echoes of rejections he’d faced in the past. She couldn’t fault him for his concerns, especially given how protective she was of him herself. “And his bum looks incredible in and particularly out of them, so…”

Steve coughed, while Bucky dropped his fork with a clattering sound against the ceramic plate. Bucky eyed her square in the eye, shock all over his face, and she quirked her eyebrow at him as if confused. Bucky’s amusement won out and he sniggered with a smirk. Steve had turned a bright blushing red.

“Alright there darling?” she asked casually. “Careful, the mac and cheese is particularly dense.” She patted his back. “Though, I have to be honest and say I’m fonder of his work jeans perhaps because they’ve had my attention for longer.” She turned her attention back to her own plate, pretending she didn’t see the looks exchanged between the boys.

One for Ms. Carter, she thought to herself, having a hard time holding back a mirthful grin of her own. Instead, she slipped her hand momentarily over Steve’s knee for a squeeze, before picking up the napkin in her lap daintily.

“So what is it that you do? Steve was kind of vague,” Bucky asked.

“I work for the government. A nonprofit, if you wish, for certain contemporary challenges of our time.”

“Oh? Yeah?” Bucky asked, as if trying to gleam more from her words. “What challenges are you working on in particular?”

“Oh, international and domestic security, foremost. Organized crime syndicates and terrorist cells. Increased technological warfare capabilities. That sort of thing,” she said in just the same casual breeze as before.

It wasn’t false. And there were certainly think tanks and nonprofits that did such work. She just happened to work for an elite, secretive intelligence organization.

Bucky blinked at her looking shocked, at then took a long look at Steve, who was staring down at his mashed potatoes with a little too much interest. She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Bucky looked back at her with a knowing expression.

“You’re kidding, right?” he said, but it seemed to be directed more so at Steve.

Steve looked up from his plate with a neutral smile, shot a quick glance at Peggy and then focused back down at his plate.

Let it be known, that Peggy Carter was not one to discount Bucky as any sort of idiot. Not with his history. She arched her brow at him, daring him to continue in his inquiry. Bucky swore under his breath, reached for his glass of water and took a big gulp.

“No wonder you like her,” Bucky finally said.

Steve blushed at that.

“Well, I’m quite certain he likes me for lots of reasons. There’s a quite a few just at the top of my head,” Peggy replied, swilling her own drink.

Bucky let out a laugh. “Oh, I can guarantee that,” he said. “He’s an all or nothing guy.”

Yes, that was exactly what Steve was. And that was exactly how she liked it. She’d never been one for doing things by halves herself.

“We share that quality,” Peggy said.

Bucky directed a grin at her and then, he reached his glass across the table to clink it against hers. Whatever test he had been giving her, she was pretty certain she just passed it.

The conversation flowed from there, everyone’s sitting position far more relaxed, as Peggy asked about how the two of them had met all those years ago in Brooklyn. Peggy felt pretty good about the whole dinner, the stress of it having melted away, especially once the table flooded with laughter from all three of them. She reveled in stories of Steve’s scraps over dessert, mentally noting that Bucky took an extra slices of cake, information she knew would please Jarvis. There was an ease, a comfort, and she had never been so pleased to see Steve smile.

But then she heard a knock at the door. She craned her neck toward the door and looked on in confusion, as if staring at it would tell her who was on the other side.

“Excuse me,” she said, standing from the table. “I can’t imagine who that could be.”

She made the mistake of not checking the peephole first.

“Good, you’re here,” Howard said, forcing himself inside. “Rose said you had some sort of previous engagement, and you weren’t in the conference rooms. Anyway, so I just had the greatest idea for implementation of that microscopic surveillance equipment you wanted, and oh boy let me tell you—”

“Howard!”

“—it’s definitely some of my best work. Honestly, they should give me a medal. Oh wait they have.” Howard had barged right through to her bar. “Well, I could use another. But imagine if this time they set it in the alloy that I developed. Now that would be—” Howard stopped his rifling when he couldn’t seem to find any alcohol. “Damn Peg, you finished that single-malt scotch I left you? What about the whiskey?” He swung around and froze, looking confused when not only was he looking at her, but also at the dining table where Steve and Bucky sat.

“As you can see,” she started with an irritated sigh, “I’m a bit busy, as Rose say I had a prior engagement.”

“Who are they?” Howard asked bluntly.

She bit her lip, further irritated. Howard stared at them, and she noted that his gaze seem to linger on Bucky. His prosthetic in particular. “This is Steve and Bucky,” she introduced tersely. “Now if you don’t mind—”

“Howard Stark,” he introduced himself with a booming voice and smile, “although I’m sure you already knew that.”

He skirted around Peggy, and marched right over to the table, standing right next to Bucky.

“Howard Anthony Walter Stark! Stop right this instant.”

She wasn’t pleased when he completely ignored her. He went on examining a silent Bucky with a critical eye, muttering out specifications and commentary.

“This is what the U.S. Military gave you?” Stark clucked without preamble.

Peggy was further horrified when he poked Bucky’s metal prosthetic, shooting an apologetic look at Steve. She could plainly see Steve’s nervousness.

“How’d you know?” Bucky asked before Peggy could make it close enough to Howard to snag him by the collar of his shirt.

“The sub-par design,” Howard poked at two points of Bucky’s arm, “and the signature marks of lack of brain power. Always skimping. It’s obviously not even a good fit. Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?”

Bucky looked at him with wide eyes before nodding. “Yeah.”

“No kidding.” Howard let out a derisive, self-satisfied grunt. “Where’d you serve?”

“Afghanistan. Both of us. Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers of the 107.”

Howard nodded but remained focused on the prosthetic. “Say, what do you know about robotics?”

“Only what I’ve seen from your TED talk,” Bucky replied.

“You watch TED talks?” Steve blurted out looking incredulous.

Howard grinned while Bucky shot Steve an offended glance. “Good, wasn’t it?”

“Pretty awesome stuff,” Bucky admitted.

“That’s just the beginning, pal.” Howard turned back to her, smirking, no wonder with his ego just stroked, and remained unperturbed by her mutinous expression. “Peg, why didn’t you send him immediately my way? Now this is a project.”

She gaped at him, furious and embarrassed. Without letting him say another word, she grabbed Howard’s arm, wrenching him out of reach of Bucky. She ignored his yelps, dragging him out of the room, and out of sight of Steve and Bucky.

“Barnes is not a project,” she hissed under her breath, still clutching his shirt, shaking him.

“Whattya talking about? He’s perfect!” Howard said, brushing himself off once she released him. “I’ve already got the best idea, and like three possible prototypes in mind for him that are leagues ahead of what he’s got right now. He’s a good candidate for some testing.”

“Howard,” she enunciated, “he’s a soldier who received that injury under a great deal of trauma. Try to have an ounce worth of human compassion. He’s not some test subject.”

Howard looked at her like she had just been speaking a foreign language. “You’re making no sense at all Peg. You’re the one who told me I needed a real project to focus on. This is it.”

“I said that months ago, when you were still wallowing in your bruised ego! And this is not what I meant!” she told him, careful to not raise her voice.

“What’s the matter? I thought the other guy was your boyfriend. So what’s the issue?”

She gritted her teeth. “How do you know Steve’s my boyfriend?”

He smirked. “I am a genius.” She grabbed him by the ear and tugged. It made him yelp. “You realize my security system at my penthouse is far above all the commercial shit, right?” Peggy blanched, only making his smirk grow. “Enjoyed the dip in my pool?”

“Howard!”

“So a Captain, huh?” He proceeded to wink suggestively at her, making her cross her arms. “Anyway, that’s a totally sanctioned Howard Stark move. Only next time might I suggest skinny dipping? I mean that’s why I have the temperature control.”

“Stark shut your mouth before I do it for you.”

“And,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “you should invite me next time. Since it’s my place and all. We can throw a party. Invite A-listers. Get it catered. And Jarvis can make his famous gin martinis.”

“Howard I swear—”

“Relax! I already scrubbed it. Didn’t happen.” He sighed. “So. Back to my project since he’s not your boyfriend.”

“Listen,” she hissed. “I just met Barnes. Today. Right now. That’s what this dinner was. You have no idea about Steve and Bucky’s military history. They have PTSD. They’re adjusting. You can’t just make Bucky be your project.”

Howard shrugged. “Sounds like it’s his decision to make. It’s his arm. Let’s go find out.”

He ran back into the dining room before Peggy could catch him.

“So what you think, pal? You’re a perfect candidate for my prototypical StarkTech prosthetics. Give me a couple weeks, and we can be making breakthroughs.”

“I’m in,” Bucky said without hesitation.

“Buck—” Steve tried to say.

“On one condition,” Bucky told Howard.

“Name it.”

“I’ll do all the testing you want. But once you’re done tinkering, I want you to figure out how to provide the same technology to all the kids and soldiers who need it.”

Howard grinned. “Free of charge you mean? I do like a good challenge. Deal.” He reached out to shake Bucky’s hand, and then insinuated himself in an empty seat, turning his attention to Steve. “So, you and Peggy huh?”

Peggy grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. “Out.” She tugged him out of the chair, hearing Bucky snort.

“Aw, Peg. Not even some dinner? What kind of hostess are you?”

“No,” she said, dragging him out of the room. “You were not invited. Goodbye Howard.”

“I’ll have my people call your people,” Howard managed in the direction of Bucky before Peggy dragged him around the corner.

Once Howard was on the other side of her locked door, she gave herself a second to take a deep breath.

“My apologies,” she started, once she’d made it back in view of the two men. “Howard Stark… has the behavior of a feral animal, let’s put it that way.” She immediately noticed that Steve looked tense.

“You know Howard Stark?” Bucky asked, his expression incredulous again.

“Unfortunately.” She sat back down, forgoing the earlier set rules and taking Steve’s hand above the table and angling her chair towards his. Bucky didn’t seem to be disturbed.

“It couldn’t have been a normal girl you fell for, huh?” Bucky dug back into his cake and started to laugh. “Nah, course not. Cause this is something else.”

To her surprise Steve grinned at his friend. She felt his fingers squeeze hers. “Yeah, it is.”

She let out a loud breath, suddenly exhausted. “I need some coffee. Anyone else?”

For the most part, they ignored Howard’s visit while they finished up dessert with coffee. Before she knew it, Bucky was heading out with a slice of cake she wrapped up for him.

“Do you want me to come back with you?” Steve asked him.

“In case I forget where our apartment is?” He grinned. “I got it. Stay. Be mushy. It was good to finally meet you Peggy,” he said.

They washed dishes in tandem, and then finally retreated to her couch, Steve’s arm coming to curl around her as she huffed.

“Do you think I should be worried? About Bucky I mean.”

She didn’t know how to answer. There was no way to be sure, especially given Stark’s involvement. Things tended to go in unexpected directions whenever he was involved.

“I will talk to Howard. First thing tomorrow. I promise,” she vowed instead.

Steve sighed, nodded vaguely, and they both focused on the TV, or at least in the vague direction of the TV.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” Steve said out of nowhere a long while later, breaking the silence. “Right?”

She chewed at her lip.

“If it’s what he truly wants… I know Howard’s reputation as a madman, trust me. But underneath all that bravado and showmanship, deep, very deep down, he has good intentions. I will talk to him.” She paused to consider her next words. “I suppose, we cannot discount the fact that Bucky is in considerable pain, and that he has ownership of how he uses his body.”

“You’re right. I guess I can’t help but be worried when it comes to him. Not after everything.” He inhaled and exhaled loudly. “You trust Stark? Would you trust him with something like this for your best friend?”

She stared into his blue eyes. If it had been Steve, and there was an opportunity like this, could she really wish him not to take it?

“I do,” she finally said. “That doesn’t mean I can’t hold him to a very tight leash.”

She planned on marching into Howard’s lab and confronting him, sharp cutting words to take him down a few notches, and maybe as payback for turning a simple dinner into an entire event. But it was hard to pin down his location in the lab. When she finally found him, every time she opened her mouth to scold him, he was rushing off between monitors and worktables to make another note or another adjustment.

“Howard!”

He stopped midstride and looked at her as if he was genuinely surprised to see her. “Oh hey, Peg. Don’t worry about that prototype. I already sent it up to Rose.”

She stopped a growl that was rising in her throat.

“That is decidedly not why I am here.”

“Okay?”

She huffed. “Have you seriously forgotten your atrocious behavior last night?”

“Atrocious? I’m getting your squeeze’s best friend a real piece of craftsmanship to replace his arm. I’d say that’s more than thoughtful.”

She took a deep breath to keep calm. “Howard. He is not a plaything. He’s a real human being, and he lost that arm in very traumatic circumstances.”

“And it’s not meant for someone of his size. Don’t you think you’re treating the guy with kid gloves? I mean especially as he’s a vet.”

She opened her mouth to retort, only to come up surprisingly blank.

“Anyway, we need to talk about that.”

“About what?”

“About your new lover and metal arm.” She gritted her teeth and willed herself not to punch him. “Why have you been holding out?”

“You can imagine why I didn’t want to share my personal life at work.”

Howard waved his arm. “Not that. I know that about you. I meant about getting those guys into SHIELD.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“They’re files and records. They’re perfect material. Better than lots we’ve got.”

“Howard!”

“What? It’s true. You know it’s true! I mean you’ve seen them.” Peggy bit her lip again, and remained silent. “I mean, you have. Haven’t you?”

Truthfully, the moment she found out Steve was ex-military, of course her instinct had been to run a search. She had gone as far as typing in his name and reading it displayed back at her, confirming his infantry unit. But she had clicked out of the database. For some reason, that tiny bit of information verified had been enough. She felt guilty about looking him up like that. She barely knew the man, despite getting to know him over a calming breathing technique and tea. It hardly felt fair knowing he couldn’t do the same for her. Literally. Her name wouldn’t have come up in the common databases, even if he had used some old military resource to run her. He’d been truthful, and vulnerable, and even if he wasn’t all that he seemed, she could take care of herself.

Of course, now, after weeks together with him, having heard his background and stories from his own mouth, it didn’t seem to matter. She trusted Steve. She’d trust him with her life. She already had, long before they had even applied a label on their relationship.

“You’re seriously dating an ex-military dude without ever having run a background check on him? You? Ms. Head of the Strategic Scientific Reserve Team?”

“Co-head. Remember, you were clear about making sure you were just as in charge on the actual Scientific part.”

“You seriously never even googled him?” Howard snorted. “Wow, maybe I’ve been underestimating just how fun you are.”

She narrowed her eyes and frowned at him. “My relationship with Steve is none of your concern. And I know enough without having poked through his files.”

“Come on Peggy. You know you’ve done it before. It’s just practical.”

“I know what kind of man he is Howard.”

“Which only makes me more confused as to why you haven’t tried to get him on board. What gives? He’s got a shiny gold medal of a record. A list of awards almost as long as the one I had after undergrad at MIT. And his friend’s no dunce either. Imagine how useful their training could be and how useful—”

“Howard, after all those deployments, has it not occurred to you that they deserve to rest. They’ve both given their time, service and health to this country. They are soldiers with PTSD, not even a year out of the service. Consider the fact that they’ve done their part.”

“Maybe.” Howard shook his head. “But maybe, you’re too close to it. And so you haven’t realized that you don’t know what they would want if given the opportunity. Did it ever occur to you to even ask? How quick was Sergeant Barnes to not only agree to a clinical trial for a new arm, but to readily know he wanted to make sure the rest of his comrades got the same treatment? How quick were to you to trust your Captain? Tell me honestly the thought never crossed your mind.”

Peggy seethed silently.

Howard nodded at her, and then pointed back at the models on his screen. “Need to get back to this. But I think we should have another talk about this later.”

Peggy was at a loss for words, her head unable to concentrate on anything but her conversation with Howard all the way back up to her office. She had to acknowledge that Howard made some good points, many she readily agreed with. Maybe Howard was right. Maybe when it came to Steve she couldn’t be impartial. That was new.

Maybe she was indeed too close to this.