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It's late. Well, not all that late by *Peggy* standards, but by normal working standards, people should have gone home hours ago. Most of the office has, but Peggy is still drowning under work that probably isn't necessary but her mind can never seem to let go of and just get out of the office, even with husband waiting at home. So, the light shines through her office window, even as her secretary is long gone and the front office just has the basic skeleton crew manning the phones.
*
There's a rapping at the door and Steve's blonde head pops in, "Hey." In his hands he has a cardboard box that seems to be filled with some of his personal items. "Here late, it looks like."
*
The box makes Peggy arch a brow, though she'd know the voice anywhere, the moment he came in the room she knew who it was without looking up. A slightly curious smile paints across her features, lipstick mostly worn off from the day. "Went home for dinner last night. Generally can't manage it multiple nights in a row. Too many bits of… bloody bureaucracy to handle on a daily basis." Peggy motions to the reports beneath her, all of which she still reads personally. She could hand it off. She doesn't. "…Don't tell me you're cleaning out your desk?" Peggy asks, straight to the point as always.
*
"That's kind of what I came to talk to you about. With the government shutting down on the Avengers over this NATO business, I'm not sure this is the place for me anymore. Think it's best if I step away. At least for a while," he remarks sadly.
*
A slight sigh escapes her lips and Peggy stands. "…Do you want coffee? I…can probably get this thing to make some…" She motions to some strange eletronic contraption on the side table behind her desk. There are several mugs around it, something she generally uses to make tea. But it has many settings. Probably a Stark gadget. Standing, he might also notice she's… well, definitely softer around the middle than she was before. Her suit jacket off, the fit of her blouse and skirt doesn't hide the fact that both are now tight. "I'll never force you to stay but… I would like to talk about it."
*
"I could have a cup," Steve says as he sets the box down on an end table and comes more into the office. Steve notices her pregnancy, but doesn't say anything. Working here hasn't always been the easiest on that front, either. He folds his hands over his lap and sort of dips his head a bit as the conversation starts.
*
Coffee isn't exactly something she uses often, so the little container she keeps there she opens to sniff if it's still good. How does one even TELL with coffee. She half smirks, "This might be awful, no promises." She dumps some grounds into a filter and pours out water from the pitcher next to the contraption then sets it to go. The gurgling sound it makes is, at least, encouraging. She turns back to face him, studying that handsome, eternally young face quietly. "Just because the Avengers have been shut down, doesn't mean that we wouldn't sponsor a team for you, you know. I… I still think you're the best field commander there is. What you did with the Commandos during the war…" Peggy sighs, dragging one hand across her face. "We need people like you. We need *you*."
*
Steve takes in a deep breath and looks up towards the ceiling. "There are a lot of reasons. The Avengers, Paper Clip,…a lot of things. I think that if the United States government doesn't want us working together under NATO, changing the name won't really fool them."
*
Silence lingers from her for a few moments. Peggy just studies him, trying to read someone she still feels like she should know so well, but must acknowledge she doesn't. "Frankly, Steve, I…" There might be something else she's going to say, but she catches herself. She settles quietly on, "I don't report to the US Government. I report to NATO, and if the US has issues with that, well… they can kick us out. It won't change the way I do my job."
*
"That's true, you don't. At the same time, Peggy, this is my home. And if the government is openly asking me to stop working on behalf of NATO, for whatever the reason, I'm going to be inclined to listen. To be honest, ever since Paperclip, I've had my doubts anyhow."
*
It hurts. Peggy cannot hide that, not even with twenty more years on her poker face. She just nods quietly, taking in a slow breath. "I… I can't blame you about Paperclip. We're keeping them under wraps and under our thumb, but…" She shakes her head, looking simply very tired (and so much older) for a moment. "I've barely seen you since you started anyway. I…do hope you've not been avoiding me?"
*
"I wouldn't say avoiding, Peg. But, you can't deny it's a bit weird. I don't know, maybe it's just weird for me. Really weird." Steve folds his arms over his chest and lets out a sigh, not sure of what to say. "I don't want to intrude on you guys in any way."
*
A dark brow simply arches in his direction and that smirk of her's deepens for a heartbeat or two. Peggy then turns back to the coffee, pouring him a cup of the stuff and resting some powdered creamer on the tray next to it with sugar. She brings that little tray over to her desk and sets it in front of him before she sinks back into her chair. "…We got through the who bloody war with things being weird… but professional, and not snogging once. You go off and seemingly die and suddenly it's too weird?"
*
"Thank you," Steve says as he takes the cup. Immediately he makes an odd face, "I realize how things have changed for you. And, given how long it has been for you maybe it's not all that weird. But you can't see how that'd be for me?"
*
Peg studies him, brows slightly furrowed, but she's not just going to dismiss his words. She sighs through her nose, sinking back a bit deeper in her chair, long legs crossing in some effort to look casual, but the atmosphere in the room *was* weird. Especially now that he's pointing it out. "…No. I… I can see. I mean, it is weird. I never thought I'd see you again. I… I missed you. And things have changed. But we'd never get *over* the weird by avoiding each other." Peggy gives a bittersweet sort of laugh a heartbeat later. "Maybe I don't have time for friends."
*
"Maybe," Steve says sadly. "I don't really know." He takes a sip of coffee and it's not clear whether he meant his response to the first thing she said or the second. He doesn't clarify.
*
"You don't know if we'd get over the weird with time… Or I don't have time for friends?" Peggy asks with that same old smirk. It's a part of her that hasn't changed, is still young, sharp, just as rebellious now as she was then. Even if she's the one making the rules.
*
"Like I said, I don't really know," Steve shrugs his shoulders as if he doesn't know what to say. He takes another swig from his coffee. "How does all of this end? In your mind? We end up good friends?"
*
"In… a perfect world. Which I realize this isn't. But… Yes. God, Steve, there… there's almost no one left. Howard's completely insane. I haven't spoken to Phillips since he retired. Dugan is off in Europe somewhere… I know we can't go back there. It won't ever be the same. But… You were more than a project to me, you know that? It wasn't just work… and it wasn't just wanting to snog you either. It… there was so much more. I thought we were friends, even before the end. Maybe I was wrong." Peggy murmurs quietly, her ever-accented voice softer than normal, actually trying to put words to feelings which is rarely her forte. But she is trying. For him.
*
"But that's what you don't get, Peggy. I'm still there. For me, it's been months. I'd like to say that we're friends, but I'm not sure it's a good working environment. Not for me, and not for your husband. Maybe not, even for you."
*
"Then…Go. I'm not telling you to stay. I *do* understand and I'll give you a recommendation to whatever agency in the *world* you'd want to work with, or even a quieter job off the lines. I'll always have your back, Steve. Whatever you want to do. But… don't disappear from my life. Let's try, if slowly, to be friends… outside the office. Come to the house for dinner. Maybe bother to get to know the person I *am* now. If… if you want to, that is." Peggy frowns, realizing just how she sounds. She abruptly stands, going back to the little hot pot and pouring herself what is left of the coffee, just for something to focus on. "Never mind. I'm making things worse. There is no obligation for work or a friendship. I.. I'm just glad you told me before you left."
*
"Give me some time. This is hard for you, I'm sure. It's all very sudden for me," Steve says looking up at her. "Hopefully it's something that wears off. I really do wish you and your family the best."
*
"I hope so too. I don't know…How to help it wear off. Or how to help you, Steve. But you know I'd do anything I could… anything you needed. You just need to ask." Peggy states flatly, staring straight into his too-perfect blue eyes.
*
"I know you would, Peg," Steve says with a nod. "I know you would. That's the thing, though, there's not really anything to be done, to be honest. Just time. It's been almost 20 years for you. Closer to 20 minutes for me."
*
"I know. I just… I thought we lost you forever. Now that your back…I don't want to lose more time. That probably sounds crazy and selfish." Peggy shrugs, taking a good sip of the bitter coffee. Her nose wrinkles at the taste, but she keeps the mug between her hands.
*
"I know," Steve says as he nods. "I know, but I need time. I guess, in that way, I'm the one being selfish." He takes another swig of the coffee and sets it down lightly upon the table. "I should head home. Looking for jobs in the morning. Hoping to do something with art. Something different."
*
The comment about art actually makes Peggy smile. A genuine, immediate, earnest smile. "…That sounds like a … a damned good idea. You were always so talented. Are talented. Though, the offer for a recommendation stands. I'll tell them about your sketchbook." Peggy murmurs softer, trying to keep her smile in place. "Be… safe, Steve. When you're ready… I'll be here." She stands again, almost moving to hug him, or at least shake his hand, but she stops herself. No need to make it worse.
*
Steve does move in for a light hug, "I'll be in touch. Take care of yourself. And your family." Once it's over he moves to grab his box and head out the door.
*
The hug is returned, not too lingering, but probably tighter on her end than she intended it. She's even weird to touch this way, so much softer than she was during the lean, muscled war years. She still wears the same perfume, though. Peggy then legs go, "Good night, Steve. I will. I always do." Well, other than working until 10 pm some nights. She then steps back to her desk, returning to reports and the bitter coffee.