Chapter Text
A dusting of snow blanketed the rooftops of the skyscrapers, and the pavement of the once busy streets had since fallen silent. An atmosphere of elation followed the fall of white, frozen crystals, settling across Brooklyn during the night, with the promise of Christmas in the morning. The brunette inhabitant of the flat overlooking the city opted to stay indoors this morning, her breath fogging the glass of the balcony. She normally perched on it each morning to watch the sun drench the sky in an enormous splash of oranges and pinks. A cup of tea cradled in her strong hands as she peered out into the world still asleep, her own contentment and excitement bubbled within her. Her lips, not yet painted their signature red, curled into the smallest of smiles, the thought of what events would pass this morning flooding her mind. The sharing of breakfast, opening of gifts, the exchange of thank you’s, and the experience of their first Christmas together. Her long lost soldier remained asleep, likely bundled up in the sheets of their bed and able to sleep peacefully for the first time in weeks. And she wouldn’t dare wake him too early if she could help it.
Bringing her cup to her lips, she took a long draw from it, the hot liquid pleasantly burning down her throat and warming her from the inside out. She lingered at the door for just a few more transient moments before turning to enter the kitchen, setting her mug of tea on the counter. She began to rummage through cupboards as quietly as she could to find something to prepare for breakfast. The Christmas tree glimmered in the corner of her eyes, light radiating from its place in the den, and the smile returned to her soft lips as she flicked the stovetop on and placed a frying pan on top.
Inevitably, the sizzling of cooking bacon filled the apartment, and the aroma beckoned the soldier from the confines of their bedroom. His blonde locks stuck up in all different directions, his loose t-shirt and sleep pants filled with wrinkles, and as he neared the kitchen, she caught the yawn slipping out of his mouth that he had no intentions of masking. The yawn was evidence enough that he’d rested, truly, and slept through the night, and when the brunette’s brown eyes met the ice blue hue of his own, she saw the change in him with just that one good night’s rest. A lazy grin captured his lips before he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, his feet carrying him forward until he stood just behind the brunette, leaning over her shoulder to get a better whiff of the bacon.
With his head bent down slightly, his chin just barely cleared the shell of her ear, and when he spoke, his voice was smooth like velvet, yet still groggy, thick with sleep.
“Mm, bacon… Must be a special morning,” He murmured, his breath tickling her ear, and before she could a word out, still to her surprise after all this time, his lips met her temple where they whispered against her skin, “Merry Christmas, Peggy.”
Uncharacteristically, heat rushed to her cheeks, becoming a bit bashful as she flipped over the bacon, the underside browned and crisped. She hid her smile, keeping her eyes on what she was doing as she mustered up a response, “Happy Christmas, Steve.”
His hands fit like missing puzzle pieces into the curves of her hips for just a fleeting moment before he slipped away to peer into the fridge and take out the creamer for the coffee that Peggy had set to brew. The silence, other than the crackle of the bacon, was welcomed, comfortable rather than awkward. For those few seconds or so as she cooked breakfast and he made himself a cup of coffee, it was as if no time had passed. As if the ice had never separated them, as if that blue serum didn’t pump now through both of their veins, as if, at the end of almost every day, he didn’t become Captain America, setting off to save the world yet again. As if she didn’t become Agent Carter at the end of the day, ensuring the plans of dear old Captain America weren’t incredibly ludicrous to keep him from getting himself killed. It was as if they were just ordinary, domestic, when they were anything but.
When the bacon finished, Peggy removed it from the pan and placed it on a plate, instinctively moving to continue breakfast by taking the egg carton out of the fridge. However, before she had the chance to even reach the counter, Steve intercepted the return, removing the carton from her possession. His eyes glimmered with what Peggy could only attribute to adoration.
“Let me make the rest, and you can finish your tea,” He said calmly, and when an eyebrow of hers lifted, he simply raised his shoulders in a small shrug. “It’s Christmas, and I want to cook some scrambled eggs for my beautiful dame I live with. I mean, agent. Woman. Beautiful—”
A rosy color blossomed on his cheeks, stammering like he always did when he complimented her. Regardless of the years that had passed, all of the time that they were together, he still struggled to find the right words, to make sure everything he said was perfect. That every word would make sure he wasn’t going to mess everything up. As if anything could push her away. All it did was cause her lips to erupt into a brilliant grin, amused, both eyebrows arched, waiting. And with a sudden burst of confidence shining through his fit of nerves, he settled on, “My best girl.”
The corner’s of Steve’s own lips twitched up, his eyes locking with Peggy’s, anxious still, apparent that he was unsure if he’d said the right thing, if he’d gone overboard or not. Despite how long they’d been together, saying it in words still came as a bit of a difficulty. Almost an entire lifetime between them thanks to the ice and still somewhat stuck in the era they originated from, words to express what they meant to each other didn’t quite roll off of the tongue. The excitement that had been brewing within her when she’d woken now flooded over with a short laugh just above her breath. She shook her head slightly and turned away to retrieve her tea, in the process, hiding the blush that crept on to her own cheeks.
“Seems like you’ve learned at least a bit about women since you’ve moved in,” She mused, smiling at him over the rim of her mug when she trusted that the color in her cheeks had faded enough to turn back.
“You think so?” The grin that stretched across his lips was contagious, and when he carefully rounded her to reach the stove, she had to battle off the immediate urge to reach for him and bring those grinning lips to her own. Especially when she recalled what she had in store for him later on and imagined what smile might be on his lips then.
“Well, there’s hardly a strong supply of blonde secretaries around here to prove otherwise,” She teased, and judging by the flash of guilt that appeared on his face, she’d struck a nerve, perhaps opening up a healing wound. Quickly, she scrambled to apologize for her mistake of resurfacing poor memories, adding, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s okay, I deserve a little reminding now and then,” He said, turning his back to her, but his voice was now coated with a distant sadness, heavy with regret, and it pained her to know she was the cause of it. “It makes me treasure you just that much more.”
Those strong hands cradling her tea tightened ever so slightly around the porcelain mug, her frustration rising with another rush of heat to her cheeks. Even with the weight of memories better left in past pressing on his shoulders, he managed to somehow find a brighter side to her mistake, without so much as a spared glance from the stove over to her. The year that she had spent yearning for him to find his way back from somewhere out in the middle of the Arctic, it had been the biggest test of her life, desperately aiming to mold herself to be like the selfless man he was, trying to dedicate her life to justice, and solely so. Yet, he here was, testing her again, pushing her to be better, giving her something to look up to even when she was the one dishing the blows he had to dodge.
Sliding into a stool at the counter, her eyes fell to the tea nearing the bottom of the mug, pondering about where they were, how far they’d come, and how it just kept getting better. That smile never faded far from her lips, lingering, twitching the corners. “I didn’t think that was possible.”
His shoulders shook with a light chuckle as he nudged the cooking eggs along the frying pan, careful, always so careful even when he was so completely reckless sometimes, not to burn them. “In all fairness, there’s a lotta things about us that shouldn’t be possible, Peg.”
“Last one.” The small parcel, no bigger than a fist, was just about shoved into her hands as the two sat cross-legged on the carpet before the fire place, that now roared, flushing their skin. They had long before promised not to do anything extravagant, yet, with the clutter and mess of torn away wrapping paper surrounding them, it seemed that he hadn’t done much on his end in keeping such a promise. She wasn’t complaining, especially with what she had in store for him.
With the wrapping paper torn away, a tiny black box now burned in her hand. Something started within her, a flurry, a shock, perhaps, as thoughts swirled around in her mind about what this might be, and it was difficult to avoid the obvious main thought that stuck most. Her eyes darted from the box, to the look on Steve’s face, the anticipation, excitement, etched into his features, and with a pounding heart, she pushed the lid up.
Inside, the warm light of the fire bounced off the jewel in the center, shimmering in every beam of it it could find.
“It was my ma’s,” Steve’s voice broke the moment of silence as she reeled to find words of her own. “Before she died, she told me to give this to… To someone, I, uh…” His stammering, on normal instance, such as earlier this morning, would have sparked a smile, a laugh, but for once, she found it difficult to do anything but gape. Frustrated, the soldier ruffled his hand through his blonde locks before exhaling, pulling himself together. The time it took to gather himself was getting shorter and shorter each time. Those calloused hands reached for one of her own, rough, but gentle, caring as they cradled the one not holding the opened box. “Peg... I love you.”
Tears brimmed her eyes as a mixture between a scoff and a laugh finally shattered the initial shock, hand tightly squeezing his own. “I’d hope so.”
Now it was Steve’s turn to chuckle. One hand reached to mold to the curve of her jaw, and he drew her closer, nearer, and as she lowered the box into her lap, his forehead came to brush hers. The intimacy, the initiation, every time without fail, set her ablaze, burning brighter than the fire beside them. Especially since he was the one being bold. A soft sigh rolled off his lips, and with his eyes locked on hers, a bright blush on both of their cheeks, he murmured, “All right, all right, let me get to the point, then.” His thumb brushed over her cheekbone. “My ma told me to give this necklace to someone I loved and someone I knew I wanted to spend my life with. I know we haven’t talked about it, and I’m not saying we have to right now or anything, but... Well, consider this my promise that one day, however long down the line, I’ll ask you.”
The simple, gorgeous, elegant emerald necklace Peggy was clutched a bit tighter as one tear slipped down her cheek with yet another breathy laugh. Eyelashes hooding her eyes for a moment, she glanced down at this family relic, something so close to Steve that was now hers and for such a loving reason, before she dared meet his gaze again. Then, impulsively, she stole a chaste kiss as a hand of her own sought more contact, landing on his chest, and after, she pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips. “You’re a sap.”
Steve laughed, and the vibrations tickled her lips as he took it a step further with his arms winding around her waist, fitting like puzzle pieces once more. “Fair enough. Just don’t tell the other fellas, hm?”
It was hard to resist rolling her eyes, that grin returning as brilliant as ever before Steve stole a soft, tiny kiss of his own. “All right, I suppose I could manage that.”
“Mm. Good.” Both of their eyelids fluttered closed, leaning, melting into a better, longer, deeper kiss as Peggy carefully set the necklace aside to wrap her arms around his neck. They molded to each other, soaking in each other, soaking in the moment, soaking in the warmth of each other and the warmth of the fire. Lips moved carefully, deliberately, in sync, gentle, adoring. But as content as either would have been to end their Christmas this way, there was still one last order of business to attend to.
Reluctantly breaking apart, Peggy’s forehead remained rested against his, though her hands slid down to press against his chest, reminding herself that this was real with the feel of the erratic heartbeat that matched her own beneath his shirt. “I have one last thing for you, too.”
His lips twitched in the ghost of a grin, intoxicated by her, always drunk off her as she was off of him. “And what’s that?” He pressed, seemingly confident that his gift sufficed for the both of them, and that he needed and wanted nothing more than this right here.
Lips curved into another smile. The long lost soldier found. The blue serum that pumped in both of their veins was nothing to the strength of what they shared. The brunette couldn’t imagine a better life. Even though he went off to be Captain America every day, even if she went off on various espionage missions, even when they risked death every day, they came home to each other. They came home to this. And this , was all they ever needed. Her eyes closed once more, the smile on her lips growing as her focus rested on the thud of his heart against her palms, and as it sang to her the song of life, she finally mustered out a whisper.
“I’m pregnant.”