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In 1947
Peggy walked down the street with her head held high, an air of confidence surrounding her as it always did. She walked with poise, with purpose.
Her glasses shielded her eyes from the setting sun and her heels clacked against the surface below her.
Her dark brown curls blew against her face as the wind picked up. She simply smoothed them back as gently as she could as she tightened the sash of her knee length coat.
She smiled as she thought back on Mr. Jarvis's constant persistence that he should drive her to her destination. Normally, she would have caved. Mr. Jarvis was a dear friend and good company but this was something she had to do alone.
Instead, she hailed a cab and got out not too far from her destination.
Peering at her watch, she straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping inside the Stork Club at exactly 8 o’clock.
She knew he wouldn’t be there. He wasn’t the few days following the crash nor was he last year.
She came though; she would always come until the place closed or something else happened that would make the trip impossible.
As long as she was alive, as long as the place stood, she vowed to be here on every anniversary waiting for the man who would never show up.
She walked on towards the bar, smiling at a happy couple as they made their way towards the dance floor. They were in love, she could tell; head over heels in love and so absorbed in one another that they nearly bumped into her.
She didn’t mind; she knew that feeling well even if she could never truly show it herself.
She ordered her drink and sipped on it slowly, looking over her shoulder to watch the door every so often.
Again, as she expected, he didn’t show yet she watched.
The upbeat music shifted to a slower tune. She didn’t need to turn her head to the couples on the floor to know they were stepping closer to each other, probably gazing at each other lovingly as they swayed to the music.
She glanced on anyway.
One particular couple, a man in his army attire and a woman in a red dress, stood out to her.
She had her eyes closed as she rested her head against his chest and he held her close, kissing the top of her head. She was just barely able to make out the ring nestled on her finger.
Her red lips lifted into a smile. That could have been her life; perhaps it was still possible in some other life, some other time, but not this one.
She had missed her dance with her right partner.
It didn’t make her feel sad acknowledging it though, not like it had when he first went into the water and she showed up here feeling like an emotional wreck and nearly drinking herself into a stupor.
She had known him after all. She had loved him as much as he had loved her and that’s what kept her going.
She paid for her drink, slipped her coat back over her own red dress, that she wore for the first time years ago in another bar, and left. Not bothering to look back as she walked out into the dark sky and cool air.
In 2012
Steve had been out of the ice for a few days now. He still hadn’t accepted this new world and part of him feared he never would.
He mostly kept to himself in the apartment provided to him by SHIELD. Sometimes he’d pass time by sketching or listening to songs from his time.
It never filled the void. It never made him happy.
On Saturday evening, he slipped into the nicest clothes he had, a plaid button down, khaki pants and black dress shoes.
He stared back at his reflection, slicking back his hair as he did. He was sure he looked what people would call old-fashioned now but he didn't care.
Waking up nearly 67 years later wasn’t going to change who he was, not so soon.
He reached for the keys to his motorcycle, another gift from SHIELD, on his night stand and shut the door behind him.
He didn’t know where he was going. He just felt like he’d know the place when he saw it.
He rode on, eyes squinting as they adjusted to the bright lights and his ears constantly trying to tune out the noises around him.
It would have been overwhelming if his mind wasn’t focused on the task at hand.
He continued on until he noticed a club up ahead. It was flashy and too modern for his taste but it was the first one he had come across.
He pulled up to it and parked his bike.
There was a line; a pretty long one but he waited
He shook his head when his phone read 7:56 P.M. He wasn’t going to make it in on time.
As he stepped forward in the slowly moving line, he began to hear whispers.
He heard Captain America being tossed around and immediately he wanted to withdraw.
Before he could, a man motioned him forward, saying something about America’s hero shouldn’t have to wait in line.
Normally, he’d be too modest to accept such a favor. However, today was different.
He nodded his head in gratitude and walked through the opened door.
The music was too fast for his liking but he didn’t allow it to deter him.
He walked on until he found an empty spot at the bar.
He ordered the strongest drink they had knowing it wouldn’t phase him.
He peered out into the sea of people; their bodies appeared practically stuck together as they danced.
It was foreign to him of course, but he withheld his judgment.
He kept watching, eventually his mind allowed him to escape what was in front of him and envision a time much different from the present.
He imagined him in his suit, looking around nervously as he stood on the dance floor.
Feeling unsure of himself and how he was supposed to get his body to cooperate.
She’d appear, smiling beautifully as she always did, but much more comfortable since they would be in a more relaxed environment.
She’d walk up to him, guide his hands where they were meant to go, instruct him how to move so he wouldn’t step on her precious toes.
They’d laugh when he inevitably did step on her toes once or twice.
Still it would have been the happiest moment of his life because of her; because they would be together finally.
A tap on his shoulder pulled him from his day dream. He blinked and turned to face the red head on his right.
“Hi,” She greeted.
He returned her greeting as politely as he could, trying his best to hide his irritation at her interruption.
She attempted to get him out on the floor with her but he declined, telling her he was waiting for someone.
When he turned his attention back to his drink, the bartender smirked and shook his head at him.
Clearly feeling confused, Steve raised a brow at him.
“You could have just danced with her man, she was hot.”
She was nice to look at; Steve agreed with that part of his statement.
Her eyes weren’t wide and brown.
Her hair wasn't curled in those dark glossy curls he yearned to run his fingers through.
She wasn’t her and no one would ever hold a candle to her.
“If it’s all the same to you, she just wasn’t the right partner.” Steve told him as he tossed back the rest of his drink and reached for his wallet.
“It’s fine, Captain America drinks free.” The man held up his hand to stop him.
Steve didn’t feel completely comfortable with cutting in line and not paying for his drink.
With the cash SHIELD provided him, he figured a twenty would be enough so he slapped it against the counter and took his leave.
“You have a goodnight, son.”
The guy stared at him before shrugging and pocketing the money.