In Dr. Strange’s office, Steve and Peggy still stood close together, their fingers entwined, Steve’s forehead leaning against hers. “Will you stay?” he asked quietly, fearing her reply but knowing that there was no way around it. “I don’t know,” she whispered, looking up at him. “How could I possibly leave you when I thought I would never see you again?” Steve smiled and slowly ran his hands up her sides. “But I've got a life back there,” Peggy continued. “People rely on me; I just helped found a new special law-enforcement and counter-terrorism agency, S.H.I.E.L.D. That stands for –“ “I know what it stands for. It still exists today.” Peggy’s eyes widened and a happy glow made her face shine. “It does?” “Yes,” Steve smiled. “You did an amazing job there.” Peggy beamed and Steve was hit once again by the overwhelming fact that she was really here, in his arms, and all he had to do was to never let go of her again. “What year are you from?” “1953.” Steve shook his head. “You haven’t changed in the least.” “Neither have you. Well, you’ve got a different hairstyle,” she said lovingly, running her fingers through his blond hair and making his knees go weak.
Without thinking he pulled her into another kiss, half lifting her off the ground, his arms tightly around her, her nails scratching the back of his neck, the desire for her becoming almost painfully strong as she let her hands slide down his back and to the hem of his shirt.
But then she broke the kiss, breathing heavily, placing her hand on his heaving chest to stop him. “I… I’m sorry, Steve, I can't…” He snapped back into reality. “No, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to …” And then it dawned on him. Peggy was a beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and in her timeline almost ten years had passed since his crash. What were the odds of her still being alone? “Is there … somebody else?”
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