Chapter Text
Peggy woke up too early, not immediately sure why. The clock on the nightstand informed her that dawn was a few hours off. She lay still a moment, trying to understand what had pulled her out of sleep. She felt more than saw what the problem was, confirming it when she rolled to her side, feeling along the sheets in the darkened room. Angie wasn't next to her.
She had a split second of panic, What if someone had taken Angie? And Tony, he was here, too. Then she made herself breathe, think. Squaring her shoulders, she swung out of bed, resisting the urge to get her gun from the drawer.
If Tony went home with a story about Aunt Peggy nearly shooting him on his way back from the bathroom, her position as the steady, responsible one in his life would be in serious doubt.
Opening the bedroom door, she let out a controlled breath when she saw Angie down the hall, outside of the guestroom. Assured that combat wasn't an immediate necessity, Peggy backtracked long enough to grab her robe, then traced Angie's path over the hardwood. She was leaning against the doorframe, watching Tony sleep. Peggy cleared her throat as she approached, softly. She'd been silent about opening the bedroom door, and knew Angie wasn't aware of her presence.
Also, Angie had yelled at her quite a few times for being too damn quiet and scaring the living daylights out of her, and make a little noise because she's navigating their home, not sneaking into enemy territory.
Old habits.
Angie half-turned, but Peggy was faster, wrapping her arms around her from behind, before she could move. "You worried me," she said, whispering it close to Angie's ear. "Everything all right?"
By everything, she mostly meant Tony, and apparently Angie knew that. "No worryin, didn't mean to scare you. He's fine, out like a light. I just woke up, thought I'd make sure. The arm coulda been givin him trouble, and sometimes kids have trouble sleepin in new places anyway."
Peggy made an agreeable noise. Angie hadn't bothered with a robe, shoulders bare in her nightgown. Peggy kissed one of those shoulders, warmed again by Angie's concern for Tony. And by the way her New York accent thickened when she was tired.
They stood in silence for a moment, Peggy swaying gently, feeling Angie relax in her hold. She was almost surprised when Angie's voice hit her ears, lost as she'd been in the quiet, the feel of Angie under her hands.
"You still act like I'm gonna leave sometimes. I'm not, I wouldn't. I wish you knew that."
Sighing, Peggy breathed in the scent of Angie's curls. "I know you wouldn't. Not by choice."
Angie went still, then reached back with one hand, skimming her fingers across Peggy's cheek. "Right here, English. So is Tony. No one's leaving, everyone's safe."
Peggy studied Tony over Angie's shoulder, kissing it again as acknowledgment and thank you. He lay on his side, facing them. A ray of moonlight filtered n through the curtains, illuminating his features. He looked content, relaxed. His own age, which didn't always happen. He looked like Howard, in better times.
Tony at his best, when his mind was racing with some new idea and his eyes glinted and he bubbled over with excitement he couldn't contain, he was the spitting image of Howard in his prime. When the elder Stark would grin ear to ear, showing off a new toy to trip up the enemy. A new kind of armor, ten times stronger than the last. A new shield for Steve. Steve, who would always grin right back in that charming, boyish way of his, because Howard was his friend, and the happiness of friends pleased him immensely.
Peggy couldn't speak or look at Howard without thinking of Steve. Sometimes the reminder was much stronger than others, but it was always there. Howard, the Commandos, Phillips, they all linked back to Steve. And Howard didn't smile like that anymore, didn't flash that grin that was so uninhibited, perhaps a little manic. He hadn't smiled like that since Steve went into the ocean.
Tony still did, still had that enthusiasm for life and learning, untampered by loss or perceived failures. Peggy was terrified that Howard would rob his son of that look, that she'd have to fall back into memories if she wished to see it again.
Steve would've loved Tony.
"It's nice havin someone else in the house. Reminds me of bein a teenager, my younger cousins comin to stay."
Closing her eyes, Peggy held Angie tighter, using her body and voice as an anchor. Angie knew she was troubled, always seemed to know. But she wasn't requiring anything of her. She'd always asked for so little and given so much, and she acted like it was nothing. "Thank you."
Angie shifted, meeting Peggy's eyes as best she could. "What for?"
"Being here," Peggy replied. "Even when I've given you ample reason not to."
Angie made a dismissive noise. "You goin soft on me, Peg? Thought you Brits weren't supposed to show that you have real human feelings."
"My apologies. Forgot myself, must be the early hour. Please don't tell the Queen, I could be permanently exiled from the homeland."
Stifling a chuckle, Angie brushed her lips to the corner of Peggy's mouth. "Think I proved I'm pretty good at keepin your secrets. Now let's get to bed before all this sappiness wakes the kid up."
"Yes, ma'am."
***
When she reluctantly answered the call of her alarm, Peggy was alone again. There was no rush of fear this time though, because Angie and Tony's voices were audible from downstairs. Where she'd normally be up and out of bed the minute the clock demanded it, Peggy kept still a few seconds, let her eyes stay closed. It was nice, listening to the people she loved laughing, the muted clang of pans. Angie must've been making breakfast. Finally, she pulled herself free of the covers, shrugged into her robe as she had a few hours ago, and made her way downstairs.
The scent of eggs and French toast spurred her on long before she reached the kitchen. There she found Angie manning the stove and Tony waiting at the table. Throwing quick glances over her shoulder at Tony, Angie was explaining about her uncle Vinnie and how he "Made money on other people who bet money."
Peggy was quite certain that much of Angie's extended family had mafia ties. She'd asked Angie not to mention that too often. If she didn't hear anything direct or conclusive, there wasn't technically an ethical dilemma. She didn't think Angie would school Tony on her mobster relatives over Saturday breakfast, but chose to end this line of conversation. Just in case.
Clearing her throat. Peggy stepped barefoot onto the kitchen tile, relieved when Angie stopped talking, and Tony grinned up at her as if he hadn't seen her just yesterday. "Morning, love," she greeted, combing a hand through Tony's hair, then kissing the place her fingers left.
"Mornin."
Peggy chuckled, couldn't help it. A few hours together and Tony was already picking up Angie's speech patterns.
"You have to go to work today?"
"Unfortunately, yes. But I'll get home as soon as I can."
"You're the boss," Tony said, reciting his very limited description of Peggy's job. "You should have all the other people do the work, and come home early."
Angie spoke up for the first time since Peggy entered. "I tell her that too, sometimes. Then I remember that Aunt Peggy is smarter than all the dopes who work for her. Place would fall apart if she wasn't there to keep them from being stupid."
"Oh," Tony said, as if he'd never once question that Aunt Peggy was more intelligent than everyone else in the world.
Shaking her head, Peggy joined Angie at the stove. "Those 'dopes' received quite a bit of training, you know. They're highly capable employees."
"And what, they don't need you to keep them in line?"
"I wouldn't go that far," Peggy replied, flashing the smile only Angie got to see. "Morning, love," she said, repeating her words to Tony.
"Mornin to you, English."
There was a quick, mischievous grin directed her way, then Angie's lips were on hers. Angie had laughed until she cried after hearing about Peggy's conversation with Tony. Despite that talk, Peggy experienced half a second of hesitation at showing this kind of affection in front of him. And then she decided she didn't care, kissing Angie back. The contact was brief, but after it was over, both women looked to Tony for a reaction.
He didn't seem to have one. He tapped at the table with the fingers of his left hand as if nothing had happened. And, Peggy supposed, it hadn't. She'd explained things to him, he understood, so he paid them no extra attention. She looked at him and felt like crying for some reason, turning away. Crying would bring undue attention, and she was not going to be that soft in front of her loved ones at this hour of the morning.
Angie turned as well, kissing Peggy's cheek and whispering in her ear. "He's a great kid. Are we sure he belongs to Howard?"
Peggy snorted back a laugh. Then Angie was ordering her to set the table, and they sat down to breakfast, and Tony thanked Peggy for cutting up his food. They talked about nothing in particular, but Peggy couldn't imagine having better conversation with anyone. Occasionally, Angie would touch her hand where it rested on the table, hold it for a few seconds. Tony never batted an eye.
She hadn't realized how much this openness would mean until she experienced it. Angie's family, they knew what their daughter's living situation was. It was never stated flat-out, but Peggy saw it in the way Sofia Martinelli looked at her. Angie's parents weren't stupid. They knew, and they'd never once given Peggy a hard time about it, never accused her of corrupting their girl.
Didn't mean they wanted to hear the details over Sunday dinner, not that Peggy would've given them. She had an understanding with Angie's parents. If it wasn't ideal, it was more than she would've expected from most good Italian Catholics.
Angie's brothers, that was a different matter. Angie's frequent protests notwithstanding, they weren't idiots either. They knew, and they were polite when Peggy showed up in Queens. But their acceptance was a bit more grudging. And, though none were ever foolish enough to say it aloud, Peggy suspected that at least two of the four brothers worried that being around Angie would turn their own children queer. And, while Peggy would like nothing more than to punch some sense into them, she'd seen enough war, and wasn't about to start another one with Angie's family.
So she was exceedingly careful around Angie's nieces and nephews, a model of propriety. Because Angie loved those kids the way Peggy loved Tony, and she wouldn't give the Martinelli men reason to push Angie away, Mind you, if they ever did try, Peggy probably would d up hitting one or all of them, but she'd rather it didn't come to that.
It was just…nicer than she'd expected, not having to hide in front of Tony. If nothing else, Peggy was thankful that for all his faults, Howard wasn't an ignorant, closed-minded fool when it came to her relationship with Angie. Oh, he made lewd comments all the time; at least he had in the beginning. He asked invasive questions, and he'd gotten them a fondue set for Christmas that Peggy half-heartedly tried to injure him with.
But he also hugged her and told her he was happy for her, that she deserved anything or anyone she wanted. And years ago, before the drinking got too bad, before Tony's birth, he and Maria always found reasons to have them over for dinner. And if Angie squeezed her hand or sat a bit too close to her on the couch, Howard and Maria never said a thing.
For all the damaging lessons Howard was teaching his son, he still managed to get a few right.
Breakfast went by too fast. By the time she was dressed and ready for work, Tony was reading one of his terribly complex technical manuals, but paused long enough to hug her goodbye. Leaving him to his book, Peggy walked to the door with Angie at her side.
"What's that look?"
Peggy blinked. "Sorry?"
"You've got a look. A weird look."
"Thank you for elaborating so thoroughly." Shaking her head, Peggy thought a moment. "Nothing, really. This is all just…so terribly domestic."
"That a bad thing?"
"No," Peggy said, not having to think this time. "Different, yes, but not at all bad."
Angie grinned. "Good, honey. If you said anything else, I might not have had your drink and slippers ready when you get home."
Peggy made a face. Angie was doing an irritatingly good job mimicking the voices of all the sweet, subordinate housewives in all the sitcoms and films they both despised. "Are you finished?"
"Only if you want me to be, dear. Oh, is there anything special you'd like for dinner tonight? After all, you bring home the bacon, so it's my job to cook it however you want."
Caught between a laugh and a grimace, Peggy pressed a quick kiss to Angie's mouth. "I'm leaving now."
"Sure thing, honey. I'll make sure Junior behaves himself, doesn't make a racket when you get home."
"Goodbye, Angie."
***
That day, Peggy took career advice from a child. She didn't shirk her duties, but she delegated more than she normally would. There was a beautiful, if completely incorrigible woman waiting for her at home, and a godson who needed more attention than even her most junior of agents.
So she pulled rank and clocked out a little early. What was the point of being Director if one didn't take advantage of the perks every now and again?
When she came through the foyer and into the living room, Peggy froze, stifling the urge to turn around and leave again. Angie and Tony were on the floor together, surrounded by a mess of bolts and wires, and the corpse of what used to be a TV.
"Oh, hey Peg," Angie said, cheery as ever with her hands buried in the guts of the machine. "Didn't expect you home so soon. How was your day?"
"Thrilling. May I ask, at what point in your day did you two think it a good idea to murder the television?"
"I'm fixing it," said Tony.
"Thank you, darling. I wasn't aware it was broken."
"It still works," Tony explained, then paused. "Well, it will when I put it together again. But I can make it work better."
"I see. And should you be doing repairs with that arm of yours?" Peggy asked, already knowing the answer.
"Angie's helping me."
"Yup," said Angie. "I hand him things, I put other things back, he just points. It's kinda like clearing away the dishes back at the automat. Except I'm not on my feet all day, not getting other people's crumbs all over everything, and this one's not a jerk about tellin me what to do." Angie ruffled Tony's hair with her free hand."
"I'm glad you're so happy with your new occupation as a TV repair girl, But," Peggy tried for delicacy, not wanting Tony to be hurt or Angie to be angry, "you're certain you know what you're doing?"
Huffing out a disbelieving breath, Angie pulled something from the TV, replaced something else at Tony's direction. "No faith. No faith at all. And after everything—"
What should've been a moderately long and very dramatic monologue was cut off by a slight flash and a pained exclamation. Angie yanked her hand away from the machine, cradling it.
"Angie!" Peggy rushed forward, eyes widening.
Angie just rolled her eyes, holding up the hand in question. "Relax, Peg, no need to call the paramedics. Just a little static electricity is all."
Peggy opened her mouth to protest, but Tony spoke first.
"I'm sorry," he said, lower lip quivering as he studied the hand himself.
"Hey, hey, hey. None of that. You ain't the one who zapped me."
"But it was my idea."
"Darling," Peggy said, because he looked ready to cry from shame, and it always cut worse than any of her actual stab wounds when he cried. "It was an accident, that's all, it certainly wasn't your fault."
"But I asked her to help me."
"Yeah," said Angie, "you did. And there was a little accident, no harm done. It isn't your fault. I don't do anything I don't want to, Tony."
"She doesn't. I can vouch for that."
"Shut up, English. And Tony, let's get goin. This thing won't fix itself."
Tony stared between the two women, eventually kept his gaze on Peggy's.
"Oh very well," she said, as if she really had a choice. "Keep at it then. I have some files that need sorting in the study. I respectfully ask that neither of you electrocute yourselves while I'm gone."
"Yeah, yeah. You worry too much, Peg."
In contrast to Angie, Tony's tone and expression was quite serious. "We'll be careful, Aunt Peggy. I won't let anything happen/"
That proclamation was more reassuring than it should've been. Still, Peggy left the room questioning the wisdom of letting he and Angie meet. They played off each other much too well. Angie in particular was too good at playing her, getting her to agree to most anything.
She was in trouble. So, so much trouble.
***
It wasn't that she didn't trust them, really, it wasn't. But when Angie yelled her name from the living room, Peggy spun in her desk chair hard enough to knock it into the wall. She also searched for the scent of smoke. Or burnt flesh. Not to say she didn't trust them.
As it turned out, all that not-trusting she hadn't done was unnecessary. When she reached them, Angie and Tony were standing in the middle of the room, Angie's arm around Tony's shoulder. The TV was back together now, and turned on.
"Would you look at that picture? You ever seen reception that clear, Peg?"
Peggy, initial panic forgotten, stepped closer, admiring their handiwork. "Can't say that I have."
"Of course not. Look at this, it's like we're standin right there while Mary Tyler-Throws-Her-Hat-Around-For-No-Reason prances around like a loon."
"My thoughts exactly," Peggy drawled.
"Are you happy we fixed it?"
She would've answered Tony's question if Angie hadn't snatched him up in her arms and beat her to it.
"'Course she is," said Angie, pulling him into one of those tight, tight hugs that only came when she was terribly excited about something. "Dream team, you and I. Listen, what do you know about record players?"
"Easy, Angie. Do try not to bruise him." There was no conviction behind the words. Tony was grinning in a way that both warmed and angered her. Because no one as young and special and brilliant as Tony should be that starved for praise. "Tony's not here as a repairman, and when Maria returns, I'd rather she didn't think we used her boy as slave labor."
The moment she uttered those last words, Peggy wished she hadn't. Face falling, Tony squirmed out of Angie's arms, as he had with Peggy at the theater. He toed at the carpet in his shocks, eyes down.
He didn't want to go home. Didn't say as much, but it was written plain across his face, head bowed or not. Unable to bear that look, Peggy glanced at Angie instead. Her features were uncharacteristically hard, her fist clenched. Wordlessly, Peggy slipped her hand into Angie's, rubbing a thumb along the palm, where her nails had been digging.
Angie's breath hitched, just once. Then she squeezed Peggy's hand and used her free one to tilt Tony's chin up. "Hey, you wanna come see us again in a couple weeks?"
Tony's eyes went wide, as if she'd offered him something impossibly wonderful,
"My play opens soon. You could come if you want, sit with Peg. Then you guys can stop backstage and tell me how great I was."
Tony looked between them, a slow smile forming. "You'd want me there?"
"Well yeah. Silly question for such a smart kid."
Peggy could've hugged Angie then, but questioned her ability to let go. "Perfect idea," she said, smiling at Tony. "We'll catch opening night together. Though I'm afraid the show runs a bit late, so you'll probably have to spend the night here."
Peggy had seen the lavish parties Howard threw for his boy, parties he was too young to remember. The ridiculously extravagant gifts that came whenever Howard came out of his head enough to realize that he had a son, but hadn't been acting like it. None of it earned him the look Tony wore now.
"And don't worry about that mob of lunatics I share a stage with," said Angie. "They start hassling you, Peg will beat them up."
Bristling, Peggy squared her shoulders. "What Angie—"
"Cool Aunt Angie."
"What Angie means is that should anyone make you uncomfortable, I will calmly explain why they need to stop." Angie elbowed her lightly in the ribs. "Should that strategy fail, then yes, I will gladly beat them up."
She couldn't tell which of them grinned harder, Tony or Angie.
***
"Bloody wankers," she murmured. To herself, and to a universe that seemed incapable of gifting her with proper agents. She wondered why she'd bothered defending them to Angie this morning. One half day, a few hours without her an office away, and everyone forgot how to function.
She was starting to feel like Howard, constantly having to interrupt her time with Tony. Still, she smiled as she left the study after a call that lasted too long. At least Angie was there, to keep him entertained, to give attention when Peggy couldn't. To…
"What are you two doing?"
From her place on the couch, Angie shrugged and smiled, tapping lightly on a deck of cards. "You're the one with the crazy observational skills, what's it look like? Come on, Tony, what's your play?"
Tony, knelt on the floor at the other side of the coffee table, frowned at his cards. "Hit," he said terribly serious.
Peggy watched as Angie handed him a card. Her eyes then fell to the small pile of items on the table between them. A few programs from Angie's previous plays, action figures she'd taken from Tony's room. Other bits and pieces stacked atop each other that she couldn't quite see. "It looks like you're teaching a child how to gamble."
"See? Crazy observational skills still work. How was-?"
"Blackjack," Tony said quietly.
Angie's mouth fell open. "Again? Jeez."
"Angie, when I left, you two were playing chess."
"Yeah," said Angie, looking at the cards instead of Peggy. "You were gone awhile. He beat me twice, so we switched to a game I'm more familiar with. Which he's still beating me at." Angie tapped the deck more urgently, then her head snapped up, eyes locked on Tony. "Were you counting the cards?"
Tony looked confused. "Was I not supposed to?"
"No! I mean yes." Angie shook her head, displaying excitement rather than anger. "I don't actually know if it's legal or not, but most people can't do that."
Surprise mixed with the confusion. "Really? You want me to stop?" He paused. "I don't know if I can. I don't try to remember the numbers, it just happens."
"Of course it does. Listen, you ever been to Jersey?"
"No."
"Well, my cousin's half-sister's second husband owns a casino there—"
"Angie. No."
"Why? Look, it ain't about the money. I just wanna see the look on Sal's face. You remember what a jerk that guy is. His big, stupid, grease-covered head will explode when he sees what Tony can do."
"Tony is four He's not entering a casino, especially one owned by your cousin's half-sister's second husband."
"I'm family, Sal won't mind. And if he does, we can pass the card shark here off as older 'til we get in the door. Don't give me that look. Remember the time you had to pass as the geriatric Russian guy with the—"
"I've asked you, repeatedly, not to mention that again."
"Sorry, Pegs, but some things are hard to forget."
"Indeed. Especially when some people insist on continually bringing them up."
"What are you talking about?" Tony asked.
"I'll tell you when you're older," Angie said. "And when Aunt Peggy's out of town."
"Oh. Okay. I wanna go to Jersey."
"See? He wants to go to Jersey."
Peggy breathed deeply, counting to five in her head. Rather than answer and give Angie more fuel, she joined them by the coffee table, examining Tony's winnings more closely. Her eyes were drawn to a burst of red, white and blue, and they narrowed upon seeing the comic book. She remembered grabbing a pile of those from Tony's dresser, but hadn't looked properly. Probably fortunate, she'd been angry enough at the time. Holding the edge of the book between two fingers, like the toxic thing it was, Peggy scowled.
Captain America with his shield, grinning in a way Steve never would've. Not while dispatching Nazis at least. And Betty Carver, off to the side in her nurse's uniform. The bubble of dialogue over her head told Cap not to worry, Betty would be there to wash his uniform when he finished. To soak out the stink of those evildoers.
Evildoers. Had anyone ever actually spoken that word aloud? And what was this Carver twit doing standing beneath a clothesline with a vapid glaze in her eye while the man with a terrible imitation of Steve's jawline fought Nazis a few feet away?
"I thought they were done with this rubbish."
Angie, very uncharacteristically, shrank down into the couch cushions. "Yeah…I meant to hide that before you came back."
"You can get rid of it," Tony said. "It's stupid, I don't like it."
Angie studied him, straightening a bit. "Never bet anything you're not prepared to lose. I didn't even get around to explaining that yet. Good job, buddy."
Trying not to scowl, Peggy dropped the offending book back on the table. "You've no idea how relieved I am that you haven't been enjoying this thing. But why have it otherwise?"
Tony shrugged. "Dad gave it to me. I kept it in with the better comics so he wouldn't get mad."
"Howard paid for this? Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant." Add that to the long list of things they'd be discussing when she brought Tony home.
"Must've pulled some strings to get a copy," Angie said. "Newsstand I passed, they were selling faster than hotcakes at the L&L on discount Tuesday."
Peggy's first thought was that said discount had barely qualified as such. It wasn't the fair prices that'd kept her going back to the automat several times a day for months on end. Her second thought was more upsetting. "You knew that this Carver woman had been brought back to plague my existence?"
Angie's hand twitched in an awkward, so-so gesture. "I caught a glimpse last week. I was gonna tell you, I just wanted to wait 'til you weren't having one of your long, stressful office days."
"Angie. Love. Every day is a long, stressful office day."
"There you go. Thought by the time I found a good time to tell you, the lousy book might be cancelled already."
"Sound logic. Selling like hotcakes, you said?" Angie just sat there, putting on her apologetic face. Peggy looked away, unwillingly drawn to the ridiculous comic. "God. Is that meant to be my nose? How flattering."
"They're stupid," Tony insisted, more firmly this time. "The people who make them are too, and they don't know you, and you said I wasn't supposed to care what people like that thought of me."
Peggy smiled in spite of herself. Done in by her own words. The boy was going to be quite dangerous when he grew up, if she didn't watch him.
"And you're pretty," Tony added. "Really pretty. Everyone knows that."
Raising an eyebrow, Angie reached across the table, gifting Tony with the lightest punch to his shoulder. "Well, aren't you going to be a heartbreaker in a few years."
Tony, brilliant as he was, was also puzzled. "Huh?"
"Angie. Please don't."
"What? Like he's not gonna have the girls lining up?" Angie paused for a moment. "Girls. People in general. Whoever he wants."
"Angie."
"Right." Flashing her most winning smile, Angie stood. "You know, what time is it? My agent's supposed to call about that new script making the rounds. I should check in with him."
"No rush, love. I took the message myself, and he's not due to call for another hour. Besides, I was hoping we could discuss Tony's newfound gambling habit."
"Yeah well," Angie said, starting a slow backtrack. "Early bird catches the worm and all that. Think I'll save him the trouble. Besides, I can't take credit for the cards. He counted them himself, remember? Kids, always pulling something new. I'm gonna call Wes."
Peggy watched with fond exasperation as Angie fled the room. "Your exits are usually far more graceful than this."
The reply was slightly muffled by increasing distance. "Don't be such a critic, English, I got plenty of those already. Love you!"
Somewhere in the house, a door closed.
Silently contemplating the madwoman she'd given her heart to, Peggy took Angie's place on the sofa, settling across from Tony. That damn book with its gaudy colors and shoddy artwork kept drawing her eye. "Steve would've done so much better," she said, not realizing the words were coming until they had.
Tony shifted, leaning toward her. "Huh?"
"He liked to draw, was quite good at it. Better than he knew." Steve was always so much better than he realized, in so many ways.
"I didn't know Captain America could draw."
"It wasn't common knowledge. And Steve Rogers drew. Captain America was too busy for things like that." She doubted Tony could understand the distinction, but he didn't press her for an explanation.
"So, he could've drawn his own comics. Bet they'd be much better than this."
"They would. But Steve, he'd be embarrassed at the idea of drawing himself. He wouldn't understand why anyone would care enough to read about his adventures."
Tony seemed to puzzle over that. Then his expression changed as he squinted at Peggy.
"All right then, what is it? Bit of Angie's latest four course meal stuck in my teeth?" He laughed loudly at that. Mission accomplished. Peggy smiled, feeling rather proud of herself, but the lightness disappeared with Tony's next question.
"I heard Dad say you loved Captain America. Steve," he amended, correcting himself. "So, was the book right about that at least, you being his girlfriend?"
Peggy shut her eyes tight, just for a second. "Captain America didn't have time for a…for a girlfriend. But yes, I loved him." She knew damn well she was confusing Tony, but couldn't seem to help it.
"But…now you love Angie."
Not quite a question, that one, but close enough. "Yes, now I love Angie. Steve, he did an impossibly good, brave thing. And I still miss him every day, like your father does. But Steve did that good thing so the rest of us could go on and live our lives. He'd want us to be happy, not sad. And Angie, Angie makes me very, very happy."
Tony was quiet a moment. Then, "If that's true, if he wouldn't want us to feel bad, then why does Dad have to be so…?"
He trailed off. Peggy wasn't sure if he couldn't articulate the question, or didn't actually want the answer. She knew what he was thinking though, considered what she'd say if he ever found the courage or the words to finish his question.
She had no idea, and that scared her terribly.
And then Tony smiled at her, a look of utter contentment she didn't see enough of. "I'm glad Angie keeps you from being sad. I like her a lot."
That grin was infectious. Mouth curving, Peggy reached across the table, stroking the hair from his eyes. "I like her too. Quite a lot. But she's not the only one who keeps me from being sad." Changing her tone, Peggy made sure she had his full attention before continuing. "You're a good boy, Tony, and you're going to become a very good man. Remember that. You're not to let anyone tell you different."
She was thinking about Howard as she said that last, which was maddening and heartbreaking. She held Tony's eyes until he nodded. Two emotionally-packed proclamations in two nights was a lot for her, but she suspected there'd be plenty more if she wanted to counteract the things Tony stored in that incredible memory of his when she wasn't with him.
He fidgeted, seemed unsure how to move on from what she'd said.
Peggy tapped her fingertips together, worrying the perfectly trimmed nails. She was having the same problem. How did Angie handle these things so effortlessly? Flipping the comic so that wretched cover couldn't taunt her anymore, Peggy took up the discarded cards, reaching over to take the ones that remained in front of Tony. "So. Did Angie have time to corrupt you with anything besides blackjack while I was away?"
Tony shook his head.
"All right then. Well. Amazing as you are, Anthony, it's quite obvious when you're worrying over your cards, wondering what to do."
"But doesn't everybody have to worry about their cards sometimes?"
"Oh yes. No shame in worrying, none at all. However, it's best if people don't realize you're doing it." Tony was so bloody attentive to everything she said or did that Peggy couldn't help showing off a bit, shuffling the deck with more flicks and flourishes than absolutely necessary. He gaped in open admiration as she dealt the cards between them.
"Can you show me how to do that?"
"Of course, but only after that arm's healed up. In the meantime. Angie's a far better actress than I'll ever be, but I should be able to teach you a thing or two about maintaining a poker face."
***
From day one, Angie had a habit of taking over Peggy's space. Sliding in across from her at the automat when the customers weren't being especially rude or demanding, barging into her room at the Griffith and dropping onto the first piece of furniture she saw. Peggy had never minded, even when she should've, and was more than used to it by now. So when Angie entered the living room and practically threw herself into Peggy's lap, she merely adjusted her position on the couch, switched her cup of tea from one hand to the other, and wrapped her free arm around Angie. "Now you've done it," she said, ghosting a kiss through Angie's curls. "After that performance, Mr. Jarvis's bedtime stories will seem positively inadequate."
Shrugging, Angie reached over, carefully taking the teacup. "Do a job, do it right," she said, sipping the hot liquid.
"Indeed." Peggy's, lips curved as she recalled of the typical dramatic flair Angie put into her reading. It was a wonder Tony got to sleep at all. "We do have more than one cup, you know."
Angie took another long sip from the tea, then set it aside on the table, looping both arms around Peggy's neck. "The cups are in there," she said with a pout, tilting her head toward the kitchen. "It's so much more comfy here." Angie pressed closer to Peggy, tightening her grip.
"I see. My mistake, darling."
"Yes, yes it was."
"Here I thought we only had one child in the house."
Angie's response was to grumble something in Italian and trail light, lazy kisses over Peggy's throat. They were silent for a few minutes, Angie occupied with her task, Peggy running absent fingers through her hair, over her back. When Angie did speak, her breath tickled Peggy's skin. "Would Maria have told Howard where she was staying? Specifically, I mean?"
Peggy sighed, remembering Howard's words the day before, Morocco. Somewhere close to Morocco. "Maybe. It's equally possible that she was deliberately vague about her destination, so he wouldn't be able to bother her."
"But, say he does know where she is. Would he have told her about Tony?"
Another sigh. Peggy didn't need to ask where this was going. "Did Tony ask about Howard and Maria?"
"No, and I don't know if that's good or bad. I mean, even if Howard didn't have the guts to tell her—"
"A very likely scenario."
"How do you just jet off into the sunset without asking about your kid? How can neither of them even bother to call? I know you said things were bad, but hearing something and seeing it, two different things, you know?"
"I do," said Peggy, working to keep her voice from hardening. "Howard is Howard. Maria, I'm afraid he's finally started to exhaust her, and Tony's paying the price."
She remembered quite clearly getting that call at some ungodly hour of the morning, Howard telling her to clear her schedule for tomorrow night, that he was getting married and refused to do it without her and Angie there. It wasn't a complete shock, he'd been seeing Maria long enough by then. And Peggy liked the woman.
Which may've been why Howard had chosen to rush the ceremony. He went on and on about wanting to pull one over on the press, how he'd been single for long enough and it was about time he got on with things.
He also said, in that not quite joking way of his, that he'd best seal the deal before Peggy could talk Maria out of it.
She wouldn't have tried, of course. Howard looked at Maria in a way she'd never seen before, not from him. She wouldn't muck that up. Even if she did know Howard so much better than Maria did, know how much space he took up, how easy it would be for her to get swallowed up by Hurricane Stark.
"It's just rotten," Angie said. "He deserves so much better."
Angie's tone was half anger, half disbelief. Her relationship with her family wasn't perfect, but when it came down to it, Martinellis looked out for each other. She'd never understand how Tony's parents could be any different, and Peggy loved her for that. "He does."
It would be easier if Howard were completely irredeemable, if he didn't care. He did, though. She'd seen him put everything he had into loving Tony and Maria, seen him proud and tearful the day Tony was born. The problem was that with Howard it was all or nothing. He'd throw himself into caring for his family, but then something would happen. An argument with Maria, Tony wandering into his office and touching things he shouldn't. For all his surface charm and charisma, all the business deals he negotiated, he didn't know how to deal with the people who mattered. So he got frustrated and moved on to the next project, something with numbers and chemical formulas. Something simple. And once his focus went somewhere else, Tony was left with nothing. Discarded, like the rooms full of half-finished inventions Howard couldn't or hadn't bothered to puzzle out.
It wasn't bloody fair, and if Howard were anyone else…
"Hey," Angie murmured, pulling lightly on one of Peggy's curls. "Still with me, English?"
"Always, darling." It was a lie. She'd been drifting and Angie was too close, in every sense of the word, not to catch the deception.
"It's not your fault Howard's a crap dad," said Angie, looking Peggy straight in the eye.
Peggy hummed noncommittally, unsurprised by Angie's ability to read her. "No. But Tony does deserve better, and I did promise to look out for him."
"And? What do you think we're doin now?"
Peggy considered. "I'm afraid it won't be enough, not forever."
Kissing her cheek, Angie rubbed gently at the nape of Peggy's neck. "You wanna tell me now, or wait until the tea gets cold?"
Breathing out, Peggy let Angie's touch soothe away the tightness in her muscles. "I thought Howard might get better as time went on, as he got some distance from it. That the wounds would start to heal." They weren't, though. They only seemed to worsen, to fester.
"You say wounds, but you're really only talking about the big one, right? Steve?"
Peggy tensed, then made herself stop as Angie held her tighter. Habitually, she searched Angie's face for hurt, anger maybe, but didn't find it. "Yes," she said, swallowing hard.
Angie didn't say anything, just kissed her.
It was sweet and soft and gentle, and it almost hurt. When Peggy spoke about Steve Angie was unreasonably perfect. She listened, asked questions, but stayed quiet when she needed to, without Peggy having to ask.
And then there was Howard. Howard, who talked more and more about Steve as the years went on, describing people and events that Peggy didn't remember. The basics, yes, those were true. But so many of Howard's recollections were draped in fantasy. They were all square jawed and heroic, like the characters in that bloody comic. It all sounded very adventurous and romantic. Without the blood and the death and the failures. Peggy and Cap and the Commandos fighting the good fight with technical help from Howard. From him, it sounded like a grand old time. It made Peggy angry and sad, made Angie far too quiet. She hadn't argued when Peggy slowly started declining invites from Howard, skipping out on those once lovely dinners with him and Maria.
"I thought I could stop him," Peggy murmured, thinking of planes and control towers and more failures.
"Who's that, Peg?"
"Howard. When he turned that plane around in '46, I thought I'd convinced him to stop destroying himself over Steve. When he and Mr. Jarvis landed, I hoped that what I said would be enough to bring him back for good. Embarrassingly naïve, looking back on it."
Angie used both hands to frame Peggy's face, forcing eye contact. "It wasn't naïve to want him to be okay. And it's not your fault that he isn't. Howard makes his own choices, Peg, and I know you love him more than you'll ever admit, but you're not responsible for them."
Dropping a kiss to Angie's forehead, Peggy smiled against her skin. "You're quite brilliant, you know."
"Yeah, I do. Feel free to keep mentioning it any time though."
"Have I ever missed an opportunity for that?"
"Good point."
Again, being with Angie like this almost hurt. Because it was too easy to picture herself in Howard's shoes, still wallowing in loss and past mistakes. It was Angie who saved her from that.
"We'll take care of Tony," Angie said. "And not just tomorrow. I really like that kid, and you know how I am about people I really like."
"Frighteningly relentless?"
"You gonna complain about it? We'll make sure he's okay, Peg. Promise. Starting tomorrow. We'll take him to the movies or something."
"Sounds wonderful, darling."
"I should teach him some Italian, too. Since he'll be visiting more often."
Peggy made a face. "You will not teach that boy how to curse in another language."
"You're no fun. See, that's why I'm Cool Aunt—"
"You can stop now."
"I'm just saying."
"I'm very well aware of what you're saying."
"If you want to be the fun one, you're gonna have to put some work in. I mean, all the kids in my family love me the best, so it's pretty much a lost cause, but you can try."
"Uh-huh."
So much trouble. Angie and Tony would cause her so, so much trouble.
Peggy tried and failed to suppress a grin.