Fort-Standard

joyfulnerd  asked:

23 for Steve x Peggy :)

Cool. Cool cool cool. 

(That was me being chill. I see your smiley there. You get me, girl.)

23. meeting on a train ride au

Steve hates traveling in uniform. It makes people come up to him and thank him for his service with such sincerity that he feels hopelessly external. A few times people have yelled at him, called him a tool, a government lackey, and he wants to spit back at them, asking if they’ve ever given their last bottle of water to a grasping, bright-eyed child, or tried to hold a friend’s guts inside. The only thing he doesn’t mind is when vets- from his war, from others- nod at him, but sometimes there’s hatred in their eyes too for what he makes them remember.

The uniform helps, though, when he hears shouting from the next car. Not because it makes people unconsciously look to him to take control, but because they are willing to move out of the way when he tries.

The disturbance is at the far end. Steve moves carefully, trying to assess and also not hit anyone in the crowded car with his pack. Thing hurts like hell if you take it to the face.

It’s two men facing off, one in a flat beige cap with a ponytail slinking out, the other in an ugly windbreaker in Jets green. They’re both gray-haired. Somehow it makes it worse that they’re old. Watching them circle each other, yelling, is embarrassing, and Steve winces thinking about coming over to break them up. Someone has to, though, so he asks a woman with a stroller if she’ll watch his pack, waiting for her to smile and nod before he moves away. But before he can turn back to the fight, another voice, calm and draped with an accent, cuts through the yelling: “What’s all this?”

Dark curls, purple blouse, neatly matching nails. She’s very still, standing with a cocked head. Steve’s face freezes, which is good because otherwise he’d have an open jaw.

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