Can I request a Steggy fic about Peggy hanging out with the Howling Commandos? I love everything you've written.
Thank you very much! I hope this is the sort of thing you had in mind.
The snow was coming down now in dense swirls of freezing white. It was already lying thick on the ground, and each flake that looked fluffy and soft from inside would no doubt feel like the kiss of a knife edge if it brushed bare skin. Peggy shivered, and pulled the collar of her fatigues further up around her neck.
“Is that fire going to be ready any time soon?” she asked, turning to see no less than three of the Howling Commandos were huddled around the fireplace of the safe house.
By her calculation, it had been nearly twenty minutes since she first smelled the distinctive fishy tang of herring on the air. The snow had started coming in not long afterwards; at first a few flakes that just settled in her hair, and then the flurries that obscured the view of the landscape. The stone walls of the safe house would protect them from the worst of the snowstorm, but it would be a lot easier to ride out with a fire to provide some warmth; Peggy could still feel the cold creeping down into her fingers and toes.
“Almost got it, Peg,” Dugan grunted over his shoulder.
Dernier, watching them from by the door, heaved a sigh and spread his hands. “If you need assistance …”
“No!” The shout came from Dugan, Jones and Bucky all at once.
“We want to be warm, Dernier,” Falsworth explained, “Not blown to pieces.”
Dernier rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath in French that Peggy didn’t quite catch, but was sure was less than complimentary.
Lifting her eyes, she met Steve’s gaze across the room and found her own amusement mirrored in his face. He was doing an admirable job of keeping his mouth in a straight line, but she knew him well enough by now that she could see the laughter dancing at the back of his eyes.
He was leaning against the wall opposite her, arms folded, but even relaxed as he was she could see he was much more assured and confident than he had been a year ago. He might have been given the title ‘Captain’ as part of his costume but he wore it as if he had born to it. Calm authority was etched into his bearing; he was a man who had found a purpose.
Peggy itched to cross the room and stand close to him, to touch him. It had been weeks since she had last seen him. But they had agreed that in the field, with their colleagues, they had to be professional. So she kept close to the window, and tried to pretend she wasn’t aware of every minute shift in his stance. It helped that she could tell from the glances he sent her way that he was feeling the same frustrated desire.
A whooshing crackle came from the fireplace, drawing their attention, and Dugan gave a triumphant shout and clapped Jones on the shoulder.
“There we go!” He stepped back, revealing a blaze swelling to life in the grate. Golden light spilled out across the floor, and tendrils of warmth started seeping across the room. “Told you we almost had it.”
“Congratulations, Dum Dum,” Morita grinned, “After a year tramping through the wilderness of Europe, you’ve finally learned to light a fire.”
Dugan just grinned. “Never say you can’t teach me anything.”
The others chuckled appreciatively, in much better humour now that hypothermia wasn’t an imminent prospect. Peggy felt herself smiling as well, remembering how much she had missed the easy camaraderie and companionship of the small, tight-knight unit.
Getting up from his seat, Falsworth crossed to where she was standing and peered out the window. By now all that was visible was white; the storm would probably last most of the night, and they would have to dig themselves out come morning.
“You know,” he said conversationally, “I never thought I would miss the British weather until I came here.”
Peggy laughed. “Goodness, yes. What I wouldn’t give for a good London drizzle right about now.”
“I’d settle for a decent cup of tea and a muffin.”
Across the room Bucky gave an amused snort and leaned back in his chair. “Why is it you two suddenly become so much more British when you’re around each other?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Peggy said, arching an eyebrow.
Bucky flashed her his trademark boyish grin. “On you, it’s charming.”
Used to his flirtatious manner by now, Peggy just shook her head. Falsworth looked like he might say something about the implication that, on him, it was not charming, but was cut off by Dugan banging a large bottle of rich brown brandy down on the table.
“I can’t do anything about tea, Monty, but I got the next best thing right here.”
Morita rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Now we’re talking!”
“Should I be concerned about the fact that you always have a bottle of brandy on you, Dugan?” Steve asked, coming forward with Dernier and Jones.
“Gotta be prepared, Cap.”
“What are you, a boy scout?” Jones pulled some mismatched tin cups from out of one of the packs. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Lifting the bottle off the table, Dernier inspected the label carefully then opened it up and took a sniff before declaring it acceptable and pouring for all of them. Dugan handed out the cups and they raised them all together with a little clinking noise.
“Cheers! Now, normally I’d suggest we liven up the evening with a game I used to play with some friends back in the day,” Dugan said after taking a large swallow. “But we do have a lady present tonight.”
Peggy snorted. “Oh, please. I could drink any one of you under the table.”
“Why, Agent Carter, that sounds like a challenge,” Bucky said, pretending to be shocked.
“And what if it is, Sergeant Barnes?”
There was a chorus of chuckles and Bucky slowly rose from his seat and leaned towards her. “Bring. It. On.”
She won, prompting cheers and another round of celebratory shots and that really did finish everyone off for the evening. It was a little while later, when the the world was pleasantly fuzzy around the edges and everyone else was asleep that she finally slipped over to Steve’s side and reached up to run her fingertips along his jaw.
“You know,” she whispered, “I’ve heard the best way to keep warm during a snowstorm is to share body heat.”
“Oh really? Well, if that’s what’s best …” Steve whispered back, pulling her into his arms.