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breakinglight11Forever Captain:
“His Part to Play”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
Summary: “Steve Rogers has retired to the 1940s to build a new life with Peggy. In leaving behind the mantle of Captain America, at last he’s got a measure of peace. Still, Steve will never stop feeling the responsibility to step up as a hero— except he's not sure how much power his actions have at this point in the timeline. Somehow he must reconcile his new life and identity with the responsibility and burden of being a hero out of time.”
Previous chapters:
1. Lost Time
2. Building
3. Reaching
4. Bonds
5. Ghost
6. Stag Night
7. Wingmen
8. Mr. Carter
9. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
10. Suiting Up
11. On Maneuvers
12. Waiting
13. The World’s Oldest Battle
14. A Pinch of Salt
15. Elizabeth
16. Maria
Chapter summary: Howard and Maria grow closer, and Steve wrestles with the things he knows about their future.
“His Part to Play”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
Summary: “Steve Rogers has retired to the 1940s to build a new life with Peggy. In leaving behind the mantle of Captain America, at last he’s got a measure of peace. Still, Steve will never stop feeling the responsibility to step up as a hero— except he's not sure how much power his actions have at this point in the timeline. Somehow he must reconcile his new life and identity with the responsibility and burden of being a hero out of time.”
Previous chapters:
1. Lost Time
2. Building
3. Reaching
4. Bonds
5. Ghost
6. Stag Night
7. Wingmen
8. Mr. Carter
9. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
10. Suiting Up
11. On Maneuvers
12. Waiting
13. The World’s Oldest Battle
14. A Pinch of Salt
15. Elizabeth
16. Maria
Chapter summary: Howard and Maria grow closer, and Steve wrestles with the things he knows about their future.
~~~
17. Swinging for the Fences
It didn't happen all at once, this coming around to one another. Maria lived in a wealthy part of Connecticut, with a social circle fairly separate from Howard's. All the while he remained busy in New York, with his commercial and government work, as well as with his typical parade of lady friends. Still, they had begun circling one another, pulling more and more into each other's orbit. Howard had consulting and contracts that could wend him Connecticut way. And Maria's parents were on the board of any number of philanthropic organizations, and she often appeared as their representation, which gave her a convenient excuse to be in New York. They began to run into one another, with just enough serendipity to be plausibly deniable. They were not officially in one another's lives; on that they were quite clear. But it was just enough to give those close to Howard the chance to size her up.
She was quite a bit younger than him, Peggy could not help but note, though not so much as Steve might have feared. She was refined as white sugar, cultured as fine wine, a world traveler who spoke three languages upon graduating from honest-to-God finishing school. And she had a rapier wit, that she could use for good or for evil; she had a way of zeroing in on small things about people, either to build up or to destroy as the mood struck her. The déjà vu of it hit Steve hard enough to knock him on his ass. Steve had always been struck by all the ways Tony was like Howard, but there were moments where he saw so much of him in Maria it took away his breath.
In the times between their supposed run-ins, they kept up a spirited correspondence. Howard started sending her gifts, sometimes little jokes, sometimes expensive baubles with teasing notes— "Your head's already so big, I don't know how you hold it up. A couple twelve-carat total weights won't make much difference, will they?" She would not acknowledge these tokens directly, but when they had their brush-ups, she made her feelings about them known.
"She wore 'em," Howard declared after one particularly eventful brunch, tapping one earlobe in triumph. "She never said a damn word. But she wore 'em."
Steve regarded him in mild shock. "Howard, she called you a pig and threw her champagne at you."
But Howard only grinned, pleased as punch by the whole affair. "That's how you know I'm under her skin. And in her ears!"
Maria would riposte in her own idiom, occasionally with a token of her own— "I've enclosed one of my gloves for you to return to me, so next time you bother me in public you won't need to come up with an excuse. You're dreadfully bad at it." Howard's boyish excitement every time something new arrived was charming; at least, until he started planning the next prank.
"She's having tea with the governor next weekend. What do you think, folks? Should I let a goat loose on her table, or just have it waiting for her in her car?" They managed to talk him down from the goat to a white mouse in his pocket, much to Jarvis's relief, as the one most likely to be deputized as livestock wrangler. But the escalating time and effort he was investing in this woman was not lost on them.
"Pranks he's played before," Jarvis confided to Peggy and Steve. "Even ones involving live animals. But I knew this one was different when he insisted on writing his own cards."
Steve grinned. "Instead of making you do it?"
Jarvis eyed him. "Do you know how many brush-offs I've had to affix to Tiffany boxes? At this point I could forge his signature on letters to Congress. But for her… he's got to do it himself." Soon even his other assignations fell away, his full attention devoted to pulling on the pigtails of this one woman.
They found themselves unable to keep from gossiping about it amongst themselves. Meeting them for breakfast in the city, Angie grinned impishly over her coffee cup. "What do you think she does to him?"
Peggy gasped, delightedly scandalized. "Angie! For heaven's sake!"
Her friend blushed but continued undaunted. "Howard Stark has had it every which way you can imagine"— and, Steve thought, a few that were likely beyond them —"from here to the Golden Gate. What do you think it means, that he keeps going back to her?"
They laughed, but to Steve there was only one answer, and it was an obvious one. "That he's in love."
Angie goggled. "Has he got it in him, you think?" But Steve didn't doubt it. Nothing else, he knew, would have power over a man like that.
Rather more interesting to Steve was what Maria saw in him. The last thing Howard wanted was someone who needed him, but Maria barely had a use for him. His money did not impress her; she had plenty of her own and always had. His fame meant nothing; her father advised the president and her mother was personal friends with Janet Leigh. Even his genius only went so far; she was interested in art, politics, philosophy, of which Howard's own knowledge didn't quite equal his engineering prowess. He had to work to keep her attention, as hard at anything he'd worked in his life. And by God, he was applying himself with the same focus and ingenuity he'd brought to the war effort.
"Maybe I was wrong," Angie said, after they'd observed a few weeks of this. "Maybe we ought to be asking what the hell he's doing to her."
Steve did not care to ask, but given Howard, he might end up hearing about it anyway. Howard didn't have many male friends about which he could talk about an honest-to-God romance, and even with all his hard work, he still had to fight his way out of the doghouse on a regular basis. And Steve had been drafted as his sympathetic ear.
"I could high-tail it," Howard grumbled. "I could hire a plane in an hour to anywhere in the world. Why is it that all I want to do is keep going back for more?"
"Don't ask me," Steve deadpanned. "Peggy shot at me once. You know, you were there."
"Yeah, when you got a little carried away with that blonde number in the Colonel's office." He chuckled wickedly. "Guess you've got a thing for women in uniform. What was that one's name? Private Lorraine?"
Steve rolled his eyes. "Trust you to remember. But I didn't start that."
"You didn't finish it, either. God, you know that jawline's good for more than catching haymakers, don't you?"
He grinned ruefully; it had gotten to be a bit of a pattern with him. He'd tried, when it seemed like it might have been the smart thing to do. But he should have admitted what he'd felt in his guts from the start— that he was waiting for the right partner, and she was the only woman for him. "You'd think I would have learned."
But grumble as he might, Howard never did high-tail it; he'd stomp off like a batter to the bullpen to cool down before swaggering back up to the plate. No amount of strikeouts, it seemed, would stop him swinging for the fence. It made for quite the spectacle for those sports fans watching him from the stands.
Howard was the type to appreciate an audience, but Steve and company followed the developments with an interest that bemused even him. "Jesus, what are you folks, the Hollywood Reporter?"
Steve tried to play it cool. "Are you so surprised we're interested in your life?"
"No," Howard declared. "I'm a fascinating guy. But come on, Rogers— are you really gonna tell me you want to hear whether she liked the ballet or the opera better?"
"Hey, somebody's got to warn you before you do something that makes her toss you out on your ass."
"Yeah, yeah," Howard grumbled. "A fella crosses time and space for a woman, and suddenly he thinks he's a romantic."
Steve was content to leave it at that. Partially it was fascination— who was this woman with the power to conquer Howard Stark? What would a Howard in love even look like? A penny serial couldn't have put them so much on the edge of their seats. But it was also out of a kind of desperation on Steve's part— to know just how closely this reality was running to the previous. Up until now, he'd seen no definite sign either way, if he would disturb time's flow, or if he could do anything to shape things even if he wanted to. By watching Howard and Maria's destiny unfold, maybe it would give him some clue.
Perhaps it was a vain enterprise. He still had no idea what, if anything, he ought to do about it. But he found he could not look away.
~~~
Next chapter: 18. The Marrying Kind
17. Swinging for the Fences
It didn't happen all at once, this coming around to one another. Maria lived in a wealthy part of Connecticut, with a social circle fairly separate from Howard's. All the while he remained busy in New York, with his commercial and government work, as well as with his typical parade of lady friends. Still, they had begun circling one another, pulling more and more into each other's orbit. Howard had consulting and contracts that could wend him Connecticut way. And Maria's parents were on the board of any number of philanthropic organizations, and she often appeared as their representation, which gave her a convenient excuse to be in New York. They began to run into one another, with just enough serendipity to be plausibly deniable. They were not officially in one another's lives; on that they were quite clear. But it was just enough to give those close to Howard the chance to size her up.
She was quite a bit younger than him, Peggy could not help but note, though not so much as Steve might have feared. She was refined as white sugar, cultured as fine wine, a world traveler who spoke three languages upon graduating from honest-to-God finishing school. And she had a rapier wit, that she could use for good or for evil; she had a way of zeroing in on small things about people, either to build up or to destroy as the mood struck her. The déjà vu of it hit Steve hard enough to knock him on his ass. Steve had always been struck by all the ways Tony was like Howard, but there were moments where he saw so much of him in Maria it took away his breath.
In the times between their supposed run-ins, they kept up a spirited correspondence. Howard started sending her gifts, sometimes little jokes, sometimes expensive baubles with teasing notes— "Your head's already so big, I don't know how you hold it up. A couple twelve-carat total weights won't make much difference, will they?" She would not acknowledge these tokens directly, but when they had their brush-ups, she made her feelings about them known.
"She wore 'em," Howard declared after one particularly eventful brunch, tapping one earlobe in triumph. "She never said a damn word. But she wore 'em."
Steve regarded him in mild shock. "Howard, she called you a pig and threw her champagne at you."
But Howard only grinned, pleased as punch by the whole affair. "That's how you know I'm under her skin. And in her ears!"
Maria would riposte in her own idiom, occasionally with a token of her own— "I've enclosed one of my gloves for you to return to me, so next time you bother me in public you won't need to come up with an excuse. You're dreadfully bad at it." Howard's boyish excitement every time something new arrived was charming; at least, until he started planning the next prank.
"She's having tea with the governor next weekend. What do you think, folks? Should I let a goat loose on her table, or just have it waiting for her in her car?" They managed to talk him down from the goat to a white mouse in his pocket, much to Jarvis's relief, as the one most likely to be deputized as livestock wrangler. But the escalating time and effort he was investing in this woman was not lost on them.
"Pranks he's played before," Jarvis confided to Peggy and Steve. "Even ones involving live animals. But I knew this one was different when he insisted on writing his own cards."
Steve grinned. "Instead of making you do it?"
Jarvis eyed him. "Do you know how many brush-offs I've had to affix to Tiffany boxes? At this point I could forge his signature on letters to Congress. But for her… he's got to do it himself." Soon even his other assignations fell away, his full attention devoted to pulling on the pigtails of this one woman.
They found themselves unable to keep from gossiping about it amongst themselves. Meeting them for breakfast in the city, Angie grinned impishly over her coffee cup. "What do you think she does to him?"
Peggy gasped, delightedly scandalized. "Angie! For heaven's sake!"
Her friend blushed but continued undaunted. "Howard Stark has had it every which way you can imagine"— and, Steve thought, a few that were likely beyond them —"from here to the Golden Gate. What do you think it means, that he keeps going back to her?"
They laughed, but to Steve there was only one answer, and it was an obvious one. "That he's in love."
Angie goggled. "Has he got it in him, you think?" But Steve didn't doubt it. Nothing else, he knew, would have power over a man like that.
Rather more interesting to Steve was what Maria saw in him. The last thing Howard wanted was someone who needed him, but Maria barely had a use for him. His money did not impress her; she had plenty of her own and always had. His fame meant nothing; her father advised the president and her mother was personal friends with Janet Leigh. Even his genius only went so far; she was interested in art, politics, philosophy, of which Howard's own knowledge didn't quite equal his engineering prowess. He had to work to keep her attention, as hard at anything he'd worked in his life. And by God, he was applying himself with the same focus and ingenuity he'd brought to the war effort.
"Maybe I was wrong," Angie said, after they'd observed a few weeks of this. "Maybe we ought to be asking what the hell he's doing to her."
Steve did not care to ask, but given Howard, he might end up hearing about it anyway. Howard didn't have many male friends about which he could talk about an honest-to-God romance, and even with all his hard work, he still had to fight his way out of the doghouse on a regular basis. And Steve had been drafted as his sympathetic ear.
"I could high-tail it," Howard grumbled. "I could hire a plane in an hour to anywhere in the world. Why is it that all I want to do is keep going back for more?"
"Don't ask me," Steve deadpanned. "Peggy shot at me once. You know, you were there."
"Yeah, when you got a little carried away with that blonde number in the Colonel's office." He chuckled wickedly. "Guess you've got a thing for women in uniform. What was that one's name? Private Lorraine?"
Steve rolled his eyes. "Trust you to remember. But I didn't start that."
"You didn't finish it, either. God, you know that jawline's good for more than catching haymakers, don't you?"
He grinned ruefully; it had gotten to be a bit of a pattern with him. He'd tried, when it seemed like it might have been the smart thing to do. But he should have admitted what he'd felt in his guts from the start— that he was waiting for the right partner, and she was the only woman for him. "You'd think I would have learned."
But grumble as he might, Howard never did high-tail it; he'd stomp off like a batter to the bullpen to cool down before swaggering back up to the plate. No amount of strikeouts, it seemed, would stop him swinging for the fence. It made for quite the spectacle for those sports fans watching him from the stands.
Howard was the type to appreciate an audience, but Steve and company followed the developments with an interest that bemused even him. "Jesus, what are you folks, the Hollywood Reporter?"
Steve tried to play it cool. "Are you so surprised we're interested in your life?"
"No," Howard declared. "I'm a fascinating guy. But come on, Rogers— are you really gonna tell me you want to hear whether she liked the ballet or the opera better?"
"Hey, somebody's got to warn you before you do something that makes her toss you out on your ass."
"Yeah, yeah," Howard grumbled. "A fella crosses time and space for a woman, and suddenly he thinks he's a romantic."
Steve was content to leave it at that. Partially it was fascination— who was this woman with the power to conquer Howard Stark? What would a Howard in love even look like? A penny serial couldn't have put them so much on the edge of their seats. But it was also out of a kind of desperation on Steve's part— to know just how closely this reality was running to the previous. Up until now, he'd seen no definite sign either way, if he would disturb time's flow, or if he could do anything to shape things even if he wanted to. By watching Howard and Maria's destiny unfold, maybe it would give him some clue.
Perhaps it was a vain enterprise. He still had no idea what, if anything, he ought to do about it. But he found he could not look away.
~~~
Next chapter: 18. The Marrying Kind
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