Sorry I'm Late (Captain America AU) [Steve x Peggy]

Barely Made It

Peggy wasn't sure what had made her suddenly decide to come there. She knew exactly why the date was significant; a week from next Saturday, that was what she had told him. The Stork Club was everything she had expected. It had a brilliant atmosphere with people dancing and chatting all across the main room. She couldn't help allowing herself to smile. But it didn't last long. Because there was one important piece missing. 

"I still don't know how to dance."

Slowly taking the first few hesitant steps into the club, Peggy made her way across the main dance floor and over to the bar where a few lone stragglers were sitting. She slid into an empty seat farthest from everyone and waved to the bartender with a two finger salute. He walked over and eyed her hungrily before asking, "What'll it be toots?"

"Scotch on the rocks." She muttered, resting her hands on the bar. "Strongest you've got."

Seeming to guess that she wasn't in the mood for anything the man nodded and walked over to mix up her drink. Peggy sighed and ran a hand through her hair and cast her neutral gaze onto the people on the dance floor. Almost everyone was paired up in two's or three's; there was only the occasional single dancer. They all looked so happy and cheerful Peggy couldn't help but be jealous. Everyone else was allowed to be happy aside from her. 

When the tender set her glass in front of her Peggy immediately picked it up and took a sip, wanting to drown out the sad thoughts that had been plaguing her for the past week. She could feel the buzz of the alcohol start to settle in as she took another glance behind her at the hoards of people. She wished she could've been one of those. She would've loved teaching Steve how to dance. 

"We'll have the band play something slow."

No matter how much he could've tried to convince her, Peggy would've been prepared for him to step on her feet anyways. Steve was a clumsy idiot before the serum; he had been an even clumsier idiot afterwards. Tripping over his own two feet while he was walking and blushing every time he nearly fell over in her company. Peggy honestly found it adorable but wasn't going to admit it to him. She didn't really have to worry about that anymore. 

Peggy would have loved a good slow dance right then. Dancing always helped to lift her mood. But she knew very well it wouldn't be just anyone that would lift her spirits. Peggy could picture exactly how Steve would look; dressed up in a sharp black tux and tie with a bouquet of flowers for her. The innocence he gave off was astounding, but it was one of the things she loved about him. He wasn't completely ruined by society; he still was able to care and love purely. 

She turned and faced the front door. In her mind's eye she could see him walk nervously into the club, never having been in a place like it before. His eyes would scan the crowd until he finally saw her sitting there at the bar, and a huge goofy smile would slip across his lips as he started over. Peggy found herself smiling as he continue to cross the dance floor, awkwardly apologizing as he bumped into people before he finally found himself standing in front of her. He would lean forward and whisper in her ear, "I told you I'd make it."

"I'd hate to step on your feet."

He'd never actually gotten to finish that part. The radio cut out before he finished, but she knew deep in her heart that was what he was going to say. He had always talked about how he'd never danced with a woman and worried he would step on their feet and make them angry. A chuckle slipped through her lips as she thought about how she would have to pull him onto the dance floor the first time. He'd shyly rest his hands on her waist while she firmly wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting to let him leave again for fear she would truly lose him. 

"You want another one?"

Peggy blinked and look at the cup in her hand, realizing she had downed the scotch in the time she had been lost to her thoughts. She nodded wearily to the bar tender and watched as he went to get another Scotch prepped for her. Depression had settled on her shoulders once Peggy remembered everything that had happened, and she glanced down at her watch; 7:50 p.m. He was going to be late. As the tender brought the other scotch over she got anxious, taking the cup and speedily taking another sip to blur all her thoughts together again. It was much better than the alternative.