RABBIT HEART || MARVEL (1)

EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE FIRST SUPER-SOLDIERS

THE NEXT MORNING

THE DAY HAD COME, THEY DAY THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING.

Maggie was barely able to sleep the night before. Dr Erskine's words along with her own father's repeated in her mind. Steve was up before her, being the one to wake her for the big day ahead of them. Peggy came to escort them off the base a couple minutes after, giving them time to get dressed.

Maggie sat in between Steve and Peggy in the back of their escort car. Since she was the skinniest in waist, she had no choice to be in the middle. The ride was silent, but the brunette and her blonde friend stared out at the familiar streets.
"Hey, Mags. Remember this neighborhood?" Steve asked. "I got beat up in that alley...and that vacant lot...and behind that diner."

"Yes, Steve, I remember," Maggie chuckled. "I'm pretty sure you've been beaten up in every alley in Brooklyn."

"Did you have something against running away?" Peggy asked Steve.

"You start running, they'll never let you stop. You stand up, you push back...they can only tell you
"no" for so long, right?" Steve told her.

"I know a bit what that's like. To have every door shut in your face."

She looked at the two friends with empathy. Maggie could relate to Peggy in a way. They were both progressive women living in a world where they were inferior to the the opposite sex.

"Who'd shut a door on you? I figure guys would be climbing over each other to hold them open," Steve said to Peggy doing his best to flirt.

'Oh dear God. He's going to make this worse, Maggie thought to herself.

"Depends which door you're trying to go through," Peggy answered.

"I guess I don't know why a beautiful...agent...why would she want to join the army anyhow? She could do whatever she wanted."

Maggie slapped her forehead with an open palm. She was hoping he'd stop talking, but no. He continued to ramble, which made things more awkward.

"You don't know an awful lot about women, do you?" Peggy asked the blonde.

"You got me all wrong, Agent Carter," Steve started, trying to sound smooth. "I don't know anything about women. This is probably the longest conversation I've ever had with one that isn't Maggie."

"It shows, " Maggie agreed. "He can barely speak to me sometimes."

Peggy gave a small laugh at the pair before Steve continued.

"She's not lying," Steve backed up. "Think about it; I don't have any money, so I can't take them to dinner. I'm... kinda short. That doesn't help.
Ever. And I don't dance, so that's off the table."

"You must have at least danced," Peggy said.

"Standing on my mom's feet when I was seven. I don't know. Asking a girl to dance seemed so terrifying, and then in the last few years it didn't seem so important. I figure I might as well wait."

"For what?"

He shrugged, looking out the window. "The right partner."

"And what about you, Maggie? Do you dance?" Peggy asked the brunette.

"Occasionally yes. My fiancé used to take me out dancing every weekend until he was drafted," Maggie answered.

"So that must explain the ring on you finger," she deduced. "What infantry?"