❝ 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌 𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘓𝘌𝘍𝘐𝘌𝘓𝘋 ❞
"𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝗲."
⤷ In the midst of World War II, a sharp-minded woman finds company in a genius billionaire when her...
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The adrenaline from the previous fight was still pumping through (Y/N)'s veins, even as they rolled out of the facility's sight and disappeared into the thick, snow-covered forest. The aircraft that would take Thompson, Peggy, Ramirez and (Y/N) back to the States was already waiting for them, its propellers spinning in fast circles and lifting the snow off the ground.
"Good luck," Dugan said as he shook Thompson's hand in farewell. The latter was quite shocked by the words and could only respond with a polite 'thank you'.
Dugan had already moved onto the other man, also reaching to shake his hand. "Ramirez."
"It was an honor."
Ramirez joined Thompson on the walk to the aircraft, leaving Peggy and (Y/N) by themselves with their friends. (Y/N) had her palms together and was creating friction between them in order to warm her fingers, but her attempts were useless — if there was one thing she didn't miss from being out in the field, it was the cold she had to endure.
"You sure you want to get on that plane?" Dugan faced the two women, walking over to them. "Commandos can always use other good fighters. We just need to come up with the appropriate nicknames for you."
"As tempting as that is, I'll have to decline," (Y/N) flashed him an apologetic smile. "It's time I put my days on the front lines behind me."
"Besides, someone needs to mind the wheel back in the States," Peggy added, elbowing (Y/N) playfully. "And I suppose someone needs to convince the SSR of Howard's innocence, wanker or not."
(Y/N) raised her arms to envelop Dugan in a farewell hug. "I'll miss you."
"Miss you too," he accepted the gesture and responded with the same amount of affection. When (Y/N) pulled back, he moved toward Peggy to do the same.
"Wait a second."
He paused for a moment, which made (Y/N) and Peggy look at each other with questioning looks.
"Miss 'U'. . .Miss Union Jack." Dugan exclaimed, his fingers pointing at Peggy with a smile. Then, his eyes moved to (Y/N). "Um. . .Miss. . .'Miss Liberty Belle'. What do you think, fellas? Huh?"
"Absolutely not."
"Never speak again."
"Okay," Dugan's shoulders deflated at his ideas being shut down. But then, he recovered by focusing his attention on the psychiatrist. "And, doc, what about you? Need a ride home?"
