In a narrow alley of the town, Clara crouched behind a massive trash bin, cautiously poking out her head like a thief on lookout, spying on Happy and Ms. Daisy Jackman standing at the corner.
Ever since Christmas, the number of times Happy visited Clara had increased exponentially. Once or twice every week—always impeccably timed. He usually came while Clara was at school, then conveniently stayed long enough to pick her up after class and casually ask Ms. Daisy about Clara's recent situation.
Clara, ever the little detective, had caught the scent of something unusual.
Happy's concern for her had slowly shifted. What began as genuine care had turned into subtle, roundabout questions about Ms. Daisy's family, hobbies, and—most tellingly—whether she had a boyfriend.
Ms. Daisy was around thirty, give or take. She wasn't a breathtaking beauty, but with her glasses on and her mouth closed—especially when she wasn't scolding students—she had a gentle, bookish charm.
Most importantly, she was single. Still unmarried. No boyfriend.
Rumor had it she'd had a few in the past, but they never lasted—mostly because she cared too much about her students and was perpetually busy.
When Steve Rogers's call came through, Clara shrank deeper behind the trash bin, lowering her voice as if something monumental was about to happen.
"Hello? Who's this?"
Her tone immediately put Steve on edge. Even through the phone, he could feel the tension.
"Clara! What happened?!"
"Steve! N-no, nothing happened—really! It's Happy and Ms. Daisy—no, they're fine too! I just think Happy likes Ms. Daisy, but he's too embarrassed to ask her out. They're talking on the street right now—oh! Ms. Daisy's leaving. Looks like Happy still didn't say anything! I've gotta help him!"
She hung up and sprinted toward Ms. Daisy.
"Hi, Ms. Daisy! Are you free right now?"
"Of course. What is it, Clara?"
"There's a math problem I just can't figure out. Could you help me?"
"Sure, tell me."
"I… uh… I forgot my notebook at home. Could you come over and teach me there?"
She grabbed Ms. Daisy's hand and shot Happy a meaningful look over her shoulder.
Happy blinked, confused—then suddenly realized what was happening. His face flushed as his little secret was exposed. Still, he didn't refuse.
On the other end, Steve hung up the phone with an amused smile. This kid really did love causing trouble in the most unexpected ways.
Looking at the bustling street, Steve still had no idea where he was supposed to go. Then his thoughts drifted to the footage he'd seen earlier at the Smithsonian—
Peggy Carter.
At last, Steve decided to be brave.
He would go see her—the woman who should have been his contemporary, his partner, the one he should have grown old with. Just like before, he wanted her advice, hoping she could help him find his way out of the fog.
Peggy Carter, born April 9, 1919—an exceptional sharpshooter during World War II, courageous and resolute.
They met in the army. When Steve was still a frail, scrawny recruit, she never once looked down on him.
After the Super Soldier Serum transformed him into a symbol of hope, Peggy Carter remained the perfect dance partner in his heart.
When Steve vanished beneath the ice after his final battle with the Red Skull, Peggy co-founded S.H.I.E.L.D. with the Strategic Scientific Reserve—continuing to save the world, all while waiting for Captain America to return.
Now, he had.
But Peggy had grown old.
Nearly a hundred years old, Peggy Carter lay in her bed—wrinkled, white-haired, yet still unmistakably dignified. In her delicate features lingered echoes of the woman she once was.
"You should be proud, Peggy."
Steve looked at the photograph by her bedside—Peggy with her three children—and found words failing him.
"I lived my life," Peggy said softly. "My only regret… is that you didn't get to live yours. What's wrong?"
She could see the uncertainty in his eyes.
"I've always tried to do what I believed was right," Steve admitted, his smile tinged with bitterness. "But now… I don't know what right is anymore. I thought I could just fall back in line, follow orders, serve my country—but it's not that simple now."
"You're being dramatic," Peggy laughed gently.
This Steve hadn't changed at all—still the same idealistic young man, full of righteous fire.
"Listen, Steve," she continued. "You saved the world… and we somehow managed to mess it up again."
She meant to comfort him, but her words carried quiet resignation. Life often demanded things one didn't want to do—but had to.
"You didn't," Steve said firmly. "Half the reason I stayed with S.H.I.E.L.D. was because it was your legacy."
To him, Peggy was still the wise, composed woman he'd admired decades ago. She hadn't changed. The world had.
Peggy, however, knew better.
She was no longer the same Peggy Carter. Time hadn't just altered her body—it had changed her heart and mind as well.
"The world has changed," she said gently. "No one can go back. We can only do the best we can. And sometimes… all we can do is start over."
Steve listened intently, like a student absorbing a lesson.
Then his phone began to vibrate.
He ignored it—until it stubbornly refused to stop.
"Steve," Peggy said with a smile. "Your phone's ringing. Aren't you going to answer it?"
He chuckled and pulled it out. He'd silenced the ringer, but forgotten about the vibration. Electronics still weren't his strong suit.
"Hello…"
"Hi, Steve! Happy's alone with Ms. Daisy right now, but I don't think he's made any progress. Do you have any advice?"
Up on the second floor, Clara peeked over the stair railing, anxiously watching Happy's overly cautious conversation. She wanted to shake him—why couldn't he just ask her out like Tony Stark would?
Steve rubbed his temple. He wasn't exactly an expert himself.
"Clara," he said patiently, "whatever's going on between Happy and your teacher—that's adult business. You just focus on studying."
"Yeah, yeah, I knew you wouldn't have any ideas," Clara sighed. "I'll call Pepper instead. Oh—by the way, I'm planning to visit Washington the day after tomorrow. Are you there?"
She realized a second too late that calling another lifelong bachelor for dating advice had been a mistake.
"I am."
"Can you pick me up then? I don't know my way around D.C."
"Does Happy know you're traveling that far?"
"He said he'll take me to the airport—as long as you pick me up in Washington."
"…Alright," Steve agreed. "I'll meet you at the airport."
He had nothing else planned anyway. Spending a couple of days with Clara didn't sound bad at all.
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T/N:
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