Chapter Text
My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue,
All's well that ends well to end up with you
( Lover | Lover )
January 8, 2020
Clinking glasses and the stringent aroma of percolating coffee from down the hall slowly pulled Maggie from her deep sleep. Lazily blinking awake, she took a moment and remained buried under her blankets, unmoving as consciousness invaded her brain and a small smile spread across her lips. Another year was in the books; twenty-nine had arrived, marking the beginning of the end of her roaring twenties. Truth be told, the past ten years hadn’t all been a barrel of monkeys.
Although the decade had been tainted by the loss of her parents and the chaos of the changing world, she couldn’t deny that she also felt as though she’d finally found her place in the world at the same time. It was like puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place and things made sense. Every day, she went to work at a job that she adored, she’d made new friends, kept old ones, had a happy social life, and she was extremely content in her new relationship with a wonderful guy.
Everything was coming up Maggie.
Shoving the layers of blankets from her body, she sat up and stretched her arms high above her head. A small groan slipped from her lips before she relaxed her limbs; they felt like jelly as she closed her eyes for one last moment, soaking in the last dregs of sleep before taking a deep breath and moving to stand. As if she went on autopilot, Maggie began the routine that she’d come to know so well since moving in. Glasses, brushing her teeth, splashing her face with cool water, absentmindedly scrolling on her phone for several minutes before realizing she was simply wasting time.
From where it hung on the back of her bathroom door, she pulled the cozy black robe that Natasha had given her for Christmas the year before. She allowed herself to bask in the luxurious softness of the silky fabric as she tied it around her waist, making her way down the hall. The smell of hot coffee got stronger with each step, and she gave a quiet hum at the imminent possibility of caffeine. The heavy steps in the kitchen were indicative of only one of the apartment’s occupants; the other was far too trained in the art of reconnaissance to have such a loud presence.
Turning the corner, she spotted Steve as he moved around the kitchen. She watched him silently, reveling in the time that she had until he noticed her presence. Despite it being almost seven in the morning, he was still in his pajamas; clad in his usual pairing of a t-shirt and plaid, flannel pajama pants that Maggie was hellbent on stealing at some point because they seemed far too cozy to ignore. His face was scruffy, the way Maggie liked it, and his dirty blonde hair was mussed from sleep, sticking out with cowlicks at odd angles and making the devilishly handsome man look boyishly cute.
She jumped as the toaster popped out several pieces of bread and at her soft, sharp inhale, Steve finally turned to look at her. His enhanced hearing was hard-pressed to miss even the faintest sound that she’d made. Pushing her glasses up as they slid down the bridge of her nose, she shot him a sleepy smile and wiggled her fingers at him in a small wave. Her voice, still raspy from sleep, was quiet when she spoke, “Good morning, handsome.”
“Good morning to you, beautiful.” He padded across the hardwood floor, easily carrying two mugs. With a gentle kiss that lingered just a second less than she had wanted it to, he pulled away as she gave a quiet grumble of discontent. He chuckled, carefully handing her the smaller coffee cup, “Sugar and that cinnamon, oat milk stuff you like.”
“God, you’re the best.” She hummed, taking a sip of it. The warmth of the liquid spread through her, filling her before radiating out to her fingers and toes on the cold winter morning.
Sometimes she was struck with just how much he knew about her; her coffee preferences, her go-to orders at their favorite restaurants, the fact that she liked being the one to lock the door behind them so she knew it was done, the way she preferred to bundle up with several blankets instead of just turning the heat higher. Suddenly the warmth in her chest was from something more than her morning beverage.
Maggie nodded to the mug in his hand and gave him a mischievous smile, “You know, one day, I’ll get you to let me use that mug.”
It was a kitschy souvenir that she’d seen in a vintage store a few months earlier; she’d picked it up and purchased it immediately, giggling all the while as she brought the goofy gift home to him. It was an unsuspecting mug, just plain navy blue but there was a decal of a brown tabby cat in a familiar star-spangled suit, and in red script, it read ‘‘Catain’ America’ below the image. He’d used it for his coffee every morning since.
“Maybe someday.” Steve grinned, pulling out a bar stool for her, pressing a kiss to her temple as she took a seat. Across the counter, she spotted a thick piece of drawing paper face down on the surface with her name scrawled on the back of the page. With a tilt of her head, she furrowed her brow and sat up to get a better look; she quickly realized what he’d done. Steve’s eyes followed her’s to the object and he opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off before he could get another word in edgewise.
“I told you I didn’t want any gifts!” Maggie shook her head reproachfully, but she couldn’t hide her smile. Even with her stipulations, Steve couldn’t stick to the rules. She’d told him, Natasha, and Poppy that she didn’t want anything for her birthday this year; there was nothing that she wanted aside from spending time with the ones she loved most. Though, she’d forgotten to extend the same request to her surrogate uncle, and she’d been alerted that there would be a delivery later in the evening. She’d made a note to herself to tell him thank you before gently reminding him about her request for the following years which he always seemed to ignore.
“It’s not a gift!” Steve defended with a small shrug, picking up the drawing and keeping it just out of her reach. He searched for the right words as he continued slowly, “It’s just a…”
“It totally counts as a gift.” Maggie interjected knowingly as he trailed off. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he returned the look before breaking after several moments of silence.
“Okay, maybe it is.” He glanced down at the charcoal pencil marks on the paper before looking back up at her with a fond smile, “But in my defense, you’re my favorite muse.”
“I better be your only muse.” She teased, setting her mug down carefully before she walked behind him to get a look at the drawing.
“That too.” Steve chuckled as her arms wrapped around him from behind, the chair putting him at the perfect height for her chin to rest gently on his shoulder. He tilted the paper so she could see it better. Like he’d done the year before, he’d drawn her. It was almost a perfect recreation of a moment they’d shared months earlier; she was sitting cross-legged on a blanket on the lawn outside, bundled in a warm sweater as the autumn leaves fell from the trees behind her.
A small smile softened her expression as she trailed a finger over the lines. It was one of her favorite moments that they’d shared, but it hadn’t occurred to her that Steve’s photographic memory would permit him to recount the image in perfect detail. The plaid scarf that had been wrapped tightly around her neck, her staticky bronze curls that had been mussed and swept about by the swirling wind from that day, the clear plastic airplane cup of red wine in her hand as she laughed at something he’d said.
He always knew exactly how to take her breath away; she tightened her hold on him and buried her face in his neck, muffling her voice, “I love it.” She gently pressed her lips to the smooth skin just below his jaw, “Thank you, Steve.”
Turning, he pulled her close and she allowed herself to bend to his will. He grinned as she situated herself, sitting sideways across his legs while she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder comfortably. The brief time that they had together each morning before she went into work had quickly become her favorite part of the day. He pressed a kiss to her hair and murmured, “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
Their blissful bubble of morning relaxation was broken by an annoyed groan before a familiar voice complained, “I was going to say happy birthday, but I haven’t known a single day of peace since you two got together.”
The corner of Maggie’s lips twitched into a smile at Natasha’s complaints and her shoulders shook with silent laughter. She sat up and gave the blonde an innocent shrug, “I mean, it’s technically your fault.”
“You’re the one who set us up.” Steve held Maggie tighter, not wanting to let her go just yet, and nodded in agreement.
“I should have just let you two figure it out in your own time.” Her tone was filled with an amused annoyance. Maggie had to admit, they had become a little insufferable over the past week since becoming a couple. They spent most of their spare time with their lips locked but, in their defense, they had a lot of lost time to make up for. Natasha filled her glass with ice, raising her voice slightly over the clinking as she continued, “Then again, Rogers probably would have gone gray by the time he manned up enough to tell you—”
Steve cut her off, grumbling quietly, “Would not.”
“You’d look really good gray.” Maggie appeased him, running a hand through his hair that had grown almost as long as it was when she met him. The soft, messy strands slipped through her fingers, and she felt some of the tension leave his body, relaxing into her touch.
“Mmm, thank you.” Steve took her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm before placing another, deeper one on her lips.
“Ugh.” At Natasha’s interruption, Maggie pulled back quickly, shooting her a half-apologetic glance as her tongue darted out to wet her lips while Steve merely shrugged, a small smug smile on his face at annoying his old friend. She was halfway out of the room as she announced, “I’m leaving. I can’t stand to see you two sucking face anymore.”
Maggie teased, her grin almost audible in her sing-song voice, “No promises we won’t still be here when you get back.”
“You and your boyfriend are the worst.” Natasha’s words echoed down the hall as she called over her shoulder.
“Love you too, Nat.” Maggie added quickly, her words punctuated by the firm shutting of Natasha’s bedroom door. Laughing softly, she rested her head back on Steve’s broad shoulder. She tucked her face back into his neck, closing her eyes and inhaling the familiar scent that was quintessentially him, a faint whisper of soap and cologne that made her feel at home.
It was moments like this where she felt like, maybe, everything had needed to happen for a reason. Maybe she’d had to go through everything just to finally end up where she was, in the kitchen, in his arms. There was a calm sense of contentment that filled her; she wanted nothing more than to float away in their stolen moment.
“That’s new.”
The rumble of his quiet voice prompted Maggie and she hummed, her tired eyes still shut, “Hm?”
“Boyfriend.”
The word that fell from Steve’s tongue was riddled with something that she wasn’t quite able to decipher. Sitting up slowly, Maggie pulled back to cautiously meet his eyes. “Oh.” They hadn’t had that discussion, the ‘what are we’ discussion. She’d just assumed that they were exclusive to one another.
A monogamous couple.
Significant others.
She chewed her bottom lip for a moment as she attempted to pin down where his thoughts were, “I didn’t know—”
“I like it.” He cut her off before she could get caught too deep in the current of her thoughts, a crooked smile on his face making one appear on her own.
At his statement, Maggie exhaled a breath she didn’t realize that she’d been holding as a sense of relief filled her, “You do?”
He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and nodded with a fond look of nostalgia in his eye, “Never been someone’s boyfriend before.”
“Well, I’d really like it if you were mine.” Sliding her arms back around his neck, Maggie leaned in, her breath ghosting across his lips as she spoke before capturing them in a sweet kiss once more. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste and the bitter black coffee on his tongue, a combination she’d become oddly fond of since their dalliance began.
He leaned back, ignoring her quiet whine of disappointment as he raised an eyebrow, “Does that make you my girlfriend?” She nodded, pulling him back in by the crewneck collar of his t-shirt, still not ready to separate from him yet, just wanting to soak in their last moments of the morning together. Maggie could feel him laugh before murmuring against her lips, “I’m a lucky guy, then.”
“You’re both menaces.” Maggie complained as Steve guided her into their home, his hands covering her eyes as they stepped off the elevator; she was careful to avoid the small lip in the floor that she knew her heel would get caught in. She heard Natasha let out a short snort from across the room and huffed quietly at her amusement, “You can move your hands, I won’t peek.”
“You and I both know that’s a lie, Mags.”
“I just don’t like surprises.” She defended. That was an understatement; she loathed surprises. She hated not knowing plans or events and not being able to tweak things to work more efficiently.
“And I don’t care.” Natasha shot back, flicking the lighter to ignite the single candle atop a cupcake that had been delicately swirled and decorated with white icing. After Steve’s disastrous attempt to bake a cake a year earlier, and Maggie stepping in to save the day, the heroes had elected to go out and purchase the birthday confections to save everyone a headache.
“I care.” Steve pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder from where he stood behind her.
“Do I need to buy a spray bottle?” Natasha’s annoyance bled into her voice and Maggie grinned, unable to see her friend but aware that she could see her; like the mature twenty-nine-year-old she now was, she stuck her tongue out at the spy.
“Can I open my eyes yet? Or did you burn down the kitchen and there’s nothing left so you’re trying to hide it from me? Or is this supposed to—”
“Do you ever stop talking?” The blonde muttered exasperatedly, carefully carrying the small cupcake on the plate to where Steve had helped Maggie find a seat at the countertop, shielding the flame of the candle so it didn’t extinguish on the short walk. “I think I liked you better when you were quiet.”
“Mm, but that’s the thing. I just didn’t know you yet.” A fond smile played at the corners of Maggie’s lips as she gave a small shrug. After moving in, she’d quickly become comfortable with Steve and Natasha. Though intimidating, they both just had the ability to make her feel like she belonged there.
“Okay, fine.” Natasha sat the plate down gently, “Open them.”
As Steve removed his hands, Maggie opened her eyes eagerly. She squinted as her pupils adjusted to the sudden influx of light and her gaze landed on the miniature cake before her. She exhaled softly before pressing her lips together, a rush of affection swelling in her heart. She gave Natasha’s hand a gentle squeeze and pressed a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek.
“Make a wish.” Steve nodded at the rapidly melting candle and Maggie squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe the world was still in tatters. Maybe she was one of the only lucky ones. Maybe she was selfish, but there wasn’t anything that she wanted more than for things to stay just as they were now. She gave a gentle blow from her pursed lips, the steady stream quickly snuffing out the flame.
By the time she opened her eyes, Maggie felt her breath catch as she watched Steve pull out a wide, shallow box that had been carefully wrapped, a bow glued to the top just slightly crooked. He’d obviously done it himself.
She looked at him reproachfully, “Steve, I told you—”
“And I made an executive decision to ignore it.” He held it out for her, daring her to argue or reject the gift. After a moment of silently arguing with their eyes, she accepted it, brushing a hand over the bow, a lump rising in her throat as her finger traced the gold foil.
“I’m…going to go grab some drinks.” Natasha read the room easily, sensing the sudden change in its energy. Hastily, she made her way to the small bar across the large room. Her training made her keenly aware of shifts in emotion.
Birthdays were always difficult—well, her own birthday was, at least. There was something incredibly bittersweet about her years continuing to pass when her parents’ had ceased far too soon. Her therapist had told her it was survivor’s guilt; she initially wrote it off as psychobabble. She hadn’t even been around when the attack occurred. It hadn’t made sense until several years after their deaths when she realized that a part of her wished she could have taken their place. It didn’t feel fair that she had to adjust to a world without them. It felt like Groundhog’s Day every year when her breath was taken away as she realized that they’d never see the person that she’d grown in to. They would never know everything she’d achieved. They’d never meet the person she’d marry or the children she’d have one day. To them, she would forever be the naïve, evergreen twenty-one-year-old that they’d left behind.
Each year, she hoped the day would pass without notice, but Poppy hadn’t ever allowed that to happen—even when she was across the globe. She always sent Maggie a card reminding her how loved she was and how lucky she was to have found such a good friend. Like their daughter, the Stewarts always called to check in and sent a small bouquet to her home. And now, it seemed as though Steve and Natasha had joined in on the annual festivities.
Steve chuckled, grounding her back in the present moment as he nodded to the small box, “Are you gonna open it?”
“Oh—yeah.” She exhaled a soft half-laugh before she cleared her throat, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.
Maggie carefully removed the lid and unfolded the tissue paper revealing a gold locket, suspended from a thin, threadlike chain. In the center of the oval pendent was a small red, garnet surrounded by engraved lines that looked like a starburst. Her birthstone. It may have been the most thoughtful gift she’d ever received. Slipping her nail in the metal seam, she gently pried it open to find it empty.
“I didn’t want to be presumptuous…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his ears turning red from a blush. “I didn’t know if you’d want a picture of us or me or—”
Maggie cut him off with her hand on his cheek and her lips on his. It was a gentle kiss, devoid of the urgency they usually embodied. She pulled back, her forehead resting against his as her eyes stayed closed, not wanting to cry at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you.” Her voice was soft, the crack barely audible to even herself, “It’s beautiful.”