#roboticonography

Steve felt a shiver go up his spine, the kind he hadn’t felt since the last time he’d been yelled at in the middle of occupied France. He turned, slowly, and joined Bucky and Peggy as they met Phillips by his car, Will moving everyone back into action at the wave of Steve’s hand.

“Sir,” Steve started, his voice far steadier than he felt when met with Phillips’ stern look.

“Col… Mister Phillips, sir,” Bucky stuttered out, the desire to call him by his rank strong enough to cause him to fumble.

Peggy stood tall and quiet, lips pressed tight to hold back a smile.

Phillips shook his head at her and eyed the boys. “What is all this?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” Steve started, only slightly bashful, “but you’re full by about half now.”

“Paying customers!” Bucky added, smiling.

Phillips shook his head. “While that’s lovely,” sarcasm dripped from his lips, “can you tell me why it looks like a circus is about to take up residence in my ski lodge?”

“Captain Rogers actually had quite the brilliant idea,” Peggy started. Steve couldn’t tell if she was trying to build him up or throw him under the bus. “We were discussing what a shame it was that they had no place to rehearse over the holiday and they had to cancel their shows and stop paying their performers because business was so bad.”

“Yeah,” Phillips groused, narrowing his eyes at her. He could tell it was a lie, but wasn’t about to let that on. “Keep going.”

“Well, sir, you see, this space is idea for rehearsing.” Steve smiled, but Phillips’ expression didn’t change and his smile faded. “It’s big and open and even has that elevated stage area. We figured if we brought some of the show up here, we could rehearse, and test out some new material.”

Phillips shook his head at Steve. “Carter’s right. That does sound just like some hair brained, half assed idea you’d have.”

“Sir, it really is ideal—” Bucky started, trying to help but still stammering a bit.

“Ideal. You keep saying that.” Phillips looked down his nose at the sergeant, causing him to snap his mouth shut. “How are you going to test out new material without an audience?” He shook his head then looked back over to the porch where Jarvis was helping Angie sort guests. “Mister Fancy Pants over there hasn’t cracked a smile since he got here, and he and his wife are the only reliable audience I can supply.”

“We were planning on taking a trip into town,” Peggy’s tone shifted, and Steve started to see the woman he was familiar with from Lehigh shine though: assured, confident, and with a plan. “Angie and I were going to spread some word-of-mouth rumors that Rogers and Barnes were up here, and that should at least get the ball rolling.”

“We ain’t never had a problem getting asses in seats.” Bucky’s smile faded when Phillips turned to him, disappointment clear on his face at his word choice. “Sir. Butts in… Derrieres in chairs.” He coughed, turning a little red. “People in the house.”

“Alright,” Phillips rolled his eyes at Bucky and looked them all over. “You can use it, though asking first might have been the better move…” He shifted his gaze, looking down his nose at Steve as if he were still a foot shorter. “But, whenever have you thought to ask first about anything, Rogers?”

Steve nodded, thinking back to when he went AWOL and against orders more times than not. “Yes, understood.”

“Good. Don’t let it happen again.” Phillips moved past them, shaking his head as he made his way towards Jarvis. “There is a lot about this showbusiness stuff I do not understand.”

~*~

By the afternoon, the ski lodge looked a different place: curtains were hung and sets were already starting to fill out the stage, while the chirus rehearsed brightly in the floor, chairs and tables pulled over to the sides of the room.

By the next morning, Peggy felt like they’d been in rehearsals already for weeks. Will was a dream: passing out scripts and sheet music, tacking down-to-the-minute rehearsal schedules to their doors, and answering any question she could come up with.

Steve and Bucky were a blur, bouncing around the lodge and leading the way as they started to tailor their show to what and who they had.

By that afternoon, Peggy had already had three rehearsals and found herself in a hastily constructed dressing room in a costume fitting with Angie in the little curtained stall next to her, the tones of the rehearsing chorus in the background.

Angie pulled the stockings up over her leg, bumping into the haphazardly hung curtains around her. “You know, I never thought this would be the kind of show I’d want to be in.”

“But?” Peggy’s voice drifted from the opposite side of the makeshift dressing room curtain where she was trying on her own costume.

Angie sighed, running her hands over the pile of white satin before she stepped into the leotard. “But… the costumes, the lights, the people…” She paused as she shimmied carefully into her costume, gently pulling the satin up over her hips. “I mean, gawd, English!” Her accent slipped heavily into her words as she fawned, running her hands over the satin. “It’s lined! I ain’t never had a lined costume before. And it don’t smell like cigarette butts, isn’t missing any spangles…” Angie sighed happily, stepping out of the one edge of the curtain and looked at herself in the mirror that was leaning against the wall there. She smiled at Ana, who was standing next to it with a measuring tape around her neck and a handful of pins. “You think they’d consider…”

Peggy huffed, still behind the curtain, the soft sounds of her voice making it clear she was having more trouble with her costume than Angie had had with hers. “Consider what?”

“Keeping us on?” Angie stood still, letting Ana move around her. Ana knelt to the floor, measuring the tulle that draped from her hips against her ankle and setting a straight pin in it.

“They’d be fools not to,” Ana chimed in. “The little that I’ve seen? You two shine next to those boys.”

“I’m sure they’d consider keeping us on for a bit,” Peggy mumbled, finally starting to sound more like herself.

“Well, if Bucky and I have our way,” Angie whispered down to Ana, a conspiratorial smile on her face, “Steve will be keeping you on for the long haul.”

“I couldn’t hear you, what was that?” Peggy called.

Angie hid her giggles. “Noth-thing,” she sing-songed, sharing another glace with Ana. “Just letting Ana make me look amazing.”

Peggy didn’t seem to hear any of their scheming and moved the conversation ahead. “How does yours fit?”

“Like a dream.” Angie smiled, but Ana frowned at her and gathered the considerable extra fabric around her bust and secured it with a pin. “Ok, so it’s got a little extra here and there, but nothing horrible, right?”

Ana smiled, speaking expertly around the pins she held in her teeth. “Not even the worst fit I’ve seen today.” She slipped them out from her lips and finished securing them in the costume, then turned Angie back to the mirror. Angie squealed in delight, and Ana turned back to the other make-shift dressing room. “What about you, Peggy?”

“I’m afraid it’s too tight.” Her voice was flat, and there was no sound of her moving to leave the small space.

“Well, don’t fret,” Ana turned back to the little table that held her tools. “Will said there’s plenty of options if we need to find another…” Ana’s words tumbled to a halt as Peggy stepped out of the curtain, eyes uncertain and hands at her sides.

“Oh no, it’s that bad?” Peggy asked, looking at herself in the mirror. “I knew it was too tight.”

Angie shook her head, eyes wide. “You’re gonna kill him.”

“What?” Peggy looked at her over her shoulder, still looking at how the black, sequined gown hugged every curve of her body in the mirror. “Who?”

“Steve! You’re gonna kill him!” Angie replied, louder this time. “The whole freakin’ Nazi army couldn’t do it and he’s gonna get one look at you in that dress and…” Angie whistled a long note as she tipped her hand down, mimicking him passing out. “Forget about tight, that’s just…”

“Stop it,” Peggy rolled her eyes, but neither Angie nor Ana missed the way her cheeks pinked up. “I don’t think I can breathe, never mind sing!”

“Actually…” Ana slipped behind Peggy, standing her up tall in the mirror. She looked her over, pulling her shoulders back and running her hand over the seams of the dress. Ana hummed, looking over where the dress hugged her tight, fingers pulling back rows of sequins to look at the seams.

“Can you fix it?” Peggy asked, meeting Ana’s eyes in the mirror. She ran her hands over her hips, “It really is quite beautiful.”

“Angie, hand me the seam ripper.” Ana grabbed Peggy’s hands and pressed them to the front of her chest, holding the sweetheart neckline with the tiny pop of red between her breasts against her chest. “Hands up, my friend, the chorus boys have been known to poke their heads in now and again.” Ana took the seam ripper from Angie and started gently pulling threads from the back. She smiled as Peggy finally took a deep breath when she was low enough.

“That feels so much better,” Peggy smiled and started to relax, but immediately pulled her hands back as the dress started to slip off of her.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ll have to put straps on it!” Angie rested her hip on the little table, frowning.

“Oh no,” Ana pointed at, then held out her hand for, the red length of ribbon by Angie’s hip. “We tuck the extra black sequins under, then match this red ribbon here to the red accents up front and turn it into a corset back. Tight where she needs it, and room to breathe!” Ana spun Peggy to show her where she was holding the ribbon against her back to simulate the crisscross that would eventually be there.

Peggy admired herself in the mirror, a small smile forming on her face. “And they’re making you do the laundry around here. What a complete misuse of talent!”

Ana chuckled, waving at Angie for some pins from the table. “Well, you’d do the laundry, too, if you saw what happened when Colonel Phillips tried.”

“Knock knock,” Bucky’s voice sounded outside the curtain, interrupting their laughter. He didn’t wait for the invitation, though, and pushed his head through, a wolffish smile on his lips. “Came to see…. Wowza.” His expression changed as soon as she took them in, eyes blatantly raking over Angie and Peggy as Ana shook her head at him, fingers still diligently pinning Peggy’s dress. “You ladies look…”

“Good?” Angie asked, spinning for him. “Amazing?” She dipped, pressing her hips out just a little too much as she came back up. “Fabulous?”

“Ten out of ten,” Bucky replied, standing tall as he stepped in the room and smiling. “Total knock outs.”

“Quite different from our usual kit,” Peggy added in, amused at his antics.

He shook his head. “Those fluffy monstrosities weren’t doing you dames justice.”

“Did you have a reason for your visit,” Ana asked, fingers finally still and resting on her hips as she turned to him, “or did you just come to ogle?”

“Nah, ogling is a perk.” He smiled and lifted his eyebrows suggestively. He turned serious quickly, “I came to see if Peggy had a few minutes tonight to go over a new song I picked for her and Steve.”

Peggy turned to him, hands still holding the dress to her chest tightly. “I’m free right after this for a few minutes.” She shook her head. “Steve and Will have my day packed.”

“He’s really working hard to make sure this goes well for the Colonel.” Bucky’s silliness melted to sincerity. “I can’t tell you what a help you girls have been.” He paused, smiling at Ana. “All of you, really.” He included Ana with a nod of his head. “Stop by my little office,” he chuckled as he referred to the corner of the barn where he’d turned a few leftover milk-crates into a makeshift desk, “and we can talk through the song. We’ll schedule you two to work on it tomorrow.”

He turned, looking Angie over again. “You think you can dance in that?”

Angie rolled her eyes at him, circled her hips then kicked her leg up so high she purposefully just missed his chin. “What do you think, Barnes?”

He nodded, fighting the smile that wanted to erupt on his face. “I think we got the best Mandy we could have asked for.” He cleared his throat and turned back to Ana. “You think these will be ready for the runs right after lunch?”

“As long as Mister Jarvis can keep the Colonel busy, you’ll have them before lunch.” Ana smiled. “It’s so nice to be sitting at a sewing machine again.”

Bucky nodded, smiling. “You know, the way things are running so smooth here, Phillips will be lucky if we don’t steal you and Jarvis for our show. We ain’t never had it run this good.”

“Maybe you should just all stay here.” Angie mused, shrugging.

Bucky turned his head quickly, surprised and intrigued. “Stay here?”

“Why not?” Angie leaned back on the small table, playing with the tulle at her hip. “Summer season in New York, winter in Vermont.” She shrugged. “You’re spending all this time and money and energy on turning this barn into a stage, why not use it?”

Bucky’s face slowly changed, his eyes turning bright as thoughts raced through his head. He pulled Angie to him and smacked an energetic kiss on her cheek. “Bless you, I might get two hours to myself!”

The three women watched in amazement as he bounded out of the curtain. “You think he’s ever going to tell us what that’s about?” Peggy mused, shaking her head at the swinging curtain.

“I certainly hope so,” Angie groused. “I’m nosy and it’s driving me nuts not asking!”

~*~

The barn was chilly, and Peggy kept wrapped tight in the fluffy robe while she waited in the empty house, only a few sparse chairs here and there for the afternoon’s run through of the numbers that had been rehearsed already.

The majority of the show already existed and just needed to be adjusted for people who weren’t there or who were in new roles. It was just the numbers with Peggy and Angie, and the few things Steve and Bucky planned on changing, that needed to be taught and rehearsed.  Steve and Bucky had an amazing cast that dazzled her for the majority of the afternoon. She and Angie had watched nearly a dozen fabulous numbers make their way across the stage already. She and Angie still needed to learn quite a bit, but Steve and Bucky had been adamant they be involved in this first run.

On stage, Angie smiled as she spun and dipped, flanked by a bevy of strong men in green suits. Peggy couldn’t help but smile as they lifted her high. Angie loved every little thing about this show, and Peggy was going to move heaven and earth to make sure Rogers and Barnes kept her with them even when this was over. Peggy didn’t mind and even enjoyed singing to little crowds. All she wanted was a piano and a microphone and for the people she sang for to enjoy what she was doing and not be a part of a genocidal political party, and she’d be happy. Angie needed more. Angie wanted the rush of the stage and quick changes and the excitement of a standing ovation.

Peggy didn’t know what she was going to have to do to make that happen for her, but if she could take down Hydra, she could get her friend a job in this show.

“Mandy, there’s a minister handy…” the chorus sang brightly, most of them in costume, a handful of them only partly dressed as coats and pants waited to be altered. Angie looked like a pop of fresh snow in her white leotard against the red and green chorus and set. Peggy wondered at the way she moved, at how fast she’d learned the complicated duets and high-flying lifts over the staircase. Peggy was brave, but she didn’t know if she’d take her life in her hands and throw herself off stairs into the waiting arms of chorus boys she’d only met the day before.

Movement caught her eye, and she looked forward in the audience to see Steve sitting in his chair, a makeshift table of crates in front of him, his foot tapping along as he made notes. She watched the shadows curve over his silhouette, entranced at how he kept time and did so many other things at once.

“Ma’am?”

The voice startled her, and she looked up to find Will there, clipboard in hand. “Yes?”

“You’re next.”

She nodded, thanking him and slipping away. She was nervous. Steve had asked her to pick a song this morning in a rush between rehearsals. She hadn’t said much but simply nodded, memories of the night before burning to redden her cheeks as he walked away.

She’d never told anyone about her nightmares before, and while it made her feel so exposed, she’d also never slept as soundly, or feeling as safe, as she had when she’d gone back to bed that night.

She’d pulled the sheet music out of her bag, unsure, but had handed it to their pianist that morning, anyway. Now, as she slipped out of her robe and stood on the side of the stage in the sparkling black dress that Ana had so masterfully and quickly altered, Will ushering a single microphone to the center and one spotlight flickering to life for her, she was suddenly more nervous than she’d ever been.

The sounds of her heels on the wooden stage seemed too loud as she moved to take her place, her heart seemed to pound in her chest at the quiet breaths she could hear from the dark, mysterious audience. The dress all of a sudden felt too tight and too revealing.

He wasn’t going to like it.

She was going to pour her heart out in song, and he was going to hate it.

The song wouldn’t be right for the show.

The dress would be too much.

She wouldn’t be good enough to sing solo for a big show like this.

She’d never felt nerves like this before, but suddenly there was the familiar cord of the piano, and a calm descended over her. She stepped up to the microphone and took hold of it, closing her eyes.

If she could sing to the highest levels of Hitler’s regime and pretend to like it, she could damn well sing to Captain Rogers and enjoy it.

She took a deep breath, and her voice flowed out, low and honeyed. “How glad a million laddies, from millionaires to caddy’s would be… to capture me.” She took another slow breath and opened her eyes. “But you had such persistence, you wore down my resistance. I fell,” she smiled, the nerves flowing out of her and confidence building, “and it was swell.”

“You’re my big and brave and handsome Romeo,” she continued, shoulders starting to move with the cords of the piano. “How I won you I shall never, never know.” She set both hands on the microphone. “It’s not that you’re attractive, but oh, my heart grew active when you… came into view.”

She drew in a slow deep breath, wishing there was a drum to pull the low notes out of, to help her find the sway, but continued anyway. “I’ve got a crush on you, sweetie pie. All the day and night time, hear me sigh.” She let her voice lift high, soaring and falling with the melody. “I’ve never had the least notion, that I could fall with so much emotion.”

She continued singing, looking out into the dark where she saw a figure stand. It was only shadows, but she kept singing, watching as the shadowy figure stepped slowly closer and closer.

In Germany she would have tensed, let her hand slip lower to her thigh holster if anyone stood and approached while she was singing. Now, she let her hand slide over the sequins to her thigh, dipping forward and falling deeper into the music as she sang.

She’d always loved this song: always wished she’d fully feel what she thought it could be, always wished she’d know the kind of love that it extolled, and imagined night after night as she sang it that there was some sort of big love out there for her.

The shadowy figure continued to move forward, and it felt like a dream: like as soon as he stepped close enough into the light he’d reveal himself as her great love. It felt like a moment from a movie or a romance novel.

“We could share the world,” she let the note soar just as Steve stepped into the light, the shadows falling away around him, his face smooth and hard to read, but his eyes on her. “Well, pardon my mush,” she continued, looking him right back in the eyes, “but, I have got a crush,” she smiled, licking her bright red lips, but he didn’t move, “my baby, on you.”

She let the last note linger as the piano played low, concluding cords. She gently held the microphone stand with both hands, catching her breath.

Steve nodded once, almost a hint of a smile on his face, before he turned and left the barn.

She pretended not to feel hurt by the sound of his footsteps moving away, and instead smiled up at the raucous applause coming from those in the theater. She tried to focus on the wolf whistles and the bright, happy cheers from Angie whose voice she could pick out in any crowd, instead of the tightening in her chest.

~*~

He should go back.

He paced outside the barn; hands shoved in his pockets.

She was amazing. Her voice was far better than he could have imagined from their silly sister act, and that dress.

Good God, that dress.

He wasn’t sure if he should thank or fire Ana, but she looked amazing.

Too good for their little show.

He’d been compelled to stand, to go up close and see her, to see for himself that the notes coming out of her lips were her own, to be closer to the amazing energy she exhuded from that stage.

She didn’t belong in a little sister act.

He wanted to feature her, front and center in the show, let the world know what her voice and those hips could do.

He tried to shove away those thoughts: what she looked like in that dress, the stirrings that song made him feel deep in his belly, how her hand had felt so right in his just the night before.

How he wanted to make her front and center in his life.

He should go back. She’d be insulted he left.

The last thing he wanted to do was insult her.

God, he wanted to kiss her.

He turned, moving back to the barn, and ran straight into her.

Their arms both shot out, steadying the other. They spoke pleasantries of “sorry” and “excuse me” over one another until Steve shook his head, cleared his throat, and stepped back. “That was beautiful, Peggy.”

She looked at him for a second, stunned. “I— I thought you didn’t like it,” she barely whispered out, “You left.”

“I had to think,” he replied, knowing it was a silly excuse. “You’re far more talented than you give yourself credit for, and… and…” His hands twisted infront of him as he tried to find the right words.

She bit back her smile. “So, you liked it?”

Steve nodded, suddenly feeling like a shy schoolboy. “I did. You were right. A microphone and a piano are all you need to be amazing.”

He felt butterflies fill his stomach at her smile. “Thank you.”

The stirrings of the piano and the next number floated out to them. He shrugged and tipped his head. “I should…”

“I need to…” Peggy pointed towards her cabin, nodding and bouncing her hair over the robe.

“I loved it,” Steve whispered, suddenly serious, before darting past her to head back into the barn.

He sat back in his chair and picked up his pen, trying to pretend he was doing anything but thinking of her.

“What the hell was that?” Bucky leaned over and asked.

Steve waved him off. “I just needed some air.”