What do you want?

This county is beautiful from above, with its patchwork of farms and forest, the sharp angles of the Rockies, the endless plains. Peggy's flown countless missions and the vastness still takes her breath away. If she had a companion to fly with, she would spend the entire trip pointing out different features along the way.

It galled her to be taken out of Dottie's interrogation right as she was beginning to get somewhere, yet she can't help but feel a small thrill as the plane begins its final descent. Los Angeles will be new territory for her, but she won't be alone. Howard Stark and Mr. Jarvis are there, and Rose. And Daniel.

Daniel requested her. Asked for her and only her. She tries to understand what that means after months of silence and unreturned calls. Back before he left New York, she sensed he was trying to keep his distance. It hurt a little—were they not friends? Was it something she had said, or done, or not done?—but she didn't press the issue. Maybe she was afraid to hear the answer.

She feels like a foreigner all over as she steps off the plane into perfect sunny weather, smiling at Mr. Jarvis waiting for her on the runway. When she was a girl, this is what she dreamed of: a life of travel and adventure and glory. A life bigger than Hampstead. So she drinks in the blue skies and the streets lined with palm trees as Jarvis whisks her off to the SSR. But when she takes the stairs up to the office and hears the phones ringing and the quick tap of men's shoes on the floor; sees Daniel standing there with his back turned, case file in one hand and crutch in the other—it feels like home.

Hello…Chief?

Peggy wants to know about Violet, but she's having trouble coming up with a subtle way to ask Rose. Asking Daniel is obviously out of the question.

She pays Rose a visit over lunch, and it turns out she doesn't even need to ask.

"They've been dating for five months," Rose tells her without hesitation. "Specializes in physical therapy—that's how they met. She's from San Diego; was stationed in North Africa during the war. Lost a brother in the Philippines. Great surfer. Makes excellent carrot cake. She's very sweet."

The only thing Peggy can say is, "Oh."

Like Peggy, Daniel's never been particularly open about his life outside of work. While most of her other colleagues would tease each other about their wives and girlfriends, they treated Daniel almost like he was a monk. Maybe she had unconsciously been doing the same thing. He certainly never volunteered anything. She wonders if he would have mentioned Violet at all, if they hadn't happened to meet already. She wonders if Violet is the first woman he's dated since he came back from the war and that's why he's so quick to propose, as if he's afraid she'll slip away if he waits.

Peggy hasn't been on a date since losing Steve. Even though she knows he would have wanted her to get on with her life, for a long time, the thought of dating someone else felt like a betrayal. And even after she was finally able to let that thought go, the idea of opening up to someone, letting herself be that vulnerable again, just…

As she's changing into Ana's purple dress and touching up her makeup to meet with Jason Wilkes, she can't help herself from thinking about Daniel getting ready to propose to Violet later that night, standing in front of the mirror and repeating a little speech. Twisting the ring nervously between his fingers. Peggy wasn't being facetious when she told him it was beautiful.

She's happy for him. She's happy for him. She's happy for him.

She's still upset over the accusations that Jason is a Russian spy, fuming over Agent Vega's words as Daniel drives them back to the SSR. How dare they try to smear Dr. Wilkes like this; never heard such rubbish in my life—calling him a Communist spy, for god's sake; if Chadwick thinks he can really get away with this then he's in for a surprise…

Daniel pauses at a stop sign and looks at her. "You're getting really worked up over this, Peggy."

"Worked up?" she explodes. "Oh, I'm just getting started."

"We'll get to the bottom of it. But what happened to Dr. Wilkes wasn't your fault. You're not responsible for the entire world."

She knows he's right, but it doesn't make her feel any better. Sometimes, it feels as though she's been dragging an invisible knapsack behind her for years, weighted down with stones. Every time somebody else dies because of her, she adds another.

"Telling myself it wasn't my fault won't bring him back, Daniel." Then, more quietly: "It won't bring any of them back."

"Peg," Daniel says gently, without taking his eyes off the road, "we all have to live with the consequences of our choices. Even the right choices. You know this."

Peggy watches him use his left foot to work the gas pedal and the brake, crossing over his right. She wonders if he's talking about Jason, or her, or himself.

"Did you get that leg in combat?" Hunt asks Daniel, looking him up and down.

"Bastogne."

Peggy already knows that; not because they had talked about it, but because she read his file. Read it a long time ago, actually, not long after she joined the SSR. She had been curious but not brave enough to ask him, so she skimmed his file briefly and put it back, ashamed of herself. If he wanted her to know these things, he would tell her. It wasn't any of her business otherwise. She tried to imagine Daniel snooping through her own file and couldn't picture it.

She put it out of her head and managed to forget about it until seven or eight months later, when she was out for drinks with the other agents and Thompson started needling Daniel again. Thompson had several rounds of bourbon in him at that point, but Peggy was quite sure he wasn't as tipsy as he was letting on. "Come on, Sousa, why won't you just tell us where it happened?"

She watched Daniel tense up and shake his head slightly before knocking back the rest of his drink. "What difference does it make to you?"

If Jack was acting more drunk than he actually was, Peggy suspected the opposite was true for Daniel. She cut in. "Let it go, Jack."

"I'm not asking for the gory details; I just wanna know where. Do I need special clearance or something?"

Daniel paid the bartender and reached for his crutch, not looking at any of them. "It's all in my file if you want to know so badly. Have a good night."

"Man of mystery," Thompson snorted after Daniel left. Peggy had to restrain herself from smacking him, though it wasn't like she had the moral high ground.

"Jesus, Carter, stop looking at me like that. Sousa will get over it."

Peggy didn't answer. She stared down into her half-finished drink, thinking about what she read in Daniel's file. It had been months, and yet she still remembered the details with perfect clarity. She wished she had never looked.

As Daniel had indicated, the SSR costume department is lacking in evening gowns, but it does have a rather nice shoulder-length red wig. "It's simple," Peggy tells Daniel as she adjusts the wig. "I'm sure girls go in and out of Hugh Jones's office all the time. I'll slip in around lunch, find the key, and slip right out. And if I get caught—" she alters her accent and simpers, "Oh, I'm so silly! I was just looking for the accounting office and I must have gotten completely turned around."

His eyes go wide. "Do that again."

She tilts her head and smiles winsomely, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers. "Hi, Chief," she giggles in her best American accent. "I'm Wanda, from accounting. I just started on Monday."

Daniel shakes his head in admiration. "You sound exactly like a girl I dated in high school."

"Really?" she asks, slipping back into her own accent.

"Yep. Her name was Lisa Englewood. She dumped me after two weeks. I must have been a pretty terrible boyfriend."

"I don't see how that could be possible," Peggy says with a smile. She reaches out to touch his arm, and then stops. He has a fiancée.

He smiles back at her. "I was fifteen, Peggy. I'm sure I was awful. I'd like to think I'm a little better now—" He cuts himself off mid-sentence and clears his throat, looking away. "Um. Anything else you need for the mission?"

The earlier awkwardness between them is back with a vengeance. "No, I think I'm ready. Thank you."

"Great," Daniel says. There's an agonizingly long silence before he adds, "Good luck."

Peggy's just about ready to use the memory inhibitor on both of them so they can forget the last two minutes ever happened.

At some point, the pain in her side where the rebar pierced through her becomes so intense that she passes beyond it. She doesn't know how they get her out of the Roxxon facility and back into the car, doesn't see the horrified looks on her companions' faces, doesn't hear the screeching of the tires as they peel out of there.

You're gonna be okay, Peg. I've got you.

As her vision begins to cloud over and her breathing gets shallow, she feels someone squeezing her shoulder. Daniel.

He's talking to her. She can't follow what he's saying but she focuses on the sound of his voice and lets it be her guide. Come on, Carter. Don't you dare quit on me.

Her entire body is trembling and she's making strange whimpering noises she didn't know could come out of her. With one bloodied hand, she reaches out and grabs his other hand, which he's using to keep pressure on the wound. If she holds onto him, maybe she won't fall.

Peggy, stay with me. Peggy, stay with me.

Stay.

Daniel says he thinks they should probably…talk. About things. Oh god. Peggy can't even think about what happened between them in the van without blushing; the look in his eyes as he leaned in, the way he turned her hand over in his (she touched him first, and it wasn't like she was innocent about his feelings).

What is wrong with her? Some lousy friend she is, waltzing in and unwittingly endangering Daniel's career and demolishing his relationship over the course of a couple weeks. He said Violet broke off the engagement because she thought he was in love with her. When Peggy's turning it over in her head later, she realizes he never denied it.

What they don't end up doing is talking. Oh, they talk about a lot of other things, like Whitney Frost and gamma cannons and whatever the hell Thompson is up to. But Daniel doesn't raise the subject again, and Peggy's certainly not about to bring it up. Get it together, Carter. Focus on the mission.

No matter how much she tries to bury it under a mountain of denial, it's too late: she likes him. A lot. She also doesn't have a clue what she should do about it.

She's so angry at Daniel that she can barely even bring herself to speak to him on the ride back to the SSR after they lose Jason to Whitney Frost. Peggy's certain Jason wouldn't actually have shot her; she's certain she could have reasoned with him, if only Daniel hadn't been so bloody quick to give up the location of the uranium rods. And then he has the nerve to tell her she needs to be dispassionate. That they might have to make hard choices, as if Jason Wilkes is somehow disposable. Peggy feels like she's been slapped when he asks her what she would have done if it had been his life on the line. She doesn't have an answer for that.

Peggy's still a little angry at Daniel later, after escaping Whitney Frost and making it back to civilization, but mostly she's relieved that he made it out of the desert alive. At one point, she catches him wincing with a hand over his stomach, notices he's a little slower on the stairs than usual (what will it take to just install a damn elevator in this building?), but of course he just shakes his head and tells her he's fine. Stubborn man.

She can't be angry with him anymore, however, as they tumble out of the window to Whitney Frost's room and into an avocado tree. There is a tense moment as they cling to the branches, hardly daring to breathe. They hear Frost say something to Joseph Manfredi, and the sound of a door closing.

Daniel's rubbing his head where he hit it on the window frame. He grins at her. "How inconsiderate of her to not have a room on the ground floor," he whispers, and Peggy has to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

Getting out of the tree without making too much of a commotion proves to be an interesting exercise. Peggy shimmies down easily, snagging Daniel's crutch along the way. Then, from the bottom, she coaches Daniel down branch by branch. "Okay, watch where you're putting your foot—no, other foot—watch your head—look out!"

He comes crashing down through the last layer of branches and lands on his ass with a loud thump. They both freeze, watching the window above them. Nothing happens, and Peggy lets out the breath she had unconsciously been holding.

She gives Daniel his crutch and a hand up. "I suppose that's one way to climb down a tree," she teases.

"Decided to expedite the process at the end there," he says, brushing leaves out of his hair. "I picked up something for you along the way." He fishes an avocado out of his pocket and gives it to her. Her fingers brush against the side of his hand, and she lets them linger there for a moment. "We can make guacamole when we get back to Stark's place."

Peggy has no clue what that is, but it sounds good to her.

The rift is closed and the zero matter vanished, but the first thing Peggy sees as she sits up and pushes her hair out of her eyes is Daniel. With Peggy on one side and Thompson on the other, they get him to his feet. "You are one lucky idiot," Thompson mutters.

Peggy doesn't trust herself to speak. She hands Daniel his crutch instead, and he takes it with a mumbled thanks. Then she steps back and just stands there looking at him, beyond words. Beyond everything except relief to see him standing in front of her, after coming so close to the edge. She can't even think about what she would have done if she had lost him. There have been too many times in her life where she has had to pick herself up after losing people. Force herself to keep moving, keep living. But to lose Daniel…no. No.

Thompson is saying something and she isn't listening. Eventually, Jarvis comes over and gently takes her by the elbow. "Miss Carter, it's time to go."

"Why did you do it?" Peggy asks Daniel, finally finding her voice.

"Because it was right," he says with a very tired smile. "Because it was my choice."

Jack drives her and Daniel back to the SSR. He suggests that Daniel ought to go to the hospital and get himself checked out, but Daniel insists he's fine. In the passenger seat, he tilts his head back and closes his eyes for most of the trip. Peggy watches him from the back seat and wonders when he chose to become the person he is now. Wonders when he heard the same voice that called to her.

Peggy could have lived the same life as her parents, contained within a twenty mile radius. She could be going with them to the same church every Sunday, reading the same paper every day, eating the same meals at precisely the same time. She tried for so long to squeeze herself into their universe and be the daughter they wanted.

Except the world was calling her name. Do more, it said. Do better.

So one day, she answered. There was no going back after that.

Later, he's reprimanding her for being reckless, scolding her for saving his life, and god, in that moment he's so infuriating and beautiful that she can't hold back any longer. She pulls him in and kisses him like she's drowning. Kisses him like the world is ending. Except it didn't end; it kept going and so will they.

Later, her body pressed up against his, she leans in and listens to his heartbeat. She twines her fingers between his and asks herself how they could have waited so long.

Later, his hands running through her hair, tracing her shoulders and the curve of her hips, he murmurs in her ear. What do you want?

Everything. The whole world. You.