AN: I watched the first episode of Agent Carter and this happened. Because you can never have too much angst.

Saturday night came. Peggy Carter had never been much for going out, and the war had curtailed what little social life she had, but in the back of her closet she found the dress she had bought in a moment of feminine enthusiasm. It was only a few years out of style, and it still fit. She curled her hair, brushed mascara on her lashes, and put on her fiercest shade of lipstick. Last was a pair of heeled pumps, red to match the dress.

When it was all done, she took a moment to admire the effect in the mirror. She looked good, she thought. Beautiful, even. Sexy, certainly. She imagined Stark's expression if he saw her like this, and smiled a little. She carefully did not imagine Steve's expression.

She caught a taxi and reached the Stock Club at ten minutes till. The interior was dim and smoky in an expensive sort of way. On the dance floor, couples moved in time to the jazz band. Around the edges of the room, couples sat together at small tables. Everywhere she looked she saw men and women smiling, laughing, touching.

She found a table in a dark corner and ordered a gin and tonic. As she waited for her drink, her eyes strayed to the door again and again. Every tall man that walked into the club made her heart beat faster, though she knew she was being a fool. She could not help but feel that some kind of miracle was going to happen. It was like a magic spell: if she performed the correct actions in the correct sequence, she would get what she wanted. They had promised to meet at the Stock Club at eight this Saturday; she was here, so he must be here also.

The waiter came with her drink, but she ignored it. She checked her watch. 7:58 Now she would allow herself to imagine—no, anticipate—what he would say about her dress, her lipstick. 7:59 She could see him, so clearly in her mind's eye, stepping through the doorway, his eyes sweeping the room, looking for her. 8:00 Now, now was the moment the magic would take hold and he would appear—

8:01

Maybe he's late.

8:02

Maybe you're a fool.

At 8:03 Peggy Carter pressed her hand against her mouth to stifle a sob. Her fingers came away red with lipstick, like blood. There was no magic. She was a fool and he was dead. There was no magic.