I do not own Captain America.

Chapter 1: Stood Up

"Agent Carter, where the h*** do you think you're going?" Colonel Phillips yelled.

Peggy looked at him stoically and replied. "Back to my room, sir. I need to change for my date tonight."

"A date?" The Colonel was flabbergasted. "We're in the middle of an important strategy meeting and you are going to go change for a date?"

"Yes, sir. I'm technically off duty right now, and I have nothing to add to this conversation. So good evening."

Watching her walk out of the war room, Phillips could be heard to mutter under his breath, "This is what you get when you let dames join the army."

All eyes were on Peggy Carter as she entered the Stork Club. She looked more exquisite than ever in her flowing white skirt with black halter bodice. Her brown curls were swept off her face, as per usual, but hung loose in the back. Her dress stopped just above her ankles, showing off her black stilettos with rhinestone buckles that matched the brooch at her deep, v-shaped neckline and the clips in her hair. All of the dateless men in the room, who had come on business, were lining up to ask her to dance. With each request, her answer was the same, "I'm sorry, but I'm waiting for the right partner."

Howard Stark knew better than to join the throng of men. He had heard her make the date for this evening. He knew for whom she was waiting. He shook his head. Agent Carter was just setting herself up for more heartbreak. He'd had his teams combing the Atlantic all week. Captain Steven Rogers, if he hadn't died instantly in the crash, was certainly dead by now. The right partner was never going to come along.

Hours passed. Stark's colleagues had left the nightclub, but he was rooted to his seat. He watched Peggy Carter closely. She hadn't left her table since she arrived. She'd downed the entire bottle of wine he'd sent to her with his compliments. When it had arrived, she had smiled and nodded at him, raised her glass to him before taking her first sip. It was the best wine in the house; he could afford it. What he couldn't understand was how she still held her perfect British posture. She had to be roaring drunk.

When he saw the tear slide down her cheek, Howard could no longer sit idly by. He hoped his playboy reputation wouldn't cause her to take his actions in the wrong way. What Peggy Carter needed right now was a friend, and he was determined to be that friend.

"Agent Carter, may I join you?"

Her accent was only mildly slurred when she responded. "Sure." She shrugged. He'd never seen her shrug before.

"You know, we never did get a chance to stop in Lucerne for fondue," he commented.

"No, we didn't."

"You should eat something, Agent Carter. It's not Lucerne, but I think we could scrounge up some fondue at my place."

"Mr. Stark, I hope you don't think I'm so drunk as to…"

Howard interrupted. "Just fondue, maybe some coffee to balance the effects of the wine. I know my reputation, Peggy, but trust me when I say I consider you a friend and I would never take advantage of our friendship."

"Thank you, Howard. Fondue and coffee sounds delightful."