Despite the fact that spring had, theoretically, arrived in England, it was still blowing a chilly wind over the airfield when the plane bearing the last mortal remains of Margaret Carter landed. Steve and Lucy had arrived a few hours before, the children safely in the care of Johnny and Liv, who had chosen not to come with them for this. They would be there for the funeral, of course, but the majority of this sad little visit belonged to Steve and his wife.

Lucy drew in a slow breath, watching as the hearse drew up to the plane, her throat tight with unshed tears. This was almost the last leg of Peggy's journey; in a few days, she would be taken on the very last, and laid to rest with her family. It seemed fitting, somehow, that there were so few here to see the coffin arriving on English soil; to know that the church would be filled to the brim with friends, family, people who had known and loved Peggy Carter for the wonderful woman she had been. But for now, Lucy felt very alone as she stood on the tarmac, watching the Union Jack draped coffin as it was brought out of the plane and placed reverently into the waiting hearse.

It had been a very long time since Steve had been to England, and he knew it had likely changed as much as his native New York, but this was what Peggy had wanted, and this was what Steve had promised. He was a little ashamed to admit that it was something of a relief to be here alone with Lucy, without Johnny and Liv and the children and Nick Fury and Tony Stark and whoever else wanted to pay their respects. There would be time for that in a few days, but for now, it was up to him and Lucy to make all the arrangements, and he had a feeling they needed this time more than the others to say their good-byes in private and lay Peggy to rest.

Be strong when you need to be and let them take care of you when you need them. Peggy's words - more or less - still echoed loudly in his head. The long flight across the Atlantic had passed mostly in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. It had all seemed a little eerie, a little surreal, but now that they were here, hand in hand, tearfully watching as Peggy's casket was taken from the plane, it seemed far too real. Steve gave Lucy's hand a small squeeze, as if to remind her he was right there beside her. They were the ones who'd invited Peggy into their home and their hearts, and they were the ones who would miss her the most.

Leaning into him, Lucy clung to his hand, trying hard not to cry yet again. Despite their bumpy start, she had grown very fond of Peggy. If it wasn't for Peggy, she would never have learned how to cook; she would never have learned how to make the most of the time she had; she would never have learned to recognize the signs in Steve that declared he needed her to listen. She had learned so much from the woman, and now ....she was gone. It had been strange, that first morning without her; the strange quality of the silence in the early hours that told them she was no longer there. It was a silence they would have to get used to all over again. As they watched, the honor guard - made up of volunteers from S.H.I.E.L.D. - saluted the coffin as the hearse pulled away, taking Peggy to the funeral home where she would remain until the funeral itself.

Steve stood, nearly at attention, as the honor guard saluted Peggy's coffin. It was hard to take the soldier out of the man, and if anyone deserved that salute it was Peggy. He'd brought his dress uniform with him for the funeral, but today, he was just Steve Rogers the man, not Captain Rogers, the soldier. He slid an arm around Lucy's shoulders, turning her to face him and drawing her into his arms once the hearse pulled away, sensing the grief in her and feeling the need to comfort as much as he could.

Wrapped tightly in Steve's arms, Lucy did, finally, let herself cry a little, her hands grasping at his back as she shuddered. She'd tried so hard to keep it together - for him, for Liv, for Johnny, for the children - but every now and then, it bubbled up and she couldn't hold it back. Sniffling, she raised her head, smiling a little as she met his eyes. "God, she'd kill me for sniffling all over her triumphant return."

There were tears mirrored in his own eyes, though he'd kept it together for the most part after the initial shock of Peggy's death. In all honesty, he was feeling a little numb. Maybe it just hadn't hit him yet or maybe he was stronger than he thought. How many times had he gone over the what ifs in his head" If he was faced with the same decisions again, he knew he wouldn't have changed a thing. All of it had led to this very moment, and if it wasn't for those decisions, where would they be now" He'd likely be dead by now, and God only knew what would have become of Lucy. He smiled at her as she met his gaze and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. "No, she wouldn't. She'd understand. Did I ever tell you what happened after Bucky died?"

Smiling through her tears, she shook her head, twisting to wrap her arm about his back. All they had to do today was settle in; tomorrow they would have to visit the church and the funeral home, as well as make certain the programs for the funeral were ready for printing. But today ....they were allowed a little peace. "No, I don't think you did," she told him quietly, wiping her eyes dry with her sleeve.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket - he was just old-fashioned enough to still be carrying one - and dabbed at her tears, careful not to smear any mascara she might be wearing. "I had wandered off on my own. Found a bombed-out tavern that miraculously still had a few bottles of booze on the shelves. I wanted to get drunk. Did you know, I've never been drunk" Not even once. I don't know if she followed me or what, but Peggy found me. I blamed myself for Bucky's death, but she said it wasn't my fault. She said I was doing him a disservice by blaming myself. That was the first time she ever saw me cry, but she didn't blame me for it. She told me to allow him the dignity of his choice, and that was that. I don't think she'd blame you for grieving, Luce, but I think she'd want us to honor her memory and go on."

She nodded slowly, agreeing with him. He'd known Peggy best of all of them, after all. "She was always very wise, wasn't she?" she murmured. "No wonder she was one of the founding members of S.H.I.E.L.D. She must have seen how necessary it would be, decades before it had a chance to prove that." Leaning into Steve, Lucy couldn't help smiling as she added, "I feel very privileged to have known her."

He frowned a little at the mention of S.H.I.E.L.D., which had changed quite a bit since its inception all those years ago after the war. He and Peggy had discussed it sometimes late at night when neither of them could sleep. Peggy had agreed with him that S.H.I.E.L.D. was getting a little too big for its britches, and Steve had promised to keep his eyes peeled for corruption, but he didn't think S.H.I.E.L.D., as important as it might have been, was Peggy's crowning achievement. "She was pretty special," he agreed. "You know, there weren't many female field operatives in those days. She was one of a kind. And she didn't put up with any crap. I saw her deck a guy twice her size once without even breaking a sweat." Or breaking a fingernail either, for that matter. He smiled a little at the memory of that. "You would have liked her."

Lucy couldn't help laughing at that, finding it only too easy to imagine Peggy flattening anyone who talked back to her. She hugged Steve's back as they wandered in the direction of their hired car - she'd drawn the line at staying on a military base. First and foremost, Peggy had been family. "What did he do to deserve that?" she asked Steve curiously. "He can't have done what the moron did to get punched by me."

"Underestimated her. Assumed because she was a woman she was weak and only good for one thing. Forgot to call her ma'am," he shrugged, one arm still around her as they made their way to the car that would take them to their hotel. "We should have a drink in her honor. She'd appreciate that. You're a lot like her, you know. That's probably why I fell in love with you."

"I would have liked to have seen that," Lucy smiled. She'd seen the official photographs, of course, and the not so official photographs, but there was only so much a still image could tell her about the woman who had been so influential on her husband's life. "She never stood any stupidity. I think my arse still aches on cold days after she hit me with that stick of hers for being a whiny jealous child." That was a conversation she'd never relayed back to Steve, not until now, anyway, and it was the reason she didn't bristle as he mentioned falling in love with her. "Who would have thought you'd get driven off the road by Peggy Carter's great-niece?"

She was quiet for a moment, drawing herself back under control rather than risk a car accident. "No, I don't mind," she said softly. "I think that's a very good idea. You knew her best, of anyone who might come. Liv and I only really knew her this last couple of years." She swallowed hard, taking another deep breath as the car finally turned onto the approach to the hotel.

If he'd known how much trouble she was having with her own emotions, he'd have either offered to drive or asked her to pull over, but he didn't. He knew they were both a little lost in their own sea of grief, but Peggy was someone they had both loved. He looked back at Lucy at something she said. "Don't do that, Luce. Don't make light of it, like I'm the only one hurting here.You loved her just as much as I did, and you were her family. I just thought ..." he trailed off a moment. What had he been thinking" How well had he known Peggy really' There was over a sixty-year time lapse during which she'd thought he was dead. What she'd done during those years had very little to do with him. She'd gone on after he'd been lost. She'd made her own way. She'd been a founding member of S.H.I.E.L.D. She'd likely had lovers and friends he never knew of. As much as he'd known Peggy, there had been a part of her that had been a stranger to him, too. "I don't know what I thought."

Pulling into a parking space in front of the hotel, Lucy paused, undoing her belt to twist and face him. "I'm not making light of it," she promised him softly. "Steve, you knew her in her prime, and you knew her at the end. You knew her, the woman she was, the woman she stayed right until the end. She loved you all her life. There is no one better to pay tribute to that life than you."

"She loved you, too, Lucy. You and Liv. She was proud of you both. This isn't just about me. It's about all of us. It's about everyone who ever knew or loved her. I don't know what?s gonna happen. I don't know who's gonna show up. There's a sixty-year gap in our relationship. Nick Fury probably knows more about Peggy than I ever did or ever will." Steve's face actually blanched at the thought of that, but whatever it was Nick Fury knew about Peggy, he certainly couldn't claim he'd known her the way Steve and Lucy had. "I would like to do the eulogy, but it's up to you and Liv. I will abide by whatever you decide."

She sniffed softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek, not wanting to fight him over this. "I'll talk to Liv," she suggested gently, knowing her sister would want Steve to give the eulogy anyway. But he would feel better knowing the sisters had talked it over first. "But it doesn't need to have anecdotes, or little stories from her life in it to be a tribute to the woman she was, baby. Don't get bogged down in what you missed. Honor what you know."

He nodded, closing his fingers around her hand and bringing it to his lips. He was trying to be strong for her, whether it was a mistake or not, but at some point, he was going to have to acknowledge his own feelings. "We should go inside," he suggested. "Have a drink in her memory. Maybe a few drinks." It had been a long couple of days, and it was starting to take a toll on both of them. Human grief and sorrow was not something the super soldier serum had any effect on.

His wife held his gaze for a long moment, leaning over to kiss him tenderly. "What was her favorite drink?" she asked curiously, pushing open the door to climb out. She'd never seen Peggy drink alcohol, abiding by doctor's orders to keep herself from imbibing at all, but Lucy didn't doubt that she'd had a favorite tipple she liked to indulge in from time to time.

Steve chuckled at her question, or more accurately, at the answer to her question. It was one question he could answer, at least as far as Peggy's younger years were concerned. "Would you believe a Singapore Sling" She had a bit of a sweet tooth. We'd be at the bar ordering beers, and she'd stroll in in her uniform, go up to the bartender and order a Singapore Sling, then scowl at us, like she was daring us to say something about it. That was my Peggy," he said with a chuckle, wiping an errant tear from his eyes, hardly realizing the possessiveness of his statement.

Lucy laughed, careful not to dwell on how possessive that statement had been. It was ridiculous to be jealous of her great-aunt, something Peggy had taught her quite firmly, and even more ridiculous to be jealous of a dead woman. "Somehow I don't have any trouble imagining that," she chuckled, locking up the car before rounding it to take his arm. "No wonder the doctors told her to stop drinking - gin and cherry brandy, good grief."

He undid his seatbelt and climbed out of the car, too late to open the door for her, but in time to offer her his arm, like the gentleman he was. He would always be a little old-fashioned that way; it was just who he was. All those years in the deep freeze hadn't done a damned thing to change that. "No one drinks them anymore. I don't know what she liked later on," he said, frowning a little at the realization again that he didn't know much about the sixty-some odd years of her life while he'd been frozen.

"You'd be surprised," she smiled to him, hugging his arm as they headed for the hotel proper and its bar. "They just don't call them Singapore Slings anymore. Now it's just a gin sling, I think."

"Hmm, doesn't have the right ring to it. Why do they have to go and change everything" How's the saying go' If it ain't broke, don't fix it?" Steve was forever bemoaning modern advances, unsure if the world was a better place for all the changes that had taken place during the last seventy years or not. "Kinda takes all the fun out of ordering it, doesn't it?"

"So order a Singapore Sling, restart the fashion," Lucy told him warmly. "Make the bartender look it up on Google if he can't work out what it is. That sounds like fun." Her eyes, so recently wet with tears, sparkled as she grinned up at her husband, willing to embrace anything even remotely humorous today.

"In the old days, we looked stuff up in an encyclopedia," he told her with a wry grin. He intended on introducing his children to books and making sure they knew there were other important sources of information besides the internet. He smiled back at her, tucking her hand into the crook of her arm and led her into the hotel to check in. And to have a drink to honor Peggy before they started the long and difficult process of putting her to rest.

((Sad stuff, but necessary. Here's hoping they can survive the funeral - gods alone know who'll show up for it!))