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eienvine · 8 years

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Magnolia Lane

For @hero-monty for the Peggysous gift exchange! Enjoy!

Prompt: “I'd love to see something where they're playing a game, like a board game, a roadtrip game, a sports game, or any type of game.”

. . . . . .

Summary: Peggy has fought the Nazis and Hydra, grappled with Russian agents attempting to destroy New York, and prevented Los Angeles from being sucked into an interdimensional rift. But nothing she's done has prepared her for her next challenge: bridge night with the new neighbors.

Rating: G

Also on Ao3, with added footnotes!

. . . . . .

1949, Sycamore Hills, California

. . . . . .

"Is it too late to back out?"

Daniel raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Do you want to?"

Peggy hesitated. Her statement had been half in jest, and yet . . .

He saw her hesitation and grinned. "Has the great Peggy Carter finally met her match? The Peggy Carter, who defeated Hydra? Saved New York from Dr. Fenhoff? Stopped LA from being swallowed up by Zero Matter?"

"Those were entirely different situations and you know it," she said primly. "Those were important."

"This is important," he reminded her. "Besides, wasn't coming to this area your idea in the first place? And now that we're here, if we want to keep suspicion off us, and what we really do at work . . ."

"I know, I know," she sighed. "But this sort of situation is not really my forte."

"You can say that again."

She ignored him. "I'm very good undercover; I can make people believe any lie I need them to. I'm not quite as good at making people like me when I'm being myself."

Daniel laughed aloud at that. "Oh, you don't have to tell me that," he grinned. "I remember the disaster when you first met my sisters. But Peg, you can do this. We need to mingle with the locals, and I know that you always pull through when the stakes are high." He hesitated, then smiled again. "And if it's any consolation, you look gorgeous."

"I certainly hope so," she retorted, glancing in the mirror at her new navy blue dress, cut in the style of the new fashions coming from Paris—nipped-in waist, full skirt falling to mid-calf. "The waist on this dress! I can hardly breathe."

He rested his chin on her shoulder, so that in the mirror she could see his face next to hers, and her stubbornness melted away. The truth was that she'd do anything for him, though there was no sense reminding him of that just now; she didn't want him to get cocky. "I've never known Peggy Carter to back down from a challenge."

"Peggy Sousa, when she's at home," she reminded him in the moment before she turned to kiss him, still thrilling, four weeks after the wedding, at the sound of her married name (she didn't use it professionally, but somehow that only made her love it more; it was precious, something for her and Daniel to share in the privacy of their own home). He responded enthusiastically, and she was just thinking that this seemed a vastly preferable alternative to their current plans for the evening when he pulled away.

"I know this isn't how either of us would choose to spend an evening," he said, "but we might be in this house for years. You have to see it's a tactical advantage to get in good with the neighbors."

Oh, he knew just what to say to persuade her. "Tactical advantage" indeed; only her Daniel would think to put it in those terms, knowing that she couldn't resist that idea. "But a whole evening playing bridge with strangers!" she groaned. "Daniel, it sounds so dull."

"But just think," he said, fetching her handbag from its place by the door, "if we don't go, Rose will have spent all that time teaching us bridge for no reason, and you know what she'll be like if she finds out we didn't go." He kissed her again quickly, and then grinned. "Besides, I'm just wild to try Mrs. Johnson's famous tomato soup cake." He held out his arm. "You don't want the Johnsons to think we're bad neighbors, do you?"

Peggy sighed. Daniel was right, of course; he had a habit of being right when she didn't want him to be. "No, I suppose I don't." She fixed her lipstick, mussed from the kiss, then led Daniel to the kitchen to fetch the tray of deviled eggs. She carried the tray, having long since learned that if she wanted to hold Daniel's hand, she'd have to do all the carrying, as he'd need his free hand for his crutch. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make. "But I am warning you, husband mine, if this tomato soup cake doesn't live up to Mrs. Johnson's endless bragging, I am never attending one of her bridge nights again."

"We'll tell everyone you developed an allergy to cards," he agreed, and with one last check over their house, the Sousas were on their way down the street to an evening with the Johnsons.

The newly acquired Sousa home was located at 793 Magnolia Lane, one in a row of identical houses on what was one in a grid of identical streets, all making up the planned community of Sycamore Hills—one of the first of its kind in the nation, and old Mr. Sousa had proudly clipped an article all about this new housing trend of the future out of Time magazine and mailed it to his son and daughter-in-law. Peggy, though immensely fond of the old man, did not share his enthusiasm for tract housing; Daniel felt about the same. But they wanted something close to work that they could afford on SSR salaries, and they wanted a yard and neighbors for when children came, whenever that might be. Besides, Sycamore Hills matched their cover story of being a salesman and his secretary wife. It was just the sort of place where Daniel Sousa, paper distributor, might live.

As they walked hand in hand down the street past the identical houses, Daniel, as though reading Peggy's thoughts, asked, "Do you ever worry you're going to forget which house is ours and walk in on a neighbor?"

"I still sometimes can only find ours by checking the house number," Peggy confessed, then hesitated as she noticed Daniel smiling shyly. "What is it?"

He shrugged. "I just still get excited about being able say 'our house.' If you'd told me when I started at the SSR that someday I'd be buying a house with the amazing woman who sat at the desk next to mine . . ." He hesitated, and his good mood dimmed a little. "Or if you'd told me in the field hospital that I'd ever marry at all . . ." He shrugged again, visibly casting off his sudden pensiveness. "Let's just say, some mornings I gotta pinch myself to be sure I'm really here and not just dreaming this all."

"Daniel Antonio Sousa," replied his wife after a moment of examining his bashful grin, "I'd kiss you senseless if it wouldn't muss my lipstick."

"So you'd kiss me senseless if we weren't going to this party?" He sighed. "Then maybe coming is a bad idea after all."

"Too late," she said.

The Johnson home looked exactly like the Sousa home, save for the 687 on the mailbox. The lawn was absolutely pristine, though, and the flowers outside perfectly kept; the Sousas had no time or patience for yard work, and Peggy had every intention and asking around to find some enterprising neighbor boy who needed to earn money for his church group or college fund and hiring him to do the work. She hadn't gotten around to it yet, however, and the Sousa yard was the shame of Magnolia Lane. Indeed, Peggy was surprised that Mrs. Johnson, with her magazine-ready flower beds, had issued invites to such sloppy yardkeepers.

"This looks familiar," Daniel remarked dryly.

"Ours is better," Peggy said with confidence as she rang the doorbell.

"Oh?"

"Of course," she smiled. "Because I get to live there with you."

He grinned at her, and that's how Mrs. Johnson found them when she answered the door: Peggy beaming and Daniel giving her the besotted smile she'd become so accustomed to since a certain enthusiastic kiss in his office all those months ago. "Mr. and Mrs. Sousa!" their hostess exclaimed. "See now, I can just tell you're newlyweds. My Roy smiled just like that at me the first six months we were married."

Shirley Johnson—"Just call me Shirley, we're all friends here"—was a pleasant-looking woman some ten years older than Peggy, with strawberry blonde hair and a dress that, although quite nice, was not quite as fashion-forward as Peggy's. Peggy didn't care in the slightest, of course, but she saw Shirley look at it, momentarily displeased, before plastering her smile back on. Of course Peggy could take no credit for the dress; it was, like so much of her wardrobe, Ana's doing. Also Ana's doing were the deviled eggs, which Shirley placed on the table with the other refreshments and exclaimed over the adorable little flowers made of radish slices atop each carefully piped dollop of deviled egg yolk. Peggy had planned on bringing pickled vegetables on those absurd cellophane-topped toothpicks—she'd seen that at a party before, and it seemed easy and festive enough—but when her dear friend heard about her plans, she insisted on making the eggs.

"After all, Peggy dear," she'd said, "how this party goes could shape the rest of your time in that neighborhood. Your hostess will gossip with her friends, and they will gossip with their friends . . . You must make a good first impression if you expect to avoid being shunned in Sycamore Hills."

It appeared that the Sousas were the last to arrive; Shirley had invited two other couples, so as to always have two bridge games going at once, and she quickly made introductions. The first couple, helping themselves to the food on the table, looked to be about Peggy and Daniel's age: John Boyd was a cheerful-looking blonde man built like a tank, who worked as the local high school's shop teacher; his wife Carolyn was brunette and seemed a bit ill at ease, although she gave Peggy a kind smile. According to Shirley, they lived just across the street.

The other couple, currently seated on the sofas with drinks and chatting with a man who turned out to be Mr. Johnson, were introduced as the Harrises. They were in their forties or fifties and immaculately put together; even with her carefully applied makeup and new dress, Peggy felt a bit like a shabbily dressed schoolgirl beside Jean Harris's perfect blonde coif and casually stunning ensemble. Ana had sewn Peggy's dress to resemble Christian Dior's New Look line coming out of Paris, but Peggy had a suspicion that Mrs. Harris's skirt and jacket were genuine Christian Dior.

Her husband was a judge, they soon learned. Both Harrises were polite but reserved, and Peggy had the unmistakable feeling that she and Daniel were being weighed and measured. Daniel was found a bit wanting, if Mrs. Harris's unimpressed expression was anything to go off, but Peggy, as it turned out, had an unexpected advantage.

"You're English, aren't you?" the woman asked with her first genuine smile.

"Yes, Mrs. Harris. London-born."

"I do so admire the English," she said. "Such art and architecture, such literature and history. And of course the accent is so terribly sophisticated isn't it? My own ancestors came from England on the Mayflower."

"Remarkable," said Peggy, mustering all her undercover experience to make it sound convincing.

The Harrises, they soon learned, lived in the strip of mansions that had been there for decades before the tract housing sprang up next door; they and the Johnsons knew each other from church. It quickly became clear that Mrs. Harris was something of a local queen bee; she appeared to know everyone in Sycamore Hills, despite the development being less than a year old, and from the way both she and Shirley discussed the matter, it was apparent that to be invited to one of her garden soirees was the greatest honor a housewife could hope for. "You shall have to come to my next one," Mrs. Harris said graciously to Peggy. No such invitation was issued to Carolyn Boyd.

It seemed an odd assemblage of people, but Peggy was a spy, a detective, a code breaker, and a very sensible person; it did not take long to puzzle out the interpersonal connections happening in that living room. Shirley, who hung on Mrs. Harris's every word, was clearly trying to ingratiate herself to the local society matron; her husband Roy, a balding man with the beginnings of a pot gut and very little interesting conversation to contribute, was a lawyer, and the secondary purpose of the evening was clearly to give him a chance to socialize and "schmooze," as Daniel would say, with Judge Harris. She'd invited the Sousas ostensibly to welcome them to the neighborhood but in actuality because Mrs. Harris had expressed interest in meeting the only English resident of the town, and inviting Peggy was a sure way to get Jean to say yes. And the Boyds had been invited to fill seats at the card tables.

"Now," said Shirley, when the introductions had been made and Peggy and Daniel had made all the obligatory comments on the loveliness of the house, "Mr. and Mrs. Sousa, you must fill your plates."

"Please," said Peggy politely, "Peggy and Daniel."

Shirley smiled. "Peggy and Daniel, then. Mrs. Harris has provided the lovely sandwiches, and Carolyn the meatballs. And of course, after having heard so much about it, Daniel, you must be eager to try to my famous cake."

"I am very eager to try your cake," Daniel assured her, and if Peggy hadn't known him better than she knew herself, she would have thought him sincere.

They made their way to the table and began filling plates, and soon found themselves in the company of Carolyn Boyd, who had come to try the eggs. "Your deviled eggs are just lovely, Mrs. Sousa," she said politely, and again Peggy had the impression that the lady was very ill at ease. Perhaps she, like Peggy, was not much fond of this kind of evening.

So Peggy leaned in close. "I'll tell you a secret if you promise to keep it under wraps," she said. "I didn't make these. I have a friend who is far more talented than I in both the culinary and the decorative arts, and she volunteered to make them. I would not even know how to go about making a radish garnish."

Carolyn laughed aloud at that, a surprised, happy sound. "I will be as silent as the grave," she reassured her.

"Good. And by the way, you must call me Peggy. And my husband is Daniel." She gestured at the man in question, who was reluctantly serving himself a piece of the reddish-orange cake.

At the mention of his name, he glanced up at the ladies and grimaced. "Am I a bad guest if I don't try the tomato soup cake?"

"I haven't dared yet," admitted Carolyn.

"Hush," Peggy laughed quietly; fortunately, their companions had begun talking again, and the sound of it covered the conversation at the table. "We certainly ate worse in the army, darling. Besides, I bet we find out it's actually delicious. Housewives have always been good at making do, and rationing made them experts; you should taste my grandmother's carrot pudding."

Daniel looked surprised. "Granny Lewin?" When she nodded, his face fell. "Now I'm a little less excited about visiting her next year."

She elbowed him discretely. "Don't be so quick to write off carrot pudding. You might be pleasantly surprised."

She served herself a piece, and then offered one to Carolyn, who reluctantly accepted. As it turned out, they oughtn't have been so suspicious; as Daniel, who tried it first, said with some surprise, "That's far better than a cake made of tomato soup has any right to be." When they returned to their seats, Shirley saw the bite taken from Daniel's cake and, fairly bursting with pride, asked him what he thought of it. "It's really good, Shirley," he said honestly. Across the room, Carolyn Boyd watched with interest, then tried a corner of her own tiny slice. Her eyebrows flew up in surprise, and Peggy had to smother a smile.

Before long, Shirley and Roy were setting up the two tables. The Sousas were to play the Johnsons first, while the Harrises played the Boyds. Peggy assumed that Shirley had carefully planned it so that the Johnsons would play the Harrises last, leaving that interaction the brightest memory in Jean Harris's mind when she left for the evening.

Roy Johnson dealt the cards, and Peggy, trying desperately to keep all the rules Rose had taught her straight in her mind, picked up her hand and examined it. She was not much of a card player, never had been, and she'd considered letting Daniel do all the heavy lifting tonight . . . but only for a moment. The truth was that she was too competitive not to at least try.

Her hand, as it turned out, was excellent—lots of high cards, lots of spades. So after Roy made his bid of one diamond, she took a deep breath and topped with one spade. The bidding continued, but after a few rounds, Daniel dropped out, clearly trusting Peggy to take the lead.

In the end she became the declarer, and Daniel obediently displayed his hand on the table. Not bad, not bad; between the two of them, they had a fighting chance to win. She smiled at her husband, smiled down at her sizable collection of kings and queens, and prepared to dominate.

Which made it all the more disappointing when Roy and Shirley won instead. Peggy looked down at the tricks piled neatly on the table, carefully keeping the scowl off her face to keep the Johnsons from thinking she was a poor loser. She hated to lose, had always hated to lose, even when she was just a little girl and would play hide and seek with Michael in the yard. She was very nearly ready to write bridge off, what a ridiculous game, what a waste of time, when she glanced up and saw Daniel barely concealing a smile.

"You're amused by that?" she asked.

He shrugged, his smile fully blooming. "It's just . . . you're so good at everything, so it's always just cracked me up that you're so bad at playing cards."

She looked at him a long moment, and then she laughed. "I suppose if I were good at absolutely everything, it wouldn't be fair to everyone else."

Daniel laughed too, and the Johnsons smiled as well, and Roy began gathering the cards for the next deal. Peggy watched her husband with a fond smile on her lips. After the day she had decided to break things off with Fred and join the SOE, her life had become deadly serious, and so it had stayed long after the war ended. It had taken months of effort from good friends—Angie and Howard and Rose and the Jarvises—to remind her that it was alright to smile again. But it was Daniel Sousa who'd made her believe that it was okay to be vulnerable, to be less than perfect, to open herself up to the glorious messiness that was real life outside the SSR's walls. Really, she sometimes felt her reasons for marrying him had been rather selfish: he'd made her austere life so much more colorful and fulfilling, and she couldn't imagine being without him. He'd laughed, the time she'd told him as much. "You do the same for me," he'd said. "And besides, we both nearly jumped into an interdimensional rift to save each other; I think your love for me is more unselfish than you realize."

The game was much more pleasant after that, for Peggy kept reminding herself that it was alright to lose; this evening was just for fun, with no real consequences riding on the outcome of the cards. They asked Roy and Shirley about their children—John and Betty, as it turned out—and were asked in turn about how they'd met. They gave their usual carefully constructed answer, composed of the truth stripped of all important information: they'd both worked for the phone company in New York City, but when he took a new job in Los Angeles they both found themselves missing each other, so when the phone company wanted to transfer her to California as well she jumped at the opportunity.

"And you work for your husband now, don't you?" Shirley asked. Her slightly stiff demeanor clearly indicated her opinion on women working outside the home, but she was clearly trying to be supportive.

"Peg is the best at what she does," said Daniel proudly. "The office couldn't get by without her."

Peggy smiled her gratitude at him. Daniel worried often that her decision to stay in Los Angeles to be with him had kept her from opportunities for advancement she might have had on the East Coast, and went out of his way to make sure she knew her work was appreciated. No amount of her reassurance assuaged him. But he really needn't have worried; she knew full well that the chances of a woman being promoted to chief were slim, given that they barely tolerated her being an agent. And she thought her position in Los Angeles was perfect: she was co-chief in all but name, but she got to do mostly fieldwork while Daniel was stuck in budget meetings and conference calls. Besides, it was such a hassle to fly from DC to Los Angeles that the head honchos very rarely interfered in their office.

When the first round of bridge was over, the couples left their tables to mingle and top off on refreshments, and the Sousas found themselves in conversation with the Boyds by default, for the Johnsons were both fawning over the Harrises. John Boyd turned out to be a very good-natured man, although not the brightest. After they had made a bit of small talk, Carolyn asked, "I couldn't help but notice that you mentioned being in the army. That was both of you?"

Daniel nodded. "Both stationed in Europe."

"We actually nearly crossed paths once," Peggy added, "although we didn't know it at the time. After Bastogne."

Carolyn's eyes widened, and she hesitated. "I heard from Judy Snelson that your maiden name is Carter. Are you . . ."

Peggy grimaced a little. She liked Carolyn, though, and didn't want to lie to her. And it would come out eventually anyway. "Yes, but if you say you're a fan of Betty Carver, I have to tell you that show got a great deal wrong."

"No worry there," laughed John. "Carolyn hates Betty Carver."

Peggy looked at Carolyn, her eyebrows raised in a surprised inquiry.

Carolyn colored a little. "I was a nurse in the Pacific," she explained. "And we did a lot more than cower in our camps and wait to be rescued. So I never much liked how they portrayed nurses in that show."

"Carolyn Boyd," Peggy pronounced, "you have just risen immeasurably in my esteem," and the woman in question broke into a smile.

"Peg here didn't do much cowering in camps either," Daniel said, snaking an arm around her waist, "so she's also not a big fan of Betty Carver."

"So you knew Captain America?" John asked.

"Yes, but for goodness sake, keep it a secret, or Shirley and Jean will never stop asking me about it."

John mimed zipping his lips shut, and Carolyn gave him an exasperated but fond smile.

The next game started then, and Peggy and Daniel sat down with the Harrises. This game was easier, because Peggy was becoming more accustomed to bridge, and also because Jean Harris was so willing and ready to be delighted and impressed by the Englishwoman that she kept the conversation very light, very friendly, and very comfortable.

"And was it this young man who brought you to America?" Mrs. Harris asked as her husband dealt.

"No, Daniel and I did not meet until I had been here for some time," said Peggy. "After the war I wanted to see more of the world, and I was offered a good position in New York City. But it was indeed Daniel who gave me the reason to stay." Across the table, Daniel smiled and bumped her foot with his.

The conversation continued in much this way; Mrs. Harris was an excellent conversationalist, and could be very gracious when she wanted to be; no doubt these traits were useful in her roles as both judge's wife and leader of the local ladies' social scene. Still, Peggy did not see herself being very eager to spend much time with the woman in the future, and she wondered how she might get out of the garden party invite.

After that game was finished, Peggy found herself again in the company of Carolyn Boyd. The Johnsons had recently purchased a new Chevrolet, and Roy offered to show it to Al Harris. Their wives both elected to come with them out to the carport, and at the last minute Daniel and John both got roped into going, Shirley having assumed that as men, they must be interested in cars. Daniel gave his wife a very long-suffering look as he was led out of the front door, and Peggy blew him a kiss.

"You two seem very happy together," Carolyn observed.

"Yes, I believe we are," smiled Peggy. "But then, you and John seem very happy together as well."

"John is wonderful," Carolyn agreed, but Peggy could sense something in her tone that said that she wasn't telling the whole story.

So she asked gently, "How did you two meet?"

"Actually, we met in the war as well," Carolyn answered. "John was a Marine in the Pacific, and was badly injured saving some of his fellow Marines in battle, in late '44. He ended up under my care for months; they couldn't move him right away. He was . . ." She trailed off, a smile playing over her lips. "Sweet and funny and charming. We became good friends in all that time, and when he finally got shipped back to the States to recuperate, we stayed in touch. I'd moved home to Ohio and become a nurse, but I was saving up money to go to college; I didn't want to be a nurse forever. And then I had to fly out here for a friend's wedding, and John had just finished recuperating and gone home to his folks in Los Angeles, so we decided to get together for dinner while I was still out here. I walked into that restaurant and I saw him standing there with a bouquet of roses and . . . all my plans for my future changed."

Into Peggy's mind came a flash of memory, of walking into the LA office and seeing Daniel standing there and feeling, as Carolyn had said, that "all her plans for her future had changed," and she smiled. "That's a very romantic story," she said. "And have you enjoyed living in California?"

To her surprise, Carolyn's smile fell, just a little—became a bit more forced.

"Or perhaps you haven't," Peggy said.

"No, I do like California," Carolyn insisted, embarrassed. "It's a beautiful state, and John's family have been so good to me. I'm just a little . . ."

Peggy hesitated, then placed one hand on her new friend's shoulder. "Carolyn," she said seriously, "you don't have to tell me anything. But if you would like to, now or in the future, I am always willing to be a listening ear."

Carolyn sighed. "I just feel so ungrateful for feeling this way, but I'm a little . . . bored." She hesitated. "I feel like I can tell you this, because you know what it's like to be married to someone who was injured in the war. John's injury, and the surgeries after to repair the damage . . . he can't have children. And I don't mind," she was quick to add. "Being married to him is worth it, no matter what hardships it comes with. But that means I do nothing but keep house for one man; there's no family to care for, and there's only so many times I can vacuum the living room. And the neighbors . . . well, in six months of living here, you're the first person I've met that I feel like I can really talk to. And after all I did and saw overseas, to know see only my four walls these days . . . I'm happy I married John, I really am. But sometimes I wonder if I could have done more with my life."

"Getting married doesn't mean your life is over," Peggy pointed out. "Have you considered getting a job?"

Carolyn shrugged. "I've considered it; John's all right with the idea, although his parents would be a little shocked. But my only skill is nursing, and I'm glad I did it in the war but it's not something I want to do long-term. I suppose I could go to secretary school and learn to type." She sounded unenthusiastic about the prospect, but after a moment her expression brightened. "You're a secretary, right? Where did you go to school?"

Before Peggy could think up a lie, the front door opened and the rest of the guests poured in. "You missed out, Peg," said Daniel, crossing to her. "It's quite a car." His voice sounded sincere, but when he was close and no one but her could see his face, he let his real feelings show in his expression, and Peggy stifled a laugh.

"Final game!" Shirley called, and the guests made their way to their chairs. Peggy and Daniel were to play John and Carolyn, which Peggy was glad of; those two were by far her favorite attendees. If nothing else came of this night, at least she'd made a new friend.

But that was not all the night had in store for them, as it turned out. As the game wound on, Peggy found her attention drawn to the large picture window on the side of the house. Through it she could see, outlined in the street light, the black form of the house next door. No lights were on; no car was in the driveway. And yet she was certain she had seen, outlined in the moonlight, figures walking through the backyard toward the porch door, all dressed in black, and looking around in a nervous and highly suspicious manner.

"Carolyn," Peggy said casually as John dealt, "who lives just there?"

"Next door?" Carolyn clarified. "The Taylors."

"You know them?"

"Yes, a little. They're out of town right now, I think; visiting her sick mother in Seattle."

"Hmm."

Daniel knew that "hmm"; he looked at his wife across the table, his eyebrows raised.

"Can we take a quick break?" Peggy asked the others brightly. "I could use a drink."

Daniel followed her to the refreshment table. "What is it?"

"Something is happening next door," she said quietly. "I'd say burglary, but . . ."

"But who breaks into a house at 9:00 in the evening?" Daniel finished for her. "This street will be like a graveyard if they just waited a few hours."

"So, incompetent burglars," Peggy concluded. "Or something else entirely."

Daniel nodded. "You want to tell the others or just call the—" He broke off, examining her. "You want to go over there and stop it, don't you?"

"We are part of a law enforcement agency," she said reasonably, and kissed his cheek. "And we don't know if this is a crime at all; perhaps the Taylors returned home early and lost their key. I'll go scope it out, and signal you if you need to call the police."

"You aren't armed."

"Darling, it's me. Of course I'm armed."

Daniel hesitated, then gave her a fond smile. "All right, just don't ruin your dress. Ana would be very hurt."

Peggy returned quickly to the table where the Boyds waited. "I'm going to step out for a moment," she said. "I need some air."

Without waiting for a response she stepped outside and, taking a moment to get oriented, secreted herself in the row of bushes that separated the Johnsons' yard from the Taylors'. All was silence; she glanced back at the Johnsons' house, where Daniel stood in the window, and signaled for him to wait. This required further scrutiny.

Before she could move closer, however, she was joined in her hiding place in the bushes by a most unexpected companion: Carolyn Boyd.

"Ah, Carolyn," Peggy whispered, racking her brain for an excuse for her unusual behavior. "I dropped an earring—"

"Something is happening in that house, isn't it?" Carolyn interrupted, squatting down even farther and peering through the bushes at the Taylor home, dark and silent.

Best to play innocent. "What makes you say that?"

"Come on, Peggy," Carolyn whispered, sounding very reasonable. "You're looking out the window and suddenly you get all cagey and start asking questions about the Taylors, and then you and your husband get all chatty and secretive in the corner, and then you go outside and he stands watch by the window. And now here you are, spying on the house. You should be thanking me, by the way; Shirley wanted to come out and see if you were all right and I told her I'd go instead, because I promised to show you my tulips."

That was quick thinking, Peggy was forced to admit. "Thank you," she said reluctantly, then decided to tell some version of the truth. "I thought I saw movement at the Taylors' house, but I wanted to make sure I didn't imagine it before I called the police and woke up the whole neighborhood."

"That's a little dangerous, isn't it?" Carolyn asked doubtfully.

"Darling, I fought Nazis. Spying on a few cat burglars doesn't worry me."

In the silence that followed, both women heard a voice come from the backyard: "I can't get it open!"

Peggy was torn with indecision; the burglars might choose to come this direction and she could get a good view of them, or they might exit the yard a different way . . . she had to pursue them. She had a chance to stop a robbery, and she did not want to let the Taylors down, whoever they were. It was downright unneighborly to allow your neighbors to be burgled if you could stop it.

Also, she was quite bored of playing bridge.

"Stay here," she hissed at Carolyn, then slunk out of her hiding place in the bushes and moved toward the backyard, grateful that her dark blue dress would help her blend into the night. Peering around the corner of the house, she saw two figures in black standing on the back porch, trying to figure out how to unlock the back door. They were average-sized men, their heads covered by stocking masks, and based on how they were bickering, she thought her guess of "incompetent burglars" sounded just about right.

She was in the process of reaching down to remove the gun from her thigh holster when her cover was blown, through no fault of her own; a car backfired somewhere down the street, and both figures looked up toward the sound—putting Peggy right in their eye line.

"Run!" yelled one of the figures, and the two scrambled off the porch, heading for the back fence.

"Stop!" she yelled, not expecting it to work. It didn't, so Peggy pelted after them, cursing the way her heels sunk into the soft grass of the backyard, and managed to tackle the larger of the two figures. The other burglar seemed to panic and, giving up his goal of the back fence, instead ran back the way that Peggy had come; she hoped Carolyn had the good sense to stay hidden.

As she pulled her burglar's arms behind his back, she heard a thud and a grunt of pain from around the side of the house. Her mind awhirl with the possibilities, she forced her catch to his feet and led him in the direction of the noise, only to find a most unexpected sight: the second burglar on the ground, Carolyn kneeling on his back to keep him in place.

Peggy stared. "Did you—"

"I used to go to all my brother's wrestling matches," Carolyn said modestly, although her expression made it clear she was pretty pleased with herself. "You pick up a few things."

"Oh man," said the burglar Peggy was leading, "Mom is going to kill us."

Peggy and Carolyn looked at each other, surprised, and each pulled their catch's mask off. And what they saw made Carolyn get up off the burglar's back. "Ted and George Allen? What on earth are you boys doing breaking into the Taylors' house?"

The two boys—for so Peggy could now see they were, sheepish-looking boys not older than 18—backed up from their apprehenders, shifting uncomfortably. "You're not going to tell on us, are you, Mrs. Boyd?" said the one Peggy had tackled.

"I most certainly am," said Carolyn, indignant. "Breaking into a house is a crime, boys. But you tell me what's going on, and maybe I don't call the police, and maybe Coach Chapman doesn't take you two off the football team."

"But it doesn't count as a crime if we didn't actually get in the house, right?" said one of the boys hopefully.

Just then a light on the side of the Johnson house flipped on, and Daniel and John came outside; clearly Daniel had seen the whole thing through the window and was coming out to assist, and John had followed. "What's going on, Peg?" her husband asked.

"Just about to find out," said Peggy, nodding at the boys. "Spit it out."

The boys looked guiltily at each other, shifted from foot to foot, and finally the larger of the two boys blurted out, "I had to get my English essay back."

"You've got to give us more than that, George," said Carolyn.

"Mrs. Taylor is our English teacher, all right?" he said. "I know she takes her papers home to grade, so I wanted to get mine back before she looked at it and saw . . ." He sighed and looked down. "That I copied my paper from Susan Jones. I didn't think Mrs. Taylor would notice, but then Ted reminded me that last year she got Eddie Boone suspended for cheating." He looked up at them pleadingly. "If I get suspended, Coach'll kick me off the team, and then I'll never get to play college ball."

"Yeah, cry me a river," said Daniel, and Peggy fought back a smile. "All right, where do you two live?"

In the end, all four of the adults ended up walking the Allen boys down the block to their home, where Mr. and Mrs. Allen had no idea their sons had even left the house and promptly grounded them both until Christmas when they learned what had happened.

"Are you sure we were right to not call the police?" Carolyn asked as the Sousas and Boyds walked together back to the Johnsons'.

"I think so," said Peggy. "No sense getting them both a juvenile record when all they really did was skulk around the backyard and get stopped by a simple door lock."

"Besides," added Daniel, "I think we really put the fear of God into those two tonight. Between that and their parents watching them like hawks now, plus John here keeping an eye on them at school, I don't think they'll try anything else any time soon."

"Not to mention," added John, "George is going to be in a heap of trouble when Annie Taylor gets around to grading those essays."

It took a fair bit of lying to answer all of Shirley's questions about why half of her party had disappeared for twenty minutes, but in time they had convinced her and the Harrises that the Sousas were just fascinated by Carolyn Boyd's tulips, enough to spend twenty minutes looking at them in the dark.

Soon the party ended and everyone was gathering their things to go. Jean Harris cornered Peggy by the refreshment tables and reminded her that she would very much like to see her at her next garden party. Peggy hesitated, then smiled. "I would be happy to come, but I do get so shy at parties when I don't know anyone. May I bring along Mrs. Boyd?"

Mrs. Harris glanced back at the woman in question, then sighed a little. "Certainly you may. I will be sure to send her an invitation as well."

The Sousas bid goodbye to their hosts then; Peggy was certain their extended absence would have soured Shirley Johnson on them, but she was in for a surprise. "It was nice to have you," said their hostess. "We're having a barbecue for the neighbors next month, will you come?"

Daniel and Peggy glanced at each other, then smiled. "If you like," said Daniel. "Thank you so much for including us."

"Looks like we're more popular with the neighbors than we thought," Peggy murmured to her husband as they headed for the door.

"We will be the toast of Magnolia Lane," he grinned in return.

Outside the house, they found themselves in the company of the Boyds, and Peggy and Daniel slowly meandered across the street with their new acquaintances. Daniel and John had fallen into a discussion about places they'd served in the war, and Peggy was glad of the chance to talk privately to Carolyn; she had something very particular to say to her.

"Quite the night!" Carolyn exclaimed, before Peggy could begin the speech she'd been planning the last few minutes. "That was far more excitement than I've ever had at one of Mrs. Johnson's parties."

"Indeed," Peggy laughed, "if I had known bridge nights could get so physical, I would have worn more comfortable shoes."

Carolyn laughed in return, then paused, then asked a bit shyly, "Do you think . . . you two might ever want to come over for dinner or cards or something? You're the first person in the neighborhood I've really hit it off with, and I think John's talked more to your Daniel than anyone else in the whole six months we've lived here."

Peggy smiled, quite pleased. "I feel the same way," said she. "And we'd be delighted to come over. It would be . . . nice to have friends in the neighborhood."

Carolyn smiled too, and Peggy thought this a good moment to broach the other topic she wanted to discuss. "You did an excellent job taking that young man down," she observed. Nearby, Daniel and John were comparing shrapnel scars.

Carolyn responded with a bark of self-deprecating laughter. "Tackling a sixteen-year-old boy, you mean? Definitely one of my prouder moments."

"All the same," said Peggy, "to bring subdue him without hurting him, with no training? Your instincts are good." She hesitated. "Out of curiosity, are you any good with a gun?"

Carolyn blinked in surprise. "I've . . . been hunting a few times with my dad. I think I was pretty good at it."

Peggy nodded. She would have gone ahead even if Carolyn had never used a gun, but this did make things easier. "Well, Carolyn, if you really feel that nursing is not for you, I have a job opportunity that might interest you." She rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a business card, presenting it to her companion with a flourish.

"Auerbach Theatrical Agency," read Carolyn aloud. "Margaret Auerbach, Assistant to the CEO." She looked up at Peggy. "My first response is to say that I thought you worked in paper, but my second response is to say that I don't think you work in paper or in theater."

"And deductions like that are precisely why I think you'd be a good fit for us," said Peggy. "That and the fact that you have a military background and aren't afraid of a tussle." She shot a smile over at Daniel, who must have felt her gaze because he looked up and returned the smile. "I've been saying for months we need to hire more women; you seem like a good place to start."

"You haven't explained anything," Carolyn pointed out.

"And I can't, not here. Neither can you; when you talk about this to John tonight, please be as vague as possible, at least until we've had a chance to talk more. I think you're clever enough to know how to keep a cover. And if you think you're interested, be at the address on the card tomorrow morning at 10. Tell the woman at the front desk your name and that Peggy Carter sent you."

"Sent me for what?" Carolyn's words and tone were confused and guarded, but her expression showed the truth: she was intrigued.

"I'll explain tomorrow, if you come," Peggy promised. She closed up her handbag and prepared to leave. "Even if you choose not to, you and I will still be friends," she promised. "I can't lose my only friend in the neighborhood so soon after we've met. But I hope you will come. You wonder if you should have done more with your life; well, this, Carolyn, is 'more,' dropping right into your lap."

Carolyn looked at her, down at the card, and up at Peggy again. And then a slow smile spread across her face. "I'll be there," she promised.

"Good," Peggy smiled. "I'll be expecting you."

And, bidding the Boyds goodbye, Peggy and Daniel walked hand in hand down the darkened sidewalks of Magnolia Lane.

"Peggy," said Daniel when they were out of earshot of the Boyds, "did you just offer Carolyn a job with the SSR?"

"I've been telling you we need to hire more women," she replied. "I think Carolyn will do nicely."

Daniel laughed and shook his head. "Well, I think you may be right, based on what I've seen of her, and either way I've learned to trust your instincts."

Peggy ducked her head and smiled, grateful that the dark night covered the blush on her cheeks. One of the things she loved best about Daniel was one of the things that Fred had never been able to give her: her husband trusted her to think for herself and respected her opinions. "Daniel Antonio Sousa," she said, squeezing his hand gently, "have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"Not for a few hours," he shrugged, clearly fighting back a grin. "I could stand to hear it again."

"Then, husband of mine, I love you to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach."

"You stole that from a poem."

"It's called 'quoting,' dearest," she retorted. "It makes me sound more intellectual. You should try it sometime."

Daniel laughed and, stopping suddenly, used the hand that currently held hers to pull her in close. "You know, it doesn't matter now if I mess up your lipstick."

"This would be much more romantic if I weren't holding a half-eaten tray of deviled eggs."

He kissed her anyway, right there where all the neighbors could see, and Peggy couldn't even be bothered to care if they were shocking anyone. Besides, if anyone was spying on passersby out their windows at this time of night, they probably deserved all the shocking they got.

"The Johnsons have invited us to a barbecue," Peggy said when they were once again walking toward home. "And Carolyn would like us to come over for dinner sometime."

"We're so popular these days," Daniel laughed. "You sure you want to socialize with a co-worker? If she does take the job?"

She smiled and shrugged. "I've made it work with you, haven't I? This hasn't interfered our working relationship." She squeezed his hand.

"All right," said Daniel as they reached number 793, "dinner with the Boyds it is."

They stood a moment, looking at the house, and Peggy tilted her head thoughtfully. "You know, our yard really does look pathetic."

"Let's get one of the Allen boys to take care of it," Daniel suggested with an impish grin. "I think they're going to have a lot of free time on their hands between now and Christmas."

Peggy laughed and released his hand in favor of slipping her arm around his waist. And as they stood there looking at their house—their house, something she wouldn't have thought possible at one point—and as Peggy imagined yard care and neighborhood barbecues and dinner with the Boyds and their whole future laying out before them, she found herself smiling, and leaned over to kiss Daniel's cheek. "You know," she said, "I rather think I'm going to like life on Magnolia Lane."

. . . . . .

#peggysous #peggysousexchange #hero monty #ohpeggysous #lots of fluff #everything is very midcentury #i don't actually know how to play bridge

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katiekeysburg · 8 years

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I’ll be watching you

#twoyearsofagentcarter #agent carter #peggysous #daniel sousa #ohpeggysous #mine #i'm going to make some weird shit

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batnsons · 8 years

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@ultron-y requested: “Peggysous + 5 or 25”

@elliedilly requested: “Peggysous + 5”

Sorry for the wait, and I hope you don’t mind that I combined two requests! I really liked writing this one! 5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Daniel and Peggy walked into the building and headed towards the secretary desk. Peggy smirked as Daniel groaned beside her.

“Really, Daniel, did you expect a male secretary?” she teased gently, eliciting another groan from the agent.

“No, but a man can hope,” he mumbled under his breath. Peggy chuckled.

“Exactly as we practiced, Daniel. You’ll do great,” she told him reassuringly, but Daniel still grimaced as they approached. But within seconds, his persona changed. He stood up straighter, walked with a profound confidence, and Peggy could’ve even sworn she saw a twinkle in his eye. They reached the desk and the woman smiled at them politely.

“How can I help you?” she asked sweetly, and Peggy groaned inwardly at the soft, sickly-sweet tone. The woman was already taken by the dashing man in front of her. Daniel leaned against the desk and smiled through his lashes.

“Yes, I was hoping a pretty girl like you might be able I help me out?” The woman giggled and blushed, and Peggy nearly snorted in disgust. Women. Daniel said something else to make the girl laugh, and Peggy crossed her arms and tuned them out. She hated women that acted so…simpering. At least, she told herself that was the reason she was disgusted.

A few minutes later, Daniel tapped her on the arm, effectively startling her from her thoughts. She turned to see Daniel smiling at her, the woman at the desk nowhere in sight.

“She’s gone to get us the file we want. Your training worked,” he chuckled happily, causing Peggy to knit her brows together.

“Oh it worked alright,” she muttered. Daniel frowned as he saw her stormy look.

“You alright? It went exactly as we practiced, what’s got you so upset?” Peggy huffed and uncrossed her arms, refusing to look him directly in the eye.

“I just… I couldn’t stand her simpering giggle,” she ground out, and Daniel burst out laughing. Suddenly he stopped, eyes wide.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” Peggy whipped her head up to stare at him.

“Of course not!” Unfortunately, her indignant cry fell on deaf ears. A wide grin slowly spread across Daniel’s face, and a look of pure joy entered his eyes.

“You are! You’re jealous! My gosh, Peggy Carter is jealous!”

“I am not! I was just…” Daniel raised an eyebrow at her, and Peggy’s voice trailed off slowly. Try as she might to deny it, she knew the second he said it that she was, in fact, jealous. “Alright fine, I was a little bit jealous,” she mumbled, eyes on the floor.

“A little?” Peggy groaned.

“A lot! I was jealous a lot, are you happy now?” Her outburst was met by another laugh, and she was quickly enveloped in Daniel’s familiar embrace.

“Very. The fact that my girlfriend is possessive of me is very satisfyingly.” He pulled away and held her at arm’s length. “However, I was just doing my job, you don’t have to get so upset,” he said softly, a smile on his lips. Peggy chuckled.

“I know, I’m sorry. You did a fabulous job, by the way.” Daniel grinned.

“Why thank you!”

The secretary returned with the file they needed, and with a promise to return it when they were finished, the two quickly left the building. They walked in silence to the car, Daniel only breaking the silence once they were both seated inside.

“You know, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you jealous?” Peggy turned to him with a small smile as he continued. “It’s a good look on you.” Peggy chuckled.

“Thanks, I think,” she answered, smiling down at her hands.

“So’s that,” Daniel chimed again, and Peggy looked up in confusion.

“So’s what?”

“A blush.”

“I was not blushing!”

“Oh you most definitely were!”

“Was not!”

As they drove away, bickering back and forth, Peggy couldn’t help but think that this was the best feeling in the world.

Send me a ship and a number!

#my fic #peggysous prompts #peggysous #ohpeggysous #peggysous trashcan

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toxic-swan · 8 years

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‘cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style (insp.)

requested by katiekeysburg

#agentcarteredit #peggysousedit #ohpeggysous #agent carter #peggysous #peggy carter #daniel sousa #otp: you sweet on her?#mine #my stuff #katiekeysburg #thanks for the request!

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kerryloudermillk · 8 years

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Another Hundred Deciscions

For @agentmc, enjoy!

Prompt: After solving the Zero Matter case, Peggy and Daniel finally have their talk and make plans for the future.

Read on AO3

Peggy had almost gone home. She’d almost packed her luggage, said her goodbyes, gotten on the plane, and left Los Angeles. Step two had tripped her up. With bags ready and the Jarvis family already sent on their way, Peggy only had one last goodbye to give. She hadn’t expected it to be the turning point, but it had been. Of course, she hadn’t been looking forward to leaving California’s cozy weather for New York’s unforgiving chill. But the warmth of a set of arms was not the place she’d expected-or ever hoped-to find herself in that evening.

She should have seen the signs. Her life was always dropping little hints. “Perhaps you only need one compelling reason to stay” Jarvis had said to her just before heading off. After Steve, well, she hadn’t expected to be kissing much. Or any kissing at all, for that matter. Daniel had just looked so smug sitting there. Her actions had not been “ill advised and reckless,” she had bloody well saved his life! “You’re talking pretty big game when it’s your life that’s on the line, Carter”. He was asking to be slapped. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have hesitated. Well, perhaps she wouldn’t have slapped Jarvis, but nearly anyone else! And to be called a hypocrite, it was the last straw. She had surprised Daniel, and frankly shocked herself when she pulled his face with both of her hands and kissed him. She had kissed him with all those emotions she’d been tamping for years. Maybe someone else’s opinion really did matter. Peggy wasn’t quite sure why she’d taken him into a lip lock. Certainly not to shut him up, but maybe to prove herself, in a way. Daniel was constantly playing out her emotions; silently begging her to open up, forget work and propriety. She’d never given in until today. And damn if it didn’t feel incredible. And now? Now she was nestled in the arms of the man who, just yesterday, was “Chief” and “Mr. Sousa”. It felt markedly off to mentally refer to him as “Daniel”. Familiarity wasn’t an emotion that she was well acquainted with. It felt like the scattered puzzle pieces of her life and emotions had organized themselves into a picture showing the perfect path. … It couldn’t be any more cliché. Well, maybe if he’d lit a fire, but the warm Los Angeles air made a fire impractical. That was one thing the woman lying in his arms was dead set against: impracticality. They’d been sitting on his couch for hours. At first laughing and talking. Talking, talking, talking, but eventually Peggy had grown quiet, her head on his lap, propped in his arms. She might be sleeping. He didn’t care. Their fingers were intertwined. It hadn’t taken long for her normally stiff physicality to relax and become close. He’d worried about that, in the back of his mind. On the nights that he’s allowed himself, for a few dark minutes, to dream about Peggy, and imagine their lives together. Violet had been sweet, light hearted and, well, hands on. Peggy had seemed physically distant. Stiff, withheld, withdrawn. But he’d hoped, dreamed, understood, that beneath the hard, shiny exterior lay someone he had affection for. “Peggy?” he questioned softly, “Peg?” gently turning her head to see if she was awake. She silently opened her eyes, looking directly into his. Rolling quickly into a sitting position, she pulled her knees to her chest, stocking feet nestled with his, heels discarded hours ago. (He still had no idea how she walked around, much less kicked butt in those things.) Hair a bit messy, she looked relaxed, calmer. After a moment of quiet thought, she sighed. “I’ve missed my flight,” she admitted. “I know”, he chuckled. “It’s expensive to get another.” “Howard would probably buy you one, if you’re sure you want to leave, that is,” he added softly. Peggy seemed hesitant, worried to continue down that line of thinking. “It’s so nice here in California. The weather is simply gorgeous, and the people are friendlier too! And you’ll always need help down here, I’m sure I could be useful! And I’ve been thinking that I want to spend more time with Rose, she’s such a lovely girl, and I know that…” He nodded along to her tirade, making encouraging faces and little noises of agreement. He wanted nothing more than for her to stay, and it felt amazing to admit to himself. He knew she was trying to convince herself, but that nothing he could say would really make a difference. She was always going to make her own choices, and it was best to trust in her judgment on these matters. But after a minute, he interrupted her ramblings. “Peggy, you can let yourself stay.” This caught her off-guard. There had been so much push-pull, so many confusing emotions crowding her mind recently that this beam of clarity, from the source of nearly all of her emotional troubles, no less, was jarring and unexpected. He took a deep breath, “If I’ve learned anything from you, it’s that life is where you make it. Your life was in England, and then you moved to America. You left family, friends, and ‘home’ to come here. And then you joined the Army. I bet that was a change. You moved around a lot then too. And then the war ended, and Steve died, and you worked with the SSR some more. All these changes, and you’re still you. Doesn’t that maybe make you think that you can live your life anywhere? That maybe you can live it with me?” He held in a breath and watched her face for rejection. He watched, noting the moment her veneer cracked, and the emotion came spilling out in a gulp of air. “Oh Daniel…” she sighed, falling back into his lap, head once again nestled in his knees. “But we can’t let ourselves get carried away” she announced, steeling herself, “we have to make arrangements, I’ll need all my things, and I need to get permission from the New York office, and-” “And nothing! We can worry about that tomorrow, when-” “AND YOU need to stop cutting me off!” she insisted. He put his head down, laughing self-consciously. “You’re right, Peg, as always. But, and I’m just saying here, we DID sort of save the world today. Don’t we deserve a night off?” “Daniel, don’t you remember? We did that last year.” But she kissed him anyways. … It wasn’t as difficult as she expected, with his leg and all. Not that it would have been a deal-breaker, but the convenience was nice. For the first time in a long time, every action felt easy and natural. In the morning, however, they were faced with the difficulties they’d left behind the evening before. Well, that Daniel had left behind the night before. And she’d managed to forget all the difficulties once the evening had reached a certain point. But, as cliché as it was, in the harsh light of morning (Daniel still didn’t own any curtains) Peggy was forced to reconsider her decision. The night before, she’d been weighed down with an adrenaline crash and a few glasses of wine. Daniel had forgone the drinks, but he always thought with his heart. She woke up early and made her way to his kitchen, in search of tea. Sadly, she was forced to settle for coffee. “Americans!” she thought to herself, almost more disappointed with herself for not bringing an armada of tea when she’d come to the states than with any rash decisions she’d made the previous night. When Daniel came down that morning, she began by berating him for his lack of tea. “Oh boy” he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, hair adorably mussed, in Peggy’s entirely unbiased opinion. “Peg, it’s too early for this.” “Too early… TOO EARLY?” She yelled, impatient at being stopped mid-joke-rampage. “Daniel, I expected you to have the proper makings of a proper breakfast. That includes tea. You’re lucky to have me here or else I’m not sure what you would do without me! Why, Los Angeles might fall into some sort of, of, of a tea shortage if I’m not here to regulate supply and demand! I mean-” He put a hand on her arm. “‘You’re lucky to have me here?’” he repeated softly. “Does that imply a long-term stay?” With a start, Peggy realized that she had been speaking without thinking, but it was that exact lack of thinking that made her realize she simply expected to be staying in L.A. That’s the way she saw the foreseeable future of her life. L.A., with its ridiculous lack of tea and preposterous foliage, was home. Never before had she been so solidly positive about what the next decade or so held. She would stay, with Daniel. … 3 Months Later … Life with Daniel was more perfect than she could ever have imagined. As soon as she’d made the decision to stay in L.A., a whirlwind of years of pent up emotions had been released. Peggy had spent most of her time at the SSR feeling restrained. She had always worried that if she showed too much emotion, people would chalk it up to her gender, and she refused to be the female stereotype. For entirely different reasons, Daniel had felt the same way. Repressed, stoic, unfeeling. This was neither of their natures, but situation had forced them to act this way. But, as soon as the gate had been breached, they spent several days holed up together; doing every cheesy, overly emotional trope they felt needed doing. They drank quite a lot. Wine for Daniel, whatever for Peggy. Which was mostly wine. Daniel had quite a lot of wine. Peggy decided to consider it grape tea, steeped a long time. With that mess out of the way, she drank with him often. They talked. Endlessly. About anything and everything. For the first day, they mostly relegated themselves to all the minor details of life they’d never discussed before. She realized she couldn’t name his favorite food, and he was shocked to learn she didn’t enjoy reading very much. He quickly supplied her with more books than she’d ever need. And later, they often went out to Daniel’s favorite french bistro, where Peggy constantly charmed the staff with her flawless French while Daniel looked on adoringly. After the beginning, they found themselves drawn back to the topic of each other. The first moment she noticed him. It was far later than the first moment he’d noticed her. His puppy dog crush. Her pretend ignorance. That time the others had made him accidentally walk in on her changing in the locker room. How stupid he’s felt. How embarrassed she’d been. How unimportant it all seemed in the rearview mirror. They danced. For hours. Peggy was slightly disappointed to find that awake-world Daniel wasn’t quite as elegant as dream-world Daniel, but it was clear that pre-crutch, he’d been incredibly graceful. She was saddened by the fact that she’d never get her fairytale dance, but loved how they learned from each other and worked around it seamlessly. Peggy, of course, could dance like nobody’s business. She’d been subjected to years of ballet as a child, and the grace and poise drilled into her from a young age had carried over into her adult years. Despite the discrepancy, they whirled away. They kissed. Constantly. It was just as perfect and sweet as Daniel could have hoped. Each kiss was a breath of relief. Years of pain and misery pulled away. Lightening him. Relaxing her. There had been logistics, of course, but as the days of Peggy’s stay turned into weeks, and then months, they lost their air of importance. The New York office required some placating, losing one of their best detectives to what was only supposed to be a short case was a blow, and Angie cried endlessly over the phone, bemoaning her loss of neighbor. The new people, she told Peggy in confidence, had very loud sex. This made Daniel privately glad that they didn’t live in an apartment building. In their house, the neighbors were far enough away not to be bothered by that sort of thing. And her things had to be sent over, and the post office had to be informed, but that was all taken care of, and rather seamlessly, and altogether too quickly by a slightly too eager-to-please young lady from Mr. Stark’s company. For those many months, Daniel’s life revolved happily around Peggy, leaving him little time to dwell on Violet, and his life that had been. Until one strange August day when she showed up on his doorstep with a worried expression. After some hurried small talk, they situated themselves in the living room with tea, for Peggy, and strong coffee, for Violet and Daniel. The couple exchanged a look of concern towards the lowered head of the nurse, staring into her coffee. After another moment of taut silence, she glanced from one set of concerned eyes to the other across the room, and started in. “You know the unsolved murder of Mr. Thompson? Well...

....

I had a BLAST writing this. Now, as with all of my gift fics, a mini playlist inspired by the fic! Feel free to listen or not, as you wish. (All songs are on itunes and spotify)

If These Arms Could Hold You, by 3blindmice & Casey Hurt Heavily, by Jed Whedon and Maurissa Tancharoen To Start, by Carry Hatchet Oh, What a Life, by American Authors Write it in the Sky, by Kina Grannis Those to Come, by The Shins Eternal Night, by Carry Hatchet Midnight City, by M83 Whatcha Gonna Do (it’s Up To You), by The Cast of Agent Carter (of course I had to include this one!

#peggysous #peggysousexchange #ohpeggysous #agentmc #Fic

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ohpeggysous · 8 years

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Hello! I'm afraid my exchange gift will be late... I was very sick for two weeks before my assigned date. Will you still be checking for late entries? I have every plan to post it tomorrow on the 30th >_>

Hello!

We’re accepting late entries through the end of this weekend! If you haven’t posted your gift, please do so by the end of the day tomorrow. We will be checking the status of all gifts starting on Monday!

Hope this helps.

#ohpeggysous #peggysousexchange #anon #replies

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mattmurdocksgirl · 8 years

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May I Have This Dance?

Hi there @poeedamervn ! I am your Peggysous exchangee. Here is the story I wrote based on your prompt. I hope it is something like what you wanted!

This takes place the night of the season ending. I imagine that with the lack of cell phones, they wouldn’t find out about what happened to Jack until late that night or the next day. Now, if Agent Carter could get renewed so that WE could find out what happened to Jack, that would be great.

Anyway, I hope you like it.

Peggy stood at the top of Howard Stark’s staircase listening to the commotion going on below her. Daniel had arrived for their dinner date, and although she was ready to go, Anna Jarvis made her promise to wait so that she could make a grand entrance. Peggy argued that she was not a 17 year old girl going on her first date, but Anna was insistent and Peggy found that it was very difficult to deny her anything.

“Hello, Chief Sousa,” Mr. Jarvis said stiffly. “Please come in.”

“Mr. Jarvis, nice to see you again.” Peggy could imagine the confused look on Daniel’s face as he entered the foyer. It wasn’t the first time that he’d been there, and he probably didn’t expect to be welcomed quite so formally, now. “Mrs. Jarvis. Are you feeling well?”

“Quite well, thank you,” she heard Anna respond. Anna had only just arrived home from the hospital earlier that day, but had insisted on helping Peggy get ready for her evening out. “Peggy will be down in just a moment. Can I get you anything?”

“Oh no. I’m fine, thank you.”

“So you are taking Ms. Carter out for dinner.” It was a statement more than a question and Peggy had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing at the accusing tone that Mr. Jarvis used when delivering it.

“Yeah, dinner. There’s this new place in town that Rose suggested, so I thought we’d give it a try.”

“I see. Well, if you are traveling into town, you will probably do well to have a driver. I’m sure Mr. Stark won’t object to the use of one of his vehicles. I’ll just go grab my things.”

“You will do no such thing, Mr. Jarvis.” Peggy descended the stairs finally and tried to ignore the relieved look that Daniel was giving her. “We are quite old enough not to require a chaperone, thank you very much.”

“Wow, Peggy. You look……I mean you are…….” Seeming to notice the curious and somewhat ominous look that Mr. Jarvis was giving him, he tried again. “You look lovely tonight, Peggy.”

“Thank you, Daniel. Perhaps we should be on our way?” She turned to Anna, who passed her jacket to her, as well as her small handbag. On her way toward the door, she stopped in front of Mr. Jarvis and gave him a knowing look. “Don’t wait up.”

A short time later, they were seated at a table for two tucked neatly in a quiet corner of the restaurant. Peggy guessed that Daniel must have requested a bit of privacy, and she appreciated that. It would also be easier to hear each other over the music coming from the large dance floor in the middle of the room. “Thank you,” she said as he pulled her chair out for her. “This is a lovely place. Did you say that Rose recommended it?”

“You heard that, huh? I bet you were standing at the top of the stairs listening to that whole exchange, weren’t you?”

“Well, yes. I might have been, but it was an order from Mrs. Jarvis and it is almost impossible to tell that woman no. I completely understand Mr. Jarvis’s devotion to her.”

“I haven’t felt that nervous since I took Suzy Winston to a school dance 12 years ago.” Daniel chuckled as he began to look over the menu.

“I believe that Mr. Jarvis was just having a little bit of fun at our expense.”

“Well, he made a good show of it. If he ever has a daughter, God help the boy who shows up to take her out on a date.”

Peggy’s face fell for a brief moment, remembering that because of her injuries, Anna wouldn’t be able to have children. Daniel seemed to catch on quickly and began to curse himself for not thinking. “I guess that was a pretty insensitive thing to say, wasn’t it?”

“Well, there are other ways for them to have children if they choose to. Besides, let’s be honest. One day Howard Stark is going to end up fathering at least one child that the Jarvis’s will end up taking care of along with everything else he owns. Quite frankly, I can’t believe it hasn’t already happened.” Deciding to change the subject to something a bit less awkward, she picked up her menu. “So what looks good?”

“Everything, really. Should I order us a bottle of wine?”

“That sounds lovely.”

As the waiter delivered dessert and coffee, Daniel finished telling Peggy a bit about his family and his childhood. Peggy had done the same over dinner. It was nice to just sit together and talk about things that were not related to their jobs or the people that they worked with, and Peggy wasn’t the least bit surprised that conversation flowed easily between them.

“Peggy? Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can,” she gave him an indulgent smile. “We’ve been asking each other questions all night, haven’t we?”

“Earlier today, in my office….”

“Yes, when you were attempting to read me the Riot Act?”

“I wasn’t doing that,” he frowned.

“Well, not really. The Riot Act of 1714 applied to 12 or more people, and as I am only one person, it wouldn’t be applicable. Besides, I was being neither unlawful nor riotous.”

Daniel shook his head disbelievingly. “Thank you for the history lesson, but my question is about what happens now?”

“Well, I am staying in town for a few weeks, and I suppose we will have to figure out what this is between us. If we decide that it is something that we would like to pursue, we will have to figure a few things out. Dinner seems a step in the right direction, doesn’t it?”

“I can tell you now that this is something that I would very much like to pursue, Peggy, but I’m not sure that it is fair to you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh really? And why is that, Daniel?”

“From the moment I met you, I knew that you were something special. You are so full of life and willing to fight for what you want, even in a world that has tried in every way to reduce you to nothing more than just a girl.”

“Says the man who, despite an obvious handicap, is now Chief Sousa of the SSR. I think that we are similar in that regard.”

“When it comes to work, I agree. I have limits, though, Peggy. I will have this crutch for the rest of my life. I’m not sure that it is fair to ask you to tie yourself to that, when you could have anything, or anyone, that you wanted.”

“Has it ever occurred to you, Daniel, that what I want is you? It may have taken you moving across the country for me to realize it, but I did and here we are. I would have thought it was obvious from that kiss in your office today.”

“I don’t know. I suppose it should be, but Krzeminski once gleefully suggested that no girl was going to trade in a red, white and blue shield for an aluminum crutch.”

“I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Agent Krzeminski was an idiot.” She reached over the table and placed her hand over his, entwining their fingers together.

“Yeah, but he has a point. People look at me and see my handicap, Peggy. Why would you want anything to do with that?”

“To me, you are no more defined by that crutch, than Steve Rogers was by his shield. Others may see it and make judgments about you, but I see you for who you really are. A war hero, an excellent SSR agent, and most importantly a very good man.”

He squeezed her hand gently and smiled. “You are something else, Peggy Carter.”

She gave him an expectant look as the music turned slower. “The only question I have left for you is whether or not you plan to ask me to dance, Daniel?”

“Peggy, I don’t think that dancing is something that I can do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you can. You fought Dottie Underwood by yourself, how hard can a little dancing be?”

“I really just don’t think that…..”

“Limits, Daniel. We don’t have to choose to be defined by them. Are you really afraid of a dance floor?” She was challenging him, and she could see in his eyes the moment when he decided to accept that challenge.

He stood up and held out his hand to her. “Would you dance with me, Ms. Carter?”

A smile spread across her face as she took his hand. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Sousa.” When he reached for his crutch, she stopped him. “Leave your crutch. I will help you.”

He knew there was no use in arguing with her, so he didn’t. As they made their way to the dance floor, he had to lean on her to help him walk but she didn’t mind a bit. Nor did she mind when he held her a little closer than perhaps was appropriate for a first date.

They danced together. He might not have been able to spin her all around the dance floor the way some couples were, but Peggy didn’t care about that one bit. She was with a wonderful man and she felt like the luckiest woman on the dance floor.

There were still hurdles to be crossed. Would the SSR allow her to transfer out here to LA? Could they work together and be in a relationship? If they couldn’t, what would they do? Those were questions for another day, and she felt sure that together they could overcome any and all obstacles ahead of them.

Right now, she was just happy to be in his arms, and for tonight, that was enough.

#poeedamervn #peggysousexchange #ohpeggysous #agent carter #peggy carter #daniel sousa #edwin jarvis #anna jarvis #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #agent carter fanfic #agent carter fan fiction #peggysous

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agentmc · 8 years

Text

My Peggysous Exchange fic goes out to @inlovewithalapdog who prompted:

“I almost lost you!”

Had fun working on this! Hope you enjoy it!

No end in sight

Summary: A missing file and now a missing Chief. As her past catches up with her present, it’s up to Peggy to piece together the clues and rescue Daniel before someone gets other ideas.

Also on AO3.

“Daniel’s been taken.”

Peggy had barely crossed the threshold of duplicitous talent agency before being greeted with the news. She stopped abruptly, oblivious to the door clipping her arm as it swung shut, and blinked in confusion as the woman who’d uttered the distressing message rushed over to her. Rose looked uncharacteristically flustered - her forehead was wrinkled with worry and her glasses sat askew on the bridge of her nose. Her appearance alone would have been enough to alert Peggy that something was wrong, yet it still took a moment to process what she’d just heard - or thought she’d heard. Surely it couldn’t--

“Taken? What do you mean taken?...Rose?”

Rose wrung her hands and avoided looking at Peggy directly. "I tried calling you the moment we found out but you must have already left the house. I--” The flurry of words broke off with a sigh of frustration. Then taking her by surprise, Rose grabbed hold of Peggy’s arm with an iron grip and led her through the lobby and up the stairs to the SSR offices explaining the situation on the way.

“We got a strange phone call early this morning. Someone claimed they had Chief and were holding him in exchange for some sort of information. It was all very odd like they expected us to know exactly what they wanted but none of the agents could make any sense of it. Most of them are still trying to process what happened to Chief Thompson yesterday. Anyways a few of the guys just got back from checking Daniel’s house and it’s true - he’s gone. The lock on the front door had been smashed in and there were signs of a struggle inside. He must have tried to call for help because the phone had been left off the hook and there was some blood--” Rose paused under the guise of having to catch her breath but Peggy knew she was just sparing her the unsavory details.

In any case, it didn’t matter because the phone rang forcing Rose away and Peggy was left alone with her head spinning. As the other agents convened in the center of the room to formulate a strategy, Peggy quietly slipped into Daniel’s office and collapsed in his chair. She felt numb, too stunned to move or think clearly, but the image of a beaten, bloody Daniel flashing in her mind forced her into concentrating. For his sake she needed to stay calm and focus just as if it were any other mission.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back in the chair and began running through recent events in her mind trying desperately to recall some sort of clue that might prove relevant.

What hadn’t happened? Between the extended trip to Los Angeles, the Isodyne case, and Thompson getting shot, it seemed that anything could and would change in an instant. In addition to work, her personal life had taken a sudden turn as her relationship with Daniel made a welcome progression.

It was strange to think that it had all started in the exact spot she was sitting in now only the day before. She could even still smell his aftershave clinging to the leather, like she could take him in her arms again - like everything was just as it should be.

Her eyes flashed open.

But now it wasn’t. Not even close.

How was it possible that so much could change in just twenty-four hours?

For a few brief moments, Peggy Carter had finally found bliss. It was the feeling of Daniel’s hair running through her fingers and his moans that resulted as her nails scraped against his scalp. It was the firmness of his chest pressed against her breasts as she sat atop him and shifted from one side to the other trying to grasp at every inch of him and get closer and closer still. It was the taste of his lips and skin as their mouths greedily ravaged one another after being denied the pleasure for so long.

What had only once been a fantasy in her imagination had become reality - a real living, breathing moment that she could hold onto and remember forever. The chaos of the rest of the world faded away into background. Nothing else mattered beyond those four walls. No problems to solve. Nothing to worry about. Only them.

When they reluctantly re-emerged sometime later with their clothes rumpled and hair mussed, they expected questions about their lengthy “meeting” but instead were met with the most unimaginable news. Jack Thompson had been shot and was at the hospital in critical condition.

Due to the quick thinking of a hotel maid he was alive, miraculously considering the close range, but still far from being out of danger.

To come down from such a high to discover that one of their own had been attacked was devastating - the lowest of lows. Peggy felt a pang of guilt at finding her long-awaited happiness during such a moment.

Immediately Peggy, Daniel, and the other agents on hand went to the hospital and sat solemnly in cold, stiff chairs for hours waiting to hear Jack’s status after surgery. When the doctor finally emerged, he provided them a glimmer of hope. Thompson had made it through surgery and was stable, but he was going to have a long and arduous recovery ahead of him.

Peggy and Daniel exchanged glances as the other agents breathed a momentary sigh of relief. If there was one person who knew about a long recovery, it was Daniel.

As soon as the doctor left them to return to his patient, Peggy felt a new energy fill the room as their next thoughts turned to how to proceed. Since, it would be hours before Jack was awake, it was decided that the Chief and Peggy should visit the scene of the crime.

Due to it being an attempt on one of their agent’s lives, they were allowed to assist in the investigation. The police had already finished with the preliminary work of dusting for fingerprints and gathering evidence, of which there was little, but after looking around the small hotel room, it was the absence of a specific item that sent off warning bells in Peggy’s head.

“Has anything been removed from this room, Officer?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Peggy carefully walked around the room again and confirmed her suspicions. The file that Jack had planned to use against her was missing. The police had already gone through his packed luggage and documented a list of its contents. There was no account for the file anywhere. Every other piece of paperwork in his briefcase had been carefully detailed.

Jack knew how important the information was, considering the difficulty he’d likely had in obtaining it. He wouldn’t have been careless with it or given it away. Despite their past differences and his ego that was prone to flattery from Vernon and others officials in charge, Peggy knew that he hadn’t betrayed her, not after their last conversation. The only explanation for the missing file was that the shooter had taken it and Peggy was the only person who could possibly be aware of this. Even Daniel didn’t know about its existence. She’d planned on telling him everything once the dust of the Isodyne case had settled.

Since it was late and there was little else they could do for the time being, Daniel convinced Peggy to go home and get some rest. The car ride to the Stark mansion was mostly silent but there was a certain unspoken tension between them. Peggy knew that Daniel had sensed her realization in Jack’s room, but yet he hadn’t pried. He seemed to be waiting for her to explain in her own time. There was trust in his patience.

As they pulled into the driveway, Peggy felt the emotions of the day finally catch up to her. “Daniel, I...” But the words only dried up in the cool night air.

Daniel turned off the engine and covered her hand with his, squeezing gently. “It’s late. It’s been a long day. Don’t worry about it. Get some rest and we can talk about it in the morning.”

“But I - there’s so much I need to tell you. I just wish...” Her past, her present, her hopes and desires, her failures - all on the tip of her tongue and yet...

He squeezed again and smiled gently before getting out of the car and walking around to open her door. Taking his offered hand, she allowed him to lead her to the front door as her exhaustion hit her full on.

Pausing when they reached the house, she sighed feeling a hundred emotions all at once. “This is not at all how I expected this day to go.”

Daniel nodded. “One of the things I learned during the war was how much life can change in an instant. Even at the SSR, I still brace myself for bad news about something happening to one of my agents on a daily basis. It’s the nature of the job, but it’s what I’ve chosen to do, what we’ve chosen to do. You can’t blame yourself for what happened to Thompson or anybody else. We all chose this. I love this work and being able to do it by your side. We make a difference in this world and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Peggy swallowed.

“But having said that,” Daniel continued, sensing her hesitation, “we don’t need to solve every problem tonight. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

She nodded as the relief in having Daniel’s trust flooded through her system. “Okay.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips and lingered for a moment. There seemed to be something on his mind as well but he only whispered a quick “goodnight” before heading back to his car.

We’ll talk in the morning, the comforting words replayed in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

Now sitting alone in his office hours later, she cursed herself for not telling Daniel everything right then and there. Why hadn’t she at least given him some idea about what was happening and why?

But at least now she knew the reason for his kidnapping.

With a renewed sense of determination, Peggy marched out of the office and into the center of the room where the group of agents were gathered.

“They want a file.”

The men turned around and studied her curiously.

“Thompson was in possession of a - of my - personal file from the war. It was missing from his luggage when Daniel and I went to his room last night meaning that whoever shot Thompson must have taken it. It wasn’t something that he would have left out of his sight. I have a strong feeling that Daniel’s been kidnapped not by the shooter but by someone who wants the information back in their hands. And I know just who that is.”

Two hours later Peggy found herself pulling in front of a large abandoned warehouse on the edge of the desert. There was an eerie déjà vu about the scene with the memories of the Isodyne case still fresh in her memory. She half-expected Whitney Frost to waltz out the door and greet her.

Thankfully this time there no threats of atomic bombs or rifts in space - only wartime secrets and those who wished to keep them that way.

An agreement had been reached between the parties. Peggy would provide the information she knew in exchange for Daniel’s release. She must come alone and unarmed. As much as it pained her, she’d acquiesced to the terms and left her trusty pistol at the office, not wanting to chance Daniel’s safety even by stashing it in the glove compartment.

As soon as she killed the engine, two armed men in expensive looking suits emerged from the building and silently escorted her to an empty concrete-walled room inside. The guards exited and another man in a dark suit entered.

“Agent Margaret Carter,” the man said in her native accent, “We meet at last.”

“It’s Peggy actually,” she replied coolly. “And just who pray might I have the pleasure of addressing?”

The man reached into his jacket and flashed a badge. “Agent Stamford. MI-6. At your service.” He dipped his head courteously but even though it appeared genuine the gesture only added to her irritation.

“Alright, Agent Stamford, I’m not here to waste time with false pleasantries. Let’s get down to business.”

“I see you have learned the American way.” He gave a brief smile and nodded. “As you are likely already aware, it seems that a file, a redacted one concerning yourself, has mysteriously disappeared from the SOE records. We have reason to believe that it has fallen into SSR hands. While our countries may be allies, some secrets need to remain so. Wouldn’t you agree, Agent?”

She ignored the question. “What does Chief Sousa have to do with any of this? He doesn’t know that that file even exists. I demand that you release him at once and I’ll tell you what I know.”

The man smirked. “You’re right he hasn’t given us anything, not even under duress. But we were already aware of his ignorance even before taking him in. I think you know precisely why we’re holding him. It was not very difficult to find out about your...particular attachment to the Chief. Our next choice was obvious. How else could we guarantee that you would talk?”

Peggy felt her rage flare again but kept silent.

When Stamford realized she wasn’t going to react he continued with his original questioning. “Now as a British citizen working in America you have to admit this situation looks awfully suspicious. Perhaps passing wartime secrets might help a woman such as yourself advance in your department.”

“If you are implying that the only way I have advanced in my career is through treason and deceit, I would strongly advise against it. I am loyal to both my home country as well as the one I serve now. They do not cancel each other out, as you said we are allies. Besides you know damn well that the file isn’t even mine. It was a forgery to slander the name of my brother. Someone who was jealous of Michael’s accomplishments and feeling threatened by my position in the SOE decided to file a false report about Michael and incriminate myself along with it - kill two birds with one stone and destroy the family name in the process. I worked very hard to get those lies removed and restore the good name of my brother.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true. It’s on record, redacted or no, and it is information that belongs to Great Britain. We will decide on the validity of such a document. Now if you’ll just tell us where it is we might begin to settle this matter.”

Peggy gritted her teeth and marched straight up to the agent, forcing herself to keep her fists at her side even though she was strongly tempted to knock some sense into the man. “I want to see him first.”

The man considered a moment, then nodded and led her out of the room through a darkened corridor. He stopped in front of an identical looking room as the one they’d just left with the exception of a small window near the door. Even with the dim light, she could make out Daniel sitting on the floor with his back against a far wall. His crutch was missing and there were several wounds on his face with some of the blood having ended up flecked across his shirt. He was battered but conscious and otherwise appeared to be in good form.

Her anger swelled but knowing Daniel’s safety was in her hands she managed to swallow it down. “I want assurances that he walks out of here with me and without further injury.”

The MI-6 agent nodded sharply. “You have my word, Agent Carter.”

With one more look at Daniel who appeared unable to see her, she sighed and began. “You’ll find that file in the hands of Vernon Masters or one of his close associates. I thought he’d been killed in an explosion relating to another case we’d been working on but there’s a chance he’s a good chance he survived since his body was not recovered. He'd persuaded one of our agents into finding information to use against me to advance his career. Vernon works for the FBI but he’s power hungry and will stop at nothing to gain control even if it means turning government agents against each other. That particular agent of ours decided not to side with Vernon and was shot yesterday. The file was stolen from his room. Vernon would have been the only person besides myself that knew about it. None of the other agents were aware of its existence, including Chief Sousa. Send out a search for Vernon or the rest of his minions and I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for. You might want to be careful about warning the FBI since his corruption runs deep. I hope you succeed because you have no idea how much I look forward to seeing him and his men brought to justice.”

Immediately Stamford went to his men who were waiting around the corner to relate the information. Seconds later she heard the screech of tires on the gravel outside as the men sped off in search of the wanted suspects. When Stamford appeared again there was a key in his hand.

“Thank you, Agent Carter. You have been most helpful.”

“Was this really necessary, Agent Stamford? You’ve held an innocent man hostage for nothing.”

Stamford shrugged. “Like I said we had to make sure you’d talk. So it wasn’t quite for nothing. You don’t seem like the type that voluntarily gives away information.” He inserted the key into the lock and unlatched the door with a loud clank of metal. “You’re both free to go.” Without any further explanation, he walked off and out of sight as mysteriously as he’d arrived. Good riddance.

At the sound of the door opening, Daniel’s head perked up and when he realized it was Peggy every inch of his body sighed with relief.

“Peg--” he started to say before his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed and regained composure. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Thought she’d managed to control herself, her heart had nearly broken at the sight of him. Yet despite everything he’d been put through, Daniel still was Daniel through-and-through with his usual humor firmly intact. Her steady and resilient partner-in-crime that had become something more.

She rushed over to him as he struggled to his feet.

“Oh Daniel, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes brimmed with tears as she helped him stand. “I was so worried. I-I thought I’d almost lost you.”

He placed an arm around her shoulders to steady himself and gave a slightly pained smile. “I survived the war and losing a leg. It would take a lot more than a few British Intelligence guys to break me. Speaking of which - you know I’m a big fan of your country, but that was hardly the hospitality I would expect from your people.”

With her free hand, Peggy smoothed down his hair and then pressed her palm to his cheek as she evaluated his injuries. “Well some of us could learn a thing or two, but I think you’ll find most much more pleasant than those gits.”

“I don’t know,” he said with a teasing tone. “After what I’ve been through, I think you need to take me to England and prove it.”

She studied him thoughtfully. “Deal. Now how about we get you out of here? There’s a first-aid-kit in the car--”

Daniel put up a hand to stop her. “Wait, I was only kidding. Do you really mean you’d take me to England?”

She shrugged. “Of course. My parents aren’t really fond of traveling so how else am I supposed to introduce you to them.”

Daniel’s face softened, completely oblivious to the pain that he was no doubt experiencing. “You know I wanted to tell you something last night and I didn’t and I’ve been beating myself up ever since. Well, um...it’s just that--” The confidence in his manner had vanished replaced with a nervousness as he fumbled for words. It pleased Peggy immensely to see this side of him.

He opened then closed his mouth before sucking in a deep breath and looking back at her. “I love you, Peg.”

She pursed her lips and fought back a smile. “I know.”

“Oh. Right. I guess I was pretty obvious. But I-I just wanted to say it, you know - so you knew for certain. I’ve wanted to say it for some time but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I just never want to feel like there’s something I didn’t get to say to you ever again.”

Peggy nodded. “I agree. Speaking of which, you may have also realized it sometime between me grabbing your face and shoving you down in that chair, but I need to say it too - I love you, Daniel, and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon so you better get used to me being in Los Angeles.”

He chuckled softly being grabbing his rib and wincing. “I think some of these bruises came from you yesterday.” He waved off her look of concern and then with the most delicate of touches brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “I don’t ever want there to be secrets between us.”

“Nor do I,” she said soberly. “Which is why I want to tell you about my time in the war and begin explaining what this whole ordeal has been about. But first - let’s get out of here. I don’t know about you but I’ve had my fill of creepy abandoned buildings for the foreseeable future.”

They slowly began to shuffle their way out of the room. “No creepy buildings. Done. Any other requests?” He asked resuming his playful nature.

“Um...well now that your asking: a hot bath, a glass of whiskey, and maybe a trip to one of these beaches that I’ve heard so much about but have yet to see.”

“I think we can manage that. You know before getting so rudely kidnapped I was planning on taking some vacation days myself.” He stopped short, a shadow flashing in his eyes. “That is, I mean, before everything happened with Jack.”

“The hospital called right before I left and said that Jack is awake but isn’t allowed visitors yet. They sounded very positive that he will make a full recovery, but he’s going to need a lot of support.”

Daniel knew full well what that meant. “I’ll do what I can, but I’m not sure he’;; want my help. He’s too headstrong.”

“I think if anyone needs a friend right now it’s Jack and at this point you’re the closest thing resembling one that he’s got. I’ll be there too, of course. Between the two of us, I think we can whip him back into shape.”

Pausing to catch their breath once they’d made it outside, they looked around in awe at the desolate stark beauty of the desert around them. Now that the difficult matter was over they could appreciate their surroundings. It was silent save for the howl of the wind that swept through the valley and stirred up the dust into sandy clouds. The late afternoon sun bathed them in a warm glow which was more than welcome after the drafty bleakness from which they’d emerged.

Standing together, arms around each other, the only two souls left in the vast empty wilderness after having survived another day - it brought to mind something Daniel had said to her only days before.

“I’m in this with you until the end,” she echoed.

Daniel smiled. “And I meant it.”

“Good,” she replied emphatically before adjusting her arm around his waist and leading them forward once again. “Because we’ve got a long way to go.”

#peggysousexchange #peggysous #ohpeggysous #inlovewithalapdog #peggysous fic #agentmc fic #i'm bad at summaries

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