driftfleet | did somebody say mingle

[ He frowns; the full reaction will hit him in a moment, but for now, he quickly compartmentalises. ]

Is there any reason you'd want this highly classified? I didn't read it anywhere.

[ If she would, a yes is all he needs. He trusts her judgement. ]

[ highly classified. peggy quirks her head at the implication -- still living in the aftermath of dooley's death, it's hard to say what might someday prompt such a decision.

she sucks in her breath. ] It wasn't our finest hour. I'll grant that. But embarrassment isn't the best excuse for redaction. [ ... ] Though I don't see where my wants enter into the equation.

[ after all, she still sees herself as something of a desk-jockey. or, rather, the agency does. ]

[ That's — weird, even if SHIELD doesn't exist yet. ]

... Why not? You served same s'us.

[ It's terribly, unnecessarily blunt, naive in only the way he is: having a vague idea of her situation and assuming something changed after the war. She rose up to head SHIELD, didn't she? They had to have been listening to her. Someone did, at least. ]

I did, yes. God knows I did.

[ softly, she concedes. and she does not complain about that which she endured: the ignominy and marginalization at the ssr offices. perhaps if he thinks about it long enough, barnes will come to the conclusion all upon his own.

after all, she isn't the sort to make a grand to-do about her own burdens. instead, she takes another stiff drink of scotch. ]

But that report's security level wouldn't have been my call to make.

[ He's missing something. It's sitting on the tip of his tongue. ]

All right.

[ It'll niggle at him until he figures it out, but for now he's willing to accept that an agent involved might not have the same input. After all, this grows up to be something run by Nick Fury, and Peggy would've had a say in that matter. She might've been a soldier once, but she's a spy first. ]

[ But maybe in the end, HYDRA is what destroys it, and not anything she said or did. ]

So the hypnosis — it didn't erase his memory, did it?

Edited (html my nemesis) 2015-09-19 01:46 (UTC)

No. Not really. Nor did it have the opportunity, if I'm honest. [ ... ] Chief Dooley died as a direct result of the mental tampering. And as for Stark, well --

[ a mild shrug. she doesn't really want to talk about the painful process of talking him down from from the air. so, instead, she deflects: ] Bloody hell, did you know his son is here?

[ His expression turns sympathetic. You prepare for loss, on the battlefield, but it never gets simpler to lose someone. He appreciates bullets to the head: at least that's quick, and the only mercy some men get. ]

Tony? Yeah. I know him.

[ Guess Howard found his right partner. ]

Chip off the old block, isn't he?

Remarkable, really. The voice is different. And so are the words. But the damned tone remains the same.

[ she harbours a great many reasons to go frigid on the thought of howard stark, but it's hard not to feel some manner or shape of friendship. and an odd course of warmth had hit her bloodstream the moment she'd met tony -- the very inkling of a protective streak. as though she owes howard at least that much. ]

And if he's half as smart as his father? Well -- [ she doesn't finish the sentence, but instead merely marvels for what that might mean for the future of stark industries. ]

[ A crooked smile. ]

You don't gotta tell me. Have you met Vision?

Is -- is that a person? [ no, she hadn't. but 'vision' seems like an odd name. perhaps barnes is actually speaking of a ship. ]

[ that's actually a very good question. ]

Ah — I think so? He's an android of some kind. Tony and Dr. Banner built him. I haven't met him in my timeline yet, but he's around here.

[ his timeline. she hides her bare reaction behind a sip -- eyes bright and sharp, besides, and never leaving barnes's behind. ]

An android. [ she tastes the word in the aftermath of scotch and lime. it rings vaguely familiar: like old forays into literature and bizarre french fiction. a brief flirtation with works on simulacra. but nothing that should ever suggest the word as more than fancy.

more than fantasy. ]

What's he like?

[ For one of the very few times in his life, words fail. Jim opens his mouth, closes it. Opens it again, then closes it, and cants his head, trying to catch the words in the air between them. ]

I think you should meet him.

Should I? [ her glass tilts. she replaces all her hesitation with a sudden wryness. ] It's beginning to feel like all I do is meet people. And most of them have these truly bizarre names. [ like, come on, vision? is that a name? ]

One young woman was calling herself Rogue of all things.

[ peggy isn't naturally inclined to gossip. but it's been a while since she'd had a strong drink, and her constitution hasn't necessarily adjusted perfectly to space-habitation. the lime and liquor has loosened her tongue, and she shows a little spirit when she recalls this name -- if it can be called that. ]

Well, there's also staring at the walls, or the ceiling, if you want a little variety.

[ There's nothing to do on these ships and it's driving him to actually socialise. It's terrible, Peggy. ]

[ He does, however, immediately brighten at mention of Rogue. ]

She's a sweet gal, ain't she?

[ it's a brightness she notes -- catalogues, and commits to the archives of her mind. ]

She's certainly practical. I don't know about sweet. [ but the way peggy says it? well, it almost sounds like she's trying to pay the young woman a compliment. practicality trumps the saccharine any day.

although a great swathe of her doubts barnes had meant the word quite that way, regardless. ]

[ Hey, he's just happy she's found someone to think well of, and all the better that it's a friend of his, although he's still figuring that one out. ]

There's stranger names to have.

[ Captain America. ]

[ she knows, of course. and she can guess the name he has in mind. and if she had the heart to refute it, she'd tell him how that moniker had been different. given at the behest of propaganda, but never in a way that obfuscated who steve had been.

but in the end these are mere quibbles. semantics. and peggy has far more interesting things to learn. ] Friends with her, are you?

[ Ruefully, ] You know me, friends with everybody.

[ The words ring hollow the way they never did, years ago. ]

Once upon a time. Perhaps.

[ -- he'd been a friendly sort. she can't deny it. won't deny it. ] But you call yourself Captain, now. The word comes upon the shoulders with weight and difference.

[ she isn't scolding him. nor is she quite begrudging him the appropriation of the name -- not in the way she wanted to from the very outset. instead, she's only declaring her comprehension for the difficult position it's put him in.

she can still remember the sound of rain on olive-drab canvas while she watched steve's loneliness weave itself through his sketchbook. weight and difference, indeed. ]

The world's changed, and none of us can go back.

[ Her own words to him, albeit years later, with a sweet and sour taste. ]

They treat him more like a general now, you know. Seventy years and — [ his expression twists into an ugly snarl ] you remember the mission we had, just before Paris was liberated?

[ Only them, and knee deep in blood. They never got cyanide pills the way he suspects Peggy did, but it was on all their minds: death before failure. They never talked about it after, but Steve? Steve would never let them do what he wasn't willing to do himself, ten times over. That's what nobody ever got right. ]

Its records are all gone. The rest are the same, or can't be declassified, to protect his memory.

[ What memory? Who is this Steve, who never cut a throat or threw a shield into a man hard enough to shatter his ribs and puncture his lungs? The table creaks, as Jim realises he's gripping the corner of it with his metal fist hard enough to pull a chunk out of the wood, and he lets go. ]

[ Soft, ]

I don't recognise him, Pegs. I don't know him at all.

[ peggy carter doesn't flinch in the face of his snarls. can't flinch, perhaps, or else refuses to. but her eyes stay trained on him evermore, and her jaw is set so she might avoid the telltale twitch of discomfort. she doesn't want to believe in the possibilities he begins to outline: a captain rogers whose shape has been bent once more to the purpose of propaganda. a memory, protected?

even today, she carries the vial in her pocket. and its weight is all she needs to remind herself that the men in charge don't know what to do with steve's memory, nor how to protect it. ]

Under whose orders? [ at last, she shifts in her chair. disquieted. feeling hollowed out by dread. ]

[ Peggy Carter, unflinching, stony in the face of the grief that's broken Jim apart. ]

[ Wearily, ] I don't know.

[ I didn't care to look. ]

How could you not -- [ her protest splinters, cracks in half, and she aborts it long before it reaches its most temperamental peak. all at once, her cheeks betray a flush of unhappiness. this isn't a flinch -- even now. more like the tremble of a volcano that's decided at the last minute that she doesn't want to erupt.

peggy must remind herself: barnes (this barnes) lives a different truth to hers. he doesn't survive on the blade-edge of spycraft and subterfuge. he doesn't thrive by tracing back the lines of power to find the very silent roots. barnes lived by the rifle, once. and now (if she's to take him at his word) he lives by the shield. it makes perfect sense why he shouldn't have searched out the reason why those facts had been buried.

she swallows more scotch and understands that she'll have to set the glass aside, soon. ]

They do this bloody awful radio show, about Steve, [ she starts again, more softly and far more sad. ] I'd like to meet the pillock whose idea that was. I'd love to poke him in the eyes.

[ as far as she could discern, a memory protected is little more than a memory besmirched. ]

[ Because he was angry, too, at losing a whole world — and didn't need to look too long or too hard at everything around him to know that he hated it down to the very atoms that made it up. That he still does, because the more he uncovers the uglier it looks. ]

[ He scowls, but not at her show of stillborn temper. ]

The Captain America Adventure Hour?

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cw: war gore

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