did somebody say mingle

[redactions]

Who: The crew of the SS Heron and visitors.
Broadcast: nope.
Action: Aboard the SS Heron.
When: Throughout the month.

[ starters in comments, feel free to backdate/forward date anything. ]

Comments

[mucked]

When he went down, I -- [ no. peggy shakes her head with some force. she isn't here to dish out her own sorrow and lay it on someone else's shoulders. she's here to learn what she can, and offer all the support she can muster.

so: ] Waking up, then. What was that like?

[redactions]

Peggy, [ he says, softly, and he reaches across for her hand, if she'll let him. ] I know; I loved him too.

[mucked]

[ her chin lifts. he speaks a kind of truth, and she doesn't find herself beaten down because it. instead, peggy feels strangely buoyed. love is a word she's never used when talking about steve. not for lack of love itself, but because the appropriate opportunity had never arrived. it isn't for anyone else to hear, but inside her own thoughts she could ascribe nothing less than love for the man whose mission still haunts her. love for him energizes her career at every turn.

so peggy allows him her hand. she wraps her fingers firmly around his. her emotions appear stark upon her face. ] What an unbearably sweet thing to hear said. [ i loved him too. ] I know it's uncharitable of me, James, But -- at times I'm left feeling like no one else understands. His country mourned their hero.

[ we lost the man. regardless of when and how. by plane crash or by lethal fall, they'd both lost steve. ]

[redactions]

[ She's the only person who gets to have it. Not because he's ashamed of his emotions, the breadth or the depth of them — he's never cared what people will say and he's not about to start now — but because no one else gets to have the real Steve. ]

His country mourned a thing it made.

[ Maybe that is uncharitable. But Captain America was only ever a weapon of war. ]

I don't think they ever knew him. Not like we did.

[ Her. The Commandos. Everyone else who couldn't ignore the bright, enduring person Steve became in those dark hours. ]

[mucked]

[ -- christ almighty, but he inspires a hitch in her breath. the barest suggestion of a compromised heart, having too long born the grief alone. she'd allowed howard a glimpse of it from time to time but...no, this is different. this is a raw nerve soaked in scotch and dashed with the sting of lime juice. ]

Most didn't, at least. [ but peggy wouldn't write off the whole lot. she's seen inklings of his legacy. and although she can sense james's equally raw nerve on display, she hasn't yet lost so much of her own sensibility as to paint the matter in terms of us vs. them.

even though she wants to. the vial in her pocket demands it, but she keeps that secret still. better not fan his flames for fear of her own catching fire once again. ]

[redactions]

[ His fingers twine with hers and squeeze gently. ]

Everyone who did is either dead or dying.

[ Even her — and he'll keep his mouth sealed on her fate. It's a cruel way to go. ]

[mucked]

I take it the future is a lonely place -- [ she inhales, sharp-like. if it's lonely for barnes, then it's lonely for steve as well. ]

[redactions]

I get by. There's [ he inhales ] good people. Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff.

[ There's a lightness to both those names, a levity in breath that says, I love them. ]

[mucked]

[ the affection doesn't go unnoticed, but peggy leaves it to the wayside for a moment to ask: ] Romanoff? Bloody hell.

[ the name is familiar, if only because the woman had introduced herself upon peggy's arrival. and yet had given no indication of...anything. well, perhaps she had no reason to do so. peggy doesn't anticipate having any legacy of her own. but coincidence is a funny thing. ]

Name like that, I'd thought -- well, it was uncharitable what I thought. But she's someone from home?

[ your home. ]

[redactions]

[ — oh, right. The Cold War. The Russians are the enemy, when honestly it was a war and both sides should've gotten the hell over themselves, in his honest (sergeant's) opinion. ]

The one here? No. I know a different woman by the same name.

[ They have a lot in common, but he doesn't have the right to judge, not when both Natashas haven't let him see it all. ]

She's on our team.

[ His opinion might not count for anything, but he feels oddly — defensive? Protective? Of her. She's fought so hard to go straight after joining SHIELD. To be the protector she is at her core instead of things that're tactically sound, or will exclusively value her survival over others. ]

[ He can't not speak up on behalf of a dear friend. ]

[mucked]

[ our team. he can't have meant it to include herself, she thinks. but the word-choice sticks there like a dart in the bullseye. she won't forget it quickly. ]

More differences across the aether. [ she sighs. ] You trust her?

[ because a 'yes' is all peggy needs to consider romanoff in a new light. ]

[redactions]

Yes.

[ The answer is without hesitation. Near-absolute. Nat — his Nat — would say it's dangerous, he doesn't know everything, only what's been calculated. But Jim would rather die trusting Natasha than not. ]

[mucked]

-- Alright. [ it's no free pass. peggy will still have to make the rest of the evaluation all on her own, but his word is enough to put a foot in the door and indicate to her that she can approach romanoff with something besides the brusque and almost-cheerful outer shell. ]

In that case, I suppose it bears meeting her a second time.

[redactions]

Don't mention it.

[ Seriously, don't. Natasha will have his hide. ]

[ Gesturing to her tumbler, ]

Another finger?

[mucked]

[ in one gentle gesture, she lays her hand across the top of her glass. ]

One was probably enough. I can't say whether it's the wide wide cosmos or merely my distance from the war, but my constitution isn't precisely what it once was.

[ a little bit of a white lie never hurt anyone. peggy doesn't feel comfortable enough to drink more then a splash with him. but feels comfortable enough (at least) to draw attention to that discomfort. it's a sort of paradox, where one doesn't fear the admission of their own unease.

or then again maybe it's true. war always seemed to bring out the best bottles of brandy and whiskey and gin. canteens of the stuff, 'round the officer's club. or 'round the fire. and back in manhattan it's difficult to behave the way she once did. for months, she went uninvited alongside the men in the office when they went for their end-of-day drink. ]

[redactions]

[ A white lie, or just her usual polite way of saying no. He shrugs, and closes the bottle to put it away, setting their tumblers aside. ]

Maybe it's both, eh?

[mucked]

Both. [ she concedes. ] Or else some point between the two.

[ if she smiles, now, then it's out of sheer gratitude that he should let her get away with her fib. had he always possessed such depth of charm? peggy plumbs the depths of her memories -- trying to uncover anything besides the (entertainingly) blunt and crass young man who'd stood like such a counterpoint to steve rogers.

had the shield tempered him? she wonders. or else assumes he'd always housed some quality she'd failed to assess properly from the outset. and peggy felt the sting of that mistake, now. ]

The Starstruck, by the by. My ship. If you have need to hail me. [ a bit of information as as a prologue to her inevitable farewell. ]

[redactions]

[ Her fib isn't so different from any of Steve's, when it comes down to it, nor any of the ones they told themselves in the war when they needed to carry on. ]

I'll call.

[ Hopefully not in an emergency. He doesn't follow her to the door just yet, instead, lingers in the empty space in the room, haunting it. ]

He's on the ship, if you want to say hello. Get him used to you being around.

[mucked]

-- You make him sound like a puppy.

[ 'get him used to you being around,' indeed. but peggy pauses with her fingers on the doorway. by some miracle, the dark red varnish on her nails is but barely chipped -- and the colour stands out in stark contrast against the wall.

she swallows her unease. she lets the scotch do the talking: ] Alright. Furnish him and me with an introduction. There's no profit found in putting it off.

[ procrastination never looked good on her, anyway. she turns away from the door. ]

[redactions]

[ He chortles. ]

A puppy that could kill you with one claw, maybe.

[ He cares for the man, he does, but in the end they don't know the extent of the programming or what might set it off. Jim doesn't want to say it, but the Winter Soldier is dangerous. Natasha has physical wounds that testify to that. ]

[ He picks up his comms and dials, setting it to audio. ]

Hey, buddy. Could you come to my office? You have a visitor.

[reconstitution]

[ It's not uncommon for Jim to call him, but he's immediately suspicious that he has a visitor. He's not expecting anyone. ...Of course he's had his fair share of people just showing up. ]

You're sure? [ Of course he is- when has Jim ever lied? He lets out a quiet sigh. ] On my way.

[ He tucks the communicator away and makes his way from the cargo bay to Jim's office. Out of habit, he hesitates outside of the door before sliding into the room. His eyes immediately land on Peggy, and he's not sure what to say. ]

You came. [ Smooth, Winter. ]

[mucked]

-- And so did you.

[ she isn't exactly a statue. but she's something near to it: standing still at the edge of the captain's desk, one palm flat upon its surface while the other folds against her hip. she'd long since retreated from the doorway and after quiet exchanges with barnes number one, she preps herself to barnes number two.

letting her gaze shift from one to the other is...bewildering, to say the least. thank heavens for the 'scotch' and the warm rush it provides her veins. her attention ducks, and she seems to be examining the recent arrival for any signs or symptoms of her old friend. but bloody hell, he looks...

different. ] I hope my visit hasn't dragged you away from any sort of vital work o-or...what have you.

[ smooth, carter. ]

[redactions]

[ You are both going to be the death of him. Jim waves airily for Peggy to sit, but when Winter steps forward he rests his hand on his arm, leans in, and whispers, ]

« She might be a soldier, but she's a dame. Operating parameters: don't sit until after she does, pull out the chair if you're the one closest to it. Always stand when she enters the room and if she's leaving, walk her to the door, and make sure you open it for her unless she tells you not to.​ I already gave her something to drink, but you should offer. The bottles are in the cupboard. She outranks you, so you walk on her left side if you go anywhere with her. Acknowledged? ​»

[reconstitution]

[ He nods as he listens, his eyes flicking between Peggy and Jim, not sure where to keep his attention. He can't help but linger on Peggy, his brow furrowed. Something is off, and Winter isn't sure exactly what it is. It's nagging at him.

Once Jim is finished speaking, he turns his head to look at him. ]

« Acknowledged. ​»

[mucked]

[ she betrays nothing of her comprehension. after all, neither of them had any reason to read her personnel file. peggy might have read a dossier on the man before he 'died', and signed off on the report afterwards. but apart from what crumbs she'd allowed the commandos, her own depth of experience had been played close to the chest.

so she returns to her chair -- and glances askance as though she isn't reading lips and understanding russian. operating parameters, hm? the contents of such orders could be dealt with at a later date, for now she merely gleaned what intel she could. and appeared innocent throughout. ]

Come now -- [ a crooked almost-smile ] -- it isn't polite to whisper so in mixed company, is it?

[ but her ribbing is good natured. intended to begin tapping away at the room's tension. ]