driftfleet | did somebody say mingle

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. ]

-- 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.

Don't mention it.

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

[ Gesturing to her tumbler, ]

Another finger?

[ 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. ]

[ 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?

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. ]

Edited 2015-09-23 04:19 (UTC)

[ 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.

-- 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. ]

[ 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.

[ 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. ]

-- 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. ]

[ 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? »

Edited 2015-09-23 05:47 (UTC)

[ 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. »

[ 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. ]

Sorry.

[ He gives her a crooked, earnest smile, and moves back, lets Winter get a sense of the space in the room with both of them in it. ]

It was important.

Edited (icon..) 2015-09-23 15:55 (UTC)

[ The office is definitely more cramped with three of them in it, and he stays where he is to keep the distance. His gaze falls back to Peggy and he looks her up and down, brow creasing. ]

You were wearing red before...weren't you?

[ The image is almost clear- only the faintest hint of a fog. A dimly lit room full of muffled celebration, and one figure walking through the entryway- the distinct click of heels echoing loudly.

Then what are we waiting for?
The right dance partner. ]

[ her mask isn't so perfect. the memory -- conjured near-violently to mind -- thuds into her like a bag of bricks. like mortar shells. peggy swallows a great many reactions, and tries to hold tightly onto grace. onto dignity. onto duty.

she's here to say hello and to lay groundwork, not to shut off an avenue the other barnes so clearly wishes for her to open. ]

Probably. [ every wac and wrac and nurse and wraf went bananas over that colour: a vital red painted on every lip and fingernail like a blood-smear of life against an olive drab world. reaffirming.

and she can remember the very dress. she can remember the smell of cigarette smoke wafting 'round the pub. and she can remember the look in steve's eyes, and the hopeful too-smooth attempt made by this man. or the other man. or both of them, once upon a time. before she knew him as the good soldier he was. ] Red's my colour. Red was every woman's colour, back then.

[ they circle 'round the night. pace its outer edges. hesitant, she looks at the captain and wonders whether he knows the night as well. how many strings tie them all together? ]

[ She looks at Jim and he has eyes only for his alternate, expression caught in some mixture of horrified fascination and open wonder. This is the first indication he's given that he remembers — anything. ]

Go on, you're on the right track. Isn't he?

[ He smiles encouragingly, hoping she'll follow suit. ]

[ He shakes his head as if trying to dislodge the memory. It won't budge any further than it already has.

Winter considers what he does have of it, though. The musty bar, the muted color and echoing laughter. The disappointment sitting in his gut, and the thrill. It's frustrating not knowing the context of the memory, and nothing else before or after will come. ]

[ He looks from Jim and looks a bit relieved, but looks back at Peggy for approval. ]

[ had she expected any of this? no, not at all. peggy had prepared herself for a tense meeting and maybe some ambiguous phrases. but she'd not anticipated both men looking at her with such a weighty need for acknowledgement. it almost (almost!) made her wish she had something a little less anti-climactic to say. ]

He is. [ on the right track. she can't help herself -- she rises once again from her chair and (hands folded stiffly in front of her) addresses 'winter'. ] You are. I have half-a-mind to guess you're thinking of the first night we met. You and I.

[ her smile ghosts at the corner of her lips. she forces herself to relive that evening in words, carefully editing steve out of the narrative because she isn't certain how to broach his name with this one. ]

Do you remember asking me to dance?

[ it all ends with rejection -- but they'd been adults then. a little rejection meant nothing in the face of oncoming friendship. ]

[ He can't help the tenseness as she stands up, but he relaxes shortly after. His shoulders drop as she talks, and her smile is disarming. ]

You were waiting for someone else. The right dance partner, you said..

[ He just can't think of who it was- they were probably in that same bar, though he can't bring up who. ]

[ -- she'd circumnavigated steve's name. side-stepped it, she'd thought. but here it surfaces again in the murky marginalia of their conversation. a touch baleful, she slides her attention from one barnes to the other. from the barnes who knows to the barnes who once-knew. and it's only the lost-and-loose tone in the winter soldier's voice that raises her up out of selfish stoicism. ]

It seems that's all I ever do. [ wait. agonize. but saying so sells herself short, because she's done a great deal more than merely wait. peggy's heels shift on the office floor. ] Do you recall the Commandos? They were there -- in the background, so to speak. I spent some time liaising with them.

[ and you, but she swallows that friendly addition. she shouldn't push her friendship on a man who can't remember it. small steps. little leaps. ]

[ He shifts his gaze to the wall directly between Jim and Peggy, though he doesn't seem to be paying much attention to it. Eyes darting back and forth as he accesses the memory, unblinking for the moment.

Winter's brow furrows, then he chances a look toward Peggy, disappointed. He blinks, then shakes his head, now certain of his lacking. ]

Sorry. There's nothing.

[ He looks back to the door. ]

Just you.

Well. [ a little stiff. a lot unsure. ] That's not something that needs apologizing for. Not really.

[ -- she's at a loss, but she doesn't want to be unsporting. so she tries: ] I am honoured, Mister Winter. Honoured to be remembered. You and I, we...

[ a slow shrug. ] I take it our chronologies are alike. [ as opposed to jim, who stands like a sign-post of a world just beyond their reach. ]

[ He shakes his head; Winter knows that this minute of memory isn't spectacular. Not like it should be, but it's better than absolutely nothing.

He offers her a gentle nod, looking back to her again. ]

Alike to a point. [ There is no telling just how similar their paths are at this point. The important part is that she was definitely someone that he knew at one point.

Maybe she can tell him more about who he should be. ]

(no subject)

redactions - 2015-09-30 06:15 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

mucked - 2015-10-01 15:05 (UTC) - Expand