driftfleet | ✮ ( 001 ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ / ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ )

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✮ ( 001 ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ / ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ )

I knew I should have looked up 'reality shows' a few months back.

[ The man who appears on the screen is currently looking at what seems to be a little notepad before adding the word 'space' next to the words 'reality tv'. Really, he could have done this space setting if it included an inter-galactic war or helping planets in peril.

But in all honesty, Steve Rogers: entertainer has never been his career choice and it's not his forte, either. At least now the whole thing doesn't include singing and girls in scandalously short skirts. ]

My name is Steve Rogers, currently aboard the SS Pathstone. I've done a little bit of reading while aboard the Marsiva. I understand there are those who are trying to help the people on the moon we're visiting, if there is anything you need, I'd do whatever I can do to help.

[ you might catch a glimmer of red and blue and silver just behind him. A wink as the light hits metal ]

The same goes for going home. I imagine people have already looked into ways for us to leave this place. No one should be taken anywhere against their will. I'd like to hear about the information you have managed to collect and I'll do everything I can to make sure everyone will be able to go home safely.

[ you all get a little smile. he's so awkward at these things, can you tell by now. ]

I heard I've missed quite a party.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ natasha had implored steve time and time again to do the unthinkable and get himself a sort of life going. he mostly tried to gently slide away from the suggestion of why won't you ask her out? out of a need to avoid having to explain to natasha that the whole matter of building a life and settling down wasn't for him, not anymore, anyway.

captain America, god's righteous man, pretending you can live without war, rings through his head in ultron's voice and he walks to the galley to chase it away. a moment later he looks at her again, his first love and she would probably be his last, too because seeing her now, the notion of seeing her again is overwhelming to the point that loving her will probably be his undoing. ]

Fury. He used to be the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. It kinda grew on us.

[ ah, yes. one of her eventual successors. peggy knows the name, if not the man -- although she's certainly not yet even begun to imagine what shield might be. her devotion (to varying degrees) remains with the ssr, however much it might be a dinosaur in the post-war era.

peggy puts a small sugar dish on the table, alongside a squat bottle of milk. peggy herself only takes milk in her tea, having long ago eschewed sugar during rationing. but the option is there -- and it occurs to her, almost with a pang, that she doesn't know how he takes his tea. ]

SHIELD. [ her breath catches. jim had suggested to her that the agency had not come across that name by accident -- and that was when she first started to realize her impact on the future. ] I might as well come out and say it; you need not speak gently about what happened to SHIELD. I know all about Zola. I know all about HYDRA's infiltration. I've...I've been well-warned.

[ curt, and almost sour in the way she speaks of things she hasn't yet determined how to avoid. ]

Edited 2016-05-14 11:53 (UTC)

[ he sighs a bit. would he have told her? steve's first instinct is to spare her the future, especially when it cannot be changed, especially since he would have preferred her not to go through the turmoil he had when he and Natasha found zola, had discovered what was hidden inside SHIELD, who they've been working for, in a manner.

he would have spared her, no doubt. ]

None of us could have known.

I know now.

[ stiff -- and assured. despite having 'returned' home to live more of her life, and having remembered none of what had passed here within the fleet, peggy can't shake loose the feeling that she might be able to put her knowledge to use. furthermore, that she might be able to spare james barnes the worst of his deterioration.

she piles it all onto her shoulders -- and, in some moments, it shows. she is weighed down by a future she's far off from living.

but for now, she tries to hide her burden. instead, peggy pours them a pair of steaming cups of tea. only then does she take a seat at the galley table. ]

The question is whether that knowledge can ever be acted upon.

[ and steve sees it, sees the moment it comes to surface. the contrast between past and future and present, something he knows well and while he has been giving her the space he knows she needs, he closes it now, kneels at the side of her seat instead of taking the seat next to her and reaching for her hand. ]

if it can, I know there is no better to do it. if it can't - Peggy, this isn't your doing. It isn't your doing now and it'll never be that. Never.

[ he sees her suddenly, years from now, smiling at him, you saved the world. We rather... mucked it up. ]

It'll never be that.

[ I won't let it, he wants to say. he'll never let her heritage be anything but protection and goodness. ]

[ he kneels so swiftly -- so suddenly -- that she's almost taken aback. peggy clears her throat, and draws her ankles beneath the chair. but she puts her hand immediately into steve's, pleased to have that pressure against her palm as the tea turns fragrant. it fills her nostrils. it smells better than it's ever smelled before. ]

Maybe. Maybe not. I don't think either of us have the right to decide that, yet. [ too much hangs in the balance of this place, and what it can offer them in the way for foreknowledge.

her opposite hand raises from her lap. tenderly, she touches her fingertips to his jaw -- tracing the line of his chin with her thumb. he is so bloody earnest, and well-meaning. blinded, she supposes, to her craggier flaws. most of them only began to truly expose themselves after the war. she'd not transitioned well to peacetime.

then again, she doubts he did either. ]

But it's awfully kind of you to say all the same. Downright charming. Maybe there's hope for you yet.

Edited 2016-05-14 13:56 (UTC)

Peggy, I fought an army of aliens and then an army of robots. You went against commands to land me in enemy's territory in the middle of the war, I think you and I at least deserve the right to decide on that.

[ said with a little smile. he had sacrificed a lot, she had done the same and both of them wouldn't do well in peacetime as they have shaped themselves in times of war. it's a good thing that this meeting is accompanied by kidnapping and a poisoned moon, otherwise it'd almost be normal and they threw normal out of the window a long time ago.

charming, she says and he huffs a chuckle ]

You mean I might yet learn how to speak to a woman?

I'll thank Agent Romanoff should I ever see her again, shall I?

[ peggy teases, convinced that it's easier to needle and rib than it is to melt nearer, touch more, and give way to the mounting sentimentality in her stomach. after all, they will always have an audience. the kiss itself might net them both some extra credits in their account, but there's no need to air their entire whirlwind romance to a galaxy of viewers.

she inhales so deeply her shoulders seem to lift. he must have questions, peg decides. but she can't bring herself to steer things back to business quite so quickly. not with him still taking a knee, and her so happy to relearn the well-shaved planes of his face with small, gentle sweeps of her fingertips. ]

[ it might be comical, all that comes later, the arching of an eyebrow, the slightly startled ( very startled expression that makes its way to his face as Natasha's name is thrown in regard to women and -

and then the clearing of a throat. ]

-- I'll take that tea now.

[ he knew these two together would spell trouble. a moment later, he's sitting beside her, still oddly comical holding his cup.

next subject, then. ]

[ peggy's laughter is low, melodious, and generously given. it steals upon her naturally, and in a fashion that simply doesn't occur on a run-of-the-mill day upon the starstruck. it isn't that she leads an unhappy life aboard the ship, but she's a muted sort of crew-mate. she saves her smiles for genuine moments, and there are few more genuine than this one. as strategically as she mentions natasha's name, she knows better than to think...

well. the last time steve had been present, he'd given her no cause to suspect. and even if he had, she'd long ago resolved that she could not blame him. they both had their lives to live.

as steve takes his seat, she relaxes. rubbing her palms together as if she might hoard the heat of his hand between her own. peg pours a dash of milk into her cup, and stirs it with a clink.

she clears her throat: ] Are you liking the Pathstone?

[ he wants to protest about this not being funny but she laughs and the sound is warmer than the tea she made and e can't bring himself to mind, not really. he looks down his own cup, smiling a bit; he is a coffee man but this is so very like Peggy, it's so wonderfully familiar. ]

I haven't spent much time there. I've spent most of time on the moon or visiting the other ships. The bed is alright.

[ he isn't the sort to mind these matters and coming to think about it, perhaps he should know his own assigned ship a bit better ]

[ she knows, of course. he'd have preferred coffee. and it isn't that she doesn't care, but more that she doesn't kowtow. not even to him, although he's the one person in any world for whom she might break her patterns. even now, she feels herself ramping up to a detour from her usual behaviour.

but there is no use in wasting what time they have left. from the moment he stepped onto the starstruck, the timer was turned. the sand started to fall from one half of the hourglass to the other. ]

We have room on the Starstruck. We didn't, not so long ago, but we do now.

[ the offer hovers in the air -- and peggy appears almost sheepish to have offered it. she isn't embarrassed, or shy, but she understands how sudden an offer it is. ] In case you're looking for -- a change.

[ ahem. peggy doesn't take her eyes off his while she takes her first sip of tea. ]

[ he looks at her for a moment, tea forgotten yet again as she forms the question, suggestion, offer. there isn't a matter of thought or discussion regarding his answer. ]

I could do with a change.

[ and then, with a small smile ( he won't dream to show her how happy he is. space audience and all of that ) ]

are we still required the odd 75 push ups?

[ he still remembers boot camp, thank you very much ]

[ as much as she truly would not mind watching steve rogers drop and give her 75 of anything, peggy lets him oh-so-gently off that hook: ] Captain or not, this isn't the army. I make it a point not to require too much of the crew; they never asked for this.

[ arguably, a great many never asked for war either. there are some within the fleet she can depend upon to follow a quick order without question, but for the most part...

it's not her place. ]

We have a fine recreational area set up in the hold. A hanging bag, one of these bizarre futuristic running mills... [ she's had a time trying to adjust to technology, steve. quite a time indeed. ] Once you're part of the crew, it's yours to use. No drills required.

treadmill.

[ said as he sips his tea. he doesn't know that much about pop culture references but these sort of things he got pretty easily. it's not his favorite back home, he would take open air and ground beneath his feet any day but then again, one can't really go jogging on a toxic moon ]

..Maybe it's best I stay clear of the hanging bag.

[ you know what? she doesn't even pause for a moment to wonder why he says what he says. it occurs to her almost instantly, and with a glimmer in her eye: ]

How many minutes, on average, before you break one? [ she sizes him up -- not for the first time, certainly. it's been a long while since she's watched him throw a punch, but if she had to guess... ] Ten minutes, maybe? So long as you weren't fully trying to bust the thing.

Seven.

[ said with a chuckle, he scrunches his face at the tea before adding another sugar. there are things about Peggy he will never understand and this has to be one of them. ]

The treadmill should be safe.

And doubtless you'd do well to make use of the games down on the moon while we're still at port. [ she leans back, relaxing into the casual note of the conversation. it may be a few minutes more before she tries to drag them back into serious shop talk. there's barnes to discuss, still, but she won't be rushing it. ]

There's a funny little game with guns and paint. I enjoyed it more than I should often like to admit.

Guns and - paint?

[ he looks at her for a moment with a smile he clearly tries to keep at bay. for all that is fierce and a force of nature, she is always so pretty and prim and proper. the thought of her covered in paint is perhaps a bit funny and very, very endearing. ]

And paint. [ she echoes, almost a little too insistent when she sees the smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. honestly, steve. ] I did well for myself, I'll have you know. When I played.

I'm certain you did.

[ but he has to chuckle just a little because goodness gracious, peggy carter covered with paint, isn't that an image he is going to carry with him for a long, long, long time. ]

was it - various colors or - ?

Each side had a colour. As in -- mine might shoot yellow, but the opposing force shoots blue. [ ... ] It's how they solve all manner of disputes on the moon below. A very safe sort of warfare, if not particularly tidy.

That's a - creative solution, one I hope many people will use in the future.

[ but it's sweet, how serious she seems when she explains it, coupled with the image of her that lingers in his mind. badass, mind you, but usually on heels. ]

for their -

[ not laughing. ]

disputes.

[ steve! rogers! peggy puffs herself up and sets the tea mug back onto the table. ]

Laugh, Captain. If you're going to laugh, then laugh. Hold it in any longer and I fear you'll turn purple.

[ oh so very sour. ]

[ it's really the puffing that does that and he laughs, openly and free and it's a first time in a long time but he'll be quick to appease her. prim and proper or not, he won't risk vexing Peggy Carter, he still has a head on his shoulders and that's where he wants it to stay, thank you. ]

It's simply that you - even in the war you were so -

[ what is a word that would be appropriate ]

clean.

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