ship mingle: february is for starstruckers.

[mucked]

Who: Crew of the Starstruck
Broadcast: N/A
Action: Y, aboard the ship
When: All month

[ welcome to february. y'all know the drill. ]

Comments

[mucked]

Yes. [ she pats his chest. ] How terribly nice of him. Not self-serving in the least.

[ peggy pulls him back towards the campsite with a tug on his hand. the afternoon sun is still high enough; they don't need to start setting any fires just yet. ]

You know, he made half-a-dozen attempts to get me in front of his cameras. Persistent bugger.

[uprightness]

Maybe a bit self-serving. But Howard always combined selfish and selfless.

[ a contrast but one that made sense to steve, in a way. tony is not very unlike howard, in that regard or perhaps, the image of the son now paints the image of the father. ]

You know I would have paid a lot of money to see that.

[ his smile is easy and far too indulgent for anyone's own good. is he picturing it? he's picturing it. ]

Maybe not a western, though.

[mucked]

Don't be ridiculous. The silver screen is hardly inconspicuous. [ with a huff. ] I don't even much care for cinema. And don't get me started on the parts he wanted me to play...

[uprightness]

Maybe film noir.

[ is he listening to her? he might actually not be listening. ]

That could work. Too bad he went for westerns, that would fit you just fine.

[ mmhmm. ]

[mucked]

Steve. [ a snap of her fingers, and a theatrical wave of her hands in front of his unfocused eyes. ] Try and shake off the fever dream. It's not happening. It will never happen.

[uprightness]

[ he catches her hand with his free one, trapping it in his own. ]

Hey.


[ amused, he tugs on her fingers. ]

No harm in dreaming.

[ if the shoe fits. ]

[mucked]

Oh. Dreaming? Well. [ sharp as you like. her words are all split along the edge of a knife. peggy walks him back only a few feet past their tent -- where the rocky bluff gives way to grass. ] Is that what you dream about, hm? When you're saying things in your sleep?

[ she deflects. ]

[uprightness]

Maybe.

[ he concedes, feeling the ground shift into grass beneath his shoes. there is a rare, comfortable air of serenity. for once, his senses aren't constantly seeking dangers, alert to the sound of footsteps or other such noises. instead, he walks back, steady and careful, gaze settled on her. ]

And I don't talk in my sleep.

[mucked]

Yes, you most certainly do. Talk about all sorts of things, actually.

[ she looks very serious indeed -- expression not wavering at all as she watches him. the grass is inviting and certainly worth sitting on together, but she doesn't want to miss a moment of his reaction.

some lies are worth telling. ]

[uprightness]

Really?

[ there are equal amounts of doubt and interest here. he seems content to humor her for a while and doesn't argue his case. She's joking, she has to be ( he thinks he needs to be very worried indeed, if she isn't. ) but he won't hit this nail over the head just yet. ]

What sort of things?

[mucked]

A few nights ago, in your sleep, you were asking about my old uniform -- didn't realize you were so keen on all that olive drab. [ peggy touches the tip of one finger to his shoulder. she manages not to smirk. ]

Still -- less bewildering than that mumbled question about handcuffs.

[ she almost worries she's overplayed her hand, really. too greedy. ]

[uprightness]

Questions.

[ of course. he shakes his head and settles one hand just above her hip, arching both his eyebrows at her words. ]

You know, I almost fell for the first part.

[ that was rather believable. ]

Should have stopped it right there.

[mucked]

[ now she smiles. it's a little telling, of course, that he admits he might have believed her first claim. and a hand on her hip is an invitation to step closer. ]

Rats. Took it too far. [ she isn't often impish -- but it's happening more and more often during these moments alone with him. ] I ought to have gone with naming one of the tamer items Romanoff left behind in the hotel room.

[uprightness]

Only a bit.

[ too far. it's not entirely true that he doesn't. she has been in his dreams for years now, the nature of it all changed, of course. less what ifs and distant war-time memories and more recent ones.

but he sees no point in telling her that just yet. ]

Might have worked. Especially since you've kept them.

[mucked]

You noticed, hm?

[ peggy asks -- as though she isn't now certain that he must have pushed past silk and lace to get to anything worth packing for this trip. and why shouldn't she have kept it all? good credits were spent on those goods. even the bits or bobs that never get used might eventually be bartered for something else: blindfolds and prophylactics and novelties of all sorts. ]

[uprightness]

Funny that you ask.

[ and so casually, at that. he should have been used to all of this mischief but it is what it is. he eyes her for a moment before counting the facts on the fingers of his left hand. ]

I don't talk in my sleep, if I dream it's about you not all about - items and you did that on purpose.

[mucked]

[ with a light touch, she takes hold of his counting fingers. she holds them firm against her palm -- converting his commitment to the truth into a little burst of affection. peggy's smile doesn't fade. ]

I did that on purpose. [ a frank and honest answer. ] Yes.

[uprightness]

[ he doesn't try to count any more facts, lets her catch his fingers without any further comment. there is little point in protesting when they're chasing each others' touch like this. ]

So actually,

[ if they're being honest. ]

It's really your fault I was late.

[mucked]

Actually -- [ she mimics his tone ] -- you made better time than I thought you might.

[uprightness]

Only to prove a point.

[ and he had partly failed in that. proving a point would be not taking his time at all. instead, curiosity got the better of him.

still - ]

How long did you think I was going to take?

[mucked]

No. [ peggy shakes her head. ] Not telling. You don't get to know everything -- [ as if for any moment of any day she ever made it seem as though that wasn't the case. she's always kept secrets. good ones and bad. ]

Although -- what did you end up bringing along?

[uprightness]

You'll have to find out for yourself.

[ he counters. It's as natural as that, this back and forth, part banter and mostly flirting. Steve doesn't think he can win this but he can at least try to hold his own. ]

If you're not telling, I'm not telling.

[mucked]

Crumbs -- [ such insincere disappointment. his counter-argument doesn't do much to dampen her spirits, it seems. admittedly, not much could. ] Perhaps I ought to guess. Did you pack the red set? [ ... ] The red set's nice.

[ she lifts her chin and digs in her heels. so to speak. ]

[uprightness]

[ some weeks ago this might have been a winning move but this time, determined not to lose so easily, steve steels his nerves and pushes away about two dozen mental pictures ( he rather likes red on her, always has).

He smiles, takes a step closer and presses a short, loving kiss to her jaw. ]

No.

[ no, not that one. No, he's not falling for this ploy. ]

[mucked]

[ heaven help her, he's gone from calling her earlier bluff to raising the stakes. peggy turns her cheek -- as though inviting his kiss. ]

The blue, then. It's a lovely dark blue. [ one might even think the array of colours had been bent towards a theme. ]