driftfleet | April System Mingle

[ -- oh, she catches it. and part of her rebels, wondering whether that grin might be had at her expense. but she swallows at least the lion's share of her pride. ]

It was rather ridiculous, wasn't it? [ how humiliating. she's allowed the fight with steve to put her on the back foot; her usual rational mindset gone a-kilter. ] I do assure you I usually have a better sartorial eye than that.

To be fair, so is a great deal of the fashion around here. [He's at least willing to spare her dignity to that degree. Rip's kind like that.] And you're working with a rather, ah, shall we say severe limitation, in terms of size.

[He's still of the mindset that she might have better luck looking for high-end children's wear--but he won't push the point. Especially considering that the mark-up would likely be insane, given how much they priced up the atrocious shirt in question.]

I'm assuming that your partner isn't keen to advertise his condition to anyone? Since otherwise, you might just ask the Fleet if someone had a few things he could borrow.

[ partner. her nose crinkles -- but not unhappily -- before she continues: ]

Personally, I don't think the condition much matters. [ the serum and its effects certainly comes with advantages, but that's never been the part of him she's loved best. not really. ] But, I'll admit, I'm not fond of addressing the network about someone else's business. Seems a bit crass.

[ if she wants to enjoy her privacy, then she ought to let others enjoy theirs. to a point. ]

[He raises an eyebrow at her expression, but since Peggy doesn't correct him? Partner it will remain.]

You don't. [The implication being that this Steve person does. And in the end, it all amounts to the same thing: asking the Fleet is out.]

In that case, I'm not sure what other solution you have beyond continuing to try your luck in the stores here, I'm afraid.

He's spent most of his life at his current stature -- that's no secret. [ it's complicated. that much, at least, is obvious when she worries her bottom lip a moment. warring with herself whether she ought to say more or say less. ] It's damn well public record back home.

[Yes, Rip has picked up on the complicated part by this point. But Peggy's reluctance is clear enough in her hesitation. Rip's curious, but not so much that he'll push the point. She's free to tell him as much or as little as she likes.]

You're rather far from home, however. [But regardless of how detailed she wants to be, Rip can piece together a few things himself.] And given your predicament, his current state would seem to be an anomaly rather than the norm.

[ far, but not far enough. plenty, it seems, still recognized the name captain america. peggy gives her head a little shake. ]

Oh, certainly. A damned inconvenient anomaly. Usually, Steve's the very picture of a rather unique military experiment -- the effects of which shouldn't be reversible. [ again, all a matter of public record and common enough knowledge even in the fleet. although peggy wouldn't ordinarily say this much -- perhaps it's the fight or perhaps it's the flood-gates opened by her earlier admission of importance. ]

And yet the Atroma have found a way.

They've made him vulnerable.

[Rip knows nothing about Captain America beyond what this conversation with Peggy offers, wouldn't recognize the name even if she told him the rather unique moniker. Even so, it's not so far a leap in logic: a military would seek to enhance their own soldiers, and given Peggy's description, that's likely what's been done to Steve. From there the steps are easy enough to follow, given what's already been established.

And beyond that? Rip's got some experience when it comes to having someone else suddenly tear away what should be certain, only to leave him feeling trapped.]

You did say it was meant to be temporary, at least. [Small comfort, perhaps, but it's about all Rip has to offer.]

[ vulnerable. it's true, of course. she knows the laundry list of ailments and compromising circumstances surrounding steve rogers and his pre-serum body. heaven knows whether he would have seen the end of the war in or out of service, given the state of him. and yet she can't quite stomach the notion all the same. steve? vulnerable? hah! the scrappy brooklyn lad who'd fought in every alley and tossed himself on a dummy grenade on his first day of boot camp. ]

At least. [ she echoes, then turns on a heel. ] Sod shopping. Let's get that tea -- this is a problem that can wait a few hours to be solved.

[ she doesn't even know if they'll be talking again in a few hours. their last 'fight' lasted months. ]

[Rip stops short, not expecting the sudden change of direction. Still, he only needs a few moments to follow after her, his head ducking down in a brief nod.]

Well, I'd hardly be a proper countryman if I said no to tea. [Though it's not the beverage that motivates him to go with her now.

Not entirely.

...Although it is a nice benefit.]

Hampstead, by the way. Although I haven't actually lived there in years.

[ countrymen, after all. and she provides her origin point more as a means of gleaning his. this introduces a jaunty, almost professional tone to the conversation as they walk through the streets -- peggy's got one of the starstruck's shuttles berthed not far from here. ]

[He grins in faint amusement at that; while the true distance between them spans centuries and likely universes, looking at a map would show their homes as being rather close to one another.]

Whitechapel, and I would have to say the same. [She already knows he was a captain of a futuristic ship, so the detail is safe enough to point out. He slips his hands into his pockets while they walk, simply by habit.] What's kept you away from home, then? Aside from the obvious, of course.

[You know. Being kidnapped to feature in an intergalactic television show.]

[ whitechapel! peggy indulges in a smile -- and she's about to explain to rip that although she was born in hampstead, she attended school in lambeth. much, much closer to whitechapel. but this small connection, centuries apart, gets swept away by his follow-up question. ]

I -- ah, moved to America. After the war. [ a slight wince, she doesn't want to come across as patronizing but she can't just assume a man from so far in the future will conveniently remember what must seem like ancient history: time traveller or not. ] The one I hear they've taken to calling the Second World War.

[Ah, has he continued too soon? In truth Rip doesn't expect the smile, the spark of recognition, and it's there and gone as quickly as he asks his own question. It's a connection they'll have to return to, clearly, as his prompt doesn't seem to offer quite the same level of delight for her.]

Yes, you mentioned you were from 1947. [And though she doesn't know, Peggy need not clarify quite so much with him as she might think--he is from the future, yes, but Rip has in fact spent time in Europe during that very same war.] But you as an expat is a bit harder to see. Something work related?

[It seems the most fitting option for her--unless the mysterious Steve turns out to be not only from her time, but also an American.]

[ now, this is tricky. the old lie won't work any longer: she's gone so far as to drop the words military and experiment together. and no one will believe that she hopped the pond just to take up a job with the telephone company.

peggy frowns, wrestling with a temptation to tell the truth and an old habit to do anything but. ] I suppose you could call it that. I served -- [ in whatever capacity a woman can serve in the war, and she lets him fill in those blanks for himself. banking on his underestimation. ] And in serving, I met all manner of Americans. After it was all over, it felt only natural to want a change of pace.

[ after all, parts of london had felt nigh-gutted. ]

[She might have had better luck with that if Rip didn't remember their prior conversation quite so well. "Banking on his underestimation" might not prove the best course, considering she'd gotten quite miffed at him for just that already.

Still. Rip knows she's skirting the truth, but that doesn't mean he's necessarily going to call her on it. ~~Not before he's gotten his tea, damnit.~~ Yet he can't quite help himself either.]

You know, putting it like that, one might think that you were hoping one of those Americans could provide that "change of pace." [Words Rip actually manages to say with a straight face, despite the fact that he's certain Peggy will be less than pleased with that particular perspective.]

[ a snort -- a sigh. ]

I didn't follow a man back across the pond, if that's what you're implying. [ although she did do exactly that, in a sense. just she'd been left tracing his memory to a city that seemed to live and breathe him at every turn. she'd committed herself to grief when she'd made that choice and took that leap.

not that others didn't do exactly that: war brides by the hundreds. she can sympathize with their aspirations and their dreams. ]

Oh, I wouldn't dare, Miss Carter.

[Rather, Rip might pity the fool who insisted on the notion. While certainly doing incredible things for love has an admirable side, in Peggy's era such moves were often seen as the only valid way a woman could advance in life.

And Peggy has not struck him as someone who abides by such expectations in the least.]

I believe you're far too ambitious for something so--expected of a woman in your time.

Opportunity knocked, Mister Hunter. And in the wake of the war, I couldn't afford not to follow.

[ she turns a corner -- looking askance to be certain he was keeping pace. ] Besides, I'll cop to a general admiration of the American spirit. New York's a lovely city. Once you get used to the smell.

Fair enough.

[He manages to stay beside her in spite of the sharp turn--the benefit of a longer stride. The mention of the American spirit earns a moment of mirth from Rip: he's seen and felt the same, though in a far different setting than mid-twentieth century New York.]

Such can be said of a great many things, if you stop and think about it. [Calvert had a rather pungent smell as well--but what else can be expected from a town in the Old West?]

[ she nods -- agreeable enough, except: ] California can bugger right off, however. Too bloody hot.

[ and everyone eats avocados :c so weird. ]

[Again, Rip huffs out a quiet sound that's almost a laugh.]

That does take a fair deal more getting used to, yes. [Even thinking himself an American, "Phil" never had much tolerance for the heat--and yet for the sake of his movie, continued to push himself. It's still rather strange to think back on that time, and the memories that weren't quite his.] And it's an even greater distance from home. Another opportunity, I'll take it?

[ time, she supposes, to thread a sliver of truth into the mix: ] A friend, actually. At times it works to one's benefit to have made nice with the sort of person who owns their own private jet and a film lot just outside Los Angeles.

[ -- not that she likes movies. not that she even flew there on one of stark's planes. but 'i've got a filthy rich friend' is easier to say than 'i work for an intelligence agency'. ]

I flew out there for a visit. Rather wish I hadn't; it seems I wasn't missing much.

--I can see where it would. [Speaking of things that his poor alter-ego would have killed for. Even before the inflation that would plague the later years of the twentieth century and beyond, that's a rather impressive list of things to possess.] One of those Americans you mentioned earlier, I'll take it?

[An inspiration to her--or a provider of resources.

And yet, in the end? Peggy had been unimpressed. Rip raises his eyebrows briefly.] I suppose that would be determined by what you're looking for in such ventures.

-- Not really, no. [ a crinkle of her nose. ] The man in question was never a soldier, but a civilian contractor. A scientist. Although he's got just enough hubris to call himself a futurist, instead.

[ and there's always been room for brilliant minds to advance during the war years. ] American, yes, but in the grand scheme of things our paths don't cross so often. But I am rather fond of the man's butler.

[ then, with a hitch of honesty: ] He's actually here in the Fleet as well. The butler, I mean. Named Edwin Jarvis. Best scones you could ever hope for.

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