open » action

[mucked]

Who: Peggy + you
Broadcast: N/A
Action: Starstruck, Iskaulit
When: All day.

[ as compelling an attraction as the asteroids can be, peggy wakes up on what could have been april 21st and promptly decides that a captain's work is never done. despite a short holiday on one of the less glitzy asteroids, she storms her way back onto the starstruck around midday. she'd have preferred to be back earlier, of course, but a certain stubborn steve rogers had delayed her more than usual this morning.

because, you see, today is peggy carter's birthday. and up until recently, she'd thought this particular piece of sensitive intel might have remained under wraps. certainly, she's never announced it to the fleet (not had it announced for her) but over the last year there'd been an influx of individuals who might otherwise be privy to that sacred knowledge.

and so surviving the day becomes a little trickier. her first precaution is to not even address the network -- indeed, she hasn't got her device with her at all. so if some friend or ally does try and contact peggy, they may be forced to seek her out in person instead. after all, it's rare that she should persist with so much radio silence. visitors and crew on the starstruck will find her in her quarters trying very hard to dodge the likes of both steve rogers and edwin jarvis. and trying to busy herself with 'paperwork', though closer inspections might prove she's doing little more than working on a few hobby ciphers. and let's not forget the copious trips to the kitchen for tea, of course.

for visitors and crew: it seems steve's left the odd 'hint' and trinket around the ship. flowers here, candles there, and there's at least one cake chilling in the kitchen. perhaps more. when asked about it, the captain feigns innocence.

later, when that diversion fails, she heads to the iskaulit. first to the firing range, where she squeezes off just enough shots to counterbalance the creeping sensation of domesticity. and that done, she stops by the space bar for a drink of whatever-the-devil most resembles whiskey. ]

Comments

[mucked]

Clearly, I've left you with too much time on your hands. [ alright, then. she takes his beer bottle and tilts it back -- finishing it in one go. ] It's all my fault.

[pulcher]

[ he watches her with a rather fond smile. ]

Yeah, look where it got you.

[ on the receiving end of birthday gifts. ]

Gonna have to be more careful next year.

[ and he would have to be far more creative. ]

[mucked]

[ next year. she'd never own up to the butterflies in her stomach those two words just inspired. instead, she pushes out her chair and waits for him to follow. ]

I'll be certain to start thinking up a project about mid-March.

[pulcher]

Just don't make me catalog the preserves again. Last time it took five days.

[ and they were all dull. he paid his dues on that front. ]

Five days of shuffling through space-peaches.

[ if by chance, his fingers brush against hers as he walks to her chance. well. purely accidental. ]

[mucked]

[ her smallest finger snags his. then, over the following few heartbeats, she gives in to holding his hand entirely. happy birthday, indeed. ]

It will be a yearly chore, you realize.

[pulcher]

Oh, come on, Peggy.

[ fingers laced, he takes to brushing a thumb over her knuckles even as he complains: ]

We're labeling them on the go these days.

[mucked]

Anything to keep you tied up and busy through each and every spring, darling.

[ the caress across the back of her hand comes with a certain thrill -- it's such a little thing, really, but it's so public. so normal. ]

[pulcher]

Each and every one?

[ it's a sweet notion, this entire exchange is sweet and daring, speaking of something like that. A future. A bit more privacy and he would kiss her. Hell, he almost does so there and then.

Instead, he seems to walk a little quicker, as if they're in a bit of a rush. ]

Guess I better get used to peaches.

[mucked]

[ she laughs -- low and quiet -- when she realizes he's rushing his way back to the iskaulit's shuttle bay. the way he wears his enthusiasm on his sleeve has always been a shining point in his character. a point of considerable pull and attraction. ]

Or start putting up some of your garden's yield in jars. Add to our variety.

[pulcher]

I'm going to label those in advance -

[ maybe. Probably. Truth is, he could care less about gardening and berry preserves at the moment. ]

Save us some work later on.

[mucked]

So diligent. [ they clear the bar and find themselves strolling down one of the quieter halls on the iskaulit. ] Good to know; it'll give me plenty of time to think up some alternative make-busy projects for next year.

[pulcher]

It's not going to work, you know.

[ just saying. ]

But I'll be happy to help, either way.

[ at least it'll be a productive battle of wills. ]

[mucked]

You should know better than to issue so cut and dry a challenge, my darling.

[ -- is this flirting? this is flirting. ]

[pulcher]

I do know.

[ theoretically. but on the whole - ]

It's exactly why I do it anyway.

[mucked]

[ she shifts from holding his hand to hooking her elbow with his. arm in arm, then, like a proper couple. she folds the fingers of her opposite hand over his arm: a firm, affectionate grip.

comfortable, despite the difference in their heights. ] Because you're a sucker for punishment, you are.

[pulcher]

Me?

[ he tugs on her arm. It won't shift her balance, not with him being this small but it'll be enough to snag attention, to draw her arm nearer. ]

You got it all wrong.

[mucked]

No? [ with a great show of mercy and submission, she allows herself to be 'pulled' off balance -- leaning gently on his arm as though he'd hauled her there himself. ] Tell me, then. Elucidate, then, exactly why you're so eager in your challenges.

[pulcher]

[ he considers for a moment, all play really, he knew the answer before she even asked. a funny conversation to have in the middle of the hall, casual and polite, as if they're discussing tomorrow's dinner arrangement or the state of the weaponry, a sharp contrast to its content. ]

It's not really the punishment, mostly just you.

[mucked]

The joke, darling, [ she leans in to kiss the edge of his forehead, mussing his hair in the process, ] is that I am the punishment.

[pulcher]

What a thing to say on your birthday.

[ he can't really decide which is the bigger risk, being caught in the middle of this affectionate moment in the middle hall or someone overhearing the word birthday.. ]

Not even close.

[mucked]

Oh, quiet.

[ that kiss transforms into a light swat on his shoulder. it seems that both are suddenly culpable. no matter, peggy's mood shifts smoothly and she hauls him along to the shuttle bay.

this time, she's 'piloting'. ]

[pulcher]

Hold on.

[ there are times when he can expect those shifts, tranquil waters changing by what feels like a sudden wave of something else. other times, she catches him entirely off guard, affection turns to scolding turns to something else he can't yet place.

it's an always-changing puzzle to solve. ]

You know, they say you shouldn't drink and drive.

[ just saying. ]

[mucked]

For shame. [ a beat, but perhaps the whiskey is worming its way through her system. peggy certainly seems a little more sprightly. ] I could kiss whoever invented auto-pilot.

[ she flicks a button and sits back, lounging in the seat. ] Unless it's Howard. Good Lord.

[pulcher]

[ he remembers this sort of energy. last he'd seen it, it was New Year's Eve and admittedly, Steve doesn't remember a whole lot from that night. Sometime after midnight and a kiss stolen at the corners of the hall, he was far more intoxicated than she was.

( not a big surprise, he can't imagine what winn and hank have done to make that damned thing so strong ). ]

I wouldn't be surprised if it is and I don't think you can back out from statements like this just because it's Stark.

[ times have changed; once, steve felt a pang of something selfishly annoyed, jealous of howard stark. that is long gone.

getting shot at would do that, as it turns out. ]

[mucked]

Heavens, no. I refuse. [ her nose crinkles in disgust -- but mirth remains, possibly because steve manages to swerve the old reaction and replace it with something utterly playful. endearing. ] Not until he shears off that caterpillar on his lip.