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]

No? [ she eyes him, careful. ] You're not in the least bit curious?

[pulcher]

[ there are certain baits that are hidden and subtle, others are as clear as day. with peggy, steve seems to bite regardless.

oh no. ]

Well, I am now.

[ it's a problem when one is terrible at lying. he could say he isn't, in fact, the least bit curious and it'll be as believable as if he were telling her the sky is purple. ]

[mucked]

[ she laughs. that went easier than she thought it would -- but now she wants to draw out the suspense. ]

I knew it. [ peggy slides a heel aside to check the instruments on the dash. ] For one, I've made my peace with those shirts that are two sizes too small.

[pulcher]

[ he rolls his eyes. har har. ]

It's Romanoff.

[ and that really explains it all, he figures. There isn't a more specific way to explain to consequences of becoming close friends with the usually formidable black widow - a woman who seems to think she knows everything better than him when it comes to modern things. ]

I don't really buy any. She thinks what I usually go for is too old.

[ she's not wrong. ]

[mucked]

I suppose I ought to thank her, sometime.

[ -- that's the whiskey talking. peggy's not likely to come out and be so brassy with her appreciation in front of anyone else without a great deal of prompting. ]

[pulcher]

Don't go humoring Nat.

[ grumpy. She was never really widow to steve. at the beginning, much like peggy, she was simply ma'am and then natasha and finally, she's nat and when he's long-suffering, much like now, it can also be romanoff. ]

it'll go to her head.

[ she really has to stop buying those. ]

[mucked]

I'll humour her all I want. [ a beat. ] And if I do, maybe she'll tell me some other things men in the 21st century like to wear.

[pulcher]

No other person in the 21st century wears the things she buys.

[ dry. ]

She'd only tell you what she thinks it all should be like.

[ ...and honestly, that's just terrifying. ]

[mucked]

Good enough. [ ... ] She was bang-on with the shirts.

[pulcher]

She's relying on the fact I won't buy any new ones and toss out the ones she keeps getting me.

[ she's right, too. waste not want not, after all. how terrible, to have ones sparse nature turned against them. ]

What else?

[mucked]

-- Sometimes, perhaps, I miss seeing you in a tie.

[ she's referring to his dress uniform. of course, all things begin equal, she'd always been wearing a tie during those moments too. ]

[pulcher]

You're the captain.

[ every bit of his smile is cheeky. ]

Issue a dress code.

[mucked]

For only you? [ her brows shoot up. ] I think that'd have nothing to do with being the captain.

[pulcher]

Make it a first-mate sort of rule. You only have one.

[ he smiles, however. All she'll ever need to do is ask. ]

[mucked]

[ it doesn't occur to her that his playfulness might be somehow amplified by her own. peggy, teetering on drunk, doesn't even think she's being playful. the words simply spill out. ]

Maybe not. Turns out you sound altogether a little too eager for me to wrap you up in rules. [ ... ] I ought to be careful not to be tricked into giving you exactly what you want.

[pulcher]

Is that really so bad?

[ but then again, he's very much biased when it comes to this matter. ]

Can't be the worst outcome.

[mucked]

I suppose not. [ ... ] A few rules could be put to good use. No coffee after 2pm. No stealing the pillows.

[pulcher]

You know, it's always 7 am somewhere in the world.

[ not to mention the galaxy. besides! ]

when did I ever steal your pillows? I'm happy with the one I got.

[ but then again, so very often it's her shoulder he uses, chin resting just above it. ]

[mucked]

And you never fail to inch your way over to my side of the bed.

[ her side. heaven help her, some days she wishes she could build a barricade between them. a firm borderline, urging him not to cross after a certain hour in the morning. ]

[pulcher]

Oh come on.

[ but he's laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. ]

Soon to be a year together and we have sides? Seems a bit pointless, isn't it?.

[mucked]

It could be ten years, darling, and we'll always have sides.

[ so he can sulk about it or be enchanted by the prospect of ten years. she'll not judge him much for either. ]

[pulcher]

Well, can't help it then.

[ though nothing in his voice indicates any measure of regret. ]

I guess your side's just nicer.

[mucked]

I've got it just the way I like it. [ perfect pillow. everything she might want in the middle of the night within reach. revolver and all. ] I don't need you thieving it. Or -- trespassing.

[pulcher]

Only a bit of trespassing.

[ he'd admit to that. ]

And only because you're there. We could switch sides, you know. You'd be more than welcome to trespass anytime you'd like.

[mucked]

Would never work. I can't reach my gun from your side.

[ that's the issue. really. ]