driftfleet | ( open ) may-mingling for those struck by stars

I think I can live with that.

[ it's not a challenging exercise but the conversation does make it that much more enjoyable. ]

Done for the day?

[ with work and duties and preparation for whatever it is the ball would bring with it. there's something else ( thankfully, much more pleasant ) to address, after all. ]

Just about. [ she takes a sip. peggy knows this next part is going to be a hard sell, so she needs to scrounge up what charm she has remaining to her. direct her energies into convincing him of her plan. ] All that's left to accomplish, I'm afraid, requires your help. If you'll give it.

[ she allows herself to sound as though she's pleading -- hoping, wanting, wishing. a dangerous trap. she toys with what she knows will be his most gallant desire to see the mission through. ]

[ oh no.

he frowns at her, apparently buying none of it. one cannot go a full year in a loving relationship with someone without feeling when they're being played, softened. If she's here charming him with requests for help, it's not going to be something he'll like. ]

What is it?

[ suspicious already. ]

[ she goes in with the soft lob: ] I need your opinion on a dress for this weekend. I'm down to two options -- but I find myself at an impasse. Can't decide. Fresh eyes might help.

[ surely he won't refuse the most simple task of sitting back and letting her model an outfit or two. and then, once that door's been wedged open, she'll hit him with the lion's share of her demands. ]

[ there are a few things steve learned after becoming captain america. feeling he is walking into a trap is one of them. of course, knowing is one thing and avoiding it is another. something's going on, and on the day of their anniversary, he sees her trap and walks in to it anyway. ]

I don't mind. But you know, I think you look swell in just about everything. Dunno if I'm the opinion you should really be counting on.

[ he likes her in just about every which style, in and out of clothes, after all. ]

[ now, just now, she approaches the treadmill. cup in hand, but still keeping a reasonable distance between herself and the machine. ]

There's swell and then there's party-appropriate. I trust you recall the difference.

[ maybe she's putting too much faith in him. who knows. either way, she suspects today will be entertaining.

for her, at least. ]

Never attended that many parties.

[ and those avengers and co parties in stark tower never demanded any form of formal wear. more importantly, he can't really see where she's going with this yet, but he jumps off the treadmill anyway, shutting it down and reaching for a towel. ]

Alright. I'll give it a shot.

Wonderful. Excellent. [ she leans her shoulder against the treadmill's front bar, not even bothering to hide a glimmer of victory behind her brown eyes. but she's not a heartless woman, and so: ] I'll need a spare hand to help with the zippers, regardless.

[ he's staring at her, opening and closing his mouth for a moment. absolutely a trap, she wants something and she's luring him, offering little gifts in the shape of a zipper lowered and by his own hand, too.

there's a catch but whatever it is, he doesn't really care at the moment. clearing his throat and nodding. ]

You got it.

Good.

[ -- oh, she's far too pleased with herself. quite aside from her goal for the afternoon, peggy takes a distinct pleasure in watching him worm his way around the realization. he may be taller than her once again, and barrels stronger, but peggy will so rarely cede her carefully cultivated upper-hand. moments like this one prove it time and time again.

she reaches out, catching him by his wrist. then leans in to catch a kiss on his cheek -- warm, a bit damp, but hardly sweaty. ]

Happy anniversary, darling.

[ and just like that, he's utterly gone for her. A happy state of mind in which he'd give her just about anything. Her lips press to his cheek and steve nearly gathers her up in his arms for a proper one before he remembers where they are. He leans in, his kiss falls just shy of her earlobe. ]

Happy anniversary, Peggy.

[ quite apart from her bit of mischief, she's got nothing planned. they'd had nearly a month of miniature celebrations as they ticked items off steve's list; surely, a day just to themselves is grandiose enough. or so she hopes. her fingers curl a moment against his arm, but the exchange of kisses is done almost as quickly as it begins.

truthfully, simply saying the words feels like fuss enough. it's been a long hard road to acknowledging it so easily and so warmly. ]

See? [ oh she can't help herself. ] We don't need any big dramatic announcements. The day'll perfect as is. You have my word.

Should I call off the skywriting, then?

[ it's a necessary joke, cliche as it might be. Still, there's a scheme here that he hasn't figured out yet. He doesn't let himself forget that. ]

Alright. Let's see those dresses. I'm still not sure I can help.

Don't you so much as joke about it, Steve Rogers. [ she claps back with a clear and present ferocity. if she doesn't snag on these awful ideas of his early on, they're bound to take root. ] Not unless It's the No. 32 Squadron. Saw them over Wembley when I was little girl -- they were in Sopwith Snipes, and I'll never forget it.

[ -- with that tall order made, she collects her mug and heads for the doorway. ]

A pity Sam isn't here, I bet he could have done a good job with it.

[ he's laughing as takes his place to her left. That's one hell of a mental image. ]

Could have called him and asked for a favor.

Not that I care to entertain this madness much further, [ she disclaims while they prowl the halls together, ] but what would you have had the poor man write?

[ -- be still her loving and curious heart. ]

Nothing much.

[ but his smile says otherwise. There would have been a thousand and one things to consider. but she is not wrong, they are all much more personal when he whispers them in her ear, ducking, leaning towards her as if to tell her a secret mid-walk. ]

Maybe I would just wish my best girl a happy Tuesday.

[ oh, heaven help peggy keep her stride straight and her balance impeccable. always a challenge when he dares to get close and ply a whisper near her ear. she glances to her left, eyeing him with equal parts warmth and dismay. ]

I suppose that's not so bad. [ so long as it remains hypothetical. ]

See? Maybe I can still surprise you.

[ sometimes honest simplicity is the way to go. With peggy, it seems to work just fine. Not enough to disarm her, to undo her careful posture her tone, but just enough for her to look at him just so. ]

You know they're probably all going to wear dresses with skulls on them.

[ he warns her as they near the room. What. It's a rock concert. ]

They may. I won't.

[ which might rub against the grain of a good undercover mission, but she's loathe to try too hard reveal herself in a huff off too much effort. ]

Some styles are classic for a reason. And frankly, I didn't much like any of the dresses I saw in the shops. One of mine will have to do.

[ -- not least of all because she doubts they can afford to buy something new for both of them. best to save what they have for his suit. ]

Probably because everything here is weird. I don't get why they keep bringing up flamingos.

[ very odd, indeed. He follows her inside, flopping backwards on the bed. Maybe with some luck he could tempt her for a proper rest after this. ]

You said there were two of 'em?

[ a quiet nod.

two dresses, yes, and both hanging from the top of her locker on hangers. but before she can put either of them on, she's got to take her current outfit off. so, nudging the door shut, she starts in on unbuttoning her shirt. ]

I'm afraid I can probably explain the flamingos.

Mm?

[ not the most intelligent of questions but he's more focused on undone a few of those buttons. His mind wanders to the last time he got to do exactly that. He seems to realize, belatedly, how distracted he must appear and so he sits up, gives her his full attention. ]

What about them?

In offloading all of his in the last system, Mister Jarvis may have influenced a few trends.
[ peggy explains while shrugging out of her blouse. there is, of course, a sharp pleasure to be taken in steve's distraction -- but she doesn't seek to push it. nor exploit it. not today.

and so, much like the blouse, she dispenses with her skirt just as clinically. just as quickly. ] He's a veritable taste-maker.

-- Doesn't he hate them?

[ the flamingos, that is. He tries not to smile even though it's a little bit funny. Poor fella. ]

One trend we could live without.

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