driftfleet | [open] august starstruck mingle

What, not at all? [ she wears her mock-disappointment quite readily. god, every day makes him bolder. and she would swear as well that ever day since his not-quite-a-proposal has made him bolder still.

it's a problem. she's not yet certain how to address it. ]

Not one bit.

[ he stretches his arms behind his head, eyes her with a smile. ]

Peggy, it's been more than a year now. Surely a fella can think you're just about swell by now.

[ well. he's a bit of alright, isn't he? peggy behaves as though she isn't watching (with care) the way he stretches and lounges on his side of the sofa. he's right -- it's been more than a year now. and all the same she clings to her coyness. ]

I am still the captain of this ship, mind. Your captain. I'm owed a bit of an intimidation factor, surely.

Not at all.

[ and although there is an aroma of humor in the air, he grows serious for a heartbeat or three. ]

You don't need any of us to fear you. You're our captain because we want you to be. Respect is better than fear, anyway.

Oh, get off it. [ she huffs a mixture of amusement and displeasure. peggy knows this argument -- she's on steve's side of this one, in fact. his turn towards the serious (however brief) is unwelcome. peggy doesn't want to be serious. seriousness invites 'round too many storm clouds. ]

I'm not talking about the rest of them. [ she's talking about him. ] Being their captain is, I confess, a touch different to being yours.

[ this isn't a can of worms she should be opening. and yet. ]

Alright - look, after having a gun knocked into my face, I guess I do fear you a bit. I learned to fear sudden movements.

[ firm nod. ]

Better?

You realize, of course, that it was entirely your fault. [ well. and a little bit sam winchester's. ]

I figured we just came back from the Marsiva. How is it my fault? all I did was get in my own bed.

[ innocent as you please. ]

I couldn't just spend that whole night in that other room.

[ he says that as if the option itself is absurd. ]

You might have given me a shake on the shoulder, however. [ but her protest isn't much in earnest. peggy would have felt more guilt, perhaps, if steve rogers wasn't steve rogers. she'd attempted to inflict more and worse during their occasional spats at sparring. ]

Given the lights a bloody flicker.

I didn't want to wake you like that. I never do. I hoped for a more pleasant thing before I nearly got my nose broken.

[ that was a fine moment aside of the pain ]

You know I was a little disappointed.

[ such a neutral tone. ]

You never play your cards so roughly when we spar.

[ nearly, he says. she doesn't believe him. but she does put a bit more stock in his (apparent) disappointment. nevertheless, she arches a brow. ]

Disappointed? Oh, heaven forbid I should ever disappoint you. You should have said you wanted more of a challenge. [ she's never exactly held back, no, but she's never exactly gone all out either. ] Although, perhaps you ought to be careful what you wish for.

I just never figured Peggy Carter went easy on anyone.

[ he keeps his tone neutral, casual. As if they're discussing the weather. ]

I guess I should be flattered.

Perhaps I'm going soft.

[ -- he's too controlled. it's unnerving. sometimes, very rarely, she misses the way he used to stammer and stumble every time he spoke with her. moments like these? she craves that old upper hand. ]

Perhaps you've gone and blunted me.

I won't forgive myself if that's true. Never met a fiercer person in all my life.

[ and oh no, he's the one going far too soft all of the sudden. For a second, it seems as if he's about to fall on one knee right there in the lounge and ask her to marry him, this wonderfully fierce soul sitting right there. It hasn't been easy on her, this last while and god knows he wasn't helping her at all. ]

I'll put this tape away and I'll go and shave.

[ has he really been giving her a hard time over something silly like that? ]

[ the game falls away, revealing the heart beneath it all. peggy pauses -- watching him for a moment, and it seems as though she might indeed turn soft and pull him into an affectionate hug. but she stops herself, just shy of it, and instead lays a hand on his elbow. ]

What happened to needing help?

[ -- she watches him with attention and care. so, maybe, she hadn't much minded his earlier demand. ]

Yeah. I'd need that.

[ though lord knows if he's still talking about shaving or about something else, entirely. He seems distracted, somehow. As if some inner balance has been lost for a moment or two and he is now struggling to get it back. The marsiva had left so many scars. Steve remembers a surge of panic when he lost sight of a little girl with a wooden sword and an endlessly long dance she insisted on. Another sacrifice for his sake.

So many trials, as of late. ]

[ -- she sees the melancholy as it begins to settle into his shoulders. peggy aims to chase it away and, to that end, she smiles at him. it's a very real smile, like a crack of sunlight breaking through the cloudy expression that so often keeps her aloof and separate. even from him.

peggy takes the wrapping tape from his hand and bunches it in a fist before standing. then, she offers her free hand to him. her opportunity, it seems, to help him onto his feet. ]

You're in luck. I boast a steady hand.

I can say that again.

[ that he's in luck. it's more sweet than concerned for a change. it's a conclusion that brings about a surge of relief, a storm quieting down somewhere behind his eyes. ]

On both accounts.

[ but alright, he slips his hand into hers, lets her tug him upwards. ]

[ he's no easy lump to shift. not without a bit of cooperation, at least. and when she gets steve on his feet, there's a moment where they jostle together. it toes a line; peggy allows it. ]

Probably best to get what's needed and continue the mission in our quarters, however. [ she doesn't spell it out, but she doesn't fancy anyone walking in on them in the shared bathroom while she's scraping shaving cream off his chin. ]

It's a mission now.

[ it can't be helped, he's smiling. It might be the fact that she went reminded him that he could use her help or the fact that standing up brings him into her personal space. Either way, it lifts his mood to the point where he's openly grinning at her.

It's nice to hear her say 'our', too. ]

Well. It's hardly a date.

[ so what else should she call it but a mission? a mission to reclaim steve's chin from the overgrowth and brush that's taken it over. peggy takes a moment to pat him on his beaded jaw before turning away toward the record player.

diligently, she stops the music and replaces the needle. ]

I guess that depends on the definition of one.

[ a date, that is. Steve has always been rather generous with his own. He likes to think every hour they spend alone together is a sort of a date. Besides! A mission sounds so dangerous. This one will only require a bowl of water, a towel, some shaving cream and a razor.

And music, as it turns out. She had been spending her afternoon enjoying bowie. Steve leaves max's record player where it is but as they enter the room, he places the equipment down and turns his own music player on.

It's Nina Simone, today. ]

[ there's a benefit to be found in so much extra space. an extra desk, an extra chair. but for now she decides to haul only one of them over to the side of their bed. he can have the seat while she sits on the mattress's edge, peggy decides, and muddled her way through this mission/date.

likely more-so the latter, it seems, once the music starts. ]

And you're certain you're ready to say goodbye?

[ to his post-coma bitterness beard. ]

Quite certain. Go wild.

[ God knows he could probably do with a change. Maybe if the beard goes, ‫some of the gloomier sentiment will go with it. Worth a shot.

Nina Simone's Feeling Good ends, the Time is Now begins and steve lets her work in peace, angling his head according to her instructions. It's when the first chords of The House of the Rising Sun begin when he finally asks her, ]

So why shouldn't we get married?

[ it's going so well. well enough, indeed, that they don't need words. the music fills the empty spaces and peggy lets her concentration shift wholly onto him. she's got a diligent and affectionate touch; she saves it for him, most days. and it's out in force during this exercise.

it's messy. she doesn't seem to mind, much, with a towel draped over her knees quick at hand to mop up any wayward shaving cream. peggy takes her time in ridding him of the beard. although, she must admit, some of the between-stages where it appears better kept and trimmed aren't quite so jarring as the full thing.

it's all going terribly well right up until steve opens his mouth. the razor scrapes -- a little too rough, perhaps, over a patch of chin. her eyes dart up to catch sight of steve's. she sighs. ]

For one, I imagine it's a bit tough to find a C of E in space.

[ as answers go, this one is entirely flippant. and nowhere near the real one. but it wouldn't be right if she didn't put up at least a rudimentary deflection. ]

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