driftfleet | » we're all starstruck in september

Suited up.

[Call it splitting the difference.]

I do dislike the thing.

[ raw, raw, raw. it's not as though her disdain for the moniker and what it entails has ever been secret, but she doesn't voice that disdain so clearly so often. ]

[Peggy has more energy than Natasha does to dislike some things. It's not a problem; maybe the branding ought to question it more, but she's not all that interested in getting hung up on the question of presentation.

Not when this segues into a more relevant question. One she risks, though she doesn't necessarily expect an honest answer.]

No? How about the shield?

Depends on the shield you're talking about. The round one? [ peggy hums. ] It wasn't even painted when I first saw it.

[ and then she goes on to spill details she'd never mention to steve: ] I'm fond of the bullet marks. I noticed he hasn't had them removed.

[You know there are names for that kind of kink, Peggy.]

The round one.

[So hostile toward symbolism, Peggy.]

Not surprising he's the sentimental type.

Yes. [ peggy's head bobbles a moment -- as though she has to sort her feelings out on the question. ] I like the round one. It wasn't part of the original costume.

[ and that's it, isn't it? she knows the uso show first. the outfit, the pomp, the circumstance. and she knows that drawing she caught sight of in steve's notebook after a particularly difficult performance. when she sees the 'costume,' as she calls it, it's hard not to imagine the way he'd seen himself in its first iteration. ]

But there was one. A shield, that is. You could argue that updates are updates.

[ a soft hum. a shake of her head. ]

Not that one. [ peggy's smile is small, but it's there. as though the memory is a good one. ] He was never meant to have it.

You know... I know I have a different angle on things than you. And than him. So don't take this the wrong way, because I'm not trying to change your mind.

[Natasha pauses, considering how much to say, or if she should have said anything. It's too late to back out entirely, though.

The two of them have very different associations with the uniforms (Natasha remembers Steve going back for the costume after he soured on the more tactical gear he'd worn working with her in special ops), but the root of things is something else, something rooted as much in Natasha's idle musings on her own path as her read on Steve's.]

We get where we are how we get there. Maybe it could have been different, but it wasn't.

[She shrugs then, and adds more lightly.]

Besides, when did Steve ever do anything the easy way?

You're right.

[ of course she's right. about both steve and about getting where we are how we get there. ]

But it doesn't mean I have to like the costume any more or less than I already do or do not. [ how's that for a non-specific mouthful. the prevarication makes her smile. oddly. ]

He's a stubborn bastard. That's for certain.

Like I said, not trying to change your mind. Just—advancing an additional perspective.

[She smiles at Peggy's answer. She'll leave that there.]

The two of you have that in common.

You have no idea. [ a huff of breath. ] Our latest stand-off is a thing of remarkable bullheadedness.

[ she can admit as much just now -- much to her chagrin. ]

[Natasha raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn't ask the obvious question.]

I find that easy to believe.

[ actually! peggy's better angels fail to shout her down, and she asks: ] Did you know he got a ring? A ring.

[ it's an earnest question; natasha might not be glitched, this time, but she almost hopes for honesty all the same. ]

He hid it in a book. Bloody amateur.

[Natasha might be a good actress, but she doesn't have to fake her surprise to that news.]

He did not mention that to me, no. If he had, I would have told him to find a better hiding place.

Anywhere would have been better than the one novel he's read just about ten bloody times since he's arrived.

[ -- and jane austen at that? ]

I'd say ideally he should be keeping it on him. Just in case the right time pops up.

[Is that serious? Probably not. Not entirely, at least.]

An optimistic bit of advice, I think.

[ implying (perhaps) that it's a bit foolhardy to wait for a 'right' time. there is no 'right' time. ]

No more optimistic than buying the ring. If he has it, seems like there's a strong possibility he meant to use it at one point or another.

[And lets be real.]

The only way he was going to do that is by being ready when the opportunity presented itself.

Plus, then you don't get caught unprepared because someone decided to borrow a book.

-- Good Lord, I wasn't borrowing it. [ she huffs, as though she takes more offense at this than anything else. ] Merely moving it. We paid to have the rooms merged; the upgrade came with a bit of a need to reorganize.

Peggy, I'm not questioning why you'd open one of Steve's books. I was just playing the odds.

[Suddenly, Peggy's defensiveness is almost funny again.]

Either way.

I'd sooner be caught dead than reading Mansfield Park for pleasure.

[ APPARENTLY she is beating this dead horse. she'll blow herself out eventually. ]

I guess that's in keeping with your general disdain for fiction.

[Movies and books both, clearly. A part of Natasha wonders what Peggy would have made of Barnes reading Natasha The Hobbit on the Marsiva.]

Maybe that's why he thought it would be safe there?

Perhaps. Had he hollowed it out. Made himself a nook in the pages. But -- the bulge in the spine was telling enough.

[ honestly, she knows subterfuge isn't steve's bag. but still. ]

How could I not have a peek after seeing it?

It can't really have come as that much of a surprise. Either the ring, or the bad job hiding it.

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