driftfleet | ᴏɴᴇ ɢʟɪᴍᴘsᴇ ᴏғ ʙʀɪɢʜᴛᴇʀ sᴋɪᴇs (sᴇᴍɪ-ᴏᴘᴇɴ)

Only I get help this time. You're merciful. Must be that Christmas spirit in the air.

[ and he's ready grateful for that, he likes to imagine he wouldn't have been as lost now as he was then but still.

Better do this with her present in the room. ]

Or Thor's scotch.

[ either way, he's hardly complaining. ]

You've got to admit tonight was a success.

Actually, the jury is still out on that one.

[ whether tonight is a success or not will ultimately rest with the next five to ten minutes. maybe. she beats him to the bedroom, and kicks grabs an olive drab duffel from where they store theirs in the emptier closet. ]

The ship's clean, everyone seemed to have fun and nobody got too drunk. I think we can decide it went well.

[ he got to see barry drunk. That was a feat. ]

Come on, there was Christmas pudding. You can't argue with that. I think we can grab some of those leftovers to go.

You're right. [ commit that to memory, captain rogers. ] The dinner went wonderfully. It wasn't such a pain to spend the day entertaining. But -- the day's not yet done. Christmas eve hasn't finished yet.

[ a beat. she turns away from the duffel. ]

You can't say it's been a success when it's not even done.

I think you agreeing to this getaway was all the proof I needed to determine tonight was good.

[ he reaches out to fold a towel or two and hands them to her. ]

Unless you think we might get stuck in the middle of a snow storm on the way to the cabin. Seeing the stuff they have here isn't even cold, I don't think we're at risk. I told you, it isn't too far.

[ and, suddenly, peggy falls in love with the current lack of fanfare. here's steve, handing her a towel, and she can feel the rough fabric between her fingers. she can feel the heat from his hand when he passes it over. and over on the shelf, she knows there's a ring waiting. christmas eve or otherwise, there's nothing inherently romantic about the moment.

and perhaps that's what makes it so perfect. with a happy sigh, she pulls at the towel and tosses it into the luggage. but she doesn't let go of him, keeping herself firmly in his sphere of movement. maybe it is the whiskey what's to blame. had any acorn of this idea existed, today, before she'd started drinking?

maybe it did. maybe it didn't. or maybe peggy's merely making the best of her instincts. ] Oi. Wait a tick.

[ -- she reaches up to touch his cheek. ] Steve. It's been a miserable few months.

[ something's different. Steve realizes it the moment she pauses mid-packing and he wonders if he's been missing something all along.

At once, he's a touch concerned. Maybe he's been too engaged in tonight's success that he hadn't been listening properly?

There's no argument, no it can only get better now or it hasn't been all bad . Anyone else might have gotten all that insistent optimist but not peggy.

Right now, he only wants to listen. He rests one hand on the small of her back, the other on the crook of her elbow. ]

It's been a lot.

[ a quiet agreement, this one. ]

[ but there's a peaceful quality to the way she exhales -- easier, still, with his hand on her spine. on that same earlier instinct, she takes a step closer and settles comfortably in his arms. it's become more second nature than anything else. beautiful, glorious routine: to be accustomed to his affection and grow accustomed, in turn, to returning it. ]

More than. [ a lot. for some, it's been hell. and that hell has put it all into perspective for peggy carter. playing coy, playing difficult, won't do a thing to protect her heart. hers is gone already -- given over to him the moment he returned to the fleet.

she caresses a touch from his cheek back to just behind his ear. ] So marry me.

[ -- it's not a question. rather more like an order, actually. ]

[ steve rogers blinks and frowns, mostly in confusion.

she can't be serious, after all, or can she? mixing marriage with christmas would surely lead to a greater celebration next year and he's been lucky to get her to agree to this one.

carefully, gently, he tries to ward off something ( the happiness, the yes ) and - ]

---- I knew there would be a felonious theft of thor's whiskey bottle.

[ and it's the alcohol talking, surely. he smiles. ]

What was in that cup?

[ -- what a mouthful of words from her soldier. peggy takes a step back, surprised, and looks up at him with a hardening disbelief. here she goes out on a limb for him and he's got the gall to suggest she might not be of sound mind. ]

I beg your pardon. [ a nudge. one finger pointed into his chest. ] I'm as sober as a judge. [ ... ] A judge who's had a few. But sober enough, thank you.

[ her misadventures with the asgardian whiskey long since passed and smoothed over. what remains is a pleasant, honest burn. ]

I mean it, Steve. [ she articulates this thought with ruthless nostalgia. ] Every word.

You know.

[ he pauses, considers his words. he has to say this, just in case, just to get it out of the way. all these months of questioning and pestering and when it comes to the moment of truth, he is terribly cautious about it all. ]

Even if we don't, it wouldn't matter. we'd still be here and this would still be a nice Christmas and I'd be very happy to - just be here with you. I don't want you to think that it's a - must-have eventuality.

[ that his happiness is somehow dependent on that ring. ]

you and me, we're a good team. that's all I ever needed.

[ oh what fresh hell is this. a spark of indignation works its way through her expression, through her body language, and when she prods his chest next it's with a bit more strength behind the shove.

because peggy isn't thinking about all the ways in which he might be (arrogantly) trying to protect her. she isn't considering that he might fear she's only crumbled like a house of cards, giving in because he's worn her down over time and space. ]

You have been after my answer for months. Months. And now that I've given it -- [ her brows raise ] -- you've got the gall to refuse. What is this, letting me down gently?

[ well, she's having none of it. ] This is happening. You've brought it up so bloody often that I simply won't accept any other outcome.

I'm not -

[ letting her down, not gently and certainly not unkindly. this is outrageous, all these months he's been asking her why not, considering her reasons not to in an attempt to find a good argument against them. she wasn't entirely wrong. in the face of their happiness, there wasn't a pressing need to officiate anything. steve's reasons were sentimental, peggy's refusal was rational and now, with both of them in the same spot, he's almost startled to think that those dreary months might have shifted something. ]

I'm not refusing. I'm just - making sure. I want to know you're happy. you've had a few reasons why not to. what changed?

Would I say it if I wasn't certain?

[ he knows her better than anyone. better than colleagues, better than friends, better than blood would know her now. there is no part of her that would lie only so that she might appease him.

but a lot of things have happened. danger and mayhem and the kind of close calls that make her realize she doesn't want any regrets in this life. and then there's the sympathetic pain of watching max grieve for what he'd found, here, with furiosa. and there's the dress, too. the one that landed here like a gift and sits practically untouched in the closet. she hasn't even shown it to him -- strangely nervous about luck and tradition. for once. ]

Nothing changed. [ and that's true enough. ] The feelings that have always been there have simply -- come into clearer focus.

[ she trusts him to believe her. after all, he's the one who didn't ask her to marry him when she'd been glitched to speak only the truth. he'd known it, even then, that the answer would have been a yes. ]

[ he's silent for a moment. she's actually serious and in the end, steve does believe this isn't the result of pressure or asgardian liquor. he inhales, forgets to exhale and ends up having to clear his throat. ]

well.

[ if she's gone out of her way to do this tonight of all times, he tilts his head. stands to reason, really, ]

you might as well do it properly, though.

[ he's not smiling. nope. ]

You're one to talk.

[ there's been nothing proper about his prolonged proposal, after all. ]

[ his scoff is mixed with a chuckle. she's not wrong. he never asked her the right way, did he? ]

well, in my defense, I was pretty sure you were going to say no during all those times and I figured -

[ he shrugs. this is madness, isn't it? but of the best sort. ]

I figured we should only really do it right once.

[ the one time that will matter. he was counting on a theoretical 'yes' before making a grander gesture. ]

But. since you brought this up.

[ he won't steal the opportunity from her. ]

I don't mind passing the right of asking to you.

[ well. packing's promptly forgotten, isn't it? peggy presses her lips together and disengages completely -- stepping back and scrubbing her fingers nervously (nervously?!) through her hair, undoing curls and pulling at the pretty little comb until it comes free. she tosses it aside on her desk before turning back toward steve. ]

I'm not getting down on one knee. Not in these stockings.

[ which isn't to say she won't ask. but if he's going to be picky about it, then she's going to negotiate terms. ]

You used those to tie knots in a blanket fort.

[ he reminds her. this is absurd, this isn't even romantic. steve thought about - what? dinner? a dance? someplace else but the ship? instead, they're deciding terms and arguing over ideas. he could laugh, really. ]

I think they'll make it but if you insist.

[ oh but in the end, this is wonderful. it fits, it makes sense and it feels right. ]

no kneeling. but there has to be a question. I'm pretty sure we're not meant to include orders in a proposal.

[ how should he know! she wants to retort -- remind him that of the pair, she's the one who's fielded a serious proposal before. although arguably that had been altogether less sentimental than this one, despite hitting all the usual beats: fred on one knee, with good music playing in the back ground. but it had all been so stiff and unexpected. there'd been no heart in it.

no blood.

but right now she can feel hers coursing in her veins -- rushing, like ocean-water, in her ears. and peggy clears her throat when she reaches for his hand. leaving it like a command would have been easier, but he's intent on making this anything but.

and maybe she deserves that. ]

-- And no one believes me when I tell them you're the one who is so high maintenance. [ terribly romantic start, this. she laces her fingers between his. ] When the time is right and the details are settled, will you marry me?

[ there's an uncharacteristic tremble in her voice. it's not like she fears him saying no -- not really -- but there's something nerve-wracking about it all the same. ]

[ there was a moment years ago, when steve rogers saw her in red in the middle of a busy pub. it was during that night when he thought that one day, he and her, they could have time to do things properly. the dinners, the dancing, the progress towards a simple question and an easy answer. they never got that first date, nor everything that would have followed but it always made sense that if ever he were to put a ring on any woman's finger, it would have only be peggy carter.

it took quite a journey to get them here but in retrospect, he figures that if that's what it took, then it all must have been worth it. ]

I'd marry you tomorrow or in a week, for all I care.

[ but he brings her hand to his lips, presses a kiss to her knuckles. ]

yes, of course I'll marry you. whenever you want, wherever you want.

[ peg can't remember the last time she'd felt this weak in the knees -- or a flutter, like this, in her heart. steve kisses the back of her hand and she almost wants to laugh. not cruelly, but with warmth and love and a brand new certainty that there never was a more right partner for this life or any other.

her fingers waggle a little in his hand. ]

Go on, then. [ this time, her nudge is gentler. ] Go get the ruddy thing. See if it fits.

[ she knows it fits. she's tried it on. alone, out of his sight, and with a quiet pang under her ribs. it just took a while to recognize what that pang meant. ]

I think we both know that it fits and you should be kinder to it now that it's yours.

[ he had to go underwater for that ring and in the duration of ten months, it became a prized possession of sort. back on the planet that exploded, steve took to wearing it on a chain beneath his uniform. he kept it close and he kept it safe. he knows that without context, most people wouldn't guess it to be an engagement ring. most people would seek rosy-gold and diamonds rather than silver and deep blue sea-glass.

but it's such a nice match to its kin, the necklace that's hanging around her neck. he reaches for the shelf, closing his fingers around the simple box that contains it, he knocks his knuckles against her wrist. ]

I'll need your hand back.

[ kinder! as if the ring had feelings to bruise. peggy doesn't hold back from rolling her eyes. exhaling, too, with a kind of love-soaked exasperation. all the preamble -- the months of deferral -- has managed to take some of the tension out of the moment. she's glad; she feels more at home with this idle impatience than she does with any grand gestures.

it feels comfortable. it feels like them.

so she slides her fingertips down the length of his palm. she touches his wrist. she thumbs his hand a moment before turning hers over and offering the requisite finger. it's just as well they'll be leaving for a few days. she'll need to get used to the weight of it before letting the rest of the fleet have a glimpse. ]

[ they only really had to do this once and do this right, that was the sentiment that led him even when he constantly needled her with the subject of this, of making things official. it's one of those things that a person thinks about but obviously can't quite imagine. it all turned out differently in the most wonderful of ways. quieter; intimate, even, and filled with banter and back-and-forths and all the things that have become comfortable habits over the course of their relationship.

it's all certain, it's all comfortable, steve's fingers don't tremble when he slips the ring onto her finger, its proper place, in his opinion. it's his first time seeing it, however, and it invokes a smile. ]

peggy, we're getting married.

[ it's a warning of impending sentimentality if there ever was one. ]

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