"I don't think there's a time when you aren't good at your job," Steve points out. He's not shy about giving Peggy praise and certainly not when it comes to her work as an agent. She's much better at being subtle than he is and the combination of the two of them is a formidable one. He reaches out and tucks a curl behind her ear.
She'd very much like to reassure Steve and promise him that there's absolutely no way that he could do such a thing, but she also doesn't want to lie. There is a chance that something could go awry, especially when it comes to subterfuge and Steve's habit of being honest. She feels her skin prickling at the touch of his fingers to her hair, her mind clouding with unprofessional thoughts.
"Bloody nora," she lets out a huff. "I am going to go after every single one of those stupid men who thought they should keep you from me." She means to reassure him, to be kind, but her frustrations are boiling over as she thinks of all their lost time.
"Shh," Steve says. It's more out of wanting to soothe Peggy than to step on her toes or hush her because, honestly, he sees her as more than an equal. He's outside of his depth when it comes to this kind of subterfuge and he doesn't want to mess anything up. He wants a chance to be able to work with Peggy again, if it works out, and that depends on him pulling this off.
Peggy ducks her gaze low as it fills with a low level of irritation at being hushed like a spooked baby animal, shooting Steve a look that no matter how much she may love the man, she'll use her heel to step on his foot if he condescends to her in such a way.
Still, why glare when she can put a hand on his tie. "Just a bit tighter, I think," she notes, with an edge of sweetness, knotting it just on the tighter side of comfortable. "Two hours at maximum," she says. "I don't want us to seem desperate to gossip. He has to be ready to give us the information we want, he has to trust us and we have to build that."
She ignores the little voice in her head that says if they draw this assignment out, she gets to keep living this charade.
"Two hours, got it." If his voice is a little strained, Steve tries not to bring attention to it. He doesn't want to let on that Peggy's got him in his place until they get home and then he's very, very happy to let her know just how much in his place he is.
"I'll follow your lead. You're the best at this. I'm just the best at looking like I'm in love with you."
She gives him a chiding look that's ruined by the fact that her eyes are brimming over with fondness. "Stop that, you're going to make me want to stay here and tell our handlers that the night was a bust," she accuses, taking her hands off him belatedly, as if just remembering how problematic it is for her to be touching him so much.
Breathing in deeply, she regards him curiously. "We're not taking your motorcycle, are we?" she asks, pleading that they've sent a car. "I don't think all the preparation I've just put in will survive."
Not to mention, she's not sure that she, herself, could survive being pressed up against him. At least, not before a mission. Any other time is a completely different story.
Steve laughs a little and shakes his head. "No, they're sending a car. I wouldn't ask a lady to get dressed up nice and then ruin it all by taking a motorcycle," he promises her. He lowers his voice a little, brushes his thumb against her chin. He's missed her as much as it's humanly possible to miss a person and having her here is still a novelty he hasn't gotten used to.
"But we can always take that ride later, if you wanted?"
Peggy tries not to let her enthusiasm show, but she suspects her mood is evident in the way her lips curve upwards with such ease, thinking of being on that bike with Steve. She leans in and wraps her arms around his waist, as if measuring it for later. "Yes, I think that will suit just perfectly," she agrees, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek as she goes to fetch her gloves and her bag.
She'll never be this housewife, she knows that, but perhaps once she strips off all the trappings, she can see them enjoying a touch of domesticity. Peering past the curtains, she notes the headlights in the driveway. "I believe that's our car," she says, holding out a hand to him after sliding on the wedding ring. "Ready?"
Seeing that wedding band on Peggy's finger makes Steve's heart skip a beat or three and he suddenly feels like the skinny kid with the heart that isn't up to US Army standards. He's not, anymore, but he sure feels like it sometimes when he looks at Peggy and realizes that everything he's always wanted, all his hopes and dreams, are realized in this one beautiful, amazing woman.
He steps just ahead of her to open the car door for her and let her slide in before he does. "You look great. I know I told you already but I've got to get it out at least a thousand times before we get in front of society."
Peggy is grateful that the rouge on her cheeks masks the way that even those little words can make her blush. She had thought herself to be in so much more control of herself, but Steve Rogers' surprise reappearance in her life is causing her to rethink all of that. She slides into the car with a hand upon her clutch, adjusting her little hat carefully as she peeks, glancing to make sure Steve bundles in.
Since the driver can't be officially theirs, she begins to slip into her persona, demure and sweet, curling into Steve so she can rest her cheek on his shoulder. "You say the sweetest things to me, darling," she praises, and honestly, apart from being perhaps a touch forward, she feels like she's not having to play up much at all.
Steve slips his arm around her, enjoying the moment of getting to be intimate and romantic with Peggy because, honestly, he's never gotten these moments before. These are the things that have been stolen from him by the government and by their duty and he's going to steal them now while he's supposed to be on their time. He is careful not to tousle her carefully-done hair and every shift of his body reminds him that he wants her badly.
"It's not hard when I love you as much as I do. Just kind of comes out, honey."
There's a teasing glimmer in her eyes as she looks at him, implying that later, she's going to remark upon his use of 'honey', wondering if she's the first person to have ever earned that particular endearment out of him. She also can't help the way her insides try and liquefy when he says 'I love you' as easily as he does, as easy as breathing, like he does it all the time.
Heart racing, she steels herself and reaches down to take his hand in hers, squeezing firmly to promise that she feels the exact same. With a mind to their driver, she turns their conversation to banalities as they drive, discussing the colour of paint in the living room, what he wants for dinner.
Honestly, by the time they arrive at the club, she's desperately relieved given how bored she is by the discussion. Stepping out of the car, mindful that they're still in public, she waits for Steve, arm at the ready. "Incidentally," she says, when they're alone, though a smile is still plastered on her face, "if we ever grow boring enough to discuss paint colours, I may very well go out and pick a fight with the nearest Hydra cell just to keep our lives interesting."
Steve laughs a little. "Don't worry. I'll let you handle the paint colors if it comes to that. I don't think we'll be boring." Steve hopes not, anyway. Right now, even getting to discuss the colors of paint in their house is novel enough for him that he's fascinated with it and bored is the furthest thing from his mind. He keeps an arm close around Peggy both to keep their cover and also just because he can and he wants to.
"All right. Are you ready to put on a show, Mrs. Rogers?"
No, they won't be, will they? She revels in that, knows that he's right. If this is their lives, him and her, then they won't let it be boring. She's still so cautious and wary, though, unsure of whether something is going to happen to steal him away again. Only, those thoughts are robbed away when he calls her Mrs. Rogers, and old fantasies flood her, making her clasp onto his arm so that she can stare straightforward and her reaction isn't instantly seen on her face.
"For my darling husband? Anything," she assures, taking in a sharp breath. "I'm going to go gossip with the other housewives," she says. "Will you be able to talk to him until I can bump by and coax information from him?"
"Absolutely. You don't have to worry about me," Steve says. He's not the best at being anything other than himself but luckily, in this instance, he doesn't have to be anything else. They are expecting Captain America and he can play that to the hilt. The mark is more than happy to speak with him but it seems to be small talk; Steve tries to make mental notes of all of it to go over with Peggy later. She's better at parsing the important details than he is.
His eye is drawn to Peggy, though, so much so that his conversation partner notes it. "You love her, don't you?"
Peggy is keeping an eye on Steve and their mark, gauging body language, facial micro-expressions, and a number of other variables to ensure she doesn't go too early. After all, the last thing she wants is to rush this mission, not only for the potential risk of failure, but also because the longer this goes on, the longer she gets to simply pretend that it's all real. Eventually, she excuses herself and makes her way over to the drinks, taking the long route that brings her by Steve and the man. "Darling," she announces with delight, hand to his chest as she positions herself in front of the Russian, smiling winsomely at him.
"I hope he's not bending your ear with all sorts of boring trivia about motorcycles, this man and his hobby," she teases, squeezing his arm as she hangs on, as if for dear life. "Do you drive one of those awful machines too?"
The mark seems plenty distracted not by her smile, but by the cleavage lower, though he does try to hide it. Still, Peggy is glad that 'by any means' will help in that case. "Ah, no, I have an Oldsmobile. Not quite so fast."
"What colour?" Peggy asks, feigning interest. "I bet if you painted it cherry red, it would seem all the faster."
He makes a face, tells her 'blue', and she makes a disappointed noise, but at least now she knows which car to look out for. "Now, what were the two of you talking about, really?" she asks, of Steve, curling into the heat of his body, fitting herself in as neatly as if she's always belonged there.
"Mostly about my military career and my wonderful wife," Steve says. He's trying not to get distracted but it's a very hard thing because Peggy is curled next to him, her body aligned with his perfectly, as if she were built for him. He can smell the scent of her shampoo, the perfume she'd dabbed on her skin before going out and something beneath that is warm and sweet and inexplicably Peggy.
He's gone for her.
He's been gone for her since the moment he met her, honestly, and it's no more evident than right now. He's supposed to be concentrating on this mission and extracting information but instead he's distracted by the scent of Peggy's body and the way her smile flashes, the way the neckline of the dress displays her cleavage. He loves showing her off but another part of him, deep down, would rather just take her home and make her his. That's a dangerous thing.
Peggy curls in with him, letting the warmth of his body wash over her. Even though she can prioritize the mission, Peggy is also more than capable of thinking about all the time they've lost not doing this and how she intends to make up for that by soaking up every last bit of sensory experience. She wants to remember all of this, in the event that it goes away.
"Are you a military man?" Peggy feigns ignorance, appearing bright-eyed and desperately interested. She reaches out and presses a palm to their mark's chest, stepping away from Steve to get closer to him, just enough so that her perfume and figure are an intoxicatingly close distance. "I bet you have some wonderful stories and Steve never tells me all of his," she says, with mock-upset. "I'd love to hear some from a real hero."
Their mark huffs a little and just the tiniest hint of red at his ears tells Peggy that she's got him, if she wants him. "Darling," she says to Steve. "Get us some drinks, won't you? We can't have a hero be thirsty before he tells us about his experiences."
Steve feels a hot surge of jealousy rise in his chest when he sees Peggy touching the mark and he nods stiffly, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he walks away. He knows it's all for show, for the sake of the mission, but there's something in him that is too honest to be able to stand seeing his girl flirting with someone else.
Not just his girl. His wife, for the purposes of this mission, and maybe the vows didn't actually happen but damned if he's not just as jealous over her affection all the same.
He takes a moment to cool off and brings back three glasses of champagne. He's not much of a drinker but he thinks he's going to need it to get through the rest of tonight.
Peggy can read Steve well enough, even after all this time, to know that he's not entirely pleased at the moment. She tips her head to the side to give him a look that says that they're doing this for a reason, but then she's back to being the demure Mrs. Rogers, taking the champagne to give to the man, eager to ply him with liquor to start loosening his tongue. He's started to talk about some missions, but only enough that she's managing to get the names of a few towns.
It's helpful, but not enough. "I've always wanted to go to Russia," she shares, "we spent our honeymoon in England," she lies, fabricating it from the fantasy of what she'd wished that they'd done. "Perhaps you have some good experiences you could share? Lovely little restaurants?"
"Do we have the time?" he jokes.
"Always," Peggy promises. "We're just in town, you know. I'm sure if we run out of time tonight, you could always drop by our home, couldn't he, Steve?"
Peggy is certainly not going to be the one to cook the roast, not if they want to keep up the illusion of her being a demure housewife. She might have to call into the office to deliver something, but she instantly nods to Steve's suggestion, pretending that it's certainly the best idea she's ever heard. "With potatoes and all," she agrees, with a hint of simpering sweetness.
She leans in to kiss his cheek, promising that they'll speak soon. When she's done, she clasps Steve's hand and turns away to guide him to the bar where they can decompress and linger before leaving, lest it look like they only came for one thing.
She lifts a gloved hand to order them two mimosas, settling upon the stool and crossing her legs. "Steady now," she advises Steve. "I want to be out of here as much as you do," she promises, faking a smile at a passing neighbour. "We'll get our chance soon enough."
"I can certainly have a drink or two with you," Steve says. He thinks he might need it to steady his nerves even if alcohol doesn't metabolize in his body the same way now as it did before the serum. Now, it takes a hell of a lot to get him drunk and he's never really tried. It'd mean drinking an entire keg on his own or something like that and Steve doesn't have enough taste for alcohol to warrant drinking like that.
He deals with his pain in other ways, in ways that don't alter his mind and leave him blank. Catharsis is something that doesn't come easily for him. He doesn't need catharsis tonight, though, and when the drinks come he lifts his glass to Peggy to toast.
"To my beautiful wife and partner," he says, meaning every word of it.
Peggy's eyes soften, but this isn't for show. Steve announcing her as his wife in public is something that she'd imagined in her wildest dreams, yet here she sits with him as he says it in reality. She hears the clinking of the glasses as if a distant memory, and tips her head to the side, staring at him with as much fondness and love as she had during the war.
"You know, I always thought if you did come back to me, it would be in far worse shape," she admits, listening to her false rings clink against the glass. "I imagined nursing you back to health over weeks and months."
"You know it's almost impossible to kill me," Steve says, laughing that off. A scenario where he'd need to be nursed back to health would be pretty extreme. Still, it's a nice image and he smiles at her.
"I could fake it if you wanted to dote on me for a little while. I get the sense it isn't something you'd do for just anyone."
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Date: 2017-03-28 07:33 pm (UTC)"Hopefully I don't screw you up tonight."
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Date: 2017-04-01 11:53 pm (UTC)"Bloody nora," she lets out a huff. "I am going to go after every single one of those stupid men who thought they should keep you from me." She means to reassure him, to be kind, but her frustrations are boiling over as she thinks of all their lost time.
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Date: 2017-04-07 05:27 pm (UTC)"We can talk about that later, okay?"
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Date: 2017-04-09 10:16 pm (UTC)Still, why glare when she can put a hand on his tie. "Just a bit tighter, I think," she notes, with an edge of sweetness, knotting it just on the tighter side of comfortable. "Two hours at maximum," she says. "I don't want us to seem desperate to gossip. He has to be ready to give us the information we want, he has to trust us and we have to build that."
She ignores the little voice in her head that says if they draw this assignment out, she gets to keep living this charade.
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Date: 2017-04-18 01:34 am (UTC)"I'll follow your lead. You're the best at this. I'm just the best at looking like I'm in love with you."
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Date: 2017-04-18 12:59 pm (UTC)Breathing in deeply, she regards him curiously. "We're not taking your motorcycle, are we?" she asks, pleading that they've sent a car. "I don't think all the preparation I've just put in will survive."
Not to mention, she's not sure that she, herself, could survive being pressed up against him. At least, not before a mission. Any other time is a completely different story.
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Date: 2017-04-20 01:24 am (UTC)"But we can always take that ride later, if you wanted?"
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Date: 2017-04-21 02:21 am (UTC)She'll never be this housewife, she knows that, but perhaps once she strips off all the trappings, she can see them enjoying a touch of domesticity. Peering past the curtains, she notes the headlights in the driveway. "I believe that's our car," she says, holding out a hand to him after sliding on the wedding ring. "Ready?"
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Date: 2017-04-22 05:43 am (UTC)He steps just ahead of her to open the car door for her and let her slide in before he does. "You look great. I know I told you already but I've got to get it out at least a thousand times before we get in front of society."
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Date: 2017-04-22 03:19 pm (UTC)Since the driver can't be officially theirs, she begins to slip into her persona, demure and sweet, curling into Steve so she can rest her cheek on his shoulder. "You say the sweetest things to me, darling," she praises, and honestly, apart from being perhaps a touch forward, she feels like she's not having to play up much at all.
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Date: 2017-04-25 05:03 am (UTC)"It's not hard when I love you as much as I do. Just kind of comes out, honey."
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Date: 2017-04-25 04:16 pm (UTC)Heart racing, she steels herself and reaches down to take his hand in hers, squeezing firmly to promise that she feels the exact same. With a mind to their driver, she turns their conversation to banalities as they drive, discussing the colour of paint in the living room, what he wants for dinner.
Honestly, by the time they arrive at the club, she's desperately relieved given how bored she is by the discussion. Stepping out of the car, mindful that they're still in public, she waits for Steve, arm at the ready. "Incidentally," she says, when they're alone, though a smile is still plastered on her face, "if we ever grow boring enough to discuss paint colours, I may very well go out and pick a fight with the nearest Hydra cell just to keep our lives interesting."
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Date: 2017-04-27 12:01 am (UTC)"All right. Are you ready to put on a show, Mrs. Rogers?"
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Date: 2017-04-27 05:43 pm (UTC)"For my darling husband? Anything," she assures, taking in a sharp breath. "I'm going to go gossip with the other housewives," she says. "Will you be able to talk to him until I can bump by and coax information from him?"
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Date: 2017-04-30 08:57 pm (UTC)His eye is drawn to Peggy, though, so much so that his conversation partner notes it. "You love her, don't you?"
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Date: 2017-05-02 01:56 pm (UTC)"I hope he's not bending your ear with all sorts of boring trivia about motorcycles, this man and his hobby," she teases, squeezing his arm as she hangs on, as if for dear life. "Do you drive one of those awful machines too?"
The mark seems plenty distracted not by her smile, but by the cleavage lower, though he does try to hide it. Still, Peggy is glad that 'by any means' will help in that case. "Ah, no, I have an Oldsmobile. Not quite so fast."
"What colour?" Peggy asks, feigning interest. "I bet if you painted it cherry red, it would seem all the faster."
He makes a face, tells her 'blue', and she makes a disappointed noise, but at least now she knows which car to look out for. "Now, what were the two of you talking about, really?" she asks, of Steve, curling into the heat of his body, fitting herself in as neatly as if she's always belonged there.
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Date: 2017-05-06 11:14 pm (UTC)He's gone for her.
He's been gone for her since the moment he met her, honestly, and it's no more evident than right now. He's supposed to be concentrating on this mission and extracting information but instead he's distracted by the scent of Peggy's body and the way her smile flashes, the way the neckline of the dress displays her cleavage. He loves showing her off but another part of him, deep down, would rather just take her home and make her his. That's a dangerous thing.
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Date: 2017-05-07 06:33 pm (UTC)"Are you a military man?" Peggy feigns ignorance, appearing bright-eyed and desperately interested. She reaches out and presses a palm to their mark's chest, stepping away from Steve to get closer to him, just enough so that her perfume and figure are an intoxicatingly close distance. "I bet you have some wonderful stories and Steve never tells me all of his," she says, with mock-upset. "I'd love to hear some from a real hero."
Their mark huffs a little and just the tiniest hint of red at his ears tells Peggy that she's got him, if she wants him. "Darling," she says to Steve. "Get us some drinks, won't you? We can't have a hero be thirsty before he tells us about his experiences."
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Date: 2017-05-10 04:08 pm (UTC)Not just his girl. His wife, for the purposes of this mission, and maybe the vows didn't actually happen but damned if he's not just as jealous over her affection all the same.
He takes a moment to cool off and brings back three glasses of champagne. He's not much of a drinker but he thinks he's going to need it to get through the rest of tonight.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-10 06:59 pm (UTC)It's helpful, but not enough. "I've always wanted to go to Russia," she shares, "we spent our honeymoon in England," she lies, fabricating it from the fantasy of what she'd wished that they'd done. "Perhaps you have some good experiences you could share? Lovely little restaurants?"
"Do we have the time?" he jokes.
"Always," Peggy promises. "We're just in town, you know. I'm sure if we run out of time tonight, you could always drop by our home, couldn't he, Steve?"
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Date: 2017-05-10 11:35 pm (UTC)He can be brave for a moment.
"What do you say, Peg? We could cook up a roast, have him over?"
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Date: 2017-05-13 02:19 am (UTC)She leans in to kiss his cheek, promising that they'll speak soon. When she's done, she clasps Steve's hand and turns away to guide him to the bar where they can decompress and linger before leaving, lest it look like they only came for one thing.
She lifts a gloved hand to order them two mimosas, settling upon the stool and crossing her legs. "Steady now," she advises Steve. "I want to be out of here as much as you do," she promises, faking a smile at a passing neighbour. "We'll get our chance soon enough."
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Date: 2017-05-14 05:31 pm (UTC)He deals with his pain in other ways, in ways that don't alter his mind and leave him blank. Catharsis is something that doesn't come easily for him. He doesn't need catharsis tonight, though, and when the drinks come he lifts his glass to Peggy to toast.
"To my beautiful wife and partner," he says, meaning every word of it.
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Date: 2017-05-15 01:30 am (UTC)"You know, I always thought if you did come back to me, it would be in far worse shape," she admits, listening to her false rings clink against the glass. "I imagined nursing you back to health over weeks and months."
no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 02:00 pm (UTC)"I could fake it if you wanted to dote on me for a little while. I get the sense it isn't something you'd do for just anyone."
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