encompass | ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴘᴏsᴛ 2018+2019 ( ɢᴇɴ + sᴍᴜᴛ )

[ —an affectionate scoff. peggy shakes her head and tries (again and again) to hold on to her indignation in favour of thinking about the reality of the situation. it’s easier. ]

Sounds like your big plan is to sit back and leave me to do all the hard work. All the tradecraft.

[ it’s an implication she doesn’t resent—but it benefits her, just now, to let him fear (even if only ever so briefly) that she does. ]

You must have gone soft.

Maybe. It's a recent development.

[ ever since he's seen her again. Ever since his reality has started to include her on his bed. Steve could simply lean down and kiss her and he's pretty sure she won't object too much. ]

I do what you say. It has always worked well for me.

Complete and utter bollocks.

[ she retorts—twisting, suddenly, until she’s nearly laying on her side to face him—upper body propped on a single elbow she’s jabbed into a thin weak pillow. ]

You do what I say, alright, but only to the point where you think your idea’s better. And then you do that. Mid-bloody-mission. The jawline and the uniform never fooled me, Steve Rogers. At heart, you’re a loose cannon.

[ she jabs one finger into his chest. ]

Insubordinate and rebellious from the day the SSR found you.

[ and, oh, she loves him for it. ]

Does that mean you're not going to use my help at all??

[ he lets her accuse him, mostly because he knows she's right. Steve closes his hand around hers, her finger trapped between his. ]

I promise I'll behave.

[ it would sound more serious if he weren't smiling. ]

[ peggy sucks in a breath—but holds it. he’s been bold a handful of times, tonight. stealing kisses and grabbing hands. she wonders (fretfully, fascinated) in the back of her mind where on earth he’s learned such casual confidence. once upon a time, he could barely make it through a sentence.

once upon a time, she’d kissed him first. ]

A promise isn’t good enough.

[ she grouses. and wiggles her fingers free—only so she can instead lay her hand flat on his chest, sliding her palm sideways so she can once again chase down the steady beat of his heart. her body inclines just so—like betraying a desire to lean in and listen to it. ]

SHIELD doesn’t run on promises.

Yeah?

[ he covers her hand with his. He is going to learn about SHIELD. he knows this isn't Fury's gig and he's glad for it. He's always thought of Peggy as the drive and heart behind SHIELD. Now he can finally see it. ]

Alright. What would it take??

[ that's more than a promise. ]

[ what would it take? bloody hell—this moment alone feels more pregnant, more potent, than any near-proposal before it. there is a clear line here: outline what she needs from him in specific, actionable details and he’ll meet the challenge. meet it, she suspects, and exceed it too.

if her breath feels short then it must be because of this professional precipice they’re standing on—and not the nearness of his warmth or the fact that she’s so close to him that she can glance from one blue eye to another. ]

You give your word—right here right now—that you and I can revisit the question of what to do about those stones. Not immediately, perhaps not for some time, but eventually. [ her mind is set. ] I’m not saying I’ll ultimately disagree with you, Steve—all I’m saying is that you don’t get to make that decision alone.

[ she needs to turn the question over in her mind. ]

There is a lot I need to tell you about the stones. But it can wait another day.

[ only one. Surely he and her have earned as much. He does meet and hold her gaze; he doesn't need to be told, he feels the importance of the moment in his very bones. He's asking her for so much trust, he admires her for even considering it all. ]

I give you my word, I will tell you everything I know and I will always need your input.

You mightn’t like it.

[ her input. but that’s half the appeal, isn’t it? a partner who disagrees—but who listens while disagreeing—and who can help you find the forest beyond the trees. the frame outside the picture. it’s something she needs just as much as he does. after all, he has access to a much much larger picture.

her world feels so small and so big all at once. he’s made it tiny and boundless both. his return changes everything. ]

But if you’ll ask for it—and listen to it—then…yes, we’ll have you.

[ i’ll have you. ]

Off-books, at least, until the DOD gets wind of you.

Won't make it any less valuable.

[ or true. He's learned to accept it, maybe not from everyone but certainly always from her. He smiles and nods, eager and grateful. ]

I will, I promise.

[ he realizes what they're doing. They're re-affirming the terms of an old, wonderful partnership. Awkwardly, he offers her a hand. ]

Want to shake on it?

[ awkward is precisely the word for it. there isn't enough space--not really--for a proper handshake between their canted, stretched-out bodies. a little flex along her forearm alerts her that fact; an attempt would be clumsy at best and weak-gripped at worst.

so her indecision rises to her face like a kind of tight-lipped frown--not for lack of goodwill or affection, but more as a latent symptom of the strange positions in which they find themselves both physically and emotionally. ]

--We can do one better.

[ she settles on her suggestion--her alternative--with a sudden alacrity. complete conviction. and before she can second-guess her own conclusions, she leans in, in, in and captures his mouth with hers. it's a spirited and sincere kind of kiss--communicating not only her love but also her trust. her admiration.

her faith. ]

[ she moves quickly and suddenly, they're kissing. Steve forgets to breath again, he presses close and after a moment, he cups her cheek. She's soft and she smells good and steve knows they have work to do but when they're like this, he almost forgets entirely about it all.

Their noses bump, it makes him chuckle. ]

Is this how we're going to seal every agreement? I think I can get used to this.

Edited 2019-07-10 08:49 (UTC)

[ she closes something that's come full circle--his arrival, back in her office, and a clumsy-hasty kiss shared in the dim light of her desk lamp. her fingers contract and twist on his shirt; she feels liable to float away.

but it ends (it always ends) and his laughter sends her face ducking, muffling, nuzzling up against the line of his neck--straight where it meets his shoulder. ]

For all the ones that matter.

[ she wants to tell him i could get used to it too but those words and any variation upon them get stuck in her throat. she inches closer--wiggling deeper onto his rented bed until their bodies touch. it's nothing tawdry or sordid; for the moment, she simply soaks up his warmth. his realness. ]

[ in the end, it comes to this, to steve getting to hold her. He's gentle about it, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her close. Steve is quiet for a moment, simply enjoying her presence and her warmth. ]

Tell me how's it been?

[ he told her a little about modern times and infinity stones but he's just as interested in listening. ]

Foe you - those last few years.

[ how has it been? peggy digs the tip of her tongue into a back tooth—tucking her chin against his shoulder and feeling a silent gratitude that he can’t see her indecision over an answer. ]

—Nothing short of a whirlwind.

[ it’s loose, it’s vague, it’s nowhere near a proper reply. peggy gets such a sense of fulfillment from her work—no doubt about it—but it’s an uphill slog.

it’s always been an uphill slog. ]

How much do you already know?

[ she acknowledges his curiosity, alongside whatever digging he must have done from the future. ]

Not that much. I know the general details about SHIELD, I know you all started out in Leigh. Not the details.

[ he knows about HYDRA, too. He almost asks about Zola but decides to wait, to listen first. ]

How have you been with all of this? Founding SHIELD, being director. You know - I'm really proud of you. I should have told you sooner.

[ proud. he tells her he’s proud. and—yes—peggy’s proud, too. she’s worked hard; she’s worked well. but she sees her work as less of an accomplishment and more of an imperative. ]

It needed doing—[ she answers with a lop-sided shrug. the ssr was rotting to its core, it had wasted the last of its integrity, and peggy wanted to build something better. ]

And I haven’t done it alone.

[ she’s quick to acknowledge the others who have put blood and sweat and tears into the organization. ]

I know.

[ steve thinks, this is where he wants to help. he doesn't ever want her to think he's saved the world while SHIELD mucked it up, not ever. mostly since he has always seen her as, well, an inspiration. so much of his decisions have been made with her in mind, what would peggy do or more like, what would she tell me to do. his smile softens, just a bit. ]

I just want you to know that.

[ especially given everything he still has to say. ]

that hasn't changed.

[ his wording is so very suspect. enough so that she pulls back, tilts her head, and catches sight of him with a careful, curious eye. ]

Alright. [ peggy hedges—all the sweet soft affection of their kiss draining away. only the spy remains. ] So what has changed?

ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴘᴏsᴛ 2018+2019 ( ɢᴇɴ + sᴍᴜᴛ )

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject