encompass | ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴘᴏsᴛ 2019-2020 ( ɢᴇɴ + sᴍᴜᴛ )

[ he thinks he could get up just now, put his cup away, as well as hers and kiss her. For one mad moment, Steve imagines cupping her cheeks and finding out what her lipstick tastes like.

He thinks about the dance he owes her, thinks how she had been forced to put that promise aside only to have him thrust back into her life.

Steve loves her and he thinks that if he's not careful, he might blurt it out. ]

Anytime.

[ he can't sleep that night at all. He tries to read and fails, tries to sketch and ends up with an outline of her fingers crooked around the tea cup. He tries not to listen but he still catches a sound or two coming from her room

Her offer echoes in his ears. He gets up and walks over, knocking on her door. ]

[ peggy carter doesn't believe in sixth senses. yet, somehow, she already guesses that tonight will find their paths crossing all over again - just like they did in the bunker. but this time, it's all the more ironic that the paperwork from which he distracts her is all about him to begin with. she keeps each report in a tidy stack on a roll-top desk.

and although she shuffles a beige dossier over the lot, she does little else to disguise what she'd been doing.

she answers the door after a scant twenty seconds' delay. it's some unreasonable hour, but she's still dressed - albeit with an extra button undone and her shirt not quite tucked. her heels are kicked off, too, so that she's walking on bare stockings. and so she also loses a few inches, suddenly all that much shorter than steve. ]

So much for sleeping like a baby.

[ she looks him up and down. she assesses him. and then, with a gentle nudge, she opens the door wider. peggy invites him into a warmly furnished bedroom with ample lighting and a very, very large four-post bed. there's a stately wardrobe on the far wall and an obscene complement of windows that overlook the inky-dark grounds. ]

It's the windows. There are too many in the damn house.

[ and they rattle every so often with the wind. With his enhanced hearing, it's like a band of drums. ]

I can hear them all at once. What's your excuse?

[ she's dressed, after all. She's never even tried to sleep. ]

You.

[ it's sharp and it's earnest and it's true in a half-dozen ways beyond the one in which it's currently meant. peggy crosses her arms over her chest and retreats by a few steps.

there's no need to shut the door. they have the whole place to themselves, after all. privacy is hardly an issue here. ]

It's a helluva challenge, actually. Thinking about you. Taking every thought I've got, [ she taps her temple, ] and deciding which ones are worth committing to ink.

[ and which she wants to tender only to herself. selfish and needy. ]

[ when he walks inside, it feels like a first step towards a goal he's aspired to since he woke up. The room smells like her, soap and perfume. Steve takes a seat in an armchair and tries not to stare at anything but her. ]

Which ones are not?

[ they are far more interesting than the professional observations. ]

[ and just like that, peggy is backed into a corner of her own devising. it's not so dreadful, really, given how steve likely needs a bit of of her vulnerability to calm his frayed nerves.

he sits but she doesn't - choosing instead to lean a shoulder against one of the bed posts. ]

You cheat at cards. [ her eyes glimmer. her expression warms. ] You like your yolks jammy. You don't chop firewood like I'd expect a city boy to do.

[ he has gathered a few observations of his own. Peggy likes tea with no milk and no sugar and she likes it strong. Peggy likes to listen to the radio just after the 10 o'clock news when they play jazz, peggy doesn't eat like a lady, not at all.

She's gorgeous. Every little thing Steve finds out makes the realization settle. ]

I don't cheat at cards.

[ Like that's what's important. ]

Edited 2020-03-30 01:30 (UTC)

- Oh, you do so.

[ she chides him. the outburst is all ego. and it's entirely possible that she's made it all up, simply sour that he'd finally beaten her the evening previous and she hasn't been able to win another hand since. ]

You might as well just admit it. Hand to God, I won't put it in the report.

[ she cajoles him, half-scowling and half-smiling. ]

I'll keep your secret.

Never would have guessed you're a sore loser.

[ it's a fun little banter, something that he remembers doing in the wee hours in abandoned barns in Ukraine, in little safe houses in Belarus when it was just them and the Howlies. ]

We can go another round.

[ they have time. they have all the time in the world, really. sleep won't come knocking on either of their doors. ]

[ she scoffs. sore loser, her? how very dare he. but the banter is nice and she sort of sinks into it like one might sink into a comfortable old chair. her temple leans against the bed post.

he offers her another round. ]

If you stay put, I'll go get the cards.

[ she could have sent him for the pack. he would have gone, too. but it's important that he still trusts her. important that she trusts him, too, not to snoop to far or too deep. ]

Yes ma'am. I'm right here.

[ steve would remember every detail of this room, such is his memory. He stays in his chair at first, notes the scent of her shampoo and her perfume. He looks at her vanity table, at a few tubes of lipstick and her hair brush.

Steve wonders what her morning looks like. Does she sit on her bed and puts her stockings on? or perhaps she leans one leg on the arm-charm he's sitting in?

it's a bit maddening, how each detail is so very appealing. He wants to find out everything, everything she likes and dislikes. He's as excited about it as he is about the observations she's making.

Does Peggy wear pjs to bed? does she wear a nightgown? he looks at her robe, arranged nearly by the bed and quickly looks away. His cheeks are tinged pink. ]

[ - she isn't gone for long. it's only a matter of breezing out of the room, its door still open, and hurrying down the grand staircase. they'd left the pack of cards out in the drawing room, piled loosely on a small table between two stately chairs. there's no such convenient surface in her bedroom to play a game. they'll have to improvise.

when she returns, she does notice a slight flush in his face. and she wonders why (naturally) but imagines it's easy enough to make a creature like steve rogers feel bashful when he's left in someone else's sleeping quarters. nothing looks out of place, however, and she smiles as she approaches. ]

I think we're best off playing on the floor.

[ the desk is covered in paperwork and the bed is, well, the bed. she clicks her fingers and points him down to the carpet. ]

Go on, then.

Yeah, of course.

[ makes sense. He clears his throat and moves down, knees first, to the floor. He lets her shuffle the cards, watching her as she does. He thinks it's a chance to say something, anything that doesn't have to do with his health or his sleeping habits.

still, he can't go ahead and ask her how she's been for five or so years. ]

Haven't seen Stark in a while.

[ that's a safe start. ]

[ meanwhile, peggy takes a bit more care when decamping to the floor. she manages her pencil skirt with moderate grace, opting to sit with her back against the end of the bed and her legs stretching in front of her - crossed daintily at the ankle.

for a moment, only the sound of the shuffling cards fills the air. ]

I told him to bugger off.

[ a brief pause. ]

He makes it hard to get anything done.

[ too nosy, to presumptive, too rakish. ]

He's being nice.

[ in his own unique way. Steve doesn't need the fuss but it's nice to see Howard and get Belgian chocolates or candy from Morocco. The man travels a lot and he always brings something interesting back. Aside of the terribly milky beverages and his many stories involving women, he's good company. ]

Do you see him very often? He told me you've made friends with his butler.

Nice.

[ she echoes, abandoning any attempt to answer steve's more personal inquiries. ]

The man is a mustachio'd menace.

[ peggy pauses in how she shuffles the card deck, and instead uses the whole pack to gesture firmly in steve's direction. ]

What did he stock your room with, hm? [ implying that he'd very much done so to hers. ] Go on. Tell me.

[ it's impossible to mistake that this is peggy asking the question. agent carter has been shelved for the night. ]

[ it's all very curious. She doesn't answer his question and on the other hand, she asks a question of her own, one that makes him frown in confusion. ]

I have boxes of candy.

[ that's what she means, right? ]

Don't you? He got me chocolates from Belgium and some candy from Morocco and I think I have a few boxes of Turkish delights.

[ more importantly, ]

Why? what did you get?

[ candy. good lord - what the devil has she ever done to incur howard's insufferable charity that steve gets candy and she gets silk? as a result, she doesn't hide her scowl.

but suddenly (tellingly) she can't quite look him in his face. ]

Not candy, that's sure and certain. [ at least not the sort of candy steve describes. ] He didn't leave me anything so useful.

[ she's still trying to decide whether she actually wants to answer the question. ]

[ she's holding more than a few cards to her chest. Steve's eyes glint as he looks at her. He considers his options; it's clear she's hiding something and Steve has to wonder what the hell Howard got her that got her like this.

In the end, he decides he can wait for it. He gestures to the deck. ]

Go on. deal us.

[ peg nudges the cribbage board into the space between them and proceeds to deal out a hand. she can see his curiosity pinging around behind his eyes, and she doesn't quite know whether the answer is worth the fuss. it comes with an implication.

hell, it comes with an expectation. ]

...Want to make the game a little more interesting?

[ speaking of expectations. ]

You know I won't mind but I'm pretty sure I'm broke.

[ He has no idea if the army kept his few savings but either way, even if he has some somewhere, they're not available right here and now. It's easy to be less worried about it when he has this house and food on the table. It'll just have to wait for when they deem him fit to go outside again. ]

I do have a bunch of Turkish delights, if you like those.

Immensely.

[ because peggy carter is exactly the sort of person who enjoys a turkish delight - bottom, mid, or top shelf. makes no difference. but when she thinks about her corresponding riches all silk and straps and trapped in the wardrobe, she realizes she hasn't got all that much to wager in return. ]

But I haven't got much to counter with. Nothing in your size, at any rate.

Hold on.

[ he gets up, quick and graceful and heads to his bedroom. His drawers are stacked full of boxes. He grabs one and two simple handkerchiefs and heads back. He lays them side by side, putting five candies on each one. ]

Winner gets to keep them. How about that?

[ fair deal, surely. ]

Steve Rogers.

[ she practically drawls his name. the hour is too late to be chilly and distant. she misses him too much to switch her emotions off like some sort of lamp or lightbulb.

peggy picks up her hand and eyes the cards. ]

You're too nice for your own good. [ a pause. ] An enterprising individual might have bargained for more than letting me risk what's already his.

Well, they're not mine. I'm giving them to you. Whether you hold onto them or not remains to be seen.

[ he takes his cards and looks at them before smiling at her. Honestly, he'd leave a box for her tomorrow, rested against a tea cup but this, tonight, is different. ]

besides, I have about fifteen other boxes. So about it? do we have a deal?

[ he's happy, he's earnest - it all comes from her softer nature, her banter, her not-as-professional talk. ]

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