1957-09-11 - A Sneaking Suspicion
Summary: (Historical) Some time now a while in the past, Daniel seems to realize why Peggy's sick before Peggy does, and just how much their lives are going to change.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
sousa peggy 


It was a great rarity that Peggy was home before Daniel, their decent sized apartment on the upper east side not too far from the offices, so she worked often late, especially being director of this still rather new agency. But, she's not been feeling the best lately. Nauseated half the time (not just the mornings) especially if there is the smell of food about or any time Franco walks past with that colonge he likes to wear so damn much. Exhausted too. So, tonight, Peggy actually left the office a bit early and has been conked out on the couch since she got home, pretty much. She did bother to remove her high heels and jacket, but she's still in her suit skirt and camisole. The afgan from the back of the couch is loosely draped across her lower half and from the muss of her hair, she's been sleeping at least a good hour.

*

Sousa heard that Peggy left early and while he wanted to return with her to make sure he was all right, he knew that he needed to stay and finish out the day. She was told that if she needed anything…-anything-, to call and he'd make sure she got it. As soon as he could, he left the fairly new office and made a couple of stops: First there was a bakery that wasn't quite on the way home and then there was a deli that was closer to home. Balancing the purchases, he quietly unlocks the door and limps inside the small apartment, the smell of homemade chicken (or is it matzoh ball?) soup and fresh, sweet bread coming from the bags in hand.

The bags are set on the table before he limps over to where Peggy is asleep on the sofa. There's a brief frown as he watches her sleep, obviously concerned. After a moment, he reaches out a hand to gently touch her forehead as if to feel for a fever.

*

No fever, nothing at all really. Perhaps a bit clammy, but that could be a long day, or the cooler early spring temperatures, but other than being downright exhausted, she doesn't actually seem sick. But the exhaustion must be genuine, because she doesn't wake up upon his limping in through the door or setting down the groceries. She sleeps through everything, actually, until he touches her. That's enough to activate something in the back of her paranoid mind that has to look and check if there is danger in the room. Her eyes abruptly snap open, the sort of motion that says she's half a second from reaching for the gun under her pillow, when she sees him. She releass the breath she jerked in as she realizes who it is. She hadn't done that with him in a long while, but this wasn't her usual place to sleep OR the common way he touches her. Old habits die hard. She swallows back her suddenly pounding pulse.

"…Daniel. I… sorry. How late is it? I… shite. I didn't plan to sleep that long." Peggy's now trying to do her best to pretend she doesn't feel half asleep and isn't tempted to go back there. She shifts on the couch, getting her arms under her to sit up drowsily.

*

Sousa pulls his hand back quickly when she startles, "Sorry, Peggy. I didn't mean to scare you. You don't have a fever though…feeling any better?" He glances at the clock on the wall before moving back to the table where he left the bags. "I brought you some soup from Katz's…I don't know if you're hungry though. I also brought some rolls…" since bread may help settle her stomach? "I can go back out and get some crackers and ginger ale if you think you need some of that. Or Bromo-fizz?" There's still that look of concern.

"Maybe you should see a doctor? If it's the flu, you don't want that getting around…" although he'll probably get it.

*

As he almost jerks his hand back, she reaches up to take it and tug him down to the couch to sit next to her. She feels warm in the way that is comfortable and drowsy from sleep, not in the way that says she's sick. Probably a relief, because he'd no doubt catch anything she has. She stifles another slightly yawn and just tucks herself against him a few moments, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder. "Not the bloody flu.. I'm not coughing or miserable like that. Just… tired. Bread sounds good." She admits earnestly, not getting up from the couch or moving in a way that would let him up, though. "And I had the damn doctor. You're not sick until you see one of them, you know?" Peggy states with a half teasing smile in his direction.

*

If she was truly ill, would she still fight going to the doctor? Sousa gets pulled down to sit on the couch and as Peggy curls up against him, he reaches an arm about to wrap around her shoulders, holding her close. "Well, -I- can eat the soup then…" he teases some, offering a smile before it fades.

He really doesn't fight her too much when it comes to the doctor. He's been sick of them for over a decade.

"You're working so hard." He won't tell her to take it easy, because he knows what she's dealing with. "Maybe I should sleep on the couch for a couple of nights so you can sleep better?" If he's keeping her up at all.

*

"No." That comment is almost too quick, but no part of her wants him out of her bed. It's not denial, that she's trying to reassure him that he isn't keeping her up by over protesting. He's not. She just doesn't want to lose what hours together they have. "I sleep plenty well with you, Daniel. Hell…I have issues sleeping when you're not there. I'm not letting you go down to DC again for at least a year." She refers to the week he was gone about a month ago. It was miserable. She stifles another slight yawn, wrapping her arm around the back of his waist.

"…I'm just… tired. I don't know. Maybe it's all the overtime catching up to me. It'll pass, I'm sure. Play catch up sleep a few night's and it'll be gone." Peggy murmurs flatly, even if she can't quite see the obvious in front of her.

*

That's a relief. He didn't want to have to sleep away from her either. They may work together now, but they have to keep a professional distance. It's not right, but Peggy won't get the respect she deserves if he's right there and Daniel knows it. As Peggy presses a little closer, he turns to place a kiss on her mussed hair. "A few nights catchup, huh?" is repeated as the gears start turning in his mind.

He was gone for a week about a month ago, but before that he was here. She began feeling poorly recently and yet claims to have no fever or stuffiness reminiscent of a cold or flu.

"So, you're tired and…don't really want to eat…" except for bread. The gears continue to turn.

*

"Just the smell of food is… " Peggy's nose turns at the thought. "Maybe it is a stomach bug. Dammit…I don't want to go to medical. They're annoying. And keep lecturing about physicals." Peg is practicaly whining those words, which will tell him just how tired she still is because she's rarely a person to whine. She lets her hand drowsily trail up and down the side of his ribs, clearly just happy to have him home.

"…Keep you here two more minutes, then we can get up and eat. Did I miss anything at the end of the day? I told them to call the house if there was anything *at all* and I don't think the phone rang…"

*

Her statement about the smell of food turning her stomach causes the gears to grind to a halt and a klaxon alarm to go off in his head. He's heard that before, but not in years. Daniel's eyes widen before he takes in a breath and lets out. Hoo-boy.

"Peg, uhm…" he starts, not entirely sure how to bring this up. "When did you start feeling like this?" It's not like there hasn't been opportunity and maybe they weren't as careful as they thought.

*

It's so rare that Peggy Carter misses something. She's got one of the sharpest minds on the planet, really. But there are certain things, especially matters that tend to be traditional 'woman' issues, that are just lost on her. They'd vaguely discussed children, but always in that it wasn't a good time, their lives were probably too dangerous for it. It was almost a fight, once. But then it was put to the side and just never brought up. It's not a matter on her mind. So, as bells go off in his head, she's still drowsy and uncertain.

"…Uh… what day is it? Probably a week now… maybe a bit longer. It's… I'm fine, Daniel. You worry too much. I'm fine." Peggy insists, sitting straighter and then looking him flat in the eyes as if to prove she was fine.

*

Counting backwards isn't going to do any good. It would be hard to gauge. They were never a distant couple. As Peggy looks him in the eyes to reassure that she's 'fine', he looks right back at her, "Is it possible you might be pregnant?"

They talked about kids and Daniel wanted them. Things got busy and the discussion was tabled. With the possibility staring him in the face now though, he's trying very hard to contain his hopefulness.

*

Well, that was ripping off the bandaid, so to speak. He just blurts it out and while Peggy was planning on standing up, going for that bread, maybe putting on tea… all strength is suddenly gone from her knees as she stares at him, eyes wide, "No!" Now *that* is too much of a protest. Too immediate. Complete denial in the words way. "…No…" And it already sounds more doubtful as she does some math.

*

Slowly, Peggy shifts on the couch. She sinks back, her shoulders resting into the soft cushions behind her as she stares forward now. If she was pale before, now she's totally washed out. "…Maybe…" She finally settles upon. But that maybe has the weight of the world behind it. The weight of a woman who has just put a whole bunch of pieces together and is trying not to look at the picture.

*

Sousa is trying not to show too much excitement, especially as Peggy seems so distressed by the possibility. To try and distract himself…and maybe her, he pushes himself up off of the couch to go fetch the rolls. One is pressed into Peggy's hand, if she allows as he sits back down. "It's not like your life would be over…" he points out, one of the points of said previous argument. "We can get a nanny…" And a bigger place.

*

While he's trying not to show too much excitement, Peggy knows him too well and she can see it in his eyes. Ironically, it's that hope and excitement which helps soften the sudden stone in her stomach. She loves him so much. Anything that puts that sort of light behind his eyes can't be completely world ending. Peggy takes the roll he's grabbed her, but doesn't quite eat it yet. She sets it on the coffee table and turns to face him a bit more fully, taking his hand, "…I… I know, Daniel. I know. It's not… ideal, with work. But… we've managed so much else. We'll manage. Just… perhaps you shouldn't get your hopes up until I *do* see a doctor…" Her hand reaches up to trail against his cheek, reassuring and centering.

*

"We will. We'll manage. We'll do better than manage," Daniel starts, some of that excitement peeking through in his voice. Her very sensible statement, however, has that fading. "Right. You're right. I shouldn't get my hopes up." But he's going to, even though he shouldn't. What else could it be?

Anything negative really doesn't cross his mind.

He's also going to start scouring the Real Estate section of the paper. A child should be raised with a little more room.

Holding Peggy's hand, he looks from it to her, taking in her expression and the look in her own eyes. "You'll still be the Director. Nothing's going to change that." He takes a breath and seems to consider, "If anyone says otherwise, I'll trip 'em up with my crutch."

*

The excitement isn't *completely* infectious, but it is a little bit. The last time they talked about it, SHIELD was barely a year or two in. There was so much to do, she was still fighting for control. Now, while she thought maybe they missed their window, she had more respect from her people. Things were working well. The timing would never be perfect but it certainly wasn't awful. Peggy takes a deeper breath against the slight fluttering of her heart in her throat. She wasn't going to get dizzy on top of this, she really wasn't.

"…Daniel. I know that look in your eyes. You're already thinking of houses to buy and what color to paint a nursery." She half chides him, but there is a bit more of a smile cutting across her lips. "And I know I am still the director. But it will be harder. People will want me to take a leave, if nothing else. They'll expect me to step down once the child is born. You know how it is."

*

Sousa is trying, he really is. He never lost hope that this might happen and even though they won't be young parents, the fact that they'll be parents is, again, something he never thought he'd have after the war.

"I wasn't thinking about colors for the nursery," he scoffs, but he doesn't deny that he was thinking about houses. "Since when has Peggy Carter-Sousa ever backed down from something considered 'hard'?" he asks, his lips twitching with a smile. It never quite makes it as she talks about what others will expect.

"Would you maybe want to take a Leave? I know that it can be hard…but since when have you ever given into expectations?"

*

"…I..think I'd have to take a few weeks, at least. Or a month or two. But… no. Not a long leave. And I'm not stepping down. They'll just have to deal with it. We'll have to find a nanny. Maybe a nurse. God…" Peggy drags her free hand across her face, tired just thinking about this. She leans a bit closer and shifts her leg so it's resting up across his right knee. Sitting together almost sloppily like that, but she wanted the contact.

"…I should have realized… I'm late. Quite late. I figured it was stress… I…" She shakes her head, completely taken aback by how obvious the answer was and how much she missed it. She turns her head once more, watching him, her smile warming a touch just seeing that look in his eyes again. "…I think I need you to stare at me like that for several days straight to get it through my head that this isn't going to be an utter disaster."

*

"They -will- deal," Sousa affirms. "Have…someone prepped, that you trust, to take up the slack when you're gone and someone who won't screw you over when you come back. We'll find whomever we need to find." He's still trying not to show too much excitement. As she stated just a moment before, best wait for the doctor to confirm.

As she talks, however, that excitement grows as she seems to be confirming the possibility. Again, he's trying not to get his hopes up too much and obviously failing. He reaches out to cup her head in his hands and look at her, eye to eye. His brows raise as he says, in all sincerity, "This could never, ever be a disaster. Not with you."

*

Peg lets her head be taken like that, looking him over firmly, deeply. Her heart is still in her throat, but she knows the look in his eyes and that steady rock he can be when she's half lost her head. He's doing it now. She turns her head just enough to press a kiss into the base of his palm, nose resting in his hand, just breathing in the scent of his skin. "I love you. And… we've gotten through more difficult. If… *If* this is what you — we— think, we can manage it too." She's really trying to convince herself of that. "I should go in the morning. No… need to be in the office. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll go. I promise. To… not to medical. To somewhere private."

*

Sousa leans in to touch his forehead to her's, "I love you too…more than I ever thought possible. We -can- manage this," he affirms. He then pulls his head back to watch her, "Go when you can and where you want. I won't bother you, too much, about it, but at least we'll know and can prepare?" Even if it's just little things, like having crackers and ginger-ale on hand for when she feels nauseous.

His smile can't help but return, "This will be one extraoridinary child. I think we're going to be in for a crazy ride."

If the child is anywhere near as stubborn as the two of them, of course.

*

While it's not traditional, NOTHING about them is traditional, in truth. Peggy would almost never ask, they did so much alone, but now she looks up to his dark eyes and asks gently, "Do… you want to come? I mean, it might just be lots of sitting out in the waiting room, but… If you want, we'll go together." Part of her is nervous, part doesn't want to be alone, but mostly she wants to give him a chance to have that hope fullfilled as soon as possible. Or not to be crying in the office if they are wrong, for some reason.

She turns her head again, then, and presses a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. Not seductive tonight. Loving. Gentle. Reaffirming everything between them no matter how scared she actually feels.

*

Sousa wasn't expecting the question. His eyes widen and he nods, "Yeah, I would. If that's all right with you? I don't want to make you more nervous," but he would like to know right away and be there for support if it's not. He returns her kiss and just holds her for a moment. Even as he holds her, he reaches out and takes the roll left on the coffee table. "Eat. Even if it's a false alarm, you need to eat something. It'll help with the tiredness."

Someone has to watch out for her. She'd do the same for him.

*

"…that's the most romantic end to a kiss, Daniel. I love you. Passionate kiss… Here's your roll." Peggy teases him with a wider grin, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she does kiss him one last time and then sits back to take the roll. They'll end up actually splitting the bread and the soup, before she drags him off to bed to actually sleep early for once. He might not be able to sleep the night through, but she's out nearly the moment she's in her night gown with head on the pillow.

*

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License