1963-07-08 - Home sweet Carter-Sousa Home
Summary: Peggy and Sousa finally get some time alone to talk after the stressful trip to Geneva.
Related: Everything Paperclip
Theme Song: None
peggy sousa 


Both Peggy and Daniel arriving home at the same time is a rare and wonderous occurance and it wasn't lost on Mickey. She pretty much attached herself to Peggy as soon as the woman walked through the door and Daniel actually let them have some time, mother to daughter, while he made dinner and put on the new 'leg'. He's been wearing it around the house to get used to it and, thankfully, it hasn't exploded yet.

After dinner and after presents were doled out, Mickey still wasn't particularly keen on letting her mother go when bedtime came around. There was a reminder about the promise of a pet even as she fought sleep but the excitement of the evening eventually wore her out.

Once they're back downstairs, Daniel asks, "Want tea or scotch? Or both?" Toddys aren't unknown to this household. There's clear concern for her exhaustion and he's fairly sure that their daughter playing 'leech' didn't help.

*

While Peggy was exhausted, the incredible amount she loves her daughter is never in question and she seems all too happy to be clung to all through dinner and after. Even if she did almost fall asleep in Mickey's bed before Mickey herself fell asleep. But, after many stories, she's managed to get up without waking the girl and come back downstairs, only wearing her stockings, skirt and undershirt. Suit jackets and shoes are for suckers. Her hair is still mussed from Mickey's pillow and her eyes have that half awake drowse to them.

The offer of tea or scotch makes her smile, "Tea…please. I think I'm losing my taste for scotch. Or maybe I just drank too much in Geneva, the only damn way to get through it all." She admits, but her nose does slightly turn at the thought of whiskey. Her stomach was clearly not in the mood for something harsh and burning. She walks over towards him, however, and before he can turn to get some tea, she pulls him into an immediate, deep kiss. Far deeper than the office. Something saved for home and private moments. Something she's missed.

*

Sousa noticed that she didn't want the dim sum brought in for her upon her return and that already had him slightly concerned, and the fact that she's turning down scotch? He'd say something, but the thoughts fly out of his head as he's pulled into that deep kiss. His arms wrap around her and he just holds her. She's not the only one who missed the touch of the other.

Not wanting to let her go, he turns his head some so that all he needs to do is murmur into her ear, "What can I do?" It's a wide open question on purpose.

*

The kiss cannot last forever, even if she might like it. Peggy happily doesn't pull back, though. She's not letting him go yet. She just sinks against him a bit more, her forehead against his cheek, nose at his throat, breathing in his scent and finding a center she hasn't had in weeks. Her fingertips curl a bit tighter against his side. The question gets a slow breath from her, but not an immediate response. She doesn't really know what to say.

"…This. Tell me I'm not crazy. Help me calm everyone down in the office. Tell me not to quit. Give me an extra five hours in a day. I don't know… I really… Just don't know." It's possible he's never actually heard her this tired in her entire life. But, considering what they are facing at work, it might not be too much a surprise.

*

He doesn't envy her the position. He had it for two weeks and didn't really care for it. He may have his strengths, but he's no Peggy Carter and he knows it. Daniel just holds her as she speaks, listening, his arms tightening around her for that extra support that both may need.

"You're not crazy. We need to have a staff meeting with everyone and explain what's happening. You, me, Brian, and Coulson…we can present the facts and what -will- happen. Threaten if they even think of going to the press to out the organization. Once it gets out to the public, it's not our responsibility." He takes a brief step back to look at her then, "Don't quit…because I don't know that I'd be able to do the job as well as you." He tries a little bit of humor…it may fall flat.

*

Another deep breath, the scent of his neck familiar and so much home that she, for this moment, feels better than she has in days. Here does she feel like maybe they can handle this. "Next time, you're coming with me. We'll leave Brian in charge. Two weeks was too long. I hate this." Peggy finally confesses, something she's never said in her job before but, with Zola's file weighing down her desk, she's absolutely feeling it now. She turns her head to press a few kisses along the edge of his jaw before, very reluctantly, she begins to let go.

"…I'm scared if I sit down I'm just going to fall asleep. Jet lag is an awful bitch." Peggy admits quietly, but she does finally begin to make her way to the couch. She doesn't protest about his making tea, or having cooked dinner. Tonight, she's letting him take care of things entirely.

*

"Is there going to be a next time?" is asked quickly. Are they going to do this to them again? Sousa lets Peggy move over to the couch as he grabs his cane (not crutch!) to get himself over to the kitchen. It takes only a moment to put a kettle on the stove to boil and he's then coming back to join her.

"I hate it too. They've put us in a bind and I don't see a way out. Captain Rogers was pretty upset when I talked to him…I asked Brian to try and explain things, but things were so different twenty years ago. The country was different. The SSR was different…" he then quiets. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about work."

*

The fact it's taken her this long to realize he's just using a cane, not the crutch, speaks to how out of it Peggy's mind is right now. She's generally not one to miss details. But, as she hears him coming back in the room, her eyes half shut, body tempted to slip into sleep, she notices the pattern is different and her eyes flicker back open, staring directly at his leg for a heartbeat or two. Then smiling. "You're… using the leg? Is it more comfortable? You seem to be getting around with the cane… Wonderfully." She tries not to look or sound too proud, but she is. And hopeful.

Then he's commenting about not taking about work and, for once, she just nods. "…no work sounds… lovely right now. It's done for tonight. There is nothing else we can do. We.. we should put it aside. We both need to be better about that." Wow, maybe she *was* getting sick, talking like that!

*

"I don't know if 'comfortable' is the right word. It's not chafing or anything," which is sort of miraculous considering he never sat for measurements or anything like that. Daniel moves over to sit next to her on the couch as they wait for the tea to boil. "It feels like my leg is numb, but I can still -feel- it." Which, again, is disconcerting in and of itself. "But if it means I can get down on the floor and play with Mickey or actually sort of dance with my wife, I'll figure out how to deal with it." He hasn't worn it into work yet…no need to do that yet although now might be a good time for it to go mostly unnoticed. It does also mean, as he sits, he has two knees.

An arm raises to rest across the back of the couch and, by coincidence or not, behind Prggy's shoulders and he looks to her. Nothing is said for a moment until he agrees, "We should. I wanted to book us a beachhouse on the Cape for a week or two…think we might be able to get out there sometime this summer?" Actually take a vacation?

*

Watching him sit through drowsy eyes just makes Peggy smile a bit more. No complaints about the arm. If nothing, she actually curls up a bit closer into him. He might end up trapped and unable to get the tea when the kettle finally boils! Her arm loosely drapes across his waist and her head settles on his shoulder and, for a rare once, Peggy just lets herself entirely lean on her husband. He can be the take charge support for tonight. She just needs to lay here and recharge now. "…Well, it… it seems like it works well for you. As long as YOU are happy, as I said, that's what matters. The other things can take or leave. But I won't complain about a dance or two." She admit with a wry smile, turning to press a kiss against his collar bone.

The question of a vacation mkes her sigh. Her eyes go a bit wide, pulling her head up again as he says a WEEK or TWO. That is enough to draw her back to reality. She stares hard at him, skepticism now in her features and a bit more wakefulness to her gaze. "…You really think we could get out of here a whole WEEK with… everything that is happening? Much less two? It… it sounds lovely, Daniel, but… impractical."

*

He's not thinking about himself with the leg. Not yet. Maybe later, but the other things that he mentioned are far more important to him right now. "We'll go out dancing then…later." Not tonight, of course.

It's a rare moment that he's allowed to support her and he is going to be there, no matter what. Daniel's arm goes around her shoulders and he just holds her close, turning in to press a kiss to her hair.

When she pulls away though, he shifts to look at her, a little guilt-stricken that he ruined the moment and woke her up a bit more. "I don't mean tomorrow or next week or even this month. But Peggy…we need a break. All three of us. We need a chance to just be a family for more than a few hours a night. Even if it's just a couple of weeks a year. We need a reset."

*

The kiss was almost enough to keep her there. Almost. But this was a conversation they needed to have *outside* of the dozen of work conversations they needed to have, so Peggy doesn't return to being curled up as she was. She just watches him, trying not to immediately over-react or snap. She's missed him too much, even with all of her on edge. Her fingertips against his stomach just girl gently, a more calm touch than what she's feeling.

"…I know. You are right." Those words are said with a breath, tempering emotion and initial reactions. She is giving him this one without protest — for the beginning, at least. "But we also have fucking Nazis in our back yard again, not enough agents, and an entire world that is relying on us to keep them safe. How do we just… walk away from this right now? Even for just a week? I know we need it but.. I don't know how we live with ourselves if something awful happens."

*

Sousa seems about ready to respond when the kettle whistles. "I'm getting the tea," is offered as he pushes himself back to his feet and grabs the cane, making his way back into the kitchen. It's also a chance for him to calm the immediate flare of emotion and work out a calmer, more rational argument. Eventually, a teacup is brought in and set on a side table for Peggy before he goes back for his own cup. Again, it's time to think.

When he finally sits back down on the couch, his demeanor is a bit calmer and he offers, "Again, I'm not saying that it needs to be this minute or even this month. But unless something changes, we're going to be stuck with them for a while, right? The world doesn't know we're here. The world thinks we're bankers and secretaries and telephone operators and lawyers. How can we protect them when we're ground to the bone? When we've gone sleepless nights and exhausting days for years? How can we honestly make the best decisions when our heads are so full of work that we don't leave time for them to rest?"

*

It speaks well of them, actually, that they are both learning to stop and think before they lose themselves to immediate emotions. It's progress after ten years. Not to say that they still don't sometimes just snap — they're both passionate people — but they've gotten far better about it. So, she lets him go for the tea and takes time to breathe herself, to focus her head and arguments, even if part of her knows that he's right about this entire matter. She reaches up to accept her tea as he comes back, a faint smile brushing her lips. "Thank you, Daniel…" But she lets him go again. They both need tea.

When he's returned, she keeps eyes level with him, letting him entirely finish his statements even as there is doubt in her gaze. She frowns somewhat deeper, her free hand coming up to drag across her face. Even with this tense conversation, the temptation to just ignore it and sleep was greater than she cared to admit. Finally, though, she speaks, "…we can't now. Not while they're settling in. Not while we're working out the schedules, figuring out… how to juggle everything. We simply cannot. However…" She takes a sip of her tea, considering how to phrase this, "…In six weeks… two months, once everything has settled out and I'm confident we have them well monitored… we can go. For just a week. I can't do two, not right now. Not both of us. But a week. And we have to let people know where we are…"

*

Sousa watches Peggy as she speaks, listening to her words…in the end, when it comes to work matters, she's his boss and he's not going to fight that. However, he leans back and sort of turns to the side, a sigh of frustration escaping from him. "Mickey starts school the beginning of September." In six weeks to two months. Funny how that timing just won't work out now.

"I'm just trying to keep this family together, Peg." So much for not talking about work. "I get that we're dealing with a mess. I don't want the Nazis here any more than you do…they nearly killed me, they killed millions…I think what NATO is doing to us is rotten! But it was that or shut down the organization entirely. I -get- that." His hand taps at the arm of the sofa before he gets back to his feet so he can pace slowly around the couch. "You don't think I have issues within my own department as well? These riots, these emergences of Mutants and the return of Captain America? We know -nothing- about who these mutants are or what they can do and they're organizing! Is this a good thing? A bad thing? No one knows because we don't -know- them." People with powers running amuck. There's already been one riot.

A hand then presses to his forehead, "Let's not fight tonight. Neither of us are in the mindset to get anything accomplished except to get upset."

*

Starts school. With everything, Peggy had actually forgotten that's how old their daughter is. *School*. Her eyes widen slightly as he mentions the timing and it actually fully does manage to shut her up. She says nothing for a long few minutes, including through the end of his rant concerning mutants, and the begging her not to fight, and beyond. All she whispers after a few heartbeats is a quiet, "No, I don't want to fight… Not now." Not ever, really. But definitely not tonight. She finally lets her eyes drop away from him, taking a good sip of her tea before she sets it aside.

"…the week before Mickey starts school, we'll go. Somehow. Unless everything is on fire, and I… can't promise that it won't be, but we'll go. Is that… Sufficient? Enough? It's the best I can offer, and I can't even promise it, Daniel, and I hate myself for that. But… you know. We both know." She raises her gaze to meet his eyes again, the exhaustion in her eyes only slightly muddying just how hard she IS trying.

*

"Sure. That's fine," is offered wearily. It's a little Passive-Agressive, but Sousa knows that she's trying. He knows that it wasn't easy for her to agree to even that time. "I'll see what I can find then." He doesn't go back to the cooling tea on the coffee table but he does go to sit back down on the couch. He then reaches out to take Peggy's hands in his and goes to look her square in the eye.

"Promise me that we won't let these Nazis tear our family apart. We can't let them win. We couldn't then and we can't now."

*

It's like a string of tension is cut in her as he says that's fine. Passive-agressive or not, it was an agreement. It was better than she thought they'd get to, both of them exhausted and on edge. Peggy lets out the rest of the breath she hadn't even really known she was holding. She half smiles as he returns to the couch, letting her hands be taken, her body shifting enough she can fully face him from where she sits.

"…I promise. I… absolutely promise. If we don't have our family then… what are we fighting for? I'll come home at night, we both will. We'll take care of Mickey, be here for her. We… we'll manage. Somehow. I love you. I love her. We'll manage. I promise." She whispers quietly, her hands tightening around his.

*

Sousa has disconnected.

*

Sousa has connected.

*

Sousa is just so tired of being exhausted. It's a constant state, but now, especially, he's finding it harder and harder to be there for Mickey when she needs him to be a Dad…not a SHIELD Agent. "I love you too…and I love our family. We won't let anything change that." It's a vow. A promise. These next few weeks and months and years may be trying, but they'll get through. They have to.

*

There is a part of Peggy which simply wants to cry, because she can see the exhaustion behind his eyes. The heartache. The struggle. How close they are to breaking and she knows she's a part of that. She abruptly looks away, even as that glassiness wells up in her eyes, so he can't see it as she tries to blink it back. Just curling in on herself instead of against him. It's still habit, all these years. She didn't need to put more weight on him. "I'm… so sorry, Daniel. It was… never supposed to be this way. I'm sorry I can't make things… Better. Easier. I was… supposed to do that. This was supposed to be easier. The war is over. Life was supposed to be better."

*

Sousa scoots over closer to Peggy and goes to wrap his arms about her; even if she won't lean on him, he's not going to keep his distance. His voice is quiet but firm as he says, "Don't you dare think that this is all your fault. Don't you -dare- think that I or Mickey…or anyone expects you to carry the cares of the world on your shoulders. I'm not asking you to make things better or easier." Even though he sort of was and he winces upon that realization "I'm not sure that the war will ever really be over for those of us who saw it." He leans in to press his lips against her shoulder for a moment.

"Maybe we need to take a play from Rogers' book. Show them how damned strong Americans…and Brits are. Show them that they can't win. They couldn't then, and they can't now." He straightens then, looks thoughtful for a moment, and the turns to Peggy with an almost amused grin, "We can't let them bully us." As if that was the answer this whole time.

*

No, dammit! Hugging her makes it worse. It means it's even harder to pull herself together and not cry, because it's always harder when someone shows that they care. Peggy trembles a bit, just a brush of unevenness to her breath as a few tears have the audacity to escape free even as he kisses her shoulder. She doesn't sob, but the tears at there. Chalk it up to exhaustion. She finally just leans a bit more into him because fighting it is worse and she does love him. She doesn't let herself cry more, though. She tries to focus her breath enough that it stops.

Then he's going on about not letting them bully us and she blinks, a touch of tired confusion on her red eyes. She turns her head in his direction, watching him a few heartbeats. "Darling… I love you, but I don't think trashcan lids and lying to recruitment offices are exactly how we win this fight. We… we've got this. We will tail them and watch them and make certain everyone is safe. It's all we can do."

*

"Wait, he lied to recruitment officers?" Does Sousa know the whole story? But that's something for another time. "That's not what I mean. When we talked, he was very much all 'We're America and we're right and free and can do what we want'. I remember those old movie shorts…him punching out Hitler. Like someone standing up to a bully." He straightens, also a little more awake, and reaches over to try and brush some of her tears away. "They know we don't want them here. They know they're the bad guys and that despise them. They know they're throwing us for a loop. That's power. Over -us-." His smile returns some, "We just can't give it to them. Sure, they'll be watched and tailed, but we need to show them that we aren't afraid of them. They hold no power over us."

*

Peggy is actually about to respond to the comment about lying to recruitment officers, a touch of amusement across her exhausted features, but Daniel is barreling onto in the rest of the conversation and that is perfectly fine. She takes a deeper breath and uses the back of her wrist to brush away those few tears, but the momentary sign of weakness seems to have passed as quickly as it came. She shifts her body enough she can face him without pulling out of his arms. "Alright, Daniel…your wife's brain is still on Geneva time and I don't know how I'm upright, so you're going to have to spell this out for me. You aren't suggesting we just shove them face first into tables and show them who is boss while pinning them there? I mean…that might feel good…"

*

"It would feel fantastic, but I think they're expecting it. I think they're expecting to be interrogated and scrutinized and treated like they're the vilest things on earth. Which they are." Daniel nods to himself as if this might actually work. "I'm not saying we throw them a party and pretend like they're our best friends but what if we act like they're nothing more than foreign scientists? To their faces, of course. We still keep the surveillance and the agents on them, but…we don't let them instill fear in us."

*

"…I… I guess, I mean, wasn't that the plan? But I can order people to be.. Nice to them. To not show fear. I'd hope our agents wouldn't anyway but… I guess we are the better people. We should BE the better people." Peggy takes in another deep breath. Just having SOME idea of how to go forward was oddly comforting. She reaches her hand out to rest on his thigh, giving a warm, reassuring squeeze. "It's a good idea. Make that the policy. Make it clear to everyone. We keep our chins up and eyes forward. We go on. WE can do this."

*

"Our plan was to watch them like hawks. The sense I got from everyone when we talked about it was that they'd be met with utter disgust. Except Howard," of course. He looks up at that and gives an exasperated sigh. It's like dealing with a teenager, that one. "But if we put out the memo that these men are to be treated no differently, to their faces, as any other visiting experts. No one needs to go out of their way to befriend them but we need to be civil." He actually gives a chuckle before he says:

"We need to be Americans."

He practically braces himself for a smack. "Maybe you should be making that policy, Lady Director. I'll happily enforce it among my team, however." Back to being just the head of one Department. It might almost seem like a vacation. "We don't let them stop us."

*

"…Well… as an American only by having married a very handsome Division Head, I don't know if I can exactly instruct everyone on the best way to… Be Americans, but I shall at least put the policy out come the morning." Peggy states with a bit more of a laugh, "And no, they don't stop us. They were never going to. We will manage. We are SHIELD. WE always do." She squeezes his leg warmly, reassuring, but he does seem to have eased her spirts some with this little pep talk.

Even if she still seems half asleep and has barely touched her tea.

*

"I think, Mrs. Sousa," he so rarely uses that married name, "You're not much less American than I am…" seeing as he's only second generation, himself. "Although I guess you're right…Brian might not like that order. Being British, in this case, will also work. Stiff upper lip, what?" he tries to imitate her accent…and he might even be successful.

His smile fades then, "More than that, we're people. We're people who survived a war and made the most of our lives after it with what we had left. We won't let anyone take that from us." He's quite serious about that. Dark eyes watch his wife for a moment before he pushes to his feet, grabs his cane, and offers a hand to her, "Come on. Let"

*

"I think, Mrs. Sousa," he so rarely uses that married name, "You're not much less American than I am…" seeing as he's only second generation, himself. "Although I guess you're right…Brian might not like that order. Being British, in this case, will also work. Stiff upper lip, what?" he tries to imitate her accent…and he might even be successful.

His smile fades then, "More than that, we're people. We're people who survived a war and made the most of our lives after it with what we had left. We won't let anyone take that from us." He's quite serious about that. Dark eyes watch his wife for a moment before he pushes to his feet, grabs his cane, and offers a hand to her, "Come on. Let's get you to bed. You don't want to spend your first night home sleeping on the couch, do you?"

*

Mrs. Sousa. If there is one thing that can truly make her smile, hearing that from his lips is it. It's rarity somehow makes the term more special. She leans over, stealing a gentle, earnest kiss to the corner of his mouth a heartbeat after he says that. A chuff of a laughing breath brushes his jaw as he comments on Brian, "He'll figure it out…" She mutters, still not leaning away from hi.

But then he's getting up and she's making a small, tired protest sound in her throat because getting up is not something she wants to do. Bed is so far. But his hand is there and sleeping on the couch sounds words, so despite her throaty whining (incredibly like Mickey sometimes, but don't dare tell her that), Peggy takes his hand and gets up drowsily. "I… was hoping to spend it doing more fun things than sleeping but… bloody awful jet lag. Getting old is awful, Daniel. Why are we doing it again?" She half teases.

*

"I'm not worried about Howard figuring it out. I'm worried about Howard changing the game to suit his whims," which is another topic of discussion. "But let's leave him out of the bedroom tonight." And every night.

Sousa helps pull Peggy to her feet and goes to tuck her arm in his, "Getting old is better than getting dead? Besides, I like knowing that I have at least another forty years with you at my side. It gives me something long-term to look forward to."

*

"Mm… Forty years. Fifty at least. We're both too tough to die, you know that. But… getting old is still awful. I used to be able to take two international trips a week and be fine." Peggy is genuinely perturbed at just how tired she feels, but the teasing flirtation between them does seem to be helping. She keeps her arm wrapped through his and moves up for the stairs, letting him set their pace. She's not exactly in any sort of rush.

*

Sousa pretends to think a moment, "All right, fifty. I think I can manage that." He turns to smile at her as they slowly make their way upstairs. His gait is a little slower than when he had the crutch, mostly because he's still getting used to putting more weight on the prosthetic leg. "You also didn't have a five year old at home when you were doing that," Sousa points out. "I remember all-nighters to work on a case. Now, I'm lucky if I make it to midnight." Although he's conked out earlier than that many a time. "But I like the consolation prize. More time with you."

*

"Five years old… God, when did that happen." Peggy mutters, still a little in shock over this school thing. She doesn't mind taking the stairs slow in the least, a quiet ache across her body from long plane travel and constant tension. Slow and steady, bed with her husband the goa in the future.

Once they are up the stairs and past the door, she turns her head to kiss him before fully letting go so she can just strip. There is nothing appealing about it. She just wants out of clothes and into bed. She does, at least, pause long enough to stop and pull on a night gown despite the summer heat. Then she's moving straight for the bed, stretching out on her side, a happy little groan escaping her lips. "I missed this… missed you." She mutters, half asleep.

*

Sousa returns the kiss and lets Peggy go so he can go about his own evening ritual to get ready for bed. As the last motion, the prosthetic leg is removed and he lays back in bed, turning to wrap an arm around Peggy, "I missed you too. Go to sleep…" it's offered gently but firmly. He knows how exhausted she is and rather than taking the day to recover, she's promised to be back at work tomorrow. The more sleep she can get, the better.

Now, he may not sleep all that well, but that's mostly for worry over her.

*

By the time he's getting into bed, Peggy's already mostly out. She generally waits for him, but not tonight. His words and the wrap of his arm gets a drowsy, murmured, "…love you…" But she probably won't remember saying it in the morning. She just shifts her frame enough so that she's tucked against him and they're wrapped up all limbs and dark hair. Within a minute, her breath has evened out again, dead asleep and it's been much needed. At least one of them seems able to get sleep tonight.

*

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