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Coming home from work afforded them very little time to talk. That's okay, Michaela did all the talking for both of them, in truth. Since Peggy got home, the young girl has been more than happy to rattle on every single detail of everything that's been missed, never failing to bring up the fact that some sort of animal has been promised at some point in the near future. Peggy's never going to live that down. Dinner was had together as a family, Peggy content to dig deeply into Daniel's cooking and eating her full share. His cooking always smelled great to her.
Now, it's after dinner, generally bed and bath time, but Peggy has curled up with Michaela on the couch downstairs with one of their new books. About halfway through, still both dressed from the day, mother and daughter could not be more alike as it seems they are BOTH on the verge of dropping into sleep, the question will be just who gives into closing their eyes first. Peggy's slightly winning by way of the fact that she's still managing to read the story, a drowsy page at a time, as Michaela buries deeper into her side and lets her eyes close without fighting them back open.
*
Sousa washed the dishes while Peggy read the story to Mickey and he finished just before the story did. Limping out of the kitchen towards the living room, he pauses to lean against the wall and just watch the idyllic scene domestic scene. When he notes Peggy also beginning to nod off, he makes his way to them, "Come on…I can't carry you both upstairs," is offered quietly even as he bends down to lift Mickey into his arms.
Bathtime will be skipped this evening as there's no need to wake the girl up for that.
"You all right? How are you feeling?" He was glad to see her eat so much at dinner, especially since she didn't have much of an appetite before. Now they both know why! "And I'm impressed that you're still evading the pet question."
*
"I am a world-class spy, Daniel Sousa. If I can't manage to dance around the interrogations of a five year old, I don't know how I've kept my job. Even if she is one of the most… fierce negotiators I've yet to meet." Peggy mutters drowsily, a wry smile crossing her lips, probably quietly proud of their daughter's stubborn determination about the whole issue. No matter how annoying it might end up getting. She's about to offer to take Mickey, but catches herself and just, ever so gently, shifts her arms upwards so Daniel can easier get the little drowsy one against his hip.
Once Peggy is freed from the sleeping girl, she unfolds from the couch herself and stands up slowly. She's learned, especially half asleep, not to take things too fast. No need to end up back on her ass on the couch. "I… I'm fine. Glad you caught us before we were both out." She responds to the question far more lightly than he probably intended to ask it, but she never was good at admitting she was anything but. At least eating did happen. She trails with him towards upstairs, there as a quiet, steadying presence, ready to help if he needs any balance, but she trusts him to handle daughter and cane as needed.
*
Mickey is still light enough that Daniel can support her mostly with one hand. It helps that the girl wraps her arms around her father's neck and holds on, even though she's still mostly asleep. Yet another reason why he's dealing with the discomfort of the new leg. Otherwise, he'd have to let Peggy take the growing girl. "None of those spies have been your daughter though," Daniel points out with a grin. "She knows how to find all the buttons." Vice versa, though.
As they climb up the steps slowly, he offers, "I figured you probably didn't want to sleep on the couch and you know I can't bear to wake you when you're sleeping." They both sleep so little, even now, that any of it is necessary and blissful. Even if they ever get to go on that vacation, there will be no sleeping in with a five year old. There's another smile though as he adds, "Are you purposefully evading my question?" They got a doozy of a surprise.
*
The sight of Daniel carrying the girl, enabled by his new leg, is enough to make Peggy smile. She didn't question his willingness to do it, but actually having the ability is enough to make something in her happier than it's been in a long time. Especially as little fists curl around the back of his neck and find trusting purchase against her daddy's side. If Peggy had any questions about them having another child, simply *watching* that dulls them to whispers. "…you're such a good father." Peggy murmurs behind him, seemingly out of no where, but the line of thought made sense in her head.
While there may be more conversation about daughters being harder than spies, his question of her evading completely draws her attention as they hit the upper floor. Peggy blinks in earnest innocence, "I told you I'm fine… I… thought that was an answer. What am I evading?" Her mind genuinely might not have processed the second part of that question. It's simply not a thing she's often asked or bothers to think about. Or maybe she's evading. It's hard to tell, sometimes. She'll follow him down the hall, jogging ahead just a bit so she can get to her daughter's bed and pull down the sheets so all he'll need to do is slip her right in. If they can manage this without waking Mickey, it'll be a true success.
*
Sousa doesn't really know how to respond to the murmured compliment but he turns his head to offer a very appreciative smile. He's not the best at taking compliments like that — he can hit back when confronted with insults or sarcasm, but genuine appreciationis harder. There will be a 'thank you' in there too, eventually.
When she insists that she's fine, Daniel just lets it go. For now. No need to get into a discussion when they're trying to get Mickey into bed. It's a well-rehearsed dance, one of them taking lead one night and then switching, depending on who is putting the girl to bed and who is the favored parent du jour. With Peggy's help, he makes it into the bedroom without incident but he does need to reach out and grab the headboard of the bed as he lays the child down unless he wanted to fall over on top of her.
That would most assuredly wake her up. He then steps aside so that Peggy can do the tucking-in.
*
The familiar dance is comforting. A reminder of the things they haven't had time to think about in the last too-long. It's not a vacation, but it's a step in the right direction. Peggy leans over but, possibly to his surprise, she shifts into kiss the corner of his mouth first before turning to then lean down and pull up the sheets across her daughter's still half asleep frame. "…Good night, my love…" She whispers gently, tucking in the sheet an ever-so-lightly kissing the dark curls on her forehead. Then Peggy is standing up straight and creeping out of the bedroom with Daniel before they DO wake Mickey up just for looking the wrong direction. Some nights it's easier than others.
Once they are both in the hall, Peggy does the dance of shutting the door as quietly and slowly as possible, not even wishing wind to shift wrong in the girl's room. Sneaking past a sleeping five year old was also decidedly harder than creeping into a HYDRA base. But it seems they are successful tonight, even if Peggy is now WIDE awake for the experience. WEll, mostly awake, her own curly hair is still mussed and most of her make up gone from the day. "…How's the leg holding up? You managed that quite smoothly."
*
Sousa was a little surprised by the kiss, but it just gets another smile from him as he watches Peggy tuck their daughter in. This is bliss. Not doing paperwork, not chasing Nazis, not throwing bad guys in technologically enhanced prisons. Being at home and going through these little rituals and knowing they are all safe and happy. Best feeling in the world.
He creeps as best as he can, which isn't too shabby. He may not have the mobility that most do, but he still had the training and skills of a SHIELD agent. It's in his blood, now. He takes a few steps into the hall before turning back at the question, "That doctor was right…even if her methods of diagnosis is a little, uhm. Forward. It's not the most comfortable thing. The movement's better than the other one, but…" sacrifices are made. "I don't even know if it's possible to add more padding and still have it work right."
He does, however, reach back with a hand to try and take her's. "So," it's his own change of subject, "Think we should turn the Guest Room into a nursery?"
*
No matter how scared or overwhelmed she MIGHT be feeling, this was all reminders of why they do it. Perhaps it's why she's taking her time tonight, just remembering to savor what actually matters in life. It's centering, if nothing else. She alows her fingertips to lace through his, lingering in the hall there, not quite certain if they are going back down stairs or just to the bedroom, but she seems content with simply being able to touch him. And not talking about work. That was an odd relief. Her thumb traces lazy, slow lines up and down the side of his palm.
"She's… quite capable, as a doctor. If anyone could do it, she could. It's… worth trying. Mobility with pain isn't worth it. This is about having a life, Daniel… Not making sacrifices. We'll talk to her. And Howard. We're not going to settle on this, alright?" When it wasn't about her, the prospects of seeing a doctor were FAR easier than when it was rather more personal.
But, of course, he does bring it back to that. She settles in a bit closer against him, a slow smile crossing her lips, "…In a few months, I… think that'd be a lovely idea. Mickey keeps her room. That'll make things easier for… all of us. Guests can be on the couch." Easier to talk about housing logistics than thinking of why she has said to delay a few months. They need to make it that far, first, in her mind.
*
Sousa is, however, a bit tired of seeing doctors. Spending nearly a year in a hospital will do that to one. He gives a brief grimace, but allows her this. "That might be interesting. To see the doctor and Howard go at it. Although…I hope she's not easily seduced." He would -not- like to see that! "I have a life, Peggy, and I'm more than happy with it. I don't need to climb Mount Everest," although he's stubborn enough that if he wanted to, he would.
There's a nod when she gives a timeline, "Let's keep this to ourselves, huh? At least until those few months are up." He knows the superstitions and he knows that there could be complications. "I know it's not going to be easy, but if you need help," at work, especially, "I'm there."
*
For tonight, Peggy doesn't push about the leg or Howard. It might be a reflection of just how tired she is that she's just not rising to the occasion right now. She'd rather just lean with him and enjoy what quite moments they are managing to steal. His comment about waiting a few months, however, gets a rather immediate nod. He knows her well enough to see the traces of heart-deep fear behind her eyes. She's not a woman who is accustomed to being delicate in any way and, right now, she knows she is. It's terrifying. "…A few months, at least. Fury knows. He… damn that man, he can read me almost as good as you can. But no one else. It'll just be… better, all things considered. Just until we really know…" She doesn't finish that statement. She can't bring herself to say it.
As he offers that help, she sighs, leaning forward a bit more to half press against him. He might be wise to tug her towards the bedroom, because right now she's just going to keep him close in the hall, not thinking beyond the next few seconds. "…I know you are there. I… I take your help all the time already, if you haven't noticed, love… I don't exactly give you a light case load in favouritism."
*
It's a little early yet, but Sousa will lead Peggy towards the bedroom. If anything, maybe she can get a little extra sleep tonight. He holds her close, though, enjoying the moment, "I trust Fury not to talk. He seems like that sort of man." Not that he knows him all that well, but the man's war record and SHIELD record speak volumes. He opens the door to their room and ushers Peggy towards the bed before she collapses.
"I know you know and I know you don't show favoritism." That gets a grin, "But you know what I mean." This doesn't seem to be a night to talk about work. Instead, he moves so that he can take both her hands in his and look at her straight in the eye, "This baby is going to be fine. I feel it. It's you and me and we're about as stubborn and tenacious as it gets…I'd be surprised if it didn't have to be coaxed out in," he thinks for a moment, "Eight months or so by promises of puppies."
*
Peggy is more than happy to walk close and slow, half wrapped up against him, not exactly leaning on him but both of them sharing weight and space. Her head drops a little, pressing cheek to the top of his shoulder, even as they move into the bedroom. "I trust Fury with all of our lives. He won't say a word. And he'll help you murder anyone who looks in the wrong direction. And knows where to put the bodies." Peggy's tone of conversation about Fury isn't that of a work colleague but a dear, soul deep old friend.
Still, it's close enough to work that she's more than happy to drop that part of the discussion. Especially when he turns her enough that they can look straight at each other. What he says next, true or not, it's probably exactly what she *needed* to hear, by evidence of the sudden glassiness which hits her eyes. She takes in a slightly deeper breath against suddenly tight throat. "…You… you really think so? God, Daniel, how… this wasn't supposed to happen. Everything is… completely wrong about this timing. I don't know how to *fix* this. How to make things… better. Certain."
*
Sousa just gives Peggy's hands a gentle squeeze as her eyes begin to mist up. His might as well and he clears his throat, "I think so. I really do. We aren't the only couple in the world to have perfectly fine babies at our age. People have been doing it for eons." Ok, maybe not, but maybe so! "And now we're aware of it and we know that we might need to take it a little…easier." There's a wry chuckle at her mention of the timing, "Is this stuff ever timed right? We have good people on our side, Peg. You don't need to babysit these Nazis personally." He then lifts one hand and then the other to give her knuckles a kiss, "We make it certain by waiting. By trying not to get too stressed. By eating healthy, like the doctor said. I'll add another bottle of milk to our daily order." He even offers a smile, "There's nothing to fix. Nothing's broken."
*
The kisses against her knuckles only serve to help the tears slightly hasten themselves. Actually reacting to the news, well, hasn't been able to happen since they pretty much heard. She's a strange mix of hopeful and terrified, which is a bit better than the shock of things the first time around. She gives a weak laugh, "…hell, at least now we know we're good parents. We halfway know what we're doing. That's… that's good." Not like dear Mickey, where they were stumbling along blind for most of it, just trying not to completely muck things up.
She squeezes his hands a bit tighter, not quite letting go yet. A bittersweet smile pulls at her lips, "I'm… very good at saying I'll take things easy. And I'll try… I will try, but even last night, I was late because some woman put down half a dozen of our agents in the alley outside of HQ. I was right there in the fight. I don't know how to NOT be right there. And I…I know I can't. I shouldn't. I…" She takes in a deep breath, forcing herself to stare straight at his gaze, to own up to her own demons, "I… just don't want to fuck this up, Daniel. I'm so scared *I* will." It's not language that is used often in this house hold, but sometimes it needs said.
*
"What are you talking about? We're great parents!" Sousa grins. They've also learned the juggling act between work and family, although that could get a little better. It's all a work in progress. "And Mickey should be old enough to help," which is also a plus.
When she talks about why she was late though, Daniel's smile fades. "I know you don't know how to not be there. In it all. Maybe…think of the baby? Maybe…take up strategic positions behind cover?" He's not telling her to sit in her office and send others out. He's not telling her to think of the family. Just the baby.
*
His insistance about them being great parents does genuinely make her smile, a light chuckle brushing her lips, but she doesn't disagree. She tugs him a bit closer and into a kiss, deep, but not in a way that is about making more children. A kiss that's meant to show just how much she appreciates every last thing he's doing, the support, the cheering. How much his being solid as a rock means to her. How much she loves him. She lets the kiss linger a bit longer than strictly necessary before finally breaking and letting go of his hands. She's going to get out of this suit once and for all.
"…I… I am thinking about the baby. Every bloody second. But then things happen and I'm just in work mode and… I need to get better about that." Peggy murmurs a bit quieter. At least she's gotten better at accepting her faults in the last decade or so. She begins to unbutton her suit jacket, tossing it over the back of her vanity chair. Her skirt comes a moment later. It's sloppy, but she just wants out of the clothes and into something more comfortable. Her camisole comes off a heartbeat later and then she's just standing in under things, her assets clear and, though there are no other changes, they are definitely a touch more… Generous than before.
*
Sousa is more than happy to be pulled into that kiss. He wraps his arms around her and even lifts one to tousle her hair even more. No baby-making, but it's the kiss of two people still very much in love with each other and all that means. He finally lets her go and moves to sit on the bed to rest some himself.
"Want me to write you little notes everywhere? You open your desk drawer and there's a note: 'Think about the baby!' You pull out your gun, there"
*
Sousa is more than happy to be pulled into that kiss. He wraps his arms around her and even lifts one to tousle her hair even more. No baby-making, but it's the kiss of two people still very much in love with each other and all that means. He finally lets her go and moves to sit on the bed to rest some himself.
"Want me to write you little notes everywhere? You open your desk drawer and there's a note: 'Think about the baby!' You pull out your gun, there's a note, 'Think about the baby!' You get some tea or answer the phone…" he doesn't go on too much longer. It's mostly meant as a joke.
She gets an appreciative glance before he asks, "Are we going to bed now?" Or back downstairs? Or maybe just listening to the radio upstairs? He isn't sure he wants to ditch the leg for the crutches if he'll be navigating the stairs again.
*
The commentary about the baby notes gets Daniel an strong, skeptical arch of her brow and a rather deeper smirk. This is not a joke he's QUITE getting away with. "I have a feeling the office of *spies and intelligence officers* we work with might figure out what is going on a little quicker than we prefer should we do that. I… I think I'll just work on actually remembering massive changes happening in life and see how that goes." She mutters with a little chuckle.
The appreciative glance gains a different kind of smile, more appreciative and just a touch blushing. She slips out of her bra and finally steps over to the bed, grabbing at her more comfortable, black and pink patterned satin night gown. Pulling it on alone is a heavenly experience. "…Mm… If we go to bed, I will be asleep in ten minutes… But you're probably quite awake. I can stay up, if you like… I feel like we should be doing SOMETHING the first night she was in bed before nine." She does settle into sitting on the bed next to him, though.
*
"You think that our office full of spies will spy on the Director? Just think of how surprised you'll get to pretend to be when they all throw you a massive Baby Shower!" Sousa grins but lets her decide how to think about things and reorganize priorities. If she thinks of it, more than likely, she'll remember it.
His eyes follow her as she pulls on her nightgown but he doesn't move to change yet. His tie and jacket were ditched earlier and he knows that walking around in his skivvies isn't the most pleasant of sights. "Well…Mickey has a new board game. Is the Ed Sullivan show on? We could watch that…" He blinks innocently as if there's nothing on earth the two could do. "We could eat her ice cream that's in the freezer."
*
Somehow, it's the innocent blink that gets her. She wasn't quite there before, but just seeing that look in his eyes, well, Peggy Carter has never had conventional tastes. She reaches up, grabbing at the buttons of his shirt and slowly undoing them, one at a time, with her left hand. The look in her eyes is unmistakable and suddenly hungry. Not for ice cream. "Or… you know… I could rather ensure that you are exhausted enough to sleep. And we don't need to go anywhere for that… and a jimmie isn't… exactly necessary now." Maybe not the *most* seductive words on the planet, but between a couple that's been married for a decade, sometimes just breaking the routine can be incredibly energizing.
She finally frees the last button of his shirt and then she's up on her knees, pushing against him a bit harder as she slips his shirt down off of his well muscled arms, fingertips hungry for bare skin. Unless he protests, they aren't going to leave the bedroom the rest of the night. Even if sleep comes much, much later..
*