1963-08-07 - Confessing to the Director
Summary: Jess makes her confession to Peggy about just what happened with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jess peggy 


Sunday. Almost *never* is Peggy in the office on a Sunday. She does have a husband and they do have a very young daughter who already doesn't get to see her parents enough. Sunday is the sacred day. The day for family. Sundays are not for work. But today? With 16 bodies in the morgue, SHIELD agents on the news and New York City scared? Director Carter is in the office on a Sunday. Messages were sent out to both Jess and Miles to report in as soon as possible.

Now, she's waiting. Waiting for reports. Waiting for any other emergency calls. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. She's sitting behind her desk, an array of files out in front of her. 17 of them, in fact. 16 for the dead and the 17th, thicker file, for everything she has about the scene so far. She looks tired, drawn even, and unhappy. She's drinking coffee instead of tea, which should say something about how the night went. Despite the heat, she's not removed her dark blue suit jacket because this is not going to be a casual conversation.

*

The first weekend after Jess was brought on, someone actually had to explain to her that people don't come into the office on Saturday and Sunday. The second weekend, she still came and trained because she wasn't convinced it wasn't some sort of joke. Apparently HYDRA training doesn't take a lot of breaks.

She didn't actually need to be called after the events of the previous night. She showed up at HQ pretty much right after, ready to make her report. So there's that, at least, for being raised by terrorist spies. So when the call comes from Peggy's office, it only takes about a minute for her to show up at the door, closing it carefully behind herself. "Ma'am."

*

Of course, HQ isn't TOTALLY empty on the weekends — a skeleton crew mans this place 24/7. But they do respect agent's lives and, once in rotation, an agent is only expected to work a single weekend out of the month. It works for everyone. Now, however, there's a lot of tired eyes, busy phone calls, someone talking to the press in attempts to cover up all this masked vigilante stuff, and it's more busy than most Monday mornings.

Pegyg nods as Jess comes into her office, "Shut the…" She doesn't even need to ask, it seems. They are left in the relative silence of her office compared to the chaos of the front area. The scent of strong, burnt coffee fills the place. Peggy has no clue how to make coffee. She nods towards the chair across from her. "…Before I start asking…any questions… I would like a full report." The director demands, stiff and cool.

*

Jess glances to the chair, awkward for a split second before she goes to lower herself carefully into it. "We- Well." She pauses, a moment, then starts over. "I went out. Just looking for things. Problems. Agent Morales was apparently keeping tabs on me. So he was there when I got a tip that something was happening on that side of town. We hurried to get there, but the bomb was already timing down. We didn't have time to stop the explosion, but Agent Morales and I were able to use some vehicles to create cover from the shrapnel, then commenced rescue operations. Once emergency services started to show up, we retreated."

Well, it all seems true, at least. Whether or not it's the whole truth is less clear.

*

A slow breath and Peggy tilts her head, red lips pulling into a bit of a tighter line as she looks down at the bigger case file in front of her which she's started and has been adding to as more reports pour in from the front office. She grabs the black and white photo of the trio and turns it around, sliding it across the desk in Jess' direction. "I am curious about your tip. We're not reporters, Jessica, you don't get to protect your sources. But I'm also curious about your other ally." And there is a glaring circle in red pencil around Daredevil's head in the photo. A note at the bottom of the file simply says 'Unknown.' She rests that all in front of Jess.

While Peggy is a very good boss, an excellent director, and actually generally liked by most of the staff, she can be quietly terrifying in her own way as well. This is one of those times. Peggy is tired and, even more so, angry that her city has been so awfully violated. She's angry that people are dead. She's angry that her agents are withholding information. And while Jess isn't exactly getting the full brunt of that anger, there is that feeling in the air. Peggy is a rather terrifying woman at this moment.

*

"That…is an asset I'm developing." Also not entirely true. Ugh, friends make life complicated. Then again, Jess staged a one-person assault on SHIELD headquarters to rescue someone she cared about, so it can't be a complete surprise that she's reluctant to fold on this one.

"They call him Daredevil, or the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. According to him, someone at the top of the mob pile recently went down, and the little fish are all scrambling now to see who comes out on top. That's where this came from, that's where some of the other chaos in the Kitchen's come from."

*

"Lie. He is not an asset." Peggy states flatly, no hesitation in her voice. She is not one for being deceived by her agents and Jess has picked the wrong night to slightly twist truths in order to suspect someone. "…He's…" Peggy's eyes narrow, studying the younger woman's face a bit deeper for just a heartbeat or two. "You consider him a friend." She finally concludes. Maybe the director doesn't have super powers but, damn, sometimes it felt like she did.

Once the woman has been called out on that, though, Peggy takes back the file and begins to scribble down a few more notes. "..Did the tip come from your *friend*, then?" Peggy's British tone clips out, unyeilding in the demand for every drop of information Jess has to give.

*

"Not yet, that's the developing part," Jess counters, though she does stiffen a bit. "Spies don't have friends." And that sounds like something she's been told more than once. There's a long pause at the last question, her jaw setting. "Yes," she finally answers. "He…heard it." For reason, it sounds like she means something other than he heard a rumor.

*

The comment about spies not having friends makes Peggy arch a brow. "…Weapons don't have friends. Spies… *Agents*, do. They have friends, and lovers, and family, and lives. We aren't just tools. I know you're still learning that, but it doesn't make it any different." While Peggy's tone is still icy and firm, there is something warmer about how much that concept matters to her. Letting her people be people is a large priority on her desk, even when she's angry at the world.

"…He…heard it?" Her head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing as she looks for more explanation because she can tell that it's more than street wise rumors that Jessica is discussing.

*

"He has enhanced hearing." Then again, so does Jess. She's tested well above the human norm when she's met with the scientists. So if he heard it, but Jess didn't? That's saying something. "Ticking down. Which is why we couldn't get there in time," she clarifies. "And part of why I believe he didn't have anything to do with it being set. Look, this is bad. This is what I joined up to stop. But it wasn't our fault, and it wasn't- We did everything we could to stop it, and when we couldn't, we did everything we could to mitigate the damage."

*

"Ah. Understood." Peggy takes in a deep, slow breath and forces herself to sit back in her chair. Some of the anger has now spent itself now that she's gotten a report from someone directly, not news papers and heresay. She closes her eyes a moment, breathing through that odd wave of nausea which hits just as her body steps back adrenaline and remembers to be a body again. It's been a long morning. But she's not going to puke in a garbage can in her office (well, at least, not in front of an agent.) So, another breath is taken through her nose an she carries on, "I don't think it was your fault. Or his. I never did. The newspapers like to villify anyone in a mask. It's part of fear. The same fear they feel about mutants. But… we also can't let this city be blown up by mobsters and I sure as hell am not going to spend another Sunday morning looking a bodies of sixteen dead people. GOOD people. Innocents, most of them, at least."

*

"Yes, ma'am," Jess agrees, nodding once. "I'm supposed to meet back with the Devil on Monday night. It sounds like he's got a finger on the pulse of these things. According to him, the local authorities are corrupt. Could be that with some support from an organization that's not…" Trailing off, she shrugs. "Well. Maybe if we work together, we can put a real stop to it."

*

"…I know he is someone you…may be friends with. I even hope you are. But, you understand we will need to meet with him. I, or Daniel. Someone, to vet him and to make certain YOU are safe around him too. You can't do this alone — that's not how being an agent works either. We are a team. A family." Peggy sits up after a heartbeat or two, a touch steadier and hopefully the momentary slump was hidden well enough beneath her I-Will-Cut-You professionalism. "I would like to work with him. If things go well, you can be the agent assigned to do such. Is that agreeable?"

*

"He was kind of a hard sell on taking help even just from me," Jess notes, a faint smile touching one corner of her lips. "So if you're going to meet with him, that may not be the argument you want to make. But I think that bomb might've been a wake up call, too," she adds, sobering. "If we hadn't been there…It would've been worse. I'll talk to him, set up a meet."

*

A gentle nod in understanding about the argument thing. Peggy writes down another note, constructing a profile on this man already, it seems. It's just her habit. One who has been a spy all of their lives, well, profiling comes before friendship. "Thank you. Keep me updated with how it goes. We're still tracing the victims, trying to see if their are any commonalities between all of them. Surely this was targetted — the mob, as you say — and not just a random act of violence."

*

"I've got a feeling he's got a whole lot more details that we don't know," Jess nods. "I'm not familiar with the criminal landscape here, but it sounds like he knows who the players are." She hesitates, looking back at the Director. "I'm sorry you had to come in for this," she says awkwardly. "I mean, I'm more sorry that it happened and that people died, but, you know."

*

The hesitation and that awkward, but kind statement is enough to pull some of the chill from Peggy's features. The director looks softer, for just a heartbeat, but probably more tired for it as well. She shakes her head quietly, "No, it's alright. It is the job. If we can ensure that another sixteen, or even another one person, isn't killed over this? It will have been worth it. This is what we all signed up for — evenings, weekends and all. Just means the times we get to go home and be with our families… It makes it all the more important." Peggy murmurs softly. While it might not be too public that she has one, most people in the office know she's married to Sousa. Even if one doesn't know, she still always wears her wedding band.

*

"Yeah, that makes sense." Jess rubs her hands together, letting out a breath. "It was good, though. I mean, bad that it happened. But good to be there to help. To make a difference. To get people out of that building. Agent Morales said we're not super heroes, but…Honestly, Director, I don't think that's true. People like us, we can do things that other people can't. We've got a chance to make a real impact. I want to keep doing that."

*

"…Agent Morales is right. Super heroes… well, they're in it to be… Something noticable. Heroes. For the press, and the glory… as they help people. We're here to do that, make a real impact. Change the world for the better and protect it from the super-threats that are out there. Which are getting worst by the day. So… I'm glad you're with us." Peggy gives her a slightly pale, but earnest smile. It's the most gentle thing that's passed through this office in 24 hours. "We will keep doing that. You and Morales worked well together. I'd like to keep you both as partners on this detail until it's seen through, is that acceptable?"

*

"Sure," Jess nods. "Seems like we've got a good match on the powers front. And he managed to follow me out without me seeing him, so." A smile quirks, equal parts sheepish and approving. "He's a good agent." Although there's a slight emphasis there on 'agent.' I.e., she expects him to do things by the book. Then again, since she's still learning the book…

*

"As will you be… when you get the hang of exactly what being an Agent means." It's really like Peggy is a mindreader sometimes. It can be unnerving. The director keeps that half smile on her lips and then drops her eyes back down to the desk of dead men and women in front of her. She says nothing for a few more moments, breathing out quietly as she stares at the pictures. "… Agent Drew, you are dimissed." And then, she adds quietly, "…make sure this doesn't happen again."

*

"I was trying to make sure it didn't happen in the first place," Jess grimaces as she stands, disappointed. "But I'll settle for keeping it from happening again. Thank you, Director." She dips her chin respectfully, then walks back out of the office, closing the door quietly behind herself again.

*

No more words, the Director does let the woman go to get back to family, friends, or possibly life on a Sunday, Peggy, however, doesn't move from her desk. She just stares down at two of the folders in front of her that lay open. A mother only about a decade younger than herself and her daughter, five. She watches those unseeing eyes from the black and white photo, ignoring the tightness in her throat.

*

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