1963-11-01 - Maximum Optimal Recruiting
Summary: Peggy has a proposition for Wanda, if only she can get past the hourly requirements.
Related: N/A
Theme Song: None
wanda peggy 


Mid day on a Tuesday. Nothing *overly* exciting except for the fact that they still have two prisoners in cells, one of which they really have nothing on but want the leverage on the other, so Peggy's been staying close to the office. A note has been left with Wanda to come check in when the woman has a few minutes, no rush. Peggy tries to touch base with her new agents on a semi-regular basis, just part of being a good director. This is probably one of those meetings.

This afternoon, Peggy is behind her desk not actually writing, for once. She's reading a whole slew of reports, some of them SHIELD files but the pattern on a lot of the folders are from an outside agency — FBI probably. How she got them? Who knows. She's in one of her newly altered suits which fits better than the button popping pants before but, somewhat frustratingly, means it's near impossible to hide the fact that yes, she's expecting. Everyone seems to be silently ignoring it around the office. Maybe it's healthier that way. She takes another sip of her tea before flipping a page in the file.

*

Some things cannot be hidden however much a person might wish it were so. The damning stamp of pregnancy goes right along with tattoos or albinism, an Eastern European accent or joining the Mousketeers. If this is a test of Wanda's character, the fact she shows up in her habitual attire rather than any sort of suit might be a failing mark. Also a failing mark, that she says nothing immediately about freshly tailored suits to fit a changing body. It falls upon her to look back once at the departing agent who escorted her this far, and leaves the young woman in company of the director. No doubt Peggy can chew her to pieces before she gets a word in edgewise. Coffee banter is unlikely to involve this meeting, no?

Hands in the pockets of that lovely claret coat falling to the lower thigh, Wanda waits on the woman without saying so much as a word. Her heavy-lidded gaze still shows the effects of living an absolutely topsy-turvy existence, quasi-nocturnal by any account. The smudges under her eyes betray the lack of suitable sleep, but on the other hand, she doesn't look quite so gaunt. Either someone has been feeding herself properly or America's tendency to fill people out when they arrive on its bountiful shores is proven again.

*

There is no vitriol in Peggy's voice as she idly comments, "Shut the door behind you. Might as well have some privacy. Spies like to nose in on things that aren't their business — who knew?" Peggy comments that last bit dead pan enough it might not be a joke, but a smile twitches across her ever-red lips a heartbeat later. She nods the not-so-gaunt girl into the chair across from her, finishing reading the last paragraph she was studying and then folding shut the file and turning those dark eyes back up to their new recruit. Her smile is genuine, if tired also. Probably not quite so tired as Wanda.

"Miss Maximoff. How are you settling in? I know I've not exactly had much time to guide you through things and I'm sorry for that. I keep thinking maybe things will eventually calm, but I should know in my old age they won't. Still…you've had your time to think through things. Watch things. See a bit of how we work. What are your thoughts?" This genuinely does not seem to be any sort of meeting where Wanda will be getting in trouble. Peggy might be a hard ass, but she's not a bad director. The tone of her voice is one of someone who actually does care for her people.

*

The door given a gentle little nudge by the heel of Wanda's boot shuts with a click. Her movements have a spare quality to them, using only the minimal amount of energy rather than expansive flamboyance all around. The smile is met with a look of flat consideration through slightly narrowed eyes, the habitual look of every young person ever to have graced the Earth, barring the trust fund children or those charmed souls with bunny rabbits and butterflies accompanying them anywhere. When given direction, she takes a few steps forward and pauses, not quite at parade rest and not slouching. The in between point marks her as wary, but not unkindly disposed. A shut door in a government agency has her on tenterhooks, her heels barely touching the ground.

"You are an important person," she says, dipping her head to Peggy. "You have things to do. I am not important or doing work for you." Thus is the way of the world, an ashen realm of no absolutes but a definite hierarchy. "The people at Central Park did a good job. They were asked to do a very hard job at risk of their lives. Most people do not stay where demons and living darkness go, but they chose to. I am not sure why. If they could be killed, or worse, what keeps them there?"

*

"Sit. Relax. Truly, please… And you are doing work for me, technically. Any time you are here, watching, learning in the field…that's work for me. I meant it when I said I hoped you and your brother would become good agents. I still have that hope." Peggy's voice is doing it's very best to be as relaxed and calming as possible as she can just read the tension and discomfort on the young woman's body. She leans back in her own chair, trying to project being at ease, even if there is something about Peggy Carter that is always ready to work, go, always alive and thinking two steps ahead. She can't shut it off.

"Every person at this agency has signed up to go into situations no one else should — just SO no one else has to. We know the dangers, even if we don't always understand them. I'm glad they did a good job… would you care to give me a full report? I'm curious to hear your side of it… I heard you helped also, actually." The smile that Peggy holds now brushes with a bit of pride in Wanda. She's heard things already, it seems. Peggy has ears everywhere.

*

The chair will serve well enough. Pushing her chestnut hair behind her ear, Wanda circles around the front and takes a seat. Her legs are rigidly together, hands resting flat atop them, palms down. A comfort, supposing one knows what she can do, at least the rumours. Some of those rumours are confirmed in the scorched ashes and banished demons, and at least Agent Croon can speak to seeing her directly in action. Her thoughts shielded behind her veiled eyes, she listens to Peggy, without too much complaint. There isn't any hint of twitching or tapping, any fingernails rapping on any the arm of her chair. Her back is too straight, a side product of the corset worn beneath her coat.

"They still held when the dead walked among them. Human dead, their dead. Consider that goes against all they hold dear, it would be a reason to run. I would not blame them. I would understand if they could not hold to their place, but they tried." Her tawny eyes narrow further in scrutiny of the heroism of a casual man, in a SHIELD uniform, fighting against supernatural terrors. Several moments pass before she speaks again. "I told Agent Cassidy about the park." She sidesteps right into German, given her facility there is superior in technical terms to English. "I spent the better part of a week exclusively tracking down the spillover from the gateway to the infernal dimension. Several reached as far as Hell's Kitchen, another into the area north of Midtown. They were driven by eldritch forces rooted in magic, very old and very powerful. The part I played in the final efforts to diminish and seal the gate, then banish the woman responsible for exploiting it as an energy source serving her own purposes was minor. Secondary, you must understand, to the practitioner leading us. My notes should include his name; Doctor Strange. I have an address, though if I may be a bit rude, Director? He likes tea. I can arrange a meeting. It would go over well to have a proper cup. He will appreciate the touches."

*

The Director listens to the whole report with a calm, respectful gaze of someone who is genuinely interested in the words. She sits up a bit straighter, unable to maintain that cool and calm, laid back look when she's actually hearing about the actions of her agents in the field, her hopeful agents, and an important ally. She dips her head in approval as Wanda comments about her trailing the things and assisting. "Whether you consider your part minor or not, the fact you were there, you were also willing to step up, to help…It says a lot. Because yes, our people will always step into that situation, whether they have…gifts or not. Giving them back up with people more capable or understanding of these strange things… Well, it helps everyone, in the long run.

The commentary about Strange makes Peggy half smile, half smirk, a bit wry at the thought. "Yes, I know Dr. Strange and his… capabilities. Most of them, at least. Though I do owe him a cup of tea and thanks, so… perhaps arranging that still wouldn't be a poor choice. I have been to his Sanctum twice… He's a good man, if a very dangerous one."

*

A nod follows the information. See, proof the Maximoff girl doesn't know everything or even a great deal. Her German is still far easier to manage in, even as she completely blows off and through the compliments. Wanda does not even see praise, let alone thank someone for it. Tick three more boxes for suspicion, paranoia, and bad upbringing. "The Doctor deserves credit for arranging the destruction of the portal. He reached for an alliance to limit the damage. The state of the trees…" For the first time emotion shows, a shadow torn at the upper edge of her copper kissed face, pulled down until it settles in her dark eyes and downcast mouth. "The earth is deeply wounded by these attacks. Grass killed, trees torn down, the soil possibly incapable of supporting much. I want to fix what I can. It might be easier to bring in soil but the park is rather big." She doesn't know the half.

Still, her shoulders rise and fall. "The Doctor cut the woman behind this off from her source, and sent her body away. She might yet live, in some way. Morgan Le Fay, for the record. That is her name. I had a hand in her death, though I am not certain it should have been so… easy." Wanda's eyebrows knot.

*

"If you wish to take on the Park as a project, I'll give you the support to do it. Another agent or two and we can see what funding we can redirect to it." Peggy seems honest in wishing to support this and happy to help the young, training up agent with an independent task. It's her way of rewarding initiative, most likely. She is definitely more interested in Wanda than she is hearing about the doctor, but maybe she knows enough about Strange already? Or, more likely, her agents are her priority. As ever.

Then the commentary comes about Morgan Le Fay and both slender dark brows arch. She sits straighter, this information news to her so she's clearly on high alert. "…Do you think she faked her death and… escaped somehow? Please… explain more about this being too easy. I trust your instincts."

*

"I watched her drop to the ground, incapable of breathing. She had no pulse, no movement of her chest. Her magic vanished. Her body in every way seemed dead." Her eyes narrowed in thought, Wanda draws in a slow breath. Private consultation with her thoughts is far different with speaking to someone else about them, especially one capable of making decisions and taking action with meaningful outcomes. The chair creaks as she adjusts her position, and her shoulders tighten a little. Wanda chews the inside of her cheek a few moments. "She is Morgan Le Fay. The woman of the stories, the great enemy of Merlin and King Arthur, his round table of knights. If she is a thing of legend, one woman and iron powder should not kill her. Even though you or I or the man at a bus stop would die inhaling it… it was not drawn out. It was so fast. I think she could have enough power to make an illusion, or have some kind of protection that keeps her from dying. There are ways. Some creatures, some people in our stories, they truly are immortal. Destroy the body or burn them and they will not die. Something specific might be needed? I don't know. I know only I have made an enemy when she comes back. If she comes back."

The tone of her voice leaves no doubt whatsoever that the younger woman believes it's not even a matter of time, but all but expected.

*

Peggy listens completely silently, memorizing words, but also reading the expressions on Wanda's face, drinking in far more of the situation than simply the statements she is speaking. Peggy finally nods in acceptance at the end of Wanda's speech, her lips set in a slightly worried line. "Well…enemy or not, you also have strong friends. You know we will back you up any time you feel in danger. We'll also start a file on this Morgan Le Fay and see what deeper research we can get on her. But…"

A breath, and Peggy gives a softer smile again, "I'd rather you worry about focusing on a rewarding project. We'll fret over the mess that is this woman. I meant it, about the park. If you want to lead up a small team to focus on getting it back and healthy, I think it'd be a good thing for you. And the other agents who have been going through literal hell there on a nightly basis."

*

Wanda's turn to go silent is equally as wooden as the first time around, even if she has the advantage to know she is being heard. Fair play to keep her mouth shut and pay heed, attentive to the recommendations and the message buried beneath the surface. At least she is somewhat mindful for it, biting her lower lip between her teeth. "Yes," she says slowly, back to English. "I am not good at fixing. Not always. It is easier to break or hide something so it cannot break. The park is important to the city. Would people like to repair it? To help with the damage?" There could be altogether more to ask on that front, but she raises her shoulders and drops them again.

"Going 'through hell' is what I know to do. It is still awful. But it keeps the dead and the demons from reaching others. Maybe this gives balance."

*

"I know you haven't had a chance to help build or fix things before…and you've had far too many chances at going through hell for someone your age. I'd like to give you a chance at the former. So…your assignment for the next two days is to put together a plan on what you want to do to rebuild the park. Feel free to go out again, do more recon on exactly what it might need. I'll send another agent with you if you do not wish to be alone. You'll have access to our files and Heather, my secretary, if you need to look up prices or locations to buy supplies. Figure out how long you think it will take, the tools and the people you need to do this. Do you think you are up for it?" Peggy asks, though it's the first question that she's not totally giving genuinely, as she pretty much knows the answer. She's just trying to coach the girl into speaking up for herself and taking one shred of confidence.

*

Look up prices? Supplies? Peggy probably just hit upon the horror of horrors to the brunette, whose eyes widen and then narrow, perplexed as her face becomes. "I…" Right, not about to argue with Peggy, Wanda nonetheless stares at the toes of her boots. "I don't know where you buy things like flowers. Plants. Things that fix trees. Your secretary knows these things?" Surely there must be someone. Otherwise there might be a pile of holes in the ground, a small bonsai from Chinatown, and the witch staring confounded at all those puddles and trenches. There is such a massive difference between imagining and doing, however, one she will be puzzling over for quite some time.

"I can try. What I do not know, I will ask." Can't ask for much more than that, right? "I will still need to hunt in Hell's Kitchen. Vampires. They have not gone away with the portal. I met one of the agents there, and he was able to do something. Croon? Yes. But there are larger ones, possibly, and those I will watch and report on." Friends come with flamethrowers, right?

*

"Yes. Heather can absolutely help you with these things. But figuring out how much damage is there, how much space needs filled, and if the soil can actually maintain life or not… That will be your job. I am confident you can do it and, yes, anything you don't know….You have resources here to help learn." The commentary about hunting makes Peggy frown, her shoulders settling back down into her chair again and expression going a touch more thoughtful. "You may also patrol, but I don't want you doing it alone. I'll officially sanction you as a Junior Agent, if you wish to be one now. Take a partner. No one goes into the field alone, not when things are still dangerous. That's how people disappear."

The tone of Peggy's voice is clipped and firm enough that it sounds like she's quite made up her mind about this issue, she's not going to be swayed. But she did also just offer Wanda an official job and title, which is probably a good sign.

*

No doubt the precursor of the spreadsheet, the dreaded graph and clipboard, will stand in good stead. That much she will have to learn about, this girl who has nothing so much as a card with her name on it. Her nod follows there, since she knows better than to dispute authority. Oh, they can flout it, the twins. Him more than her, but Pietro usually isn't quite so subversive as his magic-able sister. "Do I pick a partner myself? Do they pick me? Do I show them the plastic picture to make them listen to me?" Suddenly so many questions! Does she get a health plan? Probably unnecessary; there aren't any obvious wounds for someone who keeps encountering beasts, fortunately.

Agent Croon probably reported that, too, and her methods of hiding away from the infirmary are fairly legion.

*

"I pick your partner. Or, well, whomever is making the schedules. It's like any job, you have proper reporting hours which you have to work. If you elect to work outside those hours, that is your option, but we are all salaried here so there is no overtime. I still think you will find the salary more than enough." Peggy gives a simple smile to that, almost looking forward to the look on the girl's face when she realizes she'll start at 15,000 a year and it just goes up from there. "Your partner doesn't *have* to listen to you, you are no one's superior at the moment, but you work *together*, assisting each other and giving back up where needed. There will be more basic training. You will be in the same cohort as Ava, if you have met her yet. In fact…you two might work very well together."

The wheels are turning behind Peggy's eyes now, as the director plays the careful chess game of personality, power sets and how best to teach new agents while ensuring they are also still effective in the field and not making things too easy for them. Her tea has been entirely forgotten now, ice cold anyway at this point. She's also probably forgotten to eat today, according to the sudden loud rumble that her stomach gives. She clears her throat, trying to ignore it.

*

That rumble is more a requirement for attention than anything else; it pulls Wanda's gaze back towards Peggy. "Pietro would yell at me to get a sandwich," she says, and pushes her chair back. "Are there some? Or do you like something else? I will go and find it, it is good to know where the food is." You might not have another meal before the director chews on someone. Still, the questions grind away in her head, and leave a lingering film over the possibilities. "I am not used to… reporting hours. I have never had hours. I do what needs to be done as long as it has to happen. Are the hours at least… they move?" Flexible, she does not have the necessary language needed there. Gah, English, why must you be so difficult? Nonetheless, the avant garde upbringing that Wanda experienced hits her in the face hard right about now. "I have magic to practice and study as well." Her hands wrung once is not so much out of agitation as surrounding the itch that lingers in there. "That duty I cannot put down, Director. The magic and making sure I can use it, and safely, is important. People may be hurt if I am not educated well. Do you have other junior agents who are doing things with training and school? Or would it be too different to allow it to be possible? You can change the money. I don't use much anyways."

No; she's not a robber. She eats hardly anything, she is used to sleeping rough, and fairly said, Wanda isn't exactly harbouring the spiffiest wardrobe. But her mage robes are really neat! See, she's even wearing them. "I can at least bring the unusual skills to help. I do not fear hard work. Or too much."

*

A slight tsk is given at the comment of a sandwich and Peggy waves it off casually, "In a bit, I'll find something. Don't worry about it. After we're done speaking I'll get lunch. I promise." Peggy clearly does NOT want a deal made out of this. She looks a bit annoyed at her own body for protesting when she's clearly working. But then she is happy to move on as they are going back to the work discussion.

"Yes, there are a few other junior agents who are still studying. We can manage this. Alright. I want you to write down for me the things you need — Time, scheduling, how often you are studying — and I will take it into consideration before we offer you a formal contract. So… get that together for me and we'll talk again soon. You are dismissed, Wanda. It was good talking." Peggy seems to think it's probably best she DOESN'T negotiate a new hire on her grumbling stomach.

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