1963-11-01 - Pastas and Three Piercings
Summary: New place! Not so great, but the good news is that Jack and Peg have come for dinner
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
peggy jack steve 


Soooooooooooooooooooooooo, okay it's better than nothing.

Steve Rogers had to move out of the Baxter Building and although it might have made sense to move somewhere else, he came back home. Not his literal home, that was razed a long time ago. His city: Brooklyn. Unfortunately, the place he can afford is sort of embarrassing.

But the American way isn't being negative, or whining about it. He tried to make it homey with some plants…and stuff. And he invited over Jack and his friend Peggy and Sousa. He's getting takeout, because no one wants to eat his cooking, unless they love spam and eggs.

*

The trouble with children is someone always has to be watching them. The Nanny wasn't often employed for the night and sometimes they can get her to stay late, but not this evening. So, Peggy's husband had to sadly bow out of the evening, but Peggy really was trying to repair whatever friendship she had left with Steve, so she's agreed to come. She stopped for a bottle of wine and a take out pie (she certainly is an awful cook, so much safer to buy things) and is now at the door. She knocks with her hand holding the wine bottle. "…Steve? It's Peg…"

*

Silent paces see a brunette waif woman shuffle up to the same door Peggy is already standing at. "…hiiii…?" it's more a question than a greeting. Underneath her arm she has tucked a potted cactus, small but green, and she manages a broad grin as she reaches out a hand towards Peggy almost too-enthusiastically, "Uh…" her lips quirk into a lopsided grin, "I'm Jack. You must be Peg?" Her eyebrows, and just a hint of mischief dances between her good humoured gaze. "It's good to meet you." A glance is given to the door, "I assume you knocked?"

*

"Hey ladies," Steve calls out from inside. "I'm almost ready. Sorry." He wanted to be there to show the place, but he got home late. Out adventuring, you see. Bein' a hero and all that. Cross apply that discussion he and Jack had recently.

But all is not hunky dory. A few days ago, Steve took a shot to the stomach with three quills from the Porcupine (no lie). Though not life threatening, they were extremely painful and his bandages keep popping open. As of now he's in the bathroom trying to get right again.

*

The brunette waif gains an arch of Peggy's brow, slight curious amusement in her older, dark eyes. There was NOTHING about Peggy that was waifish on a regular day — now, nearly six months gone with child — she's even further from that. She gives a slight smile. "Ah…yes. Considering I just announced it at the door, yes. I would be Peg. You….must be Jack…" And that's all she gets out by the time Steve calls through the door. She smirks with a chuckle, they still being left to stand in the hall.

"…Steven Grant Rogers, we are coming in. And if this door is locked, I will pick it open." Peggy calls through the door before trying the handle. Who locks a door in Brooklyn after all?

*

Jack grins at the voice calling through the door, and then nods once at Peg's reply, only to note, "And if your door is unlocked, that's probably violation of your renter's insurance — " her cheeks flush slightly. "Of course statistically that actually lowers your chances of a legitimate break in. People assume you have nothing worth taking OR that there's some catch and its entrapment." There's a pause. "The chances are something like ten percent of getting a break-in, which I'll note is five percent less than if you actually lock — " her cheeks hue a pale pink as she cast a glance towards Peggy. "Uh. I work in insurance," as if that explains everything.

*

"Yeah, yeah, come in," Steve says from down the hallway. When the ladies come in, well…it's interesting. There's some old carpet, dingy lighting, and the walls are yellow from cigarette smoke. There's a strong suspicion that when it gets colder there may be a pest problem, but Steve's voice sounds chipper enough. "I'll be there in just a second."

After about thirty seconds, Steve swoops in. "Sorry ladies," he says as he leans in to give Jack a kiss on the cheek and wrap an arm around her, before moving to give Peg a hug. "Where's Sousa?"

*

The woman's reply about policies, and percentages, well, it all gets a slightly wide eyed look from Peggy. She was lovely, yes. Surely she had better conversational skills? But Peggy keeps her smile in place and gives just a touch of a light laugh at the explanation. "Insurance. I see." A little nod and she pushes the door open to the place which was… Not what she expected either. Oh, Steve. She looks around, keeping that smile in place because keeping up appearances is important.

"This is… well… It's in the right neighborhood, and I'm sure you can do a bit more decorating, Steve." Peggy was never good at lying to him, so she doesn't. She smiles as she watches both of them and leans up for the hug, "The nanny couldn't stay, someone had to be home with Mickey. He does apologize. Maybe if it's a bit earlier in the night, we can bring her by too… But I didn't want to cancel. Here." SHe offers both the bottle and the pie, though now her eyes study him, trying to figure out exactly what the delay had been.

*

Jack leans into the arm, and a smile draws all of her features upwards at the contact. Her hand draws around him in a quick side-hug. The apartment is given a once over, and she nods slightly, "This reminds me of Galpalla," her cheeks automatically flush — the title isn't one that she uses outside the apartment itself, "… er.. I mean… my apartment. My roommates and I painted it days after moving in."

She brightens some as she issues the potted plant to him. "I thought, maybe a plant that didn't require much water would be wise. Too easy to let plants get neglected, unfortunately."

*

Steve reaches for the cactus and gives Jack another kiss on the cheek in thanks, "I love it." He moves quickly across the living room and sets it next to his worn recliner. It is clearly his favorite place in the apartment by how it doesn't match the decor and is literally duct taped in one spot.

Then he moves to take the bottle and the pie, "Thanks, Peg. It's not much and once I get a better income I'll be able to afford something nicer. I still have a large chunk from the military, but I don't think it's wise to spend good money after bad until I get more work for my art."

*

Now free of booze and food, Peggy shrugs out of her trench coat to reveal a dark emerald dress beneath. It's lovely, probably new, because it's certainly cut for her current lack of a waist line and more generous up top. It seems the director is expecting, despite the gray at the temples in her hair and lines around her eyes. Career women start late, perhaps. Or, just plan poorly. Either way, she steps farther into the room, giving an accepting smile, "…Maybe, if you're up for it… I can get you on some contracting work for SHIELD? Though I know you, maybe..don't want to go back to it at all. The offer is there." Jack gets a brow arch about Galpalla, slightly amused, but she nods, "if you and your friends might help Steve here, a coat of paint would, no doubt, do well." Oh Peggy, really, honesty isn't always the best trait.

*

Jack's gaze turns wide-eyed at Peggy's appearance, and almost immediately, she's motioning to the chair. "Ohmygoodness, did — " she pause and motions towards the seat " — surely you would want to have a seat. Possibly." Her lips twitch once as her smile fails. Surprise shouldn't overtake her, yet she's already madly counting the odds of being with-child while on in years. And factoring in circumstances that are probably not for polite company… which is likely why her cheeks rather unexpectedly turn red. Her chin drops and she removes a trench coat of her own. Her favourite yellow dress is revealed underneath.

She's relieved to be pulled from her math spiral with a single nod, "Of course! I'm sure Max and Liv would help. They're very good with paint. Who knew finding roommates in the supermarket would turn out so well?"

*

"I can do it, I can do it," Steve says waving the idea off but reaching for both the ladies coats. He takes them into his bedroom and puts them on his bed. "Not sure about going back to SHIELD. I think I can always be a soldier. I'm trying to figure out if I'm good at anything else." Then, something odd. Three spots of blood have bleed through Rogers' blue shirt.

*

Peggy *does* let Steve take her coat, But Jack's little bit of freaking out at her state just earns the other brunette a somewhat flat look. "…I think I am quite fine, Miss Jack. Trust me." If only the woman knew about the fact that just two days ago Peggy was shoving a guy's face into a table during a marathon interrogation session. Hovering around a room at a dinner thing is nothing in compare. But, instead, she keeps that sweet smile in place that is nothing of the Director of an immensely powerful spy agency.

But she cannot stop her powers of observation. Her dark eyes immediately flicker down to Steve's stomach. "…Steve. You're bleeding. Have you been *stabbed* recently? What is going on and where is your first aid kit?" Yes, she'd stitch him up right here, if she needed. Peggy is just practical like that. She looks over to Jack, "Would you be a dear and get the first aid kit?"

*

The flat look is noted and prompts an arch of a single wry eyebrow while that dancing mischief once more reflects in her eyes. For better or worse, she doesn't shy. "It's Pace, actually," Jack manages with a faint lift of her eyebrows. She may be nervous, but it seems she can stand her ground. "I mean. It's Jack," because it is, "or Miss Pace."

Jack's eyes widen at the bleeding and her head turns to watch Peggy a few beats at the question of being stabbed. "If you're stabbed," she rather cautiously begins, "chances of infection," which she's already calculated, "are actually more problematic without antibiotics. I would suggest… seeing a physician. Not — " she lifts her hand towards Peggy " — that I question your, or anyone's," yes Peggy seems to make her flustered, "ability to patch anything up, but — " she's already moved to the bathroom to seek out said first aid kit through the cabinets.

*

"What? No, I'm okay, guys. I just got poked a bit. It's actually kind of funny. This guy was named the Porcupine and," Steve is laughing to himself even as he follows Jack into the bathroom. "He was making off with some bank money and just got pounded. I mean, he just got the living tar kicked out of him. He got a lucky shot in, but it's not bad." Steve follows Jack into the bathroom and tears off his shirt quick to replace the bandage. "I've gotten so many worse injuries back when I was in the service," he calls out to Peggy. But then, his eyes turn serious as he looks to Jack as if to say, "You okay?"

*

Peggy *knows* his body, his ability to heal and take damage. That's why her mind went to being stabbed. It had to be something beyond a simple scratch to still be bleeding. She also isn't too worried about infection. "Jack, then." She echoes to the woman, proving that she was actually listening. "And…Steve's body is remarkably resistant to infection. Far more than the rest of us, than the serum. Doesn't mean he's not resistant to *actively bleeding* so the lady is right, Steve. You're either seeing a physician or letting me handle it. No arguments." Was Peggy always this bossy? Probably.

*

A pensive, nearly lopsided smile, small, but present is cast towards Steve at the question as Jack reaches for the bandages in the kit. "I…It's completely selfish and ridiculous." Because it is. "And has absolutely nothing to do with you. Or here. Or…" her eyes flit to the ceiling. "I'm being ridiculous. I know I am." Her lips press into a thin line. "It's one of my roommates. I'll tell you about it later." Pause. "Or you could read the Bugle and between the lines." Her eyebrows lift.

She squints at the injury. "I think you should probably let Peggy patch it up. I mean, at the very least…"

*

"Okay," Steve and reaches his hand to give her a squeeze on hers. He looks down, "You think so? You don't think that'd be weird? I'm over thinking it." Steve, sans shirt, comes out with the the bandaging. "Alright, doc. Do your worst."

*

Other women may oggle, or swoon, or do whatever a woman is supposed to do when in a room with a half naked Steve Rogers. But Peggy is all business. Been there, seen that, really, it doesn't phase her any more. She gives Jack an actually thankful smile for the back up. "I'm glad to see he listens to *someone*. You can stay around. It'll be healthy for him." Peggy half teases the woman, but then she does accept the first aid kit, quickly assessing what is in front of her before she nods Steve into the chair. "Now you go. You squirm."

*

The squeeze at Jack's hand is easily returned and she manages a flicker of a smile at Peggy's remark. She actually chuckles at the teasing, despite her very crimson face at the words. "Well, it's not okay to have massive woulds long term. So, getting someone to patch you up is probably good." Jack shrugs.

*

Steve takes a seat and leans back in the recliner, while he reaches out for some support via Jack, "So, I got pasta. I hope that's alright. Jack and I…I didn't even introduce you guys, I'm so sorry. Jack Pace, Peggy Carter." He motions, "Jack was almost my insurance agent. Peggy used to be my boss." Which doesn't tell the whole story on either, of course.

*

"Insurance Agent. Mm." Peggy knows when she's not getting the whole story and she arches skeptical brows to both of them, but her eyes are light and amused. "It is good to meet you, Jack. And I do mean it, you seem good for him." That is high praise coming from Peggy. She then reaches down, grabbing one of those sealed, sterile surgical needle packs from the kit. She's going to put two stitches in with quick, expert hands. "Jack, luv, could you get me a chair so I can do this without half leaning over him?" It will be far easier if she can sit on the edge of a chair across from him. Meanwhile, she's getting that needle threaded smoothly and then wiping down his stomach, and her fingertips, with alcohol from the little bottle of it in the kit and cotton balls.

*

"And it's good to meet you, Peggy." Jack's cheeks flush pink again. As far as being good for Steve, she chuckles, "I think that's questionable. But thank you." She shrugs lightly. "And… Steve is too kind. I was actually reprimanding him for property damage because — " she lifts a hand, it's not important. "Needless to say, some things are more important than, well, stuff." Her eyebrows lift and she trails out of the room only to return with the requested chair which she slides into the room for Peggy.

*

"She does that a lot," Steve says with a chuckle and a shake of the head to Peggy when Jack leaves to get the chair. "I don't think she realizes or wants to realize that she …" But then Jack is coming back. "We met on the train," Steve says fondly. "Me. Jack. Some whacky terrorist."

*

"Sounds appropriately exciting. That should, well… Set you up for how interesting life with Steve can be, Jack. Just a warning." Peggy admits with a slightly wry grin. Then she's leaning over a bit more to really focus on putting in those few stitches. Tired, pregnant, graying or not, she can still stitch close a wound with the best of them and her fingertips don't even tremble as she does it.

*

"Yes, well, whacky terrorists," Jack offers in turn, "I suspect(?)," because this definitely isn't her expertise, "are generally exciting." A playful smile tugs at her lips as her arms lightly cross over her chest. She leans against the frame of the door and watches the stitching. It's fortunate she's strong-stomached.

*

"I'm sorry," Steve says, with what is becoming a more and more familiar look from the good Captain. One of apology. "I totally ruined dinner. I really thought I had this patched up well enough."

*

A deeper sigh escapes her lips as Steve mentions having it patched up well enough. "Doing stitches on yourself is near impossible, no matter how good you are. And it's not ruined. One more stitch and we'll eat. I'm starving." Peggy half chides him and half reassures him. One more stitch and then she's taping the gauze over top. She works neat and fast as ever. She gives them both a smile, gathering the detrius from the wound care. "I'll toss this out and we can eat. And life is… generally, exciting, Jack. It should be. Keeps it interesting."

*

"Unless it's spam, I doubt anything could ruin dinner," Jack offers with a one shouldered shrug. She slowly slides towards Steve to grant him a solid nod. "It's good you got all sorted. Bleeding definitely needs to be sorted out."

*

"She doesn't like spam?" Steve says speaking almost wearily to himself. "We're going to have to compromise in this relationship, clearly." He shakes his head, "I'm not sure I would have survived the war without spam. Almost didn't!" He chuckles, "Maybe that's how life will be exciting."

*

"…Steve, we ate a *lot* of things during the war that I would MORE than happily never eat again. I think you can move beyond the spam." Peggy is only half teasing there, as she stands up and moves to dump the trash from the wound clean up. First aid kit is quickly put away as well and Peggy washes her hands before coming back out of the bathroom. "So…what is dinner? I do not cook, hence the pie. I bought it. It was safer for all of us."

*

"No one really likes spam. They make themselves believe they like it because it approximates food and keeps on the shelf forever," Jack defends with a chuckle. She slides back into the main living area and nods at Peggy, "The precision and patience of baking always consumes time."

*

Steve stands and heads back to the bedroom for a fresh shirt, calling out, "I like spam." He sounds like he's trying to convince himself. He's back rather quickly and starts to get the pasta out. "We got spaghetti, chicken parmigiana, and …" He hrms, "Whatever that white sauce is."

*

As Steve goes to get another shirt, Peggy murmurs under her breath to Jack, "You should get him a tin of spam for Christmas. He'll love it." She gives a little, conspiratorial wink, and then moves for the table herself. Her stomach rather loudly grumbles at the scent of food on the air. She's starving. "…that… Smells wonderful… can't remember the last time I ate today. Probably breakfast…"

*

Peggy's suggestion wins a light chuckle. "Oh my word, I can only imagine. I think my mother would disown me for purchasing it." Her smile grows, "But presents are for the receiver, not the giver…" She chuckles again, but silences as Steve enters the room, giving that feeling that someone was talking about you while you weren't there. "Dinner sounds delicious," she affirms.

*

Steve sets things up, putting the large bowls of pasta in the middle for everyone to take from. He says grace and asks the gals what they want to drink, choosing beer for himself. "Lil hot sauce with it. Eggs and toast. Can't beat it," he murmurs to himself in defense of spam.

*

The one thing Peggy gives into while being knocked up is eating. Especially because she gets so little time to do so at the office. She reaches for the bowl and the white sauce, taking generous helpings of both before she settles back in. She arches a brow at Steve, just shaking her head, "Rations have gotten far better since then, I assure you. Maybe for your birthday I'll bring you the whole array." She teases with a wink, though she's sharing that gaze with Jack. Almost daring the woman to do it with her eyes alone.

*

Jack lives with Max and Liv, she never backs down from a dare. Nor does she miss one — even when just made with a person's eyes. She presses three fingers over her lips, as if pushing any potential chuckles and amusement inwards instead of letting them escape. "I'm pretty sure spam isn't even food. It's probably some kind of plastic," she nods slightly at the thought. "Yes, that must be it."

*

"Tastiest plastic y'ever eaten," murmurs Steve to himself as he finally tries some of the food. "This isn't bad either," he says, clearly a peace offering.

*

An earnest, subtle smile stretches all the way up to Peggy's eyes, even as she watches Jack across the table. Excellent. She takes a few more bites of the food, though. Food is also one of the few things that can shut her up. "Pardon…I'm ravenous…" She admits, half blushing, but she's clearly enjoying it. "And thank you for the sandwiches the other night, Steve… Even if Ava was… overzealous about things, they helped. A lot."

*

Jack's eyes flit between the pair, and she chuckles at the concession. "I'd say this is in the range of good," she shrugs her shoulders easily, as if to ask what can be done about it before refocusing on the chicken. "I can concede that maybe maybe I've never ate spam the way it was intended," which no one will ever know, "but in my experience." She shrugs again.

*

"I will promise not to expose you to it," Steve says to Jack with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Mostly on account of the fact that I would like to make it to the next date."

*

And then, mid bite for Peggy, the watch on her wrist actually *goes off*. It's like an alarm, or a timer, or… well, a very long distance walkie-talkie. Only for emergencies, but when the office need her, the emergency signal goes. She sighs, looking down to the beeping, blinking piece. "And…that is the office. That means I need to be the worst friend and run back in, for whatever reason. Or, at least, make a phone call. Doesn't seem you have a phone in this place." She sighs and takes one more bite before standing. "I'm…quite sorry. Jack, we'll have to have a lady date at some point. Get to know each other better. I'll tell you all his secrets." Peggy winks as she shoulders back into her jacket.

*

"I think when duty calls, well, duty calls." Jack shrugs as she follows Peggy back to the entrance. "And of course, we'll make sure to catchup another time." She glances over her shoulder at Steve, and then, with a sly smile nods, "And I feel like knowing some of Steve's secrets would be… useful."

*

"Conspirators on all sides," Steve says as he leans in to give Peg a hug. "I'm sure David wrote something in the Psalms about that." He smiles to Jack and gives Peg a wave, "Stay safe and tell the family we said hello."

*

A brief hug, but she doesn't want to disturb their dinner too much, and Peggy cinches her coat about her waist. "Yes, well, that's what you get for liking smart women. You bring this on yourself. Now sit, relax, enjoy your date. We will all catch up soon." Peggy winks at both of them, and then she's out the door again. No rest for the wicked. Or the director of SHIELD.

*

With Peggy retreating, Jack turns on her heel to issue Steve an easy smile. "So…" her chin lifts "…you were attacked by someone named Mr. Porcupine? As in… the animal?" She lifts a wry eyebrow and she issues him a comical smile.

*

Steve smiles right back at her, not backing down whatsoever. "I think it was just Porcupine. I'm a bit embarrassed that he got me. I'm sure he will look back on it as a badge of honor." Steve gives an upwards nod, "What did your roommate do?"

*

The mention of Liv has Jack's eyes narrowing slightly. "Something completely unselfish. She saved a kid from a building that went haywire when they were trying to close that thing in the Park." Her lips twist to the side. "The big catch though… was she was photographed doing it. And it turns out the kid was related to the editor." Pause. "And that got her let go from her job." Jack's lips press together. "All of that is notwithstanding. It's the weird presence we now have in the building as everyone stares at us when we go in and out of the apartment. The phone has been ringing off the hook… it's like, not good deed. You know?"

*

Steve shakes his head slowly, "She got let go from her job because she helped someone? I don't understand." It dawns on him, the thing gnawing at the back of his neck, "Jack, you realize, if this gets serious and people see us out together, it'll probably be in the news. For better and for worse."

*

"It's ridiculous," the job situation, Jack agrees slowly. "It's just a mess," as far as Liv's situation is concerned. "And kind of unfortunate. I mean, she really was helping a kid. It just happened to be a kid whose guardian let it balloon in a big way." The smile subdues at the thought and she nods. "I've put that together. Slowly. I swear, I'm kind of under the radar. In everything. I just happen to know a lot of extraordinary people."

*

"I don't really care if you happen to know extraordinary people, or any of that. I'm not worried about that—I'm worried about the first time you see your face on the cover of the Daily Bugle. I'm worried about how that might effect your feelings about me." Steve tilts his head, "So, the editor was…mad? Where does your roommate work? Or did she, I mean."

*

"I… kind of gathered." Jack quiets and inhales a slow breath. She lets it go equally slowly. "I like you Steve. A lot. I mean, a lot, a lot. Enough that despite having calculated the odds of that happening, that I'm still…" she shrugs. "I have actually thought about it. And I weigh these things. Like my privacy in the balance." Her eyebrows lift. The question actually merits a small shake of Jack's head, "No. The editor was grateful. Apparently the fellow running the Bugle is pretty attached to his foster daughter. Liv worked at the UN. They don't want troublemakers or some such nonsense."

*

I am Steve's exhale of relief.

He doesn't mention anything else about it, taking her at her word, other than to say, "I like you a lot, too."

"Listen, some of those UN guys are old war veterans. Maybe I could pull some strings if I know anyone? I'd be willing to try at least."

*

And, in just realizing what was said, Jack presses up to her tiptoes and brushes a light not-quite-chaste kiss against Steve's lips. Moments later she drops back to her flat feet. And almost as if she hadn't missed a beat, she nods, "I bet Liv would appreciate that. Although, she figures they were looking for a reason to let her go for a long stretch. A tall blonde woman with a sword doesn't always make the most inconspicuous translator."

*

Steve's eyes go wide as his hand cups the side of her face as she kisses him with passion. "Well, I mean, if she decides to, you know, I mean, I could. Or whatever. Or I could introduce her to Peggy and give her a nod. For whatever my word is worth with that organization."

*

"That… would be good, I think," Jack manages a flicker of a smile and nods. "But yeah, it was… kind of terrible what they did. Or really terrible depending on how you think on it." She sighs softly and then takes a single step back towards the table. "We should probably finish eating…"

*

"What? Oh, right. Sorry," Steve had completely forgotten about anything else in the world—all the kissing he's done to this point in his life has been pretty chaste afterall. "I'll talk with Peg."

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