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It's definitely true — Peggy is just living at the office right now. She's gone home once since it all happened, gotten a few changes of clothes and other things, but otherwise it's better to be near work where she can avoid most things personal. It also means she's *always here*, so avoiding her is going to be mostly impossible. Probably also the reason she ended up hanging out of a helicopter last night, but that's neither here nor there now. So, Sunday evening, and Peggy's light is on. Hell, her door is open. That generally means she's looking for someone or trying to keep an eye on whatever is going on in the front room, even if it's just a skeleton crew and the phones are even quiet.
*
Let the record show that Liv is back at her desk, Director Carter. She'd finished her donut and tea, spoke a little more with Fitz — about multiverse theory, thank you — before returning to her spot a stone's throw from Peggy's office, where she is finishing up a report about what she and the young engineer ran across the night before. She wants to get down everything the three voices on that ship had said before she manages to forget any of it. Focus!
*
Heather has sketches to drop off, exacting likenesses of Pepper's paramour — as well as pages containing whatever details about his arm, his habits, his weapons, and his nightmares that Pepper was able to provide. She's added her own notes regarding the potential that the man had trigger programming much like that inflicted by Weapon X. Normally, she would not be in on a Sunday but after Saturday's events, she's not sure she'll ever be able to have a weekend again.
"Liv!" She's happy to see Liv, though she'd rather Liv were having a weekend — hypocritically enough. "You should be off having some fun."
She softens the criticism with a smile and a wink. "You haven't seen Bobbi around, have you? I have some sketches for her that might help. Apparently Pepper Potts and I were separated at birth or something. She offered a little more help with all that."
*
May has arrived.
*
Surely there's a place for SHIELD agents to work out, and wherever that is, that's where May emerges from. That she's dressed for a workout and not in proper ladylike office gear troubles her exactly zilch, and as she heads to her desk, she takes a quick suvey of the room. Seeing Peggy's lights on, and all of the other women present causes a lift of her brow. "Night owls." she murmurs darkly with a shake of her head.
*
And there is the voice that Director Carter had been waiting to hear. Not that she'd accuse her secretary of ducking her but considering they used to work together on a daily basis and, since a certain shipment got lost in some box flying to Turkey, Peggy has barely seen the woman all week? Well, it might make a less paranoid woman suspicious. A taskmaster like Peggy? She knows something is up. Exhausted, swollen, pregnant and not in the best of moods, or not, Peggy pushes herself up and out of her desk, coming around to the door of her office and staring across the room.
"MacNeil. I didn't realize you were in the office, you should have checked in." While she's definitely looking tired, the director seems no worse the wear for having been hanging off a helicopter yelling at a raging green monster last night. She's also on the edge of outgrowing the most recent round of tailored clothing Heather got her, buttons pulling on this shirt, but that is PROBABLY not what Peggy is going to bring up.
Some of her unhappy expression is slightly tamed as she sees May. The woman was one of her first agents, and most reliable. She gives a brief nod, "Melinda." Peggy is one of the very few that gets to call her that. But her arrival does not distract from Heather and those heavy, dark eyes return almost immediately to her secretary.
*
When she hears her name, Liv blinks twice and looks up from her typewriter, beginning to open her mouth to offer Heather a word of warning — but the director beats her to it. Alas. The Asgardian just smiles apologetically up at Heather. "Haven't seen her," she admits, before nodding towards Peggy with her chin. "We'll catch up afterwards," she promises.
She intended to just turn back to her report and try not to fret, but Liv can't help but look when Peggy greets someone else. She's still new enough that she hasn't really encountered May much, but that won't stop her from offering a polite bob of her head.
*
"Director." May's greeting is as neutral as it can get, but Peggy knows where to find the emotion in the woman's tone. "You need something?" She asks, gaze flicking to Liv and Heather assessingly. Cataloging. She doesn't even bother to hide that she's doing it, though she returns Liv's nod with a sharp one of her own.
*
Heather is undeterred by Peggy's grim demeanor or Liv's anxiety. There's nothing she can do about either thing. Pregnant women are cranky as a rule, anyway. No sense making a deal about it.
"Just got in, Director," she says briskly, holding up the folder. "I'll leave this on Agent Morse's desk for her. Good to see you, Agent May," she adds. "Can I do anything for you while I'm here, anyone?"
*
May asked the exact right or, perhaps, the exact wrong question. "What I need is to easily have Agents Fitz and Simmons study the Asgardian armor which Junior Agent Sigrunsdottir, here," Peggy nods towards Liv, "So respectfully handed over, so we might have a better understanding of Asgardian defenses and protect our people better against this alien threat. However…" Then those dark eyes return towards Heather, glaring just a bit more as Peggy takes another few steps out of her office. Arms cross over her chest, shoulders leveled. The disappointment is practically radiating off of her. "It seems when someone boxed it up, it got put in the wrong shipment, and is now being send to Turkey or god knows where and I'd love if a certain secretary could track it, but she's been too busy to even report into my office. So…"
*
For her part, Liv keeps her mouth firmly shut. She very much looks like she wants to say something, that much is clear from the way she shifts uncomfortably in her chair. But — at least for the moment — she's managing to keep it in check.
*
May is loitering at her desk. She says…absolutely nothing, only discreetly reach into her desk to pull out her tea supplies. As Peggy speaks, May's eyebrow starts to rise. Soon enough it hits her hairline. Her gaze swings over to Heather, air expectant.
*
"Yes, totally my fault," Heather says, putting the folder down on Bobbi's desk. "I switched lids between two crates and the lab ended up with surveillance equipment and the armor went on the plane to Turkey." She's remarkably unperturbed. Mistakes happen. This wasn't even one of the worst ones she could have made lately. "As soon as I realized the error, I contacted our agents on the ground and tracked it there and back. It came in yesterday, cleared inspection, and it's available for them to work on it when they get in on Monday. I apologize for the mistake, Director."
*
There is a slight narrowing of Peggy's eyes in Heather's direction, her jaw still set. May and Liv are given the most brief of looks, as if Peggy would dare someone to cut in, but this is not the sort of mistake that the director can let slide. Especially from a woman she trusts. She takes another step closer to Heather. "…That may be. And as soon as the armor is checked, I'll pull the formal reprimand off of your record. But if I didn't know better, I'd almost think this happened on purpose. Considering you used to be the most detail oriented, meticulous person I've possibly ever met. And I see your friendship with Agent Sigrunsdottir." Yes. Peggy is absolutely accusing Heather of doing it on purpose. The director is sharp, incredibly so. Maybe she's paranoid, but chances are she just knows people very well. "This is a place of business, MacNeil, not a ladies' league. I suggest you remember than when you decide to betray your position for your *friends* in the future."
*
There is the briefest flicker of something across Liv's face, a very slight tensing of her jaw as her eyes flick over to focus on Heather. But she stays quiet. The important words to focus on here are 'in the future' — and as long as this hasn't cost Heather her job, she can keep her tongue stilled. She hopes. She might be biting it in order to make sure of it.
*
May has walked over to the coffee - it conveniently has access to the hot water, and as Peggy is dressing down Heather, she calmly goes about setting up her tea. Which does in fact involve a tea ball, because those little paper packets are just unacceptable, and coffee is horrid. Absolutely silence and a sort of detatched, mild amusement on her face as she watches. It's not schadenfreude, it's just observational and absent, like oh look, some bluebirds are mating!
*
"That's a fairly serious accusation." Heather's expression is inscrutible. "I still consider myself to be an extremely careful person. I was simply trying to do too much that day and that fault is mine. I should have gotten here earlier. The simplest explanation is that I'm human," she says evenly, eyes on Peggy's face. "We make mistakes. I would never do something of the sort simply out of a misguided sense of friendship." Simply, no. But for more complex reasons, possibly.
*
"Well, you will need to be more careful in the future, MacNeil, or SHIELD won't have use of your skills. I didn't hire you to make mistakes, I hired you to help keep this place together. At least I knew not to trust Markus with valuable goods. What would you say to Liv if we'd lost her armor which is probably one of the last ties to her home she has left? Really? You should be apologizing to *her*, not to me." Peggy half snaps, just in a mood, apparently, or perhaps it's simply been building against Heather for days and she's just not had a chance to let it out.
She then gives a little huff and looks back up to May. "We need to speak at some point soon, May. I need your expertise on baby sitting some of these new kids. I thought they were ready for the field but maybe I was wrong." That is said to BOTH Liv and Heather.
*
Okay, now Liv can't stay quiet. Not when she's being actively utilized as a bludgeon against someone else. With a frown and a furrow of her brow, she slowly rises to her feet, perhaps the first real visual confirmation that she's definitely different. Most women aren't six feet tall, and don't fill out a suit better than some of the men in the agency. (Sorry, fellas.)
"It turned up, Director," Liv notes in a slightly wary voice, peering towards Peggy. "There's no… it's fine." She offers a quick smile towards Heather, perhaps trying to be reassuring, before giving May another curious look. She actually looks almost relieved by this note from Peggy, even delivered the way it was. Actual, formal training? Yes, please.
*
May looks up from her tea, like some jungle cat taking a moment to pause from playing with its food. "Has either of them actually been assessed for the field?" she inquires mildly, and finding that it has stepped to her satisfaction, takes a testing sip. Oh, Liv. You know not what you ask, not coming from Melinda May.
*
If Heather weren't collecting information here, she might have the time to be offended. As it is, she's weighing what Peggy has to say carefully.
"If we'd lost the armor, we would have a fairly serious situation on our hands with our international transport protocols," Heather says evenly. "I understand that Agent Sigrunsdotter has made a sacrifice in surrendering technology and resources from her nation — well, realm — of origin. I wouldn't take that lightly. If you have any doubts about my general suitability, of course I'll make improvements, Director."
Heather also gives Liv a little smile. "The Director is right. The fact that it turned up doesn't mean that the error didn't happen in the first place. The reprimand is appropriate."
*
The director's eyes just narrow a bit more to Liv, "Junior Agent, this is *not* your business. And no, not formally, May. At least, not by someone I trust. MacNeil's file came in from the UN, but Sigrunsdottir here is virtually an unknown. Perhaps you should do her assessment. She could use a more firm hand than what has been happening around here lately." As evidenced by the fact that she's standing up for a *secretary* who made a mistake.
Then Peggy's dark eyes are on that woman again, studying Heather quietly. "No, if *you'd* lost the armor, *you* would have a fairly serious situation on your hands with the protocols. You are lucky that I don't have to report this to NATO and that it's just a reprimand. Get back on your game, MacNeil. Or maybe this is why the UN let you go?"
*
To Liv's credit, when Peggy aims some of that ire her way, she just holds up both of her hands in silent acquiesence. Nevermind that it's her armor, which she would argue does make it her business.
No, instead, Liv turns her attention to May. Heather's on her own. "Things have been in such an uproar since I got here that I haven't had one yet. Barton — Barney, not Clint — has given me some training with a handgun, but other than that, it's been something of a trial by fire." To put it mildly. "So. Whatever you need from me."
*
May looks both women up and down, and whatever impression she has, she keeps to herself. "What I need from both of you is to report to the HQ workout area at oh six hundred tomorrow, dressed and ready to work." Her tone suggests she doubts they're able to be that much in the way of early birds, or maybe she's just tossing in that tone of doubt so they'll prove her wrong.
*
Heather actually flinches slightly at Peggy's accusation, before she turns to May. "I have twelve years experience as a member of Alpha Flight, both in the command center and in the field. I left my previous position there — " She casts a glance toward Peggy. " — when the entire program and our parent department were shuttered, following the death of the team commander, my husband, last year. I have no formal training other than what I learned on the job, since I started so young. I'll be happy to come see you tomorrow morning if Director Carter thinks that's an appropriate use of my time."
*
A deep breath is taken in, Peggy about to say something else, but it seems the director actually catches herself. Perhaps she's beginning to recognize her moodiness. It's a step in the right direction. She looks between May and Heather, considering a few moments. "…Agent May, start with Sigrunsdottir for now. MacNeil is… generally, more useful for other things than direct field work. I need her in office, cleaning up the mess she left in the last week. Understood, Heather? No taking off this week." Peggy states, flat and quiet, but she's not on the edge of yelling any more.
*
The notion of being in the gym and ready to go by six in the morning doesn't even make Liv bat an eyelash. If anything, the blonde's expression brightens slightly and she inclines her head respectfully towards May. "Oh six hundred," she echoes. "Yes ma'am. Thank you."
*
The reactions thus far satisfy May. She offers a clipped nod to Peggy. "Certainly, Director." There's a thoughtful assessment of the other woman, but whatever she has to say to Carter, she keeps it to herself. To Liv instead she informs, "Be prepared to give me a verbal report of your present level of combat readiness and training. I'll also have read what portions of your file I'm authorized for." A glance at Peggy at that, but no more than a flicker of her gaze.
*
"Of course, Director." Heather seems…satisfied? "I'll be here. I'll make sure to correct my process so I don't make the same mistake twice. I apologize again, Director, and to you, too, Liv. It won't happen again."
*
A brief, cold nod and Peggy turns on the ball of her foot, half stalking, half waddling back into her office. She leaves the door cracked open, just a bit, possibly to evasdrop on her agents outside or possibly to indicate that she's still open to being spoken with. Maybe both. But, for now, the hormonal woman disappears into her office.
*
"That might take a while," Liv admits to May with a slight wince, one hand coming up to rub self-consciously at the back of her neck. "I'll do my best to summarize." With her hand still at her neck, she peers after Peggy as she returns to her office, and finally seems to allow herself to fully exhale.
Her eyes slide over towards Heather and Liv says, voice low, "It really is fine. I'm sorry, I should have just brought it in myself and spared you the trouble."
*
"I trust you to give me what I need." replies May, and without any ado, pours a second cup of tea and with one in each hand, starts making her way toward Peggy's office.
*
"I'm fine. I wanted to help, I screwed it up," Heather says to Liv, her tone reassuring. "I would have hated to have caused you any trouble, Liv, you know that. But, it's almost sorted. I'll get things fixed up. You can bring a bottle of wine over if you think you have anything to apologize for. I'm going to go check and see that the crate is where the lab team can get at it first thing."
*
Liv offers May a crisp nod and a genuine smile. "I'll do my best," she promises. Looking to Heather again, she actually allows herself a brief laugh. "Alright. I better finish up my report — if you're ever bored, ask Fitz why Sleepy's in pieces on the work bench," she says with a twinkle in her eye, dropping back into her chair. "It's a good story."
*
The director's office looks very much slept in. Peggy has a blanket and two pillows on the couch, a few suits hanging up in the open little closet. A hair brush on the little stand near the mirror. It's little details, but probably details an experienced agent would well be able to recognize. May catches her just as she's sinking her sore, too pregnant frame back down into the high backed chair behind her desk. She looks up as the other experienced Agent comes into the room, her brows arching…"Melinda."
*
May looks aound a moment, a hand going to her hip. "You and Daniel are fighting." She concludes the obvious, walking over to the older woman and holding out one of the mugs of tea. Her expression seems to suggest Peggy's going to drink it, she's going to drink it and like it. That face. "An office is not the best place for a pregnant woman to rest her head, no matter how competent she is."
*
Peggy has partially disconnected.
*
As May actually brings up the elephant in the room that most everyone else has been willing to ignore, Peggy's brows loft and she stares up at her old friend and colleague, "Astute observation, Agent May. What would I have ever done without you telling me." Peggy deadpans, apparently still a bit more snarky than she'd prefer, but it's been a bad week. She then looks back down to her desk, staring at the blue prints for the still half constructed, but now being USED prison out on the island. She says nothing for a few moments, doing the closest thing to sulking that a middle aged spy agency director can do, before she finally does reach a hand up and accepts the tea.
Melinda May made the best tea. She always did. And that's a Brit's opinion.
She sighs a touch softer at the last words that actally seem a bit concerned, "…I know. But… it's rather uncomfortable to sleep *anywhere* right now. I might as well stay here so I'm on hand if something happens. Besides… Daniel… he left the house too. Took Mickey. Going home to an empty house is… It's somehow worse." She confesses quietly to the woman.
*
"You can't stay here. You'll come to my apartment." May doesn't sound like she's negotiating, but it's also just the sort of thing she'd do. "You're juggling a lot of things, Peggy. You're the female director of an international intelligence organization, our president was assassinated less than a month ago, you're fighting with your husband and you're pregnant. You need to be in the best health and as clear minded as you can manage given the situation, and you won't do that sleeping in your office. It compromises you." May sits down, sips her own tea. "What's more, you already know this, but you need someone to tell you so you can allow yourself to admit it."
*
The woman across the desk is silent for several moments as May speaks entirely too much plain truth, but it doesn't mean that Peggy has to like it. She just takes a sip of her tea, tired eyes staring across the table at May, trying to look for a way to duck the woman's logic, but she couldn't. She sighs quietly. "May… we've known each other a long time now. I… I appreciate the offer, but I promise you, the couch is not that bad. I'm not compromised. It has simply been… a difficult few weeks." Peggy's heart isn't entirely behind her words, but she can't let May just steam roll over her entirely.
*
There it is again. That silence. Not a word spoken. Just the slow, inevitable rise of May's eyebrow, and the complete and utter lack of blinking while she sips her tea and stares at Peggy. Silently.
*
"Melinda May, those eye brows may work on younger agents, but I'm far too old and far too tired to be scared of them." Peggy insists with a bit of a smirk, though there is still something about that stare which might win her over yet. She looks back down to her tea and tries to sit a little straigher, as if she LOOKS more awake, maybe she'll convince May staying here tonight is a wise idea.
*
Betty arrives from SHIELD Prison.
*
Betty has arrived.
*
"Peggy, if you stay with me until you sort things out with Daniel, I'll make you shiu mai whenever I'm home." Now Melinda's just playing dirty. "Also, tea." It's like a coup de grace.
*
A little groan escapes the director's lips as she sinks back into her seat again, shaking her head quietly. "That's playing unfair, Melinda… Bloody hell. Fine, fine. One night. No longer. And I'm still taking the damn couch. … unless you have a guest room. Then I'll take the guest room." How can a pregnant woman resist home made shiu mai and tea? She can't. She gives one last tired sigh, dragging her hand across her face.
*
Peggy says, "And…I… I don't think I am going to sort things out. It's… bad. He resigned. Went to the FBI, or some… bullshit."
*
"Fine." May's tone is deceptively mild, but she picks and chooses her battles. If she has her way, it'll be more than one night, but rather until Daniel and Peggy get their shit together one way or another. "I have a spare bedroom. It used to be Andrew's office." And she got the apartment in the divorce. "Why did he do that?" she asks. "Daniel, I mean."
*
While Melinda's tone is mild, Peggy knows that calm, quiet voice. The slight instructive nature behind it, the heavy wisdom. Peggy's dark eyes flicker back up, staring at her old friend across her desk and just giving a little sigh, "…I know that tone, Melinda. We're either going home to sleep, or you can sit here and lecture me about my own marriage, but I'm not one of your students. I know that… Socratic bull you are too damn good at pulling." Peggy states with a flat smirk. "And he simply doesn't agree with the prison project. So, he resigned. It went… poorly. But… the fact that Bruce Banner is down there, in that prison, sleeping peacefully for the first time in ages… It proves just why we need it!"
*
"Did he also resign from being your husband?" May's tone is wry. "He may not agree, but what would convince him to go so far as to abandon you with all of," she makes a wiggly gesture in Peggy's direction. More specifically, her stomach. "This?"
*
"It's… complicated. We argued. I have no obligation to discuss my personal life with you, Agent May." Peggy gruffs up just a bit more. It's distinctly possible that May will lose what little headway she made in convincing Peggy to go home with her just by pushing this line of questioning. The Director has always been proud, but she's clearly extra touchy as of late.
*
"Alright." May holds up her hands as if in surrender. "In which case, shall we go? It's late, and if you want the first batch tonight I'll need to make a stop on the way." It's called a tactical retreat, kids.
*
Her eyes go from May, to the blue prints, back up to May. Peggy is tempted to stay, but this is the first night in several that things haven't been literally or metaphorically exploding. It's a quiet night in the city. She truly has no reason to fight this so she finally sighs and folds the plans shut in front of her. She shifts back and pushes herself, slightly achingly, up out of the chair. "Alright. We… don't need to stop tonight. You have to be back here at six am, don't you?" She asks with a half wry smile, "…Goodness forbid me keep you up past bedtime."
*
"Oh," May says casually, "I'll be here at five. Shall we?"
*
"…Guess this is why they still call you the Calvary, hmm?" Peggy half teases. But Melinda May has indeed accomplished the impossible and talked her out of the office for the first time (other than the helicopter ride to the Hulk) in several days. Peggy shrugs into her over coat, "I can drive us, I still have the Aston Martin here." It was her car, dammit, she was keeping it in whatever divorce may happen.
*