Day 1:
Finally her week of well-earned vacation time has come. As it so happens, roommate Angie's holidays overlap, leaving Peggy with the spacious Stark-residence all to herself.
Outside, clumpy snowflakes swirl down from the sky painting the scenery white; while inside a warm fire crackles, keeping the winter chill at bay. It's truly a peaceful setting and Peggy intends for it to stay that way. Clad in her cozy winter lounge-wear, she settles herself by the fireplace accompanied by a good book, a blanket and a bottle of brandy. She smooths open page one of "Earth and High Heaven" – a book Angie insisted she read – when suddenly there's a rap at the door. Peggy rolls her eyes as she rises, wondering what she's done to deserve her tranquil moment spoiled.
There's a crisp pop as the seal of frost is broken, followed by a snowy gust upon the opening of the door. Shielding herself from the elements, Peggy finds none other than Edwin Jarvis leaning against the door frame. He's bundled in a large scarf and overcoat while a handkerchief is balled in the fist that's rubbing vigorously at his nose. Said nose's redness stands pronounced against the white, fluffy snow that clings to his clothes and hair. "Dear God! What's happened to you?!" Peggy exclaims as she looks him up and down.
"I'm sick." He announces in a coarse, nasally voice. His head too, thumps against the door frame as he succumbs to exhaustion.
"I can see that, Mr. Jarvis! Come in before you get any worse." Peggy ushers Jarvis inside and proceeds to brush the snow from his clothing. Taking his coat she notices his attire. "Are you in your pajamas?" Peggy blurts, having never seen him without a suit.
"I apologize for my – sniff – indecency, Ms. Carter, but this nasty – sniff – ailment came upon me quite strong this evening. I've tried to supress it – sniff – all day long but it simply won't give." He explains in a hurry. "I-I didn't know what to do. Mr. Stark would normally hire staff specifically to –sniff – aid in my recovery, however – sniff – he is being entertained for the night; and with this oncoming – sniff – storm I highly doubt anyone could be available for hire anyways." He coughs with a wince into his scarf.
"So your first instinct was to drive in this weather yourself and appear at my doorstep?" Peggy arches a skillful eyebrow.
"Well, I suppose in hindsight the drive was not a particularly – sniff – intelligent decision but – sniff – I really have no one else to turn to." Jarvis' voice turns somber. "Before the incident Anna woud tend to me; but now..." His voice trails off. The transition into warm air forces yet another sniffle from Jarvis' nose, helping to mask the pain that time has not yet healed. "You're not cross with me are you, Ms. Carter?" He questions with troubled eyes.
Her heart lurches. "Of course not, Jarvis." Peggy shakes her head. Her tone is soft and inviting. "Come on, let's get you nice and toasty by the fire, shall we?"
"That sounds lovely." beams Jarvis as he eyes up the fire across the room.
He sits down gingerly on the sofa as Peggy unfolds a blanket. Being a guest was simply out of his purview.
"Well, sit back!" Peggy urges. "There's no way that storm will allow you to get home tonight. So, you might as well make yourself at home. Besides, you can't get better if you don't rest!" Jarvis complies with her instruction, lifting his stocking feet and stretching out. Peggy drapes the woolen blanket overtop him and positions a pillow behind his head. "Comfy?" she smiles.
"Perfect." Jarvis returns a grin though his sniffle.
Peggy wastes no time in her diagnosis as she places a hand on his forehead. Her cool touch spreads across his warm skin; however, it is the concept of contact between them which sends the shiver to his core.
"That's quite the temperature!" Peggy frowns. "Just a moment, I've got just the thing."
"Ms. Carter, please. There's no need-" Jarvis calls out but Peggy has already darted into the kitchen. He can hear the kettle begin its boil as he turns his attention to the dancing flames of the fireplace. Swirls of red and orange mingle, morphing themselves into demonic figures and faces.
The sharp whistle of the kettle rattles Jarvis. He crams his eyes shut as the throbbing grows in his temples.
Shaken from his entrancement, he then turns his attention to the end table. A book lies overturned, open-face down, evidently as a result of interruption. Guilt washes over him as Jarvis realizes just how invasive he has been.
Footsteps approach and Peggy re-enters the den. "Earth and High Heaven," begins Jarvis as Peggy sets down a steaming cup of tea. "Quite a beautiful tale of romance it is."
"So I've heard." she answers, squeezing a lemon into the cup of hot liquid.
"I'm very sorry for – sniff – being so intrusive. I should be more – sniff – capable of taking care of myself ." admits Jarvis, ashamed.
"Please stop apologizing, Jarvis. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to. Now hush." She grabs the bottle of brandy and pours a generous amount into the tea. "Drink this. It's my dad's remedy. Works every time." she assures with a grin, handing Jarvis the cup and saucer.
"I am truly grateful. " he replies, referencing the broader spectrum of her hospitality before putting his nose to the teacup. Immediately his face withdraws and his nostrils flare. "Oh dear me! That's powerful!" he snorts.
"Then it's helping already!" Peggy says firmly, supressing a laugh. "Tut Tut. Drink up!" She nods towards the concoction.
Jarvis concedes and proceeds to sip at the steaming beverage. "It feels quite nice once you get past the kick from the Brandy." he admits after a few swallows.
"That's good." Peggy smirks as she sits and watches him. Something about providing for Jarvis made her feel...at home. She protested domesticity, but somehow the feeling of family – something she had sacrificed years ago – now comes flooding back.
"How was your day, Ms. Carter;– sniff – if you don't mind my asking? " Jarvis pipes up between breaths upon his tea.
The Agent rouses from her daze. "For starters, you may call me 'Peggy'." She begins. "We hardly need to be formal after all we've been through. As for my day, it was nothing special. Angie is out visiting family and I am enjoying my time away from the SSR.
Your day; besides this impending illness, Mr. Jarvis?"
"Please, it's 'Edwin'." he responds. "I was plagued with the task of – sniff – readying Mr. Stark for his rendezvous tonight. Clothing and accessories of questionable function – sniff – had to be collected and packed. Not to mention the countless rehearsals of sweet-talk and flirtation. I've heard my fair share of – sniff – lines, but those of quality are few and far between." Jarvis giggles with a hiccup.
"Oh, I can only imagine!" Peggy chuckles. Howard is a charmer, but sometimes he should only let his money talk.
"Would you look at that!" she teases turning the focus back to the butler, "That tea went down pretty well after all."
Jarvis stares into the empty cup. "Yes it did." he agrees. "I can breathe more sufficiently too...but my head, it still aches."
Peggy takes the teacup and sets it on the end table. "You must contact Howard and tell him that you cannot make it in tomorrow."
"Oh, but I can't! You see, Mr. Stark has another date scheduled for tomorrow evening as well and –sniff – he requires my services to prepare their dinner and accessorize the mansion –sniff – 'accordingly'." pleads Jarvis.
"Howard can manage to scatter a few rose petals and prepare his own meals for once!" Peggy retorts, angered at how juvenile Stark could be.
"Peggy, – sniff – you have witnessed Mr. Stark's inventions first hand and, believe me, you would wish his culinary experiments on no one."
"Fair enough, Edwin but you cannot work like this . There must be other staff that can be called in."
Jarvis glances to the window. The snow has begun to whir violently. "With that weather, I highly doubt it. I live on site. I have no excuse." he frowns and glances down absentmindedly.
There is a brief pause before an idea sparks in Peggy's mind. "Then it is clear what must be done. I will replace you while you recover." she states plainly.
"No, that is unfair. I c-cannot allow you to do such a thing!" Jarvis declares with the slightest slur.
"Too late. I have already decided. You can help coach me in the fine art of bultering in the morning." Peggy proclaims, crossing her arms.
Jarvis' brow furrows in defeat. He knows arguing with Peggy Carter is futile. "Y-you are too – sniff – kind!" he smiles sweetly.
"I try." she winks. "Now, would you like me to rub that head of yours? You seem unable to shake your headache."
"If y-you i-insist." he returns; his grin becoming lazy as he relaxes back.
Peggy launches her massage of Jarvis' temples which elicits soft sighs of relief from the butler's lips. Again, satisfaction and warmth flutter in her stomach.
"Mr. Stark i-is v-very p-particular-r with his roast beef." Jarvis mumbles.
"Roast beef?" questions Peggy as she continues to rub.
"Yes. Roast b-beef. That's the dish he d-desires to s-serve tomorrow. And he likes it prep-p-pared with just a p-pinch of spice and cooked t-tender but n-never ever burnt. No. Don't b-burn Mr. St-stark's roast beef. That's a b-bad thing to - to do." Garbles Jarvis as delicate fingers stretch and crinkle the skin along his face. "He gets cranky. I - I made that m-mistake once. Never again! Luckily, I've enhanced my- my skills s-since then c-considerably."
"You don't hold your liquor very well, do you Edwin?" Peggy quips, ignoring Jarvis' rambling.
"Evid-dently n-not." he replies opening an eye and peering up at her. "You kn-know what else, Peggy?" says Jarvis in his poor attempt at a whisper. "Mr. Stark likes his pants ironed. And by p-pants I mean don't mean the Am-american sense of the w-word!"
"Alright! I believe that is considered too much information, Edwin." Peggy sounds shaking her head.
"It's all p-part of the job!" he chirps back.
"Well, Howard will have to make do with crinkled underwear because I'm not Mr. Jarvis, now am I?"
"Of c-course not, s-silly!" giggles Jarvis. "Y ou're Mrs . Jarvis!"
Peggy hands freeze in place. What did he just say? She swallows hard."I think that's the Brandy talking, Edwin." she states quickly, trying her best to think nothing of the noun. "You best be getting some rest now."
"Perhaps you're right. My head feels significantly less t-tense and I believe sleep will soon be upon me."
"Alright then." Peggy rises and adjusts the blanket. She proceeds to tuck him in and ensure his pillow is well fluffed. "Goodnight, Edwin." Her voice sounds almost musical.
"Goodnight, Peggy." he hums as he nestles in. The fire's shadows flicker upon his huddled form.
"And if you need anything, just holler." she adds, but Jarvis is already asleep. Peggy stares at the man on her sofa. He looks so peaceful and calm. His eyes are gently closed and an unconscious smile plays at his lips. The warm feeling returns to her belly as she bends down and places a gentle kiss upon his forehead. "Sleep tight." she whispers before quietly tiptoeing away from the den.