Earth-717: Agent Carter – Lead & Lipstick

Chapter 1: Coffee Girl

November 7th, 1949

Pushing her way through the revolving door at the entrance, Peggy strolled inside of the L&L Automat, a restaurant in downtown Manhattan that she had been frequenting for some time. It was the middle of the day, and as soon as Peggy walked into the room, one of the servers recognized her by her blue uniform jacket, elegant dress, ruby lips, commanding presence, and the hat she typically wore over her brunette hair that matched the colour of her lipstick.

"Yo, English!"

Peggy looked over at Angie upon hearing the nickname she had been given by the friendly server.

"Sit where you like," said Angie. "Be there in a jiff."

Peggy gave a gesture of acknowledgement before sitting down in one of the empty booths. Getting comfortable, Peggy took a mental scan of the patrons in the room without moving her head, something that she had learned to do a long time ago as an undercover agent. Taking a deep breath, she then let her right hand reach up and touch the locket she was wearing around her neck.

Holding the small, silver, circular locket between her thumb and index finger, she gently rubbed it while staring forward. At some point during her day, she usually found the time to cradle the locket in her hands and just think about the man who had given it to her, and the promise she had made to him.

"Don't open it until we get back. Promise?"

"I told you I don't like to make promises."

"Please. Just this once."

Peggy inhaled as the next word came to her mind.

"Okay."

"English? You awake?"

The sound of Angie's fingers snapping in front of Peggy's face startled her out of her trance. She then felt the heat from the fresh cup of coffee that the plucky server had slammed down in front of her. Peggy touched the cup with her free hand and took in a generous helping of its scent.

"Mmmm."

"Ya just gonna sit there and smell it, or what?"

Peggy blinked before shaking her head.

"What? Oh, sorry Angie. I was a bit distracted."

"I'll say. So what's that locket anyway? Boyfriend give it to you?"

Peggy gulped before answering.

"Ah, no. No. No, I don't have a . . . . it was a gift. From someone special. It was a long time ago."

Angie nodded as she folded her arms.

"Uh huh. Sounds like a story."

"It is, actually."

Angie waited a few seconds, but Peggy didn't say anything else.

"And . . . ."

"And I'll have a clubhouse sandwich, if you please."

Peggy smirked at Angie, who scowled and tore a sheet off of her notepad.

"Comin' right up, Queen Victoria."

Peggy sighed as Angie stormed off. Scratching the side of her head, she thought about the numerous times that the friendly server had tried to learn more about her private life. While Angie did know a few basic details, Peggy had made sure to try and keep their relationship at a certain distance. She herself was conflicted about this, having wanted to open up more to Angie on several occasions.

A minute later, Angie walked up and placed Peggy's sandwich in front of her.

"Lunch is served, your majesty," mocked Angie. "Could've gotten it yourself."

Peggy laughed.

"And not make you feel like you've earned an honest day's pay?"

Angie rolled her eyes.

"As a waitress? Honey, you got no idea."

"I suppose I haven't."

"You know, one of these days, you and I are gonna sit down and have a real chat, like friends do. A whole shebang. We're gonna be in our pajamas, we're gonna get drunk, and we're gonna talk about each other's days. Really open up, learn something. Then we're gonna cry, and by the end of it, we'll be real women."

"Sounds like a gauntlet."

Angie chortled.

"Gauntlet? I think that's what the girls call workin' a double 'round here."

"I can't imagine."

"Well that's cause you got a cushy job. Doing . . . . whatever it is you do."

Peggy smiled, but did not respond.

"Ya know," continued Angie, "I always wanted to be a private investigator. Know that?"

Peggy shook her head.

"Yeah. Real glamour type. Goin' around, talking to people, helping them solve cases, Christie style. Always loved her books. But yeah, imagine me, going places, trying to figure out who killed some girl's hubbie, who took the bag of money, who stole the cat food, that kinda . . . ."

Angie was interrupted by another patron calling out to her.

"Hey, do you work here, or what?" yelled a man at one of the nearby tables.

Angie sighed before starting to turn away.

"Best be going," said Peggy.

"Later, English."

As Peggy munched on her sandwich, she again let her thoughts drift. The radio that was playing through the restaurant then changed to a new song, which caused her ears to perk up as she took a sip from her coffee cup.

"I'll never smile again . . . ."

Peggy blinked as she listened to the lyrics.

"Until I smile at you,

I'll never laugh again,

What good would it do?

For tears would fill my eyes,

My heart would realize,

That our romance is through . . . ."

Peggy instinctively reached again for her locket, clasping it in her right hand. She closed her eyes, listening to the rest of the song as she let the brief moments of bliss she had in her past linger in her mind.

"I'll never love again,

I'm so in love with you,

I'll never thrill again

To somebody new,

Within my heart,

I know I will never start

To smile again

Until I smile at you . . . ."

Peggy took one of the napkins off of the dispenser on the table and dabbed her eyes with it. She then finished eating her sandwich. Slowly sipping her coffee over the next few minutes, she then saw a man walk into the building out of the corner of her eye. Recognizing him as the one she was waiting for, she gently knocked twice on the edge of the table without looking at him. He received the signal, and sat down in front of her.

The man was both shivering and sweating at the same time. The skin around his eyes was staunch red, as if they were used to blush rather than his cheeks. A copious amount of stubble framed his mouth, and the way his pupils darted around the room would make one dizzy if they tried to follow them for very long.

Peggy waited in silence, not saying anything as the man slowly calmed down. After a few more minutes, he finally seemed to settle himself in, and Angie walked by again, raising an eyebrow at seeing a man sitting with Peggy.

"Friend of yours?"

"Yes," answered Peggy.

Angie took out her notepad, looking over at the man.

"So what can I get you?"

The man rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly unable to answer the question.

"Whatever you like," said Peggy. "I'm buying."

Both Angie and the man gave Peggy a confused look, but relented after a few seconds.

"Uh, guess a . . . . um, a chicken soup, if, if ya have it."

"Yeah, sure," answered Angie. "Nothin' else?"

"N-Not right now."

"Aight."

After the man had consumed most of his soup, he put down the spoon, his breathing finally regulated. Wiping his mouth off with a napkin, he then looked up at Peggy, who had been carefully examining all of his behaviour since he arrived. She then put her hands together on the table and leaned forward.

"State your name."

"What?" asked the man. "You know . . . ."

"State your name," repeated Peggy.

The man blinked.

"Curtis Henshaw."

"Mister Henshaw, my name is Peggy Carter. I work for a secret division of the government that is very interested in your case."

Henshaw rubbed the back of his neck again.

"Like that's supposed to make me feel comfortable."

"This isn't about comfort, Mister Henshaw. This is about saving lives."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Just hope my life is on the list."

"I assure you, it is."

Henshaw sighed, wiping some of the sweat off of his brow. He then intently looked forward at Peggy.

"Alright."

"Mister Henshaw . . . . I've been investigating rumours of the existence of a particular organization for some time. Said organization has been officially declared destroyed since 1944, but I have reasons to suspect that they do in fact, exist still, and have been operating in secret for the last five years."

Henshaw gulped as he listened to Peggy speak.

"I have been conducting an investigation into this organization's activities, and my investigation has led me to you. So I want you to tell me something, Mister Henshaw . . . ."

Peggy took out a pen and wrote down a word on one of the napkins. She then passed it forward, and Henshaw looked at it.

"What do you know about this?"

Henshaw gulped again as he looked down at the word on the napkin.

Hydra.

Henshaw crumpled the napkin and stuffed it in his pocket.

"I, uh . . . . okay, look. I didn't know what I was gettin' into, alright? So don't . . . . don't . . . . throw me under a bus, or something."

"I'm here to help you, not hurt you," assured Peggy.

Henshaw scratched the hair on his head.

"Alright, alright."

"Start at the beginning."

"I work for Roxxon," started Henshaw. "Roxxon Oil. I'm in the finance department. Balancing books, going over pay documents, that sorta stuff. My partner, uh, friend, Calvin . . . . um, Calvin Halderman, uh . . . . you see, he came to me a few months back, oh, seven months ago, I'd say, so would've been about the end of March or so. Anyway, he, uh, he said that he got a line on a way we might be able to make some extra scratch."

Peggy narrowed her eyes as she listened, knowing that this might finally be the big break she had been hunting down for years.

"Said he'd made a contact, I never knew who. Said it'd be safer that way, if I didn't know. Anyway, all we was supposed to do was sometimes change a few documents, muddy up the numbers, send some funds to a secret account. We'd get a message every couple weeks askin' for stuff like that, and, each time we'd get a nice wad of bills for it. Figured it wasn't entirely straight, but what is? The pay was good and it was never like we were doin' anything really wrong. Not like laundering is as bad as murder."

Henshaw went silent for a minute or so, staring down at the table. Peggy let him take his time, knowing that he would speak when he was ready.

"Then, couple weeks ago . . . . overheard a phone call between Calvin and his contact. Sounded like the deal wasn't working out that great. Apparently we needed to move more money than usual, and Calvin said it might draw attention. Got heated. Then I heard a name, one that seemed odd."

"What name?"

"Strucker."

Peggy's heart nearly stopped upon the word dropping from Henshaw's tongue.

"You're certain?!"

"Yeah. Thought I'd heard it before, so I started doin' some digging on my own. Backtracking the money we'd moved, tried to learn more . . . . and found some ties that really shook me down. This Strucker guy . . . . I knew where I'd heard the name. From an old news report from the war. Propaganda mags. About, about how he worked for . . . . worked for . . . ."

Henshaw started breathing in and out again.

"It's alright," said Peggy. "That's more than enough."

"I just don't know what I'm supposed to do," said Henshaw. "I knew something wasn't right, but . . . . what now? They know that I know what's goin' on and they'll, they'll . . . ."

"Mister Henshaw, listen to me. If you want to be safe, and to help make up for what you've done, then you need to come with me."

Henshaw raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I needed to know what you know," continued Peggy. "Now, if you come with me back to my headquarters, you can be placed in witness protection and formally testify."

"Back to your . . . . how do I know I can trust you? What if you're . . . ."

"Mister Henshaw, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have requested we meet in a public place."

Henshaw looked around at the various patrons inside the restaurant. Taking another minute to think, he then nodded.

"Okay."

"Good. My car's outside."

Peggy and Henshaw stood up, and Peggy threw several bills onto the table. Angie walked by with a couple of plates in her hand, smiling when she saw the tip that was waiting for her. Peggy then led Henshaw towards the exit of the restaurant. They made their way through the revolving door and towards Peggy's vehicle, which was parked parallel to the sidewalk.

As they approached the car, Peggy felt a moment of apprehension. A small glint of light appeared in the corner of her eye, and she thought she could hear the faintest hint of a ticking noise. Quickly turning around, she seized Henshaw with both hands.

"GET DOWN!"

Peggy tackled Henshaw, and the two of them collapsed onto the sidewalk as her car exploded.