A/N: ...Please don't kill me for starting another story. I can't help it. Anyway, here it is.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Being invited to join her colleagues for an after work drink made her feel like a child again; the feeling of being included was so foreign to her, she had forgotten what it felt like. As a teen, she had attended St. Teresa's Boarding School for young ladies in Surrey, and even then her circle of friends had been very small. She followed the men out, casting one last glance at where Sousa sat at his desk, his eyes boring holes into his desk.
"Carter, come on, what's the hold up?" Jack's voice called out down the hall, startling Peggy into motion, and she was surprised to discover that he had waited for her.
"Nothing. I'm just tired is all," She explained, waving a hand in dismissal, but joined him regardless. She followed him to his car and slid into the passenger seat of the car, determined not to be deterred by the awkward air. All the others had gone ahead, and Peggy and Jack were left alone to drive over together.
He started the car and was silent for a time, though the silence was not terribly uncomfortable. After a long moment, he said: "Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like without the war?"
Peggy hummed thoughtfully, carefully assessing the faraway look in his eyes. "Truth be told, I never really thought about it. The war, and everything that came with it, consumed me. I don't know who I would have been without it," She took a moment to consider his scenario, and swallowed the disdain she couldn't express with words. Without the war, she would likely be leading the life that Angie thought she was living: working at the phone company and living at a women-exclusive hotel until she was married. Oh, she might have found a better job somewhere, perhaps, but the outcome would have been the same.
"I was supposed to be lawyer," He said, and began the short drive to the bar the SSR Agents frequented, a family owned bar called Bourbon & Branch. "My father is a hotshot lawyer up in Boston… I'd just gotten my acceptance letter to Harvard when the war broke out."
Peggy looked at him, surprised. He had a gift for speaking, and negotiating, to be sure, but he generally seemed to prefer using his fists. "You still could be," She said gently, unsure of what to say.
"Nah," He said, offering her a genuine, sad smile. "I wouldn't know what to do in a school room anymore, let alone a courtroom." He laughed quietly as they pulled into the bar parking lot. They said nothing else as they walked into the bar, and the intimate air dissipated. Thompson bought Peggy her bourbon, as he promised, and the two slipped into a comfortable silence as they enjoyed their colleagues company and mindless chatter. They sat there for hours, neither participating in the conversation much, content to let their coworkers do the talking for them.
It had never occurred to Peggy that Jack might have had a different kind of life; he was quick to resort to violence, his suits were cheap for all that his ties were expensive, and his general manners seemed, for the most part, lacking. Knowing what she did now, however, she thought she understood. Even amongst the other agents, he was set apart; his intelligence, and his handsome face, were well-regarded and his success was often attributed to those factors. But people who came from upper class family's typically had a different kind of way about them, a different kind of grace, and it made them easy to pick out. Jack was trying to erase that grace, to remove himself from that part of his history. He wore cheap suits. and allowed a little crassness to seep into his mannerisms, to fit in with his blue-collar coworkers. He was literally attempting to reinvent himself.
Peggy found it ironic that, for all his popularity, he was working just as hard to fit in as she was. She looked at the clock on the wall, noting that the time read 9:15, and finished her drink. "I'll see you all at work tomorrow, gentleman," She interrupted their conversation gently, standing and pulling her coat on.
"Leaving so soon, Carter?" Jack questioned, his brow furrowed in confusion as he appraised her.
"It's been a long day, and I could use a good night's sleep," She didn't want to admit that she had a curfew; it would only serve to set her apart from them further.
"I'll give you a ride," Jack said, and pulled a few bills from his wallet to pay for their drinks, slinging his jacket on over his shoulders. If it had been anyone else offering her a ride home, their exit would have been accompanied by jeers and insinuations. As it was, for all that they didn't respect her as an Agent, they respected Jack, and didn't dare incur his wrath. If she were another kind of woman, she would have been flattered at his chivalry. As it was, she had seen what true chivalry looked like, and even though it wasn't truly Jack she blamed, it burned her that they would not curb their tongues because they respected her.
Still, Peggy didn't protest to his offer, not wanting to upset the uneasy alliance they had made in Russia, but was unsure how to handle another awkward car ride. She gave him her address as they settled into the car, and Jack did not delay the drive as he had on the way over.
"You never answered my question earlier, Carter." He said, curiosity evident enough in his tone that she didn't need to see his eyes.
She sighed, but answered regardless: "Without the war I would likely have returned to England, as my father's business here was the only reason my family moved here in the first place. I would have gotten a job as a secretary, or a clerk, due to my education, and worked until I was married," She could not hide the bitterness in her tone.
Jack surprised her by laughing, his lips quirking upwards into their trademark smirk. "Oh, I don't think so," He took his eyes off the road to look at her, amusement glimmering in his eyes. "War changes us, for sure, but it mostly just amplifies what was already there. I don't think you would have stood for it, Carter,"
And Peggy doesn't respond to it, at least not verbally, but she smiles anyway and thinks to herself that that might be one of Thompson's truest observations. They arrive at the Griffith's with twenty-minutes to spare until her curfew, but Peggy knows how Miriam looks down upon those who cut it close. "Thanks for the ride, Jack," As she opens the door and steps onto the curb, she belatedly realizes that it is the first time she has called him by his first name, at least to is face.
"Peggy?" And there is Angie, waiting just outside the door of the hotel as a few of the other boarders walk inside, casting curious glances at Peggy.
"I'll be right there," Peggy calls, smiling, though she dreads the interrogation that is likely to follow.
"Goodnight, Jack, and thank you again," Peggy says, smiling, and goes to shut the door, only pausing when she hears him speak.
"You're welcome, Peggy," He replies sincerely, meeting her eyes with a small smile. It is. she thinks, the first time he has used her first name without accompanying with jibe, and she is surprised at how nice it feels.
She shuts the car door, and watches him drive away. Angie is still waiting for her inside the doors.
"So, who's the dreamboat?" She asks, just as Peggy is close enough to hear her.
"A… friend, a colleague," Peggy says, stumbling over the term. It was difficult to think of Jack in those terms, when a few days ago she wouldn't have truly felt comfortable calling him either.
"Is that all he is, then?" Miriam's imperious voice questioned, almost making Peggy jump. The older woman
"Quite." Peggy replied, maneuvering around Angie to climb the stairs to her room, though it did nothing to deter Angie from following her.
"Oh yeah? Where'd you meet him? What's his name? How come you've never mentioned him before? And where were you the other night, by the way?" Angie peppered her with questions, and Peggy knew she wasn't going to get out of answering them. She sighed and unlocked the door to her room, allowing Angie to follow her inside. "...Did you spend the night at his place?"
This scandalous question made Peggy flush, and caused her to slam the door shut. She chastised the girl immediately. "Maria Angelina Martinelli, how dare you insinuate that my behavior was… indecent," She hissed, not putting it past Mrs. Fry to be eavesdropping at doors to insure that men had not defiled any of her young ladies.
"Alright, sheesh," Angie said, backing off, but stared at Peggy expectantly to answer her questions.
Peggy began to change, and used the moment to compose a believable story. "I told you that a… colleague had passed away suddenly, right?" And Angie nodded, waving her hand for Peggy to continue. "Well, he died under suspicious circumstances. The janitor found him in the morning, dead at his station," She lied, turning her back to Angie as she dressed. "The man who dropped me off tonight is an officer of the law, a detective - though he said he prefers the term 'Agent'. He came back to the company tonight to questions us about Ray, and he noticed that I was still a little shook up about the whole thing and offered to drive me home so I wouldn't have to walk so late at night. I spent the night at Marlene's - I told you about her, didn't I? - because her boyfriend broke up with her, and she was dreadfully upset about it. Satisfied?"
Angie shrugged. "I guess. Not going to lie you, Peggy, I was kind of hoping you were doing something a little fun, a little scandalous. You could use it. You're always so serious, you know?"
Peggy sat down at her vanity and began to remove the pins from her hair, setting them in a neat pile. "I suppose I am, now that you mention it. I just… don't have time for frivolity." She began to brush her hair, ignoring the pointed looks Angie threw her way in the mirror.
"Well, maybe this detective - excuse me, Agent - will make you make the time. What's his name again?" Angie asked, standing and making her way to the door.
"His name is Jack. Jack Thompson."
The next morning, Peggy woke early and set to getting ready for the day. Her morning routine was set, but something about the day felt different, and Peggy attributed it to the rainy weather. She went downstairs to breakfast and took her usual seat beside Angie, murmuring a quiet good morning, and ate her breakfast.
"So, Peggy, who was the guy who dropped you off last night?" Asked Jenny, a newer resident that Angie had taken under her wing. And with that question, it was as if the floodgates had opened, and Peggy was assaulted by questions. She gave them the same answers that she had given to Angie, and was glad to leave the table when she had finished eating.
She caught a cab and made her way to work, grateful there had been a spare cab; usually in such weather, an empty cab was as rare as gold. The office was quiet as most of the other agents didn't arrive until nine, but Peggy preferred to arrive early and get settled. Morning shifts were her favorite. The office was quiet, her shift ended at two and left her the afternoon to do with as she pleased, and it left ample time for her private investigation in the evening.
"Carter!" Peggy was surprised to see Jack standing in the doorway of Dooley's office; he almost always had the night shifts. He had explained to Sousa once that he wasn't a morning person, and coming to work in the morning hungover was unprofessional. "Come 'ere,"
Peggy obeyed, hanging her coat on the coat rack, and walked into Dooley's office. "Yes?" She asked, waiting for one of the men to speak.
Dooley looked at her hard, and then turned his gaze back to Jack in a cold, inquisitorial way. "I've got an assignment for you," He said, and waited.
What, precisely, he was waiting for escaped her. "It's 8:30 in the morning sir, surely the lunch order could wait?" Well, no one had ever called her a morning person either.
Jack stifled a laugh underneath a cough, and sat, suddenly looking more relaxed than when she had come in. Dooley smiled briefly before sighing and folded his hands in his lap. "You're partnering with Agent Thompson, going undercover. There's a party this weekend, a charity benefit where all the rich glitterati are gathering. Stark is supposed to be there, but he's on the run from the United States government, so I'll doubt he'll show. However, there are some people I'd like you to talk to you." He passed her the invitation, and the dossier of people she was supposed to interrogate. "More than that, the gala is being held at the Waldorf Astoria. There's a man staying there, goes by the name of Mikhail Polzin. Stark's bank records show that they've done quite a bit of business. Find his room, search it, see what turns up. It might be nothing, it might be somethin', but by God you're gonna find out. Got it?"
"Yes sir," Peggy replied, skimming over the dossier and invitation with interest. She frowned slightly, chewing her bottom lip, when she red the invitation over.
"Problem, Carter?" Dooley asked sharply, seeing the look on her face.
"Just an inconvenience sir, I'll get it taken care of." Peggy said, not wanting to risk getting taken off the case for something so trivial; the event extended beyond her curfew.
"Well Carter, spit it out. I want this to go as smoothly as possible. If there's an 'inconvenience', I want it fixed before it becomes a problem. What is it?" Dooley pressed, and Peggy withheld a sigh.
"You heard about the death of my roommate?" Peggy asked, and waited for the Chief to nod. "I had to relocate after her death… I couldn't stay there. I moved into the Griffiths Hotel, which is a boarding house for young single ladies. The landlady, Mrs. Fry, imposes a very strict ten o'clock curfew." She confessed, hating the idea that such a little thing could rob her of her opportunity to prove herself.
"Oh, I don't think it'll be a problem, Chief," Jack said, shaking his head, and stood, grinning.
"You got a plan?" Dooley asked, leaning back in his seat with an inquiring glance. Jack nodded, and the wicked amusement in his eyes gave Peggy pause, but she didn't press him. Dooley held up his hands and shook his head. "I don't want to know, just make it work, Carter. Familiarize yourself with your targets, and make sure you've got something presentable to wear. Dismissed,"
Peggy and Jack exited his office, walking in-step to Peggy's desk. "You've got a plan already?" She asked disbelievingly; he'd had as much time as Dooley to understand the implications of her issue.
"Women love me, Carter. I'll just talk to your landlady and get it sorted." He said with easy confidence and utter surety.
She rolled her eyes and sighed, sitting down. "I guess I'd better start looking for a new apartment then,"
"Have a little faith, would you?" Jack said, grinning. "I'll swing by your place tonight to pick you up. You can introduce me to your landlady then,"
"What?" Peggy asked, taken by surprise. Oh, that would set the girls talking, alright. Especially since she had emphasized that they were only acquaintances.
"Well, if we're going to date, I'd better get your warden's approval before I take Cinderella to the ball," He said, his grin widening further. He winked. "Tell you what, let's make a bet: If I can get your landlady's approval to extend your curfew, you'll owe me a favor. If you win, and I can't, I'll owe you a favor. Deal?"
Peggy snorted. "If I win, you'll pay the first month's rent at my new apartment - because I'll need a new apartment after I miss my curfew."
"Deal," Jack grinned, radiating confidence. "Wear something pretty tonight, Carter," He ordered with a cavalier grin, and went to his desk to go over the dossier.
Angie would never let her live this down. Peggy sighed.
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