So here's a little scene that popped into my head. It takes place sometime in 1948. Sorry if there are any errors, I did my best to weed them out but let me know if anything is wrong so I can fix it. Thanks for reading!

Jack was not surprised to see Peggy Carter chase that idiot suspect of theirs down the cliff he chose as his escape. The smuggler that they had pursued all the way to the beach was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Surely he should have known that there was no escape, especially not from Carter. God that woman was determined.

He was a little offended that she felt the need to chase the poor bastard down the cliff. It was almost like she didn't think he'd make it to the bottom in time.

He leaned against his car and watched as the smuggler lost his footing about a fourth of the way down. Marge lost hers soon after, which Jack thought to be quite impressive considering the fact that she was the one in heels.

Jack collected the poor man at the bottom of the slope as soon as he rolled to a stop. It seemed as if the cliff had beaten any remaining will to fight out of the smuggler. The man didn't even protest as Thompson scooped him up by his collar and threw him into the backseat of the cruiser.

Thompson then directed his attention to Carter. She seemed to be fine, well as fine as anyone could be after rolling down a considerable slope. Jack wasn't too worried, he'd seen her survive much worse. "Need a hand?"

"Mmm fine," she grunted, but paid him no more attention. Peggy was busy untangling herself from the foliage and other debris she has picked up during her hasty descent. Her clothes were in poor condition, especially her blouse.

"Marge, where the hell did you get that?" Jack was horrified as he caught a glimpse of the angry red scar on her side. He was trying to be a gentleman, he saw the scar before he had the chance to look away.

Peggy immediately scrambled back to her feet and tried to tuck her torn blouse back into her pants. He efforts, however, remained futile. Rolling down that cliff really did a number on her shirt. "It's nothing, Jack."

He was immediately skeptical. After she turned around and limped back to the car his concern only grew as he noticed that she had a matching scar on her back.

Now while Jack Thompson was no medical professional he knew enough to know that the nasty little number on Carter's side was recent. The scar looked all too similar to the one on his chest. The confusing thing was he couldn't figure out when it happened. He'd been closely working with Carter for the greater part of the previous year and when that case was wrapped up she was deep in the Whitney Frost fiasco. Sure, there were a few weeks in August and the greater half of September that he spent in the hospital after being shot by god only knows who, even Peggy had yet to figure that one out, but he was pretty sure he'd notice if Marge had a hole in her side. Sure the days blurred together while he was in a drug induced haze, but he wasn't that out of it. He had enough of his wits to put together that she and Sousa were now a thing. He was sure he would've noticed Carter's injury. If not from her then from Danny Boy. Daniel had the worst poker face when it came to Peggy. Jack also had it on good authority that the scar on Carter's side would be something that Sousa would know about. But during those five awful weeks of attempted small talk and guard duty, Jack picked up on no such thing.

He considered the possibility that she acquired the scar after he headed back to New York, but that seemed unlikely. She was too busy running around the country after Vernon Masters and he figured that an injury like that would put her on the bench for a while. Then again, this was Carter. After working with her for two years, Jack learned that when it came to Peggy, he should expect nothing. By god, that woman was always full of surprises.

She was quiet as he slid into the driver's seat. Before starting the vehicle Jack gave her a quick look over to make sure she was alright before they headed back to the office. Peggy was wearing one of the spare jackets that they left in the trunk of the car. She had a few scrapes and bruises and she was dirty as hell, but besides that she seemed fine.

Their suspect seemed to have nodded off in the back. Jack figured the exhaustion from escaping Carter took its toll. He didn't blame the guy. He'd run for his life too if Peggy came chasing after him with a gun and an arrest warrant.

At first Thompson said nothing as they drove back to the city, but as time wore on he found that he could no longer contain his curiosity.

"Where did you get that scar, Carter?"

"It's none of your business, Chief Thompson." Peggy snapped.

"Looks pretty serious," he mused. "The funny thing is that I don't recall you taking time off or even a hospital visit."

"You haven't known me for that long." It was a weak excuse and they both knew it, but that didn't stop Peggy from trying. "Perhaps it was from my time during the war."

Jack was almost insulted that she thought he would buy that crap. "That scar isn't two years old. What happened?"

"I don't see why this is necessary."

"Carter! When did you get shot?" Jack wasn't even sure if her scar was from a bullet wound, it didn't look like one, but it seemed to be the most plausible explanation for matching holes in her side.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I like to be informed when my agents should be put on medical leave." Yes, he was concerned. Carter was too good of an agent to lose.

"I'm not your agent anymore," She protested.

"I'd bet you a month's pay that you were still with the New York office when you managed to do that."

She'd only officially been working for Sousa's office for the past month. The only reason she was in New York was that she refused to let Thompson get the credit for arresting the weapons smuggler she had been chasing.

"You don't need to worry about me, Jack."

He was sure that Sousa was doing enough worrying for the both of them and then some. Believe it or not, Carter had grown on him. When she wasn't causing trouble he was quite fond of her. He would never admit to it, but he considered Peggy to be a friend.

"I just want to know what happened." He paused. Now was the time to choose his words carefully. "I'm concerned."

Peggy rolled her eyes, "You shouldn't be."

"Carter," he warned. "Who did that to you?"

Thompson was tempted to pull rank, but he was smart enough to know that by doing so he would only be moving backwards.

She was quiet for a minute. Jack waited patiently for her response. He figured she was trying to decide whether it was worth it to keep arguing with him. Usually she could do it all night, but he could tell she was tired. Sooner or later she would break. They had over an hour before making it back to civilization, he had plenty of time to wear her down.

"Whitney Frost."

Jack was surprised. "Frost? She shot you?!" He'd expect that she would've used that space goop on Peggy, not a gun. It wasn't her style.

"She didn't shoot me," Peggy corrected him. "I was impaled."

"Why did she do that?" That was even more out of the ordinary. Thompson got the impression that Whitney Frost didn't leave messes and the last time he checked impalements were rather messy.

"She didn't. At least not intentionally," Peggy sighed. "I was attempting to avoid Zero Matter and unfortunately in the process I was accidentally impaled by some rebar."

Jack didn't remember reading about this in the Isodyne report, nor did he hear about it in the debriefing. This, of course, meant that whatever Peggy was doing before she got impaled was illegal. He knew that she would never admit to where, but his money was on ROXXON. It was all falling into place. Dottie Underwood's escape made a lot more sense now. Peggy could not have crashed that campaign fundraiser, even if she wanted to.

It also dawned on Thompson that Peggy also completed the rest of the mission with said injury and then spent the next month telling him how he should not rush to leave the hospital. Though her hypocrisy would have to wait, he had much more pressing matters to address, such as the fact that she was stupid enough to complete the mission with a goddamn hole in her side. He wouldn't be surprised if she just had that butler friend of hers stitch it up.

"So you're telling me that you decided instead of going to a hospital and seeking proper medical attention, you thought it would be a good idea to just proceed on your merry way with a goddamn hole in your side?!" He was angry now. How could Carter be so stupid?

Peggy took offense to this and cocked her head in indignance. "I did receive proper medical attention."

"Jarvis doesn't count."

"I am far more resourceful than you give me credit for," she scoffed.

Jack shook his head. She was unbelievable. Un-be-lievable. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

"There were more pressing matters at hand," She snapped. "And I didn't believe it to be worth mentioning."

Yeah, a fucking hole in her stomach not worth mentioning in the slightest. "How could you be so stupid! You could've died, Marge."

"I didn't," Peggy quipped. He had a feeling that this wasn't the first time she had this conversation.

His scowl deepened, "That's not the point! Just because you somehow managed to go on your merry way and save the world with a goddamn hole in your abdomen doesn't mean it's a good decision."

"I never said it was, but my options were limited. May I remind you, we were facing a possible Armageddon. And I'll have you know that I did not go on my merry way. I was quite sore for a few weeks, but I assure you I was fine."

"Carter," he warned. His tone softened. "You need to be more careful." He'd hate for the SSR to lose its best agent. Not that he would ever admit it to Marge, but she was a damn good agent.

"I am well aware of my limitations," Peggy retorted coldly.

"Fine," Jack sighed and finally relented. "Don't do it again"

"I make no promises."

He just shook his head and frowned. Jack remained quiet for a few minutes when another thing occurred to him. When he tried to get the hell out of LA as soon as they released him from hospital she practically kidnapped him and dragged him over to Stark's until he was cleared to fly. She even sicced Jarvis on him, which he found to be quite unfair. And she ran around with a hole in her side and no one seemed to mind. The double-standards these people had...

"You're a goddamn hypocrite, you know that?"

"Shut up, Thompson."

Comments are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!