Mr. Agent Carter
(Shot Eight)
Pale morning light streamed into the room, illuminating the four-poster bed and the couple still sleeping on it. A bowler hat hung nonchalantly from the bottom right post, and the white sheets dangled haphazardly near the floor on one side.
Peggy awoke to the same sound she had fallen asleep to: her husband's light snoring. She also realized that his arm was draped over her. They had both slept on their backs, and so his arm lay across her stomach, his hand resting at her left hip. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she turned her head towards him and smiled. Though perhaps it would take her a little while to adapt to sharing a bed, she couldn't help but adore the big, snoring creature she awoke next to.
Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly as the reality of the situation seeped in. She was on her honeymoon, in a hotel room near Niagara Falls, and nobody in this room currently had any clothes on. Still smiling, Peggy took a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes again, running her hand lazily across Dugan's arm. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been more at ease. The wedding had been a small affair. No stress. Angie had been her maid of honor, Howard Stark the best man, and the guest list had consisted of work colleagues and Howling Commandos. There was a reception, but she and her new husband hadn't attended. She smirked. Their friends had surely managed to have a good time without them.
What had her blushing was all that had followed, and now here she lay in the wonderful aftermath of it all. And besides all that, there wasn't any crisis that needed her attention. No disaster she had to rush into, for the moment anyway. She could literally lie in this bed all day and the free world would remain intact. In fact, that sounded quite tempting. Peggy was on a well-deserved vacation, and she was beginning to believe that she could embrace it.
She had just begun to slip back into a comfortable doze when a sudden movement startled her awake. As her eyes flew open, she became aware of an intense pressure on her left hip. It was him, she realized. Where a moment ago his hand had been gently resting, now he was clutching her hip like his life depended on it. And goodness, he had a firm grip. With a slight grunt, she wiggled out of his grasp and quickly turned to face him. He was still asleep, but now his breathing was more erratic and his muscles were clenching. And his face was almost heartbreaking. His eyes were squeezed shut and he had an awful grimace on his face. He looked so distressed, as if he were watching someone he loved die.
It occurred to Peggy that that might be precisely what was happening. Dugan was a soldier. He had seen action. It was pretty common for a man who had seen war to relive it in his nightmares. It brought a bit of a lump to her throat to see it happen to him, though. Even out in the field, she had rarely seen him without a bit of a twinkle in his eye. To see him in pain like this made her stomach twist.
Putting a hand on his chest, she pressed nearer to him. "Timothy," she attempted, "Timothy, darling…" She tapped his face with the flat of her hand. "Wake up."
Gaining no response, she got bolder. Sitting up, she took hold of his shoulders and shook him, repeating what she'd said before. Still, nothing. Spying a glass of water on the nightstand, she leaned over and dipped her fingers into it. She then flicked the droplets into his face. Inhaling suddenly through his nose, Dugan startled awake, his eyes fluttering open and darting everywhere. He didn't make a sound, only breathed heavily through his nose, his muscles rigid. Peggy watched him carefully, and after a moment, he met her gaze. She held it, barely blinking, and she could see it all play out on his face as he realized where he was and who he was with. The look of relief in his eyes allowed her to release her breath. She put a gentle hand to his face and smiled slightly as he immediately covered it with his own.
"You're alright, Timothy," she said softly.
He quirked a small smile of his own, though his eyes looked a bit watery now. He took one last deep breath. "I'm better than alright, Peggy. Look who I'm wakin' up to."
Her smile brightened at that, but it didn't shake her concern. "Would you like some water or something? Would you like to talk about it?"
"No to both; thanks, sweetheart, I'm okay." He stretched his arms and then wrapped them around her, bringing her forehead to his own and running a hand over her hair. "We're safe here together, and that's all I care about."
Peggy breathed him in and let herself enjoy his heavy hand as it stroked her head. She knew there wasn't much she could do if he didn't want to talk about it, and he obviously didn't. The best she figured she could do now was take his mind off of whatever he had dreamt. She kissed him, pressing against him fully, her eyes sliding closed as their lips met. The single tear that hit his pillow escaped her notice.
She smiled into their kiss as she felt his strong arms pull her closer still, his hand gliding up and down her spine. There now. She could practically feel his bad memories slipping away, every ounce of his focus shifting to her. She broke the kiss.
"What shall we do today, Timothy?" she asked coyly, "I was thinking perhaps we should be lazy." She stroked his face and ran her fingers through his hair. "We could stay in bed all day. What do you think of that?"
His sharp blue eyes brightened immensely, and he sighed, beginning to roll her onto her back. "I'm one lucky son of a gun," he said. He kissed her neck, eliciting a giggle from his wife, and was just thinking of kissing the rest of her when a loud knock on their door interrupted.
They both froze, hoping that whoever it was would just go away. Another knock followed shortly, however, along with a voice.
"Chief?" The man cleared his throat. "Chief…listen, I know you're on your honeymoon, but it's urgent. This is Jack Thompson. Open up."
A most unwelcome voice.
Dugan sighed heavily into Peggy's shoulder. "Damn," he muttered, pulling away from her.
She felt the absence immediately, and suddenly anger was bubbling up into her chest. Perhaps more anger than was necessary, but she couldn't help it. This was not supposed to happen. This was her honeymoon. The one time in her life when she truly expected S.H.I.E.L.D to leave her out of it. Was one undisturbed week really too much to ask? Could they not function that long without them?
Whatever the answers to those questions were, Peggy couldn't bring herself to tolerate this interruption. A wave of stubbornness consumed her all of a sudden. She was not getting out of this bed. She watched, brows furrowed, as Dugan half-dressed and answered the door, but she refused to so much as throw on a robe. Instead, she merely made certain that the sheets were covering her, and then propped up on one elbow, ready for the scene to unfold before her.
Thompson was soon face to face with an unsmiling Dugan, who was barefooted and bare-chested, in black pants with the suspenders hanging around his hips. The shorter man swallowed and forced himself to make eye contact with his superior.
"This had better be good, Thompson," Dugan said evenly.
"Of course, sir. Um…" Jack's train of thought derailed when he caught sight of Peggy over Dugan's shoulder. She was lounging in bed, her form only just covered by the sheets, and her eyes were boring into his, conveying both her interest and irritation.
"Hey." Dugan snapped once in front of Jack's face, drawing his attention back to him. "You look at me, not her. Now say what you have to say; what's this all about?"
Thompson straightened. "Sir, there's been an attack."
Dearest readers :)
I hope you've enjoyed. You made it clear to me earlier on that you wanted me to keep this story going, and so I will. I've received one request so far (thank you to 93MANIAC for that), so there will be at least one more one-shot. I'm open to more requests, so if you have one, don't be shy.
On that note, if you are wondering what attack Jack Thompson is talking about, I will admit…I don't know. So if you want me to build on that, you guys will have to help me think of what to do for it.
A special thank you to Spitfire303 for commenting so consistently, and to my most recent anonymous Guest for your input. I'm delighted to have your support.
All my love.
