Moments

A/N: Normally, I do not like to have my one-shots or any of my chapters this long, but as this is a 'Curse', there is much 'suffering' to be endured. But even so, I have broken it down into hopefully more bite-sized pieces, and will be posting each segment as fast as I can get them edited.

Anywho, enjoy!

The Christmas Curse

~1~

On the First day of The Curse, our chief gave to Jack

A green rookie…

"Thompson, my office!"

Jack made a face, much like a 12 year-old boy caught passing notes in class by the principal, but still he promptly abandoned his perch on the edge of her desk and did as ordered.

Peggy would have heaved a sigh of relief – one, for the brief reprieve from Jack's persistent questions as to what was on her Christmas wish list or whether or not she thought she deserved to be on Santa's naughty list, and two, it was his name and not hers that Johnson was calling – but, it was only a brief reprieve. Jack would be back again, and more importantly, just because it wasn't her in there, didn't mean she wouldn't be damned by association.

Her partner kindly remembered that from her desk she could still hear at least every third word and left the office door slightly ajar.

"Thompson, this is – " Johnson gestured towards the young man also in the office. As he was nothing but a silhouette from her vantage point, all she could tell was that he was shorter than Jack but not quite as short as their resident Napolean.

Jack shook the mystery man's hand, "Nice – meet you."

Mystery man mumbled something in response, before Johnson interrupted with, "Dep-ty –gent, you're – train – since you – bang – job with get- Ms. Carter up to – "

"Agent."

Jack's sharp tone cut through the bullpen hubbub just loud enough to cause everyone to hush, and for everyone to notice the sudden quiet in the big boss's inner-sanctum.

"Agent Carter, sir."

"Yes, that is what I said," was Johnson's coolly dismissive reply even as he began to rustle through his own stack of papers. "Now, get out – don't teach -ris here bad habits."

As soon as Jack and his new shadow reached her desk, she quipped, "Keep that up, Jack, and I am going to have to reconsider that lump of coal I got you."

"Don't write me off your Naughty list just yet, Carter," he leered, before retorting impishly, "You'll notice that I didn't deny that I was owed credit for your mad agent skills."

She resisted the urge to flick her pen at the pig-tail pulling boy, and instead introduced herself to the youthful-looking shadow, "Hello, I'm Agent Peggy Carter, and you are?"

"I'm Ira Norris," he replied with an eager handshake. "The new guy."

Although she was pleased to see that he did not raise any eyebrows at her, a female, being an agent, she was disconcerted by her first impression.

He had curly ginger-colored hair, dimples, and blue eyes that were not haunted by bloody-trenches past. He seemed to have all of Daniel's sweet ingenuousness and none of his or any of the other present agents' shark-like killer instinct. He was indeed a rookie, which raised all kinds of alarm bells, including the war-veteran instinct to get as far and as fast as she could away from the 'cannon-fodder' before she was eaten up too.

Despite all that, she smiled warmly and greeted, "Welcome to the team."

Oh, how she would regret that.

~2~

On the Second day of The Curse, Misfortune sent to us

Two Gypsies' "Blessings"

Thanks to the rookie…

The new guy was certainly eager to learn on the job and to prove his worth. Right now he was charging full-throttle after the possible witness to a Zodiac operation through the heart of Little Hungary, while Jack paused in his own dash to circle around the back to give her a boost to the alley's fire escape so that she could take the high road.

If she knew then, what she would know later, she would have sent Jack to rein him back.

But alas, she did not, and the young probationary agent was unable to halt his own progress when the fleeing witness slammed shut the little herb shop door behind him.

So Ira Norris plowed straight through the stained-glass window of the French door shattering it to glittering pieces and earning the wrath of the two Romani widows who ran the shop.

Even from her position atop the roof, she could hear the insults and objects being thrown at him. His earnest apologies did not earn him pardon however, necessitating that Jack abandon his attempt to cut off their quarry's exit to go in and rescue the lad.

The hysterics of the women were drawing such a crowd that she made the judgment call to quit their pursuit and provide back up, just in case the ever-growing and highly entertained audience became a lynch-mob.

From their perspective it was probably diverting indeed to see two elderly women chase three Feds down the street to their car, but from Peggy's perspective it was less than amusing, especially when the last thing she heard (in what little Romani she knew) before Jack peeled out of the district was their shrill voices shrieking:

"May your Magis confound you…!"

"…your admirers hound you…!"

"… your ghosts never cease to haunt you…!"

"…and your enemies needle you with a thousand pricks of pain…!"

"May your quarries ceaselessly evade you…

"…and your allies tax you with dues … until you beg for the Final Mercy!"

"Or pay thy Great Debt!"

Much later (after suffering no small amount of ridicule for being bested by 'little bitty broom-wielding harridans' back at the office), Jack observed:

"You've been awful quiet, Carter. Not too upset about losing our speedy spectator are you? I highly doubt we could have persuaded him to be a cooperative witness even if we had caught him. They're none too authority-friendly in that 'burb anyways."

"No, I'm trying to remember all of Dino Manelli's counter-jinxes for bad luck," she admitted with a self-deprecating huff of annoyance. This was quite the daunting task as the Howling Commando had a good luck/anti-jinx ritual for just about everything, or in Dugan's words "even for how to take a piss."

That admission drew him up short and caused him to eye her with actual genuine concern. When he saw that she was quite serious, he observed slowly, "As a long-standing member of the Strategic Scientific Reserve, I didn't take you to be a believer in superstition."

"I'm not saying that I am," she snapped, but before this could all escalate into one of their more heated spats, she continued more thoughtfully, "I am just…I saw a lot in the war. The kinds of things that just make me more open to the idea that there could be other forces in the world."

"You sound like my Nana Maria," he scoffed lightly.

"A wise woman," she sharply retorted.

"Yeah," was his only reply, as he got up to go file his final report for the day.

There was something in his tone of voice that made her suspect he thought the word 'woman' had more bearing on their conversation than the word 'wise'. It made her want to throw the procedural manual that Norris was pretending to read at him (Jack, the sexist pig, that is, although if it were to hit the rookie, she would be okay with that too.)

From the peanut gallery that was Sousa came the dry observation, "And here I thought our deputy was finally becoming a 20th Century man."

Peggy snorted in amusement, and because she was more than a little bit annoyed, she only half-heartedly defended her partner with, "Well, he didn't give me the lunch run when I was late on Election Day, so…"

"Lunch run?" inquired Norris.

"Yeah, lunch run. If you want to avoid ever having to remember a dozen or two different deli orders, arrive fifteen minutes early always and to everything," Daniel advised sagely.

Peggy got up to file her own report and left Norris in Daniel's capable hands so that she could clock out early. She just knew that tomorrow was going to be a long-ass day.

~3~

On the Third day of The Curse, my partner shirked to me

Three Lab-rats,

Their conspiracy,

And the rookie…

It was too bad she didn't take Daniel's advice this morning.

If she had, she might have been able to be the one who did the delegating, rather than the one being delegated to.

As it was, the first thing that she saw once the elevator doors opened on their floor was Alex Doobin and his two 'egghead' stooges waiting anxiously to pounce upon her. She knew it was her because all three of their bespectacled pairs of eyes lit with hope upon seeing her.

"We need to talk," greeted Dr. Doobin, and that was the only intelligible thing that she heard for the next fifteen minutes. An hour later was not much better, but at least then she had finally got them to quit talking over each other and to pause to take a breath between sentences. She had also gotten them to move back into their lab, where she was better able to resist the urge to slap off Jack's relieved and unapologetic expression, as she could no longer see it.

The gist of what she did understand was that they had been keeping track of scientists like Howard Stark, their more volatile inventions and key ingredients, especially Arthur Morey's Demagnetizer, which was so strong that it could break apart almost any chemical bond including a water molecule.

"Has Mr. Morey suffered the same ill-fate as Howard in the loss of his property?"

"Oh no – well, not unless you count an idea as property…" rambled the bald-headed gentleman.

"Oh, it's not him that has had things stolen from him," corrected the silver-haired one.

She cut them both off with an impatient look and turned to Doobin, who hastily explained, "Several of our colleagues in private labs and engineers at manufacturing companies have reported thefts of its key ingredients and significant parts that would indicate someone is trying to weaponize Morey's discovery…and the amount of items stolen indicates they have plans to supply an army, or several if they are in the arms-dealing business."

This was rather an alarming report, but she couldn't help but skeptically point out, "If that was the case, why haven't any of the agencies been investigating it? When Howard's stuff got into the wrong hands, you'd be hard-pressed to find an alphabet soup that wasn't nosing about and hurling accusations at him, especially if it gave them a chance to have their name in the print or on the air. Mr. Hoover certainly never missed out."

"Well, Mr. Morey certainly doesn't go about promoting the kind of reputation that Stark does either," half-sniffed, half-mumbled Silver-fox.

Although she mostly agreed with the irritating man, she heartily wished he wouldn't waste her time with his opinions and would just stick to the pertinent facts.

Sensing her rising levels of impatience, Doobin again hastily intervened, "Well, it's not come to official attention yet, as the thefts, most of them anyways, haven't been reported to anyone. We only know about them, because we have cultivated friendships with individuals in the community who are not as tight-lipped about company secrets as their bosses might like."

"Bosses who don't want to lose government contracts if it were known that their security had been breached," Baldy unnecessarily explained.

Finding that their case of concern had merit – now that they finally gotten around to explaining it clearly, Peggy proceeded to interrogate them for every detail of the thefts, names of their contacts, and their suppositions on what kind of equipment and set up the crooks would need to begin their nefarious mass production.

She had more than a low-grade headache by the end of that convoluted and jargon-heavy conversation and an even greater one after pleading her case (more concisely) to Johnson, but it was nearing a full-blown migraine as she began her actual investigation and was met with stonewall after stonewall from the face-saving victims.

Jack and Norris took pity on her and attempted to help her out, when not covering hers and Jack's normal case load. Not that she had an ounce of grace left to convey her gratitude, and the rookie found himself on the wrong end of her sharp tongue more than once. (It was a good thing for Matthews' sake that he was out sick with pneumonia or he would have never survived her wrath).

Jack took pity on the probationary agent, after one of her more impressive snarls, and attempted to teach him how to make tea 'the Brit way'.

After overhearing that conversation and sipping the probie's surprisingly good first attempt, she made an effort to reduce her snarls to mere grumbles. She also began working on forgiving Jack for his foisting the scientists off onto her.

Not that she was going to tell him that.

~4~

On the Fourth day of The Curse, Carter sicced on me

Four badge bunnies,

Their lack of bound'ries,

And the rookie…

The next morning presented the perfect opportunity to wreak her vengeance.

An informant of Daniel's had gone missing. His half of a duplex had been ransacked and a man vaguely fitting his description had been hustled into a black sedan according to the initial beat cop's report. Daniel, understandably, had called in for assistance.

When she arrived at the address that Rose had given her, Daniel, Ramirez, and Palmer were there and had divvied up the rooms in the home to search – all except the front room where four women had been sequestered and studiously avoided.

As soon as she and Daniel were at a discreet distance she inquired quietly, "Who are they?"

"The neighbors and witnesses of the alleged kidnapping, per the beat cop's report," he hissed back.

She scrutinized the potbellied bleary-eyed officer monitoring the 'witnesses', before asking pointedly, "Per his report? Why haven't any of you gotten a statement yet?"

Daniel sighed sheepishly and tinged a pale pink, even as Ramirez paused his search of the kitchen to gleefully supply, "We were warned by the local bobby here that they're badge bunnies."

It took all she had in her not to roll her eyes at Ramirez's antics or snort in amusement, especially when she gave the women a second look.

The oldest was a blond woman who appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties, but who dressed like a twenty-something – pale pink, low cut and girlish. The youngest two were younger versions of her, most likely her daughters, but wore bolder, brighter colors and had even shorter hemlines, and they were a little more brazen in their flirtatious eye-batting whenever Ramirez, Daniel, or Palmer glanced in their direction. The fourth looked to be closer to the mother's age, and although she was dark-haired, she had similar enough features that she might have been the girls' aunt. She was the most brazen of all. Her dress was form-fitting, and her hungry gaze never left her three male colleagues. It made Peggy think 'cougar' in more ways than one.

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and admitted abashedly, "We were kind of hoping you would interview them…"

She was just about to mutter something along lines of 'cowards' when the Interview King himself and his shadow finally decided to roll in.

"Oh no, no. I have a much better idea…" she practically cackled, and before Jack could dominate the room as was his wont, she signaled the beat cop and called out, "This Agent here, Agent Thompson," (she made sure to enunciate clearly for the benefit of the female audience), "will be taking the ladies' statement."

Jack was no fool and he picked up on her tone of voice, but after assessing the seemingly harmless witnesses, he moved forward with his usual confidence and introduced himself with his most ingratiating smile, "Hello ladies, I am Agent Thompson and this is my colleague, Agent Norris."

And with that smile, the ladies swarmed.

By the end of it all, Jack was somehow seated on the sofa with mother on one side, daughters on the other, and aunt lounging on the back so that she could huskily whisper into his ear.

Peggy made sure Ramirez captured this moment for all eternity (or as long as the photograph print lasts) before proceeding to help Daniel box up his CI's office files. This task gave her ample opportunity to eavesdrop on the conversation as she carted the boxes out of the house to Daniel's waiting car.

"An agent? Like a federal agent? Does that mean you have more authority than Officer Rogers here?"

"Do you carry .38 or .357?...I've heard that they are more powerful. That seems just perfect for you."

"Oh, it was sooo scary, seeing him being shoved into that car. He was such a nice man…What is this world coming to? Do you have your office anywhere near here, Agent Thompson? I just know that I would feel a lot safer, if I knew that you were nearby serving and protecting…"

At one point, the rookie tried to offer her assistance, either out of gentlemanly habit or the need to escape their clutches, but she shooed him off with an "Oh no, Agent Norris, I wouldn't dare dream of depriving you the opportunity of learning from the master interviewer himself, just for little ol' me."

Jack must have overheard her, because he quit trying to edge away from looming Cougar Auntie to shoot her a resentful glare, to which she responded by playing exceedingly dumb.

Eventually, Jack was able to extricate himself by stating that he needed to go examine the garage. Norris hastily asserted that he would need to follow, as it looked as if the younger girls were going to latch onto him next.

As soon as they were out the door and Officer Rogers began to escort them back to their residence, Peggy (vaguely) introduced herself to them, "Hello, I'm assisting Agent Thompson on this case, and I just know that he was most appreciative of all the information that you gave him." Over their modest demurring, she handed them a card with the main SSR office number and said, "If you have any further details that you remember – anything at all – please feel free to call here and ask for him. He would be most grateful."

They were so eager in snatching it out of her hand, that Peggy knew she needed to get back to the office soon, so that she could let Rose know to forward all of their calls directly to Jack's extension.

Rose did. And poor Jack had to endure their ceaseless calls with 'tips' and requests to meet up at cafes (or bars depending on the lady) and had to fend off all of their sexual overtures and advances. This provided several excellent teaching moments for the probie about the dangers of this type of woman for an agent's career and how to best dodge them.

Jack handled both the women and the teaching moments with such professionalism that Peggy started to feel guilty for setting him up to begin with, especially when it looked like he wanted to take his .357 pistol and shoot his phone to smithereens.

When it rang for what seemed like 37th time in just that afternoon, she beat Jack to it and answered, "Hello, this is Margaret…Oh no, I am sorry. Agent Thompson is gone for the day…Yes, yes, I will be sure to tell him you called…Thank you very much. Bye now."

After hanging up, she called Rose and said, "If those ever-so-helpful women call tomorrow, can you please tell them that they have the wrong number or some other excuse?"

"Can it be that he is out sick…with something like mono?"

It took every ounce of moral strength she had not to smirk at the idea of the switchboard ladies passing on the rumor that Jack had the kissing disease, but she managed it and merely said, "Yes, that will do."

She blamed her pettiness on The Curse. (And yes, that would help her sleep tonight.)

After she hung up, Jack's shoulders which had been tensing up all day were sagged in relief, and his big blue eyes were wide and piteously begging, as he asked, "Are we even now, Marge?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Have you learned your lesson?"

She tried to keep her countenance bland, if not stern, (it was getting harder and harder to do so with Jack lately), but she must have failed, because his worried frown transformed into a soft smile.

He nodded in both acknowledgment of the reprimand for yesterday's antics and in silent apology, even as he threw her a mocking salute and exited stage left whistling as he went, leaving her to supervise the rookie's report writing. The bloody bastard.