Moments
Prompt from a friend: "Two words - 'bar fight'"
My Brain: "Ooh. Like in Firefly's 'Train Job' (which is sadly not mine beyond DVD collection)? Hmmm..."
So yeah, here you go...
Bar Fight
"Have you taken your lunch yet?"
"No…" Peggy answered hesitantly, catching a trace of urgency to Jack's query through the garbled connection of their phone line. It told her that there was more to his question than a simple request to sneak a lunch date in during the hectic work week.
"Can you get away?"
She glanced at her desk with its backlog of reports, and then at the clock, and then around the bullpen. Daniel would still be another twenty or so with Dr. Samberly about that autopsy. Poor man drew the short straw today.
"Yeah sure. Where am I meeting you?"
She wrote down the address but not the rest of his instructions, and then gathered her things. To Williams, who was blessedly on the phone and thus unable to ask any questions, she said:
"I am going out to lunch. If Daniel asks, I have my D.I.D. beacon."
~A~
One of the things that Jack both loved and hated about Peggy Carter was that she is game for anything.
Steal uranium rods? Sure, let's make a party of it.
Spring a Russian spy from federal lock-up? That's a terrible no good idea, but let's go for it anyways.
Play hooky at the drop of the hat without an explanation? Why not?
This time, it is a trait that works in his favor, and he is grateful for it.
He was also grateful for the amount of trust that she just demonstrated that she had for him. Without any questions, she agreed to meet him in a less than respectable area of town and to 'lose the G-woman business look'.
As she was doubtfully looking over this greasy spoon/tavern's menu, he was pleased to see that she had ditched the navy pantsuit of this morning for a green floral print sundress, and not the fancy garden party kind, but the sturdy kind that can endure an afternoon of gardening. With as little as information that he had been comfortable conveying over the phone, she had nailed the part and was blending perfectly, probably better than he himself was, in this blue-collar crowd.
After she finished ordering (in her Midwestern American accent) her 'slider and a coke', she quietly asked him, "So does this little impromptu rendezvous have to do with your Darwin studies?"
It took him a moment, but he finally deciphered her code – Charles Darwin was the proponent of the 'Big Bang' theory, and Jack and his team were 'studying' last week's factory bombing.
Last week, the newspapers had reported that a local equipment manufacturing plant, one that had government contracts, had suffered an accidental explosion. The truth, however, was that it had been sabotaged by a well-placed bomb. Their fears were that since the anti-government party that was claiming responsibility did not get the media coverage that it wanted, they would try again, and it wouldn't be on the graveyard shift, when there could be fewer casualties.
"Yes," he acknowledged, and then continued to elaborate within her analogy in case of any eavesdroppers. "I think a few individuals here might know of those chaps who are interested in putting his theory into application again."
She nodded her understanding and then began to 'idly' scan the faces of their fellow patrons, most of who were big burly men from nearby construction sites or who looked to be down-on-their-luck poets.
After a few moments, she casually noted, "You know, this place does not seem to be a favorite of gents trying to impress their sweethearts. Wouldn't one of your fellow lab partners have been a better fit?"
He shook his head, "Anders and his cohorts are too intense. You, my lady fair, while stunning and impossible to ignore, will set them at ease." And just so she wouldn't think that he only asked her here to provide him cover as his eye candy, he added, "And because you have a better eye for detail."
She smirked at him for his over the top flattery, and then in a slightly louder tone (for the benefit of any curious or suspicious ears), she pouted, "And here I thought you invited me just for my company!"
He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, and while gazing into those gorgeous hazel eyes, he declared with all sincerity, "That was a perk too."
Before she could reply, one of the big burly patrons stood up and raised his frothing stein, asking in a deep booming voice, "Do you know what tomorrow is?"
Amongst quite a few rude answers there were a few shouts of "Armistice Day!"
To which, Burly declared, "That's right! Armistice Day, the day that the Western elite declared victory over all and began their tyranny…"
And so he began his pompous and ludicrous speech, spouting so much anti-American/Western government drivel that Jack had a difficult time not picturing cartoon balloons coming out of the man's ass.
He talked of how the World Wars were fought to keep the status quo going – the rich in power, the poor poorer, and the middle class vanishing. He even went so far as to say how Captain America was an example of 'how far the Powers-That-Be in our fascist government will go to stay in power', and then to top it all off, he practically admitted that he was responsible for the alleged factory 'accident'.
That last part sealed the man's fate. Jack was going to arrest that man and thoroughly enjoy questioning him. But as to the manner of his arrest, that was sealed when he badmouthed Steve Rogers in the presence of one Peggy Carter.
"So let tomorrow be an ass-picious day, a day when the common man takes back a little piece of his own!"
While everyone else raised their glasses in toast and then downed their beverages, Peggy glared at him.
Jack didn't know if that glare was for him inviting her out to a lunch where she would have to sit through such an insulting speech to Rogers' memory, for him inviting her to what should have been a nice lunch of simple spying but was in actuality an anarchist rally meeting, or if it was to warn him not to stop her from unleashing her fury.
He suspected, judging by the wrathful flames in her eyes, it was a combination of all three.
Without taking his eyes off of her, he drained what was left of his own beer (without raising it in toast) and then got up to head to the bar.
"Jack?"
"Just feel like another drink," he called out over his shoulder.
When he reached the bar, he signaled for another ale, and as he waited patiently for it, he made sure to jostle Burly who just 'happened' to be standing right next to him.
Burly turned around to glare at him, and his scowl only deepened when he took in Jack.
"You didn't toast. You know, Blue-eyed Blondie, I'm thinkin' you one of them Fascist Aryans."
"And I'm thinking you weren't burdened with a well-developed sense of self-preservation, or you wouldn't risk accusing a Marine who fought those bastards to be one of them," he dryly retorted.
The drunken fool didn't heed his warning however. Instead, he sneered, "Jarhead, were you? A bunch of sailor boys' bitches and silver-spoons' cannon-fodder. If it weren't for that A-bomb, you grunts woulda been wiped off them islands."
At this absurdly suicidal speech, Jack squared off with the man and snarled, "Say that to my face."
Burly squared off with Jack, all six-foot-five of him, and growled, "I said, you are a son of an Aryan bitch and a tool. Now whatcha gonna do about it?"
"Not a damn thing," he smirked. "I just wanted you to face me so she could get behind you."
Burly whirled around just in time for Carter to coldcock him.
And he was down for the count. Hoorah.
Of course, Burly's buddies took exception to this. All were up and out of their chairs and promising death in their eyes.
Jack looked to Peggy as he rolled up his sleeves, and when she gave him her nod of readiness (didn't he say she was game for anything?), he asserted with more stoicism than he had ever thought he would have had for this kind of situation:
"Fine. Let's do this."
~A~
She had to confess that she had been somewhat charmed at Jack using whatever excuse he could to see her.
Not so much when she realized that she was surrounded by idiots.
She had been furious with the man who dared to besmirch Steve's memory, but had truly seen red when the imbecilic audience cheered at his words.
But the biggest idiot of them all was Jack.
To land himself at a rally meeting for the factory bombers with only her for back-up was beyond daft. And then to purposefully pick a fight with the wanker (if she poked at snakes, he pokes at goddamn bears) just because he insulted her lost love…
Well, it was then that she pushed Howard's 'Dumb-arse In Distress' button to call for back-up.
She couldn't be too mad at him though. It had been immensely satisfying to silence that sanctimonious bastard. Almost hilarious, even if it had been with a closed fist.
It had been even more satisfying to have Jack at her back while they launched into a full-on bar brawl – chairs and bodies were flying as she and Jack kicked, punched, jabbed, and tossed their opponents every which way. By the time Daniel arrived with his cavalry, she and Jack were standing back-to-back with over a dozen moaning or unconscious bodies around them with only a few wily opponents to put in their place. God bless, Teddy.
Overall, not half-bad for a spontaneous undercover date. Not that she was going to tell Jack that. No need to make a habit of this or swell up his conceited pretty head any further.
While Daniel's team made quick work of the last men standing and he directed the clean-up, she and Jack went to collect their prize.
As she was slapping the cuffs on the man, who was just now groggily coming to, Jack asked curiously, "How did they know to come here?"
"Howard rigged up a distress beacon. Daniel has the receiver. I activated it when you went to 'just get a drink'."
"I'm hurt," Jack protested as he hauled their perp to his feet. "You thought you would need that?" He left off the 'on our date' part, but it was implied.
Peggy snorted softly, even as she batted her eyes at him dramatically, "You always take me to such the finest and most interesting of places, sweetheart. A girl has got to be prepared."
Jack grinned at her victoriously. She had called him 'sweetheart'.
"Nothing but the best for you, darlin'."
Between the two of them, Loudmouth groaned, "Stop the flirting. I think... I'm ... gonna be sick."
At Jack's perverse and delighted grin, Peggy cautioned, "Buttercup, you go right ahead, but I just want to remind you that it is your car we are transporting him in, and he is looking rather green around the gills."
Jack eyed the man warily, and then seeing that her assessment was correct, he sighed, "As you wish," but his blue eyes flashed with a completely different meaning, one that caused her 'gills' to flush a rosy pink.