Moments
A/N: Sorry for the delay, but here is the next installment : )
Enjoy.
Up to Snuff - Part A
Peggy nursed her second cup of breakfast tea while she worked on the latest batch of intercepted encryptions.
She wasn't making very much progress as the office was fairly simmering with tension. Phone conversations were muffled, and keys were quietly tapped as her colleagues worked on their reports. All were nervously glancing at the Chief's office.
Thompson had yet to do his early morning shtick, and it was nearing a quarter til ten.
Whenever Jack did come out of there, it was going to be a doozy. Dottie/Ida had gotten away again last night.
Or so, Daniel had hastily whispered when she arrived. She hadn't been called in for the emergency sting operation, as she had been given the night off to watch the premiere of Angie's first 'gig'.
She was contemplating who of the four non-hospitalized unfortunates that let Dottie/Ida slip through their fingers was the highest ranking on Jack's 'shit-list', when the boss man himself finally made his appearance.
"Listen up!" he began, his thumbs hooked in his braces. "It has come to my attention that our enemy is far better trained than us. Considering that they have been indoctrinated since an early age, this is no surprise. But I have severely underestimated its impact on our competency to engage with them when we do manage to find the bi- witches."
Peggy glanced around the room to gauge everyone else's reaction. She caught Daniel's eye and knew he was thinking the same thing – Jack, their egotistical his-shit-doesn't-even-stink Jack, was making what sounded like an apology.
She was going to go out and by a lottery ticket today.
Everyone else's reactions ranged from vastly relieved that their asses weren't getting publicly chewed out, to affronted that he ranked their skill levels as inferior, or to skeptical as if they were waiting for the other shoe to drop.
These last were the wisest of the bunch.
"So I have brought in a trainer who will be working with each and every one of us to rectify the matter. He will begin evaluating you on your competency level this week. There will be three of these first initial groups. I will be sending out the schedule of who is in which group and when they will be. That will be all."
Over the rising din that this announcement prompted, Thompson hollered, "Carter, my office!"
Ignoring all of the eyebrows that rose in question at this curt order, she obeyed, replying meekly, "Yes, sir."
When she arrived, he was for once sitting behind the desk, rather than sitting perched on the edge of it as was his unfathomable want. As soon as she had shut the door, he looked up from the stack of papers in front of him to inquire, "You don't have any plans tomorrow night, do you?"
"No…" she replied warily. "Am I going to wish that this wasn't the case?"
His eyes lit up with boyish mirth at her discomfort, even as he explained, "Possibly. You and I are going to meet with the trainer tomorrow."
Peggy bristled at that. In her most clipped I-am-unamused voice, she asked, "And is there a reason that I am being singled for such an honor, sir?"
"Oh, there are many," was his prompt sardonic reply.
"Indeed?"
With a grin, he leaned back in his chair and began counting them off on his fingers, "You, sweetheart, are the best, and if I am going to spar with anyone for the purposes of honing my own edge, it will be by the best and…" Here, he paused significantly, his grin vanishing, "the most discreet."
While she was flattered by his compliment, Peggy knew when she was being buttered up. She was far more awed by the level of trust in her that he just displayed. For in that last little bit, he had revealed a weakness.
If she wanted to oust him as Chief, all she had to do was let it be known how soundly she would indubitably and repeatedly beat him in these sparring sessions. For in every power dynamic, the top dog always needed to at least have the appearance of being the best, so that all the rest would believe he was capable of defending them and any would-be challengers to his lofty position.
She gave Jack a slow nod, a promise that there would be no locker-room bragging done on her part, but merely said, "What time tomorrow?"
"Eight sharp, Agent Carter."
Thinking she was dismissed, she turned to go, but when her hand reached the doorknob, Thompson called out, "Oh, and Carter? When you are done with the encryptions, take Sousa and the two of you interview Donald. He should be awake and cleared by the doctors by then to give his report on last night's debacle."
Stifling a groan at the thought of spending the afternoon interviewing a man bound to be disgruntled by injured pride when she'd rather be scouring the last known location of their fugitive, she replied dutifully, "Yes, sir."
Her spirits lifted not two steps out of Thompson's office though. Jack was again showing his faith in her by entrusting her to question a colleague, and he had given her the perfect partner to complete the mission. Not only was Daniel a friend and amenable to following her lead, but also with his war-time injury, he might be able to put Donald at ease and then they could take a quick detour to that warehouse.
With her heels stridently click-clacking against the floor, she determinedly marched to her desk. She was going to crack that that damn code by high noon or her name wasn't Agent Peggy Carter.
