Moments
A/N: The following is inspired by and adapted from NCIS season 3's episode "Undercovers", which is one of my favorites and which I feel is perfect for some Cartson interaction : )
I in no way own or profit from NCIS. Bellisarius and McGill and the peeps from CBS get all the glory and monies.
Also, btw, Jarvis and a few others special guest star ; )
Anywho, enjoy!
Undercovers: Day 1
"So, what do you think, sweetheart? Does it pass muster?"
Peggy gave their hotel suite a cursory glance as she shrugged out of her fur-lined coat, finally stating, "It will do, I suppose."
"'It will do'?" Jack scoffed. "This is the swankiest digs we've had yet. It even has one of them new-fangled televisions."
"Darling, I am not at all interested in the latest new-fangled whats-its."
Her sultry tone of voice on the word 'interested' caught his attention. He looked up from the magic box to see her paused in the bathroom doorway giving him a very heated look.
He gulped. "Uh, er, wh-what are you interested in, cupcake?"
"A shower."
At her come-hither look, he gulped again and then hastily obeyed.
~Three Days Later~
"Oh my stars! You did not - ?! Miss Carter!"
So exclaimed Rose as her chicken salad dripped from her Wonderbread slices in a less than appetizing fashion.
"I did indeed," Peggy asserted unabashedly, a small part of her was slightly entertained at the horror/envy that her risqué tale had provoked in her audience.
When Peggy had walked into work this morning, Rose had slipped her piece of paper along with the home-baked chocolate brownie she had offered. On the paper had been the simple message: Meet me on the roof for lunch. 1300
Intrigued, Peggy had gone, thankful that she had brought her lunch and did not need to run to the Automat as had become her custom. Although, if she had known that she would be facing a matriarchal inquisition, she might have begged off.
As soon as she had sat down next to the woman, Rose had cut straight to the point, if somewhat enigmatically, "Spill."
"Spill what?"
The queen of the switchboard operators was having none of it however. "Spill about this weekend, Carter," and before Peggy could protest about mission security, Rose added warningly, "If you don't, no one will know your side of the story, just whatever version Ramirez spreads about you two, and you know Agent Thompson will go with whatever is more flattering to himself."
Well, crap. The woman had a fair point.
And while silently cursing the office busybody and her own pride, she began her tale of daring-do and intrigue.
"Well, it all started when the bodies of Kristof and Minna Baer had been found entangled in a car wreck early that morning. Amongst their belongings there had been a reservation for the Peninsula, where there is currently a convention of ivy-league college students majoring in the various sciences."
"And it was decided that you and Agent Thompson were to take their places," Rose observed knowingly.
"Yes, we looked the most like the pair," she acknowledged. Luckily blue-eyed blond-haired Kristof was not into equally Aryan-looking women.
"And who is this pair?"
Peggy hesitated a moment wondering how much she could reveal, and then decided to keep it simple, "A German guns-for-hire couple."
The longer version was that the SSR, Interpol, and FBI all suspected that they had killed at least 27 people between them and their most recent jobs had them involved in the kidnapping of youth who have proven to be scientifically-gifted. Hers and Jack's mission was to pretend to be them in order to suss out who the target was and who hired the couple. If they were really lucky, they would not only prevent another kidnapping, but they would also be able to get a lead on what had happened to the others and why they were wanted.
Rose being a professional did not ask any further questions – well, mission-related that is.
"So did you wait until he was down to his skivvies before you told him it was all a charade to keep from being possibly eavesdropped on and not a case of amorous water conservation?"
"Rose!" she protested, a faint blush coming to her cheeks. 'This is what Angie is going to be like in when she's older.' She couldn't help thinking before adding, "No, I didn't have to. Agent Thompson knew what I was about." Sort of.
~Back in Hotel Suite~
Once the radio was on and the room was steamed up, Jack whispered, "Do you think this mysterious 'they' of yours bought it?"
She paused in her search of the room to shoot him a scornful look, "After that so very suave performance?"
"Give a guy a heads up next time, Carter. I didn't know we were going to be playing one of those couples. These two have been married for like 5 years now. I figured they were at the 'I'll-kick-you-if-you-snore' stage," he retorted defensively.
"They might not be, but I warn you now – we most certainly are," she informed him darkly. Oh, why couldn't the Baers be Catholic? She was not looking forward to sharing the same bed as Jack-I-am-God's-gift-to-women-Thompson.
Before Jack could reply, she concluded her search with, "No cameras or bugs in here that I can see, but there's no way I can be sure."
"How do you even know we are under surveillance?"
"I don't," she admitted, and then with a shrug, "Daniel's got a hunch. I've got a gut feeling. And one can't be too careful while undercover. Speaking of which… we actually need to get in the shower."
At Jack's raised eyebrows, she rolled her eyes, explaining "For the purposes of keeping the charade as real as possible, we need to look as if we actually took one."
"Oh, if we are going for being realistic, then…" he paused to give her leer. "Then, Carter, I – and I am sure Mr. Baer does too – make my women scream."
"In frustration?" she retorted as she eyed his – pants area – dubiously.
His answering scowl had made all the effort she had put into not blushing exponentially worth it.
~A~
She was ensconced in a robe and towel-drying her hair at the vanity, while Jack was doing whatever he does to 'perfect' his hairstyle, when there was a knock at the door.
When a clipped British voice called out 'Room service!', she glanced into the bathroom inquiringly. Jack was shaking his head that he had not called for them while she was in the shower after he had finished his turn and his alleged 'husbandly duty.' ("And yes, Rose, we did shower separately, no amorous water conservation or otherwise.")
By the time there was a second knock, Jack had his gun in his hand and was perfectly positioned low in the bathroom doorway and she had her own pistol tucked within the robe's folds as she looked through the peephole.
Upon seeing who it was, she let out a silent curse even as she opened the door and warned her partner with, "It's that friendly chap, mein Kuschelbär."
That 'friendly chap', of course, happened to be the one and only Mr. Jarvis. They were very fortunate that she had cranked up the radio as she had gone to the door; otherwise, Jack's explosion of "What the fuck are you doing here?" would have certainly blown their cover.
At his accusatory glare, she declared defensively, "Don't look at me. I haven't seen or heard from him in a while." If 'a while' was last Saturday, when he and Anna had ostensibly come over to make sure the residence wasn't in disrepair while in the care of two domestically-challenged city girls and in reality to exchange the latest gossip. It certainly wasn't in time for him to crash their mission like this though.
"Pardon for the intrusion, Miss – "
"Mrs. Baer," she cut him off, not knowing how well the strains of Mozart were covering their conversation. With eyes narrowed, she asked, "And what are you doing here? We did not call for room service."
Her friend gave her a puzzled frown before he realized she was keeping in character as much as possible. In hushed tones, he replied, "Oh well, I and Mr. - er, Howard saw you in the lobby, and he – "
"He's here too?" hissed Jack in exasperation, causing Peggy to want to roll her eyes. For, really, where one is, generally there is the other, even when one of them is wanted for treason.
"Well, um, yes, of course. Mr. St- Howard is here for the convention. He is always looking for inspiration or young minds to recruit for his company," Jarvis explained, looking somewhat surprised that he even had to. This, of course, did not settle Jack's ruffled feathers any.
In order to hasten this tête-à-tête along and keep the peace, she inquired, "What did he send you here for?"
"Oh, yes, this," he replied as he pulled out a little black box with two antenna. "If you turn off the radio, I can detect any pests that may have infested your suite."
At this, Jack arched an inquiring eyebrow at her, as if he was leaving the call up to her. She shrugged and went over to turn off the radio.
Jarvis moved as close to the center of the room and scanned it, slowly turning in a circle. When he was done, he signaled for her to turn the radio back on.
Before she did so, Jack complained loudly, "Liebling, why did you turn that off?"
"I hate that song. That's why. Don't you know that by now?" she whined.
"Well, it should be over by now. Turn it back on, woman."
Jarvis paused in his scrutiny of the device to glance between them speculatively. Before he could say whatever it was that he was thinking, she asked, "So do we have an infestation problem?"
"Yes, in the bedside lampshade, over by the phone, and in the flower arrangement on the vanity."
"Any in the bathroom?"
He swiveled to double-check, and then shook his head. "None, and I can also jam them if you would like."
"No, thank you," she replied gently but firmly. "We don't want to tip them off that we are onto them."
"Whoever 'them' is," muttered Jack as he scowled at the phone.
As if his glare had called it to life, it began to ring.
As she was the closest to the phone, she picked it up, "Hello?"
"You have dinner reservations in the dining room in an hour. Be there," said a stern, raspy Western European male voice before promptly hanging up.
"Who was that, sweetheart?"
"The maître d'. It looks like our dinner reservations got moved up an hour, mein Süßer," she replied with faux excitement.
"In that case, we won't be needing your services any longer," Jack replied with more excitement than necessary, as he began herding Jarvis out.
Over his shoulder, her friend mouthed 'Good luck.'
She mouthed back 'Thank you' before diving for the bathroom. If she had only an hour to get ready, she couldn't have Jack hogging the bathroom any longer.
~Office Roof~
"So what did you wear?"
Peggy arched an eyebrow, as if to say 'is that really necessary to this tale?'
"Yes, it is." Rose insisted, and then added knowingly, "Do you want to hear Ramirez's description?"
Having overheard Ramirez's rather crass descriptions of feminine attire in the past, she defended her honor with, "It was a cocktail dress, sheer black and embroidered and had caramel satin lining."
Rose snorted lightly, "Sounds delicious."
"Yes, well, Jack did drool a little," she admitted with a smug smirk.
"Of course he did, darling, and then?"
Sighing with resignation, as she knew the woman would never forgive her if she did not include the next bit, she continued, "And then, after the waiter had seated us, Thompson declared and I quote: 'Sweetheart, I got to admit a part of me is reveling in the fact that I have a sweet dish like you on my arm, earning covetous looks from all the men, but another part wants to beat all of those very same men blind. The only thing keeping me from the latter is knowing that if any one of them tried anything inappropriate my Marge could put them in the ground'."
For once, her lunch companion and high inquisitor was speechless, so Peggy returned to her description of the evening.
~Hotel Dining Room~
They were seated at a table, which gave them an excellent vantage point of all the patrons in the dining room but had their backs to the kitchen. This made them both uncomfortable as they could not see who was coming and going behind them, but especially Jack. Having known many a soldier who was extra twitchy by this, she leaned over and whispered, "We'll just have to trust that Ramirez will have our backs."
He nodded and relaxed. Ramirez was masquerading as a server tonight, being their eyes and ears among the wait staff, while Daniel monitored the phone lines and coordinated with security.
Picking up their menus, they both scanned the room, trying to spot any familiar face, and after a moment, Jack asked, "Do you recognize anyone here?"
"No," she murmured her reply, "But I'll have Ramirez take pictures as he works his way around the room. Maybe Palmer can cross-reference them against that logbook he has been compiling of Leviathan associates."
While his expression was bland, Jack's voice contained a mild note of incredulity, as he asked, "How the hell is Ramirez going to do that?"
Without replying she set down her menu and set it aside, knocking off her small clutch and sending its contents scattered across the floor.
And who was it that immediately swooped in to pick it up?
That's right. Good ol' Ramirez. And he swiftly put everything back into her purse and handed it to her. Everything, that is, except for a few minor items, including a slender pen, which he attached to his little order pad before returning to his 'duties.'
("Ooh, the clutzy damsel-in-distress move. Good one, Carter."
"Thanks, Rose.")
When all curious glances from fellow diners ceased to fixate on them, he asked, "Camera pen?"
"Camera pen."
"Swift thinking."
"Not really," she disagreed with a slight shake of her head. "If I had, I would have asked that friendly chap who his employer is interested in."
At his puzzled frown, she explained, "Not that every conspiracy revolves around him, but it does seem that whatever he deems of scientific value, they do too."
"I see your point," he acknowledged, but then because he could not seem to help himself, he added dryly, "I admit that the man is not the villain of our little drama, but don't you find it curious that what fascinates the villainous characters also fascinates him?"
She shrugged, "Ambitious minds, as well as great, think alike, I suppose."
She was saved from an obnoxious response to this by their thin mustachioed server returning to take their order. He ordered the beef, and she, the fish. When with a suggestive wag to his eyebrows, Jack tried to order oysters as well, she quickly piped up with a wifely reminder that it 'gave him gas' and that he 'best not'. He agreed with another one of his patented smirks that she so hated, causing her to roll her eyes. Their waiter was unimpressed with their witty domestic banter.
She thought the dinner would have been filled with awkward pauses, but Jack decided to be his charming Dr. Jekyll self and began the game of creating stories about their fellow patrons while they waited for the Baers' employer to make contact.
He was in the middle of an elaborate tale of how the matronly grey-haired woman who sent back every dish brought to her at least once was having a clandestine affair with the hotel chef and that this was her method of covert flirting underneath her portly husband's nose, much to Carter's reluctant amusement, when their server interrupted him with an apologetic, "You have a phone call, sir."
They followed the man's gaze to see another one of his ilk holding the receiver of the phone at the hostess desk. He acknowledged them both with a single nod and sighed with great reluctance, "Sorry, sweetheart, but duty calls."
She waved him away with the look of a bored and resigned wife used to such interruptions, and asked the waiter for the dessert menu.
Per Daniel's transcription of the phone call that he was able to eavesdrop on, it went like this:
Jack (annoyed): "About time you made contact. We were getting bored."
Male Unsub: "I thought you might like to know that we have doubled our order."
Jack: "Doubled, huh? That is going to cost you."
Male Unsub: "But, of course. Twice as much as the agreed upon price. We are nothing if not fair."
Jack: "Well, in the spirit of fairness, my friend, we will need to be compensated not just for the extra package but for the exponential amount of trouble a second one causes to acquire, secure, and transport discreetly. And of course, there is the matter of how valuable the second package is worth to consider…Who is the second acquisition?"
Male Unsub: "The individual is in the restaurant with you. You don't see him?" (pause) "Take your time. Enjoy dessert. I will need to discuss your compounded rates with my boss."
Jack: "You do tha-" (End call).
By this time, Peggy had developed an urgent 'need' for the powder room, and on her way there she just happened to need to pass the hostess desk. From beneath her lowered lashes as she weaved between the tables, she could see Jack scowling at the phone as he set it in the cradle, and as she saw his fingers tapping it, she knew he was trying to recall how long it should take Daniel to do a trace.
Not long because it rang again. Jack picked it up, listened for a moment, and then without even bothering to return the phone to its cradle, he just dropped it and ran, startling the picky eater matron as he rushed past her and her husband who were leaving through the same exit.
Peggy abandoned her pretense of heading to the powder room and went to the phone, saying the first inconspicuous thing that came to mind that would let Daniel know it was her: "Guten Abend, is this Susan?"
There was a brief pause at the other end of the line and then Daniel said, "The call came from the lobby, phone booth four. I radioed Ramirez. He's on his way too."
"Danke."
She gently set the phone in the cradle, generously tipped the hostess, and requested that the dinner be charged to their room, before trailing after her 'errant husband.'
She hastily scanned the richly furnished lobby for the line of booths, and quickly spotted both Jack and Ramirez walking away from them (in opposite directions), looking quite glum.
Jack saw her and veered towards her. As soon as he was at her side, she asked, "Empty?"
Jack snorted derisively, "What was your first clue?"
"Ramirez's I-just-bit-into-a-lemon expression?"
This time Jack's snort was one of amusement. Chortling, he explained, "If Nana Maria had heard the curses he let loose when we found the booth empty, she would have washed his mouth out with the nastiest tasting soap she could find."
After a moment, he added thoughtfully, "We at least got his fingerprints though. Ramirez had a kit with him. I never knew he was such a boy scout."
It was her turn to snort in derisive amusement.
She half-expected him to give a scoffing "What?" in response, but he merely sighed in heavy resignation and asked, "You?"
"Me. My powder and powder brush to be exact."
At her admission, he frowned, brows furrowing in concentration as he asked, "When?"
"Camera pen."
She watched with no small amount of amusement as comprehension dawned and his frown disappeared, turning into both an abashed and appreciative grin, as he remarked, "Smooth, Car – Minna."
"Not as smooth as you, mein Kuschelbär."
The tips of his ears went a delightful shade of pink in either embarrassment at his near slip up or her pet name for him, as he muttered, "Are you ever going to stop calling me that?"
Recalling all the various unwanted nicknames he had given her since their acquaintance, she unrepentantly replied with a simple but resounding:
"Not a chance, sweetheart."
~Office Roof~
"And so that concludes day one," Peggy announced as she began to tidily pack up her lunch.
"Day one? How many days were there, Agent Carter?"
"Just the two," she answered matter-of-factly, resisting the urge to sigh or mutter 'just two too many', as she did not want to be seen as 'protesting too much'.
When the woman seemed to be in no hurry to return to her station, she inquired curiously, "Did they increase your lunch break to a full hour?"
"Oh no, we do not have the same privileges as you agents yet. Helen owes me for all the extended smoke breaks she takes," Rose replied blithely.
This attitude of nonchalance quickly changed and morphed into one of avid curiosity as she leaned forward and confessed in a conspiratorial whisper, "I just got to know. Did you and Agent Thompson sleep… together?"
A/N:
German to English translations:
danke = thank you
Guten Abend = good evening
Süßer = sweetie
Liebling = darling
Mein Kuschelbär = my cuddly bear
