Moments
A/N: Sorry for the delay. I could not access my account for a few days to update.
Undercovers: Day 2
It was just after 7am when there was a quiet knock at the door and an equally quiet call of "Room service" that could barely be heard over the strains of Billie Holiday.
Peggy set down the curling tongs with a disgusted look at the still and prone form of her partner sprawled across the bed and went to check to see who was at the door. After a quick glance through the peephole, it did indeed prove to be room service via Ramirez.
She made a swift scan of herself to make sure she was decent and somewhat presentable – blouse, slacks, stockinged feet, and partially curled hair, deemed herself good enough, and then let him in.
Ramirez took one look at her, one at Jack's sprawled form, and one at the sofa with folded sheets and blankets and a pillow stacked neatly at the end, before picking up the pitcher of ice water on the cart and mimed dumping it all over Jack.
She laughed softly and shook her head. Ramirez had taken quite the shine to her since she pulled him out of the Checkered Hall, and he was getting as bad as Daniel when it came to anyone disrespecting her in his eyes. So in order to preserve his friendship with Jack, she explained, "He tried to take the couch last night, but I told him that I'd rather share the bed between the two of us, as it is certainly big enough, than have him rendered incapacitated by a small cramped couch."
"That still doesn't explain why you ended up on the couch in the end," he pointed out.
It took her a few moments to reply as she was skimming through the autopsy reports on the Baers which had been stuffed between the folds of the morning paper, but eventually she mumbled, "Apparently, I snore."
Like a dog with a bone, Ramirez persisted, "He could have just asked you to – "
"Roll over? I did," grumbled Jack as he slowly sat up.
If anyone, namely Angie, were ever to ask (and thank God, Rose didn't), she could not lie – at that point, she paused in her reading of the report to admire the view. He painted a pretty swoon-worthy picture with his blond hair all in disarray, stubble-covered chin, morning gravelly voice, wide shoulders displayed to their best advantage by his sleeveless undershirt, and boyish petulant pout instead of his usual sophisticated cynical sneer. (Again, thank God Angie thought she was at a code-breaker conference, or else she would never live her gawking down).
"And…?"
"And I rolled over and held a gun to his head," she admitted with a sigh.
She half-expected to have to defend herself by asserting that she had been asleep and responding out of reflex. But upon seeing the gleeful look in Ramirez's eyes, she knew that this would not be necessary and that the image of Agent Carter sleeping with a gun under her pillow was not one that the office busybody could or would keep to himself.
("He didn't by the way," Rose oh-so-kindly informed her.
"Hence this particular gossiping hour?" she snarked in return.
"Hence this information exchange, yes," was her prim reply.)
In order to not be the sole focus of Ramirez's water-cooler gossip, she said to Jack with honeyed sweetness, "Mein Kuschelbär, I have news for you."
At his grunt, she blurted, "You're going to be a father."
("Ooh, you're a cruel woman, Agent Carter," Rose interjected with admiring glee, causing Peggy to make sure her description of Jack's reaction was as truthful as could be.)
Jack jerked his head up at her announcement, his eyes wide with horror, and his hands, which had been wearily rubbing the sleep from his face were paused mid-air. Much to hers and Ramirez's delight, he did not move for several moments after that.
Not even when the phone rang.
Seeing that he was rendered quite dumb, in all connotations of the word, from her announcement, she moved to answer the phone, signaling to Ramirez to turn down the radio.
"Baer," she greeted bluntly.
"My boss is willing to renegotiate terms and to provide you the identity of second target."
"Ja?"
"Meet me in the lobby in two hours."
~A~
"What are you thinking there, Marge?"
Jack's drawled question cut into her reverie. A good thing really, as she was taking far too long securing her derringer to its ankle holster.
"It's Minna, Kristof, as you well know," she corrected pertly, but answered his question anyways, as she straightened. "I was wondering if Fisher was going to be able to obtain that warrant in time for the bank lockbox."
"And to convey its significance to us before our meeting? Probably not. It's Judge Travers on call this weekend, I think, and he's probably on Hole 9 of his favorite Saturday golf course by now," he scoffed morosely as he fiddled with his tie in the mirror.
She nodded resignedly at this. It was true. Unless the seeker of the warrant could advocate that it would greatly inconvenience the judge not to sign the warrant – woe be to him who dared to disturb him.
And as they did not know who was potentially going to be kidnapped, they could not say if the youth's parents were capable of raining sufficient wrath on his head to qualify as 'inconvenient.'
And their argument that whatever is in the lockbox inside the bank that has lockbox keys exactly like the one that was dangling from Minna Baer's neck would help them identify who that target is would not suffice. She did not envy Fisher's challenge.
"So what are you thinking?" she asked, more out of polite habit than real interest.
"I'm imagining you being a mommy-to-be."
She paused in her re-packing of her clutch to stare at his reflection in the mirror, which was giving her an odd but admiring half-leer. To cover her consternation at his comment and expression, she quipped smartly, "Hmm…when did you become a maiesiophiliac, sweetheart?"
It took him a moment, but once he finished mentally translating from the little Latin he knew, Jack's dumbfounded expression was priceless, as he stuttered and whined, "Hey…w-what?...Hey, now! Don't be like that, Mar- Minna." And then he had to ruin it with, "I was just thinking how you would make a great mom."
She thought how she could retort that he could give up on those fantasies of getting her out of the office due to an extended maternity leave, as it had been ages since she had met anyone that could make that even a remote possibility. But as that was just a sad commentary on her social life, she decided to retaliate in kind. "Well, dear, I do not need to think – I know you would make a good father."
And she did. Judging by how he led his fellow agents in the office, he would be an excellent father to his children – as long as he liked them, mostly.
He must have read the sincerity in her eyes because he shut his flabbergasted mouth closed, not once but two or possibly three times, and thankfully changed the subject to:
"So, my dear, how does a classy lady such as yourself know about pregnant woman fetishes?"
~Office Roof~
"Agent? Agent Carter?"
Rose's voice broke her out of her reverie.
"Yes?"
"You kind of drifted off there for a minute," Rose observed concernedly.
"I did?" At the woman's nod, she cleared her throat and asked hesitantly, "Where did I leave off?"
"You didn't envy Fisher's challenge to get that warrant," she supplied helpfully, and then even more helpfully, she asked, "Tea, dear?"
She nodded gratefully, unsure which she was more thankful for – that the woman had a thermos full of tea or that hers and Jack's highly personal conversation had remained between them.
After she had taken a sip of the restorative beverage, Rose asked, "So did Fisher get the warrant?"
"Yes, but not in time."
"Not in time for what?"
"To know that it was a trap."
~Hotel Elevator~
"Lobby, please," Jack requested of the gentleman nearest the buttons, as she and he entered the lift.
As the burly man reached over to do so, his jacket slid back enough to reveal a gun holstered on his hip. It did not overly alarm her as there was extra security for the convention and other well-to-do patrons of the hotel – and it was America after all – but she still positioned herself so that she could defend herself in such close-quarters. Jack did the same picking up on her body language.
They were almost out of that tin can kill-box, when the lift stopped at floor 3 and opened up to reveal two men, one of Theodore Clifford's proportions and the other shorter and meaner build (and most likely disposition). More importantly, both had guns pointed at them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Baer, please, come with me," the leaner of the two coolly insisted.
Jack went to shove into the gentleman who had ridden the elevator with them so that he could close the doors, but Peggy pulled him back as she could now see that the man had pulled a second gun from the opposite hip and was now aiming that at the two of them.
"Yes, Mrs. Baer, keep that husband of yours on a tight leash," advised the apparent leader of this operation.
"For whom do we have the pleasure of addressing?" she asked, hoping it was not odd that she did not know the name of the voice on the other end of the phone.
"I am Adrien Valentin. I am the middle man commissioned by our…mutual employer to mediate this business," he supplied. His words sounded non-threatening enough but his eyes – his eyes spoke volumes.
By the tightness in his shoulders, she could tell that Jack had sensed it too, but he kept his head, (and therefore their heads), and attempted to regain some semblance of control of the situation by asserting, "Well, Mr. Valentino, let's mediate this business. Lead on."
Whoever the 'mutual employer' was did a good job in hiring this man for the job as he was one cool customer. Without even batting an eye at Jack's deliberate mispronunciation of his name, he turned to his associates and ordered, "Relieve our guests of their weapons and then bring them to the suite. If they give you any problems…" he paused to eye them up and down and then said ominously, "Shoot the missus."
~A~
"It was a real pleasure to receive the request from our boss to provide my rival with an educational experience," Valentin gloated as he circled them like a stalking predator, or perhaps like a cat that plays with its food.
She and Jack were sitting tied to back to back to two desk chairs in the middle of a hotel suite, while this man wasted time in intimidation tactics (which was fine by her as it gave Daniel and Ramirez more time to find them).
"It seemed rather apropos to have this tutorial done at collegiate convention. Wouldn't you say?"
"I was never a good student. Can we skip the lecture and dive right into the key points?" Jack sneered. She silently wondered if he was critiquing their captor on his interrogation techniques. If he was, she had no doubt he found the man as equally wanting as she did.
"Ah, bad student were you? I have a method that I have always found to do wonders for driving points home." With a dramatic signal to Evil Clifford, he continued his pontification, "It is called positive punishment by behavioralists, I believe. Anyways, the critical points are:
"One – there is no retirement plan in our business."
"Uggh." Jack groaned as Evil Clifford's meaty fist slammed into his gut.
She could feel the force of the hit reverberate up her own spine, and she couldn't quite hide her cringe. A fact which Valentin gleefully took note of as he continued, "And two, never threaten to blackmail your employer to provide you one."
Over his own grunts of pain, Jack goaded with yet another sneer, "Sh-shouldn't there b-be a third point?"
"Pardon?" Valentin asked, as if he could not believe someone would dare mock him in their positions.
"There's always three points in every lecture or argument. Oomph!" Evil Clifford hit Jack again, unprompted and in punishment for his smart-arse cheek.
"Your husband is quite insolent, not a trait that I would want in a partner, especially in situations like these," Valentin pointed out to her with no real concern, as evidenced by his indifferent shrug and mutter of "No matter," before focusing on Jack. "No, there is no third point. Just a pop quiz." He circled around again to square off with Jack, as he asked, "Where are the files?"
Now they were getting somewhere. Minna and Kristof Baer, soon-to-be parents, had been trying to exit the game, and had been hoping to do so with financial security by threatening whoever contracted them out with incriminating information. Judge Travers had better sign that warrant.
"What files?"
Valentin circled back to face her, while Evil Clifford hit Jack yet again, and asked icily, "Where are they, Mrs. Baer?"
Silently praying for Jack's forgiveness for the abuse he was about to receive, she attempted to stall again, "Why do you think we have them?"
"Because Howard Stark's man was sniffing around your room for them," Valentin replied exasperatedly, and then his eyes narrowed with suspicion as he inquired accusingly, "Is that who you were going to sell them to?"
"Possibly," she replied with as much of a shrug as her bound arms would allow. "There are a few other buyers. How much is it worth to you?"
Her cool façade seemed to greatly offend him, for his nostrils flared and his eyes bulged as he practically spat, "Better question. How much is it worth to our employer? Answer: as much as I charge for my educational services."
~Office Roof~
"At this point, Valentin proceeded to demonstrate his skill at 'object lessons'. And in order to buy Daniel and Ramirez time to find us, I let them make Jack, er, Agent Thompson, a canvas of black and blue."
"Was it bad?" Rose inquired upon seeing her face as she recalled the events that followed.
"It was bad," she admitted. After taking a bracing sip of tea and a few moments to admire the city skyline, she continued, "And the worst part of it was that during all of that, all I could think about was how I wished we had a safe word for such circumstances, and then how much he would tease me if we survived this and I ever brought it up."
Peggy daren't look at Rose as she made that last confession. For one, to be thinking of something so silly and inane as all that while someone's life was on the line was just so…so unprofessional. And for another, to even hint at something so deviant to a woman as respectable as Rose was just embarrassing.
Rose must have noticed her discomfort, (she certainly couldn't have missed her flushed face), as she only kindly asked, "But you have a safe word now?"
"Oh yes," she replied. It was 'pillock', which she had convinced him meant 'peacock' in Czechoslovakian.
"Did this Valentine ever hit you?"
"Oh no," she shook her head. "In fact, he kind of prided himself on that."
~Valentin's Hotel Suite~
"As you can see and no doubt hear, I am quite good at what I do. I could demonstrate it to you personally, if you need further convincing," Valentin ominously threatened.
From the abused peanut gallery, there was a token groaned protest of "Do-o-on't. N-not h-her."
"I would prefer not to, especially to a lady, but you still have not told me what I want to know."
Having finally figured out what the Baer couple had done from Valentin's comments, Peggy played her role to the fullest. With all the mercenary hardness and wifely desperation she could emote (the latter really wasn't that hard as she did not know how much more he could take), she bargained, "The whole point of all this was so that there would be no trouble. If you let him go, I'll tell you where the files are."
"Are you crazy?! I'b not leabing you behibd!" Jack blurted through his now profusely bleeding nose.
"It seems you two have some discussing to do," observed Valentin with dry amusement. "Why don't I give you a moment to reach a consensus?"
As soon as he and his goons had left them alone, Jack declared, "I hab a work in progress kind of plan."
"Yes?" she prompted, not greatly encouraged by his descriptors or his pronunciation.
"Dibide and conquer."
"You mean I lead them to wherever we have these files – which we do not have – and leave you, hands bound and your body a bloody mess, to defend yourself against the inevitable bullet they will put through your head once I am out of earshot?"
"Well, I did say it was a WIP plan." At her grunt of frustration, he became a little more testy, "Look, I know I'b not super-soldier material eben on my best of days, but eben I can stall theesh goons long enough for you to lure 'em to our room where I'b sure Daniel and Rabirez will be waiting. And then you can send in the cabalry or lead the charge yourself, if you prefer."
"Of course, that's what I prefer, you pillock."
~Office Roof~
"And that's what we did."
She and Jack played the desperate doomed couple. Each begging for the life of the other.
"I lured Valentin to our room, distracting him and providing him with a false sense of security by informing him of Minna's pregnancy, so when he opened the door to our room and saw Ramirez's prone body, he forgot that the burly elevator chap he had sent on ahead had not given him the 'all clear'. And before he could do so, Daniel whacked the gun out of his hand with his cane, which he then followed up with a knock-out punch to the temple. It would have made the real Clifford quite proud."
"Did you storm the gates to save your damsel-in-distress?"
"Oh yes, I captured myself the trolls and dragon who were guarding his tower too," she admitted with a smirk, thoroughly enjoying the image they were painting.
With the information in the lockbox at the bank and what Valentin and his 'trolls' had divulged, they were able to send in the Howling Commandos to the lair near Lithuania where all the kidnapped youth were being held. They were now being debriefed and treated at the D.C. office. Most of their true damsels-in-distress had already been reunited with their families.
And while the main cause for her smile of satisfaction had to do with the success of their mission, a small part of it had to do with how she and the cavalry had found Jack.
~Valentin's Hotel Suite~
"Er!"
Thwack!
"Uggh!"
Thump!
"Grr!"
Whump! Whump!
"Ooh-oomph!"
All of these were the sounds that were radiating down the hallway and through the door as she raced to Jack's rescue. A rescue, which he in fact did not need.
As soon as she opened the door with pistol raised, she was met with the sight of Jack still strapped to the chair and kicking repeatedly at the prone form of Evil Clifford.
"And take that, you Rodent of Un-proportional Size! How do you like that 'positibe punishment', huh?" Whack! "And when your boss gets back, I'll psycho-babble his ass too!"
Although she was secretly thrilled at the sight of Jack's subjugation of his tormentor, she knew that she needed to intervene before he could do irreparable damage to a possible source of valued information. So she forced her inner ever-responsible Peggy Carter to the forefront and gently called, "Jack? Jack, that's enough."
When that did not work, she tried her most irritatingly and overly sweet, "Mein Kuschelbär!"
That got his attention. Jack looked up from his victim to glower at her through his one only partially swollen eye and rasped, "Liebling, thank God we Baers are Protestant."
From out of the corner of her eye she could see Daniel and Ramirez shoot each other concerned glances. She could just hear them thinking that Jack had finally snapped and now he was over-identifying with his cover.
"And why is that?" she inquired, knowing even as she did so that she was going to regret asking.
"Because, sweetheart, Catholics don't beliebe in divorce."
~Office Roof~
"Hey, Carter? Food for thought: you and Agent Thompson make a great team," was Rose's final comment before she disappeared back into the building.
And Peggy, as she sat and stared out over the city that she had come to both love and hate, could not help but think that Rose might be on to something.
After all, didn't great and ambitious minds think alike?
She didn't know what that quite said about her, but she was slowly coming to accept it. The two of them, together, as equals, did just get the job done and they got it done spectacularly well.
What more could an Agent ask for?
A/N: pillock = 'stupid person' in British slang, originally it meant 'penis' in Scandinavian.
Out of curiosity...got a favorite line or scene?
