Moments
A/N: some lines are original to the series and not my own
And I am totally appreciative of the opening they gave me to reference "Coffee" : )
Fiction Can Be Rewritten
2.9-10a
Dear God, he reserved the right to say 'I told you so' later.
Without him, Peggy and Daniel would be up shit creek and without a paddle.
First, Jeeves loses his marbles and goes berserker on what was likely a suicide mission if Peggy hadn't chased after him.
And then this so-called scientist goes to pieces mid-mission. Who the eff was this guy? To not know that you are to do what Peggy says in a crisis? Come on. This is why you don't take lab-rats out into the field.
Lastly, if it weren't for him and his masterful conning of Vernon and his goons, Daniel and Samberly would be either drinking their urine or getting their guts pecked out by vultures.
But most importantly, Peggy would have been turned over to Frost as a bargaining chip as soon as she strode in and pummeled Vernon's ass.
Seeing Marge beat up the old man on his behalf (and yes, Sousa's too) had warmed the cockles of his heart, but as he watched her eye the bastard with suspicion, his stomach began to churn with anxiety.
"What I'm speaking about is this man. I don't know about you, but I'm not in the habit of climbing into bed with snakes."
No, she was in the habit of poking them with a stick. But this was neither the time nor the place to tackle that particular battle. He needed Vernon to want to keep the status quo of mutual blackmail on the table, so he quipped:
"I couldn't care less who you're climbing into bed with."
She didn't rise to the bait, which was a pity as it was good material, but continued to poke, poke, poke.
"Let's say this works. We fix this device and then Vernon stops Whitney Frost with it. Then what? How do you think his priorities will change? He'll be after us the very next second."
Vernon's self-defense was Oscar-worthy, so convincing even that with only an earnest nudge from Sousa, Peggy agreed to back off.
Jack knew that this was only a temporary truce. The man meant every word, but he also knew that Vernon would just wait until they all relaxed their guard before arranging some kind of 'accident'. He was the kind of sneaky bastard who tended to strike preemptively like that.
Jack also knew that Peggy would circle back to the 'snake', ensuring that she would be the first on Vernon's list.
All of this meant that one thing – he had to make a deal with the devil.
Even if it meant that he would have to risk his life by coming within black-goo-shit distance of the volatile Whitney Frost.
~A~
"Be careful." Peggy cautioned. "Zero matter doesn't tend to listen to silver tongues."
Ha, if she only knew.
"I must say, I almost didn't believe Chief Thompson. I really thought you were smarter than this, Vernon."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm sorry, Vernon. Change of plans," he insincerely apologized as he held a gun on his one-time mentor.
He wasn't sorry or remorseful at all, nor did he suffer any moral quandary pangs about being an accomplice in this man's demise.
In fact, in a sick twisted way, he derived satisfaction from seeing the look of betrayal on the manipulative bastard's face.
The man had sent his Chief and friend to the hospital, had suspended the straightest arrow in the SSR since Captain America, and had threatened to torpedo his partner's career and her life – all to save his own neck. And even if it hadn't been at Whitney Frost's orders, he still would have done it on the Council's.
No, to save them all, to save Peggy, he would let Frost have her wicked way with him and sleep soundly tonight.
~A~
'The road to hell is paved with good intentions', that is what his Gam-Gam always says.
Thank God, this shitstorm was going to be classified up the wazoo. Or else, she would be able to reserve the right to say 'I told you so', which was not something she really ever needed to do.
Here he was threatening to set off a bomb, while Peggy Carter, his once-upon-a-time partner was holding a gun on him, threatening to shoot him, all the while yammering about 'innocents' and 'justice.'
Innocent? Wilkes? Not in his book. Aside from being a vessel for otherworldly evil, the man had held a gun on her. (The hypocrisy of that did not escape him, but then again, he never claimed to be an innocent.)
Some of what she was saying was getting through to him though, as was that utter look of betrayal, the one that promised him that if he did this, she would never forgive him.
But he was so amped up on fear, that it didn't matter.
He knew it was fear. He had been scared when Vernon had ordered him to dig up dirt on Peggy, when he saw the power and reach of the Council, when he saw the film on what Zero Matter can do, and now even more so when he saw the crazed darkness in the once shining Hollywood star.
Daniel was right. Peggy couldn't be dispassionate about Wilkes, and Jack could admit that right now he was in no way capable of being dispassionate about her or the entire situation – despite what a cold-hearted bastard he might seem.
However, perhaps his inability to be 'dispassionate' would save the world.
Boom!
Shit. Shit. Shit. So much for that.
~A~
It had been a nightmare.
Piles of rubble, bodies buried underneath, and black space goo creeping, crawling, rippling towards…her.
The she-witch had sucked up the space goo like a sponge, a hoovering sponge. And then she had begun to haltingly stalk after them like a marionette with broken strings.
For the rest of his days, he would remember that and her shrill voice echoing in his head promising to find them.
He had been ever so grateful for the timely arrival of the British chauffeur and smug bastard millionaire. He couldn't have stomached it if she had finished her threats with a cackling 'my pretties'.
But no bullet, no bomb, no Bentley (or Stark-equivalent) was going to put down that bitch for good.
So what the hell would?
Thankfully, that was not his problem.
He would leave that in the ever capable hands of Carter and her pack of lab-rats.
Meanwhile, he and Jorgensen had the onerous task of cleaning house.
While he felt terrifyingly helpless when it came to Whitney Frost and her world-devouring space goo, when it came to beating confessions out of people (or in Vega's case only looking at him funny), that was right up his alley.
And so were, apparently, dinner orders.
"Okay, look, I'm not a scientist, but I'm here to help."
"How about ... collecting the dinner orders?"
He knew when she asked that of him, barely concealing her challenging smirk, that he was indeed still on her shit-list.
"You know what, Marge? I'm gonna do that for you."
He also knew that his ready acceptance was his way of groveling.
He could only hope that her slightly amused smile had meant that she was on her way to forgiving him, someday.
Thank God for the intervention of Wilkes' less-than-spontaneous combustion.
